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lys1 · 3 years

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Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words.

Playing With Potions

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The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

#the arcana game #asra alnazar #the arcana #asra lemon #asra smut #asra x reader #asra x female reader #writing #fanfic #arcana smut #arcana #arcana fanfic #asra fanfic

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frogtanii · 4 years

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“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years

Text

i know, you know.

summary -> bucky would die for you, but that’s not what you want from him.

words -> 1.7k

warnings -> light angst & near death & use of nickname (sweets)

notes -> i started game of thrones & i am obsessed with the idea of medieval bucky now so add that to my wips list

»»————-　☾　————-««

Bucky has no sense of self preservation.

You’re unsure if it’s because when he was a boy he was sent to war where it wasn’t a when you come home, it was an if. Or maybe because he’s lived so long he doesn’t feel like he needs to worry about life.

At first Bucky’s martyr-like care for you had made your pulse race. Throwing himself in front of punches thrown your way and saving you from bullets by reaching out his metal arm.

Then you realized he never thought things through. He just threw himself into harms way without worrying about whether or not he would survive the action.

You’ve learned all this within the two years you’ve known him. He’s become your best friend. Something more than that too. Shared stares and secret kisses that leave your heart fluttering and skin heating.

You love him, the kind of love that bubbles under the surface of kind smiles and more than friendly touches.

The kind that leaves your leg shaking as you sit beside him now, because Bucky Barnes has been asleep for three days.

A bullet had tore through his chest and left him gasping for air and bleeding out at your feet. You had dropped beside him to your knees after sending a bullet through the attackers chest.

“Sam, you’ve got to get us out of here.” You gasp into your comms. “Bucky’s hurt.” Your hands come to rest over the wound and you press harshly against them.

You look around in panic. “You idiot.” You mumble to him. Bucky’s blinking slowly and is obviously in a daze as he tries to focus on you leaning over him. “

“I’ll die before I let someone hurt you.” Bucky whispers. Your hands are stained red and Bucky’s eyes slide shut again after he breathes the words out. You let out a choked cry as you stare down at him.

“He’ll be okay.” Sam’s hand is resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “Bucky is a fighter.”

You shake him off. “Bucky is an idiot.” You snap. Your eyes trail over his chest that’s rising and falling steadily.

‘He’s lucky.’ The doctor’s words come to your mind. ‘If it weren’t for that serum he most likely would have bled out in the field.’

You can’t stop thinking about the scene. The tips of your fingers are still stained red, the blood stubbornly refusing to wash away and remains a constant reminder of Bucky’s words in the field.

“Bucky is an idiot with no self preservation.” You start again. The words that had been caught in your throat the past three days come tumbling out like vile. “He’s selfish and doesn’t have any remorse for his choices or any idea what his actions may do to the people who care about him.”

You look at Bucky again. He doesn’t stir. His chest is still rising and falling steadily while his eyes remain closed. “I’m going to get a drink.” You push your chair our abruptly. Sam jumps away from you as you shove past him.

Guilt weighs you down immediately. You hadn’t meant to snap at Sam and you certainly didn’t mean all you said about Bucky.

It’s just - Bucky isn’t supposed to look like that. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. His skin pale and body completely immobile as he sleeps.

It has you panicking. Bucky, your Bucky, was strong and unmoving in a way that left enemies shaking. He had an aura that made you feel warm and confident with him by your side.

The hospital walls are a blank white that leave you simultaneously nauseous and comforted as you rest your back against it and shut your eyes.

Nobody stops to ask if you were okay or if you needed help, many of them too busy or preoccupied with actual patients. It was relieving to be able to have a moment of silence with nothing in your thoughts but what may be going on with the people you watched moves throughout the hospital.

How many were visitors there for a similar reason to yours? How many regular patients or who was a favorite nurse?

Sam’s voice makes you straighten out when you hear your name. You look at him apologetically, but before you can get the words out, he cuts you off. “Bucky’s awake.”

You pause. “Just like that?” You ask dumbly. You knew that this is what would happen. The doctor had explained that Bucky had been placed in an induced coma so his body could heal on it’s own and that he would wake up on his own time.

After three days though, you can’t imagine looking into Bucky’s eyes. You don’t know how to after seeing him so close to death.

“Just like that.” Sam says kindly. “I told you he was a fighter.”

You swallow thickly in an attempt to hold back tears. “I don’t… I’ll be in there soon.” You settle against the wall again.

Softly, Sam speaks, “Soon? He’s asking for you.” He tilts his head in an attempt to get you to look at him, but your eyes stay stuck to the ground. “Nobody ever said Bucky wasn’t an idiot, but he’s an idiot who cares. About you.”

“He can care about me without trying to kill himself!” You exclaim. You shoot an apologetic look toward the nurses who glance over at your voice.

There’s a beat of silence before Sam sighs. “He can. But how is supposed to know that? All Bucky has known is war, maybe in some way saving you from violence is all he knows how to do to show he cares.”

You look away again before you heave out a sigh. Your mind is a scrambled mess of panic, stress and exhaustion. All you want is to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

“I’ll give you some time.” Sam presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “Just talk to him, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly. “I will.” When you don’t move, Sam raises his eyebrows. “Just… Give me a second.” When Sam leaves you in the hallway again, you suck in a deep breath in preparation.

<- ☾ ->

“Sweets.” Bucky smiles softly when he spots you in the doorway. “Been wondering where you were.”

You look him over like you’re expecting to see him covered in blood again. “Needed some air.” You answer curtly.

Bucky watches you quietly as you move further into the room. “Something wrong?”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You avoid answering the question. Bucky notices you pause at the end of his bed and stares with furrowed brows.

When you don’t say anything else he forces out an awkward chuckle. “I’m always gonna be okay, sweets.”

“That’s not true.” You snap. You heave in a breath as Bucky watches with wide eyes. “You don’t get to just… Just wake up and be fine.”

“I am fine.” Bucky waves his hands out in front of him as if to show you. You shake your head in disbelief. “What? I am!”

“Your blood was on my hands!” You yell, shocking Bucky into silence. “You were bleeding out! Bucky, I had to watch you almost die in my arms. You don’t… You don’t get to sit here and just say you’re fine.”

“Sweets…” Bucky trails off. His eyes move over you like you’re a wild animal and he’s afraid you’ll pounce. It makes you even more upset that you look like the irrational one here.

You look away. “You were bleeding out and there was nothing I could do but watch. I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” His voice raises and you know it’s so you’ll look over at him again. “Just let them hurt you?”

There’s a moment of tense silence before you nod. “Yes.”

“I’m not doing that. I can’t and I won’t.” Bucky’s shaking his head wildly at the thought of you getting hurt. “That’s not an option.”

You scoff. You’re still standing at the end of his bed and you can’t bring yourself to move closer. Not with how angry you are at him. “What is this self-sacrificial bullshit? Who does it help?”

“You!” Bucky yells. You’re almost afraid somebody will come in to check on him and find the two of you in the midst of a fight. “I’d rather be in this bed than see you in it.”

You let out a humorless laugh, but it just ends up as an exhausted sigh. “I can’t lose you, Bucky.” You finally admit in a whisper. “I can’t… I need you here, alive.”

Bucky’s eyes soften as you looks you over. “Come here.” Your eyes grow teary as he opens his arms for you crawl in beside him. “Please, sweets. Come lay with me.”

“Bucky…” You sniffle as the beginning of a sentence trails off. You move quickly to lay beside him, careful of the wires. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

His hand runs up and down your arm as your head rests on his shoulder. “This life. My life. It’s been full of violence, I just want to protect you from it.”

“You can protect me without almost dying. I won’t watch you do this again.” You look up at him sadly, the sound of his monitor beeping steadily somehow helps you breathe calmer as you push the words out. “If you want me in your life, you’ll give up this self-sacrificing bullshit.”

Bucky shifts so he can look down at you. “What else should I do?”

“Let me fight on my own. Have faith that I can handle myself.” Your hand trails down to intertwine with his. “If I… If I ever got hurt in the field like this, I’d rather you fight for me than die for me.”

Bucky inhales sharply. “I do have faith in you.” His left hand comes up to rest on your cheek and turn you eyes to face him again. “I know you’re a good fighter. I just… I…”

“I know.” You agree. The words are clear in his eyes and the nervous smile on his face. “I just need you to promise me, no more being a martyr. I don’t need anything else right now.”

Bucky’s thumb gently runs over your cheek bone. “I promise to try.” You allow your eyes to shut as Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

There are words unspoken between you two. Things that should be said and talked about, but it can wait. You’re content to lay with him, like this, for now.

»»————-　☾　————-««

notes -> just a short bucky piece while i work on my longer fics! next part of the survivor series should be out soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes writing #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #sam wilson

216 notes · View notes

angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER TEN: VIGIL

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 5267 Rating: T - canon typical language, descriptions of injuries, hospitals and reference to medical procedures, spoilers for Bad Samaritan, grief and fear, A/N: Well, here we are. It’s been a long time...it’s because, well...I didn’t wanna do this. Shooting him hurt, making Ryne sit, incapable of doing anything to fix things, killed me.

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A grim tension settled over the cab as you and Sean rushed through the dark Portland streets, feeling like you were always just a little too far behind the ambulance. His knuckles were bleached by how tight he gripped the wheel. There were tears in his eyes, and for the moment, you felt numb.

“I'm going to drop you off and then go back to Erendreich's to figure out exactly where he's keeping the girl,” he said, sounding strained and exhausted.

“Sean. Please don’t do this,” you begged. “I know you want to save this woman, but...think about what it would do to your family if something happened to you.”

“What about her family? What about what it will do to me knowing I left her there and did nothing?”

“You haven’t done nothing! You found her, you told the FBI, and got them to move and do something for fuck's sake, even if it is just 'start an investigation.' You’ve done enough. Let them take it from here. It’s their job.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t, Y/N.”

“Please Sean.” You bit your lip to keep back tears, afraid if you started crying again now you'd never be able to stop. “I can’t lose you too.”

“Hey,” he reached over to give your hand a quick, comforting squeeze. “You haven't lost Derek. He's tough. He'll pull through, alright? And you'll be right there waiting for him to wake up and give him hell for scaring you, us.”

“It would be better if we were both there.” You wanted to believe Sean, that everything would somehow, miraculously turn out okay, but there was a weight like lead in your stomach, and you couldn't.

“I will be. After I save the girl.”

“Fine,” you sighed in frustration. “Since you won’t give this up, at least be careful. If you get yourself killed, I’m going to be pissed.”

He laughed, the sound filling the truck with a moment's warmth as he turned into the hospital driveway. For a second, things almost seemed normal and the only darkness came from the night around you.

“And when you catch up to the guy, make sure he knows he pretty much failed, and sucks at being a serial killer. Nearly everyone he tried to kill survived.”

“You...want me to taunt him?”

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged stiffly before exiting. “Bastard deserves a taste of his own medicine. I'd do it myself but…”

Your cousin shook his head in disbelief. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Call me, as soon as it's done, okay. Or if you finally grow a brain under all that hair and give up."

“I will.”

He nodded and you cast him one last look, considering getting into the truck to go with him. Then you remembered Derek, hurt and alone and possibly still being blamed for his parents' deaths and a chill hand clenched around your heart. You couldn't, and added making you choose between them to your list of reasons to hate Erendreich.

“Hi, I'm looking for Derek Sandoval,” you said nervously to the nurse at the front desk. “He was brought in by an ambulance just a little bit ago? He was shot?”

She frowned. “And who are you?”

“My name is Y/N.” You bit your lip, biting back nerves and tears.

“Are you family, dear?”

“No. I...I'm his girlfriend.”

“Does he have you listed as an emergency contact?”

“No. I don't think so. To be totally honest, he's terrible with paperwork and probably doesn't have one at all.”

“Then I'm afraid I can't give you any information. I'm sorry. You're welcome to come back, and I can give you an update once we have permission from the patient or someone authorized to make his decisions.”

“You don't understand…” you protested.

Your heart raced and your throat felt like it was starting to close, you couldn’t breathe and your ears rang. All you could think of was what had happened the last time you left him alone. You couldn’t. Not again, not now.

“His parents were both killed by the person who shot him. His sister is only seventeen, and out of town. I'm all he has and he's...too important to me to let something happen to him. Please don’t make me leave.”

Your battered lungs screamed as you tried to take in air. The world was spinning as panic threatened to overwhelm you. You clung, white knuckled, to the edge of the desk. Fear mixed with the pain of your injuries and you felt like you were going to collapse, or be sick, maybe both.

The nurse offered you a sympathetic look.

“Listen, I understand that you're distressed, and the situation is complicated,” she said, “but rules are rules. Now, if you were to go down the hall, take the third left and end up in the surgery waiting room while I'm getting a cup of tea, I wouldn't know a thing about it. I'll just have to assume if you're not still at this desk, you've gone home. And I certainly wouldn't know if you talked to Dr. Franklin, who may or may not be Mr. Sandoval's attending.”

“Thank you...for the information,” you said carefully, smiling gratefully.

“You have a good night,” she answered, “I'm off on a break.”

She stood up dramatically and walked away. You took a deep breath, praying that you wouldn't get caught or kicked out as you followed her directions past the desk.

Dear Y/N, you have been placed on academic suspension, effective immediately, pending full investigation of…

Pursuant to your academic suspension, your scholarship has been revoked and you will be responsible for the full balance…

Y/N, we regret to inform you that we are rescinding our previous offer of employment with our firm. We pride ourselves on…

You scrolled numbly through the emails that had come in, unnoticed over the last few hours, from school and the job you had secured for after graduation, from your bar prep program and the state examiners, while you waited for any news. Erendreich was destroying your career and future, piece by piece and you were watching it in real time.

But at least there was nothing else he could take.

Even as the thought crossed your mind, you opened your cousin’s contact, thumb hovering over the call button before you sighed and set your phone down. You wanted desperately to talk to him, to know he was okay, to be there with him, but you knew trying now would just be a dangerous distraction.

You looked up expectantly as a nurse entered the room only to deflate as they passed you to speak with someone else. Not knowing anything about either of the two most important people in your life felt like it was suffocating you. Your hands dragged tiredly over your face, trying to fight back the hopelessness settling in the longer you waited in silence.

“Fuck,” you muttered, quietly giving in to the tears you had been fighting for hours, tucking your knees up to you chest.

Arms looped around yourself, you eventually, reluctantly, let those tears drag you into a fitful sleep.

The sunrise peeked through the windows, burning your tired eyes. It was well after midnight when you had been escorted into this room by the kind-eyed, sympathetic Dr. Franklin. It hadn’t taken much to explain the situation, and while he still wouldn’t tell you anything specific, he had said that surgery was a lucky success and that, for now, Derek was fighting hard and had made it through the first round of the worst of things.

It didn’t quite feel like he had though, from where you sat in the hard plastic chair beside him. Wires seemed to run from every part of his body to the steadily beeping monitors on the other side of the bed, and he had tubes connecting him to pumps and drips and all sorts of intimidating looking machinery. His hand felt wrong in yours, cold and limp and not returning the affectionate touch, and you struggled to push away the word “corpse-like” from your thoughts.

You pressed a lingering kiss to the back of his hand, before resting your cheek against it.

“Derek,” you whispered hoarsely, fighting back more tears and wondering if there would come a point where you had cried so much that you couldn’t anymore, ever again. “I love you, okay? And I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. But please, I need you to wake up. I need you to be okay.”

You sighed when he didn’t show any signs of recognition, of movement or awareness, or life. It hadn’t been like you were expecting him to magically open your eyes and crack some joke about you being an angel, you knew that you weren’t part of a romcom. But you had hoped, beyond reason, to feel or see something, anything that told you it would really be okay.

You felt hopeless, helpless, and let your mind start to wander down the endless dark pathways of what ifs: what if Derek never woke up, what if he did but he didn’t remember you, what if you lost him, what if Sean was being buried in a shallow grave in the woods at that very moment, what if after finally letting yourself fall in love and opening yourself to a person you ended up completely alone in the end anyway.

You weren’t sure how long those thoughts dragged at you, threatening to overwhelm and drown you, unable to be fought back in your worried and exhausted state. The pain from your own injuries made your stomach roil, and the hospital room felt suffocating. A knock on the door and one of the techs entering startled you out of the mire of it all, making you jump and gasp in fright.

“Sorry,” he rushed apologetically. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just have to come in and…well actually I have to take Mr. Sandoval–”

“Derek,” you corrected quickly. “He hated…hates being called anything that makes him sound like his father, or an adult.” You tried to laugh but it came out forced and hollow and the tech nodded with a slight frown.

“Right. Okay. I have to take Derek and go run a few more tests, scans with him. It’ll take about a half hour, if you wanted to…maybe get some fresh air or food?”

Icy water seemed to creep down your spine, paralyzing you. “Is…is that normal?” you managed to get out through lips that felt numb and tingly.

“What? Oh yes, absolutely. When someone’s been through a trauma like this, it’s our policy to run regular scans, to try and catch any potential problems as early as possible.”

You nodded hesitantly. “Ok…I’ll…I’ll get out of your way then.”

You winced at the stiffness that had settled in as you sat there and he grimaced sympathetically when your joints cracked. Still reluctant to leave Derek’s side, you hovered in the corner as he was wheeled out. But it only took a few minutes of pacing nervously in the too empty room before you realized that a half hour like that would drive away the last of your sanity, so you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration and left.

You hadn’t made it more than a few feet down the hall, when an unfamiliar voice asking one of the nurses for directions to Derek’s room caught your attention. You stepped defensively into the woman’s path, blocking her.

“Who are you, and why are you looking for Derek?” you snapped, glaring.

“I need to ask him some questions about what happened tonight. Please move aside.” Her tone was authoritative and held an undercurrent of frustration that surprised you.

“Who. Are. You?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “My name is Agent Olivia Fuller. I’m with the Portland branch of the FBI, investigating Cale Erendreich. Mr. Sandoval is reportedly connected to the case. Now please, move out of my way.”

“The one my cousin talked to. Derek won’t be able to answer your questions right now. He’s still unconscious and only just got out of surgery to remove the bullet that Erendreich left in his head after murdering his family. Besides, instead of questioning the victims, you should probably be, I don’t know, tracking Sean’s phone or something? He left hours ago to ‘finish this.’” You said flatly, trying to hold back the absolute fury you felt for her and her colleagues and the fact that they seemed to have done jack shit while people you loved got hurt and risked their lives.

Agent Fuller gaped at you, and a manic giggle surprised you, escaping at her expression before you could stop it. Then she said something to a nearby cop, and everything exploded into a flurry of action.

As quickly as it began, the commotion disappeared, leaving you standing alone and confused in the hall. Not knowing what else to do, you shrugged and continued on your initial mission to the nurse’s station for directions to the nearest cup of coffee.

After that, things started to feel like a blur. Someone brought you a cot, usually reserved for parents who had little kids they couldn’t leave alone, and you were able to lay down, near enough to know immediately if anything happened, and get a few hours of rest. Jocelyn came in to give you an update of how Riley was doing, and check on you, though she quickly got frustrated and stormed out when you refused to go home and “take care of yourself.” You gathered the courage to call Bela and leave her a(n admittedly distracted and nonsensical) voicemail that something happened and you needed to talk to her. At around midmorning, a tray appeared on the room’s little table with a muffin and some drooping bacon and a tiny paper cup of orange juice. Two hours later, the same tray was collected, untouched.

By now, your gut felt like it had tied itself into knots that would never come undone. You hadn’t heard anything from Sean yet, and he had been gone too long. Whatever happened would have by now. And after the last few days, you could no longer hold to the adage that no news was good news.

But your body fought against your mind, and you had just about given in to the urge to return to the cot when a nurse came in.

“Excuse me, but do you know a…” they paused to check the paper in their hand. “Rowan Falco?”

“Yes, that’s my cousin, why?” your heart picked up speed. “Don’t tell me he’s in the hospital now too?” You wouldn’t put it past Erendreich to try one last, desperate run at Sean’s family, your family, and you couldn’t bear the possibility of anyone else being hurt.

“No! No no, he’s looking for you. He and his parents are waiting for someone that was brought in a little bit ago.”

“Sean!” you hadn’t meant to shout so loudly, but you were so overwhelmed by even that scrap of information, and by everything that had happened, that volume regulation was no longer a concern.

“Would you like me to take you to them? Or give him directions here?”

“I…yes please.”

They looked puzzled and you realized that your answer didn’t fit their question. You chuckled sheepishly when they waved off your apology.

“I could use the excuse to walk, so I’ll go see them. But…will someone be able to let me know if…”

“We’ll come find you right away if Mr. San…Derek’s condition changes.”

You nodded, following the nurse down the hall to a little side waiting room that seemed like a closet someone had repainted and stuffed a few chairs into. Rowan was curled into one of them, looking like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Your aunt Patty sat in another, wringing her hands, and Don paced the little patch of open floor. They all looked up when you entered, and before you could blink, three sets of arms had you wrapped in a hug, and all of you were crying.

“I’ll just…uh…leave you all alone,” the nurse said, making a quick exit and closing the door behind themself.

When the hug finally broke, you found yourself wishing that they’d held you a few seconds more, you needed it. Quickly their voices became overlapped with questions and concern, except Rowan who had retreated into himself again. You did your best to recap, glossing over Sean and Derek’s (and your) potential firing from Nino’s and your run-in with the car, instead focusing on Riley being thrown down several flights of stairs and Derek getting shot. In return, they told you about how Sean had tracked Cale to his cabin near Mount Hood, and saved the girl, how the FBI had arrived just in time, and the madman apprehended. Sean and the girl, whose name your family still didn’t know, were brought back to Portland, instead of a local hospital, since their injuries were severe but not life threatening, and as soon as a doctor had finished examining him, he was allowed to have visitors.

“Thank god. I told him not to get himself killed, since I couldn’t stop him from going,” you said with a rueful half-smile. “For once it sounds like he listened to me.”

Your aunt and uncle chuckled at that, and invited you to stay with them, and go see Sean for yourself. You opened your mouth to refuse, wanting to be back at Derek’s side when something stopped you, and instead you nodded, making them smile and nod in approval before resuming their ‘waiting with worry’ behaviors. Dropping into the seat next to him, you bumped your cousin gently with your shoulder.

“Hey Ro,” you said in the lowest whisper you could manage. “You good?”

He stayed silent, jaw tense and working like he was chewing on his words in order to decide whether or not to speak.

“No,” he settled on eventually, grunting the word like it pained him to say.

“That’s not surprising. You wanna talk about it?”

He looked for a moment like he wanted to say yes before he sullenly shook his head and turned away from you with a sigh.

“Okay.” You paused, before adding in casually and at a slightly higher volume, “you know, hospital food gets a bad rep. Want to take a walk?”

He was quick to agree to that, and the gurgle of your stomach, actually desperate for food now that you weren’t literally sick with fright added an air of believability to your cover. As soon as the door closed between the two of you and his parents, he hugged you tightly again, burying his face into your shoulder to hide his tears and you were reminded painfully of how young he was and how hard this must be for him.

“It’s my fault Sean got hurt,” he mumbled as you awkwardly patted his shoulder blade in an attempt to comfort him.

“What are you talking about Ro?” you asked, frowning and trying to pull away to look him in the eye.

“I let him use my computer on some picture he had. That’s where he got the address. If I hadn’t he wouldn’t have been able to go out there.”

You laughed incredulously. “Oh Ro. This is your brother we’re talking about, and he had set his big, stubborn head to a course of action. Do you really think he wouldn’t have found another way to find Cale?”

He seemed to think for a moment, frowning as he looked for a counterpoint.

“Listen,” you slung your arm over his shoulder, pausing to marvel that at some point even your baby cousin became taller than you, and trying not to make it obvious that you were using him as a human crutch while you steered him toward the cafe. “I get it. It’s easier to find a way to blame yourself than just accept that it was some evil horrible guy you’ve never met and don’t have a face for. I keep thinking if I hadn’t pointed out that Cale was attacking people they cared about, Derek wouldn’t have gone home to check on his mom.”

Rowan nodded quietly, looking like he still didn’t quite believe you.

“Sean’s going to be fine,” you continued, covering his hand comfortingly with yours, grateful to have something to do, and to be able to say and mean that. “He’s here now, and safe.”

“And too bull-headed not to be?”

“Exactly. Our family’s good at being that. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Shall we see what’s what?”

When you were finally allowed to go see Sean, your family holding a secret vote to let you go first, you all but threw yourself at him. Hugging your cousin tight enough to make him wheeze, you let out a sob that you didn't know you'd been holding back. His arms circled you in return and you clung to each other, both trembling.

“Sean, I...I was so scared. You've been gone for hours and I thought…” you stumbled over your words in your rush to get them out.

You pulled back, finally really looking at him and gasped. Cale had clearly done a number on his face, his left eye swollen shut possibly beyond repair and that entire side turning a fascinating marble of red and purple, blue bruise undertones standing out along the bony parts. Not to mention the suture tape where his eyebrow had been reconnected or the split along his lip. And he looked exhausted, almost hollow.

“Christ, you look like crap,” the words slipped from your lips before you could think.

“Thank you so much for that, Y/N,” Sean said, his tone dripping with his characteristic sarcasm and it warmed your heart. “Very supportive.”

“How bad does it hurt? Should I let you rest or can you tell me everything now? Did you find the girl? I know you took Cale out, thank god, and that he’s going to be arrested for everything he’s done but did you save her? Is she going to be okay? Who was she? I don’t have much of an update on Derek, other than that he made it through surgery and they think he might make it which is better than it looked for a while. And Riley’s–” Sean squeezing your hand tightly caught your attention and stopped you mid-sentence.

“Slow down,” he laughed, wincing as the expression pulled at the swollen skin.

“Sorry.”

“Let me talk to my mother and Don and then I’ll tell you everything. Maybe they’ll even transfer rooms so I’ll just be sitting with you and Derek anyway.”

“And Rowen.”

“What?”

“Talk to Rowen too. He’ll hate me for telling you, but…he was pretty freaked out. And self-blame-y.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re right. I should let you talk to them. And rest. And we’ll talk later. I feel like I’ve been away from Derek too long anyway. But Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For coming back and being okay.”

“Like you’d have let me be anything else.”

You chuckled in response and hugged your cousin again before he shooed you out, and you returned to Derek’s room, feeling like at least one weight had lifted.

Days went by. Erendreich’s arrest and everything he’d done made the news, and empty gestures of support in the form of flowers and cards (which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at when they were coming from neighbors who had been all too ready to believe Derek was a murderer) poured in. Nino stopped by with a lasagna and a promise that all three of your jobs would be waiting for you, whenever you were ready to come back. Derek’s sister, returned from her road trip, had opted to stay with her boyfriend, though you had also offered her a spare key to your place, and you couldn’t say you blamed her.

“Hey,” a voice said softly, announcing the other person’s presence in Derek’s hospital room one afternoon, before their hand rested on your shoulder.

“Bela, hi,” you looked up, trying to force a smile onto your face.

“I can sit with him for a while,” she offered, “you should take a break.”

“You know if you kick me out of here, I’m just going to go down the hall to Sean’s room.”

It was exactly what you had been doing, drifting from one man’s side to the other — once trying to visit Riley before she made it clear she was still upset and didn’t want to see you — as you waited for something to change.

“You should go home. When was the last time you went to class, or ate something that wasn’t from the vending machine, or slept?”

“I took a leave of absence from school. I’ll get caught up before finals, it’ll be fine. And I go to the cafeteria. I had some soup a few hours ago.”

“Y/N…” you weren’t sure if her voice was more exhausted or frustrated, and you felt a twinge of guilt that she was worrying about you on top of everything else.

“I’m okay, really, Bel, don’t worry about me. Although, I can’t sleep, to be honest,” you shook your head, admitting in a whisper, “I’m too scared.”

“My brother loves you, you know? I don’t know if he ever grew the balls to tell you, but he does, a lot. And he wouldn’t want you to be doing this. You’re going to make yourself sick, fretting over him when there’s nothing we can do.”

The strain in her voice reminded you that she was stuck in the same horrible position you were, helpless and forced to just sit around and wait to see what would happen when Derek woke up, if he woke up. She was just as exhausted, and aching, and when you paused to really look, had deep circles under her eyes and a frailty to her that she hadn’t before. You stood then, turning to wrap her in a hug.

“I’m sorry Bela,” you murmured as you rested your cheek against her hair. “I should be the one looking out for you, not the other way around. He’s your family, and you’ve already lost…” you pressed your lips together with a sigh. “Fuck. This is a mess.”

“How about this, Y/N,” she said, tone shifting slightly into a confident almost-sales pitch, striking you suddenly with how alike she and Derek were. “We make a pact to look after each other, since neither of us knows how to take care of ourselves, apparently.”

You smiled fondly. “Sounds like a deal.”

The two of you put on your most serious faces and shook on the deal.

“Good. My first act under the pact is making you go home and sleep, and go to class tomorrow if I have to drive you there myself.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You really are his sister. And I should have seen that coming.”

“Probably. Now go. I’ll call if there’s any change, you know that.”

“Fine. But only if you also get some rest. The cot in the corner is surprisingly comfortable actually.”

“I think you have Stockholm syndrome toward it,” she squinted in dramatic suspicion at the furniture in question. “But I promise, I’ll try.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Okay.”

You kissed each other on the cheek, giving one more reassuring squeeze to shoulders, and you reluctantly left the room, restraining yourself to only pausing to check on Sean on your way out.

Sean was released from the hospital after about a week, most of his injuries (a concussion, broken eye socket, and other surface level damage) things that were best healed by time and rest. The woman he’d saved whose name you learned was Katie, a few days after that. She stopped into Derek’s room briefly on her way out, to try to apologize though you wouldn’t let her take that blame. You weren’t sure when Riley got out, only that one day Sean went to try and speak to her again and she was gone, some inkling in your mind saying that it might be the last you ever heard from her in fact (confirmed later when Sean called in tears because he’d gone home to find a box of his things on the porch with a note giving a time and date when Jocelyn would be by to get Riley’s).

Time slowly started to creep forward again. You stopped jumping at unusual noises or shadows, attended a few of your classes and worked for hours at his bedside to catch up on and review your notes. Sean gave statement after statement to the FBI, and one or two to clever journalists who managed to get the jump on him and leave him feeling like there was no other option, and was put in touch with a trauma counselor to help him relearn the meaning of “safe.” It wasn’t clear yet about the repercussions of his criminal acts that had started the whole mess, but you were hopeful that it wouldn’t be severe.

You “celebrated” your birthday in Derek’s hospital room. You, Sean, Bela, and a vending machine muffin, sans candles. The steady beep of his heart monitor replaced The Birthday Song, and that was mostly fine with you. It didn’t feel like happy was really possible anyway, so why waste breath on pretending?

Finals came and went, and while your grades were passing, you still managed to be disappointed in yourself that they weren’t as high as you’d hoped. You forced yourself to go to graduation, for your family’s sake, and you tried to enjoy it while it happened, to cherish the memories that went with it, knowing it would be what Derek would want you to do. But it was impossible with a giant hole in your reality. You hadn’t realized just how much of a presence he was until it wasn’t there, or how badly you wanted to share all of your life moments with him. You were almost thankful when studying for the bar gave you an excuse to withdraw. You could study from anywhere, and had nowhere else to be.

You had just set your notes aside one summer afternoon, rubbing your hands over your face to push away exhaustion, when the heart monitor that had become an unnoticed part of your environment made a strange noise. You looked up in horror, but everything seemed to be fine and you wondered if you had imagined it.

You sighed again, and rested your arms on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing against Derek’s, and your head on top of them. It wasn’t comfortable, but the cot had long since been removed, and it was better than trying to lean back and toppling the chair over, again.

“I hope that you’re not crying over me,” the words croaked and slurred, voice and muscles protesting from disuse.

Your head shot up, staring in shock. You were sure you were hallucinating or dreaming but you didn’t care. After months, it felt like your heart might explode out of your chest with the hope.

“You’re awake?” you breathed, tears now actually springing to your eyes and fingers trembling as you reached for him.

“Guess so. Unless you’re an angel and I’m--”

“Don’t even joke,” you cut him off, shaking your head vehemently. “Please, don’t.”

#please note I understand NOTHING about medicine or how long these things would actually take #I also have given up caring about those details in favor of the story #anyway #it's here at last #and very roughly edited because I have been working on this too long and just need to get it out #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #fix it fic #but that still HURTS

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drmmyrs · 3 years

Text

Remember Me (Becca x MC)

So, weird story. I was randomly browsing tumblr one time when this ask pops out at the top of the screen (req about amnesia au Becca’s POV). It wasn’t even related to anything I was reading but checked my inbox and it wasn’t there. Most probably the ask isn’t for me but still wrote it just in case 😅

PS if someone DID send me this ask, kindly drop me a message just so I know I’m not seeing things 😭

PPS I’m trying out a new writing style and I’m not sure if it’s any good so I’d really appreciate any feedback 🥺 (this will be a mini series too, I think, since the angst potential is definitely there 😂)

PPPS title is inspired from the song in Coco just cause I’ve been playing it a lot on piano recently

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 2090

I don't remember what happened, nor know where I am, but I hear shouting, lots of it. I try to move, but my body feels completely numb; the only thing I can feel is the trickle of liquid that splatters across my face. Rain? I open my eyes strenuously, but all I can see past my blurry vision are brown eyes glistening with tears. I can't quite make out her face, but for some reason, seeing her cry sends a flurry of emotions that hurt more than my throbbing head. I try to open my mouth, hoping to provide comfort somehow, but no words come out. She is saying something over and over again, something about leaving? But my head hurts too much to be able to comprehend. A siren then blares from a distance, growing louder by the second as flashes of red cloud my vision. And that is when everything turns black.

I slowly open my eyes–still reeling from the nightmare that somehow felt too real–and harsh, blinding lights immediately greet me. I hastily shut my eyes back and suddenly become well aware of the ache engulfing my entire body. It isn't before long that I realize that someone is holding my hand, tracing lazy circles against my skin ever so often. I try to move it but only manage to lift a finger, and at once, the grip tightens and becomes still for a moment before I hear a voice– How can a voice sound so familiar... yet so strange? It's saying my name, urgent and gentle at the same time as though I might break at any second. I try to open my eyes, but exhaustion grips me powerless. And soon, I succumb to its fiery grasp as I slip back into slumber.

When I wake up again, I already feel much stronger than before. The ache in my body has turned into a dull hum as if sharp nails are gently caressing my skin, enough to be felt but not to hurt. I look around the room, panic swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of different medical equipment looming around my bed and needles sticking out of my arm. I fight the urge to squirm as I take big, calming breaths, ignoring how the four white walls seem to close in on me. Thankfully, the door opens, and a nurse walks in, temporarily distracting me from my distress. She smiles upon seeing me awake and walks towards me.

"Welcome back, Ms. Davenport. How are you feeling?"

"W–where am I?" I ask weakly.

"In the hospital. A month ago, you were involved in a car crash, and your head was hurt pretty badly," the nurse says sympathetically. She is now taking my vitals, scribbling something on her chart from time to time.

Car crash?

I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember, but the harder I try, the more my head hurts.

"Wait. A month? Are you saying that I've been here... for a month?"

The nurse nods. "You've been unconscious the entire time. But your vitals now are looking good. The doctor will just run a few tests to make sure we don't miss anything."

I stay quiet for a while, my mind still processing everything the nurse just said, which has only raised new questions.

"Your friends and family were really worried about you, you know. There wasn't a day when you didn't have any visitors. Especially that special friend of yours you were in the car with." The nurse turns towards me, holding a pen against her chin. "What was her name? Em–Emma, I think? She barely left your side. She actually just went to grab some food before you woke up."

...I don't know any Emma, but I don't tell her that.

"What about my parents?"

"Your mom and sister usually visit during the evening."

"And my father?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think I've ever seen your father."

The nurse leaves after a while, and the doctor comes inside the room shortly. I answer a few questions before I'm escorted outside to take some tests. Afterward, the nurse leads me back to my room and gently guides me to bed.

"Would you like me to call in your visitors?" the nurse asks.

I nod.

The nurse goes out, and soon my mom walks in followed by–

"Emily." I frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Both of them stop in their tracks. My mom looks at me in concern and confusion, while Emily looks like I just punched her in the gut.

Anger bubbles up inside me as a realization comes to mind. "Y–you. You're the one who did this, aren't you? You're the reason I'm here."

A guilty look flickers across her face, confirming my suspicions. And before I can stop myself, I shout at her to leave, but she stands there motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Go get the doctor," my mom tells her, which snaps her out of her shock. She scurries out of the room at the same time my mom starts walking towards me.

"Why is she here, Mom?"

My mom stops at the side of the bed and reaches out to stroke my hair. "Honey, the accident was not her fault."

"But she was there with me..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

My mom's hand goes still, resting on top of my head. "Becca, what was the last thing you remember?"

"I..." I close my eyes and think hard for a moment. "I–I remember hosting the Kappa party. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I leave with Emily?"

A brief look of panic flashes across her eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

My mom smiles at me, but it looks forced. "It's nothing, sweetie. The doctor will be here soon."

But I can see that she's trying her best to keep calm–the look on her face similar to when she would talk to my little sister and me right after we would hear her and dad fight.

The doctor comes in a little while later, asking a bunch of questions similar to my mom's. They then do more tests on me, and I grow scared by the minute, not understanding what the hell is going on. Eventually, I'm back in my room alone, my mom and the doctor staying outside to talk. After some time, they enter the room, and my mom sits beside me, taking my hand as the doctor walks towards the other side of the bed.

I look at my mom, drained from all the medical tests I went through the entire day. "What's happening, Mom? I'm scared."

My mom squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. "The doctor will explain it to you, sweetie. But I'll be right here the whole time." She then gives a single nod to the doctor.

The doctor smiles at me politely. "How are you feeling, Becca?"

I stare at him, suddenly annoyed at being asked the same question over and over again.

"Right then." The doctor clears his throat. "During the accident, your brain was affected more than we initially thought." He pauses, and I meet his gaze, willing him to go straight to the point. "It seems like you have retrograde amnesia, meaning that you have no memory of the past three years of your life."

The doctor goes on and on about the technicalities, but I'm not listening anymore. His voice is reduced to background noise as I repeat his words inside my head, trying to grasp the implications of what he just said. I prop myself up, looking wildly around the room, tugging at my shirt as if it would help me breathe. But it doesn't. My body feels numb, which is why I almost don't notice my mom pulling me into a tight hug, stroking my back comfortingly as she whispers reassurances. I focus on her voice, forcing myself to take deep breaths as I slowly begin to calm down. I pull away after some time, recomposing myself as I find my voice.

"Three years," I whisper.

"We'll help you recover your memories, honey. But for now, you can ask me anything you like."

"I–I think I just need some rest."

My mom nods, helping me settle back in bed before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow.

Sleep comes easy to me, and I wake up the next day with Madison sitting at the chair next to my bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, Maddie."

She looks up from her phone, a smile lighting up her face before she practically jumps out of her chair to hug me. "Becca!"

"Ow, that... kinda hurts."

When she pulls away from me, her eyes are teary.

"Sorry, I just missed you so much. You were gone for so long! I thought–"

"Hey, hey, none of that," I say, smiling at her.

She pulls the chair closer to my bed and sits down. "How are you, Becca? Your mom told me about your... condition."

I stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, it sucks." I snap my head back to her. "Tell me something. Do we still hang out a lot?"

"We still meet up from time to time. Not as much as we used to, though," Madison says, smiling sadly.

I nod. "Who do I usually hang out with now?"

"Emily."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Did we become close friends or something?"

"Oh, right. You've only been together for like two years," Madison murmurs contemplatively. "She's your girlfriend, Becca."

I let the information sink in. "You have got to be kidding me." I stare at her wide-eyed. "How–What–Why?"

Madison recounts our 'love story,' each detail more absurd than the last. I don't want to believe any of it, but Emily as my girlfriend... it actually explains everything. I rub my temples. How the hell did that happen? I remember like it was yesterday when she tried to steal Chris away from me. And now... and now...

"Maddie? Can you do me a favor and grab me something to eat? I'm starving."

Madison smiles. "Of course."

Madison goes out in a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

After a few more days of recovery, I am finally allowed to leave the hospital. Despite my protests, my mom explains that I will have to stay with Emily and her friends at what I assume has been my home for the past two years. She explains that she prefers for someone to look after me constantly, and she will not be able to do that with her job and all.

Outside the hospital, I find Emily waiting near a car; her eyes are bloodshot, as if she hasn't slept a wink in days. When she sees me approaching, her face immediately brightens up. Our gazes lock briefly before I turn back to my mom.

"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"

My mom smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish you could, but..."

"It's okay, I understand."

"Look, I know you don't remember, but these people you've been living with... they care about you very much.”

I nod.

My mom pulls me into a hug before guiding me inside the car, shutting the door afterward. She and Emily talk for a brief moment outside, and I watch as she hugs Emily before walking away. Emily steps into the passenger seat.

Zack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, turns around and smiles at me warmly. "I'm glad you're back."

I shift uncomfortably, ignoring his gaze. "Thanks."

We drive home silently, awkwardness saturating the car space. Upon arriving, I observe the details of the house, seeing if it sparks any memories... but nothing. I see Emily looking at me intently, probably thinking the same thing. They then lead me inside the house, and I step in hesitantly, taking in the surroundings, which vary immensely from the sorority house, the last place I lived based on my memories. Emily guides me to my room, lingering near me as I open the door.

"Becca–"

I turn towards her. "Please don't. I know you think I'm your girlfriend. A–and I guess I was. But as far as I remember, I don't like you at all. So I would appreciate it if you just leave me alone." I turn around and go inside my room, shutting the door behind me. I then lie on the bed, trying to forget how the light dimmed out of Emily's eyes as I broke her heart.

#becca #becca davenport #rebecca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman series #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #the senior #playchoices #play choices #my work #my fanfics #my writing #request??

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onhirel · 3 years

Text

A Birthday Spent Apart

Akko jerked awake in the chair to the sound of her phone buzzing insistently on the desk of the hotel room in Tokyo that her agency had put her in, and confusion roiled through her for a moment before she managed to pick up the phone. Peering blearily at the display, she blinked before dread settled in her gut at the sight of Diana’s name at the top of her phone’s screen, accompanied by a picture that Lotte had taken of the two of them, Akko hugging Diana from behind, both of them smiling for the camera.

She didn’t feel like smiling now, not when...

She swiped to answer the video call even as she wiped at her eyes to remove any of the gunk that her unplanned nap might have caused. “Hey, Diana!” she said, trying to sound as bright and cheery as she could, even as she felt terrible. After all, Diana shouldn’t have been the one to call her, she should have been the one to call Diana because...

“Oh! Akko, did I wake you?” Diana sounded surprised, and was that a hint of hurt that Akko detected in her fiancée’s voice?

She wanted to deny it, wanted to say something to reassure Diana that that wasn’t true, but she couldn’t stand the thought of lying to her. “I guess I fell asleep,” she admitted, shame replacing the dread. Of all the days for her to do so!

A short burst of static as Diana sighed, though she was smiling softly. “Akko, it’s okay, I only just got home myself. What time is it for you?”

An olive branch, something Akko could use as a way out, even though she knew that Diana always had the time differences between them memorized whenever Akko was on tour. Still, Akko glanced up at the top of her phone’s screen. “Quarter past two,” she muttered before frowning. “But that’s no excuse! It’s your birthday, I should have stayed awake so I could call you, not the other way around!”

Blue eyes stared pointedly at her through her phone’s display. “Akko, it’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Akko insisted. “It’s your birthday!”

“And I already got your text messages, plus the flowers and cake you had delivered to the Manor. Plus I imagine you have plans once you get back in a few weeks.”

Akko bit her lip. “But...”

Now Diana was frowning. “No buts, love. Look, I can see that you’re still wearing your stage makeup and you were already sitting when you answered the phone. You sat up by your desk so that you could stay awake and call me, right?”

Akko paused only for a moment. “You know me too well.”

Diana chuckled softly. “Akko, dearest, I could never know you too well. Even if we live together for centuries to come, I will always want to know something more about you.”

Was Akko blushing? She was pretty sure she was blushing. “Why are you so romantic?” she whined.

That drew out a grin so bright and beautiful it stole her breath away. “Because I love you.”

Akko squirmed slightly in her seat as she tried to cover up her now brilliantly red face with one hand while holding the phone with her other. She would always be awed at how powerful these feelings she had for Diana were. “I love you, too,” she somehow managed to squeak out even as her blush deepened.

A soft, warm hum. “Now, love, I want you to get ready for bed, you shouldn’t be falling asleep in chairs, you aren’t a teenager anymore.”

Akko huffed at that, but she stood up. “Neither are you,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but I actually take care of my body,” Diana teased. “How much sugar did you eat today?”

“That’s for me to know and you to speculate,” Akko shot back before grinning. “And besides, you and I both know that there’s something I’d much rather be eating than sugary food, but unfortunately there’s an eight hour difference there, ne?”

Now it was Diana’s turn to blush. “Akko!” she spluttered.

“What? You know it’s true!”

“I mean...yes, but...oh, you are incorrigible!” she huffed, though the scowl that lacked any real heat didn’t last long. “How was the show?” she asked after a moment. “I wasn’t able to watch the live stream this time.”

Akko shrugged even as she headed into the bathroom. “Oh, you know, the usual. I think we’re really getting it hammered into something good, there weren’t any hiccups this time!”

And so their call continued as Akko got ready for bed, both of them talking about their days. Before long, Akko was snuggled into bed, covers up to her chin, the room dark save for the light from her phone’s screen from where it was propped up on some of the pillows so that they could see each other.

She hated this part of the call. Hated that she could already feel sleep approaching, no matter how much she wanted to stay up and talk with the woman that she loved with all her heart. It was ironic, wasn’t it? That she resented her dream job that she truly loved if only because it meant being away from Diana, especially on important days like today.

“-and there was this little girl in the crowd, that, oh, you should’ve seen how her face lit up when I exploded onto stage,” she was saying, loving how focused and engaged Diana was on her story. She could tell that she was the absolute most important thing in Diana’s world right now. Perhaps that was why her voice faltered, why she was suddenly wiping away tears as Diana’s face grew very suddenly worried.

“Akko, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

She bit back a sob. “I miss you,” she croaked as she curled up in the bed that was painfully empty. It was Diana’s birthday, and she was halfway round the world, unable to touch, to hold, to kiss the love of her life, and she hated it. “And I couldn’t even stay awake to be the one to call you.”

A long moment of silence as she tried very hard not to give in to the tears. Bad enough that she couldn’t call Diana, now she was screwing up the little time they had together by crying like a baby? Ugh, could she be anymore pathetic?!

“Akko? Akko, listen to me.” Diana’s voice was firm, and Akko forced herself to latch onto it, to focus on it. “It’s really okay. I miss you, too, but you’re doing something important. You’re showing the world that magic isn’t to be feared, and the amount of joy and laughter you’re bringing to your audiences is so incredibly amazing. Honestly, if you weren’t putting in enough energy into your performances that you weren’t utterly exhausted by the end of it, I’d be rather disappointed in you.” She paused as Akko wiped at her streaming eyes. “Akko, honestly, the date of my birthday is just a date. The specific day isn’t important. I imagine you have something spectacular planned when you return, and that is what’s important.” Her head cocked slightly to the side, her expression softening. “What I want for my birthday is for you to have given your all during your performance earlier today. Did you get me what I wanted?”

“Yes,” Akko sniffled.

Diana smiled. “Then we’re good. We got to talk to each other, you had a good show earlier, and we’ll see each other in a few weeks. That’s all that we need, because we love each other. Nothing can change that.” She nodded, almost as though to herself as Akko’s tears finally stopped. “Now, it’s almost three in the morning for you and I know you’ve got a busy day tomorrow. Give my love to your parents, and hopefully my schedule will be a tad more open over the next few days so that we can talk when it isn’t dreadfully early in the morning for you.”

Akko gave Diana a watery smile. “That would be nice.”

Diana brought her hand to her face so that she could kiss her fingertips before she touched them to her phone’s camera, darkening Akko’s screen for a moment. “Have a good night, love. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Mmmkay,” Akko murmured, feeling sleep rush in all the quicker now, following her tears. “Oh, but, Diana?”

“Hmm.”

“Happy Birthday.”

A smile that could have outshone the sun itself. “Thank you, Akko. I love you.”

Akko’s eyes were already closed, her breath coming slower and deeper. “I love you, too.”

Yes, it was a birthday spent apart. But that didn’t mean that their hearts weren’t joined together, even with the great distance between them. After all, Diana was right: They loved each other. That was all that they would ever need.

#Little Witch Academia #diakko #dianakko #diana cavendish #akko kagari #happy birthday diana!!!#a bit more solemn than probably necessary #Akko is sad #time zone difference #might put this on AO3 at some point #but for now tumblr exclusive

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

How to become a Demon Ruler 114

Part: 01 I 02 I 03 I 04 I 05 I 06 I 07 I 09 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I

GN. Reader insert

taglist: @ayesha95 ; @nomnomcupcakesworld ; @fex-phoenix ; @depressed-bixch ; @kitsune-oji ; @witch-o-memes

This is the last part of this story.

I'm open for a 2nd season but I will at the very least take a break.

I hope you will all enjoy this, thank you all for the lovely comments and likes.

___________________

After Lucifer leaves there is a stream of other people who greet me. It's pretty exhausting.

Barbatos hands me water once in a while and I glance sometimes at Diavolo, who looks just like always. It's pretty impressive.

Then finally we are done greeting everyone. I'm so glad it's over.

I feel a bit stiff when I stand up to walk to our table. It's right on top of all the other tables, a bit like at a wedding reception.

Everyone's eyes seem to be glued to my every move. I stay calm and just tell myself to breathe and smile.

Diavolo sits down right next to me, Barbatos stands behind us.

Someone then announces that the meal will now be served.

It's a meal with many courses, all consist of very tiny amounts of food that are nicely arranged.

All my training has really paid off and I think I'm doing pretty well.

My last official duty is dancing with Diavolo.

It's not easy doing that after eating this much, but I still look forward to it.

Diavolo gives me his very bright and yet strangely calming smile. He looks so happy and proud.

I can't help but smile at him.

With him, I don't even notice the countless eyes on me.

He leads me to the dance floor. Much like in our training session, the song is very slow.

I'm strangely calm, I don't even step on his foot.

After a round of applause, the dance floor is opened for everyone.

I try to step aside since many high-ranking demons want to dance with Diavolo.

I'm sure I see Barbatos shooting angry glances towards a lower-ranking demon that approaches me for a dance. The demon pretty much flees after that.

Then suddenly everyone goes silent.

The demon king has just arrived. I can hear the murmurs from everyone around me.

Everyone goes back and bows deeply. Their fear and respect are obvious.

The king doesn't acknowledge anyone and straight-up walks up to me. He even blatantly ignores Diavolo, who stands a bit away from me.

Then he stops and starts speaking with his booming voice. "My dear child. Such a pleasure to see you." He addresses me so kindly it gives me whiplash.

"The pleasure is fully mine." I smile nervously and bow.

"I wish to talk to you in private." He just says that and starts walking off.

I look at Diavolo and then at Barbatos. They both seem equally surprised.

"You should do as he says," Barbatos whispers in my direction. I nod and follow the king.

"Father, can I join too?" Diavolo speaks to his father.

"Not this time. It's a private conversation." The King refuses him coldly.

Diavolo sighs. I'm grateful he tried and mouth a "thank you" to him.

The king leads me to a private room.

He sits down and I follow his lead. The atmosphere feels very stiff. I dread what he could do to me.

"First of all, I want to ask how you feel about your time in the devildom so far." His tone isn't harsh anymore.

I still feel intimidated by him.

"I enjoy it a lot here." I'm hesitant but honest.

He nods. "I'm glad then. Diavolo has scolded me for doing what I did and I realized that it was probably inconvenient for you."

I had no idea that Diavolo was standing up for me. It's very sweet. "It was certainly an experience but thanks to Diavolo and Barbatos' I have a lot of fun." I can't thank them enough if I'm honest.

"You are certainly one that adapts to whatever the devildom will throw at you. Despite that, I want to offer you to return to the human world. Diavolo said that it's the right thing to do." He seems to carefully choose his words.

I'm surprised to hear that. I didn't know that Diavolo was doing all of this for me. It wasn't easy for him for sure.

I take a moment to think about my old life in the human realm. How lonely I was, how empty everything felt. I was longing for something else. Some kind of connection.

"I wish to stay," I state clearly, without a single doubt.

The king nods. "I knew you would say that. I have indeed chosen well. I look forward to seeing you on my throne one day."

"I can't say that I'm very interested in the throne, but thank you." I try to say this politely.

"We will see. Regardless, I expect great things from you." He seems pretty pleased with himself.

"I'm wondering if there was any particular reason why you have chosen me?" This might be the only time I can ask him.

"Of course. I had a vision of you sitting on my throne." He says this so matter of fact that I can only stare at him in disbelief.

Now I can clearly see he is indeed related to Diavolo. Why was I ever scared of this man?

The king gives me a small chuckle. "I look forward to seeing you grow even more in the future. I'm sure you will exceed even my expectations."

Without letting me say anything else the king stands up and leaves.

He is truly an enigma.

I somehow feel relieved but also exhausted.

Before going back inside I decide to step outside just for a little bit. I feel the need to take a deep breath.

I find myself in the garden. It's dimly lit but I still can admire the stars. It's very beautiful, even though it's much different from the sky that I'm used to.

"Are you alright?" I hear Diavolos gentle voice and turn to him.

"Yeah, just taking a breath." I smile at him.

Diavolo nods and steps next to me.

"Did you decide to stay or to leave?" This question seems to burn him up. He doesn't even fully look at me.

"I will stay, of course, but thank you for allowing me to decide." As easy as my choice was, I'm happy that I had it this time.

Diavolo breathes out from relief. He finally faces me. "You know that you are stuck here for good now, right?" He seems to ask me if I'm sure of my choice.

"Before I came here I was all alone. I didn't miss anything at the time but ever since I came here I just felt more and more like a part of something good. I guess I was pretty lost in the human world but now I feel at home." I smile at Diavolo, hoping he will understand me.

He smiles gently at me."It's funny that I never even realized that I missed anything before you just showed up. Now I can't even imagine my life without you." He looks deeply into my eyes. My cheeks heat up. "Now where you stay I have something that I wish you to do. You see, my wish is for all the realms to become more friendly so I decided to make an exchange program. Students from all of the realms will soon arrive to study here. I want you to be a part of these students."

"Wait, you want me to become a student? Am I the right person for that?" I'm very surprised by his words.

"There is no better person than you. I can't even picture anyone else if I'm being honest. You already get along so well with the demon brothers and I just know everyone will love you." Diavolo smiles at me in his usual bright and shining way. He has made his mind up.

"I'm flattered but it's a big responsibility and does that mean the seven demon brothers are students too?" I still find it hard to wrap my head around it.

"There is no pressure. I want you to be a regular student. I understand that it's a big deal but I want you to love the devildom even more." Diavolo is so convinced by his idea that it's infectious.

"It's going to be a lot of work and studying right? I will have to suffer from Barbatos giving me lessons and from demons that want to eat me. The brothers will be a constant source of trouble." I smile and shake my head. "But there is nothing that I'd rather do." I end up agreeing to this frankly ridiculous idea. There is nothing better than this to support Diavolo and his dream.

Diavolo places a hand on mine. "Thank you so much for this. I won't be able to pay you back for this."

My cheeks are getting even hotter. "It's not a big deal. I'd do anything for you." I admit this, feeling a bit shy. I feel his hand holding mine tightly.

Diavolo smiles. "I feel the same way about you." Then he takes my other hand.

"There is one more thing I'd like to ask of you. As you demons can make pacts with humans and I wish to form a pact with you. This will put us as truly equal. So would you want to do this for me?" His words come with such ease and they are so tender. His gentle words almost make me cry.

I have no context for it but it feels so important. "I would be very happy to have a pact with you Diavolo." My voice is shaking with unknown emotions. I'm nearly overwhelmed by happiness.

Diavolo smiles so softly at me. I have never seen this smile on him before. "I'm truly glad that you are part of my life now."

Then something starts to happen, a feeling starts to overcome me. It's warm and powerful. I feel like my whole body is flooded by Diavolos aura. It's comforting.

I can feel that a part of myself is flowing into Diavolo.

Somehow I feel comfortable and fully at ease with myself. Somewhere on my body, I feel a warm circle forming, the proof of our pact.

Diavolo then lets go of my hands and the sensation is fully gone.

"Wow, that felt amazing." It truly was a great experience.

"It was truly amazing. I have never had a pact with a human before or with anyone for that matter." Diavolo says this so calmly that it's surprising.

"Am I really the right person?" This is a big surprise to me.

"Yes, first and possibly last. You should try to control me." Diavolo smiles calmly at me.

I'm still baffled by this revelation. "How do I do that?"

Diavolo shrugs. "I should have asked the demon brothers about this. We will figure it out but now I feel much more at ease."

"You are right, we are in it together after all." I smile at him.

He nods and then takes my hand once again. "Let's head inside before Barbatos searches for us."

______

I just noticed that the MC has never seen Diavolo in his demon form. They are in for a surprise for sure.

If I write demon ruler 201, I need to add that somewhere.

Also, take this as revenge for not giving me Diavolo as my pact demon *yet*.

In demon ruler 201 there will definitely be a pact with Barbatos too.

#obey me #how to become a demon ruler #omswd #obey me!#obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #demon ruler 101

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neverendingdream111 · 4 years

Text

“Ray of hope” [Bennett x gn!reader]

> sigh

> Another day, another comission, another adventure

> Another empty chest

> Bennett looked up at the sky which slowly started to darken as clouds became heavier, implying that it would rain soon

> He sighed, holding his injured arm with his other hand, trying not to stumble on some stone or root

> The city was still quite far away from his current location, which meant that he probably wouldn’t be able to make it before the start of the storm

> He should’ve been used to it by now, to be honest, judging how often these scenarios took place

> But sometimes, it was too much, even for him

> Besides, how long can someone stay optimistic while being the most unlucky person in all of Mondstadt?

> Still, he continued walking, his head up and eyes determined

> “It’s just a little rain! It won’t be that bad!” he kept reminding himself

> Just then the first thunder came and the rain started falling

> He jumped a little, shocked by the sound, getting soaked to the bone mere seconds after it began

> The boy looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide, but to no avail

> He was coming back from a comission in Cape Oath. He was still wondering how in the world he managed to get out of Dadaupa Gorge with only a small scratch on his knee - now, he was nearby in the area

> He should’ve been in the city by now, but while going back he found some ruins and, being the curious adventurer that he is, he decided to investigate them, which only resulted in more injuries and no treasure, whatsoever

> But back to the issue at hand - he wouldn’t be able to find a shelter mainly because staying under the trees in the storm wasn’t safe, and the only other place where he could hide were these strange cottage-like-buildings that hilichurls inhabited; and those were a definite no-no

> So, he started running, praying to the Archons that nothing too bad would happen to him

> Barbatos wasn’t in a mood to answer prayers today, it seemed

> He somehow managed to stumble across a bunch of cryo and anemo slimes, barerly escaping them, and also fell several times in the mud

> Bennett was exhausted, injured, hungry and utterly soaked and dirty

> He didn’t even know where he was going now. While running away from the slimes he might’ve strayed from the path, which resulted in him getting lost

> Great

> His lungs were burning from the constant running, the strong wind and rain making him shiver from the cold

> It wasn’t the first, and most likely not the last time he was in a situation like this

> But...

> It was too much

> He just wanted to go on an adventure, find some treasures

> He wanted to make his dads happy, so they’d be proud of him

> “I want to go home...”

> Whether the water on his face was the rain or his tears, he didn’t know

> The only thing that was on his mind was how much he wished he was in the safety of his home, under a warm blanket with a cup of hot chocolate in hand

> But he had to get to the city, he had to find a way, or else...

> The last thing he saw before passing out was a person running in his direction

> He slowly began waking up, blinking a few times to clear his vision

> What greatly surprised him was that he was greeted by the sight of a ceiling, not the cloudy sky that he expected

> He quickly sat up on the bed (another surprise), looking around the room. He didn’t recognize it in the slightest, which caused his panic to increase

> Just when he was about to burst out of the room, someone opened the door and came in

> “Oh, you’re awake! I’m glad” they said, heaving a sigh of relief. They were holding a plate in one hand and a cup in the other “How are you feeling?”

> Bennett blinked, seemingly still not quite awake yet, or just not sure if he this was real

> “Um... Who are you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side

> “Oh! Right, I haven’t introduced myself yet” they placed the things they were holding on a bedside table, then taking a sit in a chair next to the bed “My name is (Y/N), and I believe you are Bennett, right?” they said, offering a kind smile

> “How do you know that?” he furrowed his brows, getting a bit suspicous

> “I’ve heard about you in Mondstadt: “the only adventurer in the guild that works by himself because of his bad luck”. I figured it was you when I saw you during that storm” they explained, giving him an encouraging nod to take the cup, which turned out to be a tea. He slowly took a sip, but still burnt his tongue in the end “Careful there!”

>”Sorry” he laughed sheepishly “It’s nice to meet you, I guess? I- I mean, it’s kind of a strange first meeting, don’t you think?”

> “I suppose” they shrugged, chuckling under their breath “Eat up, so you can regain your strength” he then looked at the plate and saw delicous-looking sandwiches, which only reminded him of his hunger

> “Woah, thank you!” he dug in almost immediately, nearly choking, but he quickly recovered and continued eating. It was only a few minutes later that he finished everything, thanking them for the meal again

> “It’s not a problem, really! Everyone would’ve done the same”

> “Yeah, but still, I owe you! Let me treat you to a meal at Good Hunter when you have time” the boy grinned “Wait, that reminds me... How did you find me? And where are we?”

> “I found you when I was coming back from some job that I had to do at Windrise. We’re now in my house near Springvale, you were unconscious and the storm was too big to take you to the cathedral in the city, so instead I took you here and patched you up” they explained, and that was when he realised that he was wearing a clean shirt and his arms were covered in bandages. He assumed his legs were in a similar state, too

> “Y-you didn’t have to! Really, I- I would’ve managed somehow...” he laughed nervously “I don’t want to be a burden...”

> “You’re not” they said almost instantly, a concerned look adorning their face “Why would you ever think that? I helped you because I wanted to”

> “It’s just...” this heavy sensation was again felt in his chest, and he started playing with his fingers in his lap, his eyes cast down “I’m really unlucky, accidents happen almost all the time when I’m near. That’s why no one on my team stays for long...” he suddenly realized he was rambling, so he looked up at them with an awkward smile on his face which looked more like a grimace and said “But don’t worry! It’s not really that bad. I’m used to it, and I understand why they left, so--”

> “Bennett?” (Y/N)’s soft voice interrupted him. At first he didn’t realize it, but when he touched his face he felt his fingers get wet with the tears that unknownigly spilled from his eyes

> “O-oh, sorry, I just...” he tried wiping them away, but the tears just wouldn’t stop coming. He angrily rubbed his eyes, but still, nothing worked “W-why am I crying?”

> “Sometimes, the emotions we bottle up explode, and we can’t control it” they said, tentatively taking his hand in theirs “We should just let them come out, so cry if you must; I don’t mind as long as it helps you feel better” they smiled gently at him, and he coulnd’t control it any longer. His sniffs turned into full blown sobs and his whole body shook because of it. At some point (Y/N) took a sit on the bed and hugged him, softly patting his back and letting him cry on their shoulder

> Many minutes later, his sobs subsided, reduced to small sniffs here and there. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like his unluckiness was weighing down on his shoulders, finally lifted

> He felt like he wasn’t alone

> And I tell you, it was one of the best feelings in the world

> Relucantly, he let go of their shirt that he clutched in his fist at some point during his breakdown, and looked up at them “Thank you and... sorry for this”

> They only smiled in response “No worries, I think you really needed that, so you don’t have to apologize! And I have a question”

> “Go on”

> “You work at adventurers’ guild, right? What’s the name of your party?”

> “It’s “Benny’s adventure team”!” he laughed, his eyes sparkling “Why do you ask?”

> “I’ve recently been thinking about joining the guild, since the jobs around here can get quite boring at times, but I didn’t know anyone from there. Well, until now” they smiled “So I was wondering, would you let me join your team?”

> Bennett’s eyes grew wide, and for the first time, he was speechless “W-wait, you want to join my team? Why???”

> “I think you’re nice, and I’d want to get to know you better” said (Y/N) without any hesitance, grinning at him “So? What do you say?”

> He looked at his lap, getting all sad again “But... With my luck, you’d probably be in danger as often as I am, and--”

> “Who cares about that?” his head shot up so quickly he thought he’d get a whiplash. Did he hear correctly?

> “W-wait, for real?”

> “Of course. I wouldn’t have asked if I did mind now, would I? And if we work together, it’d be easier, too” they explained “we could help each other out if something bad happened, and it’d be fun to explore the world together!”

> He blinked

> Then pinched his arm and blinked again

> His grin was so big his cheeks hurt

> “You can’t take it back if you decide that my bad luck is terrible while on comissions!”

> “It’d take much more to get rid of me”

> Heh

> Guess that day wasn’t so bad

> After all, he got a new friend

> And hopefully, one that will not leave

No, I didn’t cry while I was writing this. Totally...

21.02.21

~Nana

#bennett x reader #bennett #genshin impact #scenario #genshin x reader

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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

Text

My Boys

Chapter 14

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warnings: Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So Hi again everyone! one more chapter to go then we're on the first Avenger, I just wanna say thank you to each and everyone of you all for taking the time to sit down and read this, it means the absolute world to me! Anyways I'll shut up, enjoy chapter 14 everyone <3

Now don’t ask me how they did it, but somehow my idiots managed to open my front door without a key, if I wasn’t so pissed at them for getting into a fight for the 5th night in a row, I’d be tearing them a new one for that alone. Completely and uttered annoyed with the pair of em, I may of opened my door with a bit more force than necessary and twatted the back of it on the coat rack, not my best moment but at least nothing broke. I was fully prepared to lose my shit with both of em, but one look of them both sat at the table, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts made all my anger disappear, I can’t be mad at them when they both look absolutely exhausted.

Wordlessly I crossed the landing into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and spare clothes I kept for the boys, setting em down on the dresser just outside my room before heading off to change into my satin pyjamas. It’s times like this that make me so frustrated with them both, I know why they do what they do, they’re trying to make the world a better place in their own way, but I just wished that they wouldn’t do it in a way that put them in danger. Coming back out into the kitchen was almost like walking into a morgue, neither of them said a thing to each other whilst I was gone, the looks their faces absolutely shattered my small, minuscule heart to pieces.

It was pretty easy to see from the slumped shoulders and the way they both avoided eye contact that they were ashamed of what happened tonight, and that made me feel like the biggest piece of shit ever, I trusted these boys with my life, and I know that they would never start a fight if they didn’t have a reason for it. Hell, I didn’t care about the reason why anymore. Without saying a word to them, I went over to the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, I knew that one of em would have got the rags out already, more than likely Buck cause Steve’s short ass can’t reach the cabinet…I’m joking I love him really, but he’s soooo fucking short it’s unreal..

I’d barely had time to put the bowl on the table before Steve started to speak.

“We’re sorry Y/n…Those guys were erm..saying some pretty messed up things about you and I couldn’t help it, I saw red and lost my temper. Be angry with me, not a Buck he was just lookin’ out for me”.

The sigh that left my body couldn’t be helped, as much as I love Steve he couldn’t lie to save his life, though normally I wouldn’t put it past him to start a fight over me, the way Buck reacted made it pretty clear that the hot-headed love of my life started this one, the sharp look he gave for Steve was about as subtle as a sneeze in a silent library. The sudden ache that settled over my chest wasn’t foreign to me one bit, it happened every time I looked at Bucky, as much as I wanted to tell him how I felt I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea, he loves me like a sister and I should be happy with that, I’d rather have that than nothing at all…

“Steve…it’s not that, it’s the fact that you guys would start a fight over something so silly, I love you both to the moon and back, but I don’t care about what people say about me, I’m upset that you put yourselves in danger over me. I’m not worth the trouble it would cause and after the shit I’ve done, it’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

Bucky was silent the whole time, at times he looked like he wanted to disagree but a look from Steve shut it down, we all fell into a comfortable silence after that, which for the 3 of us is pretty fucking weird considering Steve and I are normally annoying the hell outta Bucky, what can I say me, and Steve have amazing singing voices. I stole a quick look at the pair of them, considering they both looked like shit it was actually a very difficult choice about which idiot I should clean up first, then I remembered that Steve has the immune system of an asthmatic grandma, so I dunked his cut-up hands in the warm water a little bit harder than I meant to, but I’d be lying if I said the squeal he let out wasn’t funny.

It really didn’t take me long to get him cleaned up at all, then again I do this like 8 times a week with the moron, you’d think after about 10 split lips the kid would learn his lesson, but apparently not cause he’ll be back at it in the morning. I need to start charging him for medical supplies, I’m practically a hospital at this point. As Steve stood up to leave, he paused and looked towards me with his sad puppy eyes, and I’m no monster so of course I gave him a hug, thank god he’s not as short as when were kids or his face would be right in my chest region, I don’t think an accidental motorboat is on his list of top 10 things to do. With one final look from Buck, Stevie boy took his clothes and went into the spare room, leaving us both to talk which could take a while cause we’re both stubborn asses. Que the awkward silence….

“I am sorry Doll…I just couldn’t stand back and hear those assholes talk about you like that. I love ya too much for that…”

Okay ouch, the sister zoning wasn’t necessary Barnaby.

I knew in my heart I meant every single word he said, Bucky was never the one to start the fights unless it was over his family and I understand that I do, if I were in the same position I’d do the sae for them. The dejected sigh that left me wasn’t missed by him, I chose to ignore his reaction to it and moved closer to him, the cuts on his hands were a little deeper than Steve’s, not that it stopped me from slamming his hands into the hot water as a tiny bit of revenge. Because I’m such a nice person, I chose to ignore the hiss of pain and glare directed at me from my good ol’ Bucky boy, plus I was focusing on cleaning his cuts.

“Buck…I don’t need you to say sorry, I understand why you did it, I just hate that you can be so careless about your own safety, what if you get into a fight whilst I’m working, and something happens? I’d never be able to forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, I love you and Steve so so much, but it hurts me to see you do this to yourselves….”.

The time we spent sat together was lost to me, Bucky didn’t say anything after that and left me to clean his hands whilst he got lost in his thoughts, not that I minded. It’s the times like these that help me realise just how much pressure he puts on himself, it’s like he has to be the one to hold up the weight of the world, but he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have to do it by himself and it breaks my heart. But I wished that he didn’t tilt his head down when he’s feeling sombre and sad because I can’t see his fucking face, it kinda makes cleaning his cuts a bit hard ya know ? Reluctantly I stood up and went back to the sink, the rag I used to clean his hands was beyond filthy at this point and I don’t really fancy wiping ouch juice all over his face, by the time I’d turned back around Buck had his head in his hands.

You know it’s bad when he’s like this, Buck never lets anyone see just how much stress he’s under, the only other person that’s ever seen him in this state is Steve, I moved back over to him and placed the rag back down on the table, my main focus now being cheering up my Bucky. As it turns I didn’t have to do much, once he saw my shadow in front of him, his head lifted automatically as his eyes searched mine, the level of exhaustion in his eyes was almost enough to make me cry, I couldn’t help the hand that reached out to cup his cheek, nor the other hand that began to run through his hair. It was almost like I put him under a spell, Buck’s eyes closed in relief as his head fell forward to rest on my upper stomach, at some point his looped his arms around my waist to pull me closer to him, I couldn’t help but pepper the top of his head in small kisses to try and cheer him up.

This is the part of him I love the most, the moments where he isn’t afraid to let his guard down and for once let someone help him, to take the burden off his shoulders and relax for a while, even if he doesn’t love me the way I love him, I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He has and always will be my home….nothing can or will change that.

And that's Number 14 done and dusted, let me know what you all think, thank you for reading!

All My Love,

Rose xxx

@purelydarling

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america #captain america x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #reader #fanfic #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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literaryfic · 3 years

Link

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending 

Summary: “She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why?”

Chapter two is out! Read on ao3 or under the cut.

“Have you been well, Cha-young?”, the same deep voice she’d missed asks. The ghost that’s been haunting her came back in the flesh.

He hasn’t aged at all, his youthful face still handsome as ever. He’s not smiling per se, but she can tell he’s happy to see her. She gets up and walks away. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

He catches up to her after a few seconds.

“Cha-young-ah. Hong Cha-young. Talk to me.”, he urges her. Suddenly, she can’t control her anger anymore.

“Talk to you?”, she faces him. “You made it extremely clear five years ago that we had nothing to say to each other.”, she screams. His face is unreadable, years apart have made him a stranger. “And now what? You want me to talk to you? You disappeared on me out of nowhere and never looked back so don’t you dare ask anything of me, got it?”

Panting, the anger she thought gone felt just as hot as the day he left her.

“Fuck!”. She’s not done yet. How could he come back like nothing ever happened? He had given her shelter, just to make her homeless. He had made her believe in love and happy endings, built her a castle and set it on fire. She hated him, his stupid hair and his stupid face. “Why are you doing this to me now? I don’t get it. Why now?” She starts crying out of anger, out of frustration, out of exhaustion.

For years now Cha-young had spent all her energy trying to forget Vincenzo and what they could have been. She had fooled herself into thinking she was over him but even after all this time, even when she was this angry at him, all she wanted to do was to touch him. She felt like she’d been cursed by the Gods, condemned to have him in her sight, yet forever out of reach.

She’s shaking now, sobbing. Vincenzo slowly approaches her, his eyes full of anguish.

“Can I please hold you?”, he almost begs as a single tear runs down his cheek. She doesn’t remember a time where he’d sounded this desperate, and she nods, almost against her will.

He wraps his arms around her, her head falls on his chest. She takes a deep breath, filling her nose and lungs with his scent, the one she hasn’t been able to forget. Somehow, she’s crying even harder now and he starts stroking her hair. “I’m sorry,”, he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She can’t quite convince herself yet that this is not a dream, so she holds him tight, afraid that the ocean will swallow him and turn him into foam.

They stay in each other’s embrace for a while. It could be minutes or hours, Cha-young doesn’t really know. It seems that tonight, on this beach, her grasp on her reality is loosening. Dreams and ghosts come to her in waves, and she can’t help but wonder when the tide will recede.

In the beginning, she dreamt that he would stay with her. Cha-young thought herself strong enough to anchor Vincenzo, yet he had fled and renounced her. Then, she had dreamed of his return, punished to share the fate of a seamen’s wife awaiting her husband’s homecoming.

He had chosen to leave and, until now, had never bothered to come back, and so after a while she had declared him lost at sea. She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why? The ghost stayed mum, mere fragment of a person who had once been alive.

Yet, here he was, the one she had lost at sea, standing in front her. There was no doubt that it was him, alive and well. She felt herself regain control over her emotions and stepped out of his arms.

“You owe me an explanation”, she demands, looking him in the eyes. He nods slowly, his face serious. He is about to speak when she cuts him off, “Not here.” Here, where dreams become reality and prayers were heard. “Take me to your room”.

And so he does. They walk back to the hotel in complete silence, the sea breeze clearing up her foggy mind. They go up to the very last floor and Cha-young almost laughs. Their rooms are exactly a floor apart.

When they get inside, Vincenzo invites her to sit on the couch while he settles for a nearby armchair. The suite is as big as an apartment and the view of the ocean is stunning. It suddenly dawns on Cha-young that he’d probably been living in luxury for the past 5 years, and why wouldn’t he when he was that rich, but the thought annoys her. As petty as it sounds, she had wanted him to be miserable, just as she had been.

“Why?”

The question that had been haunting her hangs in the air for a while, and at one point she thinks he might leave it unanswered.

“That time I ended up staying, I’d managed to take care of the situation in Italy, but it was temporary solution. I needed to come back to save our family from being killed off.” He explained, choosing each word carefully. She could tell he was nervous, his eyes scanning her face, looking for cues.

“That explains why you had to leave, but that’s not what I was asking, Joo-hyung-ah.”

He looks like she’d just slapped him across the face, and she might as well have. She had never called his Korean name in such a harsh tone before. No, this name had been reserved for their most intimate moments, when she made love to him and played with his hair afterwards, as he fell asleep in her arms, when he told her about the few memories he had with his mother, or described his life in Italy with his adoptive parents. It was the first she had used his name as a weapon, and he looked devastated. Good.

He takes a shaky breath and bites his lip, trying to hold back his tears. In that moment, he looks as old as the world and as weak as a child. Although it pains her to look at him like this, she shows no compassion. This man had destroyed her and she would hold him accountable.

“I left without telling you because I didn’t trust myself to go through with it.”, he finally manages to say after a while. “I had to leave but I just couldn’t bring myself to let you go.”

“You’re a coward, Mr. Cassano.”, she spits out his name, hoping the formality of it would hurt him too.

“I know.”

“Why did you have to leave me? I get that you needed to go back, but why did you have to leave me too?” Cha-young tries to stay as calm as possible, but it proves difficult when she keeps blurting out her most vulnerable thoughts. She feels defenceless against him, but it is the only way she’ll get the answers she needs.

“Turns out the situation was even worse than what Luca had told me, and I wasn’t sure any of us would get out of it alive. You didn’t deserve to have to wait for me indefinitely.”

“So dropping me out of the blue was the best solution you came up with? That’s the only thing the great Vincenzo Cassano, one of the best masterminds in the game, could think of?” Her words are met by silence. “Guess what, genius? I still waited years for you. How was I supposed to get closure when you just disappeared? Wouldn’t you, out of all people, know what it feels like to be abandoned?”

It was a low blow, she had to admit, but she was past that. She needed to bring him to his knees, she needed to shatter him, she needed to break his heart.

“The truth is, I thought—I thought I was freeing you. From me, from my sins.” He’s not looking at her anymore, head hanging down, tears falling onto the ground. She compels her heart to look away, just this once, to not care for him.

“And who do you think you are? Do I not get to decide for myself?”, she’s almost screaming again. Everything that was coming out of his mouth sounded ridiculous to her.

Of course, she had imagined this confrontation countless of times, coming up with all the possible reasons he would use to justify what he did, but none of them mattered. None of them were enough to appease her, to undo what had been done. Nothing would ever repair what he’d broken and they’d never be the same again.

“I have no excuse, tesoro.” She hears the plea in his voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He looks at her, visibly in pain.

It was bizarre, seeing him like that, so hesitant, so vulnerable, so scared.

She realises it at once; she’s witnessing his fear for the first time. She hadn’t been able to spot it at first but there it was. He’d allowed her to see his anger, his sadness, his unfiltered joy but he’d never been afraid in front of her. Vincenzo was scared to mess this up, scared to loose her again. She had to hold back a smile.

“Did you follow me here? Don’t lie to me.” She demands, reinvigorated by her newly found confidence.

“I’d never lie to you.” She rolls her eyes at that. “I landed in Seoul two days ago, but Mr. Nam told me you’d be spending the next few weeks here, so I hopped on the first flight I found. Meeting you here, tonight, was an accident. I didn’t know which hotel you were staying in.” He looks to his right, suitcase opened on the floor, near the bedroom’s entrance.

“Why are you here, Vincenzo?”, she’s trying not to let her emotions seep through her words, to remain distant. But he knows her well, and she can tell by the way his eyes suddenly look at hers that he hears it, the part of her that wants him to answer “For you, I’m here for you.”.

“To repent. I’m here to repent, Cha-young-ah.”. His words carry the same certainty they once did, his tone the one of a fearless man. Her heart threatens to leap out of her chest.

“Do I look like a fucking church to you?”, she forces out a laugh she hopes sounds bitter. Not letting him time to reply, she gets up from the couch, feeling dizzy. “Right, I’ve heard enough. Goodbye.”

She can’t tell if he calls her name or goes after her but she’s out the door before she knows it. She runs down the stairs, gets into her room and heads straight in the shower. The water’s freezing cold, but she finds comfort in not being able to feel the tears streaming down her face.

She tucks herself into bed, confused about whether she’d rather wake up from this nightmare or continue to live this dream.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #vincenzo fic #my fic #chayenzo fic

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Note

all those sleep prompts are so killer and such big jon vibes!!! i would love to read anything on "- a character who refuses to share a sleeping space with anyone else, and it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb others/doesn’t want pity/is ashamed of his nightmares" with jon. bonus points if tim is involved and extra bonus points if tim also has experience with insomnia/nightmares, either himself or used to taking care of someone in his life with those issues...

Hey there! Here I am, finally writing the promised Jon/Tim that I should have written ages ago. Feels good to be on this train! I’ve placed this in pre-canon, when Jon and Tim are researchers and have just started dating. Hope you like!

“That was...really nice, Tim. Thank you.”

“Thank you? Jon, we split the check,” Tim throws an arm around his shoulder and it’s heavy and warm in all the right ways. “You know my policy on that. The person who asks you out pays the bill! Ergo, me.”

“I know, I know,” Jon relents under the pressure and burrows into Tim’s side. The wine’s gone to his head, he’s sure of it. Shouldn’t have had those three glasses. But the waiter was so attentive and Tim’s smile was infectious so he couldn’t help but say yes, of course, thank you, to every pour. “I just...I really enjoyed myself, is all.”

“I did too,” Tim’s voice goes to that soft, fond register he’s only just started using with Jon. Before it had been all gregarious charm, winks and nudges that he used interchangeably with friends and acquaintances alike. When Tim first asked him out, Jon thought he was joking; he rolled his eyes and went back to work, ignoring Tim’s look of hurt. Jon was used to practical jokes of this nature- he’s not exactly an attractive prospective partner, and several people have implied he was more trouble than he was worth. But a week later, on their usual coffee run, Tim offered to buy him dinner, his voice serious and shy and utterly unlike him. The look in his eyes was genuine and Jon had to say yes; who could refuse him, in the face of such sincerity?

It’s been a month and they’ve fallen into a sort of routine. Every week is a new spot- Tim’s a bit of a foodie, and he overheard him making a list of places with Sasha. It took up an entire page in his notebook, and Jon wonders if Tim will get sick of him before they finish it.

He stumbles on the sidewalk and Tim catches him with a steady hand on his waist. The cold air should be bracing but it is not; his dizziness increases two times over and it’s a long journey home. Tim knows this, which must lead to his next suggestion.

“You can spend the night at mine,” he says, voice purposefully light. Jon freezes. They hadn’t broached the topic yet, but he thinks Tim has some sort of idea. Rumors abound in research, after all. Tim must notice his nervousness because he stops walking, turning to face Jon with that same unbearable sincerity.

“Nothing untoward, I promise,” Tim says, and Jon believes him. Tim hasn’t lied to him yet. “I just don’t feel comfortable putting you on the tube, and you’re a long way from home while I’m right around the corner.” Jon still doesn’t respond, so Tim continues. “No pressure, honestly. I could call you a cab, it’s not a big deal-”

“No, that’s-that’s too expensive.” Living in London is hard enough, especially on a researcher’s salary. But to spend the night at Tim’s, as innocent as it may be, fills him with dread. There’s a reason he lives alone. There’s a reason it took him almost a year before he stayed the night at Georgie’s.

Sleep has never been kind to him.

Jon has nightmares. Terrible, horrifying visions of make-believe that leave him screaming and crying and choking on his breath. Georgie had been about ready to call an ambulance the first time she witnessed it, but Jon was able to talk her down.

“These happen every night?” she’d asked, her face a mix of pity and concern.

“Not every night,” he insisted. It was true. If he stayed up late, working himself to exhaustion, he could usually manage a dreamless sleep of at least five hours. But that came with its own difficulties; crankiness, irritability. It put a strain on most of his relationships.

Tim, though- Tim is kind and understanding. Beneath the mask of sociability and flirtation lies a serious, determined person. Compassionate, loving, but in a quiet way and with small gestures. He makes lists. He puts in time. He asks Jon what he wants when they go out to eat and he doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes when Jon carries on for too long.

“We can go to your place,” he whispers. “I-I think I’d like that.” Tim smiles and hooks an arm through his and Jon knows he’s made the right decision. Maybe tonight will be different. Maybe the wine will dull the terror that rules most of his life. The night is dark and Jon’s flat is cold and lonely.

Tim’s flat, on the other hand, is warm and cozy. It’s neat and organized, but cluttered enough to give it personality and charm. There’s a couch calling his name and he answers it, practically collapsing in the cushions as Tim lets out a little laugh.

“No going to sleep yet,” he instructs and Jon can’t help but let out a groan. The warmth and safety of the spot and the closeness of Tim has suddenly made him comfortably tired, and he’d like to slip off to sleep in this pleasant haze. “Not until you’ve had some food and water. I’ve even got those crusty little granola bars you like so much.”

“They’re not crusty,” he grumbles, his voice stifled by a pillow. But he’s not in a fighting mood and his mind’s currently swimming with the fact that Tim stocked his favorite snack.

“Very crusty, indeed,” Tim’s nudging him up into a sitting position and forcing water into his hands. “Drink up!”

“You’re very irritating, I hope you know,” Jon says as he leans his head onto Tim’s shoulder. Tim makes for a comfortable pillow.

“Aw, you love it.”

Maybe he does.

By the time he’s choked down the last of the bar, his eyes are fluttering and he can’t keep in his yawns. Tim puts a warm hand on his arm and it burns pleasantly as he pulls him up. “Time for bed, I think.”

The words startle Jon out of his haze and he blinks his eyes open, focusing on Tim’s gentle smile. “Er, I think-” he doesn’t want to disappoint the man, but he would rather be as cautious as possible. “I think it would be best if I slept out here.”

“On the couch?” Tim asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Oh- would you rather sleep alone?” Tim doesn’t seem too miffed about it, just confused, so Jon answers as honestly as he can.

“Yes.” He doesn’t want to, not really. But he needs to.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily enough. “But you should take the bed, then. The sofa’s comfy but I know you have a bad back-”

“It’s fine for one night,” Jon responds. Forcing Tim to sleep on the sofa in his own flat seems terribly selfish.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am,” Jon assures, trying to convey his affection in a gentle smile. Tim returns it.

“I’ll just get you some sheets, then. Change of clothes, too.”

By the time Jon’s head hits the pillow, comfortably attired in Tim’s old joggers and t-shirt, he’s already half asleep. He thinks Tim’s already left the room but then he feels the warm pressure of a kiss to his forehead.

Perhaps he dreamed that, though.

__________

There’s a thread and it’s pulling Jon forward.

It’s not comfortable. Jon would rather stay here, in the library, surrounded by books and dim lights and knowledge he has control over. But there are whispers in the hallway, and someone’s telling him to go, go, go.

And go he does. Down stairs, so many stairs, more stairs than the institute ought to have. There is something watching and something pulling; Jon is being split in two and somehow this is worse than actually seeing the spiders and the eyes that have haunted him all these years. This, he feels in his soul. Something is at stake.

There’s a door. This is how it always ends, you see- with a door. And Jon’s fist, small and childish and grubby, raises to knock against the wood. It echoes too many times as Jon tries to step back, get off this porch and out of this nightmare but it is too late, the deed is done and the door is opening and a single, spindly black leg creeps out of the door hello, Mr. Spider-

“Jon!”

There are limbs holding him but it’s not the many-legged creature of his nightmares- they’re familiar and strong even as he thrashes against them but someone is screaming and the sound is haunting and painful-

And it’s him. Jon wrenches his eyes open to find himself safe and sound, held in place by Tim’s arms. His heart continues to stutter and he wheezes- Tim’s got a hand on his back and a soothing murmur going.

“You’ve got to breathe, Jon. Slow.” Tim takes his shaking hand and puts it to his own chest. “Like this. In and out. There you go. Nice and slow.” The words are calm and practiced; Tim’s done this before, with someone else. As his heartbeat resumes a normal rhythm, he wonders who.

There’s a hand on Jon’s face, gently wiping away tears he wasn’t aware he shed. Tim’s eyes are far-away, sort of, like he’s just going through the motions, slow and loving. “There we are,” he says as he finally meets Jon’s eyes. “Better now?”

“Y-Yes,” he croaks back. His hand is still gripping at Tim’s shirt but he doesn’t let go until the reality of the situation sets in. “Oh God- I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“Is that why you slept out here?” Tim asks, his voice patient. “Does this happen a lot?”

“M-More than I care to admit.” Jon feels a sudden need to explain himself, to let Tim know he tries to keep it under control as best he can. “I’ve tried everything- tea, therapy, p-pills- it doesn’t work.” A note of frustration creeps into his voice. “Something doesn’t want me to sleep, I guess.”

“Just thought you were a workaholic, to be honest,” Tim pulls him into his side and Jon melts, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Should’ve known better. We work at the Magnus Institute, after all.” The laugh that comes from both of them is bitter. “D’you want to sleep in my bed, maybe? Just- just for company. I’ve been told that helps.”

“I-I don’t want to wake you.” The argument is weak and the both of them know it.

“You already have, love.” The endearment slips out unnoticed by Tim, but Jon hears it. “You’ll wake me either way, but I’d rather you didn’t wake up alone.”

“O-Oh.” There’s a lot of care in those words. Jon doesn’t know what to do with it, except agree. “Yes, I’ll- if, if you don’t mind-”

“Wouldn’t offer if I did.” He wouldn’t, Jon knows. Tim always means what he says when it comes to him.

So they curl up in his bed, an arm slung across Jon’s waist, his back to Tim’s chest. There are no spiders here, not in this bed that smells of dryer sheets and detergent and Tim. He’s almost asleep when the arm around his waist tightens suddenly.

“My brother always said the pressure helped. When he had bad dreams.” Jon opens his eyes.

Tim never mentioned a brother; it never came up in any of their conversations. Tim knows Jon is an only child, that he was brought up by his grandmother and had a lonely childhood. He didn’t realize, in all of their time together, that he knew so little of Tim’s own background, besides his publishing career.

Nobody liked to talk about what brought them to the Magnus Institute. It was like some unspoken rule, some shared trauma that somehow kept them all silent and apart.

“Your brother?” he whispers, turning over to see Tim’s face. Its dark, but he thinks he can see a brightness in Tim’s eyes like unshed tears.

“Danny.” Tim says the name like he’s asking for forgiveness that Jon can’t give. He sees a tear drip down the man’s face and he reaches for it, just like Tim did before. “He was...he was my little brother. And he was so, so good.” Tim’s voice breaks and something in Jon breaks too. “And something took him from me.” His expression is hard but his hand reaches out to lovingly trace Jon’s face, as if trying to memorize its shape.

“I’m sorry,” Jon knows his apology is not enough, that it will never fill the gap in Tim’s heart. Instead, he finds words spilling from his lips, as if sharing his own pain will help too. “I-I saw someone get taken, once. I didn’t- I didn’t love them, but- but it was because of me.” Tim’s hand is in his hair, tucking a curl behind his ear as his voice wobbles. “It should’ve been me.”

Tim draws him close and squeezes; Jon buries his face in the crook of his neck and inhales. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, Jon,” Tim whispers as he runs a hand down his back. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Jon isn’t Danny and Tim isn’t offering him absolution but it’s fine, for tonight.

Jon doesn’t dream.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494077

#prompts #karliahs #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #precanon #hurt/comfort #angst

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noctuaas · 4 years

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AS YOU WISH; t. kuroo

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, fem!reader

fic navigation

01 ; THE BRIDE

TO BE THE MOST beautiful girl in the world was a concept far past your concern. Those around you certainly saw the potential, but at 16 years old, you simply could not care less to capitalize on your natural beauty. (Beauty routines were exhausting in your eyes. You only washed your face so as not to feel filthy, taking a razor to your leg hair was far more trouble than it seemed worth, and you were quite sick of brushing your hair, so you did so as little as possible.) All you really wanted to do was ride your horse and pester the farm boy that worked for your parents.

Prince, as you had taken to calling the horse when he was just a yearling, was a loyal companion. Other girls your age grew attached to one of their herding dogs’ pups, or the kitten of a barn cat, but you had Prince. He always came when you called, steered where you told him even on a loose rein, nuzzled your face on bad days.

For all the time you spent taunting and bossing the farm boy around—“Farm Boy, fetch me this,” and “Farm Boy, take care of that,”—he always had one thing in common with the horse: he always did as he was told.

(Perhaps you knew that he was really a young man now—he was a year or two older than you—but he had been just an orphaned boy when he first came to work for your father, so that was what you referred to him as: Farm Boy.)

“As you wish,” he always replied, without fail.

Your father was fond of the farm boy, often remarking how he should leave him an acre of land in his will for all his hard work. These conversations never lasted long though, not before your parents would turn to you and chide you for needing to go bathe again and clean yourself up after spending the day in the barn.

Despite your disdain for taking care of yourself like a “proper lady,” as your mother liked to say, your natural beauty was still enough to cause the village boys to flock to you. Those dimwits always liked to badger you with stupid questions whenever you rode into town, offering silly favors and making awkward small talk, much to dismay of the rest of the girls in the village. The boys were always so annoying, and you often noted how much more tolerable Farm Boy was as you dismissed their advances. Eventually they took to making fun of you, laughing over snide remarks about you because they must have been embarrassed about being shot down. Sometimes the insults were too much to ignore, and when that was the case, Farm Boy took matters into his own hands. You always thanked him after he sent a village boy home bloodied and crying, and he always answered, “As you wish.”

You came to realize that Farm Boy was the only boy your age whose presence you seemed to enjoy. One night, you lied awake with the dim light from a full moon crawling through your window, thinking about how he was always kind and respectful to you, how he protected you and your honor, how he seemed to smile at you differently than he ever smiled at the other girls in town. (You also let yourself admit that he was quite handsome, with his amber eyes and ebony hair that was always in a perfect bedhead state, which was something you had never bothered caring about before.)

After that, your time was no longer divided between riding your horse and pestering the farm boy; now, ‘pestering’ was to be replaced with ‘falling for’. You let him join you on rides through the woods on Prince; you began doing your morning reading in the barn to keep him company while he fed the animals; you took it upon yourself to take out any extra supper your mother cooked to him. You even decided to stop calling him ‘Farm Boy’.

“What’s your actual name, Farm Boy?” you asked out of the blue.

“Why do you ask?” he had replied, and you snorted in mild amusement.

“Well, after having known you all these years, it must be quite rude of me to still call you ‘Farm Boy’.”

He paused and grinned that endearing grin of his, “Just call me Kuroo, then.”

Everything was so blissful for the year following. You loved Kuroo, and he loved you. Even on the day the royal Count and Countess of Aobajousai had strangely paid your family a visit, you both were sure of this; because while the Countess took Kuroo’s arm gently for him to show her the dairy cows and the Count watched you intently as you followed the small procession on your horse, you and Kuroo both stared at each other.

At the end of one year though, Kuroo unexpectedly showed up at your window in the middle of the night.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

You shot up straight in your bed, cocking your head incredulously, “What do you mean, ‘goodbye’?”

“I mean I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Have I done—”

“I’m taking to the sea to seek my fortune,” he cut you off. “There’s a ship that sails out of Karasuno, to the new country of Inarizaki. There’s great opportunity there, so I’m going.”

You were shell-shocked for a moment. Leaving? Sailing to Inarizaki? Where was this all coming from?

“But why? What about the farm? What about us?” You finally said. Your voice was already beginning to quiver pathetically as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“I’ve been training at night, so I hardly need sleep or food, and I’ll get two 10-hour-a-day jobs. I’m gonna save every penny, and in just a couple years I’ll have enough to buy a big farm and build a brand new house just for the two of us.”

“For the two of us?” Your brows furrowed and your voice was meek.

“Yes, (y/n). I love you. All these years I’ve stayed here because of you. I’ve taught myself foreign languages, made my body strong, everything, for you. I’ve been head over heels for you since I was a kid. Do you understand what I’m saying, or should I keep going?”

(By now, Kuroo had squeezed his broad frame through your window, somehow landing gracefully on the floor and sliding next to you on your bed so he could wipe away your tears with his thumb. It was a good thing he was athletic enough to do so quietly, because if your parents caught him in your room, all hell might break loose.)

“Never stop,” you mumbled dreamily.

“There hasn’t been a day—”

“You better not be teasing me, Kuroo, or I’ll have your hide,” you broke in this time. Kuroo loved to tease you, and it was normally all in good fun, but if that was the case now, then he was taking it way too far.

“I’d never joke about loving you,” he replied. “Remember all those years when you would tell me, ‘Farm Boy, do this, Farm Boy, do that’? What did I always say?”

“‘As you wish’.”

“Well, that’s just what you thought I was saying. I was actually saying ‘I love you’,” Kuroo smiled gently and ran his fingers through your hair.

All that time? You couldn’t even recall the first time Kuroo started saying ‘As you wish’ to all your commands, but apparently he had been in love with you. Before you had ever even noticed him, he was devoted to you. It sounded like a fairy tale.

“I love you too, Kuroo. I’ll never stop loving you, I swear,” you finally said.

“I’ll hold you to it, princess. I have to go now if I want to make it to Karasuno in time, but I’ll send for you soon. Promise.”

You nodded in understanding, but you couldn’t let him leave without one last kiss.

There had been five great kisses since the beginning of time. Though the precise rating of kisses is a bit convoluted and controversial (everyone knows that the formula for a great kiss is comprised of timing, affection, intensity, and duration, but there has never been a universal agreement on each element’s weight), there was no doubt that this kiss left every other in the dust.

The following morning, all you wanted to do was lay around and mope. It was perfectly justifiable, considering the love of your life had just left the country, and you wouldn’t see him for God knows how long. You wallowed in self pity for about an hour before realizing that Kuroo was out in the great big world now, and with as handsome as he was, he would surely have women throwing themselves at him.

What if all this moping destroys my beauty, and when he sends for me, I’ll arrive in Inarizaki, and he’ll take one look at me and send me back?

“Mother,” you ran downstairs, interrupting whatever petty argument your parents were having. “I need your advice. How can I better take care of my appearance?”

“You’ve never cared about your appearance, honey. Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”

“Well, I’m nearly 18 now. I figure it’s about time I start behaving a little more like a lady,” you lied. It was enough to appease your mother, and she grabbed your arm and began dragging you to the washroom in delight.

You quickly learned that taking such care of yourself was hard work; the saying, ‘beauty is pain,’ made an awful lot of sense now. But for Kuroo, nothing was too much. Every morning, you awoke at dawn to start the farm chores. You had to pick up all the slack left by Kuroo, so there wasn’t really any time for self-improvement until the afternoon, but once you started, you took it very seriously. Daily baths, simple exercises, and all the time it took to brush your hair out perfectly before bed.

If the whole town thought you were beautiful before, now they all knew you must be a contender for the most beautiful girl in the world. You, however, still had no care for how beautiful the rest of the world found you; as long as Kuroo found you beautiful. (In the coming years, you would learn that you were beautiful no matter what, and simplify your beauty routine to what you liked. As long as you felt clean and tidy, that was sufficient.)

Kuroo wrote you letters every few months, and you kept every one of them. Sometimes people would ask you how he was doing, which was a mistake unless they had a lot of spare time, because you could talk about him for hours. It was obvious that you were completely and utterly in love, and so the village boys eventually stopped trying, and the village girls warmed back up to you.

It made sense the way Kuroo’s death hit you the way it did.

The news reached your parents first. The Count (a new fellow named Iwaizumi, appointed by Prince Oikawa shortly after the last one’s death) was sent to your farm to deliver the news since it was Kuroo’s last known place of residence. You were returning from town on your horse when Count Iwaizumi was leaving your property.

“Miss,” he nodded politely as you crossed paths. You rode on in confusion, and the new Count watched you intently, much like the last one.

When you made it into the house, both your parents hushed up and looked at you with pity.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s The Crow’s Wing, darling. It was attacked,” your mother told you.

Kuroo’s ship was attacked? You furrowed your brows, “What?”

“Pirates. In the night,” your father explained.

You knew the trip across the sea would be dangerous, but you never thought it would happen to him. Sliding into a chair, you decided it might be best to sit down.

The room was quiet until you managed to squeak out, “So Kuroo’s been taken prisoner, then?”

A long sigh from your parents, and then, a, “No.”

“It was the Dread Pirate Nekomata.”

You blinked, willing back tears. The Dread Pirate Nekomata was the most famous pirate in all the world, and he never took prisoners. In all these years in his reign of terror, no one survived an attack from the Dread Pirate Nekomata.

You went to your room, and this time around, you allowed yourself to mope. For six days, you sulked, and cried, and mourned. Not once did you come out of your room, so your parents took to leaving food outside your door, which you only ever picked at meekly. During those six days in your room, you decided you would never love again.

#ITS HAPPENING YES #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #hq fanfic #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq scenario #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo fanfic #kuroo scenario #my writing

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