#if i said i was drunk would you forgive me? (i'm not) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nana-gumi · 6 months

Note

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

#nana.gumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru angst #satoru x reader

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osarina · 22 days

Text

ᡣ𐭩 OFFER ME MY DEATHLESS DEATH

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one drunken encounter with dazai sends everything spiraling. suddenly, all of your problems are catching up to you at once and you're lost as to how you should proceed... or that's not entirely true—you know how you're going to proceed but it's impossible for you to come to terms with how far you've let this go.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: sorry that i haven't really been active this week </3 i've been so busy. ill try to get to asks and everything soon. forgive me</3 i hope you guys enjoy part 5, i rlly had fun writing this chapter. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. reader and dazai argue, reader is a bit intoxicated, dazai heavily implied suicide attempt (not outright said/described bc he can't remember, but he assumes that's what happened) & he dissociates, dazai is in a pretty bad mental state the first half of the chapter, i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

You stopped seeking him out after that night.

Dazai sits in his apartment, knees curled to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He has to forcibly keep his breath steady—his homework for his engineering class is discarded somewhere to his left, he’d been working on it for class tomorrow before he made the mistake of checking his phone and seeing that you’d once again stopped reading his messages.

Two days straight now of silence on your end. He could go to your apartment like he’s been doing for the past two weeks but every time he tries to push himself to his feet with the intention of going to you, he finds himself rooted to the ground. Your words ring damningly and persistently through his head—how you told Nakahara Chuuya that you’re only doing this because he found the proof of your occupation, how you told him that you tried to cut him off.

Dazai knew what he was doing by using the video as leverage over you. He knew he was forcing you into indulging him, that he was backing you into a corner, but he’d allowed himself to be blinded by your treatment of him.

Even if it was coerced, no one has ever treated him the way you do—you remember the things he tells you off-handedly like he matters and you buy him the things he wants without him having to say anything like you care. You’re gentle with him—Dazai has only ever experienced bruising touches; Oda and Ango weren’t physical people and he can hardly remember his mother. He remembers the way his aunt dragged him out of the car kicking and screaming, tossing him to the ground in Suribachi before driving away. He remembers all of the nights he would get drunk at bars, ending up in strangers’ beds and waking up with a body that ached painfully and dark marks littered across his bandaged skin.

It’s hard to remember that you don’t actually want him when you treat him the same way he’s dreamed someone would treat him one day. It’s hard to remember that you turn your head away when he leans in to kiss you, that you ignore his lingering touches and change the subject whenever he almost gathers the nerve to bring the topic up to you.

You don’t want him.

He’s forcing you to do this by using the video as leverage.

You don’t want him.

He rests his forehead on his knees. That gaping hole in his chest that had started to return that night after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment is all consuming now. His entire body feels numb and prickly, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin.

He needs to put a stop to this.

His gaze draws from his knees to the floorboard he’s hiding the flash drive under. He could just… get rid of it. Get rid of it and disappear—you probably wouldn’t even notice. Maybe you would, he remembers how you came to his apartment when you hadn’t heard from him after sending the couch. Then again, you might’ve only shown up because you wanted to lie about why you were cutting him off. Dazai just doesn’t know with you.

Maybe he should just go to talk to you.

But if he talks to you… and the thought of leaving his apartment right now…

Dazai sighs, leaning back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling, weighing both options carefully before coming to a heavy decision.

You’re not in your apartment when he gets there.

Dazai would usually wander around and find something to make himself busy with while he waits for you. You have a piano on the opposite side of the room that he sometimes likes to fiddle with—he’s taught himself a few basic songs while waiting for you to get back from work the past few weeks. He ordered a gaming console and a few games to go along with it when you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open last week, but he doesn’t even have the energy to go look for one; not that any are even particularly standing out to him. Sometimes, he just snoops around, but his legs feel like lead, like they’re bolted to the ground, so he just sits on your couch and stares at the black television screen as the minutes tick by.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there—too long, it was still light out when he walked his way over to your building in Naka-ku and the sun had set a long time ago. He’s never felt lonely in your apartment before; in fact, he usually seeks out your apartment because he feels lonely and whether you’re here or not, it eases the void that grows in his chest.

But now? Each passing second, he feels colder and colder. A part of him thinks that he should take this as a sign and just leave, but his body is uncooperative, keeping him rooted to your couch as he awaits your return.

He’s planned out what he’s going to say to you; he’s rehearsed it in his head so many times that he thinks he could say the dreadful words while sleeping. Now, he just-

Dazai’s head snaps to the side when he hears the fateful ding of the elevator arriving at your floor. His eyes widen and his tongue swells with anxiety as he stares at the doors, his breath slows and his fingers bite into his pants as he waits to see you step into the room but when the doors finally start to slide open, he freezes when he hears laughter.

“I can’t stand you,” an unfamiliar male voice snorts and Dazai’s mouth dries as his gaze darts around, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing he wants is for a repeat of the other night—if this is another one of your mafia friends, Dazai has to move, but he doesn’t know where to go.

His gaze settles on a nearby hall leading to the bathroom and an unused room—it’s closer to him than the kitchen, he’d never make it to the kitchen because he’d have to go right past the elevator. His legs feel so heavy that it’s an effort for him to push himself to his feet. He almost stumbles right over them as he rushes into the spare room, keeping the door cracked open so he can hear and see what’s going on.

He peeks carefully through the crack, watching as two men enter your apartment—you’re with them and Dazai’s chest tightens painfully at the sight of you. You’re smiling as you lean against one of the men—Dazai recognizes him as the man who had come with you to his apartment complex the first time, he’d been waiting by the car for you—and you’re dressed prettily in a short black dress. You’re so dazzling to him that Dazai nearly tumbles right out of the room he’s hiding in, but luckily, he’s drawn out of his dazed state by another unfortunately familiar face: Nakahara Chuuya, the executive who had been at your apartment the other night.

Dazai quickly leans back into the room when the ginger’s eyes snap down the hall as if he could sense someone watching him. He lets out a puff of air as he looks around the empty room—he’d looked in here before when he first started coming to your apartment, but had been sorely disappointed by the fact that there was nothing in the room for him to snoop around in.

Now, he blinks because while the room is still mostly empty, there are some tools in here as if you’d had someone come in to take measurements to start building something in there. His gaze slides from the far wall to the one nearest to him, dragging his feet against the wood floors to slide his fingers against the lines drawn on the wall in pencil, realizing that it’s about the same size as the piano in the other room.

His throat tightens as he remembers your offer from the other day, wondering if you’d gone ahead and started having it done even after the argument with Chuuya and Dazai not showing up for two days.

God, he doesn’t understand you—he doesn’t understand you at all. He starts to doubt every conclusion he’s come to the past two days because why would you go to these lengths for someone you don’t care about? For someone who’s forcing you into indulging him through blackmail? It doesn’t make sense, Dazai has never had so much trouble reading someone before you.

He leans against the wall, lashes lowering as he looks down at the floor. He doesn’t know what to think and now his well-rehearsed speech starts crumbling in his head. Distantly, he can hear the conversation between you and the other two mafiosos—you’re talking about something happening in Tokyo and Dazai wonders if it has anything to do with that argument from the other night.

But regardless of the topic of discussion, what matters more is that you sound happy. Your voice is light and airy, and you seem entirely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t seen Dazai in days. Dazai doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so happy with him before and why would you when he’s blackmailing you? Your laughter rings bright and pretty like a chime and Dazai feels sick to his stomach at the thought of you laughing like that for someone else; he imagines the way your laughter will fizzle when you see him, all of the liveliness in your face dying at his unanticipated appearance.

It feels like an eternity and all too soon at the same time when Dazai finally hears the two leave. He takes one deep breath, preparing to force himself out from where he’s hiding but then freezes at the sound of you raising your voice.

“Dazai, you can come out now.”

He blanches, staring at the partially closed door in front of him, half-debating on not even coming out because how did you know he was here? He thought he’d been careful, there’s-

“I know you’re somewhere in here, the cushion was warm where you were sitting.”

Dazai has half a mind to throw himself out of the window.

He takes in a deep breath as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hallway that’s suddenly too cold and all too short. He swears it was twice as long when he was stumbling from the couch to hide in the spare room. His feet scuffle against the ground as he walks forward, not coming any closer than where the hallway meets your living room.

You’re laying on the couch he’d been sitting on, head resting back against the pillows and a curious expression on your face as you watch him. He can’t read it—if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was fond, but he refuses to let that hope bubble up into his chest only for it to be crushed again. He thinks he should say something, tossing around a few options in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance to.

You hold out your hand to him. “Come here,” you say.

Dazai hesitates, eyes lingering on your extended hand before flitting back up to your face. He shouldn’t—he knows he shouldn’t—but he finds his feet moving forward before he can stop himself. He stands in front of you awkwardly for a moment, not sure what you want from him, but then his eyes shoot open when you reach out and grab his wrist, tugging him forward onto the couch with you.

He pretends he doesn’t yelp when he lands on top of you, face flaming up when he shifts himself into a sitting position so that he’s straddling your waist, trying not to drop all of his weight onto you. He also pretends that he’s not entirely thrown off by the way your hands rest on his thighs, absently running them up and down the sides of them.

“Where have you been the past few days?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai’s blood pressure spikes at the curious look you give him, as if he hadn’t been texting you for days with no response. He can smell the alcohol on you now that he’s closer and he wonders how much you drank—he thinks that’s probably why you looked so fond before and that’s probably why you’re suddenly being so touchy with him, it has nothing to do with him. That empty feeling in his chest starts to return.

He should have just left, should have just destroyed the flash drive and disappeared.

“I texted you,” he replies tightly, feeling wildly uncomfortable as he’s unable to get a hold on the way he’s spiraling internally. “I can see you’ve been busy though.”

You tilt your head to the side as if you’re unsure of what he means and Dazai almost wants to get up and leave but the feeling of your hands on him, his lower body pressed to yours, it leaves him dizzy and slow. His breath catches as your hands slip beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing out against his bandaged sides, thumb drawing slow circles over the covered skin as if trying to calm him down.

Dazai thinks he might hate you.

He thinks he might hate himself more because it works. His heartbeat slows and relaxes into you a bit more. He wants to take you by the shoulders and shake you, wants to demand answers, wants to know if you actually care about him or if this is all just some big show for the flash drive.

“I haven’t looked at my phone,” you finally say. “I’ve been the one dealing with the issues in Tokyo. It’s just been meeting after meeting the past few days. I thought you’d be here when I got back but you weren’t.”

Were you waiting for him? He wants to ask. Expecting him? Or are you just saying that because you can tell he’s unhappy and don’t want to deal with his attitude? Dazai just doesn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on his body.

“Can we talk?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments.

“What about?”

About the flash drive. About you. About him. Dazai doesn’t know—about everything. So, instead he just says: “About this.”

Instantly, you turn your head away from him and Dazai’s frustration rises at your attempt at blatantly ignoring him. He reaches out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him and Dazai’s breath catches when your lidded stare lands on him.

“I’m drunk,” you tell him flatly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Bullshit,” Dazai immediately snaps, the pads of his fingers digging a bit too hard into your cheeks but you’re unfazed by it, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I think-”

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence because you’re pushing yourself up from your laying position, one hand slipping out from his sweatshirt to cup the back of his head, the other still firm on his hip as you drag him down against you. Dazai’s breath catches when you press your lips against his, lashes fluttering shut. The hand on his hip slides around to his back, holding his body flush to yours—he lets out a low moan into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip.

No, he thinks hazily, trying to push himself off of you but instead, his hands cup your cheeks and he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongues dance in a way that leaves him dazed, it feels almost intimately familiar to him, somehow so in tune with one another that it’s like you’ve kissed hundreds of times before.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows this. You said it yourself that you’re drunk, he knows you only kissed him to get him to stop talking but…Dazai sighs into your mouth when he feels the tips of your finger card through his hair, feeling you shift beneath him to let his hips slot between your legs.

But isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time?

Aren’t you finally giving him what you’ve denied him for weeks?

Your lips are intoxicating against his, and not because of the gin staining your tongue, he can hardly focus on anything with the way your tongue traces the back of his teeth, dragging against the roof of his mouth. He groans when you shift beneath him, one leg hooking around his waist. He separates his lips from yours to gasp for breath.

Shit, he thinks, lips parting when you kiss his jaw, trailing your lips to his ear to suck gently on the skin there before kissing slowly down his neck. He swears his entire body is on fire, breaths quick and shuddered; his mind feels so muddled and hazy that he has to actively tell himself to put a stop to this and even that is almost not enough.

It takes all of his willpower to push himself off of you, still breathing heavy, lips wet and swollen, his whole body tingling everywhere your lips and hands had touched. You stare up at him and Dazai’s body aches with need when he sees you’re nearly as breathless as he is, your own lips wet from his, eyes a bit glazed over. Heat burns in his lower abdomen but he can’t, not when he knows you’re drunk and not when he knows you’re only doing this to get him to stop talking.

Before Dazai can say anything, you look away from him again and he knows that it’s over.

“I’m tired,” you say. “Help me get to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

Dazai’s lashes lower as he nods, leaning down to help you to your feet. Even with your heels kicked off, you wobble on your feet, so he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. The silence is almost foreboding as Dazai guides you up the stairs to your bedroom; you don’t make any move to break it, so Dazai does.

“We’re not going to talk about it in the morning, are we?” he asks quietly, looking down at you. You don’t look up at him and Dazai just wants you to at least look at him so when he gets you to the door of your bedroom, he stops and looks at you. You still don’t look at him. “Can you at least look at me?”

Dazai thinks he might be sick from the way you have to seemingly force yourself to look at him. Even drunk, he can see the displeasure plain on your face and it makes him want to curl in on himself again.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dazai,” you finally say, your voice is tight. “I want to go to bed.”

“I want to talk about it,” Dazai stresses. “I-”

Frustration flies across your face, emotions loosened in your intoxicated state. You turn away from him and slam open your bedroom door and Dazai winces, taking half a step back.

“It’s always what you want, Dazai,” you hiss.

Dazai’s heart sinks, shaking his head because he doesn’t want to hear where you’re going with this. “Stop.”

“For weeks, I have been catering to what you want and now I don’t want one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum over it. I don’t want to talk about this—I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t want to talk about it in the morning, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just leave it be?”

Dazai takes another step back, staring at you silently. His ears ring as your words echo through them and though he can watch your face shift from frustration to guilt, it doesn’t process in his head—not really, not when all he can hear are your words on repeat over and over again.

You reach out for him, fingers curling around his wrist but Dazai pulls his hand back, taking a step away from you, closer to the stairs. All of his fight or flight instincts are triggered, his body itches to run, to flee downstairs and get out of your apartment, but his legs are uncooperative, feet rooted to the ground as he stares at you blankly.

“I didn’t mean that,” you say after a few moments. “I didn’t-I just-”

“It’s okay,” Dazai replies, voice a bit distant even to his own ears. “I’ll drop it.”

“Dazai-”

“Let me help you get into bed,” Dazai interrupts, forcing a smile onto his face as he pushes himself forward. His movements feel weird and clunky, unnatural almost, but he successfully leads you into your room, pulling back the sheets to help you into bed. “C’mon.”

He helps you slip into the bed and pulls the sheets over you, there’s still that hazy look in your eyes as you look up at him and Dazai tries his best to make sure that the smile on his face doesn’t look strained. He’s pretty sure you can see through it even while drunk. You reach out to grab his wrist again and this time, Dazai doesn’t pull away.

“Stay here tonight,” you say quietly. “Lay down with me.”

“I have class in the morning.” Dazai shakes his head, as much as he might ache to stay in your presence, he thinks if he stays in it a moment longer, he might actually break down—he can’t get your words to stop echoing. Only a steadily crumbling dam is holding back the torrent of emotions ripping apart his chest. “I can’t.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“I have to get all of my books, and finish my homework,” he tells you. “I can’t.”

“We’ll leave early,” you press, leaning up on your elbows. “C-”

“I can’t,” Dazai stresses, taking a step back and shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to go.”

You look conflicted, but to his relief and distress, you finally let go of his wrist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. After your classes. You finish at three, right? There’s a restaurant in Minami-ku I’ve been meaning to take you to.”

Dazai’s throat spasms as he swallows, shaking his head again. “I’m busy after class tomorrow. I have meetings for group projects.”

“When are they over? I’ll pick you up after.”

He feels a bit sick to his stomach as he looks up at your ceiling, in turmoil and unsure as to what to do. He knows you’re not doing this because you feel bad—not really—he knows it has to do with the flashdrive. He knows it. He thought it would be easier having someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, even if it was only because of blackmail because at least he would have someone, but he was wrong because this is a type of torture that Dazai just can’t endure any longer.

“I’m not going to want to do anything after, I’ll be drained.”

“Then we don’t have to do anything.” God, you won’t stop trying. You won’t stop trying and Dazai knows that if it wasn’t for that stupid flash drive, you’d have laughed in his face and told him to get out. He thinks he might actually throw up. “I’ll pick up the food before going to get you. We’ll stay in. Watch a movie.”

“No,” Dazai says, raising his voice now. “No. I’m just going to go back to my place. I have to go.”

Though his legs feel like lead and his body still yearns to be near yours, he forces himself to leave your room. Doesn’t look back when you call his name. Doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs when you tell him to wait. He nearly stumbles as he makes his way down the stairs and when he gets to the bottom instead of rushing toward the elevator, he sits on the arm of your couch, resting his head in his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

You’re so frustrating. So impossible to read that it’s beginning to take a toll on Dazai. He doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on not having a conversation about all of this. He thought you would’ve wanted to have a conversation about it for the chance of getting the flash drive away from him.

You’ve done everything in your power to avoid any physical contact with him until now; only finally giving it to him when there’s an issue you really don’t want to talk about to try to distract him. Hell, you’d prefer to even talk to him about mafia business—you vented all about the issues with the Shimazaki-kai to him, and Dazai would think that’s the last thing you’d want to talk to him about.

It doesn’t make any sense.

He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sound of something buzzing against the ground a few feet away, frowning as he looks around and spots your phone on the ground, probably lost in your drunken attempts to get to the couch. He hesitates before pushing himself off the arm of the couch, taking a few steps toward it before kneeling down to pick it up.

He chews at the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the home screen of your phone, staring at Nakahara Chuuya’s name in the text notification. He knows that he shouldn’t go snooping. He knows it.

He does it anyway.

He spares one last glance up the stairs before unlocking your phone with the code he’s seen you put in hundreds of times by now, clicks on your message app and lets out a puff of air when he realizes that no, you hadn’t been lying. You have at least twenty unread message threads—Dazai’s is pinned at the top with Chuuya’s and someone called Mori, who you’ve never mentioned to him. There’s only one message thread you’ve evidently been reading the past few days considering there’s no dot next to it: Tolstoy, the last message being from a few hours ago.

He shouldn’t look. He knows he shouldn’t look.

He clicks on it anyway.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he scrolls to the top of the conversation—only a few message exchanges between the two of you, but they’re decently long.

Tolstoy: Do you still want Ilya? I can have him there by the end of next week, I just need him to finish up some business in Moscow first. You: Haven’t decided. You haven’t even given me the rundown on the side effects of his ability. I’m not going to use it if it’s going to fuck up his head—stop playing salesman and tell me what’s actually up with him. No ability comes without consequences. You know that. I know that. So stop fucking around.

Dazai suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, vision tunneling on the ‘him’ you’re speaking of in the messages. A foreboding air settles over him, dark and oppressive, he has to physically force himself to keep reading.

Tolstoy: We don’t know of any side effects. Haven’t used it enough to figure it out. You: So, you want me to use him as a lab rat? Be real, Tolstoy. Thought you had more respect for me than that. Tolstoy: I’m trying to help you. You want that kid’s memory wiped, I can have it done for you, it’s just a matter of how badly you want it done.

Dazai doesn’t read anymore than that. He drops your phone onto the couch, takes a step back, a step away. His mind spins, ears ringing as he stares down at—he doesn’t even know what he’s staring at. His vision is swimming and blurring—with tears, maybe? Or just from exhaustion? From panic? He can’t tell but he knows he’s not breathing properly and he knows he needs to leave, everything suddenly feels too suffocating, too enclosed.

He stumbles over to the elevator, slapping the button and leaning against the wall as he waits for it to come up to your floor. It takes long—too long, each second that passes feels like an eternity and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

There’s only one “him” that your texts could be referring to. And it makes sense—it makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense why you’re so willing to divulge confidential information if you don’t intend for him to keep the knowledge of it. Makes sense why you’ve been notably careless with leaving files around your apartment. Makes sense why you told him about your ability. He’d thought you were finally letting him in, letting him know you, but-but of course, you weren’t.

Of course, you weren’t.

You were just…you were just trying to keep him placated, feed him bits of information to keep him happy because you knew you weren’t going to let him keep the knowledge of it. That you were gonna wipe his memory of it, of you, and send him back into that cold, dark void that’s been following him around his entire life and-

The bing of the elevator startles him, he flinches and still, he can’t breathe. His skin feels numb and prickly, his bandages are scratching uncomfortably at the scars hidden beneath them and he can hardly see straight.

Dazai needs to go.

He needs to go.

You wake up with a dry mouth, a pounding headache and an oddly foreboding feeling hanging about you. You push yourself into a sitting position, grimacing at the sun blinding you through the window—you don’t remember much of the night. You vaguely recall leaving the club last night with Albatross and Chuuya, the two of them incessantly bitching about dealing with you while you were drunk but in your defense, you think you deserved it after three days straight of meetings with the Shimazaki-kai on behalf of the Sun and Steel.

Everything after leaving the club is a blur. You grimace as you push yourself out of bed, glancing around to see if you’d dropped your phone anywhere near the bed only to come up empty-handed. You don’t even bother to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, anxious to find your phone and figure out what happened once you left the club.

You pray to god that it’s downstairs and you hadn’t left it at the club, making your way out of the bedroom with a sigh. You doubt Chuuya or Albatross would’ve been dumb enough to leave it there, but you’re pretty sure they were both drunk too and neither of them are functioning drunks.

You’re not even halfway through the door frame when pain shoots through your head, sharp and uncomfortable and then-

“It’s always what you want, Dazai.”

Suddenly, that foreboding feeling you awoke with makes sense. You stare ahead blankly as you remember who exactly was waiting for you at your apartment after you got back from the club. You remember the argument, you remember the crushed expression that crossed his face when you snapped at him, you remember pleading with him to stay or to at least let you take him out today and you remember him refusing, his voice pitched and cracking, wobbly, on the verge of collapse because-

Because of you.

Fuck.

It’s with increasingly more urgency now that you rush yourself down the stairs, a small lingering hope remaining that maybe Dazai had stayed in one of the guest rooms or on the couch, that you could do something to fix this before it escalates even more.

You don’t even know why you said that—it’s not like you mind giving Dazai what he wants, in fact, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You like seeing his face light up when you do nice things for him, you like when he tries to hide the way he gets all flustered, you like that he’s allowed himself to have hope with you—something he’s clearly denied himself for too long—and you what?

You ruined it because you got scared?

You ruined it because you didn’t want to talk about… whatever you have going on with him?

You ruined it because you were terrified he was going to force you to come to terms with the fact that you’re using his stupid flash drive as an excuse to indulge yourself in him. That it would take minimal effort to have it destroyed but you’re putting it off because you want to be able to rationalize what you’re doing.

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize that your apartment is empty, eyes darting around to try to find your phone. You need to call him—he told you that he wanted to be alone today, or maybe he didn’t say exactly that but he implied it, but you need to at least talk to him now that you’re sober and can think straight.

A distant part of you, a cold and logical part of you, tells you to just use this as the excuse to cut him off—you don’t need to get Ilya to fuck with his mind if he just hates you, you don’t want Ilya to fuck with Dazai’s mind. The thought of it makes your chest feel tight with guilt, so maybe you should take this opportunity for what it is, no matter how shitty it might make you feel, but-

But you won’t.

Finally spotting your phone on the couch, you snatch it up and unlock it, grimacing at the low battery percentage and then grimacing even more when there’s not a single message from Dazai lighting up your home screen. There’s seven from Chuuya, three from Albatross, and two from Mori, but you’re more concerned by the missed call from an unknown number and the unread voice message.

The foreboding feeling that has been looming only grows more intense when you click on the message for it to play out loud.

“This is Doctor Okamoto of Keiyu Hospital calling on behalf of a recently admitted patient… listed you as his emergency contact when he was brought in last night… unable to disclose any information regarding his injuries over the phone… suggest that you get here soon…”

At once, your vision tunnels and everything around you becomes white noise, your gaze is pinned on the ground, a smudge on the tiled floors as you try to keep yourself grounded because what? Dazai is in the-he’s in the hospital?

Because of you?

You hadn’t been subtle approaching him that day in the library, it’s been a lingering thought since then, wondering if unsavory eyes had caught sight of you talking to him. The bar and the cafe were different, he had approached you—if any of your enemies had happened to see it, they wouldn’t think twice about it. But you approaching him had been dangerous.

It had been a mistake.

Had it been a mistake to cost him his life?

And it’s not just that—you’ve taken him out to dinners. Picked him up at his apartment building. Places that you or your trusted affiliates own but there’s always the chance… and if he left the Port Mafia building last night in a rush, upset and not thinking straight…

Oh, you might throw up.

You’re not dressed properly. You’re still wearing your dress from last night and you fumble to put on the heels you must’ve kicked off in your drunken state. You don’t even care to get dressed, more intent on getting to the hospital and figuring out if—nausea builds in the back of your throat—if Dazai is alive, if he’s okay. You need to re-listen to the voicemail because your hearing had been unfocused and you’d only been able to catch bits and pieces of the doctor’s message.

And-

And you don’t even get into the elevator because your phone is ringing again as soon as you click the button. You don’t even look at the number before picking up, fearing that it’s the hospital again—it’s not, it’s Chuuya, and you immediately regret your decision because you aren’t even able to bark out a ‘what’ before he’s speaking.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chuuya snaps on the other side of the line. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, we-”

“I’m busy,” you hiss right back, interrupting him. “I can’t talk-”

“You can talk,” Chuuya says harshly. “Get to headquarters. The Guild is in Yokohama now. We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”

You don’t respond to Chuuya, heart sinking to your feet at his words, distress clawing at your chest so painfully that you think it might be easier if you just carve out your heart and toss it out the window. You hang up the phone without another word just as the elevator makes it to your floor, but instead of going inside, you make your way back up to your room, numbly changing into one of your suits so you could at least look somewhat presentable.

You hardly even recognize yourself in the mirror as you wipe off your smudged makeup from your night out. Your eyes are vacant and your expression so empty that you think you could almost be looking at a statue.

War with the Guild. Dazai in the hospital.

Everything is catching up to you at the same time and your mind is fraying at its seams, collapsing in on itself as the weight of everything bears down on you. You do your best to compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time but you can’t even concentrate on one issue.

You try to figure out what to do about the upcoming conflict, try to determine what exactly Fitzgerald might be planning so you can figure out what the Port Mafia will retaliate with, and your mind drifts to Dazai, you wonder if he’s okay, if he’s in critical condition, if it was one of your enemies that got to him or if it was something else.

You think about Dazai, all of the fear and guilt and anxiety tearing you apart, and your mind shoots straight to the Guild. Because if Fitzgerald knows about Dazai—if he knows about Dazai—then it’s over. It’s all over. If the Guild gets their hands on him, they’ll kill him when you don’t give them what they want because you can’t give them what they want. They want Yokohama and you can’t give them that.

You can’t, not even for Dazai.

You don’t even register that you’re standing in front of the elevator again until it bings, startling you right out of your thoughts. You can’t leave the building while you’re spiraling like this—you need to get a grip on yourself, you don’t even know where you’re going yet. You need to figure out if you’re going to go meet with Mori and the other executives or if you’re going to go find Dazai.

As you step into the elevator, it takes all but five seconds for you to make a decision.

Dazai wakes up to the familiar scent of antiseptic and a citrus-scented floor cleaning solution, the air is too stale and the air-conditioning is cranked up too high. He forces his eyes open, lids heavy and uncooperative, but he immediately lets them fall shut again briefly when he’s met with too white walls and the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him.

His throat feels swollen as he stares up at the ceiling—the last time he was here in the hospital he was seventeen and had nearly bled out in the bathtub in Odasaku’s house. The only reason he hadn’t was because Ango happened to stop by the house to pick up papers that Odasaku had left for him, finding Dazai unconscious and face half-submerged in the water. He woke up here to find both of them hovering over him, Ango concerned and Odasaku visibly upset for the first time since Dazai met him.

He wakes up alone now because Odasaku is dead and he hasn’t spoken to Ango in four years—doesn’t even know where the man is anymore, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, doesn’t want to know either.

“Dazai-sama.” He hears a nurse say from the door to his room. “You’re awake, how are you…”

The nurse’s voice becomes white noise with the beeping of the heart monitor and the vents blowing above. Dazai retreats back into his own mind—a dangerous place, but right now it’s safer than the white walls that surround him, knowing he’s going to be badgered with questions that he doesn’t want to have to answer.

How are you feeling, Dazai-sama?

What happened, Dazai-sama?

We need to ask you a few questions, Dazai-sama.

Dazai feels defeated.

His head falls to the side as he stares out the nearby window, watching as a bird swoops down in view before taking off into the sky.

He doesn’t even remember what happened. He remembers leaving your apartment, he remembers… he remembers seeing your texts, your plans to wipe his memory. And… that’s about it? He vaguely remembers the familiar feeling of his lungs burning, remembers being tossed around by the rough currents of Tsurumi River. He doesn’t remember how he got there but it’s not exactly hard for him to piece together—even now, Dazai thinks he would rather be dead than have his memories forcibly erased.

“… to know what exactly hap…”

A dark and familiar cloud settles over him. His eyes feel heavy and his chest hurts. Dazai—he doesn’t even know what to think anymore. He’s so tired that his bones ache and his muscles feel so weak that he just sinks into the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

He doesn’t know what he expected—he thinks that to some extent he expected you to leave him. Everyone has left him. His mother, his aunt, all of the brief friends he’d made over the years before they see him for what he is, Odasaku and Ango—everyone has left him, so he knew that you would too but… in this manner? Using an ability to wipe his memory of you?

Dazai has considered it before. He’s wondered if maybe his life would be easier if he could just… forget. If he could live without the memory of everyone who has left him hanging over him. Some days, on really bad days, he thinks it might be easier. To try to make himself feel better, he thinks that maybe he isn’t the issue, maybe it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy, that it’s his past experiences cursing him to make the same mistakes over and over again; that without them, he might stand a chance.

But then when he thinks about it—when he really thinks about it—he knows in his heart that it’s not true, and he knows that without the memory of them all, Dazai will only feel more empty. And to think that you were trying to take his memories of you from him… without even asking, without giving him a choice in the matter… it almost makes Dazai-

“Dazai.”

His gaze snaps to the side when he hears your familiar voice come from the door leading into his room. Instantly, he’s shaking his head and looking away again, he can’t even bear to look at you but you’re walking over to him, you’re coming to his bedside, you’re sitting next to him on the hospital bed and you’re reaching out to cup his cheek, forcibly turning his face to make him look at you. You look worried, something sharp and concerned in your eyes that makes his throat swell and he wants to spit at you and call you a liar but he can only sink into your touch.

“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, almost painful for him to use.

“What happened?” you ask him quietly instead of answering his question—you never answer his questions, you always deflect, always maneuver around them. The ones you do answer, it’s only because you plan to- “Dazai, what happened? Are you okay?”

Dazai doesn’t know how you can look at him like this all the while planning the most diabolical betrayal that he could ever imagine. You’re either an actress deserving of international recognition or… or Dazai doesn’t even know.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Why are you here?”

“The hospital called me-”

“But why are you here?” Dazai cuts you off, grateful that his voice is firmer than the turmoil wreaking havoc through him. He must’ve given them your number while he was half-delirious when he was brought in—he figured that out already—but that doesn’t explain why you actually came. “Why did you come?”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say as if Dazai should believe you.

And he wants to believe you. Wants to believe that you’d come running just at the mere idea of him being hurt, wants to believe that you would care enough to come for him. He wants to believe you so bad, but he knows what he saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dazai tells you, finally gathering the willpower to pull his face away from where it’s resting in the palm of your hand. You don’t even let him shift away, hand slipping behind him to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined with his hair. “Stop.”

“I’m not lying to you,” you say like a liar. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

You sigh heavily and Dazai hates the way you’re absently drawing circles against the nape of his neck with your thumb, hates how it makes him feel at ease and especially hates the way his lashes instinctually flutter shut.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night, Dazai,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost believes you. Almost. “I was drunk, I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care about that,” Dazai says, proud of the way his voice stays sharp and cold. “I saw the messages between you and Tolstoy. I know what you’re planning. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to look at you, just leave me alone.”

You draw back at his words, concerned expression melting into a blank slate as you pull your hand away to sit back straight. Dazai misses your touch instantly, longs for the warmth to return but he forces himself to ignore it all, keeping his gaze pinned on you, watching the way your mind races behind your eyes. He wonders if you’re trying to figure out if you can salvage this, wonders if you’re going to lie.

Instead, a heavy look settles over your face as you frown, glancing back at the way you came and for a moment, Dazai thinks you’re just going to leave. You rise to your feet and words lodge in the back of his throat, preparing to spit insults at you: he wants to call you a coward, a liar, wants to tell you that you’re cruel and vile and he can hardly even stand to look at you.

But then you look back at him and hold out your hand to him. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s sneak you out of here… I’ll explain everything when we get out of the hospital.”

Dazai wants to be spiteful, wants to turn his head away and ignore you, wants to slap your hand and tell you that there’s no explaining what he saw.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he places his hand in yours and lets that treacherous, treacherous spec of hope bloom in his chest again.

Dazai hasn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. You’ve tried to make small talk with him, but every time, he just turns his head away to look out the window. You gave up twenty minutes ago and Dazai is already regretting not indulging conversation with you because the silence is agonizing. He knows he should break it, but he doesn't know how to now.

He glances at you from the corner of your eye. You’re leaning back against your seat, one hand on the steering wheel—he can’t see your eyes because they’re masked by sunglasses, but he can see the way your free hand rests on the gear stick, knuckles tense.

“What is this place?” Dazai clears his throat as he leans forward in his seat, peering out the windshield of your car to try to figure out where you’re taking him. He forces his tone to lighten, the smile on his lips strained. “Are you kidnapping me? Oh! Or are you taking me to some remote cabin to kill me? Bella, you truly know the way to a man’s heart.”

You let out a heavy sigh, one that makes Dazai toss a sweet smile in your direction.

Some type of beach house, he recognizes as you pull up a windy road to the top of a cliff looking over the water. He can see to his left a path leading down to the water and to his right a nice view of a distant pier. It’s not a large house, but it’s nice—well-kept and refurbished with a view over Sagami Bay. It’s not too far out from Yokohama, probably only a little over an hour, but considering Dazai’s never left the city in his entire life, this might be the furthest he’s ever been. He can almost feel a bit of excitement bubbling in his chest.

“I wanted to take you here, away from the city for a bit,” you finally say, fingers thrumming against the wheel of the car as you slowly guide the car up the gravel path. “So we can talk in peace.”

Your bland words whittle away his excitement and Dazai’s smile falters. He tries to distract himself with counting the strands hanging off the sleeve of his sweater but keeps losing count.

“Something you couldn’t have talked to me about in Yokohama?” Dazai asks airly as you pull to a stop in front of the beach house.

He doesn’t turn to look at you, doesn’t move until you finally get out of the car, reaching into the back seat to grab two duffle bags, nodding for him to follow you.

Wow, he thinks dryly, you came prepared.

Dazai feels distinctly like he’s walking to his execution as he follows you to the steps leading up to the house, but instead of walking up them, you toss the bags on the porch and then continue up the path.

You’re going to push him off a cliff, Dazai thinks, feet dragging against the gravel as he follows you. This is it, all of the years that he’s longed for death and it’s finally about to find him at your hands.

“I might not die from the fall,” Dazai says, words drawn long as he pouts. “You wouldn’t really leave me to suffer in freezing water, would you?”

“No,” you say, glancing back at him. He lets out a quiet breath of relief that’s quickly snuffed out when you add, “I’m not that sloppy with my kills. I’d kill you before dumping your body over the side of the cliff.”

Dazai blanches, but your lips curl up into an amused smile so he settles down, sighing as he purposely knocks his shoulder with yours.

“My bella is so cruel,” he sighs dramatically. “She hates me.”

You sigh as you reach the edge of the cliff, not turning to look at him. The wind whips around the two of you—it’s a cool, early spring night, the temperature just enough to be uncomfortable but you don’t seem bothered by it as you stare out across the water as the sun starts to set.

You’re beautiful, Dazai thinks, breath catching at the sight of you beneath the setting sun. The golden rays cast an ethereal glow over you, the wind ruffles your clothes and hair, and your expression is solemn in a way that’s become terribly familiar the past few weeks.

“I’m not going to do anything with the video,” Dazai finally says, voice quiet—finally taking the chance to say what he wanted to say last night. “You don’t have to keep… pandering to me because you’re trying to protect yourself. I was never going to do anything with it, I just… wanted you to give me a chance.”

When you look over your shoulder, you give Dazai a small, genuine smile that makes all of the air whoosh from his lungs.

“Dazai, I’ve known you weren’t going to do anything with that video since day one,” you say, amused. “If I thought you were, I would’ve had someone confiscate it from your apartment.”

Dazai’s lips part, mind racing. “But then why-”

Your smile softens at the edges and you sigh as you lower yourself down to the ground, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Dazai joins you, thigh brushing yours and shoulders absently knocking together. Your hands rest in your lap and Dazai’s fingers twitch to reach for yours. He only hardly refrains himself.

“I don’t remember a life before this,” you say after a few moments, a distant look in your eyes as you stare ahead. “When I was seven… eight, maybe, I was pulled out of a warzone by the current leader of the Mafia. I don’t even remember my parents—anything about them. Their names. Faces. What they sounded like, what their job was. Mori… he found me in my town sitting in the middle of a whole pile of bodies and I couldn’t even point out which pair of corpses were my parents. I don’t remember anything before him… It’s all just black. Blurred.”

Dazai stares at you, eyes a bit wide as he listens to you speak. His lips part to say something but he decides against it, instead he seals his lips back shut and presses his shoulder against yours. Mori—that was the other name pinned up with Dazai’s message thread and Nakahara Chuuya’s—he must be the Port Mafia boss. His gaze traces your face as you stare ahead, catching the melancholic expression on your face. He itches to reach for your hand.

“I could hardly remember anything about myself. My first name… that’s just about it. My new birthday became the day Mori found me, my new surname—when needed—was his, he… he became my reason to live when I had none. Gave me a purpose,” you tell him faintly. “I spent two years on a warfront trying to figure out what my ability was so I could be the finishing touches of the immortal regiment that he was trying to create. As far as I remember, all I’ve known is… this. Him.”

Dazai wants to say something but every word he tries to push out dies on his tongue. Instead, he finally does reach out to grab your hand, fingers curling around yours tightly. You look down briefly, an unreadable expression on your face before it softens and… and for a split second, Dazai can see you, he can see you: not a hardened executive of a mafia, but an eight-year-old girl, lost and confused and landing in the arms of the wrong man, and it makes him sick.

The traitorous part of him wonders if you’re only telling him this because you still plan on following through with the memory wipe, so Dazai does what he always does when someone threatens to take one of the few things he wants—he digs his claws in and doesn’t let go.

“The war ended before I could figure out how to use my ability and I followed… him to the underground. We ended up with the Port Mafia while the previous boss and his family were still leading. He was…” You trail off, frowning. “Dangerous. Yokohama was a terrible place under his leadership. He slaughtered civilians who spoke poorly about him and the Mafia, killed his own men for looking at him wrong… Mori became his doctor and for the good of the city, he decided to kill him.”

“I remember the old boss—what he did to the city,” Dazai says quietly—how could he not? His aunt was terrified of being in Yokohama because of him, was constantly talking about leaving the city… she finally did after dumping Dazai off in Suribachi and leaving him to fend for himself against the wolves. “It was bad.”

“It was,” you agree absently. “Mori—he wanted it to be as bloodless as possible. He tried every route, but the only way for it to be bloodless was if he had someone to corroborate that the previous boss died in his sleep and left the Port Mafia to him.”

Dazai almost scoffs.

“No one would believe that.”

“We’d hoped maybe one of his grandchildren would step up. Even if it was clearly a lie, people would have to listen because they were his blood,” you say with a wry smile. “They didn’t.”

“So, what happened then?” he presses when you don’t immediately continue. He frowns when he catches the sudden change in your demeanor, like you’re sick to your stomach, unable to push out the next words. He feels a bit dreadful, squeezing your hand gently.

“We had to wipe out the whole family,” you whisper, looking down at your lap, “and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s granddaughter—she was asleep, had a bear tucked in her arm and a nightlight on the right side of her bed. I slit her throat, then both of her older brothers. They were kids.”

Oh.

Dazai’s throat spasm as he swallows, the picture forming in his head cold and chilling, but instead he forces out:

“You were a kid too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time,” you say, voice flat, leaving no room for argument. “We hunted down the whole bloodline, immediate to extended family. Mori was insistent on it, said we couldn’t risk one of them ever returning and upending everything we’ve built. He’s still searching for some to this day just to make sure.”

That’s… foreboding to say the least. Dazai watches you carefully, the grim expression on your face and the frown on your lips. He pulls your hand into his lap, tracing your fingers gently to try to ease you and he watches from the corner of his eye as your expression softens again when you look at him. It makes his chest feel tight and fluttery.

“I was sixteen when I met Itou.” The cold expression on your face warms at the unfamiliar name. Dazai watches as the corner of your lips curve up into a fond smile, as if you’re reminiscing. “He was seventeen. We were partnered up for years. This was his beach house—or, well, I don’t know whose it was but Itou took it. He was awful, honestly. A terrible fucking person, had more blood on his hands than any other member of the Mafia, found way too much joy in tormenting people. He was awful, but he was the closest thing I had to family. He tried to show me a world beyond just… bloodshed and violence. Took me to amusement parks on days off, snuck me onto school trips with random groups of kids and told me to ‘blend in’ as training for infiltration missions, showed me how to live, not just… survive. He died on a mission a few weeks after I turned eighteen, made me promise him that I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be without him, that I’d at least try to be happy.”

Double oh.

Dazai almost does throw up now, mind drawing back to a face that has been haunting Dazai for four years now, Odasaku’s last words ring through his head painfully—a reminder of his own inadequacy, of his failure to fulfill his friend’s dying wish.

He remembers the way your face shifted when he told you about Odasaku at Kido’s Boutique and he wonders if he’d reminded you of Itou back then when he spoke of the man and his promise, just like how he was reminded now. His grip on your hand tightens unintentionally—as if you can sense his thoughts, you squeeze his fingers gently.

“I didn’t,” you say with a tight smile. “Threw myself into work, accepted that my fate was to live, breathe and die for the Port Mafia. I didn’t see the point of anything—well, not until I met you, at least.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker up to you, breath catching when you meet his gaze this time. And god, you look beautiful—so beautiful that Dazai thinks that if he dies now, he could die happy. He almost wishes that he could die now, fall off the side of the cliff with the image of you burned behind his eyelids. It would be a better death than he deserved.

“You made me happy. Make me happy,,” you tell him quietly and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat. “So effortlessly that I can’t even understand how you do it, but it’s impossible for me to justify dragging you into this world just because I’m selfish.” Dazai parts his lips to disagree but you don’t even give him a chance to speak. “So when you came to me with your stupid blackmail, it was so… easy to just use it as an excuse for me to indulge in you.”

Dazai doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t get it. You’re sitting here talking to him, explaining everything, and Dazai still doesn’t understand. He makes you happy—he makes you happy and you make him happy, there doesn’t need to be any more complications than that. You don’t have to push him away, you don’t have to cut him off, you don’t have to use that memory wiping ability on him.

“I don’t understand,” Dazai says, voice hoarse. “You make me happy too, so why is…”

“Because Chuuya is right,” you say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “The risks… Dazai, you can’t ask me to put you in danger like this. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair to cut me off because you’re scared,” Dazai counters, voice a bit pitched. “It’s not fair that you want to wipe my memory without my consent. I don’t care about danger, I don’t-”

You look at him sharply, an intense expression on your face that makes Dazai hesitate.

“I never would have done it without talking to you first,” you say tightly. “Do you really think that little of me?”

Dazai looks away, not answering the question. “I never would have agreed to it,” he replies, voice equally tight as yours. “Never. It’d be a waste of your time.”

You sigh and Dazai feels you shift next to him but he pointedly keeps his gaze trained ahead, refusing to look at you. He feels your fingers brush his cheek before the pressure becomes a bit firmer as you turn his face so that he’s looking at you. You’re so close that his nose brushes yours, the pads of your fingers are warm against his skin; if he leans in just a bit, he’d be able to kiss you.

He wants to kiss you.

“You don’t know what’s at stake,” you say softly, breath fanning across his lips as you speak. He can almost taste the mixture of mint and nicotine on your lips—you smoke when you’re nervous, he’s noticed it over the past few weeks with you. The more nervous you are, the more cigarettes you run through; he wonders how many cigarettes you’ve gone through since you’ve gotten the call from the hospital. “The danger-”

“You want me,” Dazai whispers, squeezing your hand, leaning in a bit more. “No one has ever wanted me before. Not like this. Not for me. You want me.”

The last sentence—it doesn’t come out as a statement, it comes out as a plea. He wants you to say it. You didn’t the last time, but he needs to hear it now. Desperately. His nails dig into your hands, he doesn’t even dare to breathe as he waits for you to speak.

“I want you,” you agree, voice so quiet like you don’t even dare to speak the words out loud in fear of the consequences of them. “I want you. I want you so bad that it scares me, Dazai Osamu.”

And Dazai breathes. The breath he lets out is long and shaky, the relief that sweeps over him is almost debilitating. He searches your eyes to make sure you mean it and when he only finds honesty and a type of fear that he’s never seen in you before, Dazai knows.

“You think it doesn’t scare me?” Dazai asks you, voice cracking. “Everything I ever come to want is always lost. Ever since that first day we met, I-I knew that I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before and I’ve been terrified that one day you’ll leave me. Promise me that you won’t. Promise me.”

You stare at him and for a terrible moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to shake your head and say you can’t, but then you swallow, nod and say, “I promise.”

Dazai kisses you. And then he kisses you again. And again. And again. Until his lungs burn and he can feel your lips curve up against his and even then, he kisses you still. Kisses you as the sun sets over the bay and the moon rises above the mountains. Kisses you until the wind becomes too bitter for the two of you to stay outside and still, he smiles as he peppers kisses across your face, walking back down the path to the beach house.

He ignores how your phone has been buzzing incessantly all night, praying for at least one day of peace before reality slaps the two of you in the face again.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai osamu x you

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Text

100 random dialogue prompts

truly random, there's a mix of angsty and smutty and fluffy in here. as a result it's nsfw and 18+ :)

"who did this to you?"

"where are you going dressed like that?"

"this isn't enough anymore. I need more of you-- all of you."

"I'm not angry, I just get tired of watching you get hurt."

"don't say stuff like that, it gets me all... confused."

"just lie to me, okay? just this once."

"I never said I didn't feel the same way."

"you should go... before someone sees."

"I hate how you make it impossible to hate you."

"too good for you? don't be ridiculous-- they don't deserve you."

"fuck, do that again... please."

"you promise you're going to behave this time?"

"oh please, you knew what you were doing... you wanted to drive me crazy."

"no, it's not over. it's never over."

"so you're saying even if we were the last people on Earth--?" "nope."

"sooo... is everything supposed to just go back to normal after that?"

"you can't ignore me. not anymore."

"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

"you really didn't notice that I was falling in love with you?"

"is this really the last time?"

"I'm sorry, I swear I tried, but I just can't get over you."

"do you really think that toy can replace me?"

"don't tell me how to feel."

"forgive me, but I'm not feeling very patient right now."

"you could do so much better than me."

"what would they think if they saw you right now?"

"I didn't know you could be so obedient."

"you can take it."

"you were never my fallback-- I always wanted you."

"yeah, I want to, but... wouldn't it be weird?"

"don't act like you never thought about it before."

"I wish they could all know about us."

"you're the best mistake I ever made."

"no, I don't hate you... I'm angry, but I don't think I could ever really hate you."

"let's just stop now before anybody's feelings get hurt."

"don't get my hopes up if you're just gonna leave like everyone else."

"I can't let it end like this."

"if you do what you're told, you'll get a reward."

"what's gotten into you? you're being so... naughty."

"I think we're on a first name basis by now."

"don't do that... don't act like you don't feel this too."

"it was never just sex."

"I wish I'd met you sooner."

"you can tell me anything."

"why do we have to get out of bed again?"

"I think this is my favorite way to wake up."

"I was already yours."

"there's no way that was just a one-night thing."

"if you can look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go, I'll go."

"has anybody else ever made you feel like this?"

"it feels like we were made for each other."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and I miss you."

"I have an idea to make them jealous."

"just one more kiss?"

"do you really expect me to believe this is what you want?"

"if you say you're happy with them, I'll believe you. or at least I'll try to."

"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me."

"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"

"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."

"hey, you lost the bet, fair and square."

"stop imagining it!" "I'm sorry, but I can't get it out of my head!"

"it's too bad we never did. we would've been great together."

"I never thought I'd hear you talk like that."

"oh, fuck me--" "okay." "what? it's just a figure of speech..."

"were you joking? I wasn't joking."

"admit it: you had a crush on me!"

"I just need you to hold me right now."

"friends can cuddle, right?"

"I wouldn't have picked this for movie night if I'd known it had so many sex scenes..."

"they're great but... they're not you."

"I always thought it would be me and you in the end."

"you're not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?"

"if you hate me so much, how come you keep coming back?"

"do you remember getting drunk and calling me last night?"

"I'm free tonight if you still need a date for that thing you're going to."

"I'd do anything for you."

"I think I finally get what all those love songs are about."

"it's weird being here again... so many memories."

"I wish you'd give me a chance."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird."

"seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me."

"just ask yourself for once: what do you want?"

"okay, okay, I'll leave-- as soon as I can find my pants."

"we need to be more careful next time."

"wait, why are you in my bed? did we...?"

"I took you for granted, I know. but I want to treat you right this time."

"kiss me like you mean it."

"keep the lights on, I want to see you."

"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"

"we promised we wouldn't let this affect our friendship."

"no, don't cry-- if you start crying, I'll start crying!"

"I want to see my marks on you tomorrow."

"don't act innocent, it's not going to work with me."

"is this really turning you on? I'm not even doing anything."

"come look at the stars with me."

"I lov--" "no, don't say anything. you'll kill the moment."

"what happens next in your fantasy?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this but... you were in my dream last night."

"why do you still wear the hoodie I left at your place?"

#fic prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompt

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kentobb · 2 months

Text

The Bet (Part Seven)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: *Sigh* Pure Angst, Jealousy, Alcohol, Mentions of Drunk people?, Foul Language, Suggestive, Smut (Theres not but theres a suggestive part so…might as well categorized it like that), etc.

Author’s Note: I know I said that I will see you guys in a few days. But I was in my break in the airplane and wrote this piece of art. 🩷 Next chapter in a few days. But let me know what you think is going to happened next :)

Part 01

Days passed, and everything seemed to spiral further into despair for Sukuna. He had tried calling you countless times, but each attempt was met with the same automated message: "Sorry, the person you're calling is not available. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Hey, it's me again…please, call me back. Let’s talk.” Sukuna's voice broke as he left yet another voicemail, the pain evident in his words. But there was no response. His text messages, too, were left on "delivered," never receiving a reply.

He clutched the heart locket you had returned to him in such pain, now worn around his own neck, a constant reminder of the love he had lost. Each day without you felt like an eternity, and the absence of your presence in his life was a gaping void that consumed him.

What hurt the most was that you hadn’t been attending class for the past week. He looked for you everywhere—your usual seat in the lecture hall, the library corner where you loved to study—but you were nowhere to be found. The halls felt emptier without you, and summer break loomed just around the corner, only amplifying his sense of urgency and despair.

His brothers had tried their best to comfort him. They sat with him, talked to him, tried to distract him with jokes and stories. But it was useless. Sukuna's mind was consumed with thoughts of you, replaying every moment you had shared, every word he wished he could take back.

Yuuji walked into Sukuna's room one evening, finding him sitting on his bed, staring at his phone. "Hey, any luck?" Yuuji asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sukuna shook his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "No. She’s not answering. I don't know what to do.”

Yuuji sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You just have to give her time, Sukuna. She needs to process everything.”

"But what if she never forgives me? What if I've lost her forever?" Sukuna's voice was barely a whisper, his fear palpable.

Choso joined them, leaning against the doorframe. "You haven't lost her yet. Just keep trying, keep showing her that you care. She'll come around."

Sukuna nodded, though his heart felt heavy. "I hope you're right."

Days turned into nights, each one blending into the next in a blur of unanswered calls and unspoken words. Sukuna spent his time going through the motions, attending practice, going to class, but his mind was always elsewhere. He found himself constantly touching the locket around his neck, seeking solace in its presence.

Summer break was only a weekend away, and the impending separation from the campus only added to his anxiety. He feared that the distance would only widen the gap between them, making it even harder to reach you.

One evening, as he sat alone in his room, Sukuna decided to leave one more message. "Hey, it's me. I just wanted to say I'm sorry again. I miss you so much. Please, call me back when you can. I love you."

He hung up, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of his room echoing his loneliness.

His brothers found him there, a picture of heartbreak. They exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to help him. Yuuji sat beside him, while Choso leaned against the wall, both trying to offer their silent support.

"We're here for you, Sukuna," Yuuji said softly. "No matter what happens."

Sukuna nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Thanks," he whispered, though he couldn't shake the overwhelming sadness that clung to him.

As the days crept closer to summer break, the weight of your absence grew heavier. Sukuna knew he had to find a way to make things right, but he felt lost, unsure of how to bridge the chasm that had formed between you.

He held onto the hope that you would eventually hear his messages, read his texts, and remember the love you had shared. Until then, he would keep trying, keep waiting, and keep believing that somehow, you could find the way back to each other.

One evening, just as he was about to send yet another unanswered message, there was a knock on his door. Sukuna hesitated, his heart pounding with a mix of hope and fear. When he opened the door, he found Gojo standing there, looking uncertain and hesitant.

"Sukuna," Gojo began, his voice wavering slightly. "Can I come in?”

For a moment, Sukuna stood still, his emotions swirling. He didn't know if he was mad at Gojo for telling Mei Mei, or if he was mad at the situation itself. But then he saw the genuine worry and regret in Gojo's eyes, and he managed a soft, weary smile. "Yeah, come in."

Gojo stepped inside, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a rare vulnerability. He sat down, fidgeting nervously. "Look, I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. I messed up. I shouldn't have said anything to Mei Mei. I didn't think—"

Sukuna held up a hand, stopping him. "Don’t. It’s okay.”

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not mad at me?"

Sukuna shook his head. "No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just... tired. Tired of everything. It was my fault too…”

Gojo's shoulders sagged with relief, but the guilt still lingered in his eyes. "I really am sorry, Sukuna. I never wanted to hurt you. You're my best friend."

Sukuna nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest. "I know, Gojo. I know. It's just been really hard."

There was a heavy silence between them, filled with unspoken words and shared pain. Finally, Gojo cleared his throat. "Look, I know this might not be the best time, but I think you need a break. Mahito's throwing a summer break party, and I think you should come."

Sukuna frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't feel like partying."

Gojo leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "Just think about it, okay? You need a distraction, something to take your mind off things, even if it's just for a little while."

Sukuna sighed, running a hand through his hair. The thought of going to a party felt overwhelming, but he couldn't deny that he needed to escape his own thoughts, if only for a few hours. "I don't know, Gojo..."

"Please," Gojo insisted, his voice softening. "Just give it a try. You don't have to stay long. Just come and see if it helps. You can't keep torturing yourself like this."

Sukuna hesitated, but the look in Gojo's eyes, filled with genuine concern and friendship, swayed him. He nodded slowly. "Just for a little while."

A smile broke out on Gojo's face, a mix of relief and hope. "That's all I ask. Thanks, bro."

As they prepared to leave for the party, Sukuna felt a small flicker of something he hadn't felt in days—a glimmer of hope. He knew that it wouldn't solve everything, but maybe, just maybe, it would help him start to heal.

Sukuna arrived at Mahito’s party, the pulsating music and thrumming energy immediately overwhelming his senses. The house was packed with people, bodies dancing against each other, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. He made his way to one of the sofas where his teammates were lounging, drinking and laughing. Yuuji and Choso were already there, engaged in animated conversation.

Sukuna plopped down on the sofa, grabbing a drink from the table in front of him. As he took a sip, he noticed several of his teammates with their girlfriends, their laughter and affectionate touches reminding him painfully of what he had lost. He felt a pang of hurt, wishing you were there with him, remembering how it felt to have you by his side.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, Sukuna found his gaze wandering toward the door. He watched idly as new arrivals trickled in, but then his heart nearly stopped when he saw who walked in.

First, there was a girl with fiery orange hair, wearing a stylish outfit that accentuated her bold personality—Nobara. She exuded confidence, her eyes scanning the room with an assertive gaze. Beside her was a tall, brooding figure with dark, messy hair—Megumi. His demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet there was a certain intensity in his eyes.

But it was the third person who made Sukuna’s breath catch in his throat. It was you.

His eyes widened, and his heart pounded in his chest. What are you doing here? This… this isn’t the place for you. Why would you be here?

You wore a stunning red dress that hugged your curves, the short hemline showing off your legs, and the neckline revealing just enough to make his mouth go dry. Your makeup was flawless, enhancing your natural beauty, and your hair was styled elegantly. You carried a small red purse, completing the look.

Sukuna could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen you like this. You looked scared, nervous at your surroundings.

As you walked in, people turned to look at you, some even whistling appreciatively. Sukuna felt a surge of jealousy and protectiveness. He didn’t like the way others were looking at you, the way they seemed to undress you with their eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, your attention focused on Nobara and Megumi as they led you toward the mini bar. Sukuna shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours.

Nobara, with her usual flair, seemed to be showing you the ropes, gesturing animatedly as she explained the different drinks. Sukuna’s mind raced. He knew you had never drunk alcohol in your life. This was all new to you, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out of place, that you didn’t belong in this chaotic environment.

As he watched you, he felt a mix of emotions—jealousy, worry, longing. He wanted to protect you, to pull you away from the prying eyes and the potentially harmful influences. But he also knew he had no right to do so, not after what had happened.

Sukuna's eyes followed your every move, noting the way you hesitated before accepting a drink from Nobara, your expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He wanted to rush over, to tell you that you didn’t have to do this, but he stayed rooted to his seat, torn between his desire to see you and his fear of making things worse.

His teammates continued their banter, oblivious to his inner turmoil. Gojo, noticing his distracted state, leaned over and followed his gaze. “Isn’t that…?” Gojo trailed off, his eyes widening in realization.

“Yeah,” Sukuna replied, his voice tight. “It’s her.”

Gojo glanced back at Sukuna, his expression concerned. “What are you going to do?”

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately. He watched as you took a tentative sip of your drink, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliar taste. Nobara laughed, patting your on the back, while Megumi watched with an amused smirk.

Summoning his courage, Sukuna stood up and began to walk towards you. Nobara, sensing his approach, quickly stepped in front of you, blocking his path.

“She doesn’t want to speak to you,” Nobara said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “Who are you?”

Nobara glared at him, her stance protective. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Sukuna.”

Ignoring Nobara's words, Sukuna took another step closer, his determination unwavering. Just then, Megumi stepped in, his presence imposing. “You heard her. Back off,” Megumi said, trying to intimidate Sukuna.

Sukuna glanced at Megumi, a small, defiant smirk forming on his lips. “Nice hair, douchebag. Does it come with instructions?”

Megumi's eyes flashed with annoyance, but before he could retort, you spoke up, your voice cutting through the tension. “It’s okay.”

Nobara and Megumi exchanged worried glances, but reluctantly stepped aside, giving Sukuna the space to approach you. You looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Sukuna took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”

You glanced back at Nobara and Megumi, who gave you encouraging nods before moving a little farther away, giving you some privacy while still keeping a watchful eye.

“Oh wow” you said finally, your voice steady but guarded. “Did you figure that by yourself?”

The tension between you was palpable, and Sukuna struggled to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't believe you were here, dressed so beautifully, yet so different from the girl he had known. It was as if you had transformed overnight, and it hurt to see you this way—so distant and angry.

"Why are you here?" Sukuna asked, his voice edged with frustration. "This isn’t your scene."

You met his gaze defiantly, your eyes flashing with determination. "Isn’t that obvious? I came here to have fun.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. "To have fun? This isn't like you. You don’t need to change yourself to fit in here."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You don’t know me. You’re just some dude who got into my pants for what? A hundred bucks? Turns out I don’t know you either.”

As you turned to walk away, Sukuna instinctively reached out and grabbed your hand, trying to hold you back. "You do know me. And I know you. And I know that this… isn’t you.”

You yanked your arm away, your eyes cold and unyielding. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

He looked at you angrily, his grip tightening for a moment before he let you go. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Go ahead and have your fun."

“Oh I will, just watch closely.” You turned your back on him, joining Nobara and Megumi, who had been watching the exchange with wary eyes. The party around you started to intensify, the music growing louder, the crowd more energetic. A popular song blasted through the speakers, and everyone began to dance.

Sukuna stood back, watching as you moved to the rhythm with Nobara. He saw you taking shot after shot, your laughter ringing out as you lost yourself in the moment. It was clear you were trying to drown out the pain, but it only made Sukuna more anxious. He didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, too focused on keeping an eye on you.

His anger simmered as he watched you, feeling helpless. This wasn’t you, he thought. This wasn’t the girl he fell in love with. You were trying to become someone else, someone he knew you wasn’t.

The party continued, and a group of boys from the soccer team entered, their presence adding to the already chaotic atmosphere. Among them was Ino, the team captain. Sukuna recognized him immediately—Ino was known for his charm and confidence, a guy who could have any girl he wanted.

Ino’s eyes landed on you, and Sukuna saw him asking around about you. His jaw clenched as he overheard bits of their conversation.

"Who’s she?" Ino asked one of his teammates, nodding in your direction. "I’ve never seen her before."

"Not sure," the teammate replied. "But damn, she’s hot. Definitely new."

Sukuna’s grip tightened on his drink, the plastic cup crumpling in his hand. He wanted to march over there, to tell Ino to back off, but he knew it would only make things worse.

Ino watched you make your way to the bar, probably asking for more shots for yourself and Nobara. His interest piqued, he took his own shot, quickly following you. Meanwhile, Sukuna stood at a distance, trying to control the storm of jealousy and anger brewing inside him. He kept his eyes fixed on you and Ino, his fists clenched tightly.

As Ino reached the bar, he slid up next to you with a charming smile. "Hey there," he said smoothly. "I don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name?"

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and alcohol. "This is my first party," you replied with a giggle.

Ino raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your first party, huh? Well, you’re definitely making an impression."

You laughed, leaning in a bit closer. “Well, I hope so.” You said, your thoughts filled with alcohol.

Ino grinned, enjoying the attention. "Well, you’ve got the right idea. I’m Ino, by the way."

You smiled, eyes darting to where Sukuna stood, watching him intently. You saw the anger simmering in his gaze, and a mischievous glint appeared in your eyes. You wanted to provoke him, to make him react. You leaned in closer to Ino, whispering something in his ear that made him blush.

Sukuna saw this and felt his control slipping. He couldn't just stand there and watch you flirt with some guy. His jealousy and anger reached a boiling point, and he marched over to the bar, his eyes locked on you.

"Hey, what do you think you’re doing?" Sukuna demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Ino turned to face him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just having a conversation. Is that a problem, bro?"

You looked at Sukuna, your expression challenging. "We're just talking, Sukuna. Or do you have a problem with that?"

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, I do have a problem. I don't like seeing my girl flirt with some random guy."

Ino raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Whoa, whoa. I didn’t know she was your girl. She didn’t mention anything about having a boyfriend."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the bar. "That's because I don’t. We’re not together anymore, remember? I would bet a hundred bucks that you do remember that.”

Sukuna took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “We may not be together right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand by and watch this."

Ino chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, Sukuna. Maybe you should step up your game."

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with anger. "Back off, Ino. This isn’t a game."

Ino shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Whatever you say, man. But from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s having a good time without you, am I right princess?”

Sukuna's anger boiled over as he squared off with Ino. "Back off now, or I swear, I'll punch you," Sukuna threatened, his voice low and menacing.

Ino smirked, clearly unfazed. "You think you can intimidate me? Bring it on, man."

Their argument escalated, voices rising above the din of the party. You rolled your eyes at their macho display and decided to walk away, leaving the two boys to their petty fight. You made your way back to Nobara, who was already at the bar, affected by the alcohol as well.

Sukuna saw you leave, realizing what you successfully did, his anger boiling, he quickly turned away from Ino. Who cursed under his breath as Sukuna left him talking to himself, feeling the sting of being ignored.

At the bar, you started taking shots one after another, trying to drown your feelings in alcohol. The music thumped through your body, the lights blurring together as you downed another shot. Your head felt light, limbs heavy, and your vision wavered. You felt a strange mixture of euphoria and disorientation, the world spinning around you in a dizzying dance.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating. You laughed more freely, but there was a desperation to it, a need to escape the pain that lingered in your heart. You leaned on the bar for support, your mind foggy and your thoughts jumbled. You didn’t realize just how drunk you were, caught up in the haze of alcohol.

Sukuna watched you from across the room, his concern growing with every shot you took. He knew you were pushing yourself too far, and he couldn't stand by any longer. He made his way over to you, his heart pounding with worry.

"It's time to leave," Sukuna said firmly, his grip on your arm gentle but unyielding.

You tried to pull away from his grip, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, I’m having fun. Let me go.”

Sukuna tightened his grip slightly, ensuring you couldn’t slip away. "You're drunk. You need to go home."

You stumbled, your balance unsteady. "I’m fine, let me go!" You slurred, your eyes struggling to focus on him.

Sukuna looked around for help and spotted Choso nearby. "Choso! I need your help," he called out.

Choso quickly made his way over, his concern evident. "What’s up?"

"Help me get Nobara. She’s drunk too," Sukuna said, nodding toward Nobara, who was barely standing.

Choso nodded and went to help Nobara, who leaned heavily on him, giggling uncontrollably. Sukuna kept a firm hold on you, guiding you carefully through the crowd. He searched for Yuuji, needing his help to manage the situation, but Yuuji was nowhere to be found.

Sukuna and Choso managed to get you and Nobara to his car. He gently placed you in the passenger seat, where you immediately fell asleep, head lolling against the window. Choso helped Nobara into the backseat, where she too quickly succumbed to sleep.

"Where the hell is Yuuji?" Sukuna muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Let’s look for him quickly," Choso suggested, scanning the crowd.

They headed back into the party, looking for any sign of Yuuji. Sukuna opened one of the doors, and his eyes widened at the sight of Yuuji and Megumi making out passionately. Neither of them noticed Sukuna, too wrapped up in each other.

Sukuna backed out quietly, closing the door behind him. He returned to Choso, shaking his head. "I couldn’t find him," he lied, unwilling to expose his brother's private moment.

Choso sighed. "Alright, let’s get them back to the dorm. I’ll text Yuuji and let him know."

They returned to the car, and Choso pulled out his phone, quickly typing a message to Yuuji: "We’re heading back to the dorm. Everyone’s safe. See you later."

Sukuna started the car and began the drive back to the dorms, the weight of the night pressing heavily on him. He glanced at your sleeping form beside him, his heart aching with regret and worry. He hoped that once you sobered up, you could talk properly, and he could begin to mend the rift between you.

Choso stayed silent during the ride, sensing Sukuna’s turmoil. The streets were quiet, the night air cool and soothing. When they finally reached the dorms, Sukuna parked and carefully carried you inside of his dorm, with Choso doing the same for Nobara.

Choso gently laid Nobara down on the sofa, tucking a blanket around her to keep her warm. He glanced over at Sukuna, who was carefully carrying you to his bed. Sukuna placed you down gently, pulling the blanket over you and brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Choso looked back at Nobara, shaking his head slightly. “Yuuji still isn’t answering,” he said, a hint of worry in his voice.

Sukuna smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “He was kind of busy,” he said teasingly.

Choso frowned in confusion but then shrugged it off, too tired to ask for clarification. He put a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the coffee table for Nobara for when she woke up. “She’s going to need this in the morning,” he muttered.

Sukuna nodded, grateful for his brother’s thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Choso.”

With a sigh, Sukuna made his way back to his room, pausing at the doorway. He saw you sitting up in his bed, looking around the room with bleary eyes. You were clearly still drunk, your movements unsteady.

“Go back to sleep,” Sukuna said softly, his voice filled with concern.

You didn’t listen, your gaze finally landing on him. “Kuna,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him. The sound of it melted his heart, bringing back a flood of memories.

You stood up, wobbling slightly, and walked toward him. Despite your drunken state, he could see the pain in your eyes, the hurt you were trying to drown out with alcohol. You reached him and began pushing him angrily, your fists hitting his chest.

Sukuna stood still, letting you vent your anger. He didn’t move an inch, your punches not having any effect, but knowing you needed to get it out. You were stronger than you looked, but not enough to physically hurt him. But he deserved anything you threw at him.

“You hurt me,” you cried, your voice breaking. “You broke my heart.” You punched again, “You used me!”

“I know,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You continued to hit him, your punches growing weaker as you started to sob. Sukuna finally reached out, pulling you into a tight embrace. You struggled at first, but then collapsed against him, your sobs shaking your small frame.

“I’m so sorry,” Sukuna repeated, holding you close. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. Your eyes were filled with so much pain, it broke his heart all over again. And then, without warning, you kissed him. Your lips were desperate and passionate, and Sukuna couldn’t help but kiss you back.

For a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, locked in a kiss that was both familiar and new. But then he felt your hands toying with the belt of his pants, and he knew what you were trying to do. He gently grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling back slightly and feeling the alcohol on your lips. “You’re drunk. You’re not conscious.”

You began to cry again, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.

He guided you back to the bed, laying you down gently. You clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt. Sukuna climbed in beside you, pulling you close. He began to caress your hair, his touch soothing.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just sleep.”

You rested your head on his chest, your breathing slowly evening out as you drifted off to sleep in your drunken state. Sukuna continued to stroke your hair, his heart aching. He had missed this—holding you, comforting you, being close to you.

As you slept, Sukuna thought about everything that had happened. The bet, the breakup, the pain he had caused you. He knew he had a long road ahead if he wanted to earn your trust back, but he was determined to do it. He loves you, and he would do whatever it took to make things right.

But he just hopes that when you wake up tomorrow, you still miss him.

Comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#jjk #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk yuuji #jjk sukuna #jjk ino #jjk megumi #jjk choso #jjk nobara #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna angst

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angelsrcute · 5 months

Text

7 WEEKS AND 3 DAYS. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Scaramouche + Sub!FReader ➜ cws: angsty, toxic relationship, asshole scara, abuse, one sided love(?), kitchen sex, getting ghosted, unprotected sex, raw sex, manipulation, reader gets pregnant. ᡴꪫ‎

꒰ † ੭‎ — I do not condone these actions irl, this mostly shows how the reader is in a toxic relationship but can't get out of it. Also this is my first time done this type of a lyric fanfic!!

Scaramouche, who wouldn't know him? He was a popular guy. Though he wasn't a nice guy, a delinquent. Had the worst friend group, and slept around a lot. Any girl would die to have a night with him. So what happens when he starts hanging around you? You brushed it off thinking he just wanted to have a good fuck with you. All your friends had warned you about him, how bad he was. You mostly ignored him. Detentions and parent calls, very normal for him, not like his parents cared. Doing drugs, partying, and bullying sometimes.

All my friends say "fuck you".

But could you ignore his sweet words? holding your hand as you two watched the stars. How could you ignore his promises as he kisses the back of your hand, you of course fell in love with him. Hands on your waist as you sat on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss was passionate, not like some low effort kiss. Oh, how much you loved this man. That night you confessed to him, his face brightening up as he landed more kisses to your face. Laughing in his arms till your stomach hurt.

But I can't help but love you.

You let him into your house, even gave him a spare key. Went on dates, you forgot what everyone said about him. This is true love, he was nothing like the rumours. Daily texts and phone calls, missing each other even though you two meet daily. He even opened up to you, about his family. But once you both slept together, things started to change. You felt like he was spending less time with you. You thought it was because of how busy he was, you'd always stay awake at night, waiting for him to come back. You were so worried. He'd see your texts very late, whenever you asked to go out with him, he'd always make an excuse.

And even though you ran me out dry.

When he'd come home drunk, he'd sometimes hurt you, calling you a possessive bitch for questioning him so much. But would still apologise to you with tears in his eyes, promising he wouldn't do it again, cradling you like some child who's scared. You'd forgive him at the end, maybe he just had a bad day or was in a bad mood, it's alright, everyone has those types of days. It'd still happen, everytime. He got jealous very easily too, and wouldn't let you talk to other guys. Maybe now you're seeing his true colours, but he cherishes you so much, right?

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I swear this won't happen again, don't be scared okay? please."

I still think you're a decent guy, Why?

Hands wrapping around your waist as he leaves trails of kisses on your skin. Bending you over the kitchen counter, “Forget the food, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.” His cock thrusting into your cunt, it hurt, but you stayed quiet. He was never gentle with you, always leaving bruises. He shoots his load in your cunt, making you all warm and dumb.

On the rare days that he visited you, it would always lead to sex. You wonder if he sees you as nothing but an object. Silly thoughts, he's just showing you his love.

I should've caught him by his last name

You were pregnant, what a happy news. Maybe this will fix your relationship? You hoped so, desperately wanted him to look at you with the same eyes he once used to. Scaramouche never replied to you nor picked up your calls. Had he ghosted you? no this wasn't supposed to happen, he's just busy, right?

Tears fell from your eyes as you waited for your husband to come back, which he never did. Ah, what a dumb fucker you are, of course this was all a game. He didn't want to love a single person, he just wanted to have relief. What a shame your kid would never be able to see his father. Would he look just like scaramouche? You dreaded the thought.

You still believed that scaramouche loved you, at least you did, every moment.

It's been seven weeks and three days.

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Power II

Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: You put Katie in her place

Katie was really toeing the line now.

A win against Chelsea under her belt and suddenly she was drunk off the feeling of victory.

That always made her act out a bit and you looked up at her from under your lashes as you sat in her cubby.

The whole locker room was celebrating.

Usually, you wouldn't venture in here but she had been insistent, dragging you inside in a way that really puffed her up to her friends.

You could forgive that though.

You always gave her a bit of leeway when she was celebrating. Not too much though and she was really getting closer to you snapping at her.

"Y/n!" Kyra crowed from across the room," My zipper's stuck!"

You sighed fondly at the girl, getting to your feet to fix her coat for her.

A half-eaten slice of pizza hung from her mouth as she struggled, trying to force her zipper down and you tutted.

"Give me a moment, Kyra," You told her," I don't know how you got it this stuck."

Kyra was sat in her cubby and you had to lean over to wrench the extra fabric out from her zipper.

You'd just got it free when you felt a slap to your ass.

You shrieked a little bit at the shock of it before whirling around.

Katie was grinning, looking back at her friends to check if they saw but her smile dimmed when she saw the pointed look you were giving her.

You stepped closer, enough for the team to not hear your words as you spoke them directly into her ear.

"That's strike one," You said," Keep pushing me and I will put you back in your place, Katie."

"Babe," She stuttered out," It was just a joke."

"And that's why it's only your first warning."

Strike two came when you were on the bus. Usually, you would drive yourself to Katie's games but she had insisted on having you on the team bus with her, sat in her lap.

She was still talking to Leah and Lessi and you knew the moment Leah mentioned partaking in certain celebrations when you got home that Katie would feel emboldened again.

Her hands roamed and you let them.

They were mostly under the table where the other girls couldn't see.

A squeeze of the thigh.

A teasing drag of her leg against yours.

Then her hands got higher and higher until she was squeezing one of your breasts in one hand.

Your shifted a little bit, tilting your head to once again speak into her ear.

"Second warning. One more Katie and I swear to god I will put you in your place in front of all of your little friends."

Katie's hand dropped.

There wasn't another incident until you all got back to London.

You were walking off the bus when Katie, having been teased somewhat by Leah, pulled you into a downright filthy kiss in public.

There was cheering behind her and you decided in that moment that Arsenal was just frat house masquerading as a football club.

You also decided that Katie had run out of warnings so, as she slipped her tongue into your mouth, your hand shot out to grab her neck.

She faltered.

"What?" You said," Is something wrong? You love when I squeeze your neck when we kiss."

"B-Babe," She said, chest heaving, torn halfway between being ridiculously turned on and embarrassed beyond belief.

"What? I thought you wanted to kiss me in front of all of your little friends."

"I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh. You will be." You pulled away but kept a tight grip on Katie's neck, raising your voice so everyone could hear. "Now, go and say goodbye to your friends. Nicely, Katie, and then we'll go home."

"Er...yes..."

You released her and off she went to say goodbye, face burning red as everyone stared with open mouths at how obedient she had become.

You couldn't resist though.

"If you hurry up then I'll break out that big strap you like and we can work on you taking it all."

Her face burned brighter.

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 21: Try to Understand

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty one of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: I'm gonna go 18+, I'm not sure that it needs it, but I'm still gonna do it. Angst, Talks of pregnancy, Talks of possible abortion, Cursing, Fluff, Sexual References, Graphic Nightmare?, FLUFF, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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Soldier Boy POV

After his shower, you still haven't come back from talking to Rosemary, and Ben decides that instead of eavesdropping on your conversation, he's going to go to the kitchen and get a drink. He knows exactly where Legend hides the good shit, mostly because Legend hid it to keep it away from Ben in the first place. And despite it happening forty years ago, nothing in Legend's house had changed. Ben had many memories of this house, at least two Herogasms had been hosted here, hell, Ben had memories in the room you two were sharing, but he kept them to himself.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think about any of the things that happened in the past, not when you had told him that he had made it up to you, not when you had held him close after all these years and whispered things to him that he always wanted you to say, and not when he was more happy than he'd ever been.

You said that you forgave him, Ben understood that, but that didn't mean he was going to stop making it up to you every day and it didn't mean that he was going to stop making you happy, because after all these years you were still the only thing he wanted, and he refused to lose you ever again.

He glances at the empty bottle on the nightstand, the one that you brought with you last night and the same bottle the two of you finished together.

He was surprised when you said you stopped drinking, but not completely. You'd only drunk socially as a supe, and Ben hadn't seen you drunk since the two of you were kids. He knew it was because you didn't want to lose control like he did.

Ben stutters on the memory of what happened in Mid-town, and what happened forty years ago when he threw a car through a house and killed an innocent bystander. Ben didn't believe he was a bad guy, he was a hero or- the memories of all the moments he lost control began to seep though the cracks- at least he thought he was.

His mind drifts back to you. You were always in control. The one time he'd ever seen you lose control was when you lost it at the premiere all those years ago. It was justified. Ben would have lost it too if he walked in on anyone fucking you. His jaw clenches at the thought, but then he remembers what you said last night, that there hadn't been anyone else, that you never wanted anyone else but him ever. It was surprising to him, that you hadn't moved on, even after all this time you still loved him the same way you always had and that there would never be anyone else.

Fuck. Ben took in a deep breath to avoid getting too excited remembering what you said, feeling warmth begin to build in his abdomen. It had been difficult to contain himself when you admitted that to him. If you had let him, he would have made love to you right then, made you feel things that no other man ever did, but you said you wanted to wait.

And Ben wanted to respect that, wanted to respect you.

He examines the empty bottle once more.

When you were younger he'd watch you get drunk on cheap beer that he bought you more than once, usually when you proclaimed that you could drink him under the table and then Ben had to practically corral you to get you home. Then again he liked those nights, when you'd try to sing, swing from light poles that lined the street, and you'd grab his hand and say crazy things like "let's run away" or "let's go egg Missy Callahan's house." Both of which Ben didn't need much more convincing to say yes, but the two of you never did.

He would have run away with you if you'd ever seriously asked him to, he would have dropped everything to leave, would have chosen you just as you chose him the night he showed up and asked you to go with him to get the serum. The promise he made to protect you and be strong for you the night you went with him was not new. He had repeated it to himself every day since the minute he realized how much you meant to him.

And he would continue to do it for the rest of his life.

Ben ascends the stairs, buttoning the Giants jersey that Butcher bought for him. He wasn't the biggest fan of them forty years ago, but it was one of the only shirts he had. And the last thing he wanted to do was walk around without a shirt on. Ben smiles to himself remembering your reaction when you walked in on him changing into his supe suit yesterday morning. He loved that you reacted to him that way, it was the same way that he reacted to seeing you yesterday when you were standing in your bathroom in only your bra, looking just as beautiful as you had forty years ago when he took you to bed and-

Fuck. Ben took in another deep breath finishing the last button to avoid thinking about you naked. It had been forty years for him and he knew that he was going to have to take it slow when it came to sex.

He stumbled into the kitchen and froze.

Lou was sitting at the square kitchen table that sat under a floor length window and looked out onto the sprawling backyard of Legend's property. Ben could see Rosemary and you talking at the very edge of where the grass met the thick woods beyond.

"Hi Ben!" Lou smiles wide at him. A giant box of crayons sits on the table just beyond her filled with every color known to man, while she scribbles in a sketchbook that looks suspiciously like the same ones that Ben had seen you buy for yourself in the past. "Do you know how to draw trees? Aunty y/n always does them for me, but she's talking to mommy."

"Um-" Ben clears his throat, fastening the last button of his shirt. Lou was smiling at him the same way you did, like she was genuinely happy that he was there, and he wasn't used to that. It was the same way you used to smile at him when he climbed through your bedroom window. He looks out the window to where you're still talking to Rosemary trying to find a way out, until finally he sighs. "No. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, mommy can't draw either." Lou looks back at her drawing while reaching for a brown crayon. She was wearing pink polka dot pajamas, pants and a shirt that matched. Ben had never seen pajamas like that before, but he supposed that pink was her favorite color, given that she was also wearing a pair of bright pink fuzzy slippers.

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you hated how much Lou liked pink, if it reminded of those dresses your mother used to make you wear that always made you look like a giant iced birthday cake.

Personally, Ben didn’t think you looked that ridiculous, he thought that you looked cute, ruffly, but cute. You never believed him when he told you that.

Ben wandered over to the cabinet where he thought the whiskey was, but as soon as he opened it, he found the cabinet empty.

Did he fucking move it?

"It's under the sink." Lou said from behind him.

"What?" Ben turns around surprised.

Lou was still scribbling with her crayon in her sketchpad. "Uncle Legend came in and moved it this morning."

"Thanks." Ben awkwardly makes his way over to the sink, and sure enough behind the mop bucket is a full bottle of whiskey. He busies himself with pouring a glass before he eyes the chair next to Lou wondering if he should sit there.

Ben was nervous, he'd never admit it, but he was. This was his granddaughter, someone that you loved very much. He'd never been around a kid before, didn't have any siblings growing up, and certainly didn't have any relatives with children the way you had.

He liked to think that if he had been there when you were pregnant and when you gave birth to Rosemary he would have gotten used to it gradually. He wasn't sure if he could even be a dad, not after everything that happened with his own.

He was sure that he was going to be a disappointment to Rosemary and even to Lou and-

"Sit with me." Lou says, interrupting his train of thought as she gets off of her chair to pull out the one next to her for Ben tugging with all her strength to pull it out from under the table.

Ben hesitates, but finally smiles at her efforts to get him to sit with her and sits down.

An awkward silence falls over him, he's again unsure what to say, so he takes a sip from his glass and hopes that you'll come in and save him from saying the wrong thing, but given how upset you look standing outside with Rosemary, he's sure that it won't be anytime soon. The urge to go outside and get between Rosemary and you is strong, but just as he begins to move to get out of the chair, Lou interrupts him.

"You make her smile more." Lou says, while grabbing a red crayon with her chubby hand and begins to draw the petals of a flower in her sketchbook, meticulously trying to make them more circular, tongue between her teeth as she concentrates.

"Who?"

"Aunty y/n. She didn't smile as much before." She says it matter of factly.

"Really?"

Lou nods reaching into the box of crayons for a new color. "She tried to act like she wasn't sad, but I think she was. Sometimes when she thought I was asleep I would find her on the couch just sitting there. I think she was lonely. And I tried to give her bigger hugs but they never seem to work. Hugs always make me feel better." Lou sighs.

"I'm sure that your hugs made her feel better." Ben's says tightly. He's not sure how to talk to Lou, isn't sure if he should talk to her like an adult or not.

"I love aunty y/n. I want to be just like her when I grow up. I want to be an artist!"

Ben looks down at the sketchpad on the table beneath Lou’s hands. It was of a giant tree that had different colored flowers all squished together in its branches. Each flower was different than the last, crudely drawn, but under it all Ben could see her potential. It reminded him of the sketchbook pages you first showed him when you were eight and swore him to secrecy, threatening bodily harm if you told anyone else about them.

“You’re very good.” Ben says and Lou beams with pride at her drawing, before flipping to a new page. She holds out a brilliant yellow crayon towards Ben. “Please draw a sun right here.” She taps her finger against the top left of the page before placing the crayon in his hand.

“Oh I don’t think I-“

“You can do it Ben! Aunty y/n says that art doesn’t have to be perfect, that it gets messy sometimes but that makes it fun!” Rosie reaches for a purple crayon and begins to draw stick figures to the right of the page.

Ben had heard you say that before, usually after your mother would sneer or make a comment about your paint stained hands when he’d bring you home from a day at the park. But sitting here listening to Lou say it was different.

Lou reminded him of you as a kid. She wasn't afraid to speak up, to say what she thought, and she was filled with creativity and love.

Ben always admired that about you, that you were able to create things so perfectly and that you always made space in your heart for him, even when he was a complete dick for so long. He wondered if Rosemary was like you too. He could see a bit of it when she told him off, saw how headstrong she was and how ready she was to protect who she loved from him.

Ben hated that Rosemary believed that he would hurt you again, when it all but tore his own heart out to do so the last time.

But he was trying, hoped that she could see that he was trying and hoped that one day she’d let him in. The problem was he wasn’t the most patient person in the world.

He looks down at the crayon in his hand frowning slightly. He wasn’t an artist like you. The only thing that he’d really ever drawn was the naughty doodle that got him kicked out of boarding school, the one that made you laugh so hard you pushed him off the bed when he drew it for you in your sketchbook. You’d tried to show him other ways of drawing and painting but he’d never been interested.

Not to mention he didn’t think it was manly. He didn’t think that a man should have a hobby like this. It should be fishing or hunting or something like that but he looks down at Lou.

Her eyes are shining bright with excitement, smile wide, dimples showing and he doesn’t want to disappoint her, not when she’s been nothing but nice to him since he showed up.

If Hughie or fucking Butcher come in here and see me drawing this fucking sun I’ll-

“You don’t look like your pictures.” Lou hums drawing a smile on the face of the stick figure.

“Huh?” Ben looks up confused.

“The pictures that mommy keeps in the drawer.” Lou says reaching for a black crayon to draw long flowing hair on the stick figure.

“What pictures?”

“Of you and aunty y/n. Mommy has some in her drawer.” Lou acts as if she hadn’t said anything, grabbing a different crayon to draw another stick figure.

“She has pictures of us?”

“Yeah. You don’t have the beard though. And you and aunty y/n are really young.” She pokes his cheek with a chubby finger, making Ben freeze. Lou squints her eyes at him. “You don’t look like the picture that aunty y/n drew either.”

Ben hesitates, eyes slightly widening. “She drew a picture of me?”

“Few days ago.” Lou scribbles. “You didn’t have a beard then either.”

In the new drawings and paintings that Ben had seen back at your apartment, he hadn’t seen any drawings of him, he assumed it was because of everything that happened, but to learn that you did still draw him made him smile.

“You don't like it?” Ben asks, amused.

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Aunt y/n likes it.” He said it more to himself than to Lou. Like hell he was going to shave it off when he saw how much you liked it when he came back. Ben smiles to himself remembering how your heart beat jolted out of your chest whenever he touched you, how your cheeks flushed, how your smooth skin felt beneath his hands-

There were so many little things that Ben missed about you, so many things that he had forgotten, and now he got to learn each one all over again and fall in love with every part of you for the second time in his life.

The sun he drew in the top left of the page was lopsided, but Lou didn't complain, in fact she added a pair of sunglasses to it, and a bright smile that Ben laughed at.

"What are you two doing?" Ben hears your voice say as your hand gently rubs his back. Ben looks up embarrassed. He hadn't wanted to get caught with a crayon in his hand, but at least it had been you and not Butcher.

"We were just-" Ben begins to say, his eyes flicking to where Rosemary stands behind Lou eyes narrowed.

"Mommy look. Ben is helping me color!" Lou crows, picking up her drawing so Rosemary can see.

Ben realizes what Lou was drawing on the other side of the page. Lou has drawn Rosemary and you standing with Lou in between the two of you holding on to her hands. Ben's eyes slide to the last figure in the drawing, his chest suddenly very tight, it's him, standing beside you, frowning, but holding on to your hand.

Rosemary smiles tightly at the page with a sigh. "That's nice sweetie. Come on, let's get you dressed."

"But I like my pajamas."

"Do what your mother says Lou." You smile down at her, stroking her dark hair back from her face.

"Okay." She sighs dramatically and begins to walk out of the room, but Rosemary is still glaring at Ben.

"Rose-" You begin to say, but she interrupts you.

"She might be able to forgive you, but I'm not going to." Her eyes narrow. "I don't think you're good for her."

Ben is still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, your hand solidly on his back as if you were making the statement that you weren't going to push him away. It solidified something, showed him how much you were willing to sacrifice to keep him in your life, and again enforced just how much you loved him. If Rosemary hadn't been standing there, he would have sat you on the marble countertop and sucked another mark into your neck. The one he left yesterday was already starting to fade and he wanted to replace it as soon as possible.

But he was still angry, angry that Rosemary wouldn't give him a chance. "Your mother means everything to me." Ben says honestly. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. All I'm asking is that you get to know me first before you-"

"I don't want to get to know you." Rosemary says. "And if you hurt my mother again, I’ll make you wish that you stayed in that fucking lab."

She's gone in an instant, making Ben feel a pain in his chest that he hadn't felt since he spoke to his own father decades ago, on those nights when his dad got so drunk that he couldn't stand up straight and the nights that his father's words rang heavy in Ben's ears. Those nights Ben would get drunk, climb up the tree outside your window, and stumble into your bed, curling into you because you were the only thing in his life that he couldn't stand to lose, couldn't stand to disappoint, and the only thing in his shitty life that made him happy.

"Ben-" He hears you say.

"Mhmm?"

"Look at me."

Ben looks up. He doesn't like the worry in your gaze, doesn't like how your own eyes are just a little rimmed red like you were crying.

"I love you." You whisper. "And she's not going to change that."

"Are you sure?" He barely breathes the words, afraid in his soul to admit them to you, to speak them into the universe.

You drop into his lap, putting your forearms on his shoulders.

"Ben." You drag your fingers through his hair, your touch soothing his anxiety. "You know me enough to know that I don't pull punches. If I didn't want you here, I would make sure you weren't." You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I want you here with me. I don't want you to go ever again. "

They were the words that he wanted you to tell him on the nights he crawled through your bedroom window, the question that he was always afraid to ask. Because he never believed that you could want him even a fraction as much as he wanted you, could love him and want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with you. And yet here you were after all these years after all the shitty things he did accepting him and letting him into your heart.

“Okay.” He leans his forehead against yours for a minute. “What did you talk about?”

“Homelander. And what happened yesterday.” You sigh. “She’s about as thrilled as I thought she’d be with us going after our old team. She was pissed when I told her about Countess the other day but this was worse.” You mutter holding on tight to him. “She’ll get over it. At least… I hope she will.”

“Mhmm.”

“I will say that I’m kind of jealous.”

“About?” Ben is suddenly worried.

What did I do? Did I-

“Every time I tried to get you to draw with me you said no.” Ben watches you frown dramatically. “And here you are with another woman-“

Ben rolls his eyes and shuts you up by closing the distance between your faces. You laugh into his mouth, his tongue finding the rigid edge of your front teeth as you do before you fit your mouth against his and kiss him, your soft lips molding against his in a way that makes a deep seated groan vibrate up through his chest.

“You try saying no to her.” Ben mutters.

“It’s impossible.” You open your eyes to stare at him again, your gaze filled with more love than Ben had ever seen. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that before, none of the other women he’d had in his life had ever looked at him the way you did. And he never wanted you to stop. You looked at him like he was special, treasured, like he was something that you never wanted to stop looking at, like you saw every part of him and refused to turn away.

He'd only seen that once before. He had taken a woman out for drinks, you had been doing an interview that ran late and Ben was trying to pass the time, but at the bar he had seen an older couple sitting in a booth in the corner. Ben couldn't look away from them. They were sitting on the same side of the booth, the man's arm draped over the woman who leaned into him with a wide smile, her gray hair pushed back in an elegant twist, but she looked up at him with such reverence that Ben couldn't help but think of you. When he saw that he left the woman he came with there and went to your apartment, to wait until you got back. And when you had fallen asleep Ben had folded you into his arms and allowed himself to dream that one day you would look at him the same way.

And now years later here you were looking at him as if he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, the same way you looked at him the morning after your birthday when you told him you loved him.

"But I did tell you that once Lou drew you into the family portrait, you were in." You reach back to pick up the drawing holding it between the two of you so he can see Lou's hard work. "She really captured your frown." You snort, leaning your head against his shoulder while you look at the drawing.

"Shut up." Ben squeezes you, but he can't help but smile at the paper.

And deep down Ben started to believe you when you said that this was his family too, because sitting there with Lou he had felt just as at home as he had with you.

All he had to do was convince Rosemary.

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[30 MINUTES AGO] READER POV

I can't believe that she walked in on us IN BED. She's already pissed about me having him here, but why did her finding us together feel like the equivalent of my mother walking in on Ben and me?

You follow behind Rosemary silently, trying not to think of how sad Ben looked when you left him. You would have wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, curled up beside him and make him understand that no matter how much Rosemary wanted you to push him away, you weren't going to leave him.

You could see the fear flashing in his eyes, had seen it last night when he yelled at you. As much as he didn't want to admit it, you knew that Ben was still afraid that you would leave him. And knowing how much you meant to him made you love him even more.

It was a beautiful day. Legend's home was the only one within ten miles, his money well spent to keep himself secluded from the rest of the world. The large trees at the back of his home were tall and strong, their branches curling upward to the sun as if they wished to worship it.

The sunlight was warm on your shoulders, soaking through your t-shirt and sweat pants as you follow behind your daughter, who was obviously trying to get out of earshot of Ben's supe hearing. You didn't want to break it to her that you'd probably have to drive at least a mile away for Ben's hearing to get a little bit fuzzy.

Finally, just as you reach the crest of trees at the back of the lot she stops and turns back to face you.

She's frowning and waits a minute to begin. "I want you to tell me what happened."

"I did-"

"No. You didn't tell me everything and I want to know exactly what happened and why you had to fight Homelander."

You bite the inside of your cheek.

There really wasn't an easy way to sugar coat it or really explain it in a way that Rosemary would understand without getting angry.

She almost went ballistic the other day when I told her that I killed Countess and that was a complete accident. Us going after the Twins was not. Us going after the twins was calculated.

"Okay. Before we talk about that, I want you to understand why-"

"Oh you mean why you and Ben-" She seethes his name. "Were going after your old team? The exact thing that you told me you weren't going to do when you came to tell me about Countess?"

"Yes."

"Fine." She leans back against one of the trees, still frowning. "Go on."

"Ben told me what happened in Nicaragua. What Countess said was true, she seduced him to make me angry." You hold up a hand. "And before you say that Ben said those things to me and did those things of his own free will. I know."

Rosemary still doesn't look pleased.

"They betrayed him in Nicaragua. They attacked him and gave him to the Russian military."

"But why?"

"Honestly I'm not sure. I think it's because Ben used to be wild and impulsive and-"

"Used to be?"

"Just listen." You sigh. "He spent forty years in Russia being tortured and experimented on. They put something in his chest-"

"What did they put in his chest?"

"It's like an energy beam." You were giving her the short version about what the beam really did, because you didn't think that now was the best time to say that it might turn supes human. "But that's why we went to see the Twins, because they betrayed him and when Homelander showed up I had to step in."

Rosemary pinches the bridge of her nose and you can tell that she's trying very hard to not get angry. "So let me get this straight, you went to see the Twins, AS SOME KIND OF FUCKED UP REVENGE FANTASY?"

"Well-"

"No. My turn to talk." She holds up a finger like she's admonishing a toddler. "I can't believe that you can't see what's happening."

"See what?"

"You told me that things were different, that he'd changed but he hasn't! He's still the same angry dick! The only person that's changed is you!"

"What?"

"And you don't fucking see it!" Rosemary shouts. "You facing Homelander, you killing Countess, you going after your old team- it's all him! As soon as you got a whiff of Soldier Boy you started to slip back into the person that you were forty fucking years ago."

"That is ridiculous-"

"No it's not. And it's all him. He is the one making you throw the life away that you have made for yourself. He is the one making you use your powers again! He is the one making you go along with his ridiculous revenge plot-"

"Ben is not making me do anything!"

"He is-"

"You have no idea what that's like for people who say that they're your friends betray you. To have people who you thought trusted you give you up like that. They stabbed him in the back Rosie, and they sent him away to another country to be tortured. Do you have any idea what they did to him there? Our old team deserves everything that is coming to them."

"I don't know who you are anymore."

"I am still the same person I was. I am still me."

"No I don't think you are-"

Your jaw tightens. "Look, I understand that you're upset with this whole situation. With having to be here and with me letting Ben back into my life, but he is my family too."

She bristles when you say the word 'family.'

She has to understand that, to know that Ben is my family, is her family.

"Rosemary, do you have any idea what I would do for you if someone tried to hurt you or Lou the way they hurt Ben? What I would do to them for even trying?" You whisper it, but you can see her expression soften as she considers what you were saying. "You were angry with me because I was going to go to Russia alone. You wanted to protect me. And even all this stuff with Ben, you have been trying to protect me from him because you believe that he's going to hurt me again. How is this any different?"

“It is.”

“Why? Because he’s hurt me?” Your eyes lock with hers. “I’ve hurt you by letting him back in my life. Are you saying that now you wouldn’t protect me? That if I asked you to go with me to Russia right now you wouldn't do it.”

She stands there looking at you for a minute, letting what you've asked hang in the air between the two of you. And you know that deep down she understands the need to protect her family the same way you did.

"No. That's not what I'm saying. You depend so much on him and it's only been three days." She sighs. "Mom you were happy before-“

"No I wasn't." You mutter.

The memories of the last three days with Ben proved that. You hadn't realized just how in the hole you were until he walked back into your life. Until you felt how much you loved him and now understood how much he loved you. Waking up with him, falling asleep with him, spending time with him, seeing his smile, hearing him speak, and feeling him beside you all felt different. She was right, you did feel different. You felt lighter and warmer, like you'd mainlined sunshine, like everything else had been colorless until Ben walked back in.

You understood that now you may have tried to be happy, and you were with Rosemary and Lou, but not anywhere else. Being with Ben felt right.

Rosemary eyes you for a minute and then finally sighs. "I know."

"What?" You weren't expecting her to say that.

"He's been here only three days and you're-" She searches for the word reluctantly. "You're glowing."

"Huh?"

"My entire life I've watched you. I know you. You're my best friend. And I'm not saying that you haven't been happy, but with him you're a different person."

"You've already said that and it's not true. I'm still me-"

"Not about the supe shit." She shakes her head. "The way you look at him, the way you smile, the way whenever he shifts in another direction you do too like somehow you sensed it. And it scares me."

"Why does that scare you?"

"Because if he decides this is all too much and he leaves, I don't want to see the person you become when he does." She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. "I kinda feel like I've seen that person the last thirty nine years."

"That's ridiculous-"

"You told me about before, told me how you were when he left, I didn't see it, I couldn't imagine it, but now seeing you with him, understanding just how much of a hold he has on your life, understanding how much you love and care for him- mom… I see that the life you made for us, you still weren't you. I'm not sure if you were really completely happy and now seeing you with him, I-"

You place your hands on her cheeks. "Rosie. What happened forty years ago is not your fault. I would not change a single second that I spent with you and Lou. I do not regret the life that I've made with you. I do not regret you. I want you to understand that. The things that happened between me and Ben, even though they were fucked up, does not mean that I don't love you."

"I know that." She whispers, but you're suddenly unsure.

You thought that you'd expressed that to Rosemary enough over the years, that you did not regret having her, that you wouldn't change that decision.

"Rosie please." You hug her, tears burning just behind your eyes. "You are not a mistake. I love you." You pull back to look at her green eyes, the same as Ben's. "And I wouldn't change a single thing about my life. Because maybe I wasn't happy with me, but I was when I was with you and Lou."

"Okay." She pulls back with a sigh.

"I just wish that you'd try to talk to work things out with Ben." You search her face. You told yourself that you weren't going to get involved, but you wanted her to like him. He was her father and he was going to be spending time with you.

"Look I don't want to hate him, and maybe I don't, but it's not your fault." Her expression hardens. "He shouldn't have shouted at you yesterday for that. You didn't make me hate him or make him the villain. It's not your fault." She repeats.

"Maybe it is. I told you all those things about him, I made you focus only on the bad, only on the things that happened towards the end-"

Rosemary takes your hand. "Mom you told me everything. I remember the good things. I remember what your friendship was like. I remember the stories you told me when I was a kid about Ben and you running around Philadelphia."

"Which ones?"

"When he was strong for you when you couldn't be. When he took care of you, when he took you places, when he supported your art. When he made sure that you were happy. I-" She pauses. "I haven't forgotten those."

"Then why-"

"Because they happened before. When Ben was still Ben and not Soldier Boy. I've seen every single film. Watched every interview, commercial, and even those stupid music videos." Rosemary shakes her head as if trying to rid herself of the image.

"You have?"

"Yes. And I saw the person he became."

You knew what that looked like. Ben really did go all out for the cameras when they were rolling, but when it was the two of you he was just him. And the past two days he had shown that person to you all over again, and you knew deep in your heart that you were trusting him again.

"I know that you don't believe me when I say this, but he really is different."

"Sure."

You sigh. You knew that she wouldn't believe you, that she was just so hell-bent on pushing him away that she wouldn't listen to you. But you knew deep down that he was different, and that he was trying. It was enough for you.

Ben was enough. And the fact that he was willing to throw away all the macho bullshit he had spouted in the past, that he was willing to try to change to be the boy you fell in love with, meant everything to you.

You knew that you had probably forgiven him too early, but you wanted to believe him, and you wanted him to be back in your life.

Rosemary echoes your sigh and looks back up towards the house, stamping her foot in frustration. "Did you at least kick his ass?"

"Who? Ben? I told you that I threw him-" You begin to say suddenly confused.

"No." The ends of her lips twitch into a smile. "Homelander."

You laugh. "Yeah. They don't really make heroes the same way these days."

"Good. He probably fucking liked it."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." You snort remembering the look he gave you when you threw him against the ground. "But it was kind of cathartic to throw him around. I feel a lot better. Maybe you should give it a try." You narrow your eyes at your daughter. "I mean Homelander not Ben."

Rosemary's lips pull into a mischievous smirk, looking more like Ben than she ever has. "I'll keep that in mind."

********************************************************

READER POV

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, heart racing to catch up as you tug your arms to get them free, but leather restraints hold them in place at your sides. A cold chill seeps up through the metal table you lay on though the thin paper gown that covers your body. Brilliant light from fluorescent square lights above blinds you. And even when you shut them tight the flash of red that stays behind burns through your iris.

Shadows move just on the edge of your vision and you strain your ears to hear them speak, to understand why you're here, why you're strapped to this table, but the only thing that remains is a garbled sound broken only by the rapid ding of a heart monitor.

Where am I? How did I-

A sharp pain deep inside of you makes your breath catch, an uncomfortable sensation between your legs. You try to kick out, but your legs are strapped down, pried apart and bent at the knee. Your pleas for release are slurred as if you've forgotten how to speak.

Someone brings their hand down over your mouth and you bite down, blood and flesh sticking between your teeth and the person strikes your face savagely.

The shadows that pass over where you lay on your back are impossible to bring faces to and their muffled conversations are just out of reach.

And when you open your mouth to scream everything goes black.

"Y/n!" You hear Ben shout as you come to, his hands on your shoulders shaking you from sleep, but you can't move, can't speak still stuck in whatever hell-scape that your mind designed. "Please Sweetheart." He's leaning down over you, eyes wide with fear and anxiety, eyebrows pulled together. "Wake up."

"Ben-" You croak, breath coming in gasps, eyes blinking to focus on him above you.

Ben breathes out a sigh of relief, pulling you up into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Ben." You say again, tears falling from your eyes sobs shaking your shoulders, breath coming in gasps as you cling to him, holding on to him so tight you think you hear his back crack.

“Shhh. It’s alright Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here.” Ben murmurs into the top of your head, rubbing his hand down your spine.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had the nightmare, but it was the first time you’d had it in forty years. It had started a few years before Ben had been taken. You don’t know why, but you always assumed that it was stress of being a hero or your heartache over Ben refusing to see you as more than a friend, that finally you cracked. But you didn't know why that particular scenario. The only time that you'd seen something remotely similar was the day that you received your injection of Compound V and you figured maybe your mind created the dream to haunt you.

And now it’s back because I’m stressed about all this shit with Homelander.

You inhale the familiar scent of Ben’s cologne, tears soaking into the front of his black shirt, but it does little to calm your heartbeat. You sob again, arms wrapped around his neck holding him tighter to you as you shudder.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.” Ben says again. His hand trails gently down your spine up and down in a soothing motion to calm you down.

He’d comforted you before after the same nightmare, he knew exactly what you saw each time, but he also was confused as to why you saw it. In his arms you felt safe, as if no one else could touch you or pull you away. You wondered if Ben felt the same way when you held him.

“Shh.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, pushing back the strands of hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.

You shudder again, sweat sticking your shirt to your back, but your heartbeat begins to slow as you take in another breath.

“Same dream?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “I haven’t had it since you were-“ You choke on the words again as the images from what you saw come back. The mumbled voices of the figures fading in and out of your ears.

“Did you ever figure out what it was?”

“No. I-“ You inhale. “I don’t know. I-“

Your body shakes again as you cling to Ben, trying to forget the dream that never seemed to go away. “I don’t know.”

********************************************************

READER POV

In the days that followed Butcher and Hughie looked for Mindstorm's last known location, and Rosemary tried to stay as far away from Ben as she could, which wasn't too far because she refused to leave Lou alone with him. And Lou kept wanting to do more and more with Ben.

But you didn't mind that, because it meant that Rosemary got to sit front row to Ben trying to get more comfortable around Lou.

And try he was. He sat with her each day while she drew after breakfast, watched you and her paint side by side on Legend's back porch, waited patiently while you braided Lou's hair back from her face, and even indulged her in the occasional game of Go Fish that Ben always seemed to lose. But he didn't mind or at least not that you could tell.

"I understand that you all have this kind of fucked up fantasy when you go after Mindstorm," Rosemary sighed leaning back on Legend's dark brown leather couch with a beer in her hand. "But I still don't see how this is going to help us with Homelander."

Butcher shrugs taking a sip from his own beer bottle, brooding in the chair across from her. Hughie mirrors the shrug and reaches for the last slice of pizza in the ornate glass coffee table in front of the couch.

You were sitting on the couch beside her, your legs folded up underneath you with a mug full of scotch clutched between your hands, while Ben stretched out beside you nursing his own glass of whiskey.

In all the years that you had known Legend, there never seemed to be a shortage of booze. Ben respected that.

Lou was sleeping soundly upstairs, you kept checking on her every few minutes with your supe hearing, but so far she hadn't woken up.

"Because those two wanted us to go after their old team first." Butcher gestures to Ben and you with his bottle.

"At least we don't have a hard-on for Homelander." Ben frowns. "Can't tell if you want me to kill him or if you want to fuck him."

"Ben-" You sigh.

You had tried not to think about Homelander over the past few days, but it was unavoidable. You bite the inside of your cheek remembering what it was like to fight him, what it was like to hold him by the throat and stare into his nearly black eyes.

He had been pissed. You knew that, but you hadn't expected to feel so weird when you looked at him. You remember his blonde hair, the sharp smell of hair dye, the strong cut of his jaw-

Your thumb rubs the side of the mug you're holding. There was something else about him though, something that you couldn't place, something that when you looked at him you felt that you had forgotten something. Something important that nagged and tugged at the back of your mind.

But what? I've seen him before, at least not in person, and definitely not that close. Only in those pathetic interviews on T.V, on those stupid energy drinks…

You think again about the grip you had on his throat, remember the angular planes of his face.

"That doesn't fucking help." Rosemary rolls her eyes and you look up at your daughter.

She really does act like Ben even if he wasn't around through her childhood.

You think to yourself, your eyes tracing her face, looking at the soft dusting of cinnamon colored freckles over her cheeks that she usually hid under makeup and the nose that always reminded you of your father.

You think about Homelander again. But what did I forget? What about him made me-

Your entire body freezes as you stare at Rosemary's face, the face that you'd looked at for the past forty years.

No. That's impossible-

You can't breathe, can't think. Something cold clamps over your heart the chill soaking into your bones like you've sunk into deep water. All other sounds in the room fade into a muddled haze as you sit there and stare at her, eyes widening, heartbeat beginning to thud loudly in your ears.

Oh. My. Fucking. G-

The mug shatters in your hand, glass and alcohol going everywhere, but you don't feel anything. Only the sense of dread, and the chill that spreads with the coming storm and the understanding of what it is you've forgotten.

And you hoped to God that you were wrong.

*********************************************************

A/N: I'M BACK BABY! Honestly after a week off I am doing alot better. Thank you everyone for the love and support. I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's moving the story right on along and the next chapter is going to be BIG and BLOODY. But we'll make it through.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if you are already apart of the taglist and it didn't notify you, please let me know! :)

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rayraelleaizawa · 6 months

Note

There better be a part 2 of "they say something hurtful in an argument" where they realized they fucked up. I swear on God's name I will not stop crying if you don't.

P.s: very good writing keep it up! ❤️

Side Note: I didnt think that there would be so many requests on part 2, so thank you all for the requests and the support! It helps staying motivated to keep writing :) I hope you'll like this!

Making up after an argument

Part 1: They say something hurtful in an argument

Tags: hurt/comfort, slight angst, making up

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Dracule Mihawk

Shanks

He feels bad about what he said right after he saw that flash of hurt on your face, the sadness in your eyes and your quiet apology. Shanks immediately wanted to go after you when you left the room, but he was so wrung up in his blanket that he first had to untangle himself before he could go after you. He didnt care how he looked like, his shirt was all the way open, his pants were pulled up above his knee on one leg and on the other it hung down normally and his hair was a mess too. His shoes were completly forgotten somewhere in the room.

When he opened the door from his cabin with a rush and walked outside into the hallway, you were long gone. He instantly went looking for you, starting on deck and working all the way down.

His crewmembers, especially his closest friends, gave him weird looks and concerned stares, but he ignored all of their questions and just ran around looking for you. When he finally finds you, crying on the floor in a dark storage room, he felt a pang go through his heart.

He slowly came closer to you, not wanting to startle you, and started talking quietly.

"Hey, sweet cheeks" he said, sitting down next to you. "Is it alright if i touch you?" he said as he carefully laid his hand on your ellbow.

Seeing you in this state made him want to just wrap his arms around you, pull you close and kiss you all over and apologize to you a thousand times, but he held himself back. This wasnt what you needed right now.

When you didnt react to his touch, he laid his other hand on your shoulder. Shanks tried to catch your eyes, but your face was burried in your legs and your hands were shielding your head from him.

"Darling please look at me" he pleaded, and slowly you raised your head. He laid his other hand on your cheek and his warmth immediately comforted you, but you didnt want to give into his warmth. When Shanks saw your tear struck face and this unbearable sadness in your eyes, he mentally cursed himself for saying those reckless words.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I had no right to let my hangover frustration out on you. Please, forgive me. I love you, my sweet little dove" he tried to apologize.

"Am I really the reason?" you quietly asked, hiccuping from all the crying.

"What?" Shanks looked at you confused.

"Am I the reason why you keep drinking so much? Am I that insufferable?" you cried out, your body shaking at the thought.

"No, no! That wasnt what I meant, please, listen to me! You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I cant lose you. What I said was mean and a lie. Please believe me when I say I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me that I didnt mean those words."

Shanks was on the verge of crying himself. The thought that he made his partner feel so bad made him hate himself, swearing to never get this drunk again that he would hurt his lover. He was scared you'd leave him. He wanted to make you feel better, but that was a difficult task when he himself was the reason why you were crying and shaking on the floor. He carefully put his arms around you and placed you on his lap and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

"It's okay, cry how much you want. Be angry at me, hit me, let all your feelings out on me, I deserve it. But please" he swallowed hard "please dont be sad. Please dont leave me. Not because of my stupid mouth."

You looked up at him when he said that. You noticed his pained face and the fear in his eyes. A fear that he messed up for good. You still felt hurt, but you knew Shanks would never toy with your feelings like that. He was serious about this apology.

You pressed your head in his chest and your tears started to dry out. After a time of silence and him gently stroking your back, you murmered a "I love you, you drunk idiot" into his chest. Shanks felt a stone fall from his heart as he chuckled a bit, leaned down and kissed you on the head. "I love you too, so much pumpkin. I'll never hurt you again. I'll stop drinking so much. Pirate promise"

Benn Beckman

Beckman sighed for the seemingly hundreth time. He still stood on deck, leaning against the railing as he thought about what he had said. He didnt meant to hurt you, but he knew giving you a bit space for now was the right thing. When you calmed down he planned on talking to you, but right now he also needed to sort his own thoughts.

He regretted his words instantly after they left his mouth but the damage was done. He sighed again. Usually he would have smoked at least half a package of cigarettes by now, but he just couldnt bring himself to touch one. Those stupid things were the reason why he made his partner sad. No, bullshit. He couldnt blame anyone else than himself for this. He fucked up.

With one last sigh he left his place at the railing and went underdeck to find you. He had a guess where you were and what you'd be doing, so he went straight to your cabin. He calmed himself with a deep breath in and breath out before he knocked on your door and then slowly opened it.

He wasnt suprised at what he saw. You were at your desk, working away on whatever was laying on your table. Benn carefully stepped into your room and closed the door. You didnt give him any sign that you acknowledged his presence. He walked over to you and waited if you'd say something.

Benn wasnt sure how to approach, so he looked at the papers on your desk. When he saw how shaky your handwriting was and how the ink mixed with waterdrops at some places he sighed again, feeling helpess as he made his own partner cry.

"Hey, I'm sorry about what I said. It wasnt right of me. I let out my stress on you eventho you were only worried about me. I'm deeply sorry."

Benn apologized, but you didnt respond nor did you look at him. He got restless, the uneasy feeling in him became stronger with every second you didnt say anything. You were just writing away on your papers.

"Buttercup, please. I am really sorry. I didnt want to hurt your feelings. You know I love you deeply."

There was a begging undertone in Benns voice by now.

"You dont smell like smoke" was the only answere he got, and hearing your voice immediately eased his anxious feelings a bit.

"I just...couldnt bring myself to touch them" he admitted.

You turned to look at him.

"Maybe i should be upset because of you more often then?"

He breathed out as he sensed that you werent that upset at him anymore. There was a joking undertone in your words, but it was clear that you still were hurt. He laid his hand on yours and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please no. I cant handle this. I cant handle seeing you upset. I'm sorry, princess, i'll really try my best to smoke less. Please, I want to make things right again, I-"

He stopped when you laid your hand on his cheek, softly caressing it.

"I know that you're sincer when you start rambling, Benn Beckman."

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk knew he fucked up big time when he wanted to go look for you but couldnt find you. He noticed your belongings were gone, and then saw footprints leaving away from the castle. Your footprints.

It was starting to become night so he immediately ran after you, following your steps through the woods. He prayed the whole time that you were safe, that nothing happened to you, that you didnt get injured because of his inability to deal with his emotions the right way.

It started raining and it got darker and darker. He hoped he'll find you in time. The nights are cold and the animals in the woods can be even more dangerous at night. Mihawk ran even faster as raindrops hit him more frequently, and soon it was pouring down. His clothes were complety soaked, but he couldnt care less. All he could think of was to find you and bring you back to safety.

While Mihawk dashed throught the woods with experience, you on the other hand stumbled around without orientation. Now that the darkness started to rise, you couldnt see anything anymore. The trees were so close to each other that you couldnt orientate yourself on the stars, and barely any moonlight came through either.

You couldnt count anymore how often you tripped or fell down a slope. Your arms, legs and face were covered in small scratches as you continued to push trough. You werent even entirely sure where you were going, but all you knew was that you wanted to put as much distance in between you and Hawkeye as possible.

Tears still welled up at the thought of him. Those soft moments between you two all seemed like a lie. You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts and carried on. You kept on walking, but a root stood out of the ground and made you trip again. You fell and slithered down another small slope and just as you cursed to yourself you heard a noise.

You stayed quietly on the ground as you listened, not sure if you misheared. No, there were definetely steps. But they were too heavy to be from a human. And Mihawk wouldnt come either. So what was that?

Then you heard a sniffing sound and a roar. And that's when you also got your answer. It was a bear. You tried to stay as calm as possible, but soon you realized why the bear roared so much. You fell in between the bear and it's cup. Which was the worst thing you could do - get in between a mother bear and her child.

You slowly started to crawl backwards, but the mother bear roared again and you heard her coming closer. You tried to hold your breath as you saw her shadowy figure infront of you, and the moment the bear roared almost into your face, you tried to stand up and run away, but of course that didnt work with a bear in front of you. You fell on your butt and tried to ready yourself for the heavy impact with the bears paw which she had raised, when a tall figure was infront of you suddenly, holding a big sword you'd recognise everyhwere. Mihawk. He wielded his sword and cut the ground, and the bear mother and her cup both ran away.

When he turned to face you, you couldnt decipher what his facial expression meant. You sat there, on the ground, cuts all over you and wet from the rain as he suddenly quickly walked up to you. You wanted to stand up, to talk with him, but before you could even say his name he was on the ground with you, kissing you feverishly.

You were confused about what was going on suddenly, but Mihawk pressed you against him in a way you couldnt escape. Not that you really wanted to, cause you felt so many emotions in this one kiss. Fear, anger, sadness, relieve... it seemed like all of those pent up emotions he couldnt let out came through in this kiss.

After what seemed like eternity did he break the kiss, panting as he looked at you.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad you're alive. I- I love you."

Was all he said and you looked at him in shock. It was a rare treat to hear those words from him, and you didnt expect to ever hear them again. But here he was, saving you in the middle of the night, telling you his feelings.

"I-I know that you're always worried when I leave. I just didnt know how to break it to you when i had to leave for so long. I not only see the disappointment and worry in your face, I also see fear and sadness whenever i leave. I just...I didnt know how I should tell you that I had to leave for months, fighting some idiots without seeing you all sad about the fact that I might not come back? That's why i left without saying anything. I know i hurt you, my love. I know I said something cruel back in the castle. But this castle is not my home when you arent in it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didnt know how to express myself. Please, forgive me. I'll work on it."

You only stared in shock as Mihawk talked about his feelings so much. But then a small smile broke out on your lips.

"You're an idiot. But you're my idiot."

He didnt respond, he only blushed which you didnt see in the dark nights, but then he picked you up and started carrying you back to your home.

#akagami no shanks #benn beckman #red hair shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #beckman #benn beckman x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece #one piece shanks #beckman x reader #hawkeye

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luciferlightbringer · 7 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 11

Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Chapter 12|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.8k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, sexual tension, kissing, light teasing smut

Lucifer laid up in his bed the room up in the apple shaped penthouse that was made just for him at the upper left side of the hotel. He had made this room thinking he was be here more often, and then he stopped coming. The last few weeks may had been more tolerable if he had been here... Oh well, too late for that. Now he laid there thinking of the things the hotel people had said about you and him. Could there really be a way of fixing this?

Lucifer sighed, he was really trying not to get his hopes up. He wanted to be able to get a chance to fix things with you, pick things back up with you, if you would let him, he was willing to do practically anything to make things right with you. He'd fight 100 Adams and Alastors at the same time just for the chance to hold you again. But all he could do was lay there, in his bed, wondering if Charlie and Angel were talking to you. Would you be mad? Would you give him a chance to talk to you again? Would the report back from this exchange be the last he ever hears about you?

After what felt like hours, he heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Lucifer called out.

"Dad, it's me! Can I come in?" Charlie called from the other side of the door, Angel next to her and you a few steps back.

Your heart was racing, and hearing his voice on the other side of the door made it so much worse.

"Ya!" Lucifer yelled back, still staring at the ceiling. Charlie entered his room followed by Angel, you stayed outside of the door just out of view. "How did it go? Is she ok? Was she mad?" Lucifer asked Charlie and Angel, the pain laced in his voice was apparent. It broke your heart to hear it, but it made you feel less anxious to hear him prioritize concern for you. Care... as always.

"It went well, Dad, so well in fact... that we have someone here to see you," Charlie said, turning to the doorway.

Lucifer froze as he heard another pair of footsteps enter the room. He slowly sat up to meet your gaze, those beautiful (e/c) eyes, so full of their same gentleness and care, but also indescribable pain.

"(y/n)", he whispered, as if we was afraid that saying you name too loud might make you disappear.

You smiled, "Hi Lucifer," you said softly in return, his name sounded like music dripping from your lips. No malice, no anger, something... soft and beautiful, like you had been holding your breath for years and in saying his name you finally felt like you could exhale.

All you could do was stare at each other and take each other in. Charlie and Angel smiled at each other, then looked at you both as they started to back up.

"We'll just... give you too some space to talk," Charlie said, and then closed the door behind her and Angel. They pumped their fists with a quiet "Yes!" before running downstairs to tell the rest of the hotel crew what was going on.

You and Lucifer were now alone.

The air was tease and silent, neither of you knowing who should speak or make the first move.

At the moment you started to open your mouth, Lucifer moved to slip off the bed and onto his knees on the floor, hands on the ground in front of him and forehead pressed against his hands... bowing to you?!

"(y/n), darling... I... I'm sorry, I'm so... so sorry... Please... please believe when I say I don't remember what happened that night. I was drunk, I was nervous... I- I can't forgive myself for whatever I could hav-", Lucifer rambled as he started to shake as he kept his deep bow on the floor.

"Lucifer..." you say softly cutting him off, he jumped up a little, your voice suddenly being much closer than her expected. He looked up to see you on your knees in from of him, tears also starting to well in your eyes.

"You didn't hurt me that night," you said, tears starting to fall.

"I- I didn't?" he said through tears.

"No!" you cried, "I thought I had mad you mad and that's why you didn't call for me."

Lucifer's eyes went wide, "What?! No, of course not! I was so scared, I couldn't remember what happened that night and then I got a call from the Lounge that you were calling our appointments and I was banned from seeing you!"

"No! No, Lucifer I never banned you. You never hurt me, I- got scared, I was worried, you weren't acting like yourself, you were so drunk... you told me something... and I... I- I didn't know what to do... so I just ran! I ran and I disappeared for a little to figure things out. I came back and I waited, I waited and their was nothing! I thought you hated me and were done with me!"

"No! Never, never! Hells, Duckie, I've been a mess without you! I need you!" Lucifer cried. You and Lucifer were both a mess of hysterical tears at this point, and you collapsed into an embrace as you cried, reassuring each other through heavy sobs that you were not mad or upset at the other. It was a deep cry that you had both deeply needed in the arms of the other.

After several minutes, both of you started to calm down, tears still falling but now they were able to talk without heaving as hard through their sobs.

"So... what happened, exactly? Tell me your side of it all, please..." Lucifer finally choked out. You took a few more deep breaths before starting.

"You... you showed up at my apartment... you were drunk, stumbling, had a hard time teleporting. You were sweet but very touchy, you got more drunk and touchy as the night went on. I thought you were having a really bad day, then I thought you were nervous about may wanting to try being intimate again. But then... you told me something... something I didn't know how to respond to... I was scared about responding to it the wrong way, especially because you are the King and I am just a prostitute... I didn't know if you actually cared about me, even though it always felt like you really did, and the power dynamic was just so... confusing... so I pushed you away. I ran, I disappeared on a trip for a few days to think about things, to give us space in case... well, in case I had upset you... You were supposed to be told I was just on vacation for a few days... but it sounds like you were told something else... something to split us apart," you explained, looking down at Lucifer who was snuggled back into his old position in your lap. Lucifer nodded as he listened to your explanation. "I came back, and I waited for you to schedule... and you never did. I had no way to check in with you... and I didn't want to overstep in your life by expecting a real connection if I had just misread things, or going to the hotel to ask Charlie, especially because I wasn't supposed to tell anyone... I was just so confused."

Lucifer tightened his fists in his lap, what is it that he had told you that made you so scared? That would make you run but that had also apparently not hurt you. "I'm sorry I made you keep this a secret for so long, I didn't realize how much it was hurting you... both of us... I guess I just let my pride really get in the way, and that was stupid," Lucifer paused, "Whatever I told you that night... was it bad?" Lucifer asked looking up at you.

You took a deep breath, "It's ok, I understood why you wanted it to stay quiet, I never held that against you. And...no, not bad, but it did scare me. I didn't know what to think of it."

"Can... can you tell me what I said?" Lucifer asked with big worried eyes.

You thought for a moment, this was the part you were most scared of at this point. This is where everything could fall apart again. "Can you tell me your side of things first, before I do?"

Lucifer swallowed hard, not liking how you were dodging the question, but he nodded.

"Ok," Lucifer started, "I... was really nervous that day, for a while... I'd been wondering how much of your care was real versus an act. It hadn't felt like it had been fake for... well I mean it really had never felt fake. I remember... I wanted to ask you or tell you something related to that. I had talked to a friends about that earlier in the day..."

"Asmodeus?" you asked.

"Yes! Did I say something about him? About that conversation?" Lucifer asked.

"You said he started dating someone, but not to tell anyone. I never have," you replied.

'Wow, why was that the point I had brought up? I really was out of it,' he thought.

"Well, anyways, he encouraged me to talk to you, but I had a drink to calm myself down because I was so nervous, but one became two, became four became... way too many..." Lucifer continued sheepishly, "And then I couldn't remember the rest of the night, I woke up the next morning with a crazy hangover, trying to jog my memory, and then I got the call from the Lounge. They did tell me that you were on vacation... but then added that "the truth" was that you had put me on your ban list, that you had come back saying you "couldn't take this shit anymore" and that you were a good actor, that you were a heartbreaker, that you would "even break the King's heart if you had the chance".

You gasped and more tears welled up in your eyes, "Lucifer, it's not true! You have to believe me," you hugged Lucifer tightly in your lap, "That's not who I am, yes I can act, but I swear I haven't ever once lied to you!"

Lucifer held your face, "I know."

You stared down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks, "You do?"

He nodded, "I didn't in the moment, when the call happened, but the others did. Husk and Angel. The whole damn hotel sat me down to have an intervention to set me straight. I was still hesitant, but between your reaction now and them... I believe you. You do care about me, you always have."

"Yes, of course I care about you!" you say holding his face with one hand. Lucifer smiled and nuzzled his face into your hand.

"Lucifer, the person you talked to on the phone. Do you remember anything distinct about them? Their voice or the way they talked," you asked earnestly.

Lucifer thought, "I remember it was a feminine voice, very hissy ssssss sounds the entire time they talked."

You saw red, that was all the proof you needed.

"Cynthhhhia," you snarled. Lucifer's eyes widened, he had never seen you mad before.

"Who is Cynthia?" Lucifer asked, an edge in his voice.

"She is the biggest bitch at the Lounge, the girl I always talked about cutting down to size? That's her. She was on phone's that day as a punishment for hurting me the night I ran back to the Lounge," you seethed, "Larry must have stepped away and she must have a had enough time to slip you that lie..."

Lucifer sat up more in your lap, eyes turning red, "You think this Cynthhhhia bitch lied to get us apart? Why?"

"Yes... she always hated that I was getting paired with more "high rollers" as we would call them, well-off powerful people, she hated that I was more popular with customers than her... she must have taken the opportunity to sever our relationship to make me suffer..." you stopped as Lucifer got up from your lap stepping a few feet away from you breathing heavily with his hands balled into tight fists, "Lucifer?"

You watched as the air seemed to shake around him, his wings snapped out from his back and started to flap, his eyes burned with blind rage as this horns and tail erupted from his body, a flame appearing above his head, his claws growing large and sharp. Flame escaped from his mouth as with a demonic voice Lucifer bellowed, "HOW DARE THAT BITCH SEVER YOU FROM ME?! HER LIVE IS FOREFIT. I WILL GRIND HER BODY TO DUST. I WILL BEAT THE AFTERLIFE OUT OF HER. I WILL RIP HER APART WITH MY BARE HANDS AND FEED HER TO THE CANNIBALS. I FASHION HER FLESH INTO BOOTS. I WILL..."

You ran up and wrapped your arms around Lucifer's waist, the air stopped rumbling, his body started to relax, his flames dissipated, and he looked down at you with a softened eyes, still glowing.

"Lucifer please, I'm mad too... but please stay with me. She's not worth the energy! You can turn her into snake jerky boots tomorrow!" You say, clinging to him tightly, "I need you here now..."

Lucifer blinked back to his regular red eyes before letting himself drop back to the ground, wrapping his arms back around you, "I'm sorry, Duckie... I'm just so mad that one lie over a phone call caused so much pain for you and I..." he pulled away a little and cupped your face with one hand, "I just want to make her pay for what she has done to us."

"I do too," you say carding your fingers through his hair, "I'm sure the others would too, I'm looking at you readers, but... how about we ruin her day tomorrow. Ok? Let's not let her ruin this, she's not worth it."

Lucifer hummed into your touch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to revert back to his normal soft appearance, "Ok... on one condition," he said opening his eyes again to look into yours.

"What would that be?" you ask nervously.

"Tell me what it was that I told you. Please?" he asked with bright eyes.

You looked away briefly and then met his gaze again, you felt your face grow hot, "You sure? You're not going to get mad?"

Lucifer gave you a confused smile, "Why would I be mad at you for telling me something I said to you? Just... tell me." Lucifer still held you in a close embrace, looking into your eyes.

You breath deeply, and look down at Lucifer, "You... you told me that you loved me."

Both of your faces turned bright red as you starred at each other in tense silence.

'Are you shitting me? I told her I loved her while I was shit face plastered?! Fuck, ya... ok her reaction makes sense now' Lucifer thought.

"Oh... golly... haha... I can see why that might make you uncomfortable" Lucifer said looking away from you with a nervous laugh.

You look at Lucifer, noticing deep blush running across his pale cheeks, and smiled. You steeled yourself for the next question.

"Did you mean it?" you asked.

Lucifer looked up into your eyes, studying your face. This was the moment he had wanted so many weeks ago, this was how it was supposed to feel. Vulnerable, terrifying, but the only place he ever wanted to be. This was the moment that would change everything, but now, he knew she cared, this would not be the end of everything.

"Yes, (y/n), I love you. I've loved you for months."

You heart swelled with joy to hear him say it this time, and with him being sober and so nervous, all of your worries from the past didn't matter now. You couldn't keep your eyes from welling with tears of joy. You moved your hands up to Lucifer's face to hold his soft cheeks.

Lucifer sat in swirl of emotions as he watched you react to his statement, 'Does she... feel the same?'

"Well..." Lucifer got out, before freezing up, trying to figure out what to say.

You laughed, "I... I love you too, Lucifer."

Lucifer's eyes go wide, taking a moment to process your words, before he moves without thinking, pulling you in closer and pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss sent waves of electricity through both of your bodies. You had kissed a lot of people for work, but nothing had ever felt like this before. You felt gripped by a want to fuck Lucifer in a way you had never wanted to fuck someone before, you ached for him, you ached for only him. In that moment you were ruined for watching to touch another soul ever again. Your tongues explore each other's mouths, passionate and desperate, as if you both relied on the other to breath.

After a few minutes, you both break the kiss, pressing your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Fuck..." Lucifer heaved, "That was amazing... You are amazing."

You laugh, tracing a finger down Lucifer's chest, "Just wait til, I get me hands on the rest of you... If you want that... of course."

Lucifer's eye glazed over with pure lust as he looked you over, "Oh, Duckie... I have wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and take you to Heaven since the day I met you... but I don't want to be selfish and I feel like I would want to be. I want you to be mine, all mine, only mine," he purred into the skin of your neck. You tip your head back and let your eyes roll back with the pleasure of the sensory.

"Then you can, have me," you say. Lucifer gives you a look.

"I'm all yours, I'll quit the Lounge, move into the hotel like I wanted, and I will be only yours, if you'll have me," your eyes looked with Lucifer's.

He smiled, putting his forehead against yours, "I accept, you will be mine and I will be yours. Tomorrow, we will go down to Lounge, give them your 2 minute notice, and then... we make that little bitch Cynthhhhia rue the day she ever messed with us." Lucifer planted another long passionate kiss on your lips.

"But for now... I get the feeling that we may have some people downstairs that want to see the results of our conversation. What do you say?" Lucifer said, offering you his arm. You smile and take his arm, going out the door and making your way downstairs to the hoops and hollers of your hotel friends, especially when Lucifer kissed you again in front of all of them.

You spent the rest of the night partying and talking with the hotel crew until you grew tired. Then, Lucifer picked you up and took you up to his room in the hotel, where you and Lucifer fell asleep in either others arms again, the way you would every night from then on.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, you wake up, tightly snuggled against Lucifer's chest, and you look up to see him unabashedly looking down with love filled eyed at you and running his fingers through your hair. He smiled warmly as your eyes met his.

"Good morning~" he cooed as he dipped his head down to kiss your lips. Your bodies moved closer to each other as you kissed, starting to get drunk off of the taste of the other. Your face and chest grew hot and red, until eventually Lucifer broke the kiss you hold your face, staring into each other's dilated eyes. Lucifer was pleased by the love drunk look on your face.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would take you as a pent up, untouched virgin instead of a seasoned sex worker with the way you're reacting to a simple kiss," Lucifer says smugly, taking in the deep red tone of your cheeks and the glazed look of your eyes.

"Well... I mean... I may have had plenty of physical intimacy... but it's always been for money, survival... this, however~" you says as you pull him in for another deep, desperate kiss, hand running down the side of his body before stopping on his thigh, releasing him from the kiss while keeping your lips as close to his as possible without touching. "This is something completely different entirely... unbridled desire like I've never felt in life or death... and I'm famished," you whisper.

Lucifer swallowed hard, blinking hard as his own face burned red and he felt himself get more dizzy and love drunk on your words. "Fuck... oh, Duckie... I want to do... so... many... sinful things to you. I have for months... but I do think we should prioritize taking care of your status at the Lounge... and that bitch... Because I don't know about you, but..." Lucifer rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, lowering his head to be next to your ear, "when I finally get to fuck you... I want you to be mine. Only... mine... Don't you agree, my Apple?" he planned a soft kiss on your neck.

You're breathing was ragged, your heart pounded in your chest, you had never been so turned on in your life. You couldn't even speak, all you could do was nod.

Lucifer looked down at you, committing the image of your body beneath him to memory before sighing, chuckling a little, giving you a kiss on both checks and then on the lips before getting off of your and getting up to start getting dressed.

You had to take a minute to let yourself breath for a minute before getting up. Lucifer smuggly looked at you over his shoulder as he buttoned up his vest, "You doing ok over their~?" he cooed.

"Shut up," you say playfully. 'Fuckkkkkk', you thought, how was this the same man that wanted to be dominated so desperately the first night you met? Should have known he was a bratty switch. He was really proving his status as the Sin of Pride with that smug ass attitude this morning, and goooooodddd was it hot.

Eventually you did get out of bed and got dressed for the day, Lucifer giving you a longing look as you did. Before long, it was time for you and Lucifer to head to the Lounge, together. Others from the hotel had learned about the reason for the miscommunication and lack of contact with you during the celebration the night before and many people wanted to come with to watch the confrontation unfold. So soon, you, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel, Cherri, Niffty, and even Alastor, much to Lucifer's dismay, were ready to make your way out to the Entertainment District. Husk and Vaggie also wanted to go, but someone needed to stay behind and man the hotel, so they just asked for a play by play of the events when everyone returned.

"Ready everyone?" Lucifer called out before tapping his cane on the ground, opening a portal right in front of the Lounge. Lucifer offered you his arm, which you took before stepping out of the portal onto the street in front of your place of work, followed by all of your friends. Immediately upon stepping out onto the street, onlookers started to look, whispers, point, and take pictures as they saw the King with you on his arm, followed by the Princess, a famous Porn Star, and the Radio Demon, with Niffty and Cherri tagging along.

Lucifer opened the door to the Lounge and walked in, striding up to the front counter with you on his arm. Larry turned around to greet the new customers just to find himself facing the King of Hell and company.

"Y-your highness, with (y/n), and the Princess, Angel, t-the Radio Demon, and... uhhh," Larry stopped looking down at Niffty.

"Hi! I'm Niffty!" Niffty gave a sharp smile while waving a knife in her hand. "And I'm Cherri Bomb," she added.

Larry blinked looking at Niffty before looking back up at Lucifer, "Right... uhh... Your Majesty," he bowed, realizing the should have done that the first time. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? And with one of my girls," he said shooting you a quick 'What the hell is happening here?!' look.

"Haha, well! You must be Larry! Let me introduce myself to you my fine man. Hi," Lucifer says extending his hand to Larry, "I'm Lance", Lucifer said, darkening his eyes.

"Oh!" Larry said shaking his hand before the realization kicked in, "Oh..." he looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then back at Lucifer, "OOohhhhhhh...." Larry let go of Lucifer's hand, his body starting to shake a little.

Lucifer smirked and wrapped an arm around you, "We were wanting to talk to you able a... troubling customer service issue that miss (y/n) and I experienced a few weeks ago that interrupted my services with her... if you have the time that is..." Lucifer said with as smile in his face that did not reach his rage filled eyes.

Larry panicked, "Uh.. uhh yes! Of course! Uhhh... would you like to come back to my office or..."

"Oh, no, my good sir, out here is just fine," continuing his sharp smile, looking out at the sea of girls and customers watching the interaction with growing interest.

"O-Ok, ya sure," Larry clears his throat, "So, uhh... what seems to be the issue?"

"Well... you see... your associate here and I had not scheduled any appointments for the last few weeks due to a... concerning miscommunication issue. You see, while this one was out on her much deserved vacation, I was called and told that she was out for a few days... but then they corrected themself and told me I was banned from scheduling with her again... but that I was free to utilize the services of other girls," Lucifer said distain slowly slipping into his voice, his smile starting to strain.

Larry's expression changed from fear to frustration, "Oh... that is troubling, I can confirm that (y/n) did not express any desire to ban you, sir. I apologize... I had no idea that happened... You... wouldn't happen to know who it was that you talked to that day, would you?"

"I didn't catch a name, but it was someone with a feminine voice and elongated "S"s.... kinda... serpentine sounding. You... wouldn't happen to know of anyone on your staff that would fit that description... would you?" Lucifer said, his smile now fully flat with half opened, unenthused eyes.

Larry balled his hands into fits, "As a matter of fact, your highness... I do... I'll... be... right back..." Larry made his way to the back to find the girl that matched the description, the sea of people parting as he lumbered through.

Lucifer looked up at you and winked, "Showtime" he mouthed to you. You smiled back at him as you started to hear the familiar screams of Cynthhhhia as Larry dragged her up to the front lobby, tossing her on the floor in front of Lucifer and you.

"AAHHHHH!!! Larry what the fuck! I wasssss in the the middle of a sssssession! What's the big ide-" Cynthhhhia finally looked up to Lucifer and you standing in front of her, glaring down at her, with his arm around your waist at his side. "Ohhhhh! Y-your highness, itssssss and honor, w-wha-what is thisssss all about?" She tried to smile at him, here eyes darting to you and to the others watching around the room.

"Apparently, a few weeks ago, you had a little of a communication issue with Mr. Morningstar here, or should I say... Mr. Lance... Care to explain, Cynthhhhia?" Larry hissed through clenched teeth.

"Lance, wha-" Cynthhhhia finally remembered, she now looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then him. Then she looked back at Larry, then around the room, to Charlie and Angel, then back to Lucifer. In that moment, she didn't not understand how this happened, but she knew she was absolutely fucked.

"Well... I feel like you already know... but I'll just ssssay it. I lied, I lied to Lanc-Lucifer... about (y/n)'sssss vacation, I had no one around ssssso I told him he had been banned, he didn't ask any questionsssss and didn't try sssssscheduling another appointment... Ssssso I reported that I had called and that he would call back to ressssschedule... I thought I was in the clear..." Cynthhhhia said looking at the ground, then looked up again, "I guess there were sssssome factorsssss that I didn't not account for.."

"Ya! Like us!" Angel added.

"Like her developing friendships and bonds during her time with my dad that cared to ask why she was not around anymore, and we figured out that these two had two very different understandings of why they were not able to see the other," Charlie said with a triumphant smile, gesturing to her dad and you.

"Cynthhhhia, why would you do this?" Larry asked coldly.

Cynthhhhia hissed, "For the same reason as alwaysssss, I hated her sssssuccesssss! I saw a chanccccce and I took it. The real question issss, why did you all care sssssso much. She's is just a ssssstupid, ssssselfish, fake, whore!"

In an instant, Lucifer's demon form emerged, horns, wings, red eyes, tail and all, and he flicked his sharp tail to her neck, lifting her head to meet his gaze, "Because my dear, ssssssweet, idiot," he spat, "She is actually none of those things. She is the kindest, sweetest, warmest, most loving, and selfless woman I have ever met, and because of that... I fell in love with her."

The room gasped, including Cynthhhhia and Larry. "You're little stunt simply caused us to be apart before we could talk it out. Thanks to my daughter, we figured it out, we figured you out. So now... my question for both of you is... how do we rectify this.. little problem? This certainly caused myself and my love much grief over the last few weeks, and it sounds like this putrid snake was causing my dear problems long before that at this establishment... and I simply cannot let that stand," Lucifer said, starring daggers into Cynthhhhia's soul.

"Well uhhh... as far as I can control... Cynthhhhia is fired from my establishment and will be backlisted from every brothel and porn studio in the Pride Circle effect of immediately, she will be kicked out of housing with us, and I will turn a blind idea to anything that becomes of her outside of this establishment... Does that seem fair?" Larry asked. Cynthhhhia seethed on the ground.

Lucifer smiled, "A good start but not enough, there is more I will require, and I have a list of demands."

Larry shifted uncomfortably, "Of course your highness, what would those be?"

Lucifer looked at you and smiled, "I request the release of (y/n) from her work contract here, as well as her housing contract," Lucifer looked back at Larry, "She will not be needing to be here anymore now that she is with me."

Larry made a displeased face, and looked at you "Is this what you want Babydoll?"

You nodded, "It has nothing to do with you, Larry, you have been good to me..." you look to Lucifer and the others, "I just finally found where I belong... and I need to see where this goes."

Larry nodded, "Consider it done. I'll miss you, kid."

Lucifer nodded, "Well..." he clapped his hands, " I guess we are done here then! Duckie, I will have your stuff taken out of your old room and moved to the hotel. As for you," Lucifer said looking down at Cynthhhhia, who was on the floor trying to crawl away, but froze in place when addressed, "We are not quiet through with you." Lucifer wrapped his tail around her waist and pulled her along as he walk out the door, followed by the other hotel crew and some interested patrons and girls.

Cynthhhhia screamed as she was dragged and tossed out onto the street in front of Lucifer and the others.

Lucifer looked to you with a slight bow, gesturing towards Cynthhhhia, "My darling, would you like to do the honors?" he purred.

You shrugged, "I don't really wanna touch her, but I'll start her off," you say stretching your arms as you walked towards her.

Cynthhhhia cowered and pleaded with you, you wound up your arm and slugged Cynthhhhia in the face, sending her flying back several feet. You were met with a crowd of cheers and yelps, Lucifer nodded approvingly at your punch. Lucifer next rolled up his sleeves and pummeled her into the ground a few dozen times before getting up staying he had enough. Cynthhhhia was still conscious, but barely.

Lucifer then offered the chance up to the rest of the crew. Niffty ran up and gave her a few quick stabs, then to your surprise, Alastor stepped forward with a sinister grin on his face. You and Lucifer gave each other a confused look, then looked back at him.

"Now Cynthhhhia, darling, as much as I enjoyed seeing how much torment your little stunt caused, I do say I that I am not very fond of how it impacted the overall morale of the hotel, and I simply cannot have that," Alastor said as his horns and body started to grow larger and more sinister, his face turning more into the radio face you had seen it become before in battle. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm going to need to make an example out of you, to show everyone what happened when you mess with the Hazbin Hotel and it's residents. And besides! ...my radio broadcast has been in need of some new screams!" Alastor laughed maniacally before engulfing Cynthhhhia in his mystical black tentacles and carried her off to be ripped apart and have her screams added to his collect on his broadcast.

You and the other's starred off after Alastor in horror as he took of with Cynthhhhia. "Wow..." you said, "That uhhh... that was not the ending to her I expected. But I'll take it!" You smiled looking at Lucifer who smiled and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your waist, pulling you into a dip and kissed you deeply for all of Hell to see.

"Come on," he said breaking from the kiss, "Lets get you home."

Home.

You liked the sound of that.

______________________________________________________________

One last chapter I think! And IT.WILL.HAVE.SMUT. xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢) @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc @wolfdaddyalphasworld @sleepypottersworld @wisterialagoon @theredviolets @theperfectmangovoid @lemonmoonmochi @sapphireravensworld @ezi0724 @undertalephanjackandmark-blog

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #lucifer smut

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syoounn · 5 months

Text

𝓐𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾...

•BSD men with their drunk s/o

•Characters: Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma

٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•٭.×٭

Chuuya

After you went partying with your friends.. it's not surprising that you were drunk and, of course... Chuuya has to take you home.

Once both of you arrived, he laid you down on the couch and started to take off your shoes.

"Doll.. I told you not to drink too much.." He said as he sighed.

"I'm not drunk.. just.. uhhhhh" You were completely dizzy and can't think straight as all you can think you were lying on the soft sofa.

"Yes you are."

Chuuya sighed again and sat down next to you, ruffling your head a bit.

"Maybe you need a sober-up kiss?" He said.

"I'm not reaaally drunk...!" you said, slurring your words as you eyelid slowly getting heavy.

"Mhm sure. You barely can speak."

Chuuya chuckled the way you protested was adorable he then leaned in close to your face.

"You want this kiss or not?"

You were too drunk to think and couldn't really understand much of what Chuuya was saying, as you squeezed Chuuya’s cheeks as you were sleepy.

"You're so haaandsooome..~" you said, giggling and smiling.

Chuuya smiled and then leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender and gentle. He pulled back after a few seconds and smirked, chuckling slightly.

"Feeling more sober now?"

"Nooo..." You said as you cling to him more, and feeling his warm body makes you more sleepy.

"Hmh. thought so"

Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully and then laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in his arms. He then waits for you to fall asleep.. and kept thinking of how adorable you were as that was what makes him love you more.

Fyodor

You saw a bottle of wine at the table.. you never really saw Fyodor drinking as you decided to take a sip, not knowing this wine was strong.

As you heard the door opened.. You saw Fyodor as he smiled at you.. "Myshka.. forgive me, i couldn't return home early.."

"Hmm.. Welcomeee home..!~" You said in your drunk state and smiling warmly.

Fyodor takes one look at you and there slurred speech. "My, you have been drinking Myshka?.. Perhaps you drink that wine i prohibited you to drink, have you?"

You were in trouble as you forgot about that. You were just curious and take a sip.. you don't know what happened next, and how did you end up feeling heavy and sleepy.

Fyodor lets out another gentle chuckle and slowly walks over to you, his dark eyes locked onto yours and his expression one of slight amusement.

"It is written all over your face, dear. Fyodor frowns, then walks up to you. "Don't play dumb with me."

He said as his tone was getting serious.. and you realize you were really in a big trouble. A dark look slowly takes hold of Fyodor's face as he walks over and sits beside her, his voice taking a sharp tone.

"You can't fool me, dear. This time, you might just have to face a punishment."

You can feel the coldness in his voice as you look at him frowning..

"Im.. sorry.." You said with a pleading look.

"You were told not to drink without my permission. My, my, you've been disobedient, aren't you?" He said sighing..

"Therefore, I must admit, you really are much more... malleable in this state.." His hand lands on your cheek and turns your head to face him as his other hand cups your chin. "In fact, I believe it would be quite fun to spend the rest of the evening with you like this. You're so adorable right now.."

He spoke again, leaning closer to you. "Shall we have fun tonight, Myshka?" Before you could even speak, your sleepiness took over, and you were completely falling asleep.

Fyodor merely chuckles and, with an expert hand, carries you into the bedroom and carefully lays you down on the bed.

"Sleep well.. Myshka.."

Sigma

You were tired of waiting to Sigma to get over from work, so you decided to head to his office.. but before you can even go, you spotted a bar as you decided a few drinks wouldn't hurt, right?

As Sigma finished his work, he saw you stumbled across the hallway. Sigma’s expression dropped almost immediately as he saw you walk towards him while stumbling. He panicked almost immediately and began to walk faster to meet you halfway. He looked slightly worried as he reached you.

"Are you alright, love.." He said his arms, wrapping around you as he looked at you with concerned eyes. He later realized you were drunk as you smelled like alcohol.

You smiled as you nuzzled your face to his neck and clinging to him.

"Hm.. you smell so nice.. i missed you.." You said still clinging to him.

Sigma’s grip around you tightened to stop you from possibly falling over.

“Of course you did love.” Sigma said as he smiled, “But you should listen to me when I tell you to wait for me.” Sigma chuckled once more before speaking again. “Did you drink while I was gone, love?”

"Noo..." You said, looking at him sleepy.

Sigma smiled at you as he stroked your hair.

“Come now, I don’t believe you.” Sigma said. “And you already look so tipsy.” Sigma chuckled again as he looked at you, and headed to your shared bedroom Sigma would then gently place you on the bed and lay you down gently, once you were down he would cuddle up beside you and wrap his arms around you while pulling you closer to him.

“There you go.” He said softly as he sighed and looked into your eyes as he thought you looked so adorable looking drunk and sleepy.

“You should take a nice sleep, love.” Sigma whispered softly as he continued to cuddle up against you. His breath would hitch occasionally as he started to become a bit tired as well.

You've stared at Sigma’s face for a while, admiring him.. as he noticed.. a slight blush appeared on his cheeks as he smiled softly at you and kissed your forehead.

"I love you.." You said as he smiled softly after hearing your words of affection, despite you being drunk.

“I love you too.” Sigma replied as he pulled you closer towards him. He held you tight in his arms as he whispered those three words once more. He knew the alcohol would eventually knock you out, so he decided to continue and say those words one last time before you did.

“I love you, love. I will always love you.” He whispers once more.

As you proceed to fall asleep deeply, while feeling his warm embrace..

٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•٭.×٭

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #sigma x reader

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mcuamerica · 3 months

Text

Stranded | Alt Ending

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: A certain male visits you at your cabin. Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, rejected mating bond, let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (other ending)

Eris stood on the other side of your door, eyes filled with sorrow. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tears filling your eyes.

"Don't say it." You whispered.

Eris stayed silent for a few moments before wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. "He didn't send a letter. Not yet." He whispered. "But I hoped to get here before him." Eris said, pulling ever so slightly away.

You looked at him with confusion, your bottom lip quivering. "Is he here?" You whispered, knowing Eris would be able to detect if Azriel was in Autumn or not. Even at the border.

"I hope not." He whispered, bringing a hand to cup your cheek.

"What- What do you mean?" You asked.

"I don't want Azriel to come. I don't want him to claim you as his mate again, grovel for forgiveness. I want you to be happy. And you can't be happy with him." Eris said, cupping both of your cheeks. "But you can be happy with me. Here, in this cabin. Or in the Forest House. Or anywhere you want. But I certainly don't want you far away in the Night Court, trying to love a male who has done nothing but hurt you time and time again."

You searched Eris's eyes. All of the sudden, the stolen glaces throughout all the years made sense. How Eris was always so cryptic when you asked why he was helping you. You remembered one particular night when you were drunk on faerie wine with him...

You giggled rolling over on the blanket to face him. Eris was staring at you with glazed eyes, a lopsided grin spread on his lips. "What?" You asked, setting your glass on the hardwood floor, causing your wine to splash onto the planks. You let out a giggle and a whispered 'whoops' before looking back at Eris. "What?" You persisted, reaching your hand up to poke his cheek. He had stayed with you for three days now, allowed out of the Mountain for the week while Amarantha planned something 'special'. He had grown a stubble, opting to not shave while here with you since one time you mentioned you liked males with beards.

He caught your finger, intertwining your fingers with his. You felt your breath hitch, the moment more intimate than you two normally were. "I think I'm in love with you." He whispered quietly.

Your eyes widened. Then, in your drunken stupor, you burst out laughing. "You're so drunk." You said, your fit of giggles continuing as you rolled onto your back and held your stomach. Eris didn't say anything after that, only admired as you giggled until a new thought formed in your head and you shot up. "We should garden!"

"You were serious." You whispered to him, searching his eyes for any contempt or ill intentions.

Eris nodded, almost as if he knew where your mind went.

"Eris... You love me?" You asked, new tears brimming your eyes. Not in sadness, but in something much deeper, much rawer. In relief. The male standing before you had taken care of you, protected you, defended you, for 50 years. And he loved you.

"I don't just love you, (Y/N)," He whispered, his thumb coming up to wipe the tears that started to fall. "I am in love with you. And I have been for a very long time." He said.

"All these years.. this whole time?" You asked, your voice wavering.

"Not this whole time, but pretty quickly after your wings were healed..." He trailed off and smiled at you. "Please don't go back to him... please.. stay here with me." He asked, eyes full of yearning.

"Eris..." You whispered, this time taking his cheeks in your hands. "I'm in love with you too... I don't think I realized it until now. But... these feelings that I have for you. It's love. And I can't push them away for a male that doesn't love me like I love you." You whispered.

Eris leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as a few tears fell down his cheeks. As they landed on the top of your thumbs, you leaned up more, brushing your lips against his. "Kiss me, Eris." You whispered.

He didn't hesitate from that, his lips capturing yours in a passionate but slow motion. One hand trailed to your neck and the other trailed to your waist, pulling you close to him.

When you finally pulled back to gasp for breath, his expression showed only adoration. "You're going to reject the bond?" He asked quietly. If you didn't know better, you'd say there was a hint of worry in his tone.

"For you, Eris Vanserra, I would reject a thousand mating bonds. As long as I could be with you."

A/N: Ahhh, the moment you were all hoping for has arrived!! Honestly, do I mark this as Part Four and the other as the alt ending cause this is such a better conclusion imo...

Tagging: @feiwelinchen@circe143@sidthedollface2@crazylokonugget@i-am-infinite@thestartitaness @buttermilktea11 @tele86 @yearninglustfully @bunnyredgirl @romantasyreader28@rcarbo1@ren-ni@scoliobean @adalia-jaycee @lipstickmarks @mbclr @impossibelle @nyenye @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @coconut-dreamz @hauntedpiratenacho @esposadomd @anyzandy @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @dumblani

#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #katie writes #stranded

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soap-ify · 7 months

Text

mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

05 — i'll meet the judgement by the hounds.

chapter summary — a fool and a coward, that's the realisation you had come to.

tags / cw — no smut, fluff, a bit domestic honestly, basically reader's drunk and simon takes care of you, bittersweet, simon opens up... a bit, angst, suicidal thoughts, very subtle religious references if they even count as one, simon's in denial and reader is on the verge of losing it all. [4k words]

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Simon had come to the conclusion that you were a snake, and your love was your poison. Maybe he really was a coward for being afraid to let your venom drown into his veins.

“Remind me to never take you out for drinking again.”

If it weren’t for Simon holding you carefully against him and walking through the street, you’d surely have collapsed on the ground all drunk and worse, thrown up by now.

It was a little mistake. One drink became two, and then three. You had forgotten about your tolerance, and here you were now. It’s all because of Simon. That’s what your excuse was, blaming it all on him. Which was true in all honesty, you had gotten too excited about this little hangout.

“You’ll never go out with me again?” Completely mishearing his words, you looked up at him with wide eyes, tears already approaching. Yeah, you were completely drunk. Simon froze, his heart tearing at the sight of your incoming tears, even if they were just due to your emotions being all over the place now. Emotions that had always been there, hidden deep within.

His first instinct was to ignore your words and just keep walking, his heart begging for him to comfort you. But again, how does a killer comfort an angel? How would the moon comfort the ocean, while being so far away?

“I didn’t say that.” He gruffly replied and continued to look ahead, not daring to meet your eyes anymore.

O Angel, let me fall on my knees, kiss your fingers, and weep for forgiveness. So you may hold my absolution, and make me man again.

“C’mon, we gotta take you home.” Simon internally cursed himself for not taking you both to the bar in a car. He hadn’t considered the possibility of you being a drunk mess. Do I ever consider anything?

“No!” Your loud whine echoed in the empty pavement, and he could barely hold in a chuckle, deciding to bite his bottom lip beneath his mask. “Can’t we spend more time together, Si?”

I’d spend a lifetime with you. But god forbid he ever said those words. Not to you, not to anyone. “S’not like m’gonna die or somethin’, or that you’ll never see me again.” Simon grumbled and tightened his hand around your waist, accommodating your wobbly body, guiding you.

Simon wished he could take your hands and sway around with you, let both of you move into a sweet dance, with the stars praising you. A performance for the cosmos. He wished he could hold you when you throw yourself over him, to let you never escape his embrace. Lovers forever tangled.

He wished.

He wondered what something like that even would look like. His dad never danced with his mother. He remembers his mother looking at him, holding in her tears and forcing a smile. “I promise your dad loves me, just as much as I love him. He's just… exhausted nowadays.” He wished his mother didn’t consider him a naive — a child.

Simon doesn’t think he was ever a child. A child is innocent, his very first cry was a sin.

“Simon?” Your voice snapped him out of the reminiscence he was trapped in. He let out a soft grunt, urging you to continue.

“Have you… Have you ever seen a ghost?” You burst into laughter at your own poor attempt at the joke, a rapid change of emotion, though in your defence, it’s definitely very funny. Your free hand tried to wipe the tears as you continued laughing, and Simon swore that this was truly the angels’ hymn eliciting from your mouth.

“Do I count?” He grinned behind his mask, the side of his eyes crinkling a bit. You quickly shook your head and stared at him with determined eyes, fully set on your question. “In that case, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one, love. But if I do, I’ll make sure to tell ‘em you said hello.”

If it was someone else like Kyle or Johnny who would be laughing about this joke, Simon was sure that he would have said something snarky or just straight up ignored them. But not with you, never with you.

“You’re the best.” You beamed, his heart squeezed painfully.

“We’re almost there.”

Upon arriving at your apartment complex, he dropped you off outside your apartment’s front door, the only thing in mind being to flee quickly so your sweet smile doesn’t taunt him anymore. Though he simply couldn’t, your fingers not letting go off his forearm at all. Too exhausted to figure out if it was intentional or not, he sighed under his breath and turned over to face you, brown eyes having a slight shine in them due to the hallway’s light.

“C’mon, you gotta go in and rest.” He couldn’t figure out why his breathing was falling short. Was it the alcohol? He barely drank anything.

You, on the other hand, tried your best to not look up at him and meet his eyes, knowing that it would shut you up. Like the intimidating gaze of a god, a warrior. You had to speak your mind, had to know about something, to ease the storm in your head.

“Are you getting bored of me?” These words slipped out of your lips as a meek whisper, forbidden.

It was a sickening feeling that ensued within Simon after that, as if something was grabbing his heart and trying to rip it out of his chest. Inhale, exhale. He didn’t know what exactly horrified him. Probably the fact that he knew what had caused you to think like that. The perfume.

O Angel, let me carve my heart out with a knife and hand it to you as an offering — apology. So may your hands embrace it and take me home, with thee. So may your fingers caress my cheek once again, and let my blood paint my skin.

“No.” He was embarrassingly quick to reply, fingers curling up into fists by his sides as he inhaled sharply. How could he put such thoughts into your head? How could I? Only a devil, the most evil being, could commit such atrocity.

You paused at his words, not knowing what else to say. No? Then why was that perfume there? You didn’t want him to think you were dumb enough to not notice that. “You’re lying…” Your voice cracked, and it was no longer the alcohol playing you like a puppet. It was you now. You felt like your own marionette. Stop speaking, fucking stop. “I am not dumb, Si. I saw that p-perfume on your couch the other day. Is that why you got mad at me?” God, stop talking please. “You could have just… said that you prefer other girls. Am I… Am I making a fucking fool out of myself here?” It terrified you, your own emotions terrified you. Your voice was rising just a bit, and all your feelings had their hands wrapped around your throat. Controlling you. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to say it out loud. You weren’t used to being so open about your mind, and now you felt like nothing but a cat shivering under the rain — alone and abandoned. Vulnerable, naked.

Maybe you and Simon weren’t so different after all. Vulnerability — just why did it terrify humans? Were the angels and the gods just as opposed to vulnerability?

“Oh, l-” Love. It almost slipped off his tongue, and he didn’t know if you even wanted him to call you that right now. The thought alone made him shudder uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to do — stuck in between two roads. Should he lie? Or tell you the truth? — That it was just one time, a drunken act that is nothing but lamentable to him.

Why were you both even acting like an actual couple right now?

He swallowed the lump that threatened to torture his throat, exhaling softly. “I was drunk, and it happened. She probably left her perfume accidentally.” He spilled the truth out. Just the way a mature person would. Don’t be fucking daft, Riley. His eyes assessed the subtle twitch of your brows at that, your lips quivering. He wished he could just lean in and kiss all the tears away, despite them not having landed on your cheeks. Hopefully they won’t.

“Oh…” Your response was too short, unsure and reluctant. It made Simon feel as if he had sinned once again, chains threatening to drag him into the darkest depths of Hell. Home — the one he was familiar with.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your feet, your hand long having stopped holding his arm. Instead, your fingers were fiddling with one another anxiously. Why did you feel as if you were betrayed? A desperate cry for love, you wished you could say it to him. To his face, sob and scream about what you felt. He was the only one who understood, who was willing to understand. He was the only one who ever was, and who ever will be.

The agreement. It was no longer just fucking, it never was. Not since the day you saw him with Kyle, not since the day he talked with you after Kyle gestured at you. Never. Could he also see it all the way you did?

Your silence was a clear indicator of the fact that you were lost in your thoughts now. Simon’s eyes softened up, and before he could think rationally, his body reacted on its own and embraced you tightly against his chest, strong arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Fuck…” He cussed under his breath, despising how his voice was thickening up with emotion. He hugged you like an old dog messily giving affection to its owner. My angel, my angel. I sinned, I have sinned. I am sorry.

He pulled you impossibly close, as if wanting to mold his body into yours, to become one. He could be with you forever in that way, to be your breathing and you his heartbeat.

You didn’t even feel confused at his rapid action at all. Just broken, so broken. He was the hammer that had finally hit the dam, and broke it. “W-Why?” Your voice wavered and mixed into a sob, your hands tightened holding onto him, fingers threatening to dig deeper as you let your head rest against him, tears tickling your skin. “I am so tired… So tired, Si. I hate you…”

“Do you want me to leave?” His hold tightened despite his words.

“No.” Your words came out a bit more forcefully than you had intended, too anxious to let him go. You felt his right hand leaving your back, a soft whimper leaving your lips once you felt his lips, bare and real, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, soon realising that he had taken his mask off. Too shy and messy in tears, you made no effort to look up at him and instead continued to cry, emotions desperate to keep pouring out and leave the imprisonment of your body. His hand continued to rub the back of your head while his other held your lower back, both of you unknowingly taking a few steps back and forth together, unable to stay still. It was as if you both were dancing slowly, like lovers.

“Alright. Hand me the keys, love.” You tentatively grabbed your keys from where you had kept it and handed it to him, your hands quickly latching onto him again. He carefully unlocked the front door of your apartment and led you inside, being extra cautious so he doesn’t accidentally step onto your feet. Closing the door by kicking it gently with one leg, he gently guided you towards the living room, easing you down onto the couch.

“Do you remember that creepy guy that came into the cafe?” Your voice was still shaky from crying, eyes all glossy as you finally looked at him, heart skipping a beat. Despite already having seen his face the last time, you still weren't used to it. Were you blessed?

He silently nodded and took a seat beside you, his arms leaving your sides so his large hands could cradle your face, thumbs tenderly wiping the drying up tears away while you talked, eyes looking everywhere but at him due to the sudden proximity. He didn't mind it at all, simply adored your sudden sheepishness.

“I still get scared at the thought of him… I don't want anyone like that to visit the cafe again. I-I don't think I can handle it.” Your voice gradually got quieter by the end, nibbling on your bottom lip. Oh, dear. Simon hadn’t told you that he had already beat that creep up. Now he somewhat wished that he had killed him instead. Surely Price would back him up if he made up some reason, yeah?

Your shoulders visibly eased up at that, your mind clearing a bit. Probably sobering up? You were sure that you weren't going to pick up a bottle of alcohol after this. Leaning into him, you decided to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Expecting a soft, calm rhythm — you were instead met with a fast thump, your brows furrowing though you decided not to comment on it.

“He wouldn't. No one will ever treat you like that again, love.” As long as I am here. Possessive yet guilty. He was vaguely promising to be by your side while always avoiding you, protecting you from himself. From the ugliness within him. No angel must spare a glance at a stray, especially not one used to violence.

His hands were playing with the fabric of your shirt now, mindlessly toying with it, feeling the texture under his skin as he gently tugged onto it. It felt oddly comforting, both of you not mentioning what happened outside the apartment a few minutes ago.

You looked up at him again, your eyes falling onto his lips this time. A bit chapped with a small scar adorning the side of his upper lip. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, leaning forward to place a bashful kiss on top of it. Simon let out a soft grumble at that, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss your lips properly, eyes fluttering shut alongside yours. He could taste some hints of your salty tears, his hands holding your waist while your hands held the back of his neck, letting his lips devour yours.

He held onto you gently, not wanting to be tight despite every fiber within him wanting to hold you fully against him once more, like a hound too eager to please.

Once he pulled away from the kiss, his heart skipped at the sight of your lips being all glossy. Ethereal. Your lips twitched into a giddy smile, and he could swear that he felt the heat radiating off you once it crept up onto your face. It felt soft, everything felt too soft and warm. The gentleness threatened to suffocate him once more, a mocking reminder of him being undeserving of such tranquility. He was supposed to be wed to the war, to violence. To the bloodshed that haunted his dreams. Not whatever this was.

But he refused to get up, not wanting to see any more of your tears. “We have to get you to bed. You need sleep.” He spoke quietly, a soft sigh leaving his lips once he felt your forehead pressing against his, letting you lean into him.

“Will you join me?” You normally would have never asked something like that, but the way he was holding you almost made you believe that he was willing to warm up a bit more with you.

Simon frowned at that, pulling his head back slightly. “We can't, you're drunk.”

Realising that he misunderstood you, blood rushed to your cheeks and you looked away in embarrassment, your voice getting timid. “No… I meant sleeping together. Nothing else.”

He paused, eyes softening up as the implication dawned on him. Sleeping together. Innocently domestic — something you both had never touched. He wanted to reject, to say that it’d be better for him to just leave. That could have been the better option anyways. Though he couldn't bring himself to refuse you, too enamoured, as if trapped in some spell by you.

“Fine.” He clicked his tongue in a poor attempt to appear reluctant, masking his inner eagerness. Helping you off the couch, he led you towards the bathroom first, opening the tap. “Let's wash your face first, yeah?”

He did everything — getting you in comfortable pajamas once he finished helping you clean up, even helping you in preparing the bed. Everything. It made you feel as if you were cared for, as if he was the warmth you had ached for throughout your life. The felicity had long spreaded within you once you laid down on bed, watching him lay down beside you.

He was tense, visibly so. You tentatively scooted towards him, a hand reaching out to settle onto his chest, to feel his heartbeat once again. Maybe in this way, you could sync your heart with his, build your own little bubble. Or was that too much to hope for?

“Thank you…” It just slipped out of your mouth like a soft prayer — a hidden whisper to be close to him so more.

“S'nothing.” His eyes looked over at you, taking in the contentment etched onto your face. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you against him, to let you melt in his embrace while you slept. No. That's too much, that's crossing a line. A line made up in his head.

You're building your own grave, Simon. He despised his own mind for mocking him like this, for littering his head with unwanted thoughts. Just one night.

“Sleep now, love.” He whispered quietly, watching you reach over to turn the lamp off. You shuffled besides him again, letting the blanket cover you up.

Simon doesn’t remember the last time he had slept so nicely, your soft breathing his lullaby.

Upon waking up alone on your bed, a heavy feeling of dread settled on you alongside a throbbint headache. Had he left? Wasn't it just getting better?

Holding your heart together from cracking it with every strength you had, you tried to take a few deep breaths. Don’t panic, don't-

The sudden clinking sound from outside your bedroom made you jolt, and only now could you notice the pleasant aroma of something cooking. Sheepishly, you slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the door, poking your head out to look around. Able to make out some of Simon's figure through the open door of the kitchen, relief flooded deep within you. He's here.

“Good morning, Si…” You greeted him once you entered the kitchen, standing besides him, rubbing the weariness off your eyes. He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement, focusing on cooking some breakfast.

“Your whole kitchen needs some restocking.” He mumbled, sparing a small glance over at you. You stayed quiet, a bit embarrassed by his observance. You were planning on restocking it soon, anyways.

The morning went by like a pleasant breeze, your mood ever so joyous today. You felt light, as if floating on the clouds and reaching the stars, as if becoming one of them, alongside Simon. He hadn't mentioned much about last night at all, even gave you some pills and an offer for a head massage. You had declined it, mostly because you didn't want to show how greatly affected you were by the subtle signs of care laced in his actions, despite it being already evident all over you.

You didn't know what had driven you to act in the way you did in the afternoon. Maybe you shouldn't have opened your mouth, just kept it shut and complied.

“Si, I um… I want to talk to you about something.” You paused the monotonous movie literally none of you were actually focusing on, turning over the couch to face him, your fingers tightly curled on your lap, digging into your flesh.

Maybe it was just your heart acting out, feeling as if things had changed. Foolishly clinging onto the thin strong of hope, never learning. Never learning that touching stray dogs was bad, they had fleas. Fleas that had already infected you, threatening to devour you.

“I think… Uh- I was wondering- I just-” Fumbling over your words, all you could hear was the loud beating of your own heart, each nerve of yours set on fire. Anxious, too anxious. You wanted to throw up. “I wanted to tell you that I really… like you, and-” Your words drowned into heavy silence once you took note of just how silent Simon was, how he was frowning.

A fool. A fool who dreamt too much, who was too lost amidst the heavenly clouds of tranquility. A fool who did everything to avoid reality — that's what you felt like.

“No.” His reply was rather abrupt, clear. The subtle smile on your lips fell, and Simon wished to do nothing more than drown into a river. “You don't like me.”

“I-I do!” Unbelievable, did he not believe that you like him? Even love him.

“You shouldn't.” That came out more roughly than he had intended to, a little snarl escaping his throat. “We've already discussed it, this is nothing.’

You should have shut up at that, should have somehow sewed your lips together and quieted down. You couldn't, instead growing more agitated, more on edge. “You can't say that, Si! D-Don't you see whatever it is that we're doing?” You whimpered in exasperation, trying to keep your voice from trembling, miserably failing. “I care for you! I do, and you care for me too. I can see it…” Vision progressively growing blurrier with incoming tears, you looked away and tried to ignore the sting in your eyes, your breath shuddering. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Simon was at a loss of words himself, his heart aching to kiss your tears away and plead for forgiveness. He was a cruel, cruel man. Cruel for being so terrified, cruel for being so persistent.

O Angel, forgive me for I can't let you love me, for light should never kiss the shadow.

“You shouldn't…” He repeated his words again, his voice quieter, weaker. A plea, a request. You shook your head, a sob erupting from your throat as you tried to reach out for him.

He pulled away just as quick, your hand never meeting his. An ocean that could never touch the moon, a man that could never touch a star.

“I need to leave.” Hastily he turned around and walked out of your apartment, leaving you speechless, hand still shamefully held out. Frozen and alone, unloved.

Simon Riley was a coward.

Simon had lost count of how many bottles he had drank by now. Feeling horribly, horribly similar to his father. A drunkard, disgusting. He thought the alcohol could wash his emotions away, drown them hopefully — all it did was make him even more vulnerable, his glossy eyes staring off at a distance.

Weak. Ironically enough, this brute was nothing but weak. Everyone should be laughing at him, you should be laughing at him. Laugh at him for not knowing how to love properly, for being so quick to run away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, making him click his tongue in irritation that soon melted away once he noticed the caller ID.

Price.

He picked it up and listened to his captain's words, each syllable both a stab and a blessing.

A deployment again, finally.

notes — i apologise for uploading it after A WHOLE MONTH. blaming it on the writerphew, a deployment! this could mean many things. also a heads up that either chapter 6 or chapter 7 will be the last one (made some changes to my plan!)

#the most infuriation relationship known to society #simon PLEASE.#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #yaaiad : masterlist #rurufic

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