#those days seem so long ago n it hurts sometimes thinking of. how we can't really ever return to them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jtrokujo · 3 years

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂¿

paring: Mikaela Hyakuya x fem!Reader

(they’re 18+!!!)

word count: 4k

warning: this story contains sexual content

gerne: smut

summary: there are days when they get along well but there were also days when they hated each other like the plague and even though they love each other?

—

The weather is neutral, but I wish it got better.

The sun is obscured by the gray clouds, but it's not windy or anything.

You could even go out with a top.

However, y / n decided to take a seat in the four walls with a number of different books and a tall pile of books right next to them.

As she gently leafed through the pages of the somewhat older book, she felt a stab.

Of course it didn't hurt since no one was attacking her, but it felt like someone was watching her.

Without presenting her feelings, she took some books and put the rest where she got them.

Immediately after leaving the library, she stopped in the middle of the path and said with an annoyed sigh, "Bathory, I know you're here."

He stands grinning in front of y / n, but could hardly show a disappointed face.

With his head tilted to one side, he looked at his prey and smiled at her immediately. "I prefer you to call me by my first name, dear."

“I do what I want and not what you want, Bathory. Besides, I have better things to do than waste my precious time being influenced by you. "

When they told the vampire, she continued on her way, or at least intended to.

As quickly as he came, he grabbed her arm just as quickly. "But y / n, why is it in such a hurry?" asked the vampire, amused, pressing more and more on hers with every second, so slowly you could hear her bones. Y / n had to react immediately!

Without thinking for a second, she dropped all of the books on the white floor and immediately grabbed her gun. "You should let go of me!" y / n's voice rang out down the hall and immediately shot the vampire in the arm.

His blood spurted around her.

Y / n got his blood on her face as well as on her clothes - it was the same with Bathory, also the wall and especially the floor got his blood.

"Disgusting." mumbled y / n and wiped the blood on her face, although she knew herself that it would be of no use.

"What's going on here?" Everyone but not him.

"Hello Mika!" said Ferid with delight and turned to get a better look at him.

"Have you lost your nerve again?" he asked me annoyed, but he only looked at me for a few seconds and immediately saw Ferid's blood spatter.

"What do you mean 'again'?"

Even if we've known each other for a long time, we both have to admit that one and the other have diverged. Sometimes it was his fault, sometimes it was me. There were of course moments when we got along really well, but in the end they weren't enough in my opinion.

"Since you've lived with us, at least one vampire must have got something from your weapon."

Said the blond-haired vampire while his eyes stared at me.

I'm not understating when I say that his eyes alone make me feel naked.

Mika only manages to control me through his eyes, even though I should be the one who should control every vampire or the various books I spend most of my time on just one more bad joke.

It was enough for vampires to exist and more than hundreds of people took their own lives just to be able to enjoy themselves. To this day I cannot forgive any of the vampires for what they did to me or those around me. I know myself that there are bad ones, but what is their goal?

Or do you have a goal?

"Y / n." I heard his voice.

Awakened from my trance, I see his eyes again. However, they do not have this previous aura, no, they are a little stricter this time. When I gave him a sign of his attention, the lecture immediately came, "You are old enough to know how to behave and with whom to behave. If you show this behavior to someone else, I'll let that person do it . " and do what they want, because I haven't had the nerve for someone like you for a long time. So finally know your limits before I use my weapon against you! "

Impressive. From sentence to sentence his voice grew louder and louder. Seriously, I never expected or even had the idea of this side of Mika in my life, but here it is. Wonderful y / n, now you have managed to sink deeply with Mika, which is actually the very last thing I ever wanted to achieve in my life, but life has never been a paradise.

With a chuckle, Bathory put his arm and my shoulders and spoke to Mika.

"But, but Mika shouldn't be so strict with her. She's just a little girl again, not even now, is she?" "If I were that little girl, you would surely have two arms instead of one." After saying my sentence, I picked up the books that were still on the floor and didn't say goodbye to anyone, why should I?

Bathory is nothing more than an idiot who uses his satisfaction to see others suffer rather than provoke them too.

While Mika nudges both children like a father, although the other is to blame for everything.

When I got to my room, I put the books on my table and sat on my bed, thinking about the old days. However, I don't think of the days with loved ones that I lost, but of those that I spent with Mika before he gave me a “better life”.

I could leave it all behind at any time and either not start an old or a new life, but I love to have him in my heart for it.

Sighing at my thoughts, I give up and stood in front of my closet for the next minute.

While the lukewarm water felt the white bathtub, my clothes landed on the floor.

This life is more of a calling expected of others than a life of its own. A break does no harm to anyone.

I said to myself and after a few seconds I closed my eyes.

After my bath or a break from the real world, I'm just choosing which book to read.

As I was about to start the new book, someone knocked on my door.

Hesitantly, I said the door was open and waited for the person behind it to appear. Please leave it all but Bathory.

Sighing, I immediately put my hand on my left breast and saw him, Mika.

To be honest, I'm happy to see him, but I'm not, but I don't need an explanation. "Good evening." he said in his usual tone. Without making a big head out of it, I repeated it myself, but added if he needed anything from me.

Shivering, I answered my question in the negative and came up to me with slow steps.

The only thing I could do was do nothing. I stopped. When our faces are a few centimeters away, his arm came slowly towards my body, until he reached for something, when he had this in his hand, he came back with a few steps and immediately held a book in my face.

"I really recommend it, I have to say, you have pretty good taste when it comes to books. I've read it several times because these stories, the writing style, the plot and most of all the characters are up to me." uniquely well written down to the smallest detail. "

I looked at the vampire in amazement. "You read that too?" "Y / n, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't have a clue either."

A little ashamed of my oh-so-intelligent question, I also looked at the floor.

The whole time there was nothing to be heard, neither a little intoxication, nor even breathing. But after a few seconds, Mika also broke the embarrassing silence by taking a few steps and holding out his arm to me. I don't understand it about myself. When Mika is around, I either act annoyed or neutral. However, countless butterflies gather in my stomach when I think of him alone!

"Y / n ... y / n?!" Mika looked up, gave me a neutral look and at the same time held a few strands of my hair and asked me if he should tie my hair up with a towel. I gently took the wet strands of hair from his hand and began to giggle at my discomfort and nervousness. The thought of me being weird was always out of the question.

"I think I'll blow dry my hair. I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow."

"I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow." repeated Mika before she disappeared from my room.

Locked in the room and caught in his deepest thoughts, he stared over the ceiling.

The reviews of that day haunted him to this day when he also dreamed them.

Sleeping now wouldn't be for him, even though it is shortly before 2 o'clock.

But what can you do about it?

The vampire rose from the bed, stretched out, and decided to go for a walk immediately.

As he walked through the empty corridors, he always hoped not to meet anyone.

Whatever stays that way.

Bored and hands in his pockets, the floor caught his attention. It didn't take long, however, because he was amazed to get up when he saw the light coming from someone's room.

He was more than sure whose room, or rather chamber, it was.

It was Y / n's.

He stopped in front of it, thinking, held out his hand and wanted to knock on the door. At the same time he quickly put his hand in his pocket. This scenario takes about 3 minutes. But it wasn't the vampire's nervousness that was unusual, no, why should he be at y / n's door? This is funny.

Doesn't he often seem annoyed or stern in your presence?

Well, he doesn't even know what's going on in his head.

After an eternity, the vampire finally knocked on the human's door and immediately heard "Come in" from the other side.

Without telling himself twice, he opened the door and saw her. He saw her spread out on the large bed with several notes and books.

Stressed out. You can't see it from the outside, but even Mika can confess that he thinks it is strange to see y / n at this time.

"Do you need something?" she asked him and fixed him with her gaze.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping long ago?" he asked and at the same time crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mika, I could ask you that too, don't you think?" sigh y / n and slowly start piling up her notes and books together.

When Mika offered her help, she politely declined and slowly and carefully put the things on her desk.

"If you have nothing special to do, you can always keep me company, you know?"

Yes, even if there is an argument between the two, they still get along well. However, they don't seem to be as close as they used to be. Without saying anything, Mika accepted the offer and sat next to y / n.

Was that really wise?

The smell of y / n gets over his head, but he's not as easy to lose control as other vampires.

Breathing hard, Mika rubbed her eyes and hoped that this unbearable smell would go away any moment.

Easier said than done.

If only I had drunk blood in the last few days. The vampire cursed.

Y / n noticed his unusual behavior and tried to communicate with him, but to no avail. She called his name several times, tapped him on the shoulder, and shook him a little. He seems trapped in his own world. For the first time she seemed to see someone so trapped in his own world. When will he regain his senses?

Annoyed, she hit his skull with her fist, which led to a groan of pain from Mika's mouth. "What does this mean?!"

“If you are tired, please go to your room and sleep there.

Both rolled their eyes in annoyance.

"You have nothing to say to me, human."

"Oh really? What are you going to do about it, vampire?" It wasn't a mistake by y / n, but rather Mika's mistake. If he hadn't called her a human, she wouldn't have called him a vampire. Nobody except Mika knows right now how much he hates vampires and yet he is one himself, but you have to remember that he never wanted to be one. Not everyone is lucky in life.

As I said, even if it was his own fault that she reminded him, he completely lost his nerve. Slowly she approached y / n, she already felt the dark aura coming towards her. However, y / n did not want to show the fear that is in her and slowly rising above her head. She will regret it. "Repeat when you have the pity." "What is the problem? You called me human and I called you a vampire, but you know what makes me be silly, get out of here, vampire. ”Without further ulterior motives, Mika grabbed her wrist and squeezed the bones with her hand listened from print to print. When she wanted to reach for her gun, which is under her top, Mika was a second faster and threw it directly to the end of the room. When Mika immediately released his hand from Y / n's wrist, she saw an emotion in his eyes, sadness.

He was hurt, but shouldn't he care? What should a little person who plays with little guns do against a vampire, ask him about a game? However, he saw her more as a person, he saw her as someone he can love, with whom he can laugh, of course he had had these people before in his life, but they have long since disappeared. Oh how much he loves her.

If only she knew how many letters he wrote her, but never gave them to her, but hid them in his room.

"I'm really stupid." Mika muttered trembling to herself. Y / n heard it and slowly walked up to him "Mika, that was very childish of me and, to be honest, I'm sorry." When she tried to touch his shoulder, he knocked her away and looked into her eyes, it was their fault.

“I don't want your decisions! I never wanted to be a vampire! If you don't know anything about me, please be quiet and think twice before you open your door! ”The whole room went quiet, pretty quiet. It was rather uncomfortably quiet for y / n, but she preferred to keep her mouth shut because it looked like Mika was looking for the right words. "Why do I love you? Tell me Y / N, how can I love you when you hate me so much?" His voice was fragile and it was tormented to hear it that way. "Mika, I had never hated you before." Exhausted, Mika sat down on the floor and looked at the gun at the other end of the room. "Every time I see a gun like that, I hate myself even more." “Even if it sounds a bit clichéd, for example because of the current situation, I have to and want to admit that I love you Mika. You are in such pain and apparently you have torn old wounds. You didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. ”Y / n sat like Mika on the floor and hugged him. Her warm body against his cold one. As if in slow motion, their faces stood a few inches apart until their lips met.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

With my hands on the back of his neck and my tongue seeking his, his fingertips dance from my thigh under my top.

Only he managed to make me shiver everywhere in a few seconds with the help of his touch. Not through his ice-cold skin, no, only through him. In keeping with the mood, the cold raindrops hit my window pane. "Waiting." he whispered to me.

Not a second later it was pitch black in my room. The butterflies in my stomach just like Mika don't know when to stop, but I love it, never let it stop! His lips kissed every inch of my skin and whispered to me how divine my body was. His hands slide up my top until it finally brushes over my head. The first item of clothing is already on the floor. My legs were around his waist so he could pick me up and lay me on my bed. When he did that, his lips were still on my skin.

As I lay down comfortably, I watched his clothes land piece by piece on the floor. His belly is built like that of a Greek god and although it is dark the moon shines on him. One could have immediately thought it was a godsend. The boxer shorts were the only items of clothing that remained. While I was about to take off my pants, Mika took my hands and indicated that he could do it himself. When my pants peeled off my skin, he looked at my legs in admiration and immediately threw my pants on the floor. Now stand half-naked in front of my bed. The red cheeks on his cheeks were clearly visible. "Are we really supposed to pull this off?" I asked Mika and looked him in the eye. His lips approached my ear and he breathed softly, "Y / n, the question is not, we should, but we can. A human and a vampire, is that a good chemistry?"

"Why don't we want to find out?" I whispered and kissed his shoulder in time. Now he looked at me again, but with clearly red cheeks you could have thought he had a fever, but I can't blame him, because even when his ice-cold body is on top of mine, my body manages to have a hot temperature.

As our tongues played with each other again, our hands explored each other's bodies. While one hand pinches my buttocks, the other is right on my bra clasp.

Moaning slightly, I also pinched his buttocks and felt my muscles tense. A low gasp left his delicate lips, which made me even weaker. My temperature rises more and more with each of his touches.

I can not stand it anymore!

He knows very well that he has the upper hand!

When my bra, like the rest of the clothes, landed on the floor, his ice-cold hands brushed my arms up to my hips and brushed the last piece of clothing across the floor.

I was breathing hard down in my zone.

His hands were on each thigh so I couldn't pinch my legs together. Apart from the horniness, I could hardly move my legs because of his strength, you can not say that he is so strong. The horniness in me is going like crazy! With every breath Mika takes against my area, the butterflies in my stomach fly crazier.

When his tongue brushed my cervix for less than a second, I let out a gasp. Immediately afterwards he pressed his tongue against it and danced with it at the same time. That I'm getting wetter is not only clear to me, but also to Mika, when he was his tongue in my entrance, she explored every single inch inside.

Overwhelmed by shame and lust, I pressed one hand against my mouth so as not to make a noise from you, and the other on his white-blonde hair.

Every time his tongue penetrated deeper and he spread my thighs wider and wider, it honestly hurt, but I don't care about that at the moment because as good as he makes me feel no one is going to do it and I want it too nobody does it because I just want them. Because I just want Mika.

When I thought it couldn't get better, I was wrong. When he started sucking, I was done. My lustful moans got louder every time I sucked, but I do my best that nobody but Mika can hear it. When he freed his tongue from the entrance again, he stuck his middle and ring finger in the next second and didn't give me a second to get used to it. The speed of his fingers is unique!

No matter how much I press my hand against my mouth, my moans stay louder.

Several times his name groaned, which only drove him to increase the speed. My orgasm is nourishing. When I groaned and said I was about to be there, he didn't stop but continued. His tongue dances on my cervix and his fingers successfully hit the G-spot every time, it's just breathtaking!

When my orgasm came, I screamed his name with relish and breathed heavily as I stared at the ceiling.

His beautiful face approached mine, but he devoted his lips to my ears and whispered, "A second round won't hurt you." Aren't my trembling legs enough for him? In the middle of the kiss, I slowly felt his member inside me, but my nails clawed behind his back in pain, we continued the kiss. Now it was Mika who groaned in the middle of the kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed my chest as his hips began to dance. Is it still normal for him to make me feel this way? Because on the one hand I can no longer, on the other hand I want more! Mika's one hand is on my thigh while the other is on my chest. The way he plays sensitive nipples is superb.

I don't know how he makes me feel so good, but I want him to never stop. "Mika, don't stop." I moaned in his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist. When he saw me, I didn't know how to feel. Because his eyes are blood red! He slowly approached my neck. That cold breath worried me even more. He didn't bite me, however, but instead scratched his designated spot with his fangs as the blood flowed from the wound, so it propelled him and made him much faster than before. The clap of our skin was just as loud as the satisfying moans from our mouths. "Y / n." he groaned my name and immediately turned me around. Now my back was visible to him. With both hands on our hips, our bodies clapped together. When I moaned his name one last time, the orgasm came, Mika pulled his member out of me and rubbed it with his hand until finally the white sperm speared out of his body.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

After Mika helped me cleanse my body, we are back in bed naked. "Do you think we can do it?" Mika asked out of nowhere. “I don't think so, I know, Mika. And I think you should too. "The vampire looked at me lovingly and finally kissed me on the lips and immediately afterwards whispered" Good night, y / n. " "Good night, Mika."

#mikaela hyakuya #owari no seraph mikaela #owari no seraph #mikaela x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #female #x you #love story #smut #seraph of the end #yuichiro hyakuya #shinoa hiragi #ferid bathory #guren ichinose

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koushisatori · 3 years

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if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

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k0ra-kumori · 4 years

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Jealous Batboys (DC Super Hero Girls 2019)

Hello, my name is Kora kumori and I'm Brazilian, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors in the story! (This story is based on dc super hero girls 2019)

word count ; 1602

pairings ; Batboys x reader

genre ; fluffy / Smut

warnings: contains adult content.

Dick Grayson

- You two were at a party, and there were two guys around you.

- my friend, he is very jealous.

- Dick may seem the most peaceful among his brothers, but don't be fooled.

- He will grab your waist tightly in front of the intruders.

- "Excuse me boys, I don't know if you know me but my name is Dick Grayson, I'm Bruce Wayne's son" Yes, that was a threat. It's almost as if dick wants to say "I'm very powerful, so don't mess with me or my girl."

- When he introduces himself, it usually keeps the intruders away, but this time not, this time the two men were not intimidated by the name "Dick Grayson" so dick moves on to the second stage.

- Dick whispers something in your ear and then gives you a kiss, then he leaves. You were confused.

- You were uncomfortable because the two men were still on your side, blocking your exit.

- Dick comes back after about 10 minutes, you wanted to hit him for taking so long.

- "You two are expelled." Dick said to the men, they were perplexed "You and bruce wayne run the city, not us. So why would we go out?", Dick gives a stupid smile "As you said, bruce wayne and I ran the city, and I bought it this club, and you are at my club in my town, so get out or i going to be forced to call the guards. "

- You were jaw-dropping and speechless, did he just buy a club so he could kick out the guys who flirted with you? Dick was really the most amazing guy in Gotham.

Jason Todd (18+)

- Okay, for Jason blood and jealousy mix very easily.

- You were in a bar, if dick saw that jason took you to a place like this, he would protest.

- You were there because the owner of the bar was none other than Artemis, so you could drink for free.

-Sometimes you forget that Jason is a vigilante, and unfortunately for him, there was a robbery across the street, Jason said he was going to solve it quickly and that he would be back soon, he kissed you goodbye.

"In the meantime, a man much older than you approached, and he was ... flirting with you?" That was disgusting.

- Jason has a sensor to know when they are flirting with you, because he showed up just in time.

- Jason took a glass of beer and drank, he hit the glass aggressively against the table when he finished.

- "Did you miss something in my girlfriend's breasts, you idiot?" Jason gripped his waist so tightly that it was scarred the next day.

- The man looked drunk, so he replied "Is this angel your girlfriend? You teenagers are idiots, you shouldn't be dating, so she should be dating an older guy--"

- That alone was enough to free the demon that Jason calls "rage" and it was all too fast, the man didn't even speak and Jason jumped on him, they were punching each other, kicking, everything to get hurt .

- You were so used to seeing Jason involved in bar fights that you didn't even care, in fact, you even like it when he gets involved in fights, because you know what happens after he finishes fighting.

- The fight lasted about 2 minutes, and as much as they tried, nobody could get Jason off the guy, and Artemis seemed more interested in cleaning cups than separating the fight.

- "I'll be right back, doll." Jason gave you a deep, hot kiss, very hot. He was angry and had just killed a drunk in front of everyone, he was dragging the man's body to the warehouse, you knew that in a few minutes he would have nothing but bones.

- Okay, he came back, and there he is, Jason todd all bloody, did you think it was weird that it took him less than 10 minutes, "Hey, but so fast?", Jason looked angrier than before, "He only had fat . " You were going to say something else, but Jason pulled your arm so fast that you didn't have time, you knew what happened when Jason got mad, and an angry and hungry jason resulted in things ... hot.

- he pulled you into the car, and threw you hard, you could already see the bulge between his legs, "Jason, yo--", Jason was horny, and was squeezing the steering wheel of the car, "I won't be able to wait until we get to the mansion, let's do it here.", " What?! We can't do it here, if a policeman catches us we'll be in trouble... "Jason shut you up with a kiss, he was now on top of you shirtless, showing his entire collection of scars, "I said we would do this here."

Tim Drake:

Tim is almost a robot, he feels emotions only inside, but shows nothing.

- You were in a coffee shop, Tim needed to finish a job.

- You were bored with watching him typing on his laptop, the coffe shop was empty and you could only hear the sound of the keys.

- "Coffee, can you get me another S / N?" You looked at Tim confusedly "You mean Y / N can you get me a coffee?", "That's what I said. Can you get it?" You were already getting worried about Tim, he hadn't slept for 3 days, it seems that being vigilant and a student is not easy.

- Well, you got up and went to get a coffee for your sleepy boyfriend for the 4th time, Tim like the biggest coffee, so you got the biggest one, and when you were going back to the table with Tim, a man unwittingly hits you, spilling all the coffee on your clothes.

- He seemed sorry, and apologized countless times, and somehow, those apologies turned into a conversation. You were enjoying chatting with your new best friend, until he asks "Do you have a boyfriend?", You loved Tim, and of course you replied that you did, and pointed to Tim.

- your friend wanted to forget that he asked this, so when you were going to talk again, "Hey Y / N." Tim came out of nowhere, the two of you jumped out of your seats, Tim had this Bizarre gift of being too silent.

- "Hi my love, let me introduce you to ..." Before you finished, tim completed his sentence, "Edward hanscom." Tim said coldly, "Yes! How did you know? I didn't even--" Tim interrupted you again, "I know a lot of things, and we better get going, I finished my job."

- "I-I think I'm leaving, Y / N, I'll see you the other day ..." Edward was about to walk out the door, when Dick came in, he was at work now (Officer) "Mr. Hanscom?" Edward nodded, "Y-yes it's me ...", "You're under arrest" and said, dick handcuffed edward and took him to the car to make sure he wouldn't run away, after doing that dick returned to the coffee shop.

- "Tim and S / N? How nice to see you here!", Tim just muttered something, and you waved happily at Dick, "I don't want to intrude but, why did you arrest him? I talked to him a few minutes ago." , "oh he? He was caught by cameras in a super market stealing food, I'm going to take him to the police station" you were worried about it, Edward didn't look like a criminal, so why was he being arrested?

- You thought for a moment and looked into the dick car, you found Jason inside. "D-dick, are you sure you are taking Edward to the police station? ...", "Certainly. Well, it was nice to talk to you but I better get back, I have work to do, see you soon, Tim and S / N! " Then he was gone, dick is gone.

- You left the coffee shop, you were going to the Wayne Mansion now "Edward was cool, it's a shame he is a criminal, and I'm not sure if Dick will take him to the police station I hope he will be fine ...", "he will be fine." You were a little uncomfortable with what happened a few minutes ago, so you took Tim's hand, "So, what were you working on, my little bird? You've been at it for two weeks" Tim looked at you "I was trying to locate a guy.", You were curious now, "A guy? You usually work with more important things than that, my love", Tim looked at you seriously" It was very important, that guy has spent 3 times looking at the butt of a guy's girlfriend, this is disrespectful.", you rolled your eyes, Tim gave too much detail, "Okay, so what was his name?", "Edward Hanscom."

- You were in shock, he spent 2 weeks locating that guy who came to flirted to you at the Coffee shop?!, "You idiot! Dick is going to give Edward as food for Jason!" You pushed Tim lightly, he was now laughing "Dick knows how to control that beast, besides, that Edward guy looked at your ass!", "You are an idiot Tim, you sent the guy to prison!" Tim now hugged you, "Relax, i will let him go tomorrow, that was just for him to learn not to look at the ass of others' girlfriend", you were silent, until you think of something to talk about "You know Tim, you can do it be bizarre and scary at the same time, but I love y--" for the thousandth time, Tim interrupted you "I love you too.", you started laughing now" You have to stop interrupting me! This is scary you silly!"

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lyssahlyssah · 3 years

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Obey Me! The Present

a/n: not suitable for work

Well, this took a week of my life, but it's ok! It's obviously something I needed to get off my chest (ahem). I hope you enjoy. 🟣🔵⚫

pairing: F!MC x Belphegor, category: (very) not suitable for work, warnings: some angst, virgin sex, penetration, oral sex, teasing, man-eating petunias. description: Belphie give F!MC the present she's always wanted. wordcount: 2.1k

"Is there anything else I can do for you for your birthday? Being your present and all. "

In your room, Belphie stands in front of you with his usual coy smile. Tall and gorgeous, he cocks his head to one side causing hair to fall into his violet eyes. He confidently holds your gaze. As the gaze lingers, his smile deepens, playfully suggestive.

Today is your birthday and you've spent it on a date with Belphie. Feeling guilty after forgetting to buy you anything, he had cleverly volunteered to be your present, granting you any wishes you wanted.

Excited by his creativity (and the prospect of time with him alone), you had taken full advantage, first visiting the planetarium and then the botanical gardens. You'd laughed together, played around, took naps under a tree with his head in your lap. At the botanical gardens, he'd even rescued you from man-eating petunias after you took a wrong turn, and had shamelessly teased you about it since. Everything was effortless and fun when you were together.

And now, looking at his smiling face, you reflected on how far the two of you'd come. This wasn't Belphie from long ago in the attic; the angry and vengeful demon that once tried to kill you, heart twisted with hate from the loss of his beloved sister. No, he had changed. As time had gone on, he had warmed to the whole world, even to his older brother Lucifer, whom he had once admitted hating to the point of murder. He was now letting people to get close to him again. And especially you. He had opened the door to his heart and was inviting you in.

Because of the complicated history you shared, a special bond grew between you. His aloofness drew your open and loving nature like a moth to a flame, and you clicked like magnets due to your differences. Over any of the other brothers, he made you feel comfortable. Facing him now, you realized you've fallen hard for the infamous sloth demon. It was for those reasons, a response to his question immediately floated to your lips.

"Kiss me", you say, giving him a smile of your own.

"Sure", he agrees, a blush on his cheeks. Your lips meet. It's soft and sweet. Somehow, even though you aren't sure where he found the time between naps to become this way, Belphie is an incredible kisser.

His lips push down on yours with a little more force, then abruptly pull back, leaving you breathless. "Is that all?" he asks. "In that case, I'll give myself to you every day" his eyes crinkle in a smile, ever teasing.

You wet your lips, heart pattering in your chest. You did want more from him...a lot more. Now or never. you think. You catch his hand and hold it. "Ah...Belphie...actually, what I want instead, is to give m-myself....to you." you stammer a little in getting it out. His eyes widen as he realizes what you're insinuating. Silence.

"MC...you sure? With me?" Belphie stares back at you, no longer joking. He pauses. "Why me? Why not Lucifer...or...or...The Great Mammon?" he says, with a sarcastic flourish.

When he sees your face drop, he immediately apologizes and runs a hand through his thick hair, ruffling it. His voice softens. "I'm sorry...I've been angry for so long, you know? Sometimes it just comes out when I don't mean it to."

He takes your hand again and pulls you to the bed where you sit down together. Color rises in his cheeks. "Really though...I've lied to you, I've manipulated you. Not that long ago...I even tried to kill you. Why am I the one you want for this?" He searches your face for an answer.

"You're my master, I can't refuse you, and I'd be crazy to anyway, but...why me?" Standing up, he paces a few feet in a circle, then sits down again. You've rarely seen him this worked up; it's obvious he still hasn't totally forgiven himself for hurting you.

"I love you Belphie", the words fall out of your mouth. Your eyes widen. You search your feelings and know it isn't a lie. His eyes are wide too. "Do...do you mean that?" he questions, leaning back.

You nod, "I need you, Belphie. I feel safe with you; I know you'd never hurt me now. And...I know you need me too". You continue, your voice low. "I want you. More than anyone else".

The words visibly shake him. He drops his head, staring into his lap, then slowly brings his head back up and gazes at you. You're taken aback by the open desire you see there. It's as if a mask has fallen off and you're seeing the real him for the first time.

When he speaks, it's slowly, deliberately.

"I want to know you that way, MC...More intimately than anyone ever has." His eyes start to glow a fierce purple. "You're mine, and I want to be your first. I want to give you something to remember me by when you go back to the human world." You swallow hard, your heart starting to race and nod.

He leans forward, takes your face between his hands, and kisses you. And again. Deeply, tongue reaching hungrily into your mouth. You whimper against his lips, full of want.

You give yourself over completely to his touch. His hands are on your face, guiding the movement of your heads. It feels so good, all the strength leaves you, and you fully let him hold you up. Between kisses, he makes small sounds of passion.

"You drive me crazy" he murmurs, looking into your eyes. A thrill runs up your spine. He's here, fully here - with you. No distance. Not a trace of sleepiness. In this moment of closeness, Belphie has completely overcome his sin.

You gasp as his fingers effortlessly snap off the button to your jeans with an audible pop. "Oops", he says, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

He leans you back onto the covers. Continuing to kiss you, he slides his hand into your jeans and caresses your lower stomach, playing with the hollow of your hip bone. Ticklish, you sharply draw in a breath, causing him to smile at you. "Don't be nervous" he says reassuringly. "I'll take care of you".

He sides your pants down, and then completely takes them off. You shiver, all at once feeling vulnerable.

"Mmmm..." He murmurs, looking over your body. "You're so beautiful. I've dreamed about getting to touch you like this". He reverently slides his hands up and down your thighs, your hips, your waist. Goosebumps raise up at his touch.

Holding your gaze, he leans down and pulls your shirt over your head then sits upright and does the same for himself. His hair is even more disheveled afterward and the thought of it being that way because you're in bed together turns you on.

Even though you've napped together endlessly, you've never seen this much of his body, and you sigh with pleasure drinking in the width of his shoulders, his flat stomach. He watches you just as avidly and the small smile returns as he sees the effect he has on you.

Leaning in, Belphie captures your lips once more in a steamy kiss. Running his hands up your shoulders, he cups your cheeks, then traces down your back and unhooks your bra. You respond by thrusting your own hands into his hair and pulling him to you.

He kisses his way down your chest and your stomach, where his lips leave little trails of fire on your skin. You try but can't remember ever feeling more aroused. He playfully nips your belly button as it goes by, and smiles when you jump and protest, eyes glinting.

Belphie stops between your legs, breathing out slowly, and kisses up one of your thighs. At the top he hugs it to his face, cheek pressing into the flesh. Pausing, he looks at you sideways and says, "I've wanted to do this since we met".

Taking his time, he hooks your panties with one finger and pulls them down. Admiring the view, he runs a finger down your core, lightly teasing your clit. You sigh, then jump when he gives a jerk. "You're so fucking wet down here" he utters in awed tones.

Seeing you so excited for him seems to unhinge him a little. Looking at your soaked slit with total attention, he raises his finger to his lips and lightly sucks off your excitement. His eyes flutter close and a low groan of desire escapes him. Leaning in, he buries his face in your folds. His soft tongue pushes roughly against your swollen clit and it's your turn to gasp.

He continues to work on you for a few minutes. The pleasure overwhelms you, but still, you want him deeper. Parts of yourself you aren't familiar with are showing up and demanding to be satisfied. You try to stretch your legs further and wider apart so his tongue can reach every needy part of you. More than happy to help, he greedily tongues your tight hole. "B-Belphie!" Your voice rises as you near your climax. He reaches one hand up and laces your fingers through his. "Go ahead, MC...I've got you, you're safe. I want to taste you when you cum." Soothed, you let yourself go fully, shuddering, waves of euphoria threatening to drown you. "Mmmm..." Belphie says contentedly. You can feel his lips as he captures every last drop on his tongue.

You collapse into the pillows as the pleasure ebbs away, but he doesn't give you time to rest. You feel manicured fingers slide into your slippery hole. At first, it's a gentle in-and-out getting you used to the sensation. You squirm, your flesh still sensitive from his earlier attentions. After a few moments, he picks up the pace and starts pushing into you faster and deeper, turning and curling the digits. Mewling with every thrust, you blush bright red, still a little self-conscious From his place cradled between your legs, he watches your face possessively. "I love your sounds", he says.

Pleasure begins to fill your abdomen once again as you near climax, and you involuntarily start to grind against his hand, desperate to increase the tempo. Loving your impatience, he dips his head down and bites you on the inside of your thigh, near your core. Surprised by the unexpected sensation, you're pushed over the edge, launching into oblivion for the second time. This time he can't help himself and covers your mouth in a passionate kiss, jealously swallowing your cries of pleasure.

Thoroughly ravaged, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Belphie looks back at you, spellbound by the state you're in. "B...Belphie", you manage to get out. "What, MC?" he softly answers. "I need you inside me", you pleadingly say to his violet eyes. He shudders and pulls back from you.

"Okay", he says, unfastening his pants button. He pulls them down and his length springs out, large, strong, and perfect. Dazzled, your mouth drops open slightly. He smiles confidently at you and crawls back up your body. Once there, he turns your hips so you're lying on your back with your hips to one side, lined up to your exposed slit on his knees. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing it, testing its softness, before bringing his hands back to grip your hip with both hands. "Tell me if I hurt you", he says with unexpected tenderness and starts to push inside you.

Due to the position of your hips and your overall tightness, his first thrust is shallow, but the friction makes you both groan. Pulling out slowly, drawing out the pleasure, he pushes inside again, going slightly deeper. Your eyes roll back in your head. He feels blissful, way past anything you had imagined.

Using your hip to pull your ass against his lap, he starts to move more quickly. With abandon, you throw your arms against the covers above your head, your face falling to one side and breasts jiggling as the snap of his thrusts push you up and down. Also lost in pleasure, his eyes are closed and low groans rumble from his throat.

It doesn't take long for you to climax again, and then again. Your walls clenching tightly around him, each climax earns you a growl, but Belphie shows no signs of giving you mercy. Finally, even though you wish it could last forever, he thrusts deeply within you and you feel his warmth spread into your abdomen.

Completely spent, you lay together in the candlelight, your head on his chest, legs intertwined. Your core aches sweetly. He holds you close. Happier than you've felt in your entire life, you both start to drop off. As you do, you raise your head to look at him, and you see he's already asleep. Full of affection, your chin on his chest, you breathe, "Thank you for granting my wish". Seconds later, fading into darkness you hear him whisper, "I love you, too".

#obey me swd #obey me reader insert #obey me smut #obey me!#obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #belphie x mc #swd belphie #belphie #swd: obey me #obey me writing #obey me imagines

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poguestvff · 3 years

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LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #wheezie cameron #wheezie cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron

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vdlest · 3 years

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You left something

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Bucky Barnes x ExAvenger!Reader

Summary:

It has been a year since you left the life of being an Avenger. But after a year, someone showed up in your house, telling you that you left something when you left your old life. What could it be?

Warning:

Swearing

Mention of sex/one night stand

Fluff

Bucky being soft (it's a warning, right?)

One of the best years of your life was being an avenger. You were one of the greatest assets of the team, that's why when you left the team, they had a big loss. It wasn't really your intention to leave the life you had, but when Steve disappeared, Tony and Nat died, you were deeply devastated. You and the rest of Avengers like Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Clint, Bruce, Thor, the Guardians, and Spider-man continued what the original six started. However, one heated argument between you and Bucky made you leave the team — after a mission in Norway, you comforted Bucky when you saw him alone in the roof of the compound, you told him that he shouldn't let sadness take over him and his life, but Bucky didn't liked it. He exploded and told you that instead of Steve, Nat, and Tony, it should have been you who died and disappeared.

The very next day after your argument with Bucky, you left the compound and you just left them a letter, telling them how sorry you were for leaving them. You told them that you are not worthy anymore to be part of them, so you made a sacrifice, leaving the old life you had.

Upon leaving the Avengers, you moved to a small city in California. You started your own farm there and live in a peaceful life, but sometimes you miss being on the team, especially when you see them on the news.

But you had to make a sacrifice. After all, you think you're not worthy enough, not like what Tony, Steve, and Nat has always been telling you.

They're gone, and so is your faith in yourself.

•••

You're in the middle of painting your front porch when you heard someone walking towards you. Your back is facing the front yard of your house, so you don't know if someone's coming or not, but because of your super hearing, you heard that someone is walking behind you.

You got up from painting the base of your porch and turned around to see who was walking towards you.

It's the most unexpected guest you ever had in your entire life — it's the man who made you decide to leave your old life, James Buchanan Barnes.

You avoided his gaze and continue whatever you are doing.

"Y/n," you heard him called you, but you just continue with what you're doing.

"What are you doing here, Barnes?" you asked him without looking at him.

"It took us so long before we could finally trace your actions for the past year. Did you really think we wouldn't find you?" he asked you.

You knew it was Wanda who always wanted to find you. She's your friend. It was you, Nat, and Wanda who had always been friends, but after Nat died and after Wanda disappeared, you lost the only friends you had. Eight months ago, you found out from the news that Wanda came back, more powerful and more capable of helping other people. You knew she wouldn't stop until she found you.

But why is Bucky Barnes who came after you and not Wanda?

"Ever since you left, all of us did everything what we could do to find you, but hell, you are good in hiding. Even Dr. Strange and Wanda cannot find you," Bucky continued talking as he walk closer to you.

You chuckled sarcastically, "Can't you just go straight to the point? Why are you really here?" you put down your paintbrush and faced him, "What do you need from me?"

He took one last step closer to you, "I need you to come back to the team."

The moment you heard him said that, you laughed and walked towards your tool shed. He followed you and you could see how confuse he is when he heard you laugh at him.

"What is so funny?" he asked you.

"You are funny, Barnes," you stopped from opening the door of your tool shed and faced him, "You were the one who wanted me to be out of the team, right? You told me that instead of Nat, Steve, and Tony, it should've been just me who died and disappeared. You remember that?" you asked him, fighting the emotion that is stsrting to build inside you.

He did not answer you and you see guilt in his eyes. But it's already too late for him to feel that way — he already caused you so much pain.

"Why don't you just go back to where you came from and leave me alone? You wanted this right? You wanted me to be gone? So here I am, I've been gone for a year. What else do you need from me?" you asked him.

You resumed in opening the door of your tool shed but before you could finally opened it, you heard him spoke again.

"When you left the team, you left something in there," he said.

You have no idea what he was talking about. When you left the compound, you made sure you got all your things and other belongings. So you have no idea what something you left when you left the compound.

"Me."

You rapidly turned around to face him once again.

"What the hell are you saying?" you asked him unbelievably.

"You left me feeling guilty for what I did and say to you. You left me and I wasn't able to ask for forgiveness for what I did. You left me hanging. And most importantly, you left me wanting you," he said continuously. You did not noticed that in every word he says, he is walking closer to you, and in ever step he does, you move back, but you stopped moving the moment you felt the door of the tool shed behind you, "The night you and I had an argument, I was having a rough time. I didn't know how I could live a life without my best friend, Steve. I wasn't ready to move on, but you kept on telling me to move on."

Your eyes remained on his gaze. You didn't even had the guts to move away or push him away. It seems like you were hypnotized by the way he looks at you and how he caged you between his body and the tool shed's door.

"I didn't mean any word I said that night to you. I don't want you to die or be gone as well. I want you to stay with me until the end."

When you heard him say those words to you, you came back to your senses. You pushed him away and walked away from him. It's not a surprise that he followed you.

"Y/n, I am telling the truth," he said while following you. "I thought I was just feeling guilty the whole time you were gone. Everybody is blaming me for your disappearance, and I thought I was just guilty about the fact that it was really my fault why you left. But no, it's not just about the guilt. It's about the longing I felt when you left."

"Longing?!" you growled as you stop from walking. You turned around and faced him, "You long for the person you wished to die and just disappear?" you scoffed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, "Do you have any idea how painful it is for me to hear those words coming from you? You, of all people, Bucky! You, of all people, said those words to me and made me feel like I'm just a nobody in your life! You made me feel I'm just a fucking whore you fucked once, and that was it! You made me believe that there's something special growing between us, but I was God damn wrong!"

Before you left the compound and the Avengers life, you and Bucky shared a beautiful moment together. You were with him when he visited Yori and apologized for the death of his son. After that, he asked you if you could stay with him for a while and he'll cook dinner for both of you. And so he did, soon after your dinner, you found yourself giving in and kissing him back. You thought it was the start of something beautiful and something deep with him, but after a week, he exploded to you and told you harsh things you never thought you could hear from him.

"I thought we're onto something good, Bucky. But it was just all a fucking thought," you wiped your tears away as soon as you felt them on your cheeks.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way, y/n," he walked towards you and cupped your face. You wanted to avoid his touch but your body did not oblige to your will, "I was just lost at that time. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I was ready to give my all to you and just lose you. I thought by pushing you away, it would be less complicated for both of us. I can't afford to lose another person in my life. But I still did lose you."

Your tears continue to run down your cheeks as you listen to his words, his explanation.

You told yourself a million times, the next time you'll see him, you'll break his face, his bones. But you couldn't, especially seeing him now this close.

"Everyday, I hated myself for hurting you and letting you leave just like that. Everyday, I am regretting the words I pierced through you. And everyday, I am killing myself for wasting the beautiful start we had," he uses his thumb to wiped your tears away, "I tried my best to find you, to take you back, to apologize, and to have you again by my side, because without you, I am nothing, y/n. And I am not saying these words just because I've made a mistake to you. I am saying these words because I want to have you back in my life."

You looked down, making him remove his hands on your face, "I...I don't know if...if I could trust you again, Bucky."

You were too scared to trust him again, especially with your heart.

"You're asking me to give you my full trust again, Bucky. And it's a big thing to ask from someone who got scared of trusting people again," you said while looking down.

He uses his hand to hold your chin and make you look up to meet his gaze again, "I am willing to do anything to earn your trust again. I am not forcing you to do it right away, but I will earn your trust in every possible way I can," he seems like he was vowing or promising. "But I did not come all the way here just for your trust, y/n."

Your brows furrowed with what he said.

"I also came here to be worthy of your love."

Before you could say anything, he grabbed one of your hands and placed it against his chest, where his heart is.

"Because when you left, you left this one as well," he said referring to his heart.

You imagined countless times that you want Bucky to suffer and feel the pain you felt when you left everything behind because of him. But after a year of hiding your love for him with anger, you finally realized that it wasn't anger at all, it has always been love. Your heart has always been with him. You thought, why make him suffer when you can make him earn what he lost from the times that you've been away from each other — your trust & your love for him.

You hated him because he hurt you, but after hearing his explanation, it all made sense to you.

You are still in love with Bucky Barnes.

-v.dl

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years

Text

Angel’s Touch (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my long overdue contribution to @rosepetals-flyingbirds‘ challenge. I’m sorry it took me so long, babe 💖 I’ve been going through a lot lately (including the loss of a loved one) and I wasn’t in the mood to write 😔

The prompt, as usual, is in bold.

Thanks to the lovely @geekandbooknerd for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

The gif belongs to @therealcalicali 💐

Summary: Ivar's always been very secretive when it comes to his legs. How is he going to react when you tell him you want to know all of him?

Warnings: angst; fluff at the end; Ivar’s insecurities; soft and vulnerable Ivar.

Words: 4600

"I'm coming!" you shout enthusiastically, wrapping a soft towel around your body before closing the bathroom door behind you.

Wincing at your words, Ivar hastily hides his legs under the comforter. "That was a close one…", he mumbles while breathing a sigh of relief. Deep down, he knows he's not doing the right thing. Avoiding the problem will not make it go away.

He can't help himself, though. He still has nightmares about that awful night with Margrethe. It was years ago, yet memories of her disgusted look as well as her eyes full of pity still haunt his nights, vivid and humiliating.

He doesn't want to go through that again. It would be unbearable and painful, much worse than the dull ache he's used to enduring every day. No, he definitely can't relive it. Shuddering at this thought, Ivar squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists tight.

He won't allow it. He can't. Because he's not sure he can get over it again. After Margrethe, he had been broken – more broken than his broken bones – for so long. It had taken him years of therapy to stop being disgusted by himself, to stop hating himself for what he was. A freak. It had taken him years to endure looking at himself in a mirror. And it had taken him years to imagine sharing a bed with a woman again.

Oh, of course, he had fucked every so often. He needed it after the complete fiasco with Margrethe. He had to prove himself that he could… But it had always been in a hurry, and with random, uninteresting women. Till you…

You. You're not random, and definitely not uninteresting. You're beautiful and smart, patient and funny, warmhearted and caring but never overbearing. You're… perfect, he thinks, and it scares him as much as it makes him shiver with excitement. On top of that, so far you don't seem bothered by his legs and he wants to keep it that way.

His legs. His fucking legs. The averted elephant in the room. Well, averted… more or less. Because if you've never seen them, you know the braces, the crutches, the uneven gait and he's pretty sure you've figured out his pain. But you two never talk about them. He knows that you understood from the beginning that they were, they are a major issue for him. You're smart enough for that.

Yet, you never bring them up and he couldn't be more grateful. He's very aware that he can't keep going like this for long. But he doesn't know how to address what is, to him, a huge matter of concern. He's afraid you'll go away as soon as you realize how damaged his legs are, how crippled he really is. He doesn't want to lose you. He can't. That would be insufferable. And he knows exactly why. It's not just that he likes you, that sex is great, and that you're fun to be around, no… He's helplessly falling in love with you. It may be terrifying, but it's no less true.

That's why he does what he does. That's why he's always hurrying up, hiding, avoiding. It doesn't matter if it leads sometimes to awkward situations. It doesn't matter if you're not fooled. All that matters is that you don't see his legs; not for a long time anyway; and most preferably never.

Inhaling deeply, Ivar slips his hands under the comforter, rubs his scrawny, bony, twisted thighs, feeling their scarred skin and grunting in disgust. He knows he's wrong, he knows he's not going anywhere, but he can't help. He can't risk losing you.

***

More sad than irritated, you hardly stifle a sigh as you enter the room. Once again, Ivar is unsurprisingly already in bed, his fluffy comforter keeping his legs out of sight.

His legs… A fucking huge elephant in the room… It's amazing – not in a good way – how something that's never addressed can take up so much space.

The truth is, you know a lot about them. Being a son of Ragnar, the man who rules Scandinavia – at least economically but surely politically too, with friends in the right places and enough money to corrupt them – didn't allow Ivar to grow up in the shadow. Ivar's life therefore has always been on display, making headlines more often than not. So you know about his disease and its inherent struggles, about the surgeries and about the pain – well, now you even witness it sometimes, and the way he always tries to hide it is heartwrenching.

You know more than you'd like to since you even know about his supposed failing sex life, that bitch whose name you've long forgotten having told her story to everyone around. It doesn't matter though, as you can testify that Ivar's cock is far from dysfunctional.

Anyway, if you know a lot – truths or lies – about his condition and about his legs, you don't know them. And you're aware it has to change. You just don't know how. You can't be too straightforward or Ivar will close up on you. Yet you can't let things go on like this for too long, because it's unhealthy. And an unhealthy relationship with Ivar is the last thing you want, both for his and your sake.

Somehow always in your mind, his legs make things awkward. Sex is great, but could even be better, for they prevent you from being spontaneous. The last thing you want is to make Ivar, the man you're falling in love with, uncomfortable. So, you don't speak about them because you can feel he doesn't want to speak about them. You don't look at them because his tight jaw is unmistakable each time your eyes wander to his lower body. You do your best never to touch them, which isn't easy when you share his bed. In short, most of the time you act as if they don't exist. And this has got to stop.

You can't let this unspoken thing continue to grow between the two of you or it will end up becoming a problem that will eat you up, you do know it with utmost certainty. You won't allow it. You can't. Ivar is important to you, to say the least, and you're pretty sure he reciprocates your feelings. You see it in his huge blue eyes that sparkle each time he looks at you; you hear it in the softness of his tone each time he talks to you.

So yeah, the whole situation annoys you. It doesn't mean that his legs annoy you. They don't. You won't lie, you're a little nervous about them. How could you not, given how sensitive a subject they are? Will you say the right thing? Do the right thing? Will you hurt Ivar unwillingly? Just thinking about it, about them, makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells. Ivar is being very touchy when it comes to them, to those-legs-we-mustn't-talk-about, it seems to you that the slightest word could ruin everything. And you don't want that. Gods, you don't. Yet, you're not sure how to handle well something that important.

That's the point. His legs are that important. They shouldn't be. They shouldn't matter. They don't matter. Of course, you're not stupid. Ivar has a disability, there's no denying it. But it doesn't define him, right? What defines him is his outstanding intelligence, his sharp mind, and his deadpan, ironic humour. And well, if you're being honest, his ridiculous handsomeness too… It might sound shallow, but… who cares?

Anyway, enough is enough. Things must change and you're sure Ivar won't be the one initiating the change. It leaves you no choice, you know it. Your heart hammering in your chest, you rub your sweaty palms together before inhaling deeply. That's it. Let it be done. The sooner the better.

***

"Are you not coming?" Ivar's blue eyes are scrutinizing you from under furrowed brows as you scrabble around in your small overnight bag, as an idea has just popped into your head.

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you barely nod while swallowing the lump in your throat. "Of course I am, give me a minute." You reply after a while, sounding more confident than you feel. But you know it's a good idea. It could be the first step. It could work. It has to work.

Your hands are shaking but your heart is filled with hope when you eventually find what you were looking for. "Here it is.", you mutter, a tentative smile playing on your lips as you turn towards your lover, who looks at the silk scarf in your hand with a mischievous grin.

"What is it on your naughty mind?" He asks playfully, tilting his head in his very own way, the one that melts your heart each and every time. "You want to blindfold me, Y/N?" His low, deep voice sends shivers down your spine. "Or maybe you'd rather be blindfolded? It's up to you, I'm totally on board with either one." He swallows heavily, and when he licks his upper lip and then the lower in a slow-moving and sensual motion, a familiar warmth spreads in your lower belly.

Of course, he had to misread the situation. And you, you're so easily, pathetically flustered! Closing your eyes to push away any distracting thoughts, you inhale deeply while just shaking your head no as you don't trust yourself to speak right now.

Raising a brow, Ivar gives you a questioning look. "So, what is it about, then?" His tone is more serious now, you can almost feel a hint of uneasiness in his voice as if a part of his brain already suspects what's in your mind.

"Actually, I want to be blindfolded, but not to do what you're thinking about." You explain, shyly lowering your gaze. "I'd like to try something." You speak in a whisper but with honesty, fidgeting with the little silver Mjölnir – a gift from Ivar – you wear around your neck. "If it's okay with you." You add, your shaky voice giving away your nervousness.

Confused, Ivar looks at you with knitted brows. Since you don't want to explain further – because you're sure that if you told him of your plan, he would deny you – you just climb on the bed, kneel next to him and bring the scarf to your face, wrapping it around your head and over your eyes before tying it in the back with a tight knot.

Being blinded like that, even if it's of your own volition, is quite unsettling, you must say. You feel weirdly exposed, vulnerable, in your tiny shorts and a tank top and you have to inhale and exhale slowly several times in order to calm your nerves.

Uncertain, Ivar keeps quiet, his breathing just a little bit shorter than usual. "Y/N?" His hesitant voice startles you and you swallow, biting your inner cheek.

You know you have to take action, the sooner the better. So you fumble blindly on the bed and as you find Ivar's hand, you bring it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one after the other while your free hand slips under the comforter.

His breath hitches, yet Ivar doesn't react, doesn't stop you, as you slowly lift the comforter, pulling it away. But when your fingers graze what you think is his thigh, he grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it.

"What…" Ivar stutters, his grip tight enough to bruise your delicate skin, "… What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice, barely audible, is nothing more than a shaky whisper that wrings your heart.

Yet, you won't back down. "Let me, Ivar, please…" You beg softly, but to no avail. Ivar rushes his words, panic coursing through his veins. "Stop Y/N! Don't, please don't, I… They are… They are ugly. I… I can't." That's it. He can't. Just thinking of you exposing his disgusting legs, he feels like throwing up. He can't.

Hearing your lover so upset, and maybe even close to tears, is heartbreaking. Raising your free hand, you find his arm, then his shoulder, his neck, and finally his face, which you cup tenderly.

"You do know I won't see them, don't you?" You ask carefully, peppering light kisses along his jaw while trying to slow down the frantic pace of your own heart.

Ivar doesn't miss a beat, pushing you away gently but very firmly. "You don't need your sight to feel how hideous they are." Almost convinced to give up by his broken voice, you struggle to keep in mind that postponing the problem can't be a solution.

"That's what you think about them, how you see them, Ivar, that's not what they are." Your tone soft and soothing, you're trying to convey how much you care. "And it's certainly not how I'm going to see or to feel them."

"How would you know?" You can tell that he shifts in the bed to sit upright, his back against the headboard. His fingers still around your wrist, you have to stifle a hiss of pain when he changes position.

"Because they are a part of you. Nothing from you, or about you, can be ugly." You wince, realizing that you've just opened up to him more than you would have liked. But well, speaking your mind isn't a bad thing, right?

As Ivar, dumbstruck, keeps quiet, you decide to strike the iron while it's hot. Once again finding his cheek, your thumb lightly strokes it while you speak. "Let me touch them, Ivar…"

You know him well enough to be sure that right now, a storm is clouding his features. But as his breathing starts to quicken and as his grip on your wrist loosens, you understand that he's more frightened than angry. "Please…" You plead, aiming blindly a reassuring smile in his direction.

"But… Wh… Why?" He's never felt so scared, not even with Margrethe. Even if the rational part of him knows you're right, he won't give up yet, not without fighting. "Why… Why does it have to be? You don't need to touch those fucking…", swallowing, he closes his eyes briefly, "… you don't need to touch my legs, Y/N. You don't. We could just go on like this, as we have done up to now. Believe me, it will be better like that."

"No, it won't." You sigh, shaking your head. Ivar's distress may break your heart, yet you're more and more convinced that this is the right thing to do. "Let me touch them, Ivar, please…" You simply repeat, your free hand still on his cheek.

"Why… Why is it so important to you?" As soon as the words escape his lips, he regrets them, wishes he could take them back. He should have said no. Why didn't he say no? Slapping himself internally, he rolls his eyes, annoyed as much by his own stupidity as by your stubbornness.

You answer in a sweet whisper, placing your hand on his chest. He's sure you can feel the crazy thumping of his heart under your palm. "Because your legs are a part of you, and I want to know everything about you. Will you let me, Ivar?"

Ivar, deeply moved by your words, is eager to believe them. But on the other hand, it's so… frightening; unsettling. Not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone, he feels like he's being ripped apart, and gods, he hates it! "I… I don't know… I'm… not sure…" He eventually stammers almost unwillingly, more or less denying you once more, yet his resolution starts to falter, and he knows you can hear it.

Even more surprising, it's as if his body betrayed him, his fingers finally releasing your wrist. As you gasp, astonished and pleased, he ponders for a few moments before deciding – if deciding something against what seems to be your own will is even a thing – he won't stop you. He knows he could, but he also knows you're right. So, conflicted and petrified with fear, he just waves his hand, wiggling his fingers, and mumbles under his breath a faint "go ahead" that you almost miss.

"Is that a 'yes', Ivar?" Full of hope and with what you're sure is a beaming smile on your lips, you intertwine your fidgeting fingers and put your hands on your lap, anxiously awaiting his reply.

His jaw clenched, Ivar just nods. At first, he doesn't realize that you can't see him. As the silence drags on, he furrows his brows, confused, before breathing a hesitant answer. "Yeahhh…" Digging his fingernails into his palms, he waits for your next move, almost like someone awaiting a death sentence.

Sensing his anxiousness, you raise your hands and then move them very slowly, willing to give Ivar time to stop you if he needs to. Since he doesn't utter a word nor grab your wrists, you keep going, your fingers grazing what surely is his lower belly before finding the hem of his cotton boxer shorts.

Intensely aware of the importance of the moment, you can't help but swallow loudly, your stomach tied in knots. You started all this, and even if you're still not sure if it's the right time – will there ever be a right time for this? – you have to keep going. But you're scared. What if it'll push Ivar over the edge? What if it is too much for him? What if you won't handle this as well as you think you will? You don't want to lose him. Your mind suddenly filled with doubts, you do the only thing you can think of, and send a silent prayer to the gods, hoping they can help the two of you.

Holding his breath, Ivar looks at your hands as if he was hypnotized. His eyes wide open, he can't move, can't speak, utterly terrified of what is to come. He knows he should trust you. Maybe he does. But he doesn't trust himself. No, that's not true. Most of the time, Ivar doesn't lack self-confidence. He knows his worth. He's aware of the strength of his intelligence, his cunning. He knows about his good looks – even if they're quite useless; or about his highly appreciated caustic humour. And as he's no fool, he knows that being a Ragnarsson – name, wealth, all the stuff – is a major asset. Yet, when it comes to his legs, he's nothing more than a frightened little boy, so anxious that he's ready to fall apart. Feeling ashamed, self-conscious, and helpless, he's wondering how much tenser he can become until he physically shatters. Conflicted, he wants you to stop as well as he wants you to keep going. This has to be done. This should never be done. He's in love with you. You will never love him. You won't hurt him. He'll be hurt once again. Hectic, opposing thoughts are constantly fighting in his mind, leaving him frozen in fear and panicked. So, since he can't think straight, he does the only thing he can think of and sends a silent prayer to the gods. May they help him; help you.

Uselessly closing your eyes behind the blindfold, you gather your strength. Ivar didn't stop you. That's good. That means he wants you to do it, right? Inhaling deeply, you try to stop the shaking in your hands, and then, slightly leaning forward, you let your fingertips run over his thighs, barely touching them. You forget how to breathe and Ivar is so still, so quiet, you think he's not breathing either.

As you become bolder, you place the flat of your hands on his legs, careful not to apply any pressure. Under your palms, you can feel every bump, every scar, every broken bone. Your movements intentionally agonizingly slow, your hands move down to his protruding knee caps before finding his atrophied calves, their wasted muscles evident to the touch. You can't think how painful walking, or even just standing up, must be. The thought spreads a dull ache in your chest, but you keep your face emotionless, aware that if you can't see him, Ivar can see you. Rather than dwelling on it, you continue exploring, and when your fingers brush against the sole of one of his misshaped, scrawny feet, Ivar flinches. "Sorry," you mumble, "I didn't know you were ticklish." Since Ivar doesn't react, you're not sure he heard you and decide to slowly move your hands up his legs, placing them back on his bony thighs.

Keeping his eyes on you the whole time, Ivar struggles to breathe, his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage. He's surprised, he must say. He expected to see disgust or pity on your face, but there's none of that. Of course, he can't see your eyes, but a small smile never leaves your lips. Could it be that you're not disgusted? In any case, you don't seem troubled by what you're feeling. Maybe you're hiding it, but if so, you're hiding it well. He's also surprised because he expected to hate every moment of the process. Himself, he's all the time trying to avoid touching his legs. He hates PT sessions and doctor's appointments with a passion for a reason. But your touch is… enjoyable if he can push away all his doubts and his awful thoughts. It strikes him all of a sudden: it's probably the first time someone touches his legs for no reason at all. They were regularly massaged, checked for injuries, examined, palpated; of course, they were. But there was always a medical reason. Even when his mother touched them, it was to ease the pain. But you… you decided to touch his ugly limbs just because you wanted to. And just now, he realizes how much he missed that. Can he really miss something he's never known? He's not sure, but here he is, enjoying your featherlike touch, craving it, not wanting it to stop. Yes, he likes it; needs it. But what if, after tonight, you don't want to touch them again? He wouldn't blame you, who would want to touch such repulsive things? The thought brings bile to his throat and he knows it won't stop plaguing his mind. So he has to know, whatever it takes. Moving for the first time, he runs a trembling hand through his hair and summons all his courage.

"You… you didn't say a word." His quivering voice startles you, making your heart swell with sadness. You don't need your eyes to know that Ivar is filled with dread. The need to reassure him compels you to blindly fumble on the bed until you find his hand, which you grasp between yours. "What do you want me to say?" You ask cautiously, your thumb lightly stroking his knuckles.

You can feel Ivar stiffening, his fingernails probably bruising your palms as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I…" He stops to swallow. "The… truth, Y/N. Go ahead, speak your mind. You… you touched…" He stutters, and you're willing to bet his eyes are tightly shut, his tone giving away his level of anxiety. "… you touched them. My legs, I mean. I know… I know how they feel, ugly and disgusting… no need to sugarcoat your thoughts… I… I can handle the truth…" His voice cracks at the end, contradicting his words.

Releasing his hand, you graze his right thigh with gentle fingers. "No, Ivar", you speak softly yet firmly, "that's not how they feel, at least not to me." You know you have to be honest, you can't just say nonsensical, lovey-dovey things, he won't buy it. "I won't tell you they feel beautiful. They don't." Choosing your words carefully, you let your pointer finger follow a massive scar from his mid-thigh to his knee. "They feel different, and yes, you can feel the scars. It must have been painful, it's probably still is. But I promise you, they're not disgusting. They're your legs. They say a lot, Ivar. They're telling a story, your story. That's why I wanted to know them because as I said earlier, I want to know all about you. And they are part of you. I do think they finally deserve to be cared about, to be loved. Let me love them…" You whisper the last words, feeling vulnerable. 'Let me love you…' is what you want to add, but you know you can't, not yet, so instead you lean forward, your lips brushing and then kissing his thigh.

Something between a whine and a choked sob escapes his lips and you can hear his breath hitch as his hand gets up close to your neck. "Did I hurt you?" You ask with concern, frowning behind the blindfold.

Ivar can't help but smile, even if you can't see it. "No!" he replies quickly, his hand now on the back of your head. "I wasn't expecting that, the kiss I mean, but I… liked it." He explains shyly, surprised by his own words. "Actually, I loved it." He's not lying. He loved the kiss, he loved your words; it's as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted off of him. Part of him tells him not to believe everything you said, but he decides not to. He didn't hear any malice or mischief in your voice. He knows you were being genuine. That's why, choosing to chase the disbelief away, he decides to trust you completely. And that's why, suddenly, without warning, he pulls off the blindfold.

"What are you doing, Ivar?" You squeak, immediately closing your eyes and picking up the comforter. But as you intend to cover his legs, Ivar grabs your wrists with both hands. "Just leave it where it is." He retorts before letting out a heavy sigh. "And open your eyes."

You do as you're told, but keep your eyes on his face. There are tears in his eyes and a whirlwind of emotions. "Just look at them, Y/N." He almost commands you, but you know that's a way to hide his true feelings behind bravado.

Blinking a few times and scrunching your face, you tilt your head to the side, scrutinizing him. "Are you sure?"

Your lover just shrugs, biting his lower lip. "Will I ever be?" Taking a deep breath, he adds in a murmur. "But I trust you."

***

Later that night, as you're sound asleep, your head on his chest and his arm around your waist, Ivar can't get sleep, amazed that you didn't run away. He keeps replaying what you did when you saw his legs. You had just smiled. And kissed them one more time. And then thanked him for trusting you, for allowing you to love them. Moved and overwhelmed, he could see the matching tears in your eyes, but no sadness on your face. What he saw instead was relief, and care, and… love?

Kissing your head, he mumbles. "It is I who should be thanking you. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, but whatever it was, I'm glad. If angels are real, you're mine. I won't let you go, Y/N, never ever."

"I love you…" He finally whispers, taking advantage of your slumber. Well, little does he know you're awake but staying perfectly still. You know you weren't meant to hear those three words, not yet. And it doesn't matter. You can wait. You and Ivar have a lifetime to love each other.

All of him. All of you.

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa

#ivar #ivars heathen army #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x reader #modern-ivar #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar fanfic #ivar fic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings fic #vikings

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moonlightflower21 · 3 years

Text

just like magic

a/n: angsty fluffy. normal raph. there may be mistakes and it may be hard to follow through lol. but i hope you enjoy ❤

"y/n!! wait, please wait!!" the call of raph desperately trying to reach you fell on deaf ears as you angrily walked into the public so he couldn't come close.

it was so hard to decipher what you were feeling. betrayal, anger, sadness, embarrassment, pain. sometimes it felt like you couldn't even catch a break. he had been acting so suspicious and you couldn't help but recall what your best friend had said earlier, that when a boyfriend stop texting and calling back they were sleeping around.

he couldn't.... could he?

that one girl, amber, from the chief vincent crew had been crushing on him forever. you learnt that raph and her had a small fling years ago, before he ever met you. but other than that, you didn't know much else other than the fact that she absolutely hated your guts. the feeling was mutual of course but she never failed to make any small digs at you whenever you were together.

so when she came out of his room wearing nothing but lingerie, it wasn't an understatement to say your heart felt it had been stomped on the floor. leo, mikey and donnie were all out with their significant others so they couldn't even provide any help or shed any light on why she was in your boyfriend room

the reason as to why you came around was because you thought of surprising him, considering you hadn't even seen him for the last two weeks. he seemed to vanish for hours on end and while you didn't want to jump to any conclusions, you just had to talk to him. but seeing her come out of his room that he let no one in felt like a punch to the gut.

"when will you ever learn? first loves outshine any other" amber cackled in your face, swaying her hips as she left the lair. you couldn't even speak scared you would start crying on the spot. and the last thing you wanted was to give her the satisfaction.

you entered the room but aside her horrible perfume stinking the air, raph was nowhere to be seen. hell his bed looked empty. untouched. and yet his window was open, so perhaps he escaped? the more reasonable part of you disagreed vehemently, he wouldn't do this shit. and you couldn't trust that woman, she was out to drive you both apart

but this wasn't excusable either. the air felt constricting here, walls falling in closer so you left. angry tears on the brink of falling, the excited evening you had planned obliterated in small pieces.

---

the small bench in the park was empty and you sat, trying to reel in those thoughts but they proved to be a challenge.

"y/n please listen to me, i can explain everything i swear" you rolled your eyes but stood up. hearing his part would at least put your mind at ease and those burning questions could finally be answered.

"you get one chance raphael. let's go to my place, i don't want other people listening in" you look into his pleading eyes, turning the corner and walking home with him eagerly following you close.

raph entered your room, thankful for the heat that flooded his system. he didn't realise how long he was outside and how cold he was until he bagn to shake slightly. he turned his attention to you as you shrugged odd your jacket, brows raised at him.

"no more secrets, raph. no more lies otherwise we're done" you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. he nodded, ready to answer the oncoming slaught of questions that had been scorching holes in your chest.

"who is amber? and do you still have any feelings towards her??" your voice trembled a little at the end of that sentence, hoping her put your mind at ease. his jaw seem to clench slightly at the memory of her which brought some amusement.

"she's someone i thought i was in love wit'. 17 years old me didn't know shit at the time. after a while, i knew whatever we had was just infatuation. it was never gonna work out. she wanted a relationship while i was looking for something small. but that's in my past. i don't have any love towards her anymore. she was just a silly crush"

"she was your crush? doesn't seem like it" "she was. ya can't be mad at that because you've also crushed on guys before i came but that's a good thing! because they led us closer to each other and look at us" he holds your hand, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles which was something he usually did to reduce your stress. and against your will, you could feel those familiar butterflies invade your lower belly.

"but why was she in your room? looking very cosy in there, i might add" your jaw clenched tightly, glaring at the floor in order to contain your anger.

"she what?? y/n i promise i had no idea why amber was even in my room. i wasn't even there. in fact, i'm barely ever there most days" he rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating the last part.

"why?" your brow lifts and he sighs, grimacing.

"well... i... uh... got a job" he chuckles awkwardly, expecting you to burst in laughter. but you just seemed to have a confused look, intrigued at his comment.

"a job?" you ask and he nods, fidgeting with the end of his shorts.

"yeah... in construction. splinter thought it would be good anger management. i started doing it to also pay back for the necklace... that ya don't seem ta wear anymore" he narrowed his amber eyes around your neck and true to his word, you had taken it off. your hand touches your chest, feeling only the bare skin instead. the only reason you had taken it off was because he just kept being so secretive around you. and you didn't know who to trust.

"so that explains the extra muscles on your arms" you ponder and he laughs, flexing his bicep.

"they got us liftin heavy stuff" he rolls his shoulders, aching from last night. "i'm sorry for not saying anything about it. i didn't want to be laughed at" he chuckles but there's no humour in his voice, just nervousness which is rare for raph to ever have.

"you'd think i'd laugh at you?? i'm the last person to judge and i think it's a good thing for you. it's healthy to let your anger out in this way, i'm proud of you. but you have to stop with these secrets, they're only driving a wedge between us" your hand is gently placed on his knee which he appreciates, with you he never feels pressured to say things. you let him take his time which he's never found in other partners before.

"i know i just didn't want ta disappoint ya, i'm not a millionaire and i'm not the greatest looking guy either. i just wanted ya ta be happy at somethin-" "raph, you could never disappoint me. i don't care about money or fame, i just want you to be as serious about us, i just want to be there for you. but i can't do that if you keep pushing me away, hiding these things from me" you sigh your previous anger melting into sadness and relief.

"m'sorry princess, i do care about us. there's just things that i have trouble saying. but i promise i never mean to intentionally hurt ya" he cradles your hand, his gaze on the floor in deep thought. your head gingerly leans against his arms and his finger places comforting circles around your knuckles.

"where is yer friend? aren't ya supposed ta go out tonight?" raph remembered, looking around the room.

"yeah she's supposed to come soon but i haven't confirmed anything" you lean back on the bed watching his amber eyes narrow mischievously. in the way you grew to adore.

"so what i'm hearing is, we have time?" he smirked but you gently nudge his chest, shaking your head with an amused smile.

"i'm still annoyed at you" you chuckle when he smiles softly, his eyes shining under your lights. he leans closer to you, simply just wanting to be in your embrace.

"and i'll spend every moment making it up ta ya. let's just cuddle, i've missed ya"

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fanfic #tmnt raphael #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael x reader angst #tmnt raphael x reader fluff

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

Go Go Nekoma! Push it, Push it Nekoma! Coaches Chemisty (pt. 1)

Warnings: Angst, breakups, mention of virginity loss, Swearing

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Word count: 6000+ (split into 3 parts)

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I just don't see this going anywhere. We are both leaving for college soon and going to different schools at that" your boyfriend of the past 2 years, Naoi Manabu said as he looked down to the ground kicking the dirt below his feet.

Your eyes watered as you drown out the words he's saying.

"B-but we can make this work. I can come see you on weekends and we can still see each other over holidays and school breaks" you plead trying to save a relationship you know is doomed.

The past weeks had been rough to say the least. Manabu had been growing distant from you. Making excuses and staying later for volleyball practice to avoid walking home with you. To say it hurt would be an understatement. It broke your heart.

"Y/N I'm sorry, I just can't do this" Manabu said as he looked up seeing tears welling in your eyes.

"I love you. Doesn't that mean anything?" You say sternly as tears roll down your cheeks.

"Y/N-" he starts saying as you place your hand in front of his face.

"No. Don't. I gave you everything. I stuck by you through it all! I stayed late to walk with you home from volleyball practice. I came to as many games as I could! I stayed up late helping you study! Fuck I gave you my virginity!" You scream.

The emotions are just too overwhelming.

"Y/N-" Manabu tries to say as you turn.

"No. I'm done. Good luck with your life Naoi" you turn away letting the tears flow as you start to jog away.

Almost on cue the sky opens up and rain pours down on your head. This is just like one of those awful romance novels. The girl gets dumped by the love of her life only for rain to continue to dampen her day. Just fucking fantastic.

This was quite literally the worst day of your life.

*8 years later*

"Y/N darling can you please water the flowers outside. I forgot to have Vee do it this morning" Your boss asks you politely with a smile.

"Of course! Let me just finish this arrangement and I'll get to watering. You can head home if you like Bella. I know your poor husband must be starving waiting for you" you giggle as Bella rolls her eyes.

"Let him die. No good worthless piece of crap. Couldn't even take the garbage out last night like I asked him too" Bella huffed as she walked over to your table.

"Stay single Y/N, trust me getting married is for the birds. Sure you meet some handsome young man and he charms his way into your life but the MINUTE he says 'I do' its all down hill from there" Bella says to you as she sternly shakes her finger.

You can't help but laugh. Bella is in her 70s and has been married to the same man for 50 years. He's really very kind and helpful in the shop when he comes and visits. Sometimes you think Bella expects too much from her husband but she's quick to shut you up.

"If you don't establish dominance Y/N, these men will walk all over you! You are young and beautiful. You don't want any man. And if you do, find one who will worship the ground you walk on. A man who will lay his coat over a pile of manure for you to walk. A man who will put your pleasure before his own" she says as she lectures you for the 10th time this week.

Bella loved you like her own daughter. Her son had moved away years ago and wasn't around much. She often invited you and Vee to have dinner with her and her husband. The dinners were entertaining to say the least. Usually ending with Bella ranting about how naive women now a days are or how shallow men are.

You enjoyed your time with Bella and her husband even if you didn't share the same sentiment as Bella did.

You hadn't been on a date in over a year. Every relationship seemed to go the same way. There was never a connection. You tried hard through college and after to find someone but always managed to come up empty.

After you graduated college, you took a high paying job in Tokyo. While you were more than qualified for the job, it provided you with little pleasure. It wasn't until you stumbled into Bella's flower shop that you found yourself truly happy.

Surrounded by beautiful flowers and arrangements. It was like heaven. You returned to Bellas weekly to get a bouquet. Soon you found yourself becoming friends with Vee and Bella. It wasn't until Bella mentioned needing help that you made the decision to quite your job and start anew. While the jobs pay was much less than you had become accustom too, your lifestyle really didn't change. You sold your suits in exchange for overhauls, shorts and t-shirts. You got accustomed to dirt below your fingers rather than finely manicure nails. Sure it was a big change but you were so much happier.

You're days were long and busy. Often starting early and closing late. You didn't have family close by, and no significant other so you often took extra shifts and offered to help so the other two ladies could enjoy their husband's.

Both ladies knew about your past dating relationships and the "one that got away" as they so ironically referred to it.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You often thought of Naoi Manabu.

What was he doing?

You were sure he had to be married by now. It had been 8 years since you had last seen him.

After you broke up, you avoided the man like the plague. It helped you only had a week before school ended and you graduated. It didn't seem like he was too worked up over your break up. You had spent far too many nights crying over him.

You felt like you had lost the love of your life.

You, in fact, had.

💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐

"KENMAAAA" Coach Nekomata screams "stop running from the ball! We've been over this a million times!"

"I'd like to keep my limbs thanks" Kuzome Kenma whispers as he turns back to see Kuroo Tetsuro snickering.

"Kenma you act like you've never blocked a ball in your entire life" Kuroo teases the setter mercerously.

"Well I wouldn't have to if someone had read into the switch" Kenma glares at Kuroo who's smile drops.

"Alright that's enough" Naoi shouts as the boys return to their practice match.

He sits next to Coach Nekomata as he sighs "do you think they will be ready for nationals? We've only got a month before we leave. They've still got a long way to-"

"Naoi have faith. They will be ready. They are strong" Coach Nekomata smiles as he watches the boys continue to practice.

The game ends as the boys begin to pack up the gym.

Yaku Morisuke sighs as he finishes his stretches.

"Yaku what's got you bothered" Kuroo says as he kneels down to the team libero.

"I'm just thinking about Mai. I really like her but how do I even tell her. Confessing isn't really my strong suit" Yaku says as he rubs the back of his head.

"How about chocolates? Or maybe flowers?" Kuroo says with a smug grin "girls love flowers!"

"Tsk like you'd know Mr. Periodic Table" Kenma says non-chalantly as he walks by.

Yamamoto Taketora and Haiba Lev laugh at the rooster headed team captain as he glares at the 2nd year setter

"Are you even sure she likes short guys Yaku?" Lev laughs as the team shakes their head.

Yaku runs up to Lev kicking him straight in his back.

"Dumbass" Yamamoto shakes his head as he puts the remaining volleyballs away.

"Why don't we go check out that flower shop on the way home? What's it called like Bella's or something. It looks pretty nice" Kuroo says as he gestures to Yaku.

"Kai, you coming?" Kuroo says to his fellow third year and co-captain, Kai Nobuyuki.

"Sure I'll tag along" Kai speaks softly with a smile.

"Alright guys good practice! Remember we have practice this Saturday as well in preparation for nationals" Naoi shouts as the boys groan.

"And Kenma no skipping out. I'll have Kuroo drag you here if he has to" Naoi glares at Kenma who shakes rolls his eyes and huffs.

The boys showered and change, preparing to head to the flower shop as they wave their fellow teammates off.

Naoi boards the train heading home to his small apartment. To say things have gone to plan in his life would be an understatement. While he was doing what he loved, his love life was lacking to say the very least. He had tried numerous relationships, only to have them fail because he could never fully commit. He often found himself in a one-sided relationship where his partner would confess their love but he couldn't.

It became draining for the people he was with so he ultimately stayed single. He knew, in fact, what the problem was. The problem was that he had messed up the only relationship that mattered to him. He'd blown his chances with the only person whom he ever truly loved.

He had blown his chance with you.

When he decided to break up with you, he really thought it was for the best. He knew you had a bright future ahead of you and he couldn't help but feel like he was weighing you down. He thought it would be best to let go before it became impossible. Not that it wasn't hard to do. It broke him.

He found himself unable to date for years. You had been his first everything and you had been it. He eventually forced himself to move on. Having one night stands and short term relationships but never more. Commitment was hard when it wasn't you. He still kept the ring he had wanted to give you for your third anniversary.

Unfortunately he never got the chance to after he inevitably broke you heart. He often found himself staring at it, wondering how life would have been if he had in fact stayed with you.

By now you must be married with babies he thought to himself. It hurt to think about but he knew it would never be. You'd never be his. And he'd never be truly happy.

#nekoma cats #nekoma #haikyuucoaches #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #naoi manabu #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs

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nishisun · 3 years

Text

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn��t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

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napeoftheneck · 3 years

Text

The Rule of Beasts (Eren Yeager x Warrior!reader)

MAJOR ATTACK ON TITAN SEASON 4 SPOILERS !!!

Hey bestie! Sorry this took so long, writing for Eren is a STRUGGLE on its own but pairing that with a Marleyan reader makes it seem like I’m writing the 95 Theses. I’ve done it though! I just want to thank you guys for requesting despite having no teaser to see what I write like! I appreciate it. Hope u enjoy :)

Title: The Rule of Beasts

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Blood, canon-typical violence, war, depiction of depression/trauma/PTSD brought from war, swearing, major injuries, Eren is mean as hell in this (I use she/her pronouns for the reader in this as it was in the request! If you want any changes, please feel free to dm me or submit an ask!). ALSO, the quote used for the title is one I've seen EVERYWHERE, but I can't find who originally said it. If anyone knows, let me know!!

Major spoilers for Attack On Titan season 4 below the cut!!!

“We’re not friends. We were never friends.”

Since your return to Marley some years ago, those words persecuted you like a condemnation. The dismay they brought you was incessant, though it was nothing compared to the agony concealing it brought.

Reiner seemed to be handling it well. He could look his mother in her wavering eyes and recount the story of the potato girl with little faltering and he could sit before Gabi, Udo, Zofia and Falco to give impudent answers on the spot.

You were nothing akin to it.

Upon your return, you were no longer the dominant and capable warrior sent by Marley to scour Paradisians. You were a husk.

The way they gawked at you, whispering as you passed and lowered their voices to a soft, below-octave hum as if you could break if they spoke any louder told you everything about how they had seen you now. Now, alongside Reiner, you were shaken.

You were a child that allowed herself to be shaken by the horrors of a war you weren't prepared to fight in. Not alongside Reiner, anyway.

The fact that you had survived had been a testament to nothing. It meant nothing.

Without your frequent appearance past public displays of your status, you meant nothing. When you returned home, your facade crumbled. You were plagued with thoughts of what you had done to them - to him.

You slept and dreamt of the moment where Eren Jeager had confided in you and you looked him in the eyes and swore to cleanse the world of those beasts that killed his mother. You shared tender moments with him knowing that those beasts were your friends - that they were you. You nodded along as he spoke of a world where you could live together, peacefully, without Titans. Meanwhile, your true allies would be waiting for you that dawn to plan how you could ruin them more.

Whenever you dreamed (it wasn’t often) it was of him. Sometimes it would be of moments you weren’t present for - of the moment he heard your name when listing missing soldiers. Often, it wasn’t.

“Don’t touch me, don’t even-don’t even look at me! You took years of my life from me and I’ll never get them back. Do you understand that?!”

There it was again. It happened every time. You were on the branch, you felt the thick air heave through your lungs, yet you felt like you were drowning in it.

You knew the situation well now. He had no hands to fight you with. Ymir watched from beside him. If you looked up, Reiner would be stood tiredly, Bertholdt would be slumped against the trunk. “(Y/n), just let it go.” He would sigh, raking a large, scarred hand over his face.

You wished you listened. You never did. No matter how many times you’ve dreamed this dream, you never said what you needed to. You always said the same thing; “Eren,” it was always so tired. Your vision would always fade. “I wrote you a letter every day where I told you everything in vivid, drawn-out detail - I confessed to everything - but I couldn't ever show you. I couldn’t hurt my friend like th-“

“We’re not friends. We were never friends.”

A loud, echoing roar sounds from beyond the stage before you and you are momentarily struck from your daydream.

The declaration of war was upon you and, deep down, you knew something gruesome, something catastrophic would come of it. You weren't dull. Yet, there you sat, complicit. The crimson band around your arm burned your skin even under your coat like a crucifix upon the skin of the unholy.

You are grounded now, suddenly conscious of where you were.

The coldness of the night bit harshly your nose and ears, tearing you from whatever remaining stupor that had a hold on you.

Your eyes snap upward, toward the piercing flashes that now emitted from under the stage. People clambered around you, squealing and shoving their way past you. You angle your head to see what had caused such a commotion, but it didn’t take you long to discern the state of the audience.

Rubble, blood and fleeing townspeople flooded it.

From your spot behind the stage, you could see the resulting catastrophe clearly. However, it’s when you look up that left you staggering backwards.

Him.

It was unmistakably him, though the attack Titan looked much larger than you retained. It was much greater, now, because you were below it. You were at its mercy.

No longer, like before, were you in his territory. You weren’t the charlatan among others, he was. Because he didn't belong here. He was a threat to your people, your land; no longer to his own.

The fear made the damage look grim; it made him look massive.

Eren was in there.

You think of it and suddenly you are 15 again. Suddenly, you are brushing his hair, coaxing him to sleep through rough rain and thunderstorms. You suddenly feel his arms around you again, you feel the warmth from the night of your graduation.

You fought with yourself, biting back the feeling of familiarity, of recognition.

He wasn’t your friend anymore; he was the enemy now.

You didn’t want to fight him.

You just watched him kill what seemed to be hundreds of your people, and you were certain he had brought his own people with him, but you couldn't find it within yourself to do what you knew you must.

Someone grabbed your arm, and you momentarily tear your eyes from the familiar beast.

“Ms. (L/n)! You’re safe!” You don’t recognise the woman speaking to you, but she grasps your sleeve as though she knew you well. Her hand was coated thickly with crimson. A child weeps behind her dress. She weeps something about having lost her daughter to the rubble and she begs for you to do something.

Your expression hardens as she’s whisked away by a guard, who orders something about getting to safety. You watch her disappear into a large crowd as you search your pocket for the familiar coldness of your switchblade.

Eren Yeager had killed your people.

He had, in this stunt, mowed through thousands at this point and surely would do what he could do to make his destructive way to your friends.

You flick it along your palm.

Violence for violence was the rule of beasts. You would get to him before he could.

#LMAO i hate writing eren #so this is like #90% reader-centric #whatevs #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin imagine #eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager imagine #eren jeager imagine #aot season 4 spoilers

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blindingdutchy · 3 years

Text

lamentation | ONE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 2,725

warnings: thoughts of suicide! unsuccessful attempt! depression, grief, angst

18+!!! minors stay away! TRIGGER WARNING.

Nothing made sense anymore. The world was upside down, all messed up, and you were hanging by a thread. How could it have been a year since the incident? How could you be okay with being older than her now?

Grief is something that nobody expects to be easy, but you never expected it to be quite so hard. Every day people promised that tomorrow would be better, but it never was. It never got better. It never got easier. You were fairly sure it never would, because if it still hurt this bad after thirteen months, twenty-two days, and six hours, how could one more hour, day, month, or year bring any sort of respite?

It couldn't. It wouldn't. Sometimes you wondered if this was your punishment. Maybe you felt this way because you deserved to, because you had earned a life time of suffering when you let her die. Sure, big sisters are supposed to look out for little sisters, but at the cost of their life? That couldn't go unpunished.

Every day was the same since she died. Wake up, wish you hadn't, feel everything and nothing all at once, and go to sleep. It was a strange and horrible existence; people weren't meant to feel so many big things at the same time. The guilt, the shame, the anguish, the longing... it consumed every part of you like a black hole until you were left with nothing. Until you felt nothing, thought nothing, you were nothing.

They were all the same until today. It was your birthday, your eighteenth birthday to be exact, and for once that ever present black hole in your chest was gone. Instead of waking up to the constant weight of all those heavy emotions on your shoulders, you woke up with the familiar numb emptiness you felt at the end of every day.

There weren't words to describe how much that terrified you. Every single day since your sister died, you'd wished endlessly for those painful feelings to go away. You'd begged for relief, for peace, and you'd taken solace in the hollow of the evenings. Waking up already vacant and listless did not bring the comfort you dreamed of.

You were officially older than her. You'd finally reached that first milestone she'd never reach, and the thought of it punched a hole in your chest so large you wondered if there was anything left of you at all. It wasn't fair--how could you celebrate the big ticket birthday she'd yearned for so anxiously? You couldn't.

You didn't deserve to celebrate. You didn't deserve to achieve all those goals she never had the chance to. You didn't deserve to live through all the years, experiences, moments that she never would. You didn't deserve to live.

It was all your fault, after all. It was your fault that she was there that day, it was your fault she lingered behind, and it was your fault she died. If you'd just gone shopping like she'd asked instead of insisting on going to the park, she'd still be here. If you hadn't frozen like an idiot, she'd still be here.

With a mind swimming with all the reasons everything would be better if you just weren't around anymore, you snuck out of your bedroom window. It was finally dark outside; you'd managed to make it through the day for your parents. But, with the day over, you couldn't hold on any longer.

The letter you'd written for your parents to find was tucked under your pillow, and with one final glance around the bedroom you used to share with your sister, you made peace with your life. This was for the best. Everyone would be so much better off if it had been you instead of her, and now you were going to make things right. It wouldn't bring her back, but at least you wouldn't be there as a reminder of what should have been.

As ready as you were, you didn't really have a plan. There were a million possibilities as far as how you could execute your desires, but none of them seemed right. It had to be fast, though, and something that didn't require much work. If it took effort, conscious thought and execution, you wouldn't follow through. You'd learned that the last time.

That was how you ended up on the roof of one of the more swanky apartment complexes. It was a tall building, taller than those surrounding it, and a fall from that height would surely do the trick. Strangely, the moment your feet dangled over the ledge with your bottom firmly planted in place, your mind went blank.

All those thoughts of the stress and pain you caused went silent, and you finally could breathe. With a deep exhale, your body relaxed for the first time since the incident; you didn't feel any of the bad things anymore. There was no pain, no grief, no sadness, nor were there any of those empty or numb feelings. You just felt peace.

The peace was short lived as you looked down to the street far below, though. This was it, this was the end, and suddenly your mind was racing with all the what if's. What if it could get better? What if it didn't work? What if this made everything worse? What if this was a mistake?

What if, what if, what if, "Whatever, just shut up." you gasped, clutching your head in your hands to keep it from spinning. "Get it together, (Y/N), this is the right thing to do."

Pulling out the letter you'd written to your sister, you opened it and cried for the first time in months. You'd long ago stopped crying; despite how many horrible things you'd been feeling, the tears just never came. But reading the words you'd written to her, thinking of her as you came to terms with your decision to join her, it was as if a metaphorical flood gate opened.

Thirteen months, twenty-two days, and seven hours. You couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't do it, do anything, anymore; you just needed to rest. The clock was running out, and your time was up.

"You can do this." you whispered, "For once in your life, do something right."

With shaky hands and weak knees, you scrambled up onto your feet and stood atop the ledge. You weren't that tall, but somehow the new perspective made the drop look so much longer and your stomach heaved with fright. Sobbing, you stumbled back to your knees and threw up the little bit of cake you'd forced yourself to eat earlier that evening.

You wiped the sick from your mouth and stood up again, this time with panting gasps for air and knees that shook so violently you feared you might fall before you were ready to. Maybe that would have been for the best, though, because the longer you looked down the more doubts you had. No one would ever know it was an accident if that were the case.

A sudden noise behind you startled you, and your heart seized in your chest as your knees gave out and you tipped dangerously over the edge. You didn't fall, though, because a sticky substance latched around your arm and dragged you back over until you were laying on the roof. For a moment you just laid there, staring up at the empty sky where the stars were all drowned out by the city lights, and you tried hard to figure out what had just happened.

"Are you okay? Oh--oh my god, are you hurt? What were you thinking? Shit, oh shit, Karen, what do I do?" A masked head leaned over your face, blocking the starless sky from your view, and all the feelings came flooding back like a tsunami. "Um, can you hear me?"

One feeling stood out against the current, and your body tensed as you were overcome with seething, white hot rage. An anger like you'd never felt before; you were furious. How dare he stop you? How dare he ruin everything?

It was Spiderman, the friendly neighborhood hero who'd been gallivanting around Queens for some time now, and that made you even angrier. Spiderman was one of them, one of the ridiculous superheroes who'd killed your sister without a single care in the world. He was one of them, and he'd just stopped you from finally fixing everything they had ruined.

You stood so fast you nearly threw up again, but you swallowed the bile down and hissed, "You should have let me fall. I wanted to fall."

Spiderman pulled you back with a firm grip on the web that was still wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks as you stomped back toward the ledge. "Hey, stop! I'm not going to let you do this." he shouted, but his voice was more nervous than commanding.

"Get out of here, Spiderman. You're not saving the day by stopping me, okay?" you snapped fiercely. No matter how hard you pulled against the webbing holding you back, you couldn't break free. It didn't budge when you pulled at it, clawed at it, or even pried it. "What the hell is this shit?"

He pulled you in further, and you stumbled over your feet as you tried to keep your distance. "I'm not going to let you do this. You don't need to do this." he repeated, this time more firmly.

For a moment you were silent, studying the masked hero as he stared back at you with a hidden face. "You don't even know me. Why do you care?" you tried again, but your voice was softer, more fragile. The numbness was creeping back in again and you knew that you wouldn't be able to follow through anymore, even if he let you go.

"I do know you, (Y/N), and you don't need to do this. We can--I can help you. Let me help you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. How the hell did he know your name? Did you know him? Even though your mind was running wild with unanswered questions, you seethed, "You can't help me. Unless you can go back in time and kill me instead of my sister, you can't fucking help me."

The eyes of his mask widened at your shout, and he stammered, "I--no, I can't do that, but I can help you. I can be your friend, you... you can talk to me. I know what it's like to lose someone, (Y/N)."

You scoffed, "Do you know what it's like to watch a family member die right in front of you? Do you know what it's like to see someone get killed, and it's all your fault? You can't help me!"

"I do, actually." he stated.

Your entire body slumped at the revelation, the anger leaving you as the numbness finally took over completely. It was silent for a few long moments as you cried noiselessly, the only sounds being those of your still frantic breathing and the bustling traffic far below. "If you know, then you know why I have to do it." you whimpered.

Spiderman dropped the web keeping you in place as you collapsed onto your butt, your legs too weak to support you anymore from exhaustion. "I know why you think you have to, but I also know why you're wrong. This isn't the answer." he responded, tentatively taking a few steps closer to you.

You didn't respond, looking up at him as you wiped your cheeks and nose weakly, and he took the chance to continue, "I'm going to make you a deal. I'm going to take my mask off and show you who I am. If you still want to do it after, fine, but at least you'll know who will be blaming themselves afterwards."

True to his word, his fingers creeped under the edge of his mask as he stared you down intensely. Your breath faltered as you watched, completely still as you realized he was serious. Spiderman was going to reveal his identity to you, and you knew that once he did it was game over. As much as you felt the world would be better off without you, you couldn't bare the thought of leaving someone behind to feel the way that you did.

So, stubbornly, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and refused to look. "I'll wait here all night if I have to. Besides, I could just say my name, you know. I'm pretty sure you know me too."

"Don't." you pleaded.

"Open your eyes, (Y/N). You want this, right? Knowing who I am shouldn't change anything, then." he urged, his tone soft despite his harsh words. "It's Peter. Peter Parker. I've sat behind you in at least two classes since freshman year, and I've lent you pencils before. You always give them back, and you always let Flash copy your homework even though he's a total dick to you. You--"

Your eyes snapped open as you cut him off, "Stop! Just because you know things about me doesn't mean you know me."

It really was Peter Parker, and the numbness faded a little to make room for anxiety and guilt. You knew Peter had lost too much in his life; his parents and his uncle, too. Could you add your name to that list? Could you jump when you knew he'd blame himself for the rest of his life?

You couldn't. You wouldn't. Peter's brown eyes were filled with worry and sadness as he studied you, his mask clutched tightly in his fist. When you remained silent, he sat down and spoke quietly, "I know enough to know the world would suck without you. I could be your friend, you know, you don't have to do this alone."

"I don't need friends." you huffed.

Peter frowned briefly, before rubbing his nose and hiding it again. "I did just tell you my biggest secret, (Y/N), so I think we kind of have to be friends now." he finally rebutted, a faint twinge of humor in his voice, "You might not want friends, but you do need one. I'll be your friend."

You stared back at Peter blankly, uncaring as he shifted uncomfortably in your silence. Why did he want to be your friend? He already got what he wanted. You weren't going to go through with your plan, and he wouldn't have to live with guilt like you did every day. So, why was he still here?

Part of you wanted to believe he really cared, because he seemed to pay a lot of attention to you to notice the little things you did, but you knew better. He didn't really care about you. He only cared that you knew his secret and now you had leverage over him. You could out him if you wanted to, and that meant he had to keep tabs on you.

"I don't need friends." you repeated stiffly, "Don't worry, Parker. Your secret is safe with me."

His eyes widened as he stammered, "That's not--"

"Save it, Peter. Can you please just get this shit off of me so I can go home? I want to go to bed." you cut him off with a deep sigh, gesturing to the web that was still hanging from your arm.

He looked like he wanted to argue, to further plead his case, but after a few moments he visibly wilted and gave in. "It'll dissolve in two hours. I'll... I'll see you at school, (Y/N)."

It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question. You knew he was still hesitant to let you out of his sight, fearful that you'd go back on your word and follow through, and this was his way of confirming you wouldn't do just that. Achingly stretching up off the ground, you muttered, "Yeah. Bye, Peter."

Peter tugged his mask back over his head, but didn't make any move to leave until you were opening the door that lead back into the building. As you stepped through the threshold he gave a forlorn wave, before jumping over the ledge and swinging away. The door shut behind you as the weight of the world settled on your shoulders once again. You'd failed, like always.

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester: Change is due

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Reader

Warning: Fighting, Swearing, fluff, angst, Dean being a douchebag, guilt.

Summary: What about talking instead of fighting.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/n- This is for band-pyschos 1.5 followers bingo writing challenge. This makes me sad, but whatever.

Square- "Stay with me"

Dean Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Tag list: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @wonderfulworldofwinchester @doctorlilo @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski

The drive to the bunker was quiet. The rev of the engine. The downright scariness of the way that all I could hear was the passing of other vehicles on the road. That sound too eventually stopped as the driver back to the bunker was much longer than originally anticipated.

Dean had a temper like nobody's business. The temper of a wild dog, or maybe it was a wild bear. Regardless Dean's temper was downright scary most times. But then again most times that temper of his was never directed towards me.

Yes between miniature fights, and getting annoyed with each other fights did occur, but nothing too bad. You see, three years into hunting and now living with the famous Winchesters. I had fallen deeply for Dean Winchester.

Falling for someone is an already dangerous game, but falling in love with a Winchester. The most hunted after, hunters of them all that was a dangerous game to start playing.

I played the game regardless. Can you imagine falling for someone so much that your worlds just connect so well? Like amazing jigsaw puzzle pieces. Or maybe falling in love was like finally figuring out the correct word in a crossword puzzle.

Like Forrest says "Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you're going to get." I would have never been able to tell you that when I was a little girl playing in my room running around in the pure white dress that I would one day grow up kill the monster that haunts this earth, and fall for the most righteous man, the fallen soldier, the best hunter I had ever met.

Could you imagine a six-year-old, coming up to their parent and saying that one day they'd fight monsters, and fall in love with the greatest monster hunter of them all. In your dreams.

Life with the Winchesters was most of the time pandemonium. Life with them was like living in the thunder dome. Like driving on the icy roads and hoping that you don't fall off the cliff. But life was calm sometimes, being able to have a half-assed normal life was good for all of us.

Sam was the best brother a person could ask for. The best friend a person could ask for. I think the moment I met the Winchesters, Dean and I were like magnets dragging each other together. Slated to be together for the rest of our lives, soul mates if you will.

This last hunt was nothing like we had ever dealt with before. So many children had been killed. I had put myself in the way, getting hurt instead of letting more children get hurt. A natural mother... or maybe just a natural instinct of a woman.

Dean, of course, was anger like normal, but usually, his anger would blow over and we'd either make-up or like the band, AC/DC says "You shook me all night long".

this night was different though. Something was off, something felt wrong. Yes, the drive was long and very fucking quiet but something in the air felt wrong. I'd like to think that I'm a tough cookie, a queen disguised as a princess.

I always think that Dean forgets that the reason he and I get along so well is that we are almost alike, in almost every way. We act the same way, love the same things, react the same way. Two peas in a pod if you will.

Dean tends to forget that when he gets angry, but comes to his sense rather quickly after, he either gets blown off, or the subject gets changed, something that he does often to Sam or me. In the situation where he knows he has no control, or where he is uncomfortable, feeling like he's being pushed into the corner.

I used to let Dean act like a douchebag. I let Dean get mad, yell, throw things, get in my face. But recently. Dean's anger has been out of this world, too much to bare, too much to handle. he almost turns into the hulk. It's like he forgets his normal manners and just wants to hulk smash literally everything around him.

How do you make someone realize what they are doing? How do you show someone how they are acting is affecting you?

Finally after what felt like days, but was really just hours of driving we pulled into the garage, the sound of the engine bouncing off of the cinderblock walls. During said drive Dean and I made eye contact once, his green ember eyes staring deep at me through the rear-view mirror. My own eyes making sure to stare at him with just the same amount of deep soul searching Dean was.

Sam steered in his sleep, the coldness of the garage and the car smell waking him from his sleep. Not a single word was said. Sam was the first one out of the car, opening the impalas back, grabbing his bags, and making a rather quick exit of the garage.

Neither of us moving from our spots. We sat in silence. A silence that's a funny word if you think about it. It the most screamed word when you're being told to be quiet. But it weighs heavy between two people.

Fighting was and has never been my style with Dean. Dean wants to yell and be an idiot then I'll let him be, but I won't go without saying my peace. I'll get up and leave if I want to. There's nothing holding me to the man, an argument is just a battle of words.

Finally, Dean moves, moves to look in the back seat. His eye passes over my figure like always. Passing by over my crisscrossed shins up to my jean-covered thighs, over my hips, up my t-shirt and flannel covered belly, up to my tall shoulders, and to my face.

The little light that was streaming into the impala's backseat. "Why?" Was all Dean said, staring at me. I chewed my lip thinking of anything to say. "Stop chewing on your lip. It's finally started to heal." Dean said.

Still, my body stuck in my crisscrossed position. I heard the creak of the impala, as I saw Dean shift from the front seat to the back seat. "I'm pretty sure that I just told you to stop doing that." He said bringing his thumb up to my lips, gently pulling down releasing my bottom lip from my teeth.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked picking once again at the issue at hand. "I was thinking about the children," I said looking at the man next to me. It was quiet for a moment, then a heavy sigh filled the air.

"The children?" Dean said questioning me. A cocked-eyed eyebrow raised in confusion to my answer. Sometimes it's like my answer is either not good enough, or isn't the right one. "Yes, the children," I stated calmly.

"I'm getting confused here Y/n," Dean said shifting causing the smallest of creak from the old impala. "I stepped in front of the children," I said.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that but why?" He asked. This firstly is going calm, and Dean's asking questions just before assuming shit, but why does this seem odd, kinda like all of the sudden protecting the young kids isn't enough to get a few scrapes and bruises.

"Did the great Dean Winchester just ask me that?" I said now turning the tables and questioning him. "Yeah, I did." He said so cut and dry-like. "You really wanna know why?" I asked

We were still sitting in the back of his precious car. I had rested my head on the headrest, closing my eyes. Dean was just staring, it had become a bad habit of his after we got together.

"Because Dean those kids didn't deserve whatever that monster did to them. Hell, I just pulled ten kids out, you and sam pulled at ten each. Can you even imagine that, because I can. Being so scared that I can't even protect myself." I said.

Taking a deep breath in and sighing loudly.

"What are you talking about Y/n?" Dean asked, looking at me now with more intent. Wanting yearning to get to the bottom jar of worms we had so carefully opened.

"You know what ignore me, it doesn't make any difference," I said uncrossing my legs and turning to unlock the back door. I was stopped before my fingertips even grabbed onto the cold metal on the handle.

"Do you remember that promise you made me? All those years ago." Dean said, pulling me into his warm touch. His scent of bourbon and wood fell down around us. "No, I don't Dean," I said honestly confused about what I had promised.

"You promise me that whatever was on your mind you would come to me and talk about it. I know six years is a long time, but that day you promised that you've never broken that promise." Dean said while he drew small circles into my lower back.

"Tonight though right now, you're breaking that promise. You don't have to give me every single detail but just don't go walking in front of a monster because you don't know what else to do. You know that you can talk to your boyfriend right?" He said questioning me towards the end.

I only shook my head in response Dean took that as his sign to continue talking. "I just, I'm fearing that you're starting to drift away, and honestly Y/n. Honest;y Y/n I don't think I would know what to do without you." Dean said.

This is different, new, and odd. This Dean is someone who only comes out when the world is ending or the tears are about to be shed for the umpteen amount of time. This Dean, this is the Dean I fell in love with. "So make me this promise now, stay with me," Dean asked.

"Stay with you?" I asked, "Of course stay with you, I guess I just have to learn to be able to ask for help, right Dean." I said hugging him from the awkward position we had fallen into when he pulled me away from the back door.

"No more running, no more fighting alone. We do everything together now." Dean said, cupping my slightly tears stained cheek." Bumping our foreheads together in a sign of good faith you could say. I hummed and returned the favor.

Moments like this the calm, and the quiet. These were those times where I felt at home. I've realized with this job, hunting home isn't a place with four walls and a roof over your head it's about the people in your life. Make a home with the people who care about you. Make a home with the people you would fight anything to hurt, Make home able to be anywhere.

And when you can do that finally you can make home turn into love, and love into strength. Having all three makes you happier I'd like to think in the long run of things. So just "stay with me" that's all I'm asking of you, the rest we can do together.

Completed on: 05/06/2021

*Happy Throwback Thursday*

#band psychos bingo challenge 2021 #dean winchester #deanwinchtser #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #supernatualfluff #angstspn #spn angst #spn fluff #supernatural fluff #tw swearing #tw panicking #tw guilt

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that.

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

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