#I have been so tired all week Im literally losing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuuyasheaven · 4 months

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RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #chuuya angst

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 5 months

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we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor. You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

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froggibus · 1 year

Note

Hello how are you? Idk if this has been written before cause I can't find something like it but I request a simple valorant x reader where they used to have a crush on her in like highschool or whatever hehe

(maybe yoru, phoenix , jett.. if you can then gekko!!)

Reunion - Yoru, Phoenix, Jett & Gekko

Genre: fluff! :)

CW: yoru being yoru, maybe a little ooc? mostly wholesome stuff

syd? doing a request? a miracle. technically reqs are closed rn but im still gonna work through a few of them

————

YORU

probably had a huge crush on you but would never admit it

the kind of guy that would tease you/be lowkey mean to you just cause he likes you

tsundere ass mf

after you guys graduate, he doesn’t see much of you after that

and even if he does have lots of one night stands, this man struggles with emotional intimacy

whenever he gets lonely he probably entertains the idea of cute lil y/n and what could have been if he wasn’t so shy

when you join the protocol, it’s like he’s seen a ghost

goes right back to that tsundere teenager and probably ignores you

all the other agents warm to you right away tho so you’re naturally annoyed why this guy can’t let go of *whatever* you did to him in high school

on a mission with just the two of you, you finally confront him about his indifference towards you

things boil over and one thing leads to another and

he kisses you

you’re literally so shocked you don’t even close your eyes

he pulls away, cheeks BURNING and refuses to look at you

“why do you have to make everything so difficult for me y/n?”

????

FINALLY admits he likes you after all this time

PHOENIX

he was flirty with everyone in high school, so you never caught on when he flirted with you

but this man was DOWN BAD

he probably asked you out at least once but you thought it was a joke/more flattery and brushed him off

rip phoenix

he tries to connect with you after graduation but life gets in the way, and then he joins the protocol

whenever his relationships don’t work out or he’s on his last leg on a mission, he finds your face flashing through his mind

when he gets back from a bad mission and still sees your face, he thinks he’s losing it

“phoenix? you okay?”

bro is not okay

spends the next three weeks doing stupid stunts to try and impress you

only succeeds in setting multiple objects on fire, spraining his wrist and getting a lot of lectures from Brim

you end up bringing him hot chocolate & rum to lift his spirits after he’s essentially put in a time out

“so, are you gonna tell me why you had a sudden bout of pyromania?”

sighs and finally admits he has a crush on you and has for a long time

you kiss him to let him know you feel the same way

and then the two of you spend the rest of the night getting drunk and laughing about how stupid you guys were in high school

JETT

she liked you a lot in high school and didn’t know how to express it

probably tried asking you out more than once and failed miserably

just stumbled over her words all cutely and then says “never mind” and runs away

you thought it was cute and never really thought too much of it

after high school, you think about her a lot and start to realize she probably liked you

and poor jett is so swamped with missions she barely has time to settle down

and even if she does, she can’t find someone to keep up with her

she’s ecstatic when she sees you joined the protocol

a second chance!!

you get a little flustered around her now that you know about her high school crush and you somewhat hope she still feels the same way

she’s surprisingly matured and isn’t nearly as flustered around you as she used to be

tries her best to make you feel included too

it’s not long before her old feelings come bubbling to the surface tho

she’s probably the most emotionally mature of the group so she just straight up confesses to you

both of you are tired from a mission and share a half kiss/half hug where you’re just leaning against each other

GEKKO

he was definitely popular in high school but it never went to his head, he just did his thing and hung out at the skatepark

bit of a rebel

he mostly just admired you from afar, and if you were ever together for group projects, flirted with you lowkey

never anything serious or enough to make you actually realize how he feels

but enough to keep him infatuated

when Brim announces that you guys have a new agent joining the protocol, you do not expect it to be Mateo

both of you are shocked (it’s like the Spider-Man meme irl)

you do your best to make him feel welcome, taking him around and introducing him to everyone

you decide one night to take him out for drinks with some of the other agents!!

everyone starts to leave until it’s just you and Gekko

you’re both a little tipsy and start talking about high school

he admits he had a crush on you in high school and that he’s super happy you guys get to see each other again

kisses you & asks you if you want to go out again

#Valorant #valorant x you #valorant x reader #valorant hcs #jett hcs #valorant jett #gekko hcs #gekko valorant #yoru hcs #yoru valorant #phoenix hcs #phoenix valorant #x You #x reader #yoru x reader #jett x reader #phoenix x reader #gekko x reader

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tachimichishrine · 6 months

Text

"broken and fixed again"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

dazai osamu x fem! reader {hospital AU}

warnings: nsfw ; literally 1 fingering scene the rest is fluff ; mentions of suicide; not an actual au just a scenario ; fluff but it's just complaining abt your joints ; reader teases the living sh out of him bc flustered and soft dazai needs to be more mainstream ; makes him wear a nurse outfit with the power of words ; slight tw blood and pain i love seeing the silly in agony ; intended lowercase ; cursing ; so so so self indulgent i just got my second surgery in the span of 5 months dw im fine just dramatic as hell and my hospital neighbors are all gilfs

"haaaaaaah..."

dazai wasn't on any pain medications, so there was no way he was imagining that sound.

"haaaaaaaaaaahhhh..."

the day after being shot by fyodor, he wound up in the hospital due to his inability to be cured by yosano. it wasn't a big deal; he'd dealt with worse before, obviously. you don't spend as much time in the port mafia as he does and come out fully unscathed, after all.

"haaaa-"

then a slumping noise as if a body collapsed onto the ground. he was still on bed arrest, but he was growing restless being locked in the room all day with himself. the nurse who was tending to him seemed to be rather cold, but he knew that she'd turn to puddy for him shortly if he actually tried.

he groaned a little bit while getting up, fingertips grazing the paper thin clothing they were given at the spot where the bullet had pierced him. softly footsteps fell on the squeaky clean floor, and his head peaked outside his doorframe to look around for the source of the sound.

you were on the ground with a walker collapsed next to you.

pleasantly intrigued, he shot a quick glance at your facial expressions to check whether or not you were truly in agony, which you weren't. in fact, you seemed just as bored as he did. your arms spread out your sides like wings and your legs were tussled awkwardly as he guessed you were trying to keep the cheap clothing from revealing your butt-naked figure.

"oiii, psst psst," he called out, hand flattened next to his mouth as if he were whispering to you intimately in the empty hallway.

you tilted your head backwards, looking at him upside-down with what was an inarguably listless expression.

"heyyyyy," you seemed to be almost slurring your words, and he guessed you were hooked on enough meds to make a small fortune if sold on the streets. "wh-whooo... who are youuuu?"

a few steps forward and dazai was standing over you. he carefully lowered himself, his eyes scanned you again and a smirk played on his lips.

"that's quite the act," he snickered, which caused you to let out a groan.

truth is, you weren't on enough pain medication to get to that high. however, it had been a week since you were admitted, and you were losing your mind doing nothing all day. the operation went well, but there was always a high risk of infection or post-op complications and they'd insisted you stayed 10 days for observation. you tried chatting with the nurses, tried exploring the place, tried sleeping to recover faster but every solution tired out after a while.

they gave you a few tools to navigate your surroundings, one of which was the damn walker. you'd done crutches and mobility aids before, casts, splints and braces, but no one liked the walkers. they made you feel like you were a hundred years old, and your body might as well be.

so, you decided you'd collapse and see what happens, how long it takes someone to come find you, rescue you and make your day just a little less boring. you settled yourself onto the ground, threw the walker and got comfy on the floor.

the man who approached you seemed a bit concerned at first, but he appeared to see through your games annoyingly quickly and called you out on it without even pausing to indulge. you let out a puffy pout and crossed your arms. "mannn, no one here is any fun."

you caught a glimpse of bandages wrapped around nearly every one of his extremities, almost like a decoration more than anything else. you slowly turned yourself and shuffled your body so you were sitting down facing upwards to look at him.

"what're you in for?" you asked with a snicker, getting over the fact your plan hadn't worked because he seemed to be relatively normal and you sure could use a conversation right now. "armed robbery? assault and battery? tax evasion?"

"you wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mimicked your expression, piquing your intrigue with a sly grin. you couldn't help but notice he was incredibly pretty, and you quickly developed another hospital crush; you roamed the hallways enough to identify the regulars but not enough to actually speak to any of them, and having stupid crushes on just about everyone kept your mind mildly active.

"what, you got jumped by an elite ninja squadron or something?"

before he could retort, clicking of heels resonated from the end of the hallway. the pace picked up when the nurse saw two patients laying down on the floor with a toppled walker, calling for some kind of a code. you giggled mischievously even when she realized you were fine and helped you up. the man who's been with you for a few seconds also received a verbal beating while responding just like you did.

your hands went to the metal of the walker, and you rolled your eyes while deciding you'd try to come back this way and speak to him again at night when they were understaffed and no one was going to pester you. you were barely beginning your plans to escape yet again when something deep within your body that had been altered recently felt like it burst. it didn't, but the pain and the sight of the blood you were coughing violently onto the floor made you rack your brain over the long list of possible complications.

fuck.

you fell onto the ground again, but this time it was painfully real. wafting in and out of consciousness until you couldn't tell if you were fainting, having a seizure or if something else had happened. the nurse turned around too late to catch you, but quickly yelled out that code from before and instructed the man go and get help immediately.

your body felt so broken.

you were never more pissed off to see the damn white drapes, walls and the same old view out the window accompanying that damn beeping.

your finger was clamped in some device reading your heartbeat, and a bunch of sensors were hooked up all over your skin. your head was groggy, a stiff pulsation throbbing at the back like you'd given yourself a concussion.

"mmmmn..." a languid groan was all you could manage; your throat was dry and you felt like you could eat the ekg right now. you wavering in and out of a daze for a few minutes while you tried both to fight off the sleep and fight off the day.

a knock at your door roused your attention once more. your neck hurt too much to crane over and take a look, but you could definitely hear the door closing.

"oh, it's you," you said, the bandaged man making another appearance. "sorry about today. I didn't mean to fake it 'til I made it."

the laugh at your own joke hurt your chest and you tried not to cough.

"it's actually been a bit longer than you think," he mused while sitting at the foot of your bed.

you hastily cut off any word that he was thinking of saying. "don't tell me! I have 3 days left before getting discharged, and I'd rather it come earlier as a surprise than right on time."

you did not ask him why he was here, assuming he must be in the same exasperated position. instead, you asked him your question again from the other day.

"or at least your name," you added. "I gotta know to whom I owe the honour of a visit. the nurses must really like you to let you pull a stunt like this."

he chuckled, mostly to himself. "oh, you've got no idea."

despite his weird way of talking like everything was a riddle and he was a spy of some sorts, the man - whose name you learnt was dazai osamu - was not so bad. he lent you his phone (you had no idea how he had managed to get away with this kind of thing) for you to call some close friends, and listened patiently while you told him how you'd ended up in this hospital bed. he however did not explain what happened to him, nor why he had all those bandages all over himself.

he didn't say much at all, to be completely honest. you blabbered long enough for the daylight to cease seeping in from your curtains, and it was dark when you were both laying down side by side in the tiny bed looking up at the ceiling in silence.

"thanks for stopping by," you hummed, eyes closed but a slow smile on your lips. "didn't think I charmed you that much with my hospital charisma. you should see what I'm like at full power."

you didn't need to open your eyes to know he was smiling back. "anytime, darling."

another chuckle at his words and another long pause. you didn't like the soft humming of the machines around you, but it was different when you weren't alone. heavy eyelids combined with steady beeping led you to start slipping asleep when he spoke up again.

"you wanna know what landed me here?"

damn him for choosing now to tell you. you stirred uncomfortably, body smushed against his while you tried to lay down on your side to face him, but it was incredibly uncomfortable and you quickly retreated back to the hellish laying on your back. you actions spurred him to continue.

"I was shot," he admitted nonchalantly. he seemed to be examining his nails and yawning like he wanted to emphasize just how much he didn't care much for the words he said.

"so my ninja theory wasn't so far off, then," you chuckled for a lack of a better response. "what'd the bullet pierce?"

dazai would never admit that he was mildly impressed that you didn't ask about who had shot him, or why. "the doctor said I'm a 'lucky bastard', because it missed all my vitals."

you have taken note of where the wound was, and confirmed again when he said that because he must really be lucky to miss out on death and major complications if he got shot in the abdomen and it missed all the important things in there.

"your doc sounds like they wanted you to have some damage," you remarked, gaze back on his face. maybe you were particularly tired, but his eyes felt so dreamy when he smiled. you decided you'd ask him out once you got out of the hospital.

"oh, she definitely did," he agreed, "but she's an old friend and I think all my coworkers were hoping for something more serious."

"kinda sounds like you did too."

he considered what to say; his double-suicide jokes felt incredibly out of place in this environment full of people desperately trying to cling on to life. even if you seemed to pick up on the general direction of what he was implying, he shook his head and turned it towards you.

"are you implying that I'm a masochist?" said with a sly smirk.

"are you denying it?" you mimicked his tone.

he did not, in fact, deny it. you fell asleep shortly afterwards teasing him about it, and he just took it with a stupid grin on his face. your head fell limp onto the pillow, and he only began to be convinced you weren't just pretending again when your jaw slowly dropped down to slightly open your mouth ungracefully and let out a soft snore.

he could've gotten away with falling asleep beside you, but he didn't know how his nurse would feel about seeing him in bed with another woman.

two knocks at his open door signaled your presence.

"no walker," he said, showing you that he was impressed with an exaggerated nod of approval. "next thing I know, you'll be running marathons around the entire wing."

you huffed proudly, thinking about flopping onto his bed but your body wasn't quite ready to be thrown around just yet. "ahh, I wish. I've been told I need to stay an extra week because of my little incident. how's your timeline looking?"

he put up a four, indicating how many days until he abandoned you. faking a sorrowful sob, you wrapped your hands around his leg and hugged it like a child trying to get their parents to stay. "nuh uh, you're not! what happened to 'til death do us part'? was I the only one who said those vows?"

"apologies, my dear wife," he bowed apologetically, snickering. "I guess I'll just have to injure myself to come back to you~"

your frown was instantaneous and serious as you scooched up on the bed. "hey, don't joke about that kind of stuff. my old roommate was recovering from an attempt and she had it rough. I hate it when people joke about suicide just to sound funny."

oh.

dazai was lucky that all the members of the ada were too busy to come and visit him, because judging by your reaction, you would genuinely hate him if they heard kunikida call him a suicidal bastard or ranpo ask him why he's in the hospital if he wants to die. you may have been faking a crisis playfully the first time you met, but he felt a little ashamed lying in your presence with how truthful you were about your emotions. he admired it, but didn't know if he envied it too.

"anyways, I have something for you," you winked at him, then reached into the sleeve of your hospital gown and pulled out a simple flower. it was disheveled and barely alive, but some of the colour was still there and your smile was bright enough to compensate. "ta da!!"

"I thought flowers were not allowed in this hospital?" he raised a brow, a subtle pink dusting his cheeks at the action despite his typical unaffected demeanor and the fact that this gift was incredibly insignificant. his fingers held the stem delicately as you seemed proud that he liked it.

"they aren't!" you beamed with a giggle. "kai - the boy a few doors down from me - his girlfriend brought him some and that one really mean nurse threw them out. I was walking by the garbage and picked the best one for you."

he watched you shift closer when you finished speaking and laughed. "trash flowers."

"reminds me of you."

"ouch! I think I'm gonna need more pain meds from that sting!"

you called him a goof and continued to tell him about the rest of the hospital lore. he had been holding the flower for quite some time, and you asked what he was planning on doing with it. he asked you to fetch him one of those ridiculously tiny plastic cups at the drinking water stations and fill it up. the dying flower sunk into the water delicately while positioned on his bedside table.

responding to your remark that the nurses will have to throw it out if he let it out in the open, he reassured you that that won't be a problem. he still refused to reveal to you his methods, though.

day came and went; you finally asked him if he'd be interested in going out with you once you were both recovered; he did you one better and kissed you under the moonlight.

you didn't care that the walls of the hospital rooms were thin; it was good when you were collapsed and the dull thud could mean the difference between life and death.

however, it made what you were doing even riskier.

"fuck... fuuuck, osamu take... mmn take it easy," you murmured against his lips, thighs parted as his fingers reached deep enough to get you shaking.

he was laying on his side, supporting his weight on his forearm while he buried his other hand into you with slow, calculated movements. neither of you were fully recovered and as much as you wanted to slam him against something and grind on him until he was a babbling mess, you weren't in a state to try just yet.

instead, dazai was spending his last night in the hospital making your thighs twitch and chest heave. things progressed fast after the first kiss, especially since the two of you had nothing to do all day but speak to the other. he occasionally got calls on his phone where he had to excuse himself to take it, but other than that you didn't have much else on your minds except each other.

he took you on a date to the cafeteria and offered you a fine dining experience (junk food he beat out of the vending machines) complete with the most exquisite wine pairing (a pack of juice boxes).

you took him on the next, sneaking into rooms where you most definitely weren't supposed to be wandering and broke into the nurse's lounge. you both stole uniforms and changed, although you had to admit he pulled off the dress rather well. you got him to throw on the tightest size he could fit into, and he did a little catwalk in his formfitting outfit. none of the staff caught you making out in the supply closet.

and the third day was simply another moment of lounging in each other's rooms and talking about nothing. he accidentally dozed off and woke up an hour later to your fingers tenderly running through his hair. he gave you the side eye, receiving a kiss on his temple as a response. dazai retaliated with a kiss of his own, and suddenly you were carefully trying to lay down on him to kiss him deeper, better, but your groans were of pain and not pleasure and he offered to swap positions.

and fuck, was this man talented. you were happy just looking at him and muttering about how pretty you thought he was, but he was a lot more sensitive to your little teases and fingers exploring the outline of his body than he let on, and he had pushed up the bottom of your gown to get in between your thighs.

"nnng... ahh, do that again," you rasped out as his thumb rubbed your clit with slowly, languid motions. "is this your... mmmnnn... your way of feeling guilty for leaving me haaah... here all by myself?"

"sorry," he quipped, albeit not looking sorry at all with that lazy grin as he looked at you through low lashes. "I haven't even left yet and you miss me."

your hips buckled painfully as a jolt surged through your body and made you muffle a moan into the side of his neck. "hey, I said take it easy. can't have me extending my stay just 'cause you fucked me good."

he promised he'd do his best, but only thrust into you with harsher movements once he saw you purse your lips to keep from whimpering. you called him a little shit, but that just seemed to make him even more smug.

a nurse heard you cry out, rushing to check up on you; they didn't see dazai hidden on the other side of your hospital bed while you explained that you just had a nightmare and woke up suddenly, promising to keep it down. they just sighed, walking out with a frustrated shake of their head as dazai popped back up and giggled along with you. you leaned your head over the edge of the bed, holding his face in your hands so you could kiss him again.

"miss, please wake up. it's time for your medication, and you have a visitor."

you weren't sleeping. how could you, when it was your first night not crawling into dazai's bed to talk yourself to sleep? he was finally recovered enough to leave, and all you could do was ask him for his number so you could call him once you were out. 3 more days wasn't quite bad, but it was already piled on top of the countless ones that had passed. boredom was even more bitter once you'd tasted the sweetness of a friend.

reluctantly, pills dropped into your hand were thrown into your mouth and swallowed dry under the watchful gaze of the nurse. he didn't seem to particularly like you, but you supposed he had a right to when you kept breaking all the rules they had.

"what do I have to do to be next?" a smug voice resonated from the doorframe, lanky frame leaning against the wood as he watched you swallow.

you felt well enough to get up and give him a hug, but he beat you to it and leaned down to kiss your forehead. he sat on the edge of the bed and stroked your hair out of your face with the kind of shallow loving nature he seemed to have on by default. it took a few hours together for that to wear off and for his actions to begin feeling genuine again, but you never commented about it. you supposed everyone did that to a certain extent and you were just a little hyperaware of his giveaways.

"I didn't think you'd come back this soon," you admitted, trying to scooch on the bed so he could sit next to you as you used to. he seemed however to shake his head a little.

"I can't stay long, dear, duty calls," he said, but the look you gave him showed that you didn't believe that one bit. it didn't take much for him to give in and curl up by your side, clinging onto your body with a childish expression on his features. "this persuasive with nothing but your eyes, did I ever tell you how incredibly talented you are?"

"you did not, in fact. please do it more often," you chuckled, ruffling his hair and kissing him on the crown of his head twice before pulling him into your chest, his nose nuzzling in your neck right under your ear. you swept your hand across your body to hold him, but your iv was still in and it nearly got tangled in your limbs as well. "if you've gotta go, then why are you here, osamu?"

he gasped dramatically, turning towards the entrance. "nurse, nurse please get me something to fix my broken heart! my sweetheart doesn't want me here! on my surprise visit!"

the nurse seemed like he really was about to come in, but much more likely to be in order to remove your problematic visitor than hand him a first aid kit and fix his "broken heart". you shushed him, laughing hysterically as he got all of his melodramatic needs out of the way, asking you if you've considered giving him your house in your will, asking how long you wanted him to mourn you. refreshing, he was refreshing. a breath of fresh air after all these stuffy hours spent in the hospital.

"do you really need to go?" you asked, cradling his cheek with your palm and rubbing slow circles with your thumb. "have you just come to remind me what I can't have, osamu? how cruel of you. you may have been the one shot but I'm pretty sure you just twisted the knife in my back."

he enjoyed your playful banter, but this time a more serious look was on his face. you tilted your head to the side, watching him curiously, trying to analyze his movements and figure out why he was acting weird when suddenly, he grabbed the trashcan from next to him and coughed into it.

"oh my god— osamu, hey, oh fuck, that's blood..." you swore to yourself, calling out loudly for the nurse as well as pressing the emergency button you had on your bedside while you got to his side and held him softly, unsure what to do. he always seemed so above all of this, the treatment, the pain, the entire hospital even, that it felt shocking to watch him cough up more and more blood into the can, rasping without a single witty comment in between.

you combed your fingers through his hair, pulling all of it out of his face as if you'd both been hungover college girls waking from a rough night. the blood seemed to be easing up, but he was wincing and holding his hand to the spot where he said that he'd gotten shot.

"osamu, baby, try to breathe for me. in through your nose, as slow as you can manage. help is on its way, they're going to find out what happened and you're going to be okay, alright? you can't die, we spent all this time discussing my funeral plans and not yours, so I'm not ready," you joked, partly out of habit but mostly because you wanted him feeling reassured as you held him and waited for someone to come in and fix everything.

he seemed to try to say something, but you clicked your tongue and wiped the mixture of saliva and blood from the corner of his lips with your finger. "don't try to say anything. store every asshole remark you want to make in your head and tell it to me later, once everything has passed. 'cause it's going to pass, osamu, it always does. you're going to be fine."

you glanced down at his shirt, noticing the widening pool of crimson in his chest, and hoped that you were right.

you were discharged, but feeling more sick than ever. pacing back and forth in the waiting room, you resisted the urge to go to the receptionist and ask her about his condition again, only to be told that a, you aren't immediate family and therefore can't be informed, and b, she didn't have any information about his anyways.

dazai had been taken into surgery to fix what sounded like ruptured stitches (he was pushing himself too much and they burst, according to what you understood) and you refused to leave without knowing how he was doing.

the wait was long, agonizing and you contemplated faking a relapse of your illness just to get inside and see for yourself, but quickly convinced yourself that you're not that desperate. yet. a doctor walked out, spoke briefly to the receptionist who pointed at you with a look full of attitude. you sighed out of relief, figuring this meant you were finally getting an update.

"so, the doctor told me that your surgery went well and you'd be alright in a few days if you actually followed their words this time," you finished recounting, holding dazai's hand and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles in between sentences. "then you, my sleeping beauty, took two lovely hours just to wake up. I slept a little while waiting, so if you find some drool on your sheets... technically, that's your fault."

drowsy, half-conscious but still able to weakly chuckle at your words. his fingers twitched a little in your grasp, so you just continued to hold him tenderly while he let out drawn-out gasps as he adjusted to being awake.

"try to focus on my voice," you offered, knowing all too well the experience of waking up and wanting to slither out of your body. "don't think about the pain, don't try to convince yourself that you're stronger than it. just listen to me, okay?"

he whispered a soft "okay" to let you know that he was going to try, and you smiled against the back of his hand.

"tonight, I'm going to stay here with you," you begun reciting, almost like a fairy tale that should've started with once upon a time. "I'll sneak into the cafeteria, talk to my guy to get you the good stuff, y'know the green jell-o that everyone is jealous of? tomorrow, I'll put you on a wheelchair and we can go terrorize the nurses again. the day after, we can just stay in bed and I'll kiss you all better so that the following day, I can give you a ride home and we can finally get the hell out of this boring place."

his grip on your hand slightly tightened, and you watched his face flush a soft pink. you checked his temperature, wondering if he was spiking a fever already, but realized it was the rosiness of a blush. you giggled at him and his flusteredness, holding him near and continuing with more tales of ridiculously detailed date plans.

he fell asleep again once you'd gotten to your plans on day 43, but you kept going until you got told visiting hours were over and you had to leave. you kissed his sweaty forehead and swore you saw him smile faintly as you walked out.

you did everything you told him you'd do.

you got him the treats he wanted, noticing how he was especially shy around you when you started bringing him the little trinkets. you bought him real flowers, too, making sure you hid them as well as possible from the hospital staff, but you were already professionals at this point.

after his incident, you learned about a softer side to dazai, one that led him to blushing and losing his words when you complimented him instead of responding with his own. you would surprise him with a spontaneous fashion show featuring the hospital's limited assortment of clothing options, or wearing the nurse's uniform again as you pretended to be helping him take his meds and reminding him to take it easy.

and he did. dazai finally listened, allowing you to pamper him and actually voicing when his pain was getting bad. he mentioned briefly, on a single occasion, that his past job involved a lot of physical pain, but you sensed that you shouldn't bring it up any further. you just let him fall asleep, over and over again, in your arms and never rushed him. the best thing was that you could pretend at work that you were still gone on medical leave, so no one bothered you while you stayed with him.

"does it bother you that I'm always around?" you asked softly on one occasion, helping him to and from the bathroom after spending nearly 30 straight minutes joking about piss kinks. "I don't mean to be too much, constantly by your side. I know some people get kinda annoyed when you care too much, too soon."

dazai, walking with his arm over your shoulder so you could support some of his weight as he made his way back to the bed, seemed to have his legs give out suddenly. your reflexes were fast, and you swooped down to catch him, his body arched backwards as you looked down at him like you had been dancing the tango.

the sneaky bastard smiled at you.

"you're cute when you worry," he said simply, and you briefly considered dropping him out of spite. instead, you kissed him and slowly brought him onto the bed. even more cautiously, you sat down on his lap, little to no weight actually being placed on him as you supported yourself on your parted knees. "hm? what's this? what happened to being worried about being too much?"

you ignored his taunt and sat there for a few minutes, just holding him, kissing him and whispering everything that went through your mind. "surely you aren't complaining, are you, sweetheart? yeah, I didn't think so."

it was harder for him to sit still than it was to endure the pain; he slowly got weaned off the medication, but at the same time he was strictly forbidden from going out, using his phone or seeing many people.

on the day of his discharge, you begged him to let you drive him home. he said that it wasn't your responsibility, that he would manage, but the man he was calling sounded like he wanted dazai to rot away in the hospital for the rest of his life.

"all of that because you don't do your paperwork?" you asked with a chuckle, sitting by his side with his belonging in a bag on your lap, waiting for him to finish his call with his friend from work, if you could call that friendship. "really, I told you that I don't mind. let me drive you home, I'm sure this kuni... kunikida guy will appreciate it. what exactly is your problem with that?"

"I like to maximize my time spent annoying kunikida," he explained sensibly with a grin, groaning slightly as he got up and sat back down on the wheelchair. you placed the bag on his lap and began wheeling him towards the exit while he continued. "it's been too long since I've been a pain in his ass, sooooo..."

"is that an excuse 'cause you don't want me seeing your place?"

he gasped loudly, gathering the attention of all that you passed by. "dear, I swear that I'm a good liar. how do you see through me so quickly?!"

"the same way you see through me, I suppose," you laughed softly. "and if you don't feel ready to have me so much as see your home, I don't mind, I'm a patient woman. get it? patient. it's a hospital joke."

your understanding of nearly every curveball he threw at you was too much, and quite frankly he couldn't handle it. every time he tried to push you away, gain some distance because you were getting too comfortable with him emotionally, too close to the parts of him that he didn't keep guarded, you somehow managed to take a step back without hating him or demanding more. he'd always been the type to let women fall for him, that's true, but you weren't asking for anything in return and he just didn't get it.

that was the reason dazai couldn't let you take him home, not because he was ashamed of where he lived but because your relationship was confined within the walls of this hospital and he was afraid of what would happen if you continued outside of them.

it was also the reason he found himself crying once you finally brought him to the front entrance of the hospital, about to check one more time with him that he refused to get a ride with you when you noticed his tears. panicked, you looked at his chest for signs of blood, his face for signs of fever or pain, anything physical.

"osamu, is everythi— nmmf!"

he'd never kissed you like that before, grabbing your face while you crouched down to look at him and just feel you, all of you, on his tongue. desperate and needy, like he'd never touched you before or like you were some kind of lifesaving drug (which you must've been: he hadn't thought about suicide in weeks, hadn't joked about it, hadn't asked someone to a double-suicide. the prospect felt so foreign, ridiculous when he thought about never seeing you again). in the middle of the lobby, you were practically making out all of a sudden which was why you had to pull away temporarily and look at him, confused.

you didn't ask him why he did that. you just laughed (he loved the sound of your laugh) and called him impatient. yet somehow, both of your gazes met and there seemed to be some kind of mutual understanding of the feelings involved. you were so genuine about your emotions that he both psychologically and physically broke.

he was silent as you wheeled him to your car, helped him in and told him to wait as you returned the wheelchair. he sat down, looking at the mess, the faint chaotic smell that somehow matched you perfectly and relaxed into the passenger seat. when you came back, asking him for his address, he opened his mouth meekly to ask if he could stay with you for a few days since he knew he would slack off on the meds and eat junk food if he was living alone again. he almost looked embarrassed as he asked it, looking down at his hands instead of at you.

he wasn't wearing his bandages. in truth, they'd been cut off since he had that emergency surgery, but he never put them back on. dazai told himself that it was because he liked to feel your skin on his, but deep down he knew that it was much more than that.

too quickly. dazai osamu fell in love too quickly and he didn't know how to make it slow down.

"osaaaaaaamuuuuuu!" you called out, trying to wake him up at 6 in the morning. "time for your medicationnnnnn!"

he pretended to snore, and you pretended not to notice his tricks.

you stood there, hand on your hip, sweaty as you were just back from your morning exercise. trying to keep your health in the kind of shape that you wouldn't have to go back to the hospital was nice, but the early mornings took a while to get used to. luckily, it helped that you had your snoring boyfriend as a natural alarm clock.

"oh, he's sleeping? that sure is a shame," you dramatically pouted, setting the small cup with the pills down on the bedside in fake dejection and loudly walking over to your bathroom. "I guess I'll just have to shower all alone..."

on command, the covers were thrown in the air, osamu yelling "I'm awake!" and swallowing the pills dry in a panicked frenzy.

it works every time.

he giggled, holding your hand once he got up in order to make sure you weren't joking and truly drag you to the bathroom. you barely managed to murmur a "good morning" before he was all over you, slowing down only when you told him to take it easy with a laugh.

you'd both met each other when you were broken, but right now you've never felt so whole.

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu x reader #dazai bsd x reader #dazai x reader bsd #dazai bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #down bad tm #im unwell for them

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chaotic-iguana · 10 months

Text

Refuge | chapter three.

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chapter three: damning rebirth

wordcount: 3.8k - my longest work yet lmao summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? warnings: angst, estrangement, anger, violence, sad, its like centered around finding yourself again, reader and joel are both quite complicated broken ppl im trying to do them justice, not much joel he’ll be in the next chapter i promise.

You didn’t speak to him for weeks after that first afternoon. You’d run out of words to say. You stopped speaking to his brother, too, for keeping you in the dark; ignoring Maria’s justifications, the constant droning of “…he did it to keep you safe, you know? So you wouldn’t leave Jackson’s safety and run after Joel. You could have died. Sarah’s death would have broken you, like it broke him, and you should be thankful that…”

You tuned her out after a while. It was getting tiring coming up with rude adjectives to describe how wrong she was in your head. There was no fight left in you to even protest, so you just left the room while she was talking. You loved her, but there were days you thought she just enjoyed hearing herself talk. Which she was extremely welcome to do, but with the acknowledgement that you would rather walk into a bloaters' den unarmed than sit through it.

Tommy had lied to you, kept the truth about your family from you, and no matter how many ways he spun it, it wouldn’t change the fact that when your first fucking words to him were asking about Joel and Sarah, he had looked you in the eyes and lied through his goddamn teeth when he said he didn’t know. He could go crying to Maria all he liked. You’d need a while not to recoil with disgust every time you saw him no matter how many times you got told to stop acting like a child. When Tommy realised the extent of your anger, he attempted to remedy it by telling you everything. Sarah getting shot on outbreak day - you still winced when he said it- and Joel’s time in the QZ, with a woman called Tess. You didn’t even know what to make of that. You probably couldn’t unpack your feelings about it if you tried. How he found the girl you’d gotten alarmed by - the job he got, how he took her in, how he lied to her and why she won’t look at him now.

You didn’t even bother forming opinions about any of it, let alone voice any. Thinking was futile; your thoughts or ideas or opinions or offense wouldn’t change anything, would they? You continued the same monotonous routine you had established for the past year or so since you arrived to Jackson, this time with even fewer occasions of leaving the house for a party or drink.

The shop and your bedroom became your life, the only people you spoke to were those looking for books. You’d collected them for years in the hope that if the outbreak ever got under control, there would be literature somewhere for humanity to remember what it used to be. Or perhaps a relic, serving as a legacy for a species long gone. Something, just to yell at the world and all those to come after, that you were here, even when you weren’t really. You hadn’t quite been here since the day the world had ended. Since the day you had lost everything. And now, twelve years later, all of it just came crashing back.

The pain was as if someone had crawled into your flesh, peeled your ribs back, and plucked your heart out.

Sarah had become less of a person and more of a concept to you over time. The intangibility that very literally gave you strength when you lay bruised and beaten, held down and overlooked by snarling strangers. She had been your salvation; your everything. Losing her wasn’t something you had truly came back from the first time around, suppressed guilt and fear and worry gnawing at the back of your mind. The reappearance of all of it, overshadowed this time by crippling guilt, was a cruel albeit welcome one. You wanted to feel bad - because much like Joel, it was what you deserved. You had failed - not only as a mother but as a wife, too. You should have just gone home on time that fucking night, but life got in the way as if often used to back then. All those little things that got blown out of proportion like work and deadlines and projects and careers didn’t even matter now. You should have come home. You should have been there.

You didn’t even want to imagine how Joel felt. To you, the ache was a phantom limb - trailing you wherever you went, interwoven with your shadow. To him, it was a stain on his hands that he never seemed to be able to rub out; he could always see a tinge of crimson coating his fingers, ever since that night.

Neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore.

Yet, even after all of it life simply went on, stuttering but still relentless in its proceedings. Pink, jagged scars marred the flesh of time as it stretched around the metalwork of the lives you had fought to keep, yet lost the worth of anyways. Fate is seldom kind.

It wasn’t too peculiar, this distance. Ironically, even after all these years, you both understood the other perfectly - as if each thought either of you had, each feeling you felt, was respected and loved and relayed by the refuge of your marriage, still. You understood that he was too ashamed by his self-proclaimed failure to speak to you, and he understood that the loss had so wholly devoured you that you wouldn’t have the strength to look in his eyes and be reminded of hers for a while.

The song and dance continued, the delicate persuasion of ensuring not to jolt the fragile existences the other had created for themselves. Joel didn’t come near your bookshop, and you didn’t go near Tommy, lest the words ‘family dinner’ be spoken into existence. Truly, he was idiot enough to suggest it. As if all that your currently brilliant (more like fractured) relationship with your husband (was he still? what about tess?) needed was a dinner with his brother, his sister in law, and the kid he had apparently adopted, lied to, and was now in a rough spot with. Gotta love reunions, no?

In another life, you would have stepped in. You would have spoken to either of them - perhaps even made more of an effort to include Ellie in your own life to ensure that after all she had been through, she wouldn’t feel alone even when she wasn’t doing well with Joel. In this life, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Joel acted like a selfish, moronic liar, sure. But if this kid couldn’t see, that at his very core, he was just plain scared - that he practically shook in his (adorable) cowboy boots anytime someone mentioned what happened to Ellie - then, great, she deserved Joel not realising that it was her decision to save humanity; to pay the price, to do what it took; entirely independent of him, or anyone else. You tamped down on the cynical part of you sneering at the romantic heroism of it all. The world knew now, better than before, how selfish man was. How utterly human, for Joel to struggle to separate his feelings for his own daughter and the one he had taken in; for Ellie to be too caught up in her own view to even consider what Joel was going through. It was almost like one of those plays you used to enjoy reading - like a Greek tragedy. The hamartia of both heroes was humanity alone.

They’d come around, eventually. Joel and Sarah always did, too.

The irony lay mostly in the fact that you had spent a decade craving him - his comfort and his warmth. The kneading of his large hands on your back after a long day; the scratch of his stubble when he nuzzled into your neck from behind. The years you didn’t have him were spent with only him in mind; a mindless worship of the love you had. Now that he was within reach; close enough to grasp and curl your fingers around, to sink an burrow into; you were… lost. The desperation; the wild frenzy with which you had remembered only them through the years - to have lost one now leaves you clueless about what to do with the other. The cracks that have made their way into your heart - the ones tainting your soul - you see them reflected in him, too. Your first look into his dark eyes told you that he, too, has done too much to be standing here today; that his first kill, too, had been the man he once was. No wonder you can’t bear to look at each other anymore. The grief - not only of what you have both lost, or what you once had, but the grief of who you both used to be - rears its ugly head in any room you find yourselves in together. Look at me, it screams. Look at what the years have done to me. I can’t recognise myself in mirrors anymore. I don’t see who I used to be. I was so beautiful. I was so good. Look at me. Look at me. Look-

Is this how the angels felt when they fell? You’d never know - there were no angels; there was no God. What divinity would allow for any of this to happen? This joke, this mockery of nature. You never were religious, but fumbled prayers had found their way into your vocabulary every night when you didn’t know where Joel and Sarah were. You - who had never even stepped into a church had prayed.

You must have forgotten there was nobody sitting in the sky to listen.

You had made your peace with the mutual decision to avoid him and the girl - not only because you didn’t even know how to start apologizing to her-but because you were content with the mere knowledge that he was here, that he was alive and breathing.

Tommy’s guilt worked in your favor, ensuring that he didn’t try pairing you and Joel up for patrols - likely fearful of the fallout that might occur (but like, what could even happen? another apocalypse?) but the comedown of that meant that you were paired up with Fred, instead. A man who infuriated you to no end, one who found it extremely interesting that you were once married, that you have a child. Had.

His ceaseless questions made you want to rip your hair out, but you refrained - if only so he wouldn’t have another reason to put his arms around you to try ‘calming’ you like last time. He was a bastard, but you didn’t have it in you to challenge him just yet.

Your answers to his enquiries were grunted or simply monosyllabic, your irritation clear as day in the set of your jaw, the slant of your brow. Nevertheless, like the dumbfuck he was, he persisted. So then how was this your fault?

It had been a decent morning. You’d gotten up early in time for the patrol, taken a shower, drank some water and arrived at the stables. But as you stood outside, you could hear the commotion of people inside - boisterous cheering and laughing as if one would hear in a pub. Interest piqued, you inched your way to the entrance of the barn silently, trying to understand what was going on.

“…fuckin’ whore’s been leading me on for like half a year, turned out she was married the whole time. Dodged a bullet, though. Nearly lost her shit when he told her that her kid died. Went completely apeshit and ruined my goddamn shirt with her snot- nearly clawed through my arm, too. Feel bad for the poor husband, had to yell at everyone to get out just so he could calm her crazy ass down. Everyone’s lost someone, lady. Get over it, right? Plus, girl that age wouldn’t have done too well at a QZ, know what I mean? Wouldn’t have gone untouched, anyways.” He paused for them all to laugh at the supposed comedic gold in his words - him and his little pack of primitives - and all you could do was stand there, glued to the spot in shock.

The fucking audacity. Leading him on? You fucking tried your best to get him to stop talking to you, stop touching you - and you didn’t claw at his arm because you were crazy, you did it because you were fucking panicking and some idiot was making it worse by caging you in. And that was brushing aside what he said about Sarah. No, that had you seeing red, chest heaving.

Fuck, the old you would have broken his nose on the first day. Never is too late to do the right thing, is it?

Just like before, a laugh was forming in your chest. A giggle at first, before you were chuckling, clapping a hand to your mouth and horrified with your own humour. The joke here was priceless, though. See - the world had ended, God was dead, and you were worried about being lightly reprimanded? Fuck that, and fuck him. You hadn’t let yourself feel fear out there. You hadn’t let yourself feel despair, and you sure as hell hadn’t let yourself feel hope. Joel’s arrival forced you to confront all the pain you had ignored. This cunt of a man was managing to unearth all the anger you had neglected, too. His fucking funeral.

Your tongue sat agitated against your teeth in anticipation, waiting to give way to the venom lacing the words in your brain.

Fury sparked in your blood, washing away all your hesitation. Fragmented, she etched herself into the ring of black that blew out your pupils; the unfaltering thumping of your heart in your chest. The threads of your fate were now in her slender, silhouetted hands, and all that was left for you to do was obey. Not that you had a choice.

Before you could so much as blink, you had burst into the crowd. Fred’s eyes widened at the wild snarl on your face, begging and apologizing.

He was unaware, though, of just how sick you had become of apologies. Tommy’s apologies, Joel’s apologies, Maria’s shitty ones, and then the sympathetic apologies you’d been getting from customers because apparently word of Sarah and her role in your life had spread like wildfire throughout Jackson. Joel wouldn’t have shared it, nor would Tommy- not when he knew you were two seconds away from breaking his nose just weeks ago. That left the kid Joel bought-Ellie-or Fred. And something just told you it wasn’t the girl. You’d trust Joel’s judgement blindly any day.

His empty sorrys fell upon deaf ears, his trembling voice cracking as he repeated them over and over.

You grinned, baring your teeth.

“Hello, Fred. Hello, everyone. Having a party and I wasn’t even invited?” You pouted mockingly. “Y’ know what I personally think is absolutely, knee-slappingly hilarious?” You paused, watching their curiosity grow as they fell hook, line and sinker for the cheerful façade, furrowing ther brows in question and stepping in closer. “How untouched you look, asshat.” Your grin dropped just as you rocked back on your heels, surging forward within a split second while throwing all your weight into your fist.

Just as it collided with the asshat's jaw.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You’ve been…frazzled since Joel came back, fine, but I cannot excuse your behaviour just because I know you or because you’re family. This was absolutely out of line, is that clear?” Maria stopped her pacing to turn to you, expecting a justification or an apology. You offered neither. When you refused to so much as look up from your split knuckles, she threw her hands up, huffing at her husband, who was leaning against the table sheepishly while wincing every time her voice rose as she yelled at you.

The door swung open and Joel practically stumbled in, eyes searching wildly until they landed on you curled up on a chair with your hands in your lap. Did news seriously spread that fast, even now? Guess people don’t have much to do when the world has ended.

“Look- I know, I know you went through a lot. At first, you were spacey and Tommy told me to just leave it alone. Then, you got the bookshop and you just spent all your time there or on patrols, never even trying to integrate yourself here, and I’ve let it go because he-“ a finger in Tommy’s direction, “-begged me to. Let go of your little…tantrum with Ellie, too. I watched Tommy mope around and I said nothing even when you refused to accept that he hadn’t told you about Joel, for your own good.” Tommy flinched, but she went on. “I just can’t do it this time. You broke Fred’s jaw, you know? He is a contributing, well-liked citizen in Jackson. Not a recluse. I didn’t believe you’d done it until I saw the state of your hand. You’re always so quie-just-just give me one fucking reason you would punch him.” She was panting by the end, her chest falling rapidly under the weight of her own tirade.

Joel had planted himself directly between you and Maria, as if trying to protect you from the onslaught of her words. He looked more apologetic than you did, hands extending towards her while he took a deep breath, attempting to placate her.

“Maria-now just wait a damn minute, she wouldn’t-“

Was he defending you? When had that happened? When had you become this-this blubbering, weak version of yourself that Joel had to protect?

The cold, unforgiving numbness loosened its grip; fear, guilt but most strongly, shame coiling in your gut. Maria was right, in her own fucked up way. You had retreated so far back into yourself that all that was left within your grasp now was mere tendrils of who you used to be.

Sarah would have been proud of me for punching the bastard, though.

The thought rang in your mind as you raised your head, squared your shoulders. Took the stutter out of your voice, and looked Maria right in the eyes.

“Your contributing, well-liked citizen said Sarah was lucky to die. That she wouldn’t have gone untouched in a QZ. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. And thanks to how well liked he is, I didn’t get a chance to tell you that he’s been touching me for months. That he took advantage of the fact that I was too fucking broken to say anything, to anyone. It’s not like you would’ve believed me.” You watched both Millers’ faces harden, brows furrowing as fury began sinking her talons in their flesh. Joel looked murderous, jaw set at that angle you knew meant he was livid. Good. You had been, too. Tommy looked shocked, anger painting his features, and his wife just looked terrified, eyes darting from you to Joel, wide and panicked. It made you smile at her, the curl of your mouth dripping with condescension and mockery.

“Maria, I’m so sorry you’ve had to overlook this many…grievances, let’s call them. I’ll work on my attitude here, I promise. I’ll go to book club and gossip about my husband and my dead daughter. I’ll do my hair and cut my nails and smile at people who don’t fucking deserve it. Hell, I’ll even forgive Tommy.” You pause, nodding at him, watching the relief in his eyes. Smile dropping, you meet Maria’s gaze again.

“But here’s what I won’t do- I won’t stand in a room with that asshole again without breaking all the other bones in his body. I won’t stay quiet next time his hands are on me - I’ll snap his fucking neck. Anyone else with anything else to say about Sarah - even if it’s just goddamn condolences - will find themselves in a similar predicament. Is that clear?” She blinked at you, mouth wide open at the radical transformation in you as you spoke, taking so long to nod that you doubted she’d heard you at first. You didn’t blame her - you’d folded in on yourself, made yourself small these past few years. Become meek: looking at the floor, wringing your hands; doing absolutely anything to avoid confrontation or issue. You’d been too tired to fight or stand on your own two feet, and everyone had focused on the wobble in your voice; the wet lining in your eyes; the shake of your hands, and just decided that just because you chose not to challenge them, you weren’t capable of it. Fuck that.

Joel’s eyes shone as he looked at you, chin dipping in acknowledgment as he, too, had a stunned look on his face. You just shrugged back at him, swinging your legs and getting up, walking out of the house without so much as a glance over your shoulder.

The flame that had forged your spirit - the fire burning in your veins, the one snuffed out long ago - flickered back to life. Dim, shaky, practically translucent - but ignited.

And fuck, it felt good to be back.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @breakfastatjoels, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues. dividers by me! series taglist (same rule: message/comment to be added or removed, no hard feelings): @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @planet-marz1, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin, @casa-boiardi, @noisynightmarepoetry, @chiogarza, @jasminedragoon, @daddy-din, @moonlightdivine, @stickthegremlin, @jamesmasbone, @avampiregf, @amanitacowboy

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fhrlclln · 2 years

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hi. literally JUST found your blog. dude i read both parts of you older man eddie fix and let’s just say i’m fucking LOSING IT. LITERALLG LOSING IT. OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO GOOD KFKSKFKGKGKDKKGGK PLEASE NEVER STOP

AND MAKE A THIRD PART OF OLDER!EDDIE WHERE THEY GO ON A DATE PLS PLS PLS IM DESPRATE

bABES I GOT U. TY SO MUCH y’all r nasty. also, sorry for the wait, i have conflicts with my schedule this week and i am currently vv busy. <3

older!mechanic! eddie x fem! reader pt. 3

a wonderful date and splendid fucking? also i’d like to clarify that reader here is about 22 and eddie is 32. so it’s set in 1998. ;>

—> pt. 1 , pt. 2

nsfw/smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

your feet carries you to the other side of the road, heart pounding and thoughts yearning. the streets were dark, only the post-lights illuminating the whole block.

it’s been exactly 5 days since the little horny incident inside of your room. shameful it felt but you didn’t give a shit. and for 5 days without your parents home, you got the whole trailer for yourself— including inviting eddie in to bless your room. the sheets smelled like him, heavy scent of sex and cologne mixed in the sheets alongside the cigar smoke, and maybe a little bit of weed. you warned him not to stain your sheets again when he‘s showing up in his work overalls. he mostly stayed through the night, he had work in the morning through night, so you were sometimes left alone to wake up seeing him leave.

and here you are, heading straight to his mechanic shop just near from the movie rental store, family video. he had informed you a while ago in the morning as he was about to leave, that he’ll take you on the date today he promised after work. you were giddy, feeling like a teenager again. you agreed, shyly kissing him goodbye, as if you’re a couple— you hoped. of course, you craved more than that fantastic sex, everything seemed to click whenever the post-sex conversation comes around. you, cuddling in his arms, talking about everything with him.

your eyes sparkled seeing him now in your view, talking with a customer, chief jim hopper you recognized. eddie looked extra good, cloth thrown over his shoulder. smiling at the older man with his arms crossed, sweat still glistening on his arms, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. he hadn’t shaved, the prominent stubble on his face showing. you grinned, waiting bit until they’re done to surprise him.

“done me a good fix-up again, munson. can’t thank you enough. joyce’s been itching me to get this oil changed.”

“no problem, chief. happy to help.” he smiled, waving off to his last customer seeing the chief leave with the fixed truck, knowing the byers-hoppers family is waiting for him.

now all he needed to do was clean up and close the shop. eager to get back to you so he can finally fucking get you on that date. he rounded to the back of the garage, tired as ever as he wiped the cloth on his greasy hands, tossing back the cloth next to the unorganized set of tools on the shelf. not noticing your light steps as you entered inside, the smell of rubber and gas in the air, making your nose scrunch. eddie was still busy putting things back, certainly annoyed of the clutter he had created throughout.

“gonna need that fucking cleaned, ah shit—“ he sighed to himself, picking up a plier on the floor. suddenly, a tap on his shoulder caught him off-guard as he swiftly turned around, not expecting anyone as he was about to hit the intruder with the pliers he was holding, he stopped.

it was you.

“baby.” he sighed, seeing you smile. “i thought i was gonna get jumped.”

“defending yourself with pliers, mr. munson?” you teased seeing his hand still raised in the air with the mini pliers. he looked intimidating enough you guessed, if he was going to hit an intruder with it.eddie rolled his eyes at you as he sets the tool down to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. you leaned into his touch eagerly.

“could poke their eyes out and shit. that little thing is sharp.” he grinned boyishly as the stubble of his chin tickled you how close he is to your face, he looked into your eyes, raising a brow at your sudden visit.

“thought i said i’d pick you up after my work?”

“s-sorry, i got a little excited. just wanna surprise you.” you bashfully mumbled. his heart thumped hearing that.

“for our date, ey?” he teased, kissing you again, on the lips this time. you whined against his mouth as he chuckled, mumbling against your lips. “you just couldn’t even fucking wait.”

“i missed you.” you whispered, circling your arms around his neck. eddie let out a low chuckle seeing you so desperate for his touch. he did missed you too, all day he’s been thinking what he’ll spoil you tonight for the date. his motor-grease stained hands dropped to his sides, a little cautious now, afraid he’s gonna get you dirty.

“as much as i would love to hold you, sweetheart. ‘m kinda greasy.” he whispers, kissing your cheek again. you huffed, visibly riled up as he stepped back with a smirk.

“i don’t mind a little grease…” you quipped, still a little shy as checked him out, leaning against the car behind you. gaze suggestive. he swore he might’ve pounced on you here and then.

“nu-uh, i’m not gonna fuck you here. it’ll be bad for business.” he chuckled, you blushed, rolling your eyes seeing him so smug as he unbuttons his overalls. familiar white tank top showing underneath as eddie busied himself in cleaning himself up in front of you. your eyes focused on him. mainly on his bulging arms, littered with tattoos over the years, you guessed. his biceps were mainly the killer part of his body you so adored, he’s buff, probably from lifting heavy objects in his profession, maybe working out from time to time.

he just looks like a fucking metal dilf.

well he’s not… yet. but, you could certainly make him one, if you could afford a child. that would be a thought you’d consider as you bit your lip, still checking him out.

“if you’re gonna keep staring like that. i might just make it true, sweets.” he warned, feeling himself harden each second seeing you innocently bat your eyelashes to him. “don’t wanna miss our date.” he added.

“you’re unfair.” you pouted making him laugh as he shrugged off the sleeves of his overalls, tying it to his waist as neared towards you, offering a cheeky smile.

“go wait by the van. i won’t be too long.” he murmured, kissing you again as you hummed and nodded. he kissed the tip of your nose before you complied. your scent leaving behind as he stared at your ass before he quickly changed back to get on with it already. hitting something along the way.

you could hear his clumsiness back in the garage. you giggled, waiting by his van for a couple of minutes. the ache in your legs a bit annoying, but you learned to be patient, knowing it’ll get what you want in the end. eddie was practically jogging towards you, seeing his hair still nestled in the collar of printed tee he wore, probably a band merch and a slutty pair of tight ripped jeans with chains dangling complimenting his whole intimidating persona, plus the scruff facial hair. he looked delectable.

“ready for your world to be rocked?” he opens the passenger side for you.

“as ever.” you nodded, fixing his hair a bit as you eagerly hopped in his van.

the start of the date was spectacular. he took you out to a diner, he was a little insecure knowing a diner wasn’t that of a fancy first date basis. but you didn’t cared, as long as you get to be with him then everywhere with him is fine. you talked, a lot, and he as well. you got to know that he actually has an uncle living in the neighborhood, just that he had move out a couple years ago with him having a stable business. most of his friends are still in hawkins, you also got to know about the incident back in ‘86 before the supposed earthquake happened.

“so you were eddie the freak.” you quoted, shocked and somewhat sad that he had such a bad reputation in this small town back then. “that’s so horrible.”

eddie winced at that. “took them years for that title to get it out of their mouths.” he shrugged, looking somewhat sad now. “but the charges dropped. i’m a free man now since then, sweetheart. people learn to forget.”

“still.” you frowned, knowing how fucked up he must felt for the whole town to blame him for a murder he didn’t do. “that must’ve been hard on you. having the whole hawkins call you that.”

“somewhat.” he nodded bitterly then smiling widely seeing you pout so cute, knowing your empathy.

“don’t go being sad for me, sweets. wanna see you happy.” he grasped your hand, bringing it close to his lips as he kissed it. “it’s all in the past.”

“would’ve defended you back then.” you sighed, giving a small smile.

“and you were 10 back then.” he sipped his milkshake, smirking as your eyes widened.

“don’t r-remind me that!” you huffed and blushed, the age gap between you two wasn’t a big deal for eddie, you were both consenting adults. but he somehow liked to tease you how you got charmed by his old-ass. even though he looked like a intimidating middle-aged man, you got to learn he had a boyish side of him that fitted his personality perfectly. he’s still eddie from ‘86, just a little matured, old and hotter.

and here the two of you are, laying down on his couch this time, watching a movie on the t.v. hocus pocus playing through. your whole body was snuggled up against his, warmth radiating from him. he took a shower, complaining he ought to smell good before you latch on him. he smelled good, his hair was slightly damp, he had a cigarette on his lips as he lazily took a whiff from time to time, focusing on the screen.

dilf. you screamed in the inside, how the fuck were you so lucky right now? your eyes hungrily glanced at him slyly. you weren’t really paying attention to the movie from the start, you just knew ‘i put a spell on you’ was playing, focused on the man snuggled up against you. eddie wasn’t that oblivious as he puffed a smoke away, speaking up.

“you really do have a staring problem, don’t you?”

“h-hm?” you averted your gaze from him to o the screen, thighs clenching, his hand on your thigh squeezed tight as you wiggled at his touch. eddie leaned down to place a kiss on your jaw, the residue smell of the cigar on his mouth a nice seductive touch. you keened at it, giggling as he descended down to your neck, peppering kisses.

“eddie.” you whined, feeling him nip your neck, as winifred sanderson sung the chorus in the background. your neck craned to give him access as eddie chuckled against your soft skin, latching away as he stubbed his cigar on the ashtray.

“you’ve been eye-fucking me all day, sweetheart.” he casually says, pulling you close.

“weren’t you the one who started that first?” you challenged, implying on the eye-fucking, remembering the time he had fixed your dad’s car, you were there, sitting patiently beside your dad while he sent you teasing glances from time to time. he was bold to do that while you were literally beside your father, blushing furiously at it.

“well, yeah.” he rolled his eyes, the smug grin on his lips never fading. “but look at what that did now. i got you.” he cooed, covering your neck with kisses again, making you ticklish when his lips grazed that sweet spot. he peppered more on that.

“you’re i-infuriating.”

“and you’re a fucking vixen.” he growled. “since that day you invited me in, that innocent persona of yours was gone, huh?” he pushed you down the couch as he towered over you, the ache in his jeans too painful. “you just couldn’t even wait now. so impatient, sweetheart. fucking greedy.”

“eddie, please—“ you squealed as he ripped off the bottom of your clothes, getting you in your underwear as he shrugged off your top as quickly as possible. almost ripping the cloths. he threw them away somewhere as he basked in the bareness of your torso and your legs. the marks he left yesterday still prominent on your soft skin. his tongue stuck out of habit as he reached for the back of his shirt to pull it over his head. you whimpered seeing his bare chest, chest hair prominent, his pale skin littered with tattoos and fading scars you’ve noticed yet did not pester to ask him about those. his guitar pick necklace rest beautifully on his pecks.

“be quiet.” he shushed you, gesturing to take your bra off. you complied, arching your back a bit as you unclasped it, your breasts bouncing out of it’s confines.

“jesus.” he muttered seeing your plumps of flesh jiggle before him as you tossed the bra away, setting back down on the couch comfortably. he grinned, descending down as you opened your legs eagerly for him. his hands touched your thighs, mounding the plump flesh as he kissed your knee then downwards. the stubble of his chin tickling you as you giggled at it.

“your beard’s tickling me.” you huffed, mixing with pleasure as eddie ignored you, focused on the wet patch on your cotton panties. wet and waiting for him.

“yeah, you fucking like it.” he quipped, curling his fingers on the hem of it as he roughly pulled it down to your ankles. your eyes widened as your bare cunt hit the cold air, eddie chuckled seeing you wriggle, he sat back down as he kissed your inner thigh, looking straight back at you with eager eyes. you blinked seeing him smirk.

“eddie…”

“be quiet while i eat your pussy out. wouldn’t want our christian neighbors hearing us.” he warned, diving in between your legs with no further warning. you squealed quietly feeling his tongue lap your wet cunt.

he ate you out like a man starved off his last meal. he was messy, so sloppy with his tongue circling your clit, sucking the engorged bead in his mouth, moaning at the same time with your tang taste. the vibrations sent pleasure all over your body as your hands gripped his curly hair. he groaned at the harsh pull, liking the way your thighs were squeezing his head. he could die like this, an honorable man’s death, dying between your legs and breathing in your pussy out like oxygen. god, would it make him more than happy. he lapped, sucked, shoved his fingers in to ready your cunt. eager to shove his whole cock in, remembering seeing your face of pleasure as he slurped your cunt out. he fumbled with jeans now as your quiet whimpers and moans riled him up.

he wasn’t going to hold back now.

“f-fuck!” you mumbled in the cushion of his couch. gripping the weed-scented cushion tight as your knees gave out a while ago. after he fucking ate you out, coaxing at least one powerful orgasm, he manhandled you onto your hands and knees, shoving his cock in, a little rougher but still slow to not hurt you. he fucked you from behind, hands gripping your ass, the sound of skin slapping lewdly filling his trailer.

“eddie, right t-there!” you gasped, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot making you see stars as your hand descended down to rub your clit.

eddie grinned. “right there, huh?” he mocked, pounding in harder as he shoved your hand away for his to replace, rubbing your wet bean faster. you sobbed, relishing the way his girth of a cock pound into with no mercy. you mewled, chanting his name like a prayer. your head went mushy, all you could feel and think about was his member, abusing your poor pussy as you babbled your mouth out, managing to keep it hush. eddie craved for your fucked-out brain, so cock-drunk as he is so pussy-drunk now. that title of his spewing out of your mouth now driving him wild.

“mr. munson…”

he shuddered.

“mr. munson, p-please.”

he remembers the first time you uttered that name out. like a aphrodisiac he so wanted to lure him in.

“mr. munson!”

like a fucking siren’s song that’ll drown him here and now.

“eddie—“

that one quiet whimper got him into a frenzy as he fucked himself faster, feeling his balls tighten as well as your cunt around him. he rubbed your clit, his chest pressing against your back, one arm situated at the side of your head for leverage, rutting into ruthlessly as he captured your lips, not caring if his neck would sore. you moaned, titling your head up uncomfortably, hand gripping his bicep, tongue circling with his as one last thrust sent you two over the edge to—

pure fucking euphoria.

eddie rode it out, driving your orgasm high as you milked him tight. your belly snapped, gushing out a bit of your liquid as he pumped you up full of his thick milky cum. you moaned as he grunted, pushing his cock in further, before he removed his hand from your clit, slumping against your body as his mouth panted against yours. you sighed breathlessly, your eyes fluttered staring at his brown ones. just pure affection.

“so g-good, baby. did so good.” he whispered hoarsely, kissing you again, soft and gentle this time. you hummed, reciprocating with ease. your bodies were hot against each other, sweat glistening both your skins. you kissed him so full of passion as you smiled against his lips. your heart thumped, the familiar feelings of butterflies as you pulled away to pressed your forehead to his. relishing the moment of the aftermath. his cock still buried inside you, connecting you two.

“thank you.” you mumbled, pecking his lips, thankful for the date and all. eddie smiled sweetly, his pearls showing briefly as the tip of his nose brushed against yours. something snapped in the moment as his gaze turned serious. the sound of the car in the background earning your attention as you focused on him. he looked like he was about to confess.

he stuttered, heart beating loudly as he admired you, chest full of adoration. “i l—“

“where in the hell is y/n at!?” your eyes both widened at the sound of your father’s voice. you gasped as you looked at eddie with complete shock, cock still buried in your pussy as your parents just fucking arrived back from their anniversary vacation.

“oh fuck.” you groaned as eddie let out a laugh. you glared at him as you squeezed him tight making him groan. putting his whole body weight on you as you yelled at him.

“ohh, fuck indeed, sweetheart.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

FUCK. literally. they fuck a lot.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #older!eddie #mechanic!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s quick ideas 💡 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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hyunnows · 11 months

Text

SHATTERED PUZZLES | 10

“a rude and arrogant patient with no identification wakes up from a year-long coma and develops temporary amnesia. Assigned to you, a volunteer who’s not going to put up with his attitude, you’re both in for a rough ride.”

PAIRING(s) | Hyunjin x reader, ft Minho x reader

THEMES | fluff, angst, a slight love triangle (i gotta stop with the skz love triangles–), amnesia!Hyunjin, Doctor!Chan, Rude!Hyunjin, car accident, trauma

WORD COUNT | 2.7k+

RATING | pg13

NOTE | ... well hello there. i know its been a while, and im so sorry for that. im still not really back yet, since i havent gotten into any sort of writing schedule or anything. but i wanted to finish this part up for you guys since i felt you deserved it. i also want to say thank you for all the support while ive been away, and hello to all my new followers and new readers for this series! i cant believe ive been working on this since i was 15 T^T its crazy to think ill be 18 in december... really thank you guys, all of you, im grateful for those who are new around here and those who have been with me since the beginning! please enjoy and have a great day/night!

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It’s been about three weeks since Hyunjin was betrothed to Yuna. The two have grown closer, but not as their parents believe. Now, she’s become more of a sister, and Hyunjin her brother.

She shares her crush on the shopkeeper she’s so fond of, asking for advice and tips. In turn, she gives Hyunjin the same—as well as tricks to keep his hair healthy. He likes having her as a friend.

In between their normal chatter and hanging out, they scheme. Researching legal documents, checking to see if there’s any way they can get out of marrying each other. It’s tiring work, but love is a powerful driving force.

“Do you know of any close family members that might be willing to take your spot?” Yuna raises her brow at Hyunjin. “I mean, I know I have a cousin or two that wouldn’t mind being in an arranged marriage for a few years. If you have someone to take your spot, then I think that they’ll let us off the hook.”

“That’s a good idea, except for the fact that I don’t know any of my family. The only family in my memories are my parents, and Minho I guess, but he’s not blood.” The blond frowns, sighing. Why did he have to be born to money hungry control freaks?

Yuna purses her lips, “I’ll have someone look into your family and see if you have any candidates. Until then, we have to just hang in there, I guess.”

——

“I’m dying.” You whine, hanging off the couch dramatically.

Minho and Chan shake their heads. “You’re not dying [Y/N],” the younger sighs, “I know it's hard, but you’re both safer this way.”

You know what he’s saying is true, but…

It's been over a month and a half since you were ripped away from Hyunjin, and you’ve thought of him every moment since then. You just want to see him--just be in his presence again. Unfortunately, you know that's not possible. At least, not according to Minho’s information on the blond.

So, while you may not be literally dying, you most definitely feel like you are.

And so when a particular idea pops in your head, you decide you have nothing left to lose, and voice it out.

“Let’s kidnap Hyunjin.”

----

“Yuna! Yuna! Where are you?” Hyunjin scrambles around, excitement all over his face as he races to find her. He’d been up since the crack of dawn, brainstorming ways to get out of their arrangement, and he finally came up with something. Now if only he could find her--

“Hyunjin? What? It’s early as hell,” she yawns, glancing at her phone and shoving the digital numbers in his face, giving him a good look at the time. 8:40 am. “What do you want?”

“They can’t force us to get married if one of us is already married.” He grins, panting slightly from the running around he’d done. Luckily, it isn’t odd for a fiancé to sleep over--or else the entire Hwang staff would be giving him a weird look all day.

Yuna curls a brow. “What do you mean? You want to run away and marry [Y/N] to get out of this?” She yawns a bit towards the end, rubbing her tired eyes with confusion.

His face is covered in shock for a moment before he picks up his jaw and shakes his head. “No, I love her, but she’s not ready to marry me yet. I barely confessed the day we were brought here.” He scoffs at the idea that he’d rush your relationship, which she rolls her eyes at. “You should marry Jay.”

Yuna flushes at the idea, mouth turning into a circle in surprise. Hyunjin knows she wants to marry the boy--she’s talked about it almost every day since they met, after all. “I-I don’t know… what if he doesn’t want to?”

Now it's Hyunjin’s turn to roll his eyes. “He wants to, trust me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you through the shop windows. He’s probably written his vows to you already,” he chuckles, his words making the girl redder than ever, which earns him a shove from her small hands. “Just ask him. If you two get married before our wedding, they won’t be able to force us together.”

Pursing her lips, she sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask.” Her agreement makes the blond cheer in satisfaction.

“Thank you Yuna!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waves him off, stepping back into her room and closing the door, “Let me get back to bed now.” Hyunjin apologizes and waltzes back down the hall to his room, and she can’t help but shake her head at his antics. “Weirdo.”

----

“You want to do what?” Chan all but yells, eyes wide in confusion. Sure, he’d heard a lot of crazy things pertaining to Hyunjin’s situation but you want to kidnap him? That’s a bit too much for the Australian to handle. “[Y/N] you know that’s illegal, right?”

You shrug. “Let's kidnap him. They kidnapped me already. Plus, Minho has pretty much done this before.” Your reasons just make the doctor sigh. “What? I can’t just sit around and do nothing anymore.”

Chan sees where you’re coming from, he really does, but as a doctor, he’s not sure he can condone this idea of yours. “But [Y/N], there’s no way you’re getting through their security and getting back here with Hyunjin safely. By the way, you could be arrested for kidnapping too. And you don’t have the money to get out of it.”

All of his stupid, logical reasoning makes you groan and roll your eyes. You know Chan likes to play by the rules—you usually do too—but for once, you just want him to support you and your bad idea. “Whatever, I don’t care! With or without you Chan, I’m gonna get Hyunjin back. I know he’s miserable, just like I am,” you frown, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “He deserves to be free, no matter who his parents are.”

As you strut away from the living room, Minho can’t help but stare at you in wonder. All this time, he’s known you cared for Hyunjin. What shocks him though, is that you seem to be the only person that can rival Minho’s love for his friend. ‘I can’t believe I’m going this again,’ he sighs, standing to follow you to your room so you can start discussing plans to break Hyunjin out. With the bright smile you give him when he agrees to your idea, he knows why it was so easy for him to fall for you. “So, what’re you thinking?”

Chan is completely flabbergasted, as well as disappointed, with Minho’s reaction. Sure, he knows Minho’s in love with you--everyone knows--but to go along with kidnapping Hyunjin? That sounds like more than love. It's insane. But then again, Chan also knows how much Minho cares about the younger boy, and how much he misses hanging out with him freely. “You guys are ridiculous, you know that, right?”

You glare at the Australian, but you can tell with the way he sounds stressed that he’s about to give into whatever plan you throw at him.

And so, you begin explaining your master plan to the two boys.

It wasn’t anything complicated. You would go as Minho’s date for the upcoming gala, disguised as one of their rich guests. While the two of you worked to find Hyunjin, Chan would pretend to be a security guard, and make a safe escape route. This was the base at least. You had also hoped to bring Han, Jeongin, and Seungmin along, have them act as caterers (if they agreed) and keep attention away from Minho, Hyunjin, and yourself as much as possible. Then, Minho would excuse himself, drive one of his cars around the side, and they would all slip out unnoticed.

So here you were, dressed all fancy, surrounded by about a hundred other guests. They’re all too busy trying to either get to Mr. or Mrs. Hwang to notice you, but you feel as if all their eyes are on you, judging you, picking you apart, and getting ready to notify the security of your suspicious presence.

It makes you shuffle forward a bit faster, and you bump against someone’s shoulder on accident. “I am so sorry--”

“Don’t worry about…” her eyes lock with yours within seconds, “What ar--”

You hold your finger vertically against your lips, telling her--Hyunjin’s arranged partner (who Minho warned you about and who was well aware of how you looked due to the social media pictures of you Hyunjin had shoved in her face)--‘don’t say anything’ and reconnect to Minho’s arm. Minho, who’d seen the whole thing, gives you a curt nod for not going off script.

Striding to the buffet table, you spot Jeongin in your peripheral vision, keeping the attention off of you. He seems to be doing a great job, considering all the older women were by him, gushing over the “adorable young waiter” less than discreetly. You’d seen his fiancée, now where was Hyunjin?

“I’m gonna go look around upstairs, you keep an eye out down here, yeah?” Minho leans down to whisper to you, looking at you for agreement.

You squeeze his arm and shake your head, “No Minho, everyone’s gonna know I don’t belong here if they see me without you.”

He sighs, stopping the two of you in your tracks. “Nobody’s going to know [Y/N], as long as you don’t do anything to attract attention, you’ll be fine. Just walk around and smile at people.”

You’re about to argue why that isn’t true when he slips out of your hold and walks off--meaning it would look too odd if you were to speed walk back up to him. ‘Damn you’, you think, before turning towards the art wall and deciding that would be a good place to start.

----

You were wrong.

As it turns out, the art wall isn’t actually just a small hallway with lovely paintings on the wall and a statue or two on display. It was an entire gallery bigger than your apartment by a landslide. You couldn’t help but be amazed at the family’s collection of fine pieces--but damn it if this wasn’t inconvenient to your search. You’re about 15 minutes into the gallery and still no sign of Hyunjin. You’re beginning to get cold feet about this plan and getting ready to call the whole thing off when a mess of blond hair and dark roots catch your eye. He’s admiring a painting, two bodyguards beside him, one on either side.

You want to run up to him, hold him so close you’re practically in his skin, his warmth all around you.

But you can’t, otherwise, all your planning, arranging, and sneaking around would go to waste. You dial Minho’s number and tell him the situation, and he’s by your side within minutes. He smoothly makes his way to Hyunjin, you trailing close behind and listening as Minho tells the guards something to get them to leave.

“Hyunjin, I brought someone with me,” Minho smiles, catching the younger male’s attention. Stepping aside to make you visible, Hyunjin’s jaw drops and Minho has to catch his glass out of his hands to keep him from shattering it on the floor. “Say hi.”

You can see his eyes get watery, his lip trembling as he takes a step towards you before he stops himself. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous for you [Y/N].”

Despite his words, you can’t help but melt at the way he sounds saying your name. “We’re getting you out” you whisper, staring into his glistening eyes. “We couldn’t just leave you here.”

“How? My clothes have trackers, there’s guards everywhere-- I don’t think you guys are getting out of here with me,” he frowns, grabbing his clothes to the light flickering in the seams. “I’m stuck here.”

“We know about the guards and everything. We weren’t prepared for the trackers, though,” your brows curl in worry as you look at Minho.

He mentions that he has extra clothes, then moves on to explain the plan to Hyunjin. He seems worried, but at this point, he’ll do anything to get out of his parent’s hold. With a sigh, he asks, “Do you know when Chan will be ready?”

“I was actually about to check,” Minho states, calling the doctor up quickly. He mumbles into the phone, hand covering his face, making it hard enough not only for bystanders and strangers to hear, but difficult for Hyunjin and yourself as well. However, the nod that's accompanied by the movement of his chin let you know enough. “He’s ready whenever you are,” he gives Hyunjin a look, before gesturing to a particularly broad-shouldered security guard standing by a door off to the side of the gallery with “SECURITY” written in bold print on it.

You begin tugging the blond towards the Australian, suddenly remember you’re all on borrowed time, and that the guards assigned to stay by Hyunjin could return at any moment. Upon this reminder, Hyunjin begins rushing towards the door as discreetly as possible, and Minho decides now is as good a time as ever to excuse himself as the getaway driver.

“Hey man,” Chan greets quietly, swiftly opening the door to the security room and ushering the two of you inside. Hyunjin nods, glancing around in confusion and paranoia. Upon seeing the younger male’s fright, Chan calms his fears, “Don’t worry about the cameras seeing us. I know a guy who fixed that for us.”

Han’s voice comes out muffled from Chan’s headset, making Hyunjin and your own eyes widen. You knew he had some interest in computers, but you didn’t think he actually had any knowledge to help with something like this. At least now you know how he never seems to get viruses from downloading so much questionable software (he would really do anything to get free streaming services). “Yeah I covered for you guys, but you only have like 5 minutes left before the cameras start capturing live footage again. In other words, hurry up please.”

You all begin moving through the route, which is incredibly clear. The security room connects to dozens of other security rooms through hidden hallways. You suppose it only makes sense, considering just how rich the Hwangs are, for them to have such an intricate hidden system within the walls of their household.

Within 3 minutes, you three make it out the back door, where Minho is quietly pulling up, undetected. Hyunjin had removed his shirt during the walk, and ditched his shoes when you guys left the first security room, only needing to change his lower half’s garments now. He hops into the back, quickly replacing his own clothes with those Minho had given to him, ridding himself of the trackers. You hop in the back soon after beside him, Chan and Jeongin piling in soon after with the elder taking the passenger seat and Jeongin squishing himself beside you, barely buckling in when Minho steps on the gas.

“Alright, cams coming on in three… two… one-” just as Han’s voice finishes the count down from Chan’s phone, Hyunjin’s phone goes off with alerts, which are quickly followed by a spam of phone calls that make him throw his phone out of the window in fear as Minho begins speeding down the road towards your side of town.

Hearts pumping with adrenaline, you and the blond face each other simultaneously, tearing up immediately as you lean in to embrace each other’s lips for the first time in far too long. His forehead presses against yours as tears run down his cheeks, his hands caressing and wiping your face. “I missed you so much.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you lean into his neck, arms wrapping around him to pull Hyunjin close to you, afraid he might disappear if you let go, “I missed you more.”

He lets out a painful laugh, squeezing you tighter to him, and shaking his head as if to gently disagree with you. He can’t fathom you missing him any more than he missed you. “I love you.”

A wistful sigh escapes you, a choked sob following not long after, “I love you too.”

The three boys glance back at you, each of them wearing a soft smile. However, Chan found it difficult to see only joy in Minho’s eyes after hearing your proclamations. He doesn’t mention it though, allowing you all a moment of peace.

----

After arriving at Jisung, Jeongin, and–at this point–Minho’s apartment and settling in, one question plague’s your minds.

“So…” Jisung begins, “What now?”

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