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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Hmmm I should probably wait another day to post part two of Finnick being there for Everlark / being their friend but I don’t wanna sooo. Here it is 🤗

I see my mother lead in a group of mobile patients, still wearing their hospital nightgowns and robes. Finnick stands among them, looking dazed but gorgeous. In his hands he holds a piece of thin rope, less than a foot in length, too short for even him to fashion into a usable noose. His fingers move rapidly, automatically tying and unraveling various knots as he gazes about. Probably part of his therapy. I cross to him and say, “Hey, Finnick.” He doesn’t seem to notice, so I nudge him to get his attention. “Finnick! How are you doing?”

“Katniss,” he says, gripping my hand. Relieved to see a familiar face, I think.

Finnick, who’s been wandering around the set for a few hours, comes up behind me and says with a hint of his old humor, “They’ll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.”

Just as the elevator arrives, Finnick appears in a state of agitation. “Katniss, they won’t let me go! I told them I’m fine, but they won’t even let me ride in the hovercraft!”

I take in Finnick — his bare legs showing between his hospital gown and slippers, his tangle of hair, the half-knotted rope twisted around his fingers, the wild look in his eyes — and know any plea on my part will be useless. Even I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring him. So I smack my hand on my forehead and say, “Oh, I forgot. It’s this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He’s designed a new trident for you.”

At the word trident, it’s as if the old Finnick surfaces. “Really? What’s it do?”

“I don’t know. But if it’s anything like my bow and arrows, you’re going to love it,” I say. “You’ll need to train with it, though.”

“Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there,” he says.

“Finnick?” I say. “Maybe some pants?”

He looks down at his legs as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then he whips off his hospital gown, leaving him in just his underwear. “Why? Do you find this”— he strikes a ridiculously provocative pose —“distracting?”

I can’t help laughing because it’s funny, and it’s extra funny because it makes Boggs look so uncomfortable, and I’m happy because Finnick actually sounds like the guy I met at the Quarter Quell.

“I’m only human, Odair.” I get in before the elevator doors close.

At dinner, Finnick brings his tray to my bed so we can watch the newest propo together on television. He was assigned quarters on my old floor, but he has so many mental relapses, he still basically lives in the hospital.

Finnick presses the button on the remote that kills the power. In a minute, people will be here to do damage control on Peeta’s condition and the words that came out of his mouth. I will need to repudiate them. But the truth is, I don’t trust the rebels or Plutarch or Coin. I’m not confident that they tell me the truth. I won’t be able to conceal this. Footsteps are approaching.

Finnick grips me hard by the arms. “We didn’t see it.”

“What?” I ask.

“We didn’t see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?” he asks. I nod. “Finish your dinner.”

“This is what they’re doing to you with Annie, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Well, they didn’t arrest her because they thought she’d be a wealth of rebel information,” he says. “They know I’d never have risked telling her anything like that. For her own protection.”

“Oh, Finnick. I’m so sorry,” I say.

“No, I’m sorry. That I didn’t warn you somehow,” he tells me.

Suddenly, a memory surfaces. I’m strapped to my bed, mad with rage and grief after the rescue. Finnick is trying to console me about Peeta. “They’ll figure out he doesn’t know anything pretty fast. And they won’t kill him if they think they can use him against you.”

“You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they’d use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow,” I say.

“I shouldn’t have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn’t warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should’ve shut up about how Snow operates.”

Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, “How do you bear it?”

Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” Something in my expression stops him. “Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.”

Well, he must know. I take a deep breath, forcing myself back into one piece.

“The more you can distract yourself, the better,” he says. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine.”

The camera pulls back to include Peeta, off to one side in front of a projected map of Panem. He's sitting in an elevated chair, his shoes supported by a metal rung. The foot of his prosthetic leg taps out a strange irregular beat. Beads of sweat have broken through the layer of powder on his upper lip and forehead. But it's the look in his eyes--angry yet unfocused--that frightens me the most.

"He's worse," I whisper. Finnick grasps my hand, to give me an anchor, and I try to hang on.

“You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen’s military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that the Mockingjay is still alive. Any questions?”

“Can we have a coffee?” asks Finnick.

Steaming cups are handed out. I stare distastefully at the shiny black liquid, never having been much of a fan of the stuff, but thinking it might help me stay on my feet.

Finnick sloshes some cream in my cup and reaches into the sugar bowl. “Want a sugar cube?” he asks in his old seductive voice. That’s how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. “Here, it improves the taste,” he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes in my cup.

Haymitch’s footsteps are still echoing in the outer hall when I fumble my way through the slit in the dividing curtain to find Finnick sprawled out on his stomach, his hands twisted in his pillowcase. Although it’s cowardly — cruel even — to rouse him from the shadowy, muted drug land to stark reality, I go ahead and do it because I can’t stand to face this by myself.

As I explain our situation, his initial agitation mysteriously ebbs. “Don’t you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they’ll either be dead or with us. It’s . . . it’s more than we could hope for!”

Well, that’s a sunny view of our situation. And yet there’s something calming about the idea that this torment could come to an end.

I want to run, but Finnick’s acting so strange, as if he’s lost the ability to move, so I take his hand and lead him like a small child.

"Oh, Peeta," says Finnick lightly. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart." He leads Annie away after giving me a concerned glance.

I'm unaware that my feet are moving to the table until I'm inches from the holograph. My hand reaches in and cups a rapidly blinking green light.

Someone joins me, his body tense. Finnick, of course. Because only a victor would see what I see so immediately. The arena. Laced with pods controlled by Gamemakers. Finnick's fingers caress a steady red glow over a doorway. "Ladies and gentlemen..."

His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!"

I laugh. Quickly. Before anyone has time to register what lies beneath the words I have just uttered. Before eyebrows are raised, objections are uttered, two and two are put together, and the solution is that I should be kept as far away from the Capitol as possible. Because an angry, independently thinking victor with a layer of psychological scar tissue too thick to penetrate is maybe the last person you want on your squad.

"I don't even know why you bothered to put Finnick and me through training, Plutarch," I say.

"Yeah, we're already the two best-equipped soldiers you have," Finnick adds cockily.

"Do not think that fact escapes me," he says with an impatient wave. "Now back in line, Soldiers Odair and Everdeen. I have a presentation to finish."

Boggs told Peeta to sleep out in full view where the rest of us could keep an eye on him. He isn't sleeping, though. Instead, he sits with his bag pulled up to his chest, clumsily trying to make knots in a short length of rope. I know it well. It's the one Finnick lent me that night in the bunker. Seeing it in his hands, it's like Finnick's echoing what Haymitch just said, that I've cast off Peeta.

He weaves the rope in and out of his fingers. "The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up."

The cessation of rhythmic breathing suggests that either people have woken or have never really been asleep at all. I suspect the latter.

Finnick's voice rises from a bundle in the shadows. "Then you should ask, Peeta. That's what Annie does.”

Masks go on. Finnick adjusts Peeta's mask over his lifeless face.

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" shouts Peeta.

"You pushed him off you. You couldn't have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot," says Finnick, trying to calm him.

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" Tears begin to run down Peeta's face. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

“It's not your fault, Peeta," says Finnick.

I shout a warning to the others to stay with me. I plan for us to skirt around the corner and then detonate the Meat Grinder, but another unmarked pod lies in wait.

It happens silently. I would miss it entirely if Finnick didn't pull me to a stop. "Katniss!"

#thg #hunger games #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #Finnick Odair #mockingjay #bookcomb ♥️🔎

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sunlightandsuffering · 3 years

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Prompt : they are both famous and secretly dating.

tbh I don't know what this is or if it makes any sense at all, so sorry anon for butchering ur prompt, but I'm a basic bitch and I like my drake, so like this is gonna be pain bcuz my favourite song on the new album is just pain and I can't stop thinking about a fucked up celebs relationship to it, just ANGST AND PAIN!! 😭😭 but those lyrics hit, can't believe I wrote a song fic ugh circa Tumblr 2015 jfc I'mma write a happier ending to this in another prompt 😂 bc someone else asked for the same thing.

Fucking Fans

I'm still working on me

Eren stands at the Met Gala, holding Mikasa by the waist, giving a cramped smile for photos and keeping her close. People call their names and cameras flash and his beloved blinks, hiding her face into his shoulder as the lights overwhelm her.

He looks down at her lovingly as some jackass reporter yells about a cheating rumour and her pretty face pinches up. Eren is quick to comfort her with his touch, both hands gripping her waist reassuringly as he decides it's time for them to go inside.

"Come on Miki," he kisses her forehead and she nods, accepting. Neither of them wants to think about those rumours, the damage and the pain they bring up is too much and it's all his fault, he knows, but he can't undo it.

The guilt eats at him and she holds his hand tighter, the despair takes him and she cuddles him at night.

They're together now but sometimes Eren wonders just how it happened, how he came back from falling so far. How she took him back when he fucked up so massively.

And I'm coming back better for you

The day he shows up on her door step again is the day of the biggest awards show of the season, the one he knows she's going to kill and probably sweep several categories. Just because she's that amazing. He finds her where he expects, in her apartment, the address Armin gave him, doing her own hair and makeup, humble Mikasa just like always, ironing out her own dress. He shows up in a suit with as many white roses as he can fit into a bouquet and ready to leave if she still hates him, which she has every right to.

But he's been through months of therapy, gave Armin control of his bank account, and check himself into rehab thrice, every time he was even inching closer to relapse.

He's not fixed, but he's better, marginally, and he wants her to know it, know he still loves her at the very least.

She opens the door, beautiful even without makeup, and wearing a white slip and her pretty red mouth parts in shock.

All he can do is hold out his roses as tears leave his eyes at seeing her for the first time in months.

Most times it was my selfishness and your helplessness that I took advantage of

It was so easy with Mikasa, she was so devoted to him. So loving and sweet, always there for him.

She'd wait up, let him do what he wanted, never wanting to stifle or control him. Too afraid their tenuous relationship would crack and they'd break up.

A part of him blames her for it, for being so willing to let him do what he wanted. She'd been passive, unsure how to insert herself, had minimal complaints, letting him ruin his life party by party, late night after late night, drugs and alcohol all of it.

But he knows he can never hold her accountable for his own actions, and the day she's finally done with his bullshit is both the best and worst day of his life. She finally says no, and it begins his path to fixing himself. Because hitting rock bottom is losing the most important thing in his life, and that's Mikasa.

You sit in the house and I be out and I know you're worried, up

The problem with her passivity is he knows it's not passivity at all, she just doesn't know what to do, how to fix him. Eren has always had a temper, and she's known him for a long time, knows he'll lash out and behave worse if provoked. So she'd reacted as best she could, leaving rehab pamphlets out, asking him to stay in and watch movies, bake with her, anything other than going out to party.

But he'd stumble home every night and see her asleep on the couch, waiting. Always there to pick him up instead of a cab, not wanting the paparazzi to get a hold of him, she was always there.

And you try and block it out

They lived in a bubble, they pretended it didn't happen. They didn't acknowledge when he was too hungover to shoot the next morning. She'd brew him coffee, get him through the day, flush his drug stash when they checked, both his saving grace and biggest enabler.

Even when he's kissing her for more than just an on-screen kiss, lips drinking her in like a man starved, and the next morning she finds new girls in his bed, she keeps quiet.

They're a mess, but every time she dutifully kicks the girls out and drags him to the shower.

I'm so sorry for letting you down

When he'd first become famous, he hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd been scouted for how many movies, tv-shows, underwear commercials, brand deals. It was a whirlwind as Hollywood found their new boy wonder, handsome, smart and a nice boy.

His best friend, and female love interest in their debut movie, Mikasa, who had followed him to Hollywood on nothing more than a whim, was equally bombarded with fame and fortune. They'd always been close, always best friends, but never quite more, no matter how much they both obviously wanted it. It never progressed beyond a few acted kisses.

Still, they got an apartment together, and Eren had thought it was the start of something great, he was living the dream. Rich and famous with his best friend, the girl he'd secretly loved since he was young.

He'd been content just to stay up late and watch movies with her before work, to visit her on set and bring her donuts. They were Hollywood's shining stars, two kids sickeningly sweet in love even though they weren't officially dating, they were as good as.

At the advice of his agent, he'd started doing more, started picking up a few other gigs on the side, modelling, but he kept it small, he didn't want to overwhelm himself, and he still wanted time for Mikasa.

It had gone well, they'd taken fame okay, and Eren had been proud, neither of them had a sex-scandal or a pregnancy scare yet. They'd even been inching towards finally being something more than just friends, a few heated looks, some on-stage kisses to finally get the ball rolling.

Then Mikasa had been cast in an upcoming romance movie and her love interest hadn't been Eren, it had been Jean.

That had been the start of his spiral.

He'd never meant for it to get so far out of control, how many movies he started doing, how many promotions. Meanwhile Mikasa, smart, brilliant Mikasa stuck with smaller projects and only ever one at a time, preferring to keep close to their apartment. He was all she had, and she was all he wanted.

Nights when I just needed to hold somebody

He misses her, lays in bed awake at night thinking about her, how long it’s been, when was the last time he saw the curve of her face in person and not in a washed-out picture on a magazine. Girls in and out of his apartment, trying to fill the empty void inside him, and nothing works, nothing ever works. Because he’d fucked it up, said he didn’t need her, told her he could do it on his own, fame wouldn’t take him. Called each other names, every one in the book, screaming matches over stupid shit, if he should take that job, what she was doing with Jean, how she was eating, if she was eating enough.

The toxicity was palpable in their apartment until finally Mikasa just left and he broke.

Feeling overwhelmed, should've told somebody

Fame takes him like a drug addiction, actually it comes with a drug addiction, heroine, cocaine, molly, all of it. In trying to ditch his Hollywood’s sweetheart, good boy image he diverts his life so radically he doesn’t know if he can ever get back to where he was. He loses weight, barely gets by, he doesn’t even understand how he’s still getting booked, but people want him even more now that he’s Hollywood’s bad boy. Meanwhile Mikasa is disgraced now that he’s ‘thrown her away’ even though it was the other way around. Last he heard she lived in a little apartment on the upper east side, leaves only to work, and to fly up to see their families. He hasn’t seen his parents in months, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realize how skinny he’s gotten, how his body lacks muscle, skin barely clinging to bone, gaunt and lifeless.

He needs help, but he’s spiraling, he’s committed and no matter how many times Armin tries to get him into rehab, he never goes. What’s the point Mikasa is gone, he’s not getting her back, all he has now is the money, the drugs, and the women.

Picturin' it's me sending chills through your body

He hears she’s dating Jean now and somehow, he gets worse.

Every fear he’d ever had comes to life and he gets angry, his temper coming back full force. The past few months he’d barely been getting by, not really living, but his rage awakens him. She’d told him no, that they weren’t dating, never so much as kissed outside of work. What a fucking lie.

How many girls he takes home that month he doesn’t know, how many paparazzi photos of women leaving his apartment, how he dreams it’s Mikasa under him, not some rando.

He sees her on the cover of some magazine, walking innocently with Jean and it sends him into even more of a rage, but under it all he wishes it was him, doesn’t matter that they were never official, that it only happened a few times, he wants her back. But Eren’s never been good at navigating his emotions, so he clings to his rage like a lifeline.

I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you

When they ask about her in interviews, he doesn’t answer. Not until that once, when he lets it slip and he watches Armin wilt in real time from behind the camera as he spits the words, “I think it’s obvious, she’s with Jean now isn’t she, right after she was with me, figure it out yourself.”

The insinuation is lethal, cruel, mean and he knows it’s not true, but he says it anyway. He knows she didn't do it, but still the coincidence hurts too much, the very thought that there might have been something romantic going on with them before makes him want to throw up.

The interviewer looks shocked before he brightens up at the tidbit of information, like a vulture picking apart the last pieces of his heart, massacring it further, but Eren doesn’t mind the pain anymore. It fuels his rage and that’s all he has these days.

How am I supposed to get to know somebody?

When the rage wears off months later and Mikasa has done nothing, no comment on his interviews, no appearances, no angry texts, just silence, he becomes numb. Then the sadness sets in, because losing her romantically isn’t even the worst part, he doesn’t even have his best friend anymore, he’s lost her too.

She’s become a recluse, a hermit, he hasn’t even seen her with Jean on the magazine covers lately. Distantly he knows it’s because their movie is finished filming, and she was probably never dating him in the first place.

He goes to awards shows in hopes of at least catching a glimpse but she’s gone into hiding, there’s rumours she’s back in their hometown, but he’d never visit, not with the disgrace he’s become. He tries to date seriously, tries to talk to other actresses, but it’s all so vacant, disingenuous. All they want him for is his image, there’s nothing real about these women anymore, everything is fake, plastic right down to their boobs. Nothing like Mikasa, who was pure to her core, even in the face of her fame.

If we broke it off then you know it wasn't painless

He'd cried for weeks after she'd ended it, despite it being entirely his fault.

Armin had cancelled all his engagements and Eren hadn't left the apartment, curling himself up on her empty mattress, her room a barren wasteland.

He'd only eaten when Armin forced him too, and only come out of his hibernation after his mother had called to yell, Armin holding the phone right in his ear, the first time he'd spoken to her in forever.

If she got a watch then you know it's not a stainless

He’s got money, but it means nothing. Mikasa has money too, it doesn’t even matter. What has it all been for? He doesn’t even know anymore. All he’s gotten from his acting career is trust issues, more money than he knows what do with and the loss of his best friend and the only girl he’s ever loved.

It’s all a blur now, he acts, he models, he does PR. Armin makes him a schedule and he follows it. They meet with his nutritionist and his personal trainer, and he starts working out again, eating real food, not just smoking, and drinking coffee to supress his appetite.

Armin is the only reason he’s still a functioning human being as Eren hits rock bottom. The only one left to try and push him out.

I was out here fucking fans, I was shameless

He knows he fucked up, it’s why he starts therapy.

The shit he’d done, high off his own fame and arrogance, it’s messed up and he he knows it now. All the girls, all the money and the drugs, ignoring Mikasa’s concerns, dragging her down with him.

He doesn’t blame her now, he knows none of it was fair, she was justified in leaving. They were toxic, their half on, half off relationship, how he'd commit to the drugs but never her.

He can still remember the first time he kissed her, really kissed her, Eren and Mikasa not two characters on screen. It was after their first awards show for their movie, he’d been so excited, so delightfully sober, he couldn’t help himself, she’d been so pretty in her white dress, he’d leaned down before he could stop himself. The first night they’d had sex, her moans, her soft cries of pleasure, nothing had ever measured up since.

It had been bliss, for about a month or so and then they’d really been discovered, and it had all been shot to hell.

All the fans, all the women throwing themselves at him, his eyes couldn’t help but wander despite Mikasa always being the most radiant in the room. He had her love, he’d had everything, but that insidious voice in the back of his head had wondered. Thought the grass was greener on the other side, wanting to explore fame at the same time they’d finally started their relationship.

You was at the crib reading stories that they sent you

They’d kept it casual at Eren’s insistence and Mikasa’s heartbreak, his rock had been willing to allow it for him, for the chance to finally explore their relationship. But he could see how much it hurt her, the tabloids were the worst part, every day a new cover, another apartment he’d leave, another hookup in the parking lot. And he could barely justify it to himself, why he did it, why he continued to do it? He had everything he could ever want in Mikasa, the girl he’d loved since forever, finally in the palm of his hand, willing to give herself wholly to him.

And yet fame had called him more, and the people he was hanging out with only encouraged it, the famous lifestyle, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

Everyone was doing it, so why shouldn’t he?

Most of that was bullshit but some of it I did do

The rumours spiralled out of control after a while, there was nothing he could do, it was over, they had too much on him.

He'd been telling himself lies that maybe she was with Jean on the side, that she had the same opportunities as him, she could go out and sleep around too.

As if Mikasa would ever even consider it.

He’d finally given into being exclusive, seeing the toll it was taking on Mikasa, after Armin smacked him upside the head and told him he was going to lose her if he didn’t get his shit together. Eren had finally realized how irreversibly he was fucking up his relationship, but by then, it had been too late.

When they finally started truly dating, monogamy and all, it had been far, far too late. The backlog of photos the paparazzi had was ridiculous, any opportunity they got to demonize him they took.

He and Mikasa been casual at the time of all the photos, sure, but anyone would buckle under the weight of constant articles about their significant other cheating. Eren became the villain in his own story, and Hollywood loved it, ‘Bad Boy Eren Yeager Ditches Mikasa Ackerman’. He still remembers the headline, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, she’d come home, dropped the offending magazine on the coffee table and hidden in her room for the rest of the night. He’d slept outside her door, and the next morning he’d been woken by her stepping over him to leave, bags packed.

It was sad, they’d never even officially dated to the public, they hadn’t gotten to that point. She’d wanted to reveal it at some awards show by taking him as her date, thanking him in her speech, her boyfriend, Eren Yeager. Overnight the paparazzi had singlehandedly broken them up for shit he hadn’t even done.

He had no one but himself to blame.

Hard for me to justify the women I was into

Looking back, he can’t say why he did it or what the purpose of all the models that looked eerily like her were for. Maybe he was trying to fill the empty space in his heart, maybe he felt neglected by her friendship with Jean and how obvious the man’s feeling for her were, but for one reason or another, he’d slept his way through about half of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and award shows were awkward these days. Meeting the eyes of all the talented women he’d hooked up with in such a professional setting was uncomfortable at best.

How many more did he not even remember, to high off drugs and alcohol and his own ego?

Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you

He’d seen it in how Jean looked at her the first time they’d walked the red carpet as promotion for their movie. The tall man was a b-list actor and he’d been invited to the pre-screening, and he’d watched Mikasa the entire night. His gaze wasn’t moved by Eren’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist or his chin resting on her head, nor the possessive hand on her thigh.

They hadn’t even been fooling around back then, but he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want Jean’s eyes on her. She was also Mikasa Ackerman, and the whole world thought she was just as beautiful and amazing and perfect as he did.

But she was his. His best friend, love of his life, his everything

If only he’d treated her like it.

Probably made you want to hit the streets on everything

She doesn't take him to the awards show the night he comes begging, but she lets him inside her apartment. Lets him help her with her hair, something he's sorely missed. Something he's familiar with, been braiding her hair since they were kids.

He helps her put it up into a beautiful twist.

And when Jean knocks at her door to take her to the awards show he lets her go, kisses her cheek and tells her how much he loves her, how she's going to win it all and he'll be waiting her when she gets back.

And then she leaves, walks away with another man and Eren thinks he deserves it, it's his penance, how many times has she felt this same way, how many women has he been through?

Probably made you want to pour bleach on everything

He discovers not a single remnant of himself in her apartment, no pictures, no clothes she's borrowed. Even his old sweatshirt, her favourite one is gone. Hell, even their award for best-onscreen-kiss is gone.

He finds it all in a crumpled box under her bed and it's his own fault for snooping, their photo crumpled up and misshapen, riddled with water damage. Probably from her tears if he had to guess.

Probably made you want to kill me on everything

She comes home that night and Eren is surprised, he'd expected her to go to Jean's. Hadn't really believed she was going to come back. Had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch and waiting till tomorrow when she'd come home dishevelled and covered in hickeys and bruises, the kind good sex gives you. The kind he'd never really allowed himself to give her.

That's when she'd really broken and he'd been so fucking happy when she'd thrown her purse at him. No more of her her silent rage, her forced smiles. She'd kicked and screamed, cried in his arms only to hit him brutally with a pillow, chasing him to the end of the couch. Hands restraining his wrists, as she curses him out, tears running down her beautiful cheeks sparkling in the moonlight, she's a vengeful goddess and he deserves every second of her wrath.

She collapses on top of him in a heap of sobs and all he can do is hold her, hating himself just as much as he's sure she does.

Yeah, trust, I know that

He wakes the next morning with her weight in his arms, and he holds her like he never wants to let go.

He's lucky she's even here with him right now, that she didn't kick him out on the spot. That she even cares enough to still fight with him. He kisses her forehead softly, he knows.

Yeah I kinda hate this but whatever have angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

#lys's drabbles

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt. 8)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: OOOOH THINGS ARE STARTING TO GET INTERESTING. Now that we’ve set this up, expect each chapter to be VERY yandere. I know it’s been pretty chill for like half of the series, but not anymore! I’m really excited to write the later chapters, cause I think the twists are gonna be pretty good lol. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy the new part!

A huge thanks to @yanderart for beta reading this part <3. Also, ty to @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart (again lol), @shorkbrian and @sawamooora for helping me brainstorm. I suck at writing smut big time and you guys rlly helped me flesh everything out. Love y’all <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!

5.6k words

Warnings: Dubcon, threesome, dumbification, recreational use of drugs and alcohol, coercion, gaslighting, implied stalking, ambiguous implied themes

“I think this calls for some drinks, whaddya say princess?”

Hizashi was already rising from his spot on the couch before you could answer. Making his way into the kitchen, he quickly disappeared from your line of sight to fix up whatever concoction of alcohol he sought fit.

Much to your appreciation, neither of the two heroes had pressured you just yet into discussing your agreement from a mere few days ago. Thursday morning had passed by in a blur, and to nobody’s surprise, you continued with business as usual.

And what seemed to be a recurring factor in your life as of late―luck was never quite on your side.

You made it out of the work week by the skin of your teeth. Between a surplus of particularly unruly customers, and the burden of your own conscience, catching a break was an unobtainable reprieve. Anyone in their right mind would’ve looked at you and told you to stay home. To cancel your dinner date with Shouta and Hizashi, and promptly treat yourself to some much needed slumber. But you were everything but in your right mind as of late.

Not a moment went by where you didn’t question yourself. Part of you alarmed in the need for rest, the other wanting to keep going. Unsure of whether you were just overreacting, or if the voice in the back of your head telling you to run and never look back from the two actually had some sense to it.

You went with the former. Which was why you were back in their quaint little home, nestled amongst the bustling city. And in the observant nature you’d been subjected to time and time again, they both immediately picked up on the fact that you were worse for wear. After a dinner that was as appetizing as any other meal they’d made for you, the three of you holed up in the living room.

It turns out they had a pretty long week too. With hero work, teaching, and―what they just had to bring up―making sure you were doing alright, they were thoroughly beat. Almost as much as you.

Hizashi returned, towing three drinks in his hands. What looked like two beers, one for him and one for Shouta―and a colourful, bright looking mixture of god knows what for yourself.

The glass was cold in your hands, a chill offsetting the warmth brought on by both the fireplace and the heat in your cheeks, quickly rising after Hizashi handed off your drink to you with a wink.

The blond was about to retake his seat, until he paused, setting his beer on the coffee table. “Hold on―I actually brought a lil’ somethin’ extra.” The chipper man dug into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small ziplock baggie. The package was a gunmetal grey, with some indiscernible label on the front. Letters too small, and you too far away to see what they read.

“Now, somethin’ tells me you’re probably a newbie to this kinda stuff, but don’t worry ‘bout it!” Hizashi strided closer to you as he spoke, opening up the package with nimble fingers.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, ‘Zashi.” Shouta sounded unamused, but the small smirk forming on his face told a different story.

“Nah, this’ll be good for her! Take the edge off and all that shit, yeah?”

You looked at the baggie curiously, eyebrows knitted as he fished around inside of it. “...What is it, exactly?”

The blond revealed a small gummy between his fingers, holding it out to you. “Edibles. Go on.”

He gestured for you to take the candy from him, and not really knowing what else to do with his insistence, you did. Hizashi retrieved another from the bag, popping it into his mouth. He held the grey package out to Shouta, but he shook his head, a dismissive sigh escaping his lips.

Hesitantly, you stared at the gummy in your hand. “I, uh...I’m not really sure about this. It’s just that―”

“You’ll be fine.” This time it was Shouta to push you, despite having just been more unfavouring of the topic.

You regarded the man worriedly. However, much unlike before, something new had overtaken his expression. Anticipation, expectancy―it was hard to place. But it told you one thing.

Something had changed his mind, and whatever it was, it was enticing enough for him to disregard the possibility of you reacting badly to the edible, and your concerns over the substance in general.

Clearly, he caught on to your apprehension. And, unfortunately for you, his demands were always so much harder to defy than his partner’s. Not that you did much of defying either these days. Still, as of now it was easier to comply than face the consequences of their incessant convincing.

“Think of it as making up for lying to us. You get to relax a little, and we’ll put you back in our good books.”

“Not that you ever left! But ya did hurt us with that, so it’s the least you could do. Right, sweetheart?” Hizashi grabbed his beer from the coffee table, before taking a seat next to you on the couch. Lazily, he threw an arm across the back of it, you tensing slightly at how it was close enough to be resting on your shoulders.

You knew it wasn’t the best idea. But maybe, just maybe, this small piece of laced candy would be what got you through the night. You should still be able to keep your wits about you, but if this meant getting them off your case? Then so be it. Frankly, being trapped in your mind of stressed thoughts was something you sought to escape all the time. This was a decent opportunity to do just that.

Copying Hizashi, perhaps just a little less enthusiastically, you indulged them in seeing you down the gummy. It left a strange aftertaste, so you washed it down with the brightly coloured drink you’d been neglecting this whole time.

Much to your dismay, that didn’t taste any better.

You resolved to leave the drink be, not wanting to deal with the issues that might come out of mixing the two inhibitors. The two of them didn’t really care, as soon enough you all fell back into line, talking about whatever first came to mind.

Times like these honestly made you resentful. How you wished that the two heroes weren’t so suffocatingly bothered about your wellbeing. If they weren’t, maybe you could have nights like these more often. They took up so much time policing your actions―checking up on you, hammering in their agenda, hovering. It was time that could be spent just being your friend.

A normal, no obligations relationship was what you wanted with them. Not the reality of you being their little pet project. Trying to change your long standing ways for the ‘better.’ Genuinely, you enjoyed these moments of reprieve. Where for even just a short while, you could all just look past the reasons as to why you were in their home. Just mindless conversation. Entertaining, engaging―normal.

It wasn’t your fault that they had to go ahead and ruin it.

...

Or maybe it was. You could’ve said no. Tonight, or when they first roped you into their lives.

It didn’t really matter now.

_____

The concept of time was...difficult to grasp.

You didn’t know when Shouta had taken up residence right next to you, so close the two of you were touching. Whatever they were saying, you liked it. You were giggling, almost spilling your mostly untouched drink. The condensation on the glass was dripping down your hand, a chill that you didn’t even notice. After a particularly amusing jab at who knows what, you nearly let the contents of the liquid slush out over the rim.

Hizashi laughed at your sedated carelessness, “Woah there, songbird. Lemme take that from you before ya stain the couch, yeah?”

“Clumsy little thing, isn’t she?” The deep baritone of Shouta’s voice next to you sends automatic shivers up and down your spine, muscles tightening for a split second.

By now, you had no clue how much either of them had to drink. Or if they even drank at all. Combing your hazy memory, you couldn’t quite place a moment where you caught them doing anything other than chatting away. Shouta’s beer was still on the side table next to where he was sitting. As for Hizashi’s, well―it was too much effort to crane your neck to see where it lay.

The blond faced you again, “She’s such a cutie like this―all buzzed out. You feelin good there?”

A crooked, goofy looking smile was spread across your lips. “Mhmm…” The drifting response matched your expression, light and pleased.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Shouta, speaking through his actions, and very uncharacteristically, wrapped sturdy arms around your waist. Blissfully dazed, you only let out light and bashful laughs as the man pulled you into his lap. Your legs hung off the side of his toned thighs, while he kept an arm around your waist, the other squeezing your plush hip.

Inhibitions having left you about five minutes ago, you failed to see the predatory glint in Hizashi’s eyes. He moved closer to the both of you, “Oh, I can think of plenty of things we can do…” His hand ran up the length of your thigh―exposed, given how you chose to wear a dress this Saturday.

Lazily, your gaze trailed his movements. Slow, teasingly, letting you feel with anticipation as it crept higher, and higher.

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

Another hand―Shouta’s―lightly gripped your chin. Turning your head, or more like him turning your head, your focus met his darkened one. “...Such little tease, you are.”

Something distant, uncompleted, clicked in the back of your mind. You tried grasping at it, straining to get a hold on whatever that thought was trying to tell you. “I...what do you m―”

So much for that thought.

Shouta’s lips collided with yours, ending any coherent understanding that was developing in that swift movement. His hand, once cupping your face, switched to firmly cradle the back of your head.

Whatever remained of your common sense had you weakly attempting to pull away. But it was no use, when Shouta held you in place, the force of your feeble resistance not bothering him in the slightest. If anything, he found it cute.

How hard you tried to fight them, even now.

His lips moved against yours, the day old scruff tickling your skin. That small sensation pierced your fogged thoughts, intaking a sharp breath of air through your nose. While you focused on that, you barely noticed the blond’s wandering hands.

At least, not until they found their destination. You let out a drawn out moan as Hizashi pressed two fingers against your clothed mound. Your legs would’ve shut, but he had already settled in between them, kneeling over you with a satisfied look.

An amused grin spread across his face as you unconsciously ground yourself into his fingers while he rubbed you through the soft material of your thin panties. “Ohhh, yeah. She’s feeling good all right.”

You should’ve stayed home.

Shouta detached himself from your lips, and Hizashi was quick to take his place. With his free hand, he’d done like his partner and turned you to face him.

While he wasn’t as graceful, you didn’t really have a mind to care. Not when it was overwhelmed with the suffocating closeness of the two men.

You should’ve left once they offered you a drink, or the edible.

The erasure hero peppered small kisses down your neck, stopping only to speak. “Bet we could make her feel even better…” The seductive tone of his voice, spoken low into your ear shot straight to your core, feeling butterflies at his words.

You shouldn't have let your guard down.

Gasping in response, Shouta nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and working to leave a mark in his wake. His partner took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Even in your disoriented state, the sensation of a piercing was a stark contrast in comparison to everything else Hizashi was making you feel.

Too fixated on that, you once again failed to keep track of what was going on around you. It was more like you simply felt it, absorbed the way it was making your body react, without much of a care for the circumstances.

A common occurrence, nowadays.

And it didn’t matter what you should’ve done anymore. It wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.

Shouta’s calloused hands squeezed your hips, kneading them and relishing in your softness. Always the direct one, he grasped the hem of your dress. The hero smiled against your neck, pleased with how compliant Hizashi’s little treat had made you.

If only you could be like this all the time.

As his partner’s fingers continued their ministrations, not being nearly enough to help you seek release, Shouta lifted up your dress.

Catching on soon enough, Hizashi parted from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Let’s get you outta this, huh pretty girl?”

The dots didn’t connect. You didn’t know why things felt just the slightest bit off, only that the familiar and nagging hint of doubt was currently fighting tooth and nail to keep its place at the back of your mind.

You didn’t respond. But they didn’t really care.

Hizashi held your arms up as Shouta peeled your dress off. The flimsy article was quickly discarded on the floor, landing somewhere out of sight. Not really comprehending whether you regretted the actions that led you here now, you let yourself get caught up in their movements, the air of room hitting your exposed breasts.

The blond noted with a low whistle at the fact that you’d neglected to wear a bra, too transfixed at the moment to deduce why.

You knew why, distantly―everything felt distant right now.

While Shouta resumed littering your neck with open mouthed kisses, his partner got to work on making a mess of your front. You couldn’t tell which hands belonged to whom, only that they were on your body. Groping, kneading, taking in how much more delicate you were compared to them.

A fragile little thing.

...How did they hold out this long?

A small yelp escaped you as one of them pinched your hardening nipple, making you squirm fruitlessly in their grasp.

Shouta chuckled at your reaction, “That was a cute noise, kitten. Why don’t you make some more for us?”

The voice hero was slowly leaving marks down your chest, along the curves of your breasts. “Yeah, you can do that for us, right?”

Punctuating his words, his mouth enveloped your pebbled nipple, swirling his piercing tongue around it. His other hand was still steadily rubbing circles into your clothed pussy. You mewled at the sensation, mind still trying to make right from wrong.

“I...I don’t…don’t think this....”

Small tears of frustration threatened to well. You wanted so bad to know where this incessant feeling was coming from. Why it was lingering.

Shouta was quick to shut those worried thoughts down though. “Shhh...just let us take care of you.”

Hizashi’s voice sounded strained―needy. “Fuck, Shou’. I can’t hold back any longer…”

His partner, being the only person in the room with a clear mind, paused before replying. Ever the hard-headed one, now technically shouldn’t be any different. But, with the way you were moving on his lap, unconsciously grinding against him...maybe his head wasn’t as clear as he thought.

...

“I’m not stopping you.”

The look of pure relief at the erasure hero’s words was instant. Because really, the only reason he hadn’t fucked you senseless yet was because Shouta was doing everything in his power to control him. They needed to wait until you were ready, even if it meant giving you something to make you a bit more open to the idea.

Deft fingers looped under the hem of your panties, Hizashi’s eyes glistening at the thin string of arousal on the fabric as he pulled them away from your core. He quickly dragged them down your legs and discarding them in a similar fashion as your dress.

Maneuvering you so that your back was to Shouta’s chest, the erasure hero spread your legs, holding them apart by draping them off either sides of his own. The blond dropped to his knees on the floor in front of you both, taking in the way your folds glistened with the flickering light of the fireplace.

But before he could make a move, Shouta spoke up.

“Wait, maybe we should take this to the bedr―”

“Fuck that.”

Without uttering another word on the subject, Hizashi buried his face in between your legs. Unable to restrain yourself, you cried out as his tongue slid up your heat, the piercing deliciously adding pressure to your clit.

Shouta laughed a bit at your reaction, letting you mindlessly throw your head back on his shoulder. His hands came to grope your breasts, sighing in satisfaction at their soft give against his fingers. “You’ve been holding out on us, kitten. You’re lucky we’re going easy on you right now.”

His counterpart hummed in agreement, sending pleasurable waves of warmth throughout you. His tongue continued circling your clit, noting all the things that made you squirm and whine in response, using them to work you over even more.

Unable to recognize the true meaning to his words, you simply let your body succumb to their ministrations. Your mouth hung open, small noises leaving you in your blissed out state, body completely bare while they were still fully clothed.

You were under a lethal combination of sedating exhaustion from the week, coupled with the ingredients in the gummy Hizashi was ever so quick to offer. It left you pliant, melting into their hold.

You felt good. Really good.

Hizashi’s right hand drifted up, fingers coating themselves in your dripping essence. You writhed as they dipped into your folds, toying with your puffy clit. He replaced them with his tongue once again, letting them tease at your entrance.

The lust filled side of you bucked your hips against him, urging the voice hero to fill you up with his slender fingers.

“Someone’s a little needy.” You ignored the condescending tone coating Shouta’s words, distracted with the way the blond’s fingers refused your insistence.

“I...please…” You didn’t really know what it was you were begging for. Just that you needed him to do something, anything. If it meant he’d stop teasing you.

“I got ya, pretty girl. Just relax now.” Putting you out of your misery, a long and nimble finger pushed past your entrance. The digit skilfully curled inside of you, repeating the action with each thrust.

Desperate for something to hold on to, you gripped the arm that Shouta had wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned firmly against him. A precaution, of course. They weren’t going to have you backing out of this now. Not after you’d let yourself go so much, and they finally had the chance to prove how good they could be to you.

The stretch of Hizashi adding a second finger felt incredible, but even more so was when they hit that sensitive bundle of nerves with pinpointed accuracy. You jolted from the sensation, toes curling as he targeted the spot while simultaneously keeping his mouth busy in ways that sent your mind reeling.

He pulled away for a moment, enjoying the sight above him as you squirmed in Shouta’s hold. “That your sweet spot, baby?” Putting emphasis on his words, he began delivering even harder thrusts, going back to repeatedly flick at your clit with his tongue.

“You take his fingers so well, don’t you kitten?”

You could feel the coil beginning to tighten, a sedating warmth spreading across your body. If you were facing Shouta, you would be able to see the devious smirk stretched across his lips.

The man was growing impatient―for once in his life when it came to you. But, could you really blame him? Here you were, splayed out across his lap and oh so vulnerable. So cute, so fucked out of your mind.

It was time to move things along, if only so he could get a taste.

His free hand weaved itself into the long and loose blond locks cascading down Hizashi’s shoulders. The man in question gave an inquisitive look, before quickly being cut off. Shouta yanked the man forward by his hair, causing him to press even harder into your sensitive cunt. He groaned as the pain shot through his scalp, the vibrations of his voice, semi-quirk activated, shooting through your core.

That was enough for you. The buildup of heat, how your body felt like it was melting under their touch―in an instant it was amplified tenfold. Your eyebrows furrowed, muscles tensing as you came around Hizashi’s fingers, and on his tongue―both of which were still relentlessly stimulating you through your high. Even when you finally calmed down, the blond continued to greedily lap at your juices, causing you to shake and whine as you were still far too sensitive.

Shouta, a hand still gripping his partner's hair, pulled Hizashi away from you since he realized that clearly he would just keep going if he didn’t intervene.

Your whole being feeling more ragdoll like now, if that was even possible, gave way easily to their hurried repositioning. Having nearly passed out from that alone, the scene unfolding around you went right over your head. Clothes being torn off, belts hastily undone, two very painfully hard men trapping you in between them.

At some point, one of them had put you on your hands and knees on the couch. Well, it was more like you had your ass raised in the air, while you tiredly slumped against the soft cushions. However, the feeling of something running up and down your folds managed to stave off that threatening exhaustion.

“Don’t go passing out on us just yet, kitten.” The gravelly voice came from behind you, letting you know that it was Shouta who was gripping your hip with one hand, the other guiding his cock to your sopping entrance.

Which meant, the pretty and pierced cock in front of you must belong to Hizashi.

“Open up for me, songbird.”

Through semi-wet lashes, you peered up at the voice hero who was towering over you. The hand that wasn’t pumping his length gripped your jaw. And, with a little pressure, he forced your mouth open.

You just needed a little encouragement, is all.

He let out a strangled moan as he pushed his way past your wetted lips, nearly cumming right then and there at how warm you felt around him.

Shouta wasn’t doing much better in the area of self restraint, using his partner’s distraction to sheath himself inside your pussy. His want for control wore thin as your walls fluttered around him, deliciously sucking him in inch by inch.

Both of the men were on cloud nine, finally getting a taste of how you really felt. Those moments of consoling weren’t always innocent, touches yearning to go further. And now that they’d gone to those lengths, now that they were going through those long desired motions, the two realized you were so much better than they could’ve ever imagined.

You moaned around Hizashi’s cock as his partner bottomed out inside of you. His length filled you up in ways neither yours or the blond’s fingers could. Even when he pulled out and thrusted back into your heat, he’d already managed to hit that perfect angle.

Both going at their own pace, your body rocked back and forth as the men took advantage of your delirious state. You couldn’t exactly call it abusing your holes―they weren’t being that rough. But Shouta’s cock was stretching your walls just a bit more than you were prepared for. And Hizashi was slowly forgetting with each passing second that he couldn’t just force his whole length down your throat.

Actually, maybe they were overestimating your limits.

Could you blame them, though? Seeing you day after day, doing their best to not scare you away as they held back the near uncontrollable urge to just take what they wanted. Having to watch you let yourself get run down, when they could’ve been taking care of you.

Why did you have to put up such a fight?

Shouta didn’t think he'd agree with Hizashi when he suggested offering you the edible. Oh, how glad he was for letting him do so now. Because he had to admit, seeing you bent over, deepthroating the blond while he got a nice view of you from behind―it was worth the wait, and the hint of shame that came from inducing you to accept them in such a way.

His tired eyes were lost on the way you took the both of them, shamelessly moaning against Hizashi, hips unconsciously rocking back against him to garner some more stimulation. It was only when the voice hero pulled you off of his pierced cock, the sounds of you gasping for breath meeting his ears, did Shouta break out of that trance.

“Hey...ya think I’d fit in there too?”

The blond was referring to your already decently stuffed cunt, dripping with arousal that was running down your thighs.

Shouta’s lips quirked into a slight smirk.

“...We can make it fit.”

You didn’t quite know what to think. Your mind felt...strange. Weighed down―by exhaustion, some indiscernible veil, but also the need to feel more.

The two helped you sit up, Shouta’s length still fully inside of you. Hizashi eagerly positioned himself in front of you, hands wandering across your body, searching for purchase to ground him.

You did the same to him, mindlessly throwing your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back as the tip of his cock teasingly nudged your clit.

Hizashi laughed a little at your fucked out face, drool seeping from your mouth and running down your chin. His thumb wiped away some stray falling tears, before giving your cheeks a few gentle pats. He found your blissed expression, albeit a lot more intense than he’d seen before, a familiar and amusing thing. “I’ll never get sick of seein’ ya like this, songbird.”

The meaning to his words went directly over your head. Must not have been that important, right?

Unable to really register what was going on, just that suddenly, you felt much more full than you had been a second ago, your brows scrunched in...discomfort?

It didn’t really feel bad, it was just a lot to handle.

Hizashi’s head fell onto your shoulder as he slowly let you sink down on his cock. He let out a hiss, feeling your walls clamp down around him, impossibly and deliciously tight. The small noises that escaped your lips as his piercings dragged against your sensitive spot nearly made them both abandon caution that second.

But they would never hurt you, not unless it was necessary. They wanted to take care of you―even if you were too out of it to realize.

The seconds ticking by as you adjusted to them felt like hours in their book. Finally, after what could’ve been an eternity, Hizashi bottomed out inside of you. The blond relished in the way your nails threatened to break the skin of his shoulders and back as they began thrusting in and out of you, your cunt welcoming them in.

No coherent words could form in your mind, reduced to nothing more than a dumbed down puddle of pleasure. You couldn’t care less about the lewd wet and slapping noises, or how you were quite literally a ragdoll in their arms. Not when the only constant on your mind was how you felt good. Better than you had in a long time. It wasn’t a feeling of safeness, but still, it wasn’t something you wanted to get away from. For now, at least.

Both of the heroes could tell how well your body was reacting to them―by the way your head lolled back against Shouta’s broad frame, or how whimpers and cries of ecstasy spilled from your parted lips.

“...Is our kitten enjoying herself?”

You didn’t respond. Not with words, at least.

Hizashi responded properly for you. “Look at her pretty little face, ‘course she is. Y’know...I could get used to this―what about you, Shou’?”

Arms tangled amongst each other, the two held you upright as they rutted against you. Much like yourself, the pleasure they felt was greatly dulcifying their inhibitions.

You probably wouldn’t remember anything they had to say, though.

The erasure hero grinned at that thought―having you like this for them all the time. Something to look forward to after a long day. The sight of you, safe in their home, waiting for their return. Ready for them to spoil you in every which way possible. Just like you deserved.

“...You saying we should speed things up?”

Now that idea, it gave Hizashi purpose. He was aching to swoop you up―had been for a long time. His hips pistoned in and out of you faster, harder than before.

The blond grasped your jaw in one hand, forcing you to look at him. “Bet you would like that, pretty girl.” With a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, you cried out as he thoughtlessly spoke to you. “Bet you want us doting on ya all day...fucking you ‘till ya can’t walk―that’s what you want, right?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, the task of forming a response, one that held your truth, being absolutely impossible. You didn’t know what they wanted, and all you craved was to give them a reply to keep them doing whatever it was they were.

“...I..y-yes?”

Wrong answer.

The both of them moved with a new sense of vigour, leaving you clawing at anything you could get your hands on in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“Hear that, Shou’? Our baby’s askin’ for us to take care of her.”

The erasure hero gripped your hips in an iron like hold, sure to leave tender bruises the next day. “Can’t say no to that, now can we?”

The warmth pooling in your belly was growing more intense with each passing second, leaving you to writhe in their grasp, not really knowing how to handle yourself. Every little thing they said, whether to you, or just about you didn’t exactly register. As their speed picked up, the heroes nearing their release just as fast as you, Shouta weaved a hand in between yours and the blond’s body.

You jolted at the feeling of two of his fingers pressing tight circles into your puffy clit, still being jostled as their movements quickened. The two men groaned as your walls clamped down around them, the sounds that met your ears going straight to your core.

“You gonna cum for us, baby?”

Hizashi’s hand, still on your jaw, moved to the back of your head. He held it so that you didn’t merely lay limp against Shouta’s shoulder, propped in his grasp so that he could see your dazed and lust filled expression. You could only nod in response, his question somehow permeating through the thick fog settled over your rational thoughts.

Picking up on the small acknowledgement to Hizashi’s words, Shouta’s ministrations focused on bringing you to release. His fingers never ceased in aimedly toying with your clit, spurred on by the way you reacted so well to them.

The white hot pressure building inside of you was reaching its crescendo. Where one of them left your heat, the other was there to fill you right back up, constantly crashing against your bundle of nerves. That familiar and intense sensation washed over your body as you reached your second peak of the night, convulsing in their arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your walls fluttering around their lengths, somehow making it even tighter, a reaction deliciously consuming to the two. Truly better than their imaginations could’ve conceived, the feeling of you coming undone caused them to tumble over the edge of their release as well.

Shouta’s head dipped, face buried in the junction between your neck and collarbones. He grunted into the skin covered in a sheen of sweat, painting your walls white while you continued to tremble in their embrace. Hizashi’s grip on the back of your head tightened, pulling on your hair and making you wince as a sharp pain shot across your scalp. Ropes of cum coated your insides, mixing with the already existing seed, now spilling down your thighs and dripping onto the couch.

All three of you were heaving with acute exhaustion, you maybe slightly more. Coming down from your high, the adrenaline that had just spiked was leaving your body, taking nearly all of your energy with it.

You slumped against their bodies, falling against Shouta while Hizashi still cradled the back of your head. It felt as if lead was weighing down your whole being, threatening to pull you into a deep slumber. And, seeing as you couldn’t find the reason to fight it given your mentally reduced state, you let it.

Your eyelids fluttered, shutting with relief as fatigue enveloped you, drowning you in its sedation.

But someone’s voice, you couldn’t place who’s, ripped you from the respite of sleep. The message igniting that strange, unidentifiable nagging of worry. Yet, it faded as soon as it came, overshadowed by the insatiable movements returning in the two men.

“...We’re not done with you yet.”

(End of part 8)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner @idratherliveinbooks @silver-stardrop @niko-su993 @olivia-grace26 @shigsteranddabstersimp @hawks96@pink-dodo-writes @amishahosein24 @keilemlucent @stargazingaloneatnight @thelilmisskaydesi @morganseeksindependence-blog @teabutnerdy @patchworkpiper

If you’re name was crossed out it’s because I couldn’t tag you!

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere aizawa #yandere hizashi #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere writing #yandere fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #tw dubcon #tw gaslighting #tw coercion #tw dumbification #tw drugs #tw alcohol

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Bruce hugs Tim after Tim fought with Jack

Alright, fellas, gonna be honest. Got way into the whys and hows of the actual fight with Jack over the actual comforting hug with Bruce.

It’s in there, oh boy it’s there, but I’m curious to see if this thing even fits into a Tumblr post cause I don’t know what the limits are actually.

So uh,

Trigger Warnings for: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Threats of the Police (is that a trigger warning? cause I feel like it should be nowadays), traumatization, and potentially more. Oh, and Alfred has a gun but idk if that falls into any triggers.

It’s not a “Jack is evil” fiction. I tried to stay away from that. But I didn’t try to not make him do something I did feel like he’d do at the same time. He never hits Tim, I’ll say that.

Hoping it’s not too bad. I feel it’s half decent. So ayy.

Wasn’t sure what to call it.

Maybe “Assumptions and Consequences” idk.

Also probably has lots of typos and grammar mistakes so sorry for that lol.

Tim Drake loved his dad. His biological mother had already died, and Jack was all Tim had. Dana Winters was only Jack’s girlfriend who was wanting to become Tim’s mother, but it hadn't happened quite yet. So Tim only had one parent left, and man, did it suck to have a parent sometimes when you’re Robin. All the lying from having to be Robin drove Tim mad some days. Plus neither of them were quite compatible with one another. Honestly how were they even related?

Jack thought Tim was a bad kid. Well, he didn’t, but look at the evidence. Tim kept sneaking out, leaving school early, getting into fights. That was a kid acting out if Jack ever knew, and Jack would blame himself, until he couldn’t be bothered about it. Was it Jack’s fault? Jack had a habit of forgetting it a day or two after an accident. So he never really did improve yet, despite saying he would.

But the thing was, Tim wasn’t a bad kid. He was a great kid; a really great kid. Tim Drake was Robin the Boy Wonder. Not that he was the most talented, or most efficient at being Robin, but Tim filled the job out well. Being a good kid as Robin, meant having to be a bad kid as Tim though. When Tim saw bad things happening, Tim had to disappear, for Robin to take a beating, and for Tim to keep the bruises.

One day it got too much for Jack to handle. Tim wasn’t even home yet, and Jack’s face was red. The man of the house kept pacing back and forth really considering what he had to do to contain Tim this time. In his sea of tension he started biting down on his fist to get out some of the anger but it wasn’t stopping. What would Tim’s mother think of Tim right now? All those years of Janet protecting Tim and coddling him, and all it took was--what a few years for Tim to turn into this? Janet would’ve been so disappointed in him.

Jack sat down in his recliner past midnight to wait for his son, and only seconds after the creaking sound of his chair did he hear the doorknob twisting on the opening door that must’ve been his son. Must’ve been a lazy day for Tim. Normally Tim would come in through the window of his bedroom. Jack was actually listening for a creak on the walls. After a quick sigh that came deep within the chest, Jack tossed down his remote swiftly onto the table making a loud smacking sound, as he stood up and turned around.

It was darkly lit like a shadowy alley way in the house. All Jack wanted to do was scare the crap out of Tim. He didn’t care how small Tim was, or how young he was, if Tim was so willing to let Jack be scared, Jack thought it only made sense for him to scare Tim right back to make it only fair. Jack grabbed a flashlight on the coffee table and shined it in the eyes of the small figure that stood right in his doorway. And he made sure to make himself seem as big as he possibly could. Standing up straight, broadening his shoulders, and holding his flashlight up higher.

He prepared his voice as something similar to Clint Eastwood. All he did all day was watch movies and take phone calls, and it really showed. “Tim, do you mind telling me, why in God’s green hell are you so damn f--” Jack quickly squinted his eyes. This wasn’t Tim he was looking at. It was Ariana Dzerchenko, and she was shaking in her boots, while Jack seemed disappointed it wasn’t his son. “What the hell are doing in my damn house?! You’re telling me at 3 A-#@!@#-M you don’t have anything better to do, then open my door when I never even gave you a key? My son isn’t even here. You trying to steal from me?” Jack went over to grab her arm after the brash accusation. “Get over here, I’m calling your Uncle.”

Ariana moved her arm away and backed outside, still shaking. She stared at Jack scared, and concerned. Ariana could tell he was disappointed for the wrong reasons

“Look, it’s either in my house and I call your uncle, and you take another foot and it’s the police.” grunted Jack. He stopped bothering doing the gravelly voice, but he was still oh-so-damned pissed. After Ariana didn’t bother making any move of any sorts, Jack relented and tried to talk a little more normal. “Do you know where Tim is?” he asked like it was only the afternoon and he happened to pass her in the park.

“N-no.” was the only word Ariana could manage to get passed her lips.

Jack’s brow lowered, and angled. “Then why are you here, Miss?” He took a step closer to Ariana. “And be honest.”

“T-Tim, uh, he, uh, he asked me to bring back this and put it on the kitchen counter.” the girl held up the house key. “And all he said to me was that he was going to be late. Really late, and that he didn’t want his dad to worry again.”

All Ariana could see of Jack was the way the shadows contoured around his aging face. Making him not even look human. It made him look paler, with black eyes and a still face that would barely move except when it got angrier.

“He tell you where he was?” Jack asked again as he turned his head to the left. His left ear was his good ear.

“No, sir. He just sounded...swollen-y.”

“Swollen?”

“Like he just got hit in the face again.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

“A really loud engine and some gunshots later when I called him. Look, Mister, I’m really worried about him too. I didn’t even want to come over here--but I was just--I was just hoping he’d be here again maybe. Do you know what he could be doing?”

“Hell no. At this point my son doesn’t tell me anything. All I can guess is that the son of mine, I spent all that money on, is dealing drugs, like my money isn’t good enough for him.”

“Drugs? Timmy? Drugs? I’m not his parent or anything, I’m just his friend, but Tim would never do anything like that. I think he’s in trouble in another way.”

“That’s what I thought, but somehow every week I’m getting a call from the school counselor telling me that my small-fry son is dealing with a bruise of some kind. They found him passed out in school one time, and I found dirt marks on the outside of his window. What kind of normal former-board-school-student do you hear about ending up like that?”

“But Tim went on for hours one time about how he hates drugs. He saw a kid with a bag of something and wouldn’t stop ranting for what felt like an hour. He--”

“Ari--”

“--wouldn’t ever--”

“You can go home, Ariana! And thank you for your time. I won’t tell the police, or your uncle. But just go home now.”

“I--” Ariana closed her eyes and realized she better just go. “Okay. Okay, I’ll...go. Just tell me Tim’s okay when he comes back. And--if it actually ends up being drugs...tell him--tell him we’re over.” she fled the scene not being able to handle it anymore.

Jack didn’t answer back, but he knew that she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything that was going to happen. Once he heard a ruffling in the bush right where Tim’s room would be, he knew that the boy came home. Taking another chest deep breath he slowly walked to that wall where he saw Tim, and he used the flashlight on him for real this time.

That middle parted bowl cut, and baby-face were impossible to misidentify. His already large eyes grew larger and he looked like he saw an entire army of ghosts coming for his head. Sneaking into his own house was something he’s done dozens of times. Tim loved sneaky time, but this time he thought he really messed it up. His Robin career and life flashed right in front of his eyes.

Nothing in Jack’s mind resembled pleasant. Everything was fire and disappointment. Actually seeing his son in the act of sneaking around outside, when he should be in bed made everything he thought felt true as the solution to a math problem. Just like the outlaws in the westerns he watched, Jack narrowed his eyes as he paid attention to his target. He really needed to get outside himself fast.

Tim gasped, as his mind had no thoughts besides a realization that his dad finally caught him sneaking in. “Dad?!” he uttered before being grabbed by the collar of his sweater.

“So you finally decided that my house is better than whatever alley you've been laying in every night?” pushing himself closer to Tim, Jack made it so the only thing he could see of Tim was the panic in his baby blue eyes.

Meanwhile, all Tim could see was the anger in his dad’s face. “W-what are you talking about?!” Tim’s voice cracked. He knew his dad thought something was going on, but he never imagined it’d be this intense. He could break the grip on Jack at any time, but would Jack find that even more suspicious? Tim still had Dana thinking he was too small to play football. Could Jack believe Tim would be able to take down someone over a foot his own size?

“The drugs, Tim. The drugs.” The hoarseness to Jack’s voice was painful. If his hand was around Tim’s neck and not just his collar, he’d be strangling the kid. “I've been staying up each night for the past three days waiting for you to come home. To have a fatherly chat, but all I ever hear is you sneaking up the wall, and I’ve had enough of that. I try to be a father, and you just try to treat me like an obstacle. Is all I am to you, is in your way, Tim? I paid for your freaking ninja camp, and it ends within a week of you being there. If the people running the camp didn’t end up in jail, I’d have the mind to ask them what you exactly did there. A fake piercing, and fake stubble to look tougher? I’d be real curious to know where exactly a 14-year-old kid can buy a fake stubble.”

Tim was really doing his best to try and seem calm. If he didn’t everything would get much worse. Then it donned on him that he was treating his own dad like he would a master criminal in the middle of a breakdown. “Dad, I really know this looks bad. I really do. Trust me. But this isn’t at all like what it seems.”

“Answer me immediately: If I searched your room would I find drugs? Narcotics? Booze?”

Booze. Tim could smell the booze in his dad’s breath. If Tim showed up just a bit earlier it wouldn’t have been this bad. And you know Tim would beat himself up over that when he shouldn’t.

“No, you wouldn’t find anything of the sort. I need you to listen, I’m going to need you to let go of me, and put down the light. It’s hurting me.” Another half second passed where Tim’s brain suddenly tried to process this. And like someone running away from the scene, it hurt too bad to stay on it. “I don’t deal drugs...I--I stop people from selling drugs!” Even in a moment like this, not having to lie for once felt like a weight off of Tim’s shoulders.

The man standing above Tim was about to blind him with that flashlight, but he eventually dropped Tim down onto the wet and muddy grass below them. Where he left him lay and to get mud all over his clothes without any sense of regret. Jack could only think of his late wife. Which seemed rare ever since he got to know Dana better. Strangely, this Janet that Jack was remembering seemed to be a lot more on his side than anyone that knew them back then would remember.

“Don’t talk down to me.” said Jack in an uncomfortably soft voice. “I let you stay in my house because I loved you enough to let you. Your room is my property, everything in there was bought with my money.” The pace he spoke was slow and methodical. His mind was quiet and released. “I am going to look in your room. You’re going to stay here, and when I come back to you. I’ll decide then what’s going to happen to you.”

Should Tim speak? Should he not? What was better right then? When he heard Jack talk about his room, he wasn’t worried about the punishment he’d have to deal with. All he was worried about was any proof about being Robin. That wasn’t just Tim’s own secret to keep. It was a secret he had to share, and was honored to share.

“I--I can’t let you do that, sir.” another voice crack from the kid.

“I bet I know why.” spoke Jack with full eye contact. To him he wasn’t lying to himself. It was a fact he had to find the evidence for. “Let it be known by the way, that I don’t hate you. I’m scared for you. But you also make it awfully hard to love you lately.”

That was one hit Tim couldn’t dodge.

Being 3 AM not too many people were able to witness any of this happening, except for one particular neighbor in Alfred Pennyworth. He was tidying up around the side windows on the second floor when he could see some sort of commotion at the Drake residence. Using binoculars like a bird watcher that exclusively looks for Robins, he saw Tim on the ground and Tim’s dad above him. That wasn’t going to fly past anyone in Stately Wayne Manor.

Very quickly he let Bruce know that Tim needed help and why. It’d only take a few minutes for him to return to his home, but it felt crucial. Tim needed a father figure that felt like he’d protect him, and not vilify him. In no world is Batman the best for the job of dad, but he gave it his best unlike Jack.

Outside it was wet from the harsh rain earlier in the evening. Most of the lights in the neighbors were out, signifying they had gone to sleep. A foot felt like a yard when everything was so quiet and dark.

So though the owner of the manor wouldn’t exactly appreciate it, Alfred brought a small fire-arm in the inner pocket of his suit jacket just in case things went worse. Very quickly he rushed his way over to Tim, making it just after Jack entered the Drake residence again. Tim still seemed in such a shock that he didn’t even try to get himself up.

In his head, Tim meant to go after his dad, but his mental legs just gave out on him. Leaving him to sit in the mud as he panics about what could happen next. He recounted where all of his Robin stuff was. During his messy messy thoughts he was almost certain that it was all on, wearing it under his clothes. Confidence was never Tim’s highest attribute though. Normally it was his perceptiveness, but it was failing him. He was lucky he could still recognize Alfred.

“Alfred?” said a confused Tim who was dazed more and more as the night went on.

“Young Master Timothy, are you alright?” greeted the Butler as he helped Tim up to see his feet. “I didn’t see everything, but I saw everything I needed to.” He quickly noticed a bruise on Tim’s cheek. “Young sir, did he do this to you, or was it another person?”

“Who’s ‘he’?” Tim’s eyes widened and looked past Alfred. “Dad?”

Alfred may have been an older man, but he wasn’t a man you should bother trying to stand taller than. The quiet, noble man turned around promptly and stood his ground and he saw fit. Only reaching his hand in, just in case, with no intent on striking first. When Alfred turned around to see the returning Jack, there wasn’t any cowardice within him. Former British Secret Service agent Alfred Pennyworth could get the drop on anyone if he tried hard enough, besides those with powers. Tim’s dad wasn’t someone with powers, so Alfred had his number ready just in case.

Jack on the other hand only had a vague sense of right and wrong keeping him from hurting anyone. Just sick of the lies, and obvious sneaking around. Whoever thought Jack was a good dad never really saw enough of him.

“Who--Are you--are you Wayne’s butler? Did he call you?” Jack asked, pointing at Tim. “The kid’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just being sensitive.”

“Jack Drake, I want to let you know that I am not a blind man, nor an easily fooled man. And that all I see when I look into the eye’s a man such as you, that all I see is an inner-pain that I’ve seen nearly everyday since my eyes could first see, and my mind could first retain thought. All you do is feel bitter, distract yourself, and in the moments where you can’t, you take it out on everyone else. If I look at the ground behind me, I can see a very brave boy have a fear so bad that he didn’t even want to get out of the mud. Either meaning he’s about to be killed, or he’s being traumatized, and I don’t see a gun in your hand. So sit down and get some rest, and think about it. While I’ll take young Timothy with me where he’ll be safe for the night, sir.”

“You know I’m not going to let you do that.” growled Jack.

“Then allow me to let you know that in my inner jacket pocket I have a firearm that you know I’ll use. Not to aim at your head, but below the waist where, if you don’t already know, it won’t count for attempted murder.”

“I’ll call the cops on you then, you bum. You’ve freeloaded on Wayne before that man could walk. To this city you’re nobody but the guy that used to wipe Wayne’s ass.”

“I’m mighty gracious I don’t have any worry of convincing you of anything. The reputation I actually do have serves me enough just fine. As for...your reckless statement on the police, I should let you know we have cameras showing everything that happened. You wouldn’t be the one winning in court.” Alfred didn’t look pleased when he took another glance at Tim who was struggling to process any of this. Alfred was there in the same home Tim was in when he found out his mother died. This wasn’t something Alfred enjoyed doing. “You can come with me now, Timothy. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Surprisingly, Jack let them walk away. Jack wasn’t an evil man. But not being evil doesn’t equal being good. Life was just complicated, and so was he. Did he regret his actions? Well, he isn’t a monster. Of course he did--Well, maybe he did. Who really freaking knew. But did he know why exactly he did if he had? Not quite. Was he going to get better? There was going to be a while before that’d happen.

Inside Tim’s own heart he felt dead. The remains of his biological family seemed to break down into crumbs of dust. Where was home anymore? Jack didn’t say he wasn’t allowed to come back home, but the message was made plenty clear that he couldn’t go back home easily. Actually, Tim didn't know if he wanted to go home after that. Even for such a great detective, Tim had no clue what his dad was going to be like after that.

Mud. Ew, the mud. It was all over Tim’s clothes and hands from his fall. It certainly wasn’t going to help Tim’s mood.

“Young Master Timothy, I think it’d be in your best interest to get a bath and relax. You can give me your clothes for me to wash, and I’m sure we have some of your clothes around here somewhere for you to lay around in.” he stated as he opened the door to Stately Wayne Manor for Tim.

Tim barely said any words, and said none of all during the walk to the Manor. “Oh, okay, Alfie.” Even his tone of voice seemed down on himself.

Seeing Tim so frozen stiff over it was breaking Alfred’s heart bit by bit. He’s seen Tim shake in fear, he’s seen him panic, but never frozen. This really was different. It was obvious it would be, but seeing it in person is always a different feeling. As they went up stairs you wouldn’t know Tim was an athlete. Alfred saw how natural Tim was at acrobatics in front of his own eyes, and now he saw the young boy struggling going up stairs.

Batman wasn’t able to make it till after Tim was in the bath. So he’d have to wait a bit to speak with him. He took off his cowl and how upset he was, was immediately evident. He had a stubble covered frown, and was breathing heavily, which was odd since he came home in the Batwing. As someone who stops domestic disturbances like this when he has to, he was fuming.

“We have to do something about Jack Drake, Alfred.” said Bruce drinking the tea Alfred gave them, as they waited for Tim in the kitchen.

“Something involving the courts may I assume?” assumed Alfred.

Bruce shook his head. “No. At least not yet, unfortunately.”

“Sir, but we have the evidence. There’s no doubt we’d win.”

“He’s still Tim’s father. That means something, and is a bond that’s hard to break, and shouldn’t be broken.”

“If I was only a second or two late, I would say it’s accurate to assume Mister Jack Drake was going to strike Timothy. He reeked of liquor and tossed him onto the ground.”

“But he didn’t hit him. Sounding harsh isn’t my imperative. But accusing a child of doing something they didn’t do, wouldn’t classify as anything that’d allow Tim to leave. And again, Tim and Jack are family. We shouldn’t break a family. That isn’t a good goal to set.”

“Are you really defending a man that didn’t bother to raise his own son, that he threatened with boarding school over something he should be more sympathetic with, and berates him when Tim actually acts his own age? People can change, Master Wayne, but when people are constantly given chances, those chances should run out eventually.”

“What would you suggest, Alfred? I’m doing what's best for Tim in my eyes. If we took him from his dad he’d hate us forever. Once Tim is able to function properly again, he’ll just look at it like another incident in his life. He’ll want to go back whether he wants to or not, because in his heart he loves his father.”

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to say, Master Wayne. But your over glorification of genetic parents because of the death of your own seems to have left you forgetting that whether biological or not, your family isn’t truly who’s related to you by blood.” Alfred sighed having to speak in such a rough way. “You’ve brought in Master Grayson as your ward, and Master Todd as your son. Family is who you bring in close and who you choose to stay with, and if you all care for one another. Sir, you know this best. And I’m not forgetful that they had no parents left when you brought them in, but don’t forget that just because they live right beside your home that damage isn’t being done to a child.”

The chair Bruce was sitting on squeaked as he moved back to stand up. He made his way up the stairs to where Tim was getting a bath. He took a deep breath, and took a moment to consider his actions, and knocked on the door.

“Tim--Tim are you decent? I’d like to speak to you about what happened. Now, it doesn’t have to be right this moment. Take any moment you need. But we need to know if--”

In a quick unhesitating moment, the door opened, and Tim never looked smaller to Bruce. The vulnerable look in his eye mixed with the oversized sweater he had on. The kid was still damp from a poor job drying himself, but it didn’t stop him from leaping at Bruce and putting his arms around him for a hug. Tim rested his head on Bruce’s chest as it was the highest he could reach, and he squeezed as hard as he could. A slight tear went down Tim’s face. Did he hear Alfred and Bruce? In the moment it didn’t matter, and Bruce hugged him back in a fatherly embrace. Neither of them knew what to do.

As the hug continued on longer Bruce lifted Tim into the air in a similar matter as Jack and Tim as Tim went to make sure they were okay during No Man’s Land. Would Tim remember that and choose to stay with Jack? Did Tim still believe Jack would get better? Or would Bruce’s rare act of physical affection convince Tim to tell everything he knew to make a case to stay with Bruce? Did it even matter yet?

It felt like a part of Tim’s life died, but as an era of your life is killed, another is born. Something new you have to make the best out of. Maybe the era will stay and it’ll get better, or maybe not. The future was a mystery, and could be scary. If it wasn’t then people wouldn’t be pretending to be fortune tellers. Sometimes though, it’s best just to remember and focus on the present.

“I love you, R--um, Tim. I hope you know this. I care about you, and want to protect you for as long as I can, and if needed I’m absolutely willing to--” Bruce was cut off by a still tearful Tim.

“I love you too, Bruce.”

#Tim Drake #Robin #Alfred Pennyworth #Jack Drake #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Fan fics #Fan fictions

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Needed It

Barry Berkman x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: crying, mental breakdown,

Author’s Note: one of hopefully many for barry because i love him, cheers

Summary: Barry comes to your house on accident.

Genre: angst fluff? Its late idk

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Barry was exhausted. There was never a time these days that he wasn’t exhausted. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and fall asleep, never to be woken again. Alas, he had things that he deemed important to do. No matter how much he didn’t want to do it.

The day had just ended and he was on his way home. Finally.

The moon dripped over the darkness of the nights. The stars had come out and twinkled above the car as he pulled into your driveway. He looked at the door and cursed myself.

He hadn’t meant to come to your house. He had meant to go home. But his brain sometimes went on autopilot and then he was driving and he ended up at some place he hadn’t intended. It truly was not really his fault.

He wondered if you were awake. If you weren’t awake he didn’t want to wake you up. That would be the worst idea. But if you were awake, he did want to talk to you. He didn’t want to disturb you. But he did want to talk to y-

“Barry?”

He almost jumped. He turned his head to see you, standing in the driveway in front of the car, in his headlights. He turned them off and you walked over to the drivers window. He rolled it down. You adjusted the sweater you were wearing so that you were warmer.

“It’s freezing. What are you doing out here?” he asked. You laughed lightly.

“Barry this is my house. What are you doing here?”

He looked forward and at the house. It was your house. You were right. He turned back to you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come here. I spaced.”

You looked out at the night and the streets before looking back at him. Barry started the car.

“I’ll just...go,” he said, starting the car. You shook your head, reaching through the window and grabbing his arm. He turned to you, eyes wide. He then turned off the car.

“Stay. You’re clearly not in the right mind to be driving. Are you on drugs?”

“No, I’m not on drugs.”

“Good. Come on.”

You opened the door for him and he got out of the car. You walked together back into your house.

“Were you sleeping?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Watching Law and Order reruns. You didn’t interrupt me at all,” you said, reassuring him. He had been in your home plenty of times before but every time he was pleased with it. Organized mess. Everything in it’s place. So you. “I am tired though. You wanna spend the night? I’m not letting you back out if you can’t figure out where you’re going.” You sat on the couch. He did the same, awkwardly. He looked around as though he hadn’t seen this place dozens of times.

“I won’t bother you-”

“Barry.” He nodded slowly. You took off the hat he was wearing and put it on the coffee table. You threw him a blanket. He caught it. You sensed something was wrong. He had had a hard day. A hard existence. You liked Barry a lot. More so than you thought you would. He looked at the TV and tried to think of something to say but you beat him to it. “How was your day?”

He was almost caught off guard.

“I...good I guess.”

You shook your head and moved forward on the couch, putting your head on his shoulder. Instinctively he put his arm around you and there it stayed. The sound of the TV droned out and he was now only focused on you in his arms.

“I’m glad it was good. You guess,” you whispered. You drew circles into his palm that lay on his lap. He looked down at you and took a deep breath.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Meh. Better now.”

Those words echoed in his mind. You wanted him here? Why did you want him here? Were you lying?

“Barry?” You broke his thought and you got off his chest. He cursed you leaving in his head but you just wanted to properly look at him. “Are you okay?” He stared into your mind and all of the sudden it hit him like a truck. Emotions. Lots of emotions. His face fell and he wrapped his arms around you tighty, not caring if you thought he was being to much. And you didn’t.

You hugged him tightly, adjusting yourself so you could hold him better.

The next morning he woke up disoriented. Unsure where he was, what he had to do. He set his head up and looked up at you. His head had been laying on your chest and you were sleeping peacefully. He must have fallen asleep on you and you just didn’t end up moving.

After a moment of wondering if he should get up, your eyes fluttered open. You looked down at him with a smile.

“Morning. You feeling better?” He took that in and nodded. He was feeling better.

“Yeah actually.”

“Good. You want breakfast?”

“You didn’t mind me...breaking down?” You shook your head and took his face in your hands. He froze.

“You needed it.” You kissed him gently and stood up to get breakfast.

It took Barry about three minutes to process that you had kissed him.

#barry berkman x reader #barry berkman imagines

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sarcasm-with-a-side-of-fries · 3 years

Text

The one that got away

Ship: Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan (past)

Description: once upon a time they where young and in love convinced they’d last forever… who knew forever had an expiration date.

Warning: Mentions of drug abuse.

Summer after high school when we first met

They met in a coffee down the street from Spencer’s

college, the college student and the cop. They both had something to prove to the world back then.

We'd make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

Derek won him over with charming smiles and smooth words, before he knew it they were stumbling into the backseat of Derek’s car.

“Mmm, Derek, someone will see!” Derek had only chuckled covering Spencer’s mouth with his own again.

And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

Young dumb and stupid they had gotten tattoos the day Spencer turned twenty, “навсегда мой” Russian for “forever mine” on their ankles. If only they’d known how untrue that would turn out to be.

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Fran Morgan adored Spencer enough to turn a blind eye when she saw him and Derek climb up the fire escape. “Someday I’m gonna marry you.” Derek promised.

“It’s not legal.” Spencer had whispered back.

“Yet.” Was all Derek replied with taking a swing from a whiskey bottle stolen out of the kitchen.

Never planned that one day I'd be losing you

The day they broke was the worst day of Spencer’s life, a fact that would never change.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Derek had snapped waving his hands wildly.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer whispered. “I love you.”

“Love just isn’t enough this time Spencer.”

Derek was gone the next day. Bomb squad had offered him a position in Virginia.

In another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

Spencer wonders what would’ve happened if he had gone with Derek, what would’ve happened… he doesn’t know.

He imagines they’d someday get married, even if it never turned legal… some people did spiritual things and exchanged rings. Derek would’ve liked that.

In another life it would be them against the world. In this life they’re alone. That’s okay. It has to be.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

In another universe twenty one year old Spencer had all the words needed to make Derek stay.

In this universe… he didn’t. He never did.

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other, we made a pact

Sometimes when I miss you I put those records on (whoa)

When they’d been young, they had made one promise that was impossible to keep in the end.

“You and me, against the world, as a team, forever.” Derek was a little drunk at the time Spencer will admit.

“Forever doesnt exist.”

“I’ll prove you wrong on that one pretty boy.”

There’s only one time in Spencer’s life that he wished to be wrong and he wasn’t.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

The first time he sees Derek again (which is weird because he didn’t think he would ever see Derek again) he notices a couple things.

His hair is much shorter than it was when they were young, he’s a little bulkier, his smile is fake- it’s the one he used to use when sweet talking their way out of danger, the one that stings the most though is that his tattoo is gone. Spencer vows to never let Derek see that he kept his.

Saw you downtown singing the blues

It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse

They’re rather awkward around each other but the team assumes that it’s just another quirk of Spencer’s, no one reads between the lines something they can both be grateful for.

He pretends that his heart doesn’t ache when Derek leaves bars with others, he doesn’t have a right to be in pain. It’s been two years and… it was all his fault in the end.

But in another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

Working with Derek is hard- it hurts. It makes him wonder, drags old feelings he doesn’t want up.

Working now with Derek and the FBI tells him something he didn’t know when he was younger, it tells him that if he went with Derek they would’ve made it. He’d always have ended up at the FBI he thinks… it’s just how that’s the question.

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

The one

The one that got away

Jayjay is the only one who ever notices… the only one who ever gets to know. “What happened between you and him?”

“I didn’t meet Derek Morgan for the first time when I walked through those doors.” The words are quiet, a secret whispered into the night. “He’s the one who got away as you would say.”

“I didn’t know…”

“No one does.”

“Did Gideon?”

“I don’t know. If he did he never said anything about it to me.”

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

When he falls victim to addiction… it’s so hard to stop taking the drug.

He does, eventually. When he realises that being hitch isn’t a time machine… it can’t change the past but it could destroy his future.

I should've told you what you meant to me (whoa)

'Cause now I pay the price

When he’s locked in that room with the Anthrax he almost tells Derek that he still loves him. He almost apologizes.

He can see that Derek still cares- he knows that his death would destroy his long lost lover. In the end he stays quiet… but tells Penelope if he dies to let Derek have his journals from college. She’s confused by the request but promises nonetheless.

In another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life he wouldn’t be too cowardly to tell Derek everything… in another life he might fix it. He might try to make it alright.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

The one (the one)

They never talk about it. It’s never brought up. It’s a history they don’t speak of… they can’t. Speaking of it makes it real… makes the past the past…

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

In another life they live happily ever after,

In this one they live as once upon a time lovers,

Best friends who used to be more.

That’s enough. It has to be.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #Moreid #angst #pain #hurt no comfort #I wrote angst #song fic

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babyen-ami · 3 years

Text

Smile

Lee Heeseung/reader | childhood best friends to lovers | fluff & angst.

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: depictions of violence, minor character death, alcohol abuse, ideas of self-harm and worthlessness, running away from problems.

Synopsis: Heeseung has always been your best friend. the person that has always supported you through thick and thin. the person with the most beautiful smile, that could light up your whole life. how could you not fall for him?

Notes: This is also published on AO3 under hapenguin. hope you like it!

The first memory you had of Heeseung was when You were 4 years old. It was an amazingly simple memory, only him smiling at you, with a big, beautiful smile that Made his eyes crease. It was a bright, sunny day. Hence why you were outside playing. You had been chasing him around the garden when he stopped abruptly making you stumble into him and land on top of him. You held out your hand to prevent any injuries, but that only made the situation first because you put all the weight of the fall on your hand that encountered a branch and fresh blood sprung out. Heeseung looked at you with a sheepish smile while you cried your eyes out. He kept repeating how sorry he was and even through your tears you were able to give him a small smile and tell him it was all forgiven. That was enough for the little boy because he was suddenly offering you the most beautiful and grand smile in the world while he held your other hand. His smile distracted you, it calmed you down. and just like that, tears that had been flowing freely came to a sudden halt. He always had a way of calming you. He was the person that kept you grounded even when you were only 4 years old. And His smiles would always be the reason for your smiles. That specific memory was your favorite image in the world.

When You were fourteen your mother died and even though Heeseung's smile made you feel a bit better at the funeral, it could not make up for what you would have to live from there on out. after that, your father had never been the same. At that age you had to start doing whatever work you could only to pay for the bills, so your drunk of a father could keep up with his habits.

After two weeks of you working your ass off and not being able to hang out with Heeseung, he found out. He had walked to your house only to find your dad passed out on the sofa surrounded by bottles of whiskey. Heeseung waited for you to come home on your porch. You finally made it by nine and the moment he looked at you, you saw in his eyes that he knew everything. "How long?" He asked softly. You grimaced but answered, nonetheless. "He's been drinking since my mom died but I've only been working a few weeks."

He did not say a word after that, only stood up and hugged you. Nobody had hugged you since the funeral, and it was like your mind came to accept the reality all at once. Tears started to slip from your eyes, and you murmured "I'm exhausted."

Two years later, you and Heeseung were a well-oiled machine. He was your rock, the person you could always trust and lean on. While you worked 2 part-time jobs and got home to make dinner for your father, he helped by doing your homework and making sure your father didn't kill himself or break something when he got home smelling like alcohol and drugs. You loved your dad, but you also knew that you shouldn't be forced to deal with all of this. You were only 16 for crying out loud. You also loved Heeseung. He had always been a pretty boy in your eyes. even when you were 6 years old and "boys had cooties" you thought that he was pretty and that his smile could light every aspect of your being. But now... You had no words to explain what he meant to you. Sometimes you would get home and he would be there having tucked your dad into bed and waiting for you with a bowl of ramen. In those moments, the only thing that could cross your mind was how beautiful he was, and how thankful you were for having him, and how much you wanted to kiss him. And then he would follow you to bed and he would smile at you and everything would feel better, all your worries dissipated just by looking at his beautiful smile. Then, he would wait until you fell asleep because he knew that if he left before you fell asleep you would stay up all night worried about a hundred different things. And he would sing for you, and each time that he did, you fought to stay awake wanting to hear his voice forever.

It was the first Saturday you had off in weeks and you woke up early deciding that for one day, you would just forget all of it. You walked to Heeseung's house and were received by his mom. She welcomed you with a big smile and a hug and you asked her if you could go wake up Heeseung. She nodded. "But before you go up, could I talk with you?" She asked. "Oh yeah of course"

She led you into the kitchen and offered you coffee which you gladly accepted. "Heeseung has been getting home very late" she started. "Oh, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry" you said hurriedly. "Oh, no honey don't worry I'm not mad. I talked with him 3 days ago and he explained the situation." Your eyes widened and your gut tightened. You wanted to run back to your house. "H-he told you?" You stammered. "Don't worry and please don't be mad at him. I want to help." "You want to help?" You repeated. "Are you going to repeat everything I say?" She said with a smile. "You are always welcome here, and you can ask me for whatever you need," she added. "That's extremely kind of you. Thank you so much" you said quickly because you could feel the heaviness of tears at the bottom of your throat. "You are like a daughter to me so don't even worry about it, now go wake Heeseung up," she said patting your leg in a motherly fashion.

You landed beside Heeseung's body that was currently sprawled on the bed and he grunted. "Wake up," you said in a sing-song tone. He mumbled something like go away but you kept on insisting until he grabbed you by the waist and tugged you so you were lying beside him and then he did something that made your heartbeat so fast you were scared you would have a heart attack. He held you against him. "No, no Heeseung" you whined "it's my only day off and I am not spending it trying to wake you up" you added. He grunted but let you go. He then proceeded to rub his eyes, sit up and smile the sleepiest smile he could muster.

It was 3 in the afternoon and you were laying on the grass of the park near your house. Heeseung was beside you leaning against a tree. Heeseung had been talking about BigHit entertainment, which was a big company right now in the kpop industry thanks to BTS. Heeseung has always adored music. Even when you were he would always be singing and dancing. It was something he was truly passionate about and you could see it in his eyes every time the topic was brought up. "I mean it's just an idea, they're holding auditions, and well..." He was saying nervously as he looked at your blank face. The words in question brought you out of your reverie. "You should totally do it," you said, frankly. "But that means I would have to move to Seoul and it's..." He trailed off. "First make sure you pass the audition. Seungie let's take this one step at a time." You were sure he would pass the audition. He was incredibly talented, and any company would be lucky to have him. You had to tell him to chase his dreams no matter how much it hurt you to see him leave. "Yeah, you're right. Wait! Did you just call me Seungie?" He asked and you just smiled sheepishly at him. "You haven't called me that since we were like ten," he said with a smile.

The auditions passed and the results came. Of course, Heeseung had made it, he was incredibly talented. He came running all the way to your house to tell you that he had passed, only to find you picking up pieces of glass that were scattered all over the living room. "What happened?" He asked forgetting all about the audition. "He hadn't been home in a couple of days and when he got here, I told him that he couldn't just disappear and that I was worried. He started fighting with me and threw the bottle of whiskey against the wall" you answered and carried on with picking up the pieces of the bottle. Heeseung knew it wasn't the best time to tell you, but he had to. "I got in. I'm gonna be a trainee for BigHit" he said quietly. The statement caught you so off base that a piece of glass slipped from your hands and in your reflex to catch it, you cut your hand. "Ow!" You gasped.

You were both in the bathroom. You were sitting on the edge of the sink while he tended to your cut. "I'm not gonna go to Seoul," he said. "What, why not?" You asked immediately. "I can't leave you..." He almost whispered. But you heard him loud and clear. "Don't worry about me. I mean, of course, having your help has been a gift, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I stopped you from following your dream" you said firmly "I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself. Plus, I'm not alone, I have your mom" you added looking him in the eyes. He had just finished putting a band-aid over the cut and his fingers moved up to grab your wrist and pull you down from the sink, while he kept on looking into your eyes. You had always been short. But right now, looking in his eyes, you had to tilt your chin up to be able to do it. He leaned his head down and all the alarms in your mind started going off like crazy. Was he going to kiss you? he was looking at you so heavily and his eyes would drift quickly to your lips and then back up to your eyes. This was it; you were finally going to kiss Heeseung. But before anything else could happen you heard your father yell your name making the both of you jump apart.

The chatter of passenger's surrounded you while you walked next to Heeseung and his family to the gate of the train in which your best friend would be going off to achieve his dream. Your mind was cluttered, and your heartfelt heavy with all of the emotions you were feeling. You were unbelievably proud of him and sure that he would prove just how talented he was. But at the same time, you couldn't help but think about how hard it was going to be without him. Not only were you going to miss him helping you out with all your problems, but you were also going to miss him as your best friend.

After the almost-kiss-incident in the bathroom the other day, you had decided that you were gonna kiss him goodbye today. You couldn’t live with yourself if he left without knowing how you felt for him. plus, you were a hundred percent sure that he would debut, and he would become famous, so you were also a hundred percent sure that you would probably not be seeing much of Heeseung again. It was now or never.

He suddenly stopped and you crashed lightly into him. You were in front of his gate. Heeseung said his goodbyes to his family and his mother started crying softly, so he hugged her again and whispered soothing words in her ear. He then turned to you. There were already unshed tears filling your eyes and he grimaced, grabbing your hand. He hugged you and whispered in your ear "what if I don't leave?" when he said those words, you felt a chill run through you. What if you kissed him and that just increases his desire to not leave? It was only a what-if, but you couldn’t risk making that what if come true. So, you refrained from kissing him.

You pushed him lightly so you could look into his eyes. "If you don't leave, I'm gonna drag you there by your ear," you said sternly. "But... I'm going to miss you" he said sheepishly. "And I'm going to miss you, but we'll talk every chance we get," you said but he still looked torn on whether to get on the waiting train or not. "I'm gonna be fine," you said and shoved him subtly in the direction of the train "go," you told him softly, but he didn't move. He just kept looking at you. So, you shoved him harder "go," you said louder this time. He gave you one last glance and then turned around to get on the train.

It was difficult talking with Heeseung, he was always rehearsing or extremely tired, and you were always working or taking care of your father. But even though it was hard, your chat could show just how much you told each other about your day-to-day. He would talk to you about the song he was currently practicing, and you would tell him about the weird customer that came into the restaurant that day.

two whole years passed this way. dying to see each other but never really having the time or energy. You knew Heeseung called his mother at least once a week, but you were never there when he did. So that's why you considered it extremely weird to have him calling you while he knew you were at work. You chanced a glance at your boss only to see she was busy, so you answered the video call. You were met with his beautiful smiling face. You had seen many pictures that he normally sent to his mom but seeing him smiling in real-time even if it was through a screen made your heart flutter. He had gotten even more handsome if that was possible. "It's been way too long," he said "I've missed your ugly face," he added teasingly. you rolled your eyes but smiled, nonetheless. "I'm at work, can we talk later?" you whispered. "right sorry, it's just something really quick," he told you and then added, "you know the series Big hit and Belift are making to see who the next band to debut will be?" you hummed in agreement and he continued "well I got in." A huge smile made its way onto your face "Seungie that's amazing!" you all but screamed and your boss turned to look at you with a scowl. "Does your mom know? she's going to be so excited." He laughed looking at you fondly "no, you're the first person I wanted to tell" his eyes showed a certain softness that you couldn't quite pinpoint but made you feel giddy. "you're gonna do amazing," you said. "thanks" A weird silence settled over the both of you before he blurted out "I miss you" at the same time your boss grabbed your phone and hung up the call.

Once I-land was announced and the schedule was set for each Friday, you negotiated working extra hours on other days just so you could see Heeseung and feel proud of him. it was the first Friday I-land would be airing and you were currently sitting on the floor of Heeseung's house. His mother and father were both on the couch and his brother was on the individual sofa. "I can't believe my little brother is going to be in a series," His brother said, and you smiled openly proud. "shush it's starting," Mrs. Lee said patting her son's leg.

I-land was a beautiful place, and you were almost jealous of Heeseung. It was surreal seeing him on TV, and he looked so handsome. It was also funny seeing all the other boys fawn over their Hyung. You weren't even surprised when he got into I-land. He was that talented. Seeing him, looking so happy made you happy too. As it had always been, His smile made you smile too. You hadn't felt your heart so light since he had left. It was the best day you had in a while, but that only lasted until you got home. You had stayed at the Lee's household way longer than you would have stayed at work, and for that reason, you weren't home to pick your dad from the stairs and get him into bed.

When you stepped into the house, it was deadly quiet, but your father was sitting calmly in the living room. When he saw you walk in, he spoke. "Where have you been?" "At Heeseung's house," you said. You didn't understand, he didn't seem drunk, but you still couldn't remember the last time he had not been drunk. "Oh, so while you whore around I have to starve to death?" He asked hotly. you walked closer to your father and sniffed him. He reeked of alcohol. "and here I was thinking you could actually be sober" you murmured walking over to the kitchen to make him some dinner.

When you walked to the living room with a hot plate of food, you found your dad sprawled out drinking directly from a bottle. You grabbed his wrist and took the bottle away from him. "no, if I'm going to make you dinner and keep on looking after you, you have to at least drink less!" you exclaimed filled with rage. "you're just a little bitch" he growled and pushed you, making the hot soup land on your arm. Your father grabs the bottle and leaves you to clean up.

Heeseung was sitting eating breakfast while everybody talked cheerfully. "What's wrong Heeseung Hyung?" Jungwon asked and almost everyone turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" "Well, you seem kind of quiet" Geonu chirped. "It's just because I miss my family, I wish I could call them" Heeseung answered simply. "But that's not it," K Hyung said "I mean, we all miss our family" he added looking firmly at Heeseung. "There's a girl!" K exclaimed after a while. It was as if all hell had broken loose. "Tell us about her" somebody yelled and Heeseung felt himself blush. "No, no there's no girl”. "Then why are you blushing?" K asked. Heeseung groaned loudly and said, "her name is y/n, she's my best friend and she has no idea that I like her."

It was the Fourth Friday the show had been airing, and you were currently sprawled on the couch in the Lee's living room. You had now learned to leave food on the table for your dad, and to hide every alcohol bottle in the house. But it seemed you hadn't hidden them well enough because when you walked into your house you found your dad sitting on the living room floor drunk out of his mind and crying over a picture of your mom. All the lights in the house were off and the only light was in the form of a candle surrounding your father. you went to turn on some lights but even if you moved the switch, it wouldn’t turn on. You had forgotten to pay the electric bill. You walked clutching the wall all the way to the bathroom and looked under the loose floorboard where you kept the emergency money. It would all be fine. You would go first thing tomorrow and pay the bill. Except it wasn’t going to be okay. There was no money.

“Dad… did you take the money?” you asked. “yeah! bought some whiskey” he murmured happily and that was your limit for today. You felt tears slip down your cheeks as you ran all the way to the familiar door. The door where Heeseung had always waited for you with open arms. The only difference was that this time, the door opened to reveal a Lee that wasn’t the Lee you wanted. But you still let him envelop you in his open arms…

The next day you sold your phone to be able to pay for the electricity bill, and also save up a little bit. A month ago, the idea of selling your cell phone was completely out of the picture, because it was the only thing that kept you connected to Heeseung. But now… he was busy, and would probably be busy from here on, so you wouldn’t need to keep in contact with him.

Once Heeseung got hold of his phone again, the first person he called, to tell that he had made it to the second part of I-land, was you. But you didn’t answer, all he heard was a beep and a mechanical voice informing him the line had been disconnected. He felt himself grow worried immediately. He called his mom. She answered after two rings. “I got into the second part of the show,” he said almost breathlessly, and his mom screamed in joy. “I knew you would make it; you are so talented. my boy,” she said happily and they both spoke for a while before Heeseung asked. “What happened to y/n’s phone?” “she sold it” was his mother’s short answer “she is probably coming by later if you want to talk to her” she added. “Yeah, I’ll call later,” he said. But he didn’t call. It felt weird not knowing everything that was going on in his best friend’s life. Was this how it was going to be from now on? he hated to think that way, but it seemed as if you didn’t need him anymore.

The second part of I-land started and although you wanted to support Heeseung so badly, you just couldn’t because you were working extra shifts, saving up money, finding ways to stop your father from drinking, and trying to hold yourself up by putting together the pieces of your heart with tape. You had been sleeping at Heeseung’s family house to avoid interactions with your father, but you needed to get some clothes and things from the house. You gathered your courage and opened the door to the house and stepped inside. The house was completely quiet and the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

your father was passed out drunk in the middle of the living room. You swore loudly and dropped to the floor beside him to take his pulse. his heart was beating as strong as ever. You knew the best option was to take him to the emergency room, but you didn’t have a car, you didn’t have the money and you didn’t have the will to answer all the questions that were bound to be thrown your way in the hospital. So, gathering all your strength, you dragged your dad to the couch and then proceeded to tuck him in comfortably with a blanket. You decided to take his pulse every few minutes to make sure everything was okay; you also grabbed a bucket to put beside his face for when he started throwing up.

After about an hour you were starting to get extremely worried. tears were streaming down your face and your heart filled with so many emotions you couldn’t understand anything. You were angry at him because he was supposed to be your father, he should be taking care of you, making you happy, but here he was making you grow up before you had to. It wasn’t fair that you had to live through all of this. You were sad and worried because you didn’t want anything to happen to him. Yes, he was horrible with you, and most of the time you hated him, but he was still your father. You were also angry at yourself for feeling sorry for the person who had made your life miserable. Your dad suddenly grunted and stirred on the couch. You felt like oxygen could finally enter your lungs.

You had already grabbed everything you needed and put it into a backpack. Seeing as you had nothing else to do while he woke up, you let anger overtake you. Angry tears streamed down your face as you raided the house looking for every bottle of alcohol you could find. gathering everything in the kitchen, you started opening them and emptying them in the sink not caring about how much noise you were making, and that was your mistake. You were down to the last bottle when you heard a loud cry behind you, and a pair of hands grabbed you, flinging you to the other side of the kitchen.

Your cheek impacted against the oven and you felt something hot trickle down and mingle with your tears. “WHAT DID YOU DO!?” your father asked, and you looked at him blabbering like a fish out of the water “since you decided to be a bitch, give me money to buy more” he added firmly, and although you were shaking with all your might, you said “no” “What did you say?” he said, approaching you and you scrambled to your feet. “I said no!” you screamed “I deserve a father, not this poor attempt you’ve been giving me. You always talk about how YOU lost her, how YOU miss her, how YOU don’t know how to live without her. But let me tell you that I LOST HER TOO!” you continued “and not only did I lose her, but I also lost you too” you finished only to feel a hard slap against your bleeding cheek.

You could see so much anger in his eyes, you immediately started backing up until your back hit the wall. He walked to you and clasped his hand around your throat. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her” he said through clenched teeth. You were trying but failing miserably at getting air in your system and he seemed to notice you were becoming purple because he let go. You dropped to the ground panting wildly trying to compose your erratic breathing and he kicked you. You grunted in pain. “leave and don’t ever come back,” he said “I don’t even want to see you in this town. If you stay here I’ll know where to find you and not only will I hurt you, but I will also hurt your precious boyfriend’s family” He finished menacingly and you ran grabbing the backpack on your way out. It was already getting dark, so you knew you would have to wait until tomorrow to be able to do something. You decided to go to the people that had treated you better than your own family.

Mrs. Lee heard a knock on the door and went to open it, knowing she would find y/n on the other side. But what she couldn’t have known was that she would find y/n crying, with blood all over her face and the beginning of bruises on her neck. “God! what happened?” she asked worriedly ushering you in. you could barely talk, but in between your sobs, you managed to choke out “my dad” and Mrs. Lee didn’t need any more information to understand what had happened.

Heeseung had no way of knowing that while he was celebrating having obtained second place in the test for that week, you were having the worst day of your life. His prize for obtaining second place was the right to make one phone call. He immediately thought of you, but then remembered you didn’t have a phone anymore. He settled with calling his brother who answered on the fifth ring. “Hello?” “Hyung” Heeseung greeted happily.

You were standing in the kitchen with Heeseung’s brother talking about what had happened when his phone rang. After picking it up a giant smile spread on his face. “Heeseung-ah!” he exclaimed, “what’s going on?” you could hear Heeseung’s giggles through the phone, so when his brother looked at you asking for permission to tell him what had happened, you softly shook your head.

Heeseung laughed loudly as his brother made fun of him and told him that Jay was more handsome than him. He then spoke with his mom, who gave him encouraging words and told him how much she missed and loved him. All this while he knew the cameras were on him, but to speak with the person he wanted to speak to, he wanted to be truly alone. So, he headed to the bathroom. “Mom is y/n there?” he asked softly before his mother could hang up.

what Heeseung didn’t know was that he was on speaker mode and you had heard everything. you nodded softly at Heeseung’s mom and she handed you the phone. “hi” you breathed and Heeseung felt as if his heart wanted to leave his body and find yours. “I’ve missed you,” he said, and you told him that you had also missed him. “I know you probably don’t have much time so I’ll be quick” you started “you are doing amazing on the show and I know for sure that you will debut, and you will be a great idol, and you will help thousands of people to be better just like you did with me.” “Why are you speaking like this?” he asked. “let me finish,” you said, and he kept quiet so you continued “just promise me you won’t forget who you are, and whenever you feel like you can’t, remember all the times you helped me achieve something and believe I am right there with you helping you achieve it” you exhaled and he whispered, “I promise.” “Seungie” you also whispered. “yeah?” “I like you, as more than a friend. I have for a while now” you told him “and don’t say anything, go win the competition and then we’ll talk.” you said your goodbyes and you both stared at the phone similarly, except that the emotions for both of you were completely different.

He was looking at the phone with the biggest smile he could muster. He was genuinely happy. You liked him and he liked you. And once he got to debut and everything, he would help you leave your father’s house, and you would both be happy. He couldn’t wait for what tomorrow would bring. You were looking at the phone while tears dripped down your face, knowing that that was the last time you would speak to him because the next day you would be leaving and not looking back. You dreaded what tomorrow would bring.

Heeseung was picked through the global vote, to debut as a member of Enhypen. Once he was backstage getting ready for a photoshoot after the results had been announced, Heeseung called his mom. He was begging that you were there with her. "Mom!" He said happily. "Honey we just saw it all live. We are so proud of you" she said and after a couple of questions from her, Heeseung was finally able to ask the question that he had been dying to ask since his mom had picked up. "Is y/n there?" he asked. “Heeseung… Uhm...she left.” “oh, isn’t it late for her to be working?” “No Heeseung-ah, things hadn’t been great between y/n and her father, she was basically living here. The day you called, she had gone home to get some things and she came back beaten black and blue. He almost killed her. You called but she didn’t want to worry or distract you with her problems, we didn’t think much of it because we assumed, she would eventually tell you everything. But the next day, we woke up and she was gone with all her things, and we haven’t heard anything from her… that was weeks ago” His mom said. A heavy silence settled between them. “Are you okay honey?” his mother asked worriedly. “I-I am mom… C-can I call you lat-ter?” he stuttered quickly into the phone and before she could give an affirmative, he was already hanging up.

Heeseung thought he was gonna be sick. Fuck, fuck you were gone, and he had no idea what to do to find you. He couldn’t call you; you had no phone. He couldn’t ask your father… because well he was a bastard. They couldn’t report you as a missing person because you were an adult, and they weren’t your family. He felt the beginning of a panic attack. He couldn’t breathe knowing that he might never see you again, never hug you again, he would never be able to kiss you, and that hurt. Jungwon noticed his Hyung was looking pale and having trouble breathing on the car ride to their new dorm. “are you okay?” he asked but Heeseung was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to hear him. all the boys looked at Heeseung waiting for his answer, but nothing came. Sunoo shoved his elder lightly and Heeseung snapped out of it looking at them with an almost scared look on his face. The other boys were worried, but they also knew that they were being recorded for “Enhypen & Hi” so when Heeseung said he would tell them later, they all agreed quietly. Once they were all in the comfort of their own beds and the cameras had been turned off, Heeseung told them everything. From the death of your mother, his feelings for you, your feelings for him, your abusive father, and the fact you had run away, and he would never see you again. None of the boys knew what to say. They understood why you had run away, but they could also see how much it was hurting their Hyung. They couldn’t do much more than telling Heeseung that everything would be fine, even when they had no idea if that was true.

Heeseung debuted. Of course, he debuted. He was talented, kind-hearted, and drop-dead gorgeous. You felt proud.

But you also felt broken...

You were currently working cleaning tables and washing dishes in a run-down restaurant. The pay wasn’t the best, but it was what you could get. It kept you alive, fed... with a roof over your head, but most importantly safe and away from your dad. You missed the Lee’s, missed Heeseung’s mom’s delightful cooking and their warm house. You missed their stories and their affection. But most of all you missed Heeseung. And seeing him on tv doing interviews, talking about his inspirations, and looking the happiest you had ever seen him, or on billboards looking fantastic modeling some new item of clothing or announcing some brand, was a bittersweet pill. It was bitter because you were selfish. And you wanted to be with him, you wanted his beautiful smiles to be only for you like they always had been. You were also jealous of the girls who now got to hear him sing, and you wished that things were different. But they weren’t different and there was nothing you could do about it. But it was sweet because you loved him, and he was happy. He had achieved his goals and the band had now been going for two years strong. He was a fan favorite, he had money, he was surrounded by friends, and still had a good relationship with his family. And at the end of the day, you really couldn’t ask for more. If he was happy, so were you.

It had been almost four years since you had run away. You were sharing an apartment in a neighborhood where you finally didn’t have to worry about somebody breaking and entering in the middle of the night. Your roommate was your co-worker at one of the finest restaurants in Seoul. You were a waitress, and the pay was good. you finally felt financially and emotionally stable. Your life finally felt okay. Of course, you still missed Heeseung, he was the love of your life. But you didn’t think about him as often. You knew he was still a part of Enhypen because you saw him in ads and interviews, but you didn’t try to know much about him because it didn’t do you any good to still be pining after him. You had to move on.

The two maknaes had been yapping Heeseung’s ears off for about a week, constantly talking about the new hip restaurant in Seoul and how they were really dying to go try it. He wasn’t surprised when their manager told them that everything had been arranged and they would be going to dinner at that restaurant. supposedly, the restaurant had really good food and a very hip theme, but he really hadn’t paid much attention to what Sunoo had been saying.

you arrived for your shift at the restaurant and your boss Mina called you to the side before you could start. “Y/n-shi, I just wanted to ask if you could handle a couple of VIP customers that are coming at seven,” she said. “Uhm yeah of course” “Great, the hostess will guide them to their separate table and tell you so you can serve them. Is that alright?” Mina asked. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, and she reminded you to be on your best behavior before leaving you to work.

The hostess guided them to a separate room with a courteous smile and Heeseung sat in between jake and jay. They were handed menus and told their waitress would be with them in a bit. The boys were talking loudly while Heeseung had his head stuck in the menu reading over what he wanted to eat.

The hostess of the restaurant told you that the VIP customers were waiting at their private table, so you started walking there while you redid your high ponytail. once you got to the table you cleared your throat and grabbed your notepad and your pen. “Hello, my name is y/n and I will be your server tonight,” you said without looking up. And you did not look up until you heard an interested sound. In front of you were the boys from Enhypen and a very pale-looking Heeseung.

“Oh! you have the same name as the girl Hyung used to love” The one you recognized as Niki said looking at Heeseung and then back at you. Niki noticed you were both looking at each other with your eyes wide open and pale in the face and immediately shut up. Heeseung was here. sitting right in front of you. He looked so grown up, and so handsome. seeing him there made you want to just go up to him and hug him. “it’s really you?” Heeseung said almost in a whisper “I’m not dreaming?” he added and that snapped you out of your thoughts. “I-can get-t someone else to waiter you if-f it’s too uncomfortable” you rushed out tripping over your words. You turned hastily around ready to bolt out of the room before you had to face further embarrassment. “wait!” a voice called, but it wasn’t Heeseung’s. You turned back to them “you’re really Heeseung’s y/n?” Jungwon added. your heart fluttered wildly at the thought of being Heeseung’s. You were lost for words, so you nodded softly playing with your hands. Jay suddenly spoke up “uhm… let’s all go to the bathroom,” he said awkwardly shoving all of the members in the direction of the bathroom so you and Heeseung could talk in private.

Heeseung could feel his hands sweating. He no longer knew how to talk to you, or at least he didn’t know how to start this conversation. “I missed you” he suddenly blurted out and saw how your cheeks filled with color. “I missed you too,” you said, and he felt his heart start to thump at a crazy pace. During the last few years, he had told his members many times that he was over you, but that just wasn’t true. He decided to stand up because it felt weird having this conversation when you were both in different levels of height. “Why didn’t you tell me about what happened with your dad?” he asked, “or why didn’t you stay and let my family help you?” he added. “he threatened me, that if I stayed, he would not only harm me but also your family and I...” you let silence overtake the room while you put your ideas in order. “I just couldn’t let that happen.” Your eyes showed so much emotion that he took a step closer and you took a shaky intake of breath. “And I didn’t tell you because you would’ve wanted to help, but I couldn’t ask for your help when you were that close to achieving your dreams,” you said looking at the wall on your left. Heeseung suddenly invaded your personal space and engulfed you in a hug. you were frozen to the spot for a couple of seconds, but then you hugged him back. “I am so glad you are okay. I was so worried” he whispered into the hug and you felt tears start to sting at your eyes. “You told me the night I called you that you liked me, do you still like me?” he asked, and you gave a shy nod. His eyes lit up and he grabbed your chin. “That night, you also told me not to say anything until I debuted, and I finally debuted. So here it is I love you, I have for a while now” he said and let his hand engulf your cheek while his lips came onto yours in a kiss.

#enhypen #enhypen fic #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #engene #kpop #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

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Being Best Friends with Klaus Hargreeves Would Include...

Anonymous said: Hey, not sure if you've done anything similar to this before but could I request 'Being best friends with Klaus Hargreeves would include...' I love your blog, thank you! x

I’m baaaaaaack (at least for a bit!)! Enjoy and cut me some slack as it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction; especially TUA fanfic!

It’s not entirely his own fault but Klaus is not the greatest influence.

So if you have a rather cautious personality, be prepared to do things far outside of your comfort zone.

If you’re more attuned to Klaus’ chaos, be prepared to get on the wildest ride of your life and probably definitely get into trouble.

If chaos is your thing you might become more cautious around Klaus! Who knows!

Either way you lean, you’re going to get used to the turbulence that comes with Klaus.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so close to begin with.

When he was younger, Klaus was rebellious to combat the structure of his Father’s schedules and training regimes.

Sadly, he could never really rebel enough to free himself entirely.

Aside from his brothers and sisters, Klaus didn’t have friends.

So, when he met you, he dived in head first; all the good, bad, and the ugly.

It was after what Klaus remembers/believes was his first big bender when he found himself in a coffee shop, studying the menu with glossy eyes.

It was one of your first jobs, working as a barista/baker.

Klaus was wearing a long, faux fur line jacket, a pink crop top, and jorts (jean shorts).

Because of his piece-meal outfit, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

That and he was holding up the line as he debated what he had the munchies for.

“What would you get…”

“What?” You raised your brows at him, surprised he finally spoke up.

“What would you get if you had stayed up for three days straight, wine tasti-wine hoarding really, and raving in the best clubs of the city?”

“An aspirin and a chai latte probably.”

“Ah! Yes! A chai latte sounds ammaazing right now. Maybe a cookie too.”

“Snickerdoodle?”

“It’s like you can read my mind! Wait, can you? At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

After he got his cookie and his chai latte, the strangely dressed man made himself comfortable in the coffee shop.

After a few hours, Klaus was what your manager considered loitering.

Hell, after the last few hours of your shift and Klaus still lingered, your manager offered to walk you to your car.

“I think he’s just…”

You looked over and saw him, Klaus, idly twirling a pair of sunglasses between his fingers.

“...he’s just lost.”

When you had gathered your things and cleaned up after your shift, you wandered over to where he sat.

It took a moment before he took notice of you but when he did, he stood up quickly.

“Hey you,” he said in a rushed breath (somehow it still sounded flirtatious).

“Hey, uh, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh! What a lovely name!”

He extended his hand to you and you finally saw the tattoos on his palm.

“I’m Klaus, my dear. Care for an adventure?”

That first ‘adventure’ was one that you would remember forever.

Klaus took you to his favorite second-hand shop and you thrifted horrendous articles of clothing.

You still have an incredibly chunky, cable-knit sweater from that day; when you miss Klaus, you wear it.

Klaus bought two wigs, decent wigs, with what money he had.

Outside, Klaus turned to you and grinned.

“Put this on, will you?”

“Pink isn’t re-”

He was already tugging the wig over your head.

“Pink is so your color, trust me,” he gestured to himself, “I know style.”

When he donned the other, curly haired, wig, Klaus led you to an array of establishments with less than welcoming atmospheres where you ‘borrowed’ some merchandise.

Klaus has not mercy for racist or homophobic stores/companies and ‘borrows’ from them often.

Klaus nearly got caught, he lost his wig in the fray.

You had never felt more alive.

You had never smiled wider.

It was thrilling; he was thrilling.

But he wasn’t thrilling all the time.

After that day, you and Klaus were attached to the hip and you learned there were other parts to him outside of the bubbling, endearing chaos.

His addictions became startlingly apparent.

During his many sleep overs, he would search through your cabinets, your fridge, any other place he could think of, for booze.

“Klaus?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hunting for our dinner, what’s it look like.”

You set a limit on the number of drink he was allowed to have when he stayed over at your place (which was quite often).

You didn’t want him to suffer but you didn’t want him black-out drunk, or high either.

Overall, you tried to rein in his drug use; for his own sake.

When he isn’t wasted, Klaus tries to keep himself busy in other ways.

This meant a lot more ‘adventures’ for the two of you.

Small trips to cultural grocery stores to try different foods

Thrift shopping; because Klaus is always looking to add to this wardrobe.

You draw the line at dumpster diving.

“You’re missing out, Y/N! When I lived in LA for a week, this is how I survived.”

“You lived in LA?”

“For a time. Lots of bikinis...roller skates too.”

Other times you and Klaus would just walk around the city talking.

The two of you would create fantasy lives for the people you passed by, giving them wild powers like Klaus and his siblings.

Sometimes you would listen to Klaus talk about his siblings.

Your favorite stories to listen to were about Ben.

“After that, pigeons never seemed to land on the roof. Too scared I think. Ben and I did too good of a job.”

“Sounds like he was an amazing guy.”

“Yeah, he was. He likes y- I, he would have liked you.”

You tell him about your family, about your own struggles.

Through this sharing, this walks and talks, you both grow closer.

These winding walks often end at Griddy’s diner.

“Slap me on the ass and call me Bessy, I forgot how good strawberry donuts are!”

When you return back home, your place, but Klaus calls it home, you settle in.

Klaus will braid his hair, offer to try to braid yours.

“Please, it keeps me busy.”

“What would you do without me?”

“Die of boredom, or just die, probably.”

If you both have a night cap drink before bed, you guys might dance.

Klaus tries to teach you a few moves before giving up.

“Just feel the music, my dear, feel it.”

Eventually, you both collapse and cuddle for a bit.

Klaus is a big fan of platonic cuddling so prepare for that.

Movie nights!

Due to his ‘training’ and his powers, Klaus tends to stay away from horror films so get ready for rom-coms and cheesy action movies.

“Have you ever wanted to do that?”

Klaus has a habit of asking questions during the movie; none of which are crucial to the plot of said movie.

“What?”

“If we got a boat, would you do the whole ‘I’m king of the world’ bit?”

“I mean, why wouldn’t I do it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

There are nights when you can hear him whimpering from the couch where he sleeps.

Those nights, you creep out of your room and wake him up.

“Bad dream?”

Klaus never responds to the question, ever.

Instead, he curls up next to your and you play with his hair until he falls asleep again.

The next morning, over coffee, you try to get him to talk about it.

Sometimes he does, other times he distracts from the topic.

Either way, you hug him.

“I’m here for you, Klaus.”

“I’m here for you too. Otherwise, I’m homeless.”

He is always trying to set you up with people.

You’ll be working at the coffee shop and he’ll come up and pretend to buy something just to tell you: “table in the far corner. They’ve been glancing your way a lot.”

“Klaus….they’re waiting for their order.”

“Oh. Well, you never know.”

That always leaves you smiling.

It’s hard not to be happy with Klaus as your best friend.

Even when he’s down or you’re down, the two of you together seem to lift one another up.

Being Klaus’ friend means having fun and feeling, feeling so much.

You feel his past pain, his struggle, his grief, in the same turn you feel his joy, his wonder, and his spark for good.

And in that, you inspire each other to do and be better.

#whatcha think?#I haven't written in a while so I'm sorry if it's rough!#klaus hargreeves #being best friends with klaus hargreeves would include #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua #tua imagine #tua imagines #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy season 2

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Growing Pains

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes (very generic OC — no detail used aside from the pronouns she/her) rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, non-con/dub-con elements breeding, somnophilia, drugging, kidnapping, yandere style prompts: “See? It’s not as uncomfortable as it could be, right?” || “Look, this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.” || “This’ll make us closer, I promise. Just hold still.”

prompts requested by the lovely @o-luthien!! i hope its not too rough! i’m still happy to take prompts rn if anyone’s interested!

She'd laughed it off at first, when Steve mentioned having children. They'd been dating for just over a month-- the sporadic, Are You Busy Right This Moment sort of dating that came with being a superhero. Her job was flexible, she made her own hours most of the time anyway, so she was able to say yes about 90% of the time. He always made it worth it too, the dates somehow spontaneous and yet still well thought out with her interests in mind. They'd been to museums and aquariums, a Broadway show, and the botanical gardens when he'd brought it up at dinner one evening. It was a late night, post movie dinner at a sushi place in Manhattan. The atmosphere was lovely even in the late hour and she'd had a couple of drinks with their meal. She'd been lucky to still have her wits about her when he dropped the "we'll have beautiful kids" bomb. A quick laugh and a joke about how he shouldn't be worrying about kids in his advanced age had been enough to side step the awkward conversation.

Steve had been born a century ago, when young adults their age where usually already married with a gaggle of kids. It wasn't his fault that social ettique had changed or that it was considered extremely outlandish to mention children so early in a relationship. He probably had no idea it was so weird, after all he'd mentioned he hadn't seriously dated anyone since waking up. She'd successfully passed it off, anyway, so there was no point in dwelling on it. It didn't come up again until about 6 months later, when Steve found Bucky.

He'd admitted that his best friend had also been his lover in the past, that the tragedy of losing Bucky had literally been too much to take and had driven him into the arctic. She was okay with it, understood the taboo of their time and the secrecy they'd had to operate under. It had been, well, painful when Steve pulled back of course, but she understood why. That was his Bucky. It was something precious and worth salvaging, rebound relationship be damned.

So when Steve had shown up on her doorstep, Bucky in tow, at 4 PM on a Wednesday and asked to talk, she was anticipating a break up speech. She’d invited them in and made them coffee, trying to ignore the way Bucky looked at her. There was no deciphering the expression on his face; she couldn’t tell if he hated her for dating (and sleeping with) his boyfriend, if he felt guilty that he was stealing her chance with Steve, or if he even felt anything at all. The brunet was a closed box, spoke very few words, and watched her like a hawk the entire time.

She’d nearly dropped her coffee right into her lap when Steve had asked if she’d be okay with him dating both of them, because he loved Bucky and he was coming to love her and he just couldn’t choose. It had been easy to say yes, to tell him she didn’t mind. Steve’s happiness meant something to her, it had become important to her over the half a year they’d been dating. The three way dates had been weird at first, she hadn’t anticipated that Steve and Bucky would want her to join on their dates, but after a month or two she got used to it. She and Bucky had a lot in common, they fell into an easy and affectionate friendship while both getting banged 9 ways to Sunday by Steve. The first date she’d gone on with just Bucky had been strange but lovely and if they all ended up dating each other, what was the harm?

But then the children thing came up again. ‘The first one should be Bucky’s, he’s always wanted babies, you know?’ ‘I hope one of them is blond like Stevie, with those pretty eyes of yours.’ She continued to pass it off the best that she could, ducking and squirming out of conversations about babies. It was about the one year mark with Steve, the 6 month-ish mark with Bucky that she realized she had to reevaluate their relationship. Obviously, they wanted something different out of life than she did. They wanted a white picket fence and a whole herd of children, and that hadn’t even made it onto her list of ‘not ideal but liveable life scenarios’.

The night she planned to break up with them came upon her so much faster than she’d anticipated. It was going to hurt, on multiple levels. She really and truly loved them, but there was no way that she could continue dating them when their life goals were so incompatible. It felt like leading them on and that was cruel. So, she slipped into a casual pair of jeans and a tank top with a cardigan over top and headed to the cafe they generally spent time in if they didn’t want to truly do something for a date. Her winter gear kept her pleasantly warm even when the sun had gone down, but there was a frigid trickle down her back.

The walk wasn’t far, but the goosebumps rising over her skin gave her pause as she walked. Her hand immediately dove into her pocket, gloves slipping around her phone for a second before she managed to pull it out and unlock it. In general, she wasn’t the type to be jumpy or nervous when walking alone in the evenings, but she was the kind of girl who trusted her instincts. And her instincts told her something was wrong.

Bucky’s number was the first on the ‘most recent' screen for her contacts list and she hit dial without hesitation. When it rang out without an answer, she tried Steve’s only to receive the same results. They were most likely already at the cafe, phones on silent because their traditional ideals told them that being on their phones during a date was rude. Usually she found that cute and endearing, but tonight it meant they didn’t realize she really needed their attention.

Of course, she wasn’t in any danger. Well, in the minds of the soldiers she wasn’t in any danger. They’d never let anything happen to her. Watching from the shadows as she redialed Steve’s number, the pair smiled. She knew that they were who she needed to call in an emergency, she knew they would take care of her. When she started running down the block, Bucky stayed carefully behind her while Steve went on ahead to the cafe; there needed to be someone there to greet her when she arrived, but they also needed to make sure she arrived safely.

She had to stop herself outside of the cafe and take a deep breath, to try and calm herself before she went inside. Obviously, she’d worked herself up for no reason and the panic was sitting just underneath her rib cage, pounding along with her heart. Seeing Steve through the window was what allowed her breathing to calm; she was safe as long as Steve was just a few steps away. He stood up as soon as he saw her walk through the door, a brilliant smile on his face as always. It was difficult to force herself not to run over and throw her arms around him, to explain how frightened she’d been on the walk to the cafe. She reminded herself that she was there to break up with them.

Oh, fuck, she was there to break up with them. In the cafe they all loved so much. Was she a monster? Was wanting to break up over not wanting children stupid? Wasn’t the point of dating people to find someone (or someone’s, in her case) that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? Because she’d like to spend the rest of her life with them. But, children. They were cute from afar, babies were precious and they had that lovely smell but she didn’t want any.

“Hey beautiful,” the blond greeted when she arrived at his side, sweeping her into a gentle hug, “you look out of breath.”

“Oh, I was just walking a bit fast I guess,” she waved off the concern and glanced towards the counter with a furrowed brow, “I thought Bucky would be here already?”

“He’s in the restroom,” Steve gestured towards the hallway before helping her out of her coat, “I already got you a tea. Did you want something to eat?”

“No, no, I’m not really hungry.” In fact, her stomach felt like lead and she wanted to throw up.

Steve ushered her into the booth before sitting beside her, unintentionally trapping her in which was going to make the following conversation very uncomfortable, “are you sure baby? Did you already eat dinner? You don’t need to be skipping meals, if you lose any weight you’ll disappear on me.”

A small smile cracked her lips and she shook her head, eyes carefully scanning over Steve’s face. He was so handsome, he would make incredibly beautiful babies with whoever he chose. It just couldn’t be her, and that hurt. She was shaken out of her small daydream by Bucky sliding into the booth across from her, leaning up and over the table as he did so that the brunet could press a quick kiss to her lips.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted with a smile, nose brushing hers.

The warmth that filled her chest was tinged with grief as she sat back, “hey Buck.”

“What did you need to talk about baby?” Steve questioned once they were settled, his arm coming to rest over her shoulders.

Her lead stomach somehow grew heavier and she took a sip of her tea. Steve always knew exactly how to fix it up for her but it tasted like ash in her mouth, sticking to her tongue and coating her throat like cement. The anxiety was crushing and she hated that it would ruin the last cup of tea Steve ever made her.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” The blond pressed, a frown coming over his face as he shifted closer.

“I… I’ve been thinking, uhm, a lot recently,” she murmured, eyes focused on the cup in her hands.

“Okay…” Bucky prompted gently when she didn’t continue and she found herself taking a giant sip of tea to put off having to answer for just a moment— it was going to hurt.

“You guys… you guys deserve everything you’ve ever wanted, you know? You’ve gone through so much and you do so much for other people…” she took another sip of tea, finger nails clicking against the ceramic, “I know that you want kids. You’ll make amazing fathers, you know? And you’ve earned the right to happiness in this life, I think, so you should be able to have all the babies you want. But I… I don’t want kids. I’ve never wanted kids, even when I was little. The idea of being pregnant makes me want to throw up and raising children sounds like a nightmare.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Wait, Bucky, please,” she pleaded quietly, “let me finish? I don’t want kids and you guys do, so badly and I can’t get in the way of your future. I think… I think we need to stop seeing each other.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit rash, baby?” Steve asked, eyebrows of disappoint in full effect, “we haven’t even discussed children.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want kids, Steve? That you’d be perfectly fine with never having any children? Because I know that’s a lie,” another small sip of tea was meant to steady her but just left her feeling overheated and heavy, “it’s not fair for me to keep you both wrapped up when I have no intention of having children.”

Steve opened his mouth but shut it again without saying anything, picking up the coffee he’d been drinking and taking a gulp. Across the table Bucky was doing the same with his tea and she sighed heavily before finishing off her cup.

“Can you let me out, Steve? I think I’m gonna head home,” she requested quietly, settling her cup back on the saucer.

“No baby, you stay there,” the blond answered with a sigh, carding his hand through her hair while holding her against his side, “the drugs we put in your tea will finish working in just a minute or two.”

Her head snapped towards him, hair flying around her face in a flurry, “what?! Steve what the fuck?!”

She attempted to press away from him, but her arms were starting to take on the same heavy feeling as her stomach. Her head was too, actually, now that she thought about it. The tea had tasted off but she’d been sure it was just her anxiety, that the lethargy sitting in her bones was just a result of the overwhelming sadness of having to break things off with the men she loved. She hadn’t considered that the heat boiling beneath her skin was anything but panic.

“Look, this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.”

“Oh my God,” she muttered, her mouth beginning to feel cotton-y, “wha...what..”

“I’ve had your apartment bugged since we started dating, baby,” Steve stated casually, “you talk to yourself a lot. We’ve known you were thinking about breaking it off for a couple of months now.”

“We’ve thought a lot about it and we just can’t let you, sweetheart. You’re too important to us,” Bucky added, the image of him swimming as her eyes started to blur, “you’ll get used to the idea of babies once you start having them, I promise.”

“S-Someone, help…” the words were barely a hoarse whisper, heat climbing through her body like a fire, “help me..”

“Shh, we’re going to help you baby,” Steve cooed in her ear, lips grazing her skin, “just go to sleep now.”

She woke up to moaning and pleasure, an orgasm rocketing through her with incredible intensity. Above her, Steve was still going strong. His massive form looked just as beautiful above her as it always did. There was something incredibly erotic about them fucking her while she slept, about being dragged out of her dreams by an orgasm rocking her out of control. Her arms were bound to the headboard, a usual occurrence, and Bucky was sitting to her left, cock in hand.

“Morning sweetheart, how’re you feelin’?” The brunet purred, reaching his unused hand out to stroke through her hair.

“Ohhh,” she moaned as Steve hiked her legs farther up over his hips, pelvis grinding into her clit with each thrust, “ohhh fuuuuck…”

“Yeah? Is Stevie making you feel good?” Bucky smirked, his hand traveling down to her tits, “look how big they’ve gotten Steve.”

“Gonna be nice and full for our babies,” he responded with a grunt, fingers digging into her hips.

Babies. Her memory returned with a vengeance; the cafe, the break up speech, being drugged. She screeched, yanking on the handcuffs locking her to the headboard. Her legs kicked out futilely, Steve’s grasp on her waist keeping her soundly in place. His cock was massive and he was pounding her like he was on a mission.

“Did you notice the changes over the last few months?” Bucky asked calmly, still touching her face even as she tried to move away, “we had to give you enough drugs to counteract the effects of the birth control shot you got earlier in the year. The fertility stuff has all the upsides, you know? Watching your tits grow was my favourite part, but Stevie liked how it filled you out. This is a perfect weight for you, sweetheart, especially while you’re having babies.”

“Oh my God, get off of me!” Her voice came out as a screech, still yanking against the bonds around her wrists, “get off!”

“Based on the timeline we’ve been going off of and the stuff we gave you last night, you should be ovulating for the next couple of days,” Bucky came to kneel next to her head, grabbing both of her hands to keep her from bruising herself on the restraints, “calm down, sweetheart, let Steve finish and then it's my turn again.”

“Love watching you fuck her,” Steve muttered to his boyfriend, continuing to pound her cunt while leaning over to kiss him, “I swear I can feel your cum in her pussy.”

“Nah, that monster cock pushed all of mine out,” Buck reached down, swiping his hand over where they were connected and bringing it back up covered in cum, “fill her back up Stevie. Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

She tried to refuse but he tutted at her, using his clean hand to plug her nose. He smiled when she ran out of breath, mouth opening in a gasp and he pressed his cum coated fingers between her lips, stroking her tongue.

Steve groaned at the sight, “Buck, move for a sec, would’ya?”

The brunet shifted and Steve pulled back, cock slipping out of her with a short whine. He’d always been vocal while they fucked, not so much in words but in noises. He grunted and groaned and moaned and she used to relish the sounds, the idea that she could make Captain America make noises like that. But now, as he grabbed her hips and turned her onto her stomach, making her wrists cross in her bonds, she hated the noises. It was disgusting how much he was enjoying himself.

“Here we go baby,” he murmured, carefully manipulating her onto her knees while her torso remained stretched out over the head of the bed, Bucky simultaneously turning her head so her cheek rested on a pillow, gently moving her hair out of her face, “gotta get my cum nice and deep in there.”

“Please stop,” she whimpered, tears pressing at the backs of her eyes, “Steve, please—”

“Shhh, you’re alright baby, you’re okay,” one hand rubbed circles into the small of her back, the other guiding his cock back to her weeping cunt, “almost done and then you can rest for a minute. We might’a put your little pussy through the wringer while you were asleep.”

There was no telling how many times they’d cum in her while she’d been drugged. She had no idea how long she’d been out, the black out curtains were pulled over the windows and she couldn’t see a clock from her position. It might not even have been the same evening, the same day. Bucky’s hand came to rest on her ass, a gentle caress making goosebumps rise on her skin.

“I’m gonna miss fucking your pretty ass sweetheart,” the brunet stated with a regretful look, “but we can’t waste anything in your asshole until you’re pregnant.”

“Won’t be long,” Steve grunted, tucking his hand under her waist and rubbing his fingers over her clit, “we’ll just need a bit more lube than usual.”

“Don’t, Steve,” she sobbed, “Don’t do this to me—”

“This’ll make us closer, I promise. Just hold still,” the blond gave a low hum under his break, movements become sharper and thrusts more brutal, “here we go, baby, here we go.”

“No! Don’t—”

Her shout was disrupted by him moaning her name, burying himself deep one more time before releasing his load. Her skin pressed nearly seamlessly to his pelvis, only shifting as he gave several small, abrupt thrusts. The rough movements pounded her clit and she came a few seconds after him. She’d known in the back of her head, that the serum had done something to their physiology. Their refractory periods were insane, the sheer volume of cum they made didn’t seem possible. Now, she wondered how strong their swimmers were and how effective the drugs they gave her would be.

“That’s so good baby,” Steve moaned quietly, laying his back over hers and gently stroking the hand not holding up his weight over her stomach gently, “so good for me.”

“Come on, Stevie, on her back,” Bucky’s tone was just as soft, his hands brushing over both of his lovers gently as he watched the blond pull his softening cock from her pussy and helped him turn her onto her back, “let me grab some pillows.”

The blond carefully lifted her legs, tucking her knees up close to her chest and tilting her pelvis back. Bucky tucked the pillows under her waist to keep her hips canted up, to support her back more than to hold her in position.

“Now, you gotta stay like this for the next fifteen or so minutes, baby,” Steve instructed as he climbed off the bed, Bucky taking hold of her legs, and grabbing a damp towel from the end table to wipe himself clean, “you’ve gotta give our babies the best chance.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” she hissed after a moment, forcing herself not to make any noises that might sound like crying, “both of you. I’m going to get an abortion the sec—”

“The second you can, we figured you’d say that,” Bucky laughed, thumbing brushing over her skin absently, “that’s why we’re not gonna give you the opportunity, sweetheart. We figure doctors still make house calls, we’ll have all of your prenatal care done here and you’ll have the baby here too. Maybe once you’ve had a couple of kids you can start going out by yourself again.”

“Let go!” The words weren’t as much of a shout as she’d been hoping for, “please, please let go.”

“Hush baby,” Steve climbed back into bed on her other side and took hold of her legs once again, readjusting her position slightly, “see, it’s not as uncomfortable as it could be, right? You just lay there and let me hold you, okay? Try to relax.”

“Here, now that you’re awake,” Bucky reached over to the side table and grabbed the remote, turning the TV mounted on the wall across from the bed on, “we can watch a movie while we wait.”

A fucking movie. They could watch a movie while they waited. One of their hands ran up over the curve of her ass, fingers delving into the slick mess of her pussy. She could tell they were pressing cum back into her, trying to keep as much in at once as possible.

“We’ll keep your pussy nice and full of cum,” the brunet’s voice was so low it was basically a rumble, “and your belly full of babies. Just wait, you’re going to have a wonderful life here with us, sweetheart. You’ll grow to love it, I promise.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!mcu #yandere prompts

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failbaby · 4 years

Note

Maybe a moreid based of this quote “You never meant for it to end this way right?”

Lmaoo so naturally I got carried away and this is actually like, many words and not 500 anyway

tw for drug use

If there were really a Hell, Derek is convinced that it’d look a lot like the detox unit at the Quantico hospital.

It’s an ugly place—peeling, water-stained wallpaper, an overpowering stench of Lysol wipes and bleach, sterile but not pristine or well-lit like the one up the interstate in DC—and even just walking down the hall, before he so much as lays eyes on Spencer, the absolute misery of it all is suffocating.

He’s alone.

The first time Spencer overdosed and had to spend two weeks detoxing, the whole unit had accompanied him down this hall.

After all, the addiction was hardly Spencer’s fault, and none of them had been helpful about it, so their collective guilt compelled them to the hospital.

Some days, they took turns visiting him one-on-one, and some days, they’d gather around and bicker like a mildly dysfunctional family as they tried to pick a movie to distract Spencer from his withdrawal pains, but Derek was always there.

Penelope made a garland of pressed flowers and draped it across the dresser in the corner of the room. Prentiss snuck Spencer some real coffee (they told her she couldn’t have outside containers with her, but she flashed them her FBI badge, which didn’t make sense but seemed to do the trick anyway), since he was only allowed to have decaf while detoxing. Hotch (who, Derek remarked to himself at the time, must have an EQ of approximately 1) was as unflinching as usual, but burst into the room almost daily to let Spencer know that he had Diana on the phone, which was his extremely detached way of apologizing from the bottom of his heart. JJ brought photos to tape to Spencer’s blank, ugly walls. She wrote NEVER FORGET: THE BAU LOVES YOU :)! in the middle of a large posterboard and taped it directly across from his bed.

(See that, Spence? Now you’ll have to think about that every morning as soon as you wake up and every night right before you go to sleep, she told him.)

After everyone else had left each day, just before the hospital locked down and visiting hours ended, Derek would sit by Spencer’s bed and hold his sweaty, shaking hand. (These were his favorite moments—Spencer was relaxed around him, and he’d always loved hearing what was on his mind.)

I feel loved, Spencer would tell him.

You are.

I want to get better. I have to get better.

You will.

And for a while, it almost seemed like he would.

It seemed like he did, in fact, until Derek found him convulsing on their bathroom floor.

That time, there was no outpouring of love in the hospital room. There were no posters or garlands or contraband caffeine.

Derek still stayed with him as much as he could. As much as it hurt to see his beautiful boy in so much pain, he always went to him after work, holding his trembling hands and eyeing the angry red track marks that littered his thin, pale arms. (He hated looking at the injection sites. He kissed them and halfway hoped that when he pulled his lips away, they’d somehow be gone.)

When the team came to visit, they were always quiet. Pensive. Sad.

Hotch visited Spencer only once, to let him know that he would be relieved of his duties immediately, and he needed to turn in his gun and badge as soon as he was discharged from the hospital.

I’m disappointed in you, Reid, he said, but even more disappointed that I let you turn out this way. You had so much potential.

Spencer cried himself to hiccups for three days, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for him.

That second overdose ate away at them.

The safe, domestic space they'd intentionally created for themselves away from the violence of their work had been violated—by both broken trust and the overall trauma of the overdose at home—and their house was not the peaceful, welcoming home it had once been.

The tension in which they lived now was nearly intolerable, but sometimes, when Spencer would fall asleep on the couch curled up against Derek’s chest, or when he’d wrap his arms around Derek’s neck in the shower and hum contentedly as he washed his hair, he hated himself for even thinking of abandoning Spencer. These were moments when he was very much still the sweet, passionate, awkwardly affectionate Spencer Reid he’d fallen in love with three years ago, and Derek couldn’t bring himself to drive those moments out of his life.

It wasn’t until Spencer started using heroin that his habit really, truly became intolerable.

Dilaudid, created in a lab, tested and approved by the FDA, is expensive. Far too expensive for someone without a job.

Heroin, however, mixed god-knows-where with god-knows-what by god-knows-who, is cheap. (Not cheap enough that Spencer doesn’t have to steal money and pawn off the heirloom watch he got from his grandfather, but still far cheaper than Dilaudid.)

Derek figures it out when he finds a broken water balloon buried in their bathroom trashcan.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I don’t know. I’m sorry.

Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?

Yes. I know. Derek, I’m sorry—

Are you insane? “Sorry” is not good enough anymore, do you understand that? One of these days, you’re gonna wind up face-down in a ditch and I’m not gonna know what happened to you. I can’t fucking take that.

I—

Last chance. Last chance to take this seriously. I’m taking you to day treatment one more fucking time and that’s it. You choose. You can choose me, or you can choose this shit, but you can’t have both anymore.

Naturally, Spencer’s third overdose hasn’t found him well.

Derek’s so familiar with the Quantico hospital’s detox unit by now that he doesn’t even have to be shown to Spencer’s room. He declines the offer to be shown around, and the nurse, who recognizes him, gives him a pitying look.

He navigates the hall completely alone—no nurses or teammates by his sides.

When he opens the door, Spencer is sitting upright in bed, holding his face in his hands.

Derek wordlessly pulls the chair in the corner of the room up to his bedside.

“You know what I’m about to say to you?”

“Yes,” Spencer whispers. “You never meant for it to end this way, right?”

“Right.”

They sit in thick, painful silence for a moment.

“I love you,” Derek says eventually. “I don’t want to, but I do, and I’m probably gonna love you for the rest of my life. I gave you a choice, remember?”

“I…I know.”

“Right. And...you made your choice. But…if you ever change your mind, if you…get clean, and you make a different choice, I’ll still be here, okay? My number will stay the same.”

Spencer’s face crumples, and he begins to cry freely, chest heaving, tears falling rapidly down his hollowed, gaunt cheeks. God, he must be thirty pounds underweight.

For just a moment, Derek feels the urge to wrap his arms around Spencer’s shaking shoulders and wipe the tears from his beautiful brown eyes. He wants to comfort him, make him feel safe and loved the way he used to before narcotics took the job.

Instead, he stands up, turns his back on the love of his life, and prepares to face a life as lonely and desolate as the halls of the Quantico detox unit.

#ask #formatting and pasting this took longer than writing it i hate this web site #criminal minds #moreid #writing

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risottoneroo · 4 years

Text

Between His Fingers, Chapter Three

chapter three is here! hope yall like it!

warnings: drug mentions, teen boys being awkward, mentions of trauma and grooming, injury mention, implied nsfw

tags: @killuas-manicure @i-mean-i--guess @spaceeballs @casketjuice

chapter two

Kakyoin stared after you. He’d been joking about Jojo, but he was starting to realize that he himself really liked you.

You ran after Jotaro. “Hey, dickhead, wait for me.”

He shot you a dangerous look. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so big and scary and tall.”

He sighed. “Shut up, woman. Don’t overstay your welcome.”

You rolled your eyes. “Tall, menacing, and misogynistic. What a fucking catch you are, Kujo.”

You walked next to him in silence for a bit. He glanced at you. “How are your wounds?”

You shot him a glare. “Fine. My jaw is still bruised.”

He nodded. Kakyoin caught up with you two and walked on your other side. “Is he being rude, Y/N?”

You smiled at him. “No, Nori. It’s okay.”

Kakyoin’s heart jumped at the little nickname. He gave you a dumb grin. “Uh. Good.”

He cleared his throat and looked away. You smiled. You could clearly see Noriaki’s little crush, and you thought it was adorable. He wasn’t bad looking either. You could see your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him into a kiss, making him blush…

Jotaro cleared his throat. “If you two are done making eyes at one another…”

You snapped back and glared at him. He gestured to a door. “We’re here.”

He opened it. You stepped through, Kakyoin following. Jotaro’s stomach clenched. Watching you smile and call Kakyoin “Nori” was getting to him for some reason. He pushed it away.

Joseph was waiting for you in the room. He looked stern, and was easily as tall as Jotaro. “I’m Joseph Joestar. I heard you attacked my grandson.”

You looked down. “I was- well…”

He laughed. “Nothing against you. Kakyoin did the same when he met us.”

You looked up. “Really?”

Joseph and Kakyoin nodded. You smiled. “That’s a relief.”

Kakyoin said, “And I was brainwashed too. It’s not your fault.”

Joseph put a hand on your shoulder. “But we do need to know any information you have about Dio.”

You bit your lip. “He really never told me much. I was kind of a pet to him, really. If I did know anything, I’d tell you, I swear.”

Joseph sighed. “I believe you.”

You smiled, relieved. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Joseph nodded. You glanced at Jotaro, then Kakyoin, then back. “Can I travel with you all? I’d like to take back my life.”

Joseph looked at you warmly. “Of course. You can stay in the room with Kakyoin and Jotaro for tonight, if that suits you.”

You looked at the boys, smiling. “Yeah, that works, if they’re okay with it.”

Jotaro looked away, shrugging. Kakyoin nodded, a little too eagerly, and caught himself when Jotaro shot him a look. He coughed. “Yeah. That would be- that would be cool.”

A large, dark-skinned man walked into the room. “Mr. Joestar, I don’t believe there are any more Stand users in the area. I have surveyed the hotel and the grounds, and nobody gave off any unusual energy. Whoever this girl is, Dio clearly thought she’d be more of a challenge.”

You bristled. “I would have beat Mr. Tall Dark and Grumpy if he hadn’t played dirty.”

Jotaro exhaled. “Tch.”

The dark skinned man held out his hand. “My name is Muhammad Avdol. I have heard of your prowess, of course. I do not want to demean you or your Stand.”

You took his hand. “Y/N L/N. Are you from Egypt? I recognize your accent.”

He nodded. “Do you know the country?”

You smiled. “I grew up on the streets of Cairo.”

His eyes widened. “Did Dio kidnap you?”

You looked down. “Yes. He couldn’t manage to kill me, so he made me his… He called me a holy woman, when he was drunk.”

Avdol looked confused. “Why could he not kill you?”

You felt the burns on your back tingle. “My stand has certain powers, including emitting strong UV light, that make it hard to battle. Especially for a vampire.”

Avdol’s eyes widened. Kakyoin gasped. “That’s a very powerful ability.”

He reached for your shoulder, and you flinched. Kakyoin tilted his head. “The burns on your back…they look like angel wings. Your Stand…”

You nodded. “When it materialized last year, it burned its way out of my body. I’m marked forever. Even now, she can only materialize out of these burns without causing more damage. If she touches me anywhere else, I will be burned. She is as vengeful as her name suggests.”

Jotaro looked at you. “I played dirty because I wouldn’t have been able to win otherwise. I’m not Polnareff.”

Kakyoin snickered. “Yeah. you have no honor.”

Jotaro shot him a glare.

Joseph also seemed interested, leaning in and asking, “UV light? Like sunlight?”

You nodded. “Bright UV light and radiation. Exactly like a star. It damages Dio significantly on contact with the light itself. With living people, my Stand has to touch them.”

Joseph nodded. “You did quite a number on Jotaro’s neck and arms.”

Jotaro’s hand went to his neck, where his own burns were still prominent. Joseph said, “That’s quite the powerful Stand you have. May I see it?”

You closed your eyes. “Angel of Judgement!”

Your Stand materialized next to you and spread its wings. Light radiated off it and illuminated the room. You tried as hard as you could to suppress its light so it wouldn’t burn down the hotel. The others covered their eyes. Kakyoin was first to look up. “It’s gorgeous, Y/N.”

You smiled at him. Avdol looked up at it. “It’s very humanoid for a Stand, wings and eyes notwithstanding. It reminds me of Star Platinum.”

Kakyoin walked around behind you, looking at your Stand from every angle. You backed up so you still faced him. He cocked his head at you again. Jotaro spoke up, “It’s bright. Can you turn that thing down?”

You growled. “You asking for more burns, Kujo?”

He snorted. “Tch. Women.”

Joseph appeared to be just as dazzled. You dematerialized your Stand, leaving everyone feeling a little colder.

You fell with a gasp, the energy taken out of you. Jotaro caught you by the shoulders, setting you upright. “What happened, Y/N?”

You looked at him curiously. “You used my real name.”

He looked away. “Tch. Answer the question.”

You rolled your eyes and said, “It takes a great deal of effort when my Stand is out to keep from burning down the building it’s in.”

Kakyoin nodded. “I noticed that. It was setting the club on fire as you two fought.”

Jotaro grunted in agreement. Avdol said solemnly, “A great blessing, as well as a great curse. Your Stand, as powerful as it may be, is still a threat to all you love.”

You noticed Jotaro was still holding your arms, and you pulled away from his grasp. “Lucky I don’t love anything, then.”

You met the stares of the men in the room evenly. The first to break was Joseph. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re exhausted. Go to the room and rest.”

Kakyoin decided to walk you to the room while Jotaro stayed to talk to his grandfather. He kept looking at you curiously. You met his gaze. “Out with it. What do you wanna ask?”

He looked down. “You moved away from me suddenly back there. Is there a reason? Does it have to do with your time in Dio’s keep?”

You stopped at the door to the hotel room. He opened it and looked at you. “You can tell me.”

You stepped past him, inside the room. He was being so kind. You bit your lip. You turned to face him. Kakyoin looked at you with genuine concern in his eyes. You avoided his gaze and said evenly, “I used to be a female street urchin. It’s an instinct. Dio never mistreated me. He never even really laid a hand on me.”

Kakyoin closed the door behind you two. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away, mumbling, “‘S not your fault.”

Kakyoin cupped your cheek. His hand was warm and dry and immensely comforting. “I don’t mean to apologize. I’m trying to tell you I sympathize.”

You blinked slowly, trying to hold back tears. “It’s okay, I swear.”

Kakyoin stroked your cheek gently. “If you insist. May I hug you?”

You nodded and hugged him tightly around the waist. He laughed and hugged you back. He was big and warm. You took a deep breath against his chest, noticing his scent. Like sandalwood and cherry blossoms. He stroked your hair gently. “I know we just met, but…”

You pulled back to look at him. He was blushing. You tilted your head innocently. “But what, Nori?”

He pushed his bangs back from his face. “Would you like…to maybe…go for a dance sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You flushed too. “Yeah…Yeah I would like that.”

Kakyoin was already looking at the floor. “It’s okay if you don’t- OH you said yes.”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did.”

He blushed even more, smiling nervously. “And- And would you want to sleep with me tonight?”

You pulled back, raising an eyebrow. Kakyoin stuttered and waved his hands, trying to save himself. “N-Not l-like that! I-I meant l-like in my bed. W-with me. I d-didn’t want to force you into anything.”

You laughed. “You’re cute. Yes.”

He calmed down considerably, sighing. “Good.”

You got up on your tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “‘That’ comes after the date.”

Kakyoin’s eyes widened. “Oh…okay. I mean- that would be- um.”

You chuckled softly in his ear, and he felt himself just about melt. Kakyoin put his hand on the wall. “I- Y/N…”

You pulled back a few steps, leaving the boy a panting mess. “Too much?”

Kakyoin looked at you. You looked genuinely concerned for his well being. He shook his head. “I’d rather just…wait.”

You smiled. “I’m a virgin too, Nori. Teasing is just my specialty.”

He nodded, trying to catch his breath. He wondered briefly if you used to tease Dio like that, but dismissed it. If you had, it wasn’t his business. You cocked your head at him, watching him straighten up and adjust his uniform. He was so much fun to tease, you knew you’d be teasing him like crazy all night.

Jotaro walked in then, not acknowledging either of you. He dropped on the bed, pulled his hat over his eyes, and went to sleep. You walked back up to Kakyoin and whispered, “Does he shower?”

Kakyoin shook his head, then thought, then nodded. “He showered last night.”

You shot him a look. He didn’t look up.

Jotaro wasn’t asleep. He was grumbling to himself in his head, thinking about the conversation he’d had with his grandfather.

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enderspawn · 3 years

Note

🎼 (I can’t find the correct emoji lol) exile arc tommy?

Oh boy! (opens up breakdown playlist) /hj

Montreal – Penelope Scott

Sleep with a Baseball Bat – Cosmic Johnny

Brother – Gerard Way

breakdown under cut, tw for suicidal ideation on the first song esp

1. Montreal – heehee hoohoo suicidal/depression thoughts baby!!

I mean in short this is tommy saying he wont Survive exile. The intro of the song lists when the singer would be home from college/school and that “another 90 day summers gonna take [their] fucking life” which is rlly just. Tommy not gonna live THAT long in exile.

“And I would rather die And let me make it clear It's nobody's fault But I think we all know That I won't make it to Montreal”

So the thing here is that its “nobody’s fault” bc on one hand it is that he doesn’t blame tubbo but worse he doesn’t blame DREAM. Its just meant to happen, its not bc of anybody, yknow?

“And I would rather die I'll jump before I'll fall And I'm having lots of fun But I won't make it Montreal”

Mans tried to jump to his death before he “fell” whether bc of dream or an accident, hes makin the active CHOICE to end it rather than just waiting. Even w the fun he’s having w dream, he’s miserable and he knows he wont make it to see lmanberg again

“You like to talk about the future As if it's real And when you tell me that you love me I can almost feel it”

Dream keeps promising him stuff for the future. Maybe he can visit to see the tree, maybe he can get another visit, maybe he wont be alone. But tommy doesn’t care, its all fake to him (which like, it is so good for him but fjkdlsjf)

“It's not that it's a bad plan No, the plan fucking slapped I was so excited you don't know how bad I wanted all of it The coffee shop, the weather, the apartment But I don't want anything anymore I don't know, I guess I just got bored”

Okay so. Tommy kept trying to get shit together to leave, right? He wanted to go back so bad and have this domestic life w his friends but in the end he just got so downtrodden that after his shit got blown up he was so ready to just GIVE UP.

“And I don't wanna die I don't wanna get left behind But it's better half than none I hope to god you have some fun”

He doesn’t want to be in this situation, he still CARES abt the lmanberg crew but in the end hes been told that they’re happy WIHTOUT him. He’s not angry at them, not anymore, he just wants them to be happy bc he isn’t.

2. Sleep with a Baseball Bat – tommy and dream relationship baby!!

“And every time you wake up Thinking this could be the day Well something, something just”

Every day in exile he had no real plans. He just had to exist out there alone and hope someone else came. This IS the day he can do…. Something. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a goal.

“And when your love is an anxiety attack Don’t settle for that, don’t settle for that And when you wake and find the claw marks in your back Sleep with a baseball bat, sleep with a baseball bat”

Hes been manipulated into thinkin dream is his friend, that dream “loves” him but it makes him miserable! Hes paranoid and stressed and falling apart!! Boy!!! Fjdsklfj

“Siena says you’re getting used But something’s broken in your head And you can’t run away when you need to”

The other ppl who visited him, like ranboo, KNEW something was happening and that he was in a bad place but tommy had been manipulated by dream so much that he couldn’t process it. No, dream couldn’t be bad, dream was his friend, right? He couldn’t leave exile, dream would be upset. Its all what DREAM wants, not tommy.

“Hey, space cadet Are you still floating round the rock That you spent so much of your life trying to get away from? And does it at least look different from up there?”

OKAY SO ONE. SPACE CADET? THAT’S CLARA BABY!! TWO: he spent ALL his time on this server fucking fighting dream, trying to “get away from” him. But now hes stuck “floating around” with him as his “friend”. The last line feels sarcastic and bitter but like. FUCK it hits, yknow??

“It might take a couple tries till you believe it But love is real, you’ll figure it out, you’ll live to see it But you still have to take a couple of falls And you can’t make an omelet without breaking your balls So batter up Is your bed made? Is your helmet on?”

HAPPY ENDING POG!! HE STARTS HEALING!!!! HE STARTS REALIZING DREAM WASN’T HIS FRIEND!!! He still “falls” and relapses into wanting dream w him but hes so much better!!! Also,,,,, “is your helmet on” w the turtle shell helmet (eyes emoji)

3. Brother – IF TECHNO AND TOMMY NOT BROTHERS WHY THIS SON—(gunshot rings out)

Okay so on a serious note this song is abt addiction and while I don’t want to take away from that Serious Topic, it Does relate but w tommy dealing w his ptsd of dream

“And brother, if you have the chance to pick me up And can I sleep on your couch To the pound of the ache and pain? Oh, in my head 'Cause I'm awake all night long To the drums of the city rain”

Hhrhnrng staying at technos place to hide from dream and get better a lil JFKDLSJK. Also “the drums of the city rain” is referenced a LOT in this song but like. It keeps him up so,,,,,, dream JFKDLSJF. Mans barely ever slept in exile so it WORKS okay jfkdlsjf

“The lights we chase The nights we steal The things that we take to make us feel this (To the drums of the city rain)”

This is him and techno livin together!! Like in the first chorus you could see lights we chase being tommy finding techno’s place, then later it’s the lights of lmanberg as they sneak in. the nights they steal is both just time spent together and also straight up the times they stole shit JFKDSLJ. “the things that we take to make us feel” is the gapples tommy always eats so that he can feel safe (also, bc in the og song this is PROBABLY abt drugs and potions are drugs in universe so. Arguably getting a potion effect from the apple means it is Also Drugs? Fjdkslfj)

“I can't go back I don't think I will I won't sleep tonight as long as I still Hear the drums of the city rain”

Go back to logstedshire or lmanberg you ask?? The answer is yes. Both. He feels like he doesn’t belong in lmanberg and logstedshire is too traumatizing for him to return at this point. As long as he “hears the drums of the city rain”, or is thinking of dream, he Cant Sleep:tm:

“Does anyone have the guts to shut me up? 'Cause I believe that every night There's a chance we can walk away So hold on tight Because I won't wait too long In the drums of the beating rain”

Okay so hear me out but. This is just tommy and dream. “I believe that every night theres a chance we can walk away” is tommy hoping desperately for dream to let him go home, to walk away from logstedshire. He never will be permitted, not really, but theres a chance that tommy clings to. He wont “wait too long” while out in exile and stuck w dream bc hes desperate and miserable (also fun fact these analysis is basically me just pmv’ing shit in my head and rambling vaguely abt it but like. Listen,,,, flashback verse jfkdsljf) ALSO. The line “does anyone have the guts to shut me up” in relation to exile!tommy is just VERY important to me. Mans was so quiet and afraid to speak up when in exile.

“'Cause the nights don't last And we leave alone Will you drive me back? Can you take me home? (To the drums of the city rain)”

Following up that last paragraph, this is still in flashback. The days end and dream leaves again, making tommy alone. He asks if he can go back, if he can see home and lmanberg and everyone. But echoing the “to the drums of the city rain” after home CAN imply that “home” has become logstedshire WITH DREAM even tho it keeps him up and aaAAAAAHHHH

I swear this ends up okay and techno + tommy focused fjkdsljf

“Faces I don't know I am tired in the glow”

He feels isolated from everyone during his exile and lashes out at those who visit, to the point he feels like they’re all more or less strangers and “faces he doesn’t know”. Being tired in the glow is, imo, him over the lava.

“Of the freezing club Keep me breathing Don't make the lights come back Can you take me home? We all need this When we leave alone”

Hhhngg okay so tommy breakdown time! Hes in techno’s house (the freezing club) and is just pleading for techno to help. Don’t let “the lights come back” (lava again maybe? He doesn’t want to be Like This?) and just wants to feel like hes at home because hes just left exile and hes Messed Up Over It

“Remember when you and I would make things up? So many nights, just take me down To the place we can hear them play I miss that sound 'Cause now we don't sing so loud To the drums of the city rain”

OKAY SO THEY MAY NOT BE CANON FAMILY BUT WILBUR REMEMBERS SPARRING W TECHNO AS A KID AND PHIL IS HIS CLOSE FRIEND SO THEY STILL KNEW EACH OTHER AS KIDS SO SHUSH FJSDKL. Tommy just wants things to go back to how they were, before everything. When things were easy and they were kids just having fun. He misses it. Before exile, before lmanberg, before dream. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re stuck in this now. With his brother dead and his closest friend being the man who killed his best friend and helped blow up his country. Again, the drums of the city rain is dream. Because of his influence, its all different.

Hhhngngngn this is too long so I wont go into the last outro bc you can interpret it a LOT of ways, esp depending on how you want to Pace this song w the exile arc. But like. The analysis is THERE if you really wanna push it/animatic it babeyyy

#dream smp #mcyt #tommyinnit #exile arc #HHHHNG IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE JFKLDSJ #I PROMISED MYSELF ID FINISH THIS ASK GAME UP AND WOULDNT GO IN DEPTH AS MUCH THEN DID EXACTLY THAT W THREE SONGS JFKDSL #tommy #answered #song ask game #listen the last song is a LIL bit of a stretch but its my playlist i get to put in the not depressing song fjdkls #Anonymous

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banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Shattered - Logan Delos

Prompt: Can I request for Logan Delos? Maybe after what happened with William his best friend doesn't leave his side even when he starts pushing her away because he sees himself as a fuck up and thinks he doesn't deserve her but when he finally sees her going toe to toe with his dad over him he realizes he's in love with her and starts to see that she's in love with him and isn't giving up on him (sorry this is so long) Prompter: Anonymous

Here you go anon. Thanks for the request.

Warning: Substance abuse, overdosing, addiction, angst. Be kind to yourselves dears.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

Unlike every other time you came to Logan’s place, the lights were off. Normally that would have meant that Logan wasn’t home, but his car was parked in the driveway. And the Find Your Friends app said that his phone was there.

It wouldn’t be the first time that Logan had disappeared, but he always told you first. He always told you before he disappeared because he knew you’d worry about him. That was how your friendship worked.

You used the key that he had given you a few years ago to let yourself in.

The place was a mess. Your first thought was that someone had ransacked the place, but the further inside you went, the more you saw that it was just messy. Beer bottles were everywhere, empty bottles of liquor and wine piled high. Not to mention the packs of cigarettes that were littered over the coffee table.

Logan had quit smoking years ago. Apparently he had fallen back into it.

Quietly you made your way through the house to Logan’s bedroom. The door was half cracked. Hand on the knob, you steeled yourself for whatever you might see inside.

You could only pray that you weren’t about to find your best friend’s dead body.

The door creaked a bit when you pushed it open. Light poured in through the windows and it illuminated the bed. There were no blankets or pillows on the bed, the fitted sheet half pulled off. In the middle of the bed was a body.

You’d recognize him anywhere.

“Logan? Hey Logan, it’s me,” you called softly from the doorway.

No response. You took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Then you crossed the distance over to the bed so that you were right next to it. He was turned towards the windows so the light showed you his face.

His eyes were clenched tight and his jaw flexed. Now that you were closer you could see the tiny shivers running through his body. Sweat covered his body, soaking through the t-shirt he wore.

“Logan?”

He shook his head minutely but didn’t respond. At least that told you he was awake. You put your bag down and moved to sit next to him. He flinched when you reached out to brush the hair from his forehead.

Soaked with sweat. He was also clammy and cold to the touch.

“Logan, what did you take? Come on sweetheart, you gotta tell me. Do I need to get you to the hospital?”

He didn’t answer again. You looked around for any signs of the usual drugs he did, but you didn’t see anything. No white powder residue on the table, no spoons or syringes, no bottles of pills. You looked back at Logan and saw the way his body clenched in waves.

This wasn’t an overdose or a bad high. This was DTs. He was in withdrawal.

“I’m here,” you whispered as you scooted closer to him, careful not to touch him. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.”

------

The day that Logan came back from Westworld was a very confusing time. Things at Delos had nose dived, with William at the helm of it all. He had said that Logan had gone off the deep end at Westworld and couldn’t be responsible enough for his job at the company. His father had agreed without question.

You went to the hospital where Logan was being treated for dehydration and sun poisoning. When you went into the room, he had stared at you as if he didn’t recognize you. You tried to grab his hand but he curled them into fists and tucked them under his arms as best he could with the IVs. And then he turned his head to look away from you.

It had hurt so much to be shut out, but you understood it. He’d been lost in Westworld for a few days and you imagined that had to be a terrifying time for him.

You didn’t believe William that Logan had lost it at Westworld. You knew Logan, knew how he was when he was at the park. He played the game, sure, but he wasn’t crazy. And nothing would have made him put his place at the company in danger.

You’d give him time, let him heal a bit before you tried again. You knew that you weren’t going anywhere. He knew it too.

------

The drugs were a security blanket for him. In the years you’d been friends with him, he fell into them every now and then. It was a release, a way to escape the life that he always felt he didn’t deserve. The pills, the coke, the needles, it was all a way for him to disappear for a while.

It was Westworld without having to wear spurs.

When he got out of the hospital, it didn’t surprise you that he went on a bender. It did surprise you that Juliet called you crying because he had overdosed and was in the hospital. He’d always known how far he could go, how far was too far. He’d never been this bad before.

This time when you went to the hospital, you weren’t alone. You had Juliet with you. His room was dark and there seemed to be so many monitors hooked up to him.

He looked small in that hospital bed. For the first time in your life, he looked small and frail and weak. Even when he was fresh from the Westworld desert, he hadn’t seemed so lost.

Juliet had cried into his shoulder, demanded that he stop acting like this. She swore and screamed at him for scaring her, for almost leaving her. You stayed near the doorway the whole time, ready to wave off any nurses that came by to see what the commotion was about.

His eyes flicked from you to her and then back. It was like he couldn’t believe that you were there.

And when it was your turn to confront him, you merely grabbed his wrist and told him to rest. Yelling wouldn’t do anything. Juliet knew that but she was upset, scared.

“Just rest,” you said as you smoothed your thumb over his hand, careful of where the needle was in his hand. “We’ll be here to bring you home in a few days.”

The day he was being released, you and Juliet went to pick him up but he was already gone.

------

It went like that for so long. He’d pop up for a few days, high or drunk and mean as a snake. The things he said to Juliet were enough to make his sister cry. You were there for one terrifying instance when she threw a vase at his head for the things he said.

And the things he said to you were not much better. The problem with your friendship with him was that he knew all of your weak spots, all of the tender wounds you hid from the world. He knew just how to push on them to make you bleed.

“Your parents didn’t want you.”

“You’ll never be good at your job, will always be second best.”

“You’re nothing, just someone who hangs around my family to try to get our scraps.”

Every barb struck true, but you refused to let them stick around. Everything he said was your worst fears, but you knew that he knew that. And he was doing it on purpose. For whatever reason, he had decided to push everyone away, but you refused to let him succeed.

Then one night when you went to check on him at his place, he had been so drunk he could barely stand. He refused your help, demanded you leave. When you didn’t, he used the one card in his hand that he hadn’t dealt yet.

“You’re just pathetic. You’re in love with me but I don’t want you. I’d rather fuck robots than fuck you. You’re so pathetic.”

It felt like glass had shattered under your skin. Every inch hurt, stung as if you were covered in cuts and had been dropped into the ocean.

Everyone had been able to see your feelings for Logan but it was ignored. You’d rather have him as a friend than as a lover because you knew he wouldn’t want to be tied down that way. He was loyal to friends in a way he could never be loyal to a lover. You had accepted your fate and moved on.

Logan’s words shattered that for you. It was everything you had feared about yourself laid out on the table by the one man you trusted more than anything.

“I’ll leave you alone,” you finally said when you found your tongue. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone, just please be careful. It would kill Juliet if something happened to you. You’re the only family she really has.”

Not to mention you, but you refused to voice that. Not right then when emotions were raw and Logan was still looking for more daggers to throw.

On his porch with the door shut, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. The tears refused to fall yet but you knew you’d have to pull over on the way home or risk crashing your car.

The sound of glass shattering in the house made you jump. It seemed he wasn’t done wrecking things.

------

The party was to celebrate some merger or other. You hadn’t wanted to go, afraid that Logan would be there, but Juliet had begged you. And she promised that Logan wouldn’t be caught dead at the party.

You put on your nicest dress and did your hair and makeup. Outwardly you looked put together and in control. Inwardly you were a mess of angles and edges. After the things with Logan had exploded, you felt unmoored. Of course you had other friends and a job that you were good at, but you felt as if you were just going through the motions.

Juliet had noticed but she couldn’t do much besides tell you she was sorry. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even Logan’s fault.

You blamed William. Or maybe you blamed Westworld. Or maybe you blamed the world for not making life easier for you.

“Haven’t seen you around much lately,” a familiar and unwelcome voice said from somewhere to your left. “Since Logan stopped sniffing after you like a stray dog.”

You stood up taller as you turned to face James Delos himself. He looked completely at ease with a glass of scotch in his hand. And the look in his eyes told you that it wasn’t his first glass.

Logan would hate to know just how much he had in common with his father sometimes.

“I’m only here for Juliet. She asked me to come,” you said as you lifted your wine glass in her direction on the other side of the room.

“Yes, both of my children seem to be obsessed with you. Personally I don’t understand it. You’re not much to look at, are you?”

You laughed and took a sip from your glass.

“Unless you have something to say that’s worth listening to, you might as well move on Mr Delos. You’re not going to get a reaction from me.”

Juliet had told you that Logan hadn’t been around much so James must have been missing his favorite verbal punching bag. You had no intention of filling that void.

He scoffed and gestured with the hand that held his drink.

“Look at this, all of these people here to celebrate the company that bears my name. If Logan had stuck around, we could have ended up in the gutter. He’s better off with a needle in his arm. It’s all he’s good for.”

You would have been fine if he had aimed his barbs at you. After what his son had said, nothing else could hurt you as bad as that. But this?

There was no one as important to you as Logan. Even now.

You turned to meet his eyes and enjoyed it as he recoiled at the hatred in your eyes.

“If you were any bit a man of worth, you would feel something for your son who is obviously hurting, but you’re not a man. You’re a cruel and petty worm that happens to have a lot of money. You think any of these people would stick around if your name wasn’t Delos? They don’t care about you, they only care about what you can do for them. You are alone because no one could ever love you.”

You grabbed Juliet’s hand as she came up at the tail end of your rant. Her eyes shone as she stared at you and you gave her a tight smile.

Might as well make it official.

“Your children try to impress you, try to make you proud, but they never will, will they? Because you don’t care about them. Here’s what you don’t understand. Juliet deserves so much more than you and William, a man who obviously is lying about what happened in Westworld but you’re too stuck up your own ass to care. And Logan?” Your voice broke when you said his name but you continued on. “Logan deserves so much more than you and your disdain. He is in pain but all you care about is the Delos name. He is your blood, James Delos, and what happens to him, happens to you. Worse than that, it is because of you.”

You squeezed Juliet’s hand before you released it. Then you drained the last of your wine and dropped the glass on the ground, letting it shatter into a thousand pieces under your feet.

“So the next time you decide to be so low as to kick your own son while he’s down and needs help, remember this. When you’re old and frail and dying, your children will be the only ones at your bedside. Maybe you should make sure they are there to do more than just pull the plug.”

Heart in your throat, you turned to leave the party, but you came to a halt. Logan was standing a few feet away. He looked rough, eyes red and glassy. His hair was a mess, facial hair longer than he usually wore it.

And he was staring straight at you.

You shouldered your way past the onlookers, but you couldn’t help but cast one last glance at Logan before you went out of the party.

It must have been the lights, but you thought he was crying.

------

Three nights after the party, you stared at your phone at the Find Your Friends app you and Logan shared. There was a little dot on the map where his house was. You stared at it for so long that you started to feel dizzy.

You wanted to see him. You knew it could lead to more yelling, more tears, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

It hurt, but he was still your best friend.

So with nothing left to lose, you grabbed your purse and your keys and headed to your car. It was a short drive that felt longer by the anxiety building in your chest. When you pulled up to the house, you were surprised to see the lights off.

His car was there though. And you had a key.

------

You must have fallen asleep at some point. The bed was comfortable under you, but there was something else. A warm body on top of your legs. There was a head on your stomach and your hand was threaded through the hair.

It was Logan. You knew it before you opened your eyes because the memory of coming to his house was heavy on your mind, but you couldn’t remember how you had ended up in this position.

You had been on the bed next to him. He had been sweating, in pain. Not high, no. Detox.

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled against your stomach. “Your breathing changed.”

“How are you feeling?”

He rubbed his face against your t-shirt. You peered down at the top of his head and tried not to smile at the sight. He was never a morning person.

“Hungry.”

It took a bit to get both of you out of bed, but you felt better once you could stretch. Without looking at him, you told him to take a shower while you made breakfast.

The sound of the water running told you that he listened to you. First time for everything.

Breakfast was made and on the table before he came out of the shower. You caught a glimpse of him as he walked through the house, his hair wet and pushed back. He wore a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. It was the most relaxed you’d seen him since before Westworld.

You could separate your life in before and after Logan had gone to Westworld.

When he got to the kitchen, he noticed that you only had one plate set.

“You’re going to leave,” he stated. Then he shook his head and let out a sad laugh. “It shouldn’t surprise me. After what I’ve put you through the last few months, I’m surprised you came by at all.”

You stared at him for a long moment. He was usually better at hiding his emotions but it seemed like all of his walls had crumbled down.

“I ate while you were in the shower. Sit. Do you want juice or water?”

You had been surprised that he had so much food and drink in his fridge, but the grocery deliveries probably still happened even if he was too drunk to do any cooking for himself.

“I want to apologize.”

“I didn’t come here for that,” you said as you grabbed the juice from the fridge and moved to find a clean glass.

“What did you come here for?”

He sounded so broken that you couldn’t help but turn around to look at him.

“Honestly? I think I came here to see you. And maybe yell at you. But after I saw you last night, saw how much pain you were in, I can’t yell at you.”

He sat at the table and after a long moment you sat next to him. It was closer than you had been in months, with the exception of the night before.

“I want to get better,” he breathed as he looked down at his plate. “I need to get better or else you and Juliet are going to have to plan a funeral.”

The thought felt like a punch to your gut. Your hand came out and covered Logan’s hand. The touch made him jump, but then he turned his hand so that his palm was pressed against yours.

“Whatever you need, okay? If you want to try rehab, I’ll help you look. If you want to do it cold turkey, I’ll stand by your side and smack your hand if you even look at a commercial for alcohol. If you want to get better, your sister and I will be here for you.”

His eyes were fixed on your hands linked together but you could still see him clear enough to see the tears.

“Why would you do that for me?”

You took a deep breath and tried to hold back your own tears.

“Because you were right, I am in love with you. But what’s more important than that is the fact that I love you. You’re my best friend Logan, my family. I want you happy and healthy and alive.”

His hand had started to shake when you started to talk and by time you had ended, he was sobbing. You stood up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He buried his face into your stomach as he cried.

“It’s going to be okay Logan,” you promised as you ran your hand through his hair. “It’s all going to be okay.”

------

“Two weeks sober and clean,” you said as you put down a plate in front of Logan and then another in front of Juliet. “I thought we should have a celebration.”

Logan was smiling, but you could see the tension behind his eyes.

“It’s just two weeks. Nothing to celebrate.”

You put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“It’s a big deal Logan. Two weeks, fourteen days. Every day is a battle and this is fourteen battles behind you. Accept the celebration and free food.”

He laughed and covered your hand with his for a moment before he started to dig into his food. Juliet followed suit with a smile.

“This is great. Haven’t had a home cooked meal in a while,” she said as she grabbed the rolls in the middle of the table.

She had left her father’s house and in turn left William too. You were proud of her as well.

“I’m glad you two made up,” she said as she passed the rolls over to Logan. “I hated it when you two weren’t talking. I didn’t know what I could do to make it better.”

You gave a tight smile to Juliet before you turned to grab the pitcher of water from the fridge. It had been two weeks of Logan fighting his addictions and that was the important thing. You didn’t want to add to his stresses by making him talk about the things he had said or the things he had heard you say to his dad.

You just wanted him healthy and happy.

The meal was exactly what you had wanted it to be when you mentioned it to the siblings. It took their minds off of their troubles for a short time. And it helped you feel a semblance of normalcy.

It was a step in the right direction.

------

“Logan! What are you doing here?”

He came into your apartment without an invitation. He looked good, better than he had even before Westworld. He had filled out a bit and now even had some muscle on his frame. Apparently he had picked up working out to help him beat his addiction.

It was better than him sleeping with every person in the city. Although it made sense that he wouldn’t be doing that if he was avoiding his other vices as well.

“Haven’t been here since…” Since before Westworld. He shook his head and then turned to look at you. “I got my two month chip today.”

You gave him a wide smile.

“I know. I’m so proud of you Logan.”

He smiled and then turned away. You watched as he looked at the pictures on your shelves. There were more than a few of the two of you.

“One of the things they talk about in group is making amends. I’ve already done the whole thing with Jules and I wrote my dad a letter although he may have just thrown it away. All that leaves is… you.”

You had known this was coming but you’d tried to pretend he would skip you. Maybe you thought he’d consider the hour he spent crying into your t-shirt as amends enough.

But you knew it was coming. As much as you wanted to tell him it didn’t matter, he didn’t have to, you knew that it didn’t work that way. He needed this to continue to heal. And you’d meant it when you said whatever it took.

“Come here,” you said gently as you held a hand out to him.

He took it and let you lead him over to the couch. Once both of you were settled, a foot of space between you, you decided to keep your hand in his for support. Whether you were supporting him or the other way around, it didn’t matter. He looked surprised but pleased at the contact.

“I don’t even know where to start. I’m sorry I didn’t let you in after Westworld. I’m sorry I pushed you away and made you worry about me. That I didn’t… didn’t give a fuck about you, just wanted to self destruct in peace.” His other hand grasped yours as well, his hands shaking the slightest bit. “And I can’t begin to to say how sorry I am for the things I said to you.”

You had a flash of it all at once, every hurtful thing he flung your way to push you away. They hurt, but none so much as that last one.

“Logan–”

“No, please, I… I have to say this.”

After a long moment you nodded to tell him to continue. You knew he needed to get through it. You just hoped you could stand to hear it.

“Maybe your parents gave you away, but that doesn’t mean shit. They didn’t know you and that’s their loss. And it’s not like my parents wanted me. And you’re so fucking good at your job, everyone knows it. You’re the best and that company would collapse without you.”

He took a deep breath and you realized he was working up to the worse of it all.

“I nev–never should’ve said that you were pathetic because you’re not. Fact is, I’m the pathetic one. I knew how you felt about me and I just ignored it instead of doing something about it because… I don’t want to fuck the robots instead of you. I fucked them because I couldn’t have you.”

You were shocked silent which was alright since he wasn’t done, but you could hear your heart thundering in your ears.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a few years but I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. And Westworld just showed me that I would never be good enough for you, too much of a fuck up, so I pushed you away. I wanted to destroy all that was good in my life and that meant destroying what I had with you. But even though I’d tried to make you hate me, you still defended me to my dad. You… the things you said… I realized that even if you could never forgive me, I had to get better. You deserved better than me.”

He was crying. This time you were sure of it because the tears were pouring down his cheeks. They were pouring down your cheeks as well.

Without waiting for him to finish, in case he had anything else to say, you reached out and cupped his face in your hands. Once his watery brown eyes met yours, you pulled him in and pressed your forehead to his.

“Logan, I was never… I never hated you. I was never gone from you. I wanted to give you time and space, to get to a place where I could help you. Because I meant it when I said I love you. You’re my best friend.”

He leaned back a bit and you shook your head, knowing what he was thinking. You leaned in close and pressed your lips to his. It was a salty kiss, but the moment he realized what was happening, he took the lead. He tugged you in closer, his mouth trying to devour yours.

“You’re so much more than you think you are,” you whispered against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I need you to know that you are everything to me. My best friend, the man I love, it’s all the same thing to me. And you deserve me just as much as I deserve you.”

His hand came up to cup the back of your neck to angle your head so that he could see your face. His eyes were large as he looked at you in surprise.

“You didn’t know that I’d pick you a hundred times over?”

He laughed and leaned in for another kiss. Each kiss made you shatter all over again, but this time it was different. This time you had something there to put you back together. Just like you would put him back together.

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#logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan delos imagine #logan delos fanfic #my writing #requests

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

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Run To You - Chpt.1

Summary: Bucky has had the day from hell and all he wants is to buy what he needs and get home to his sick kid. Enter Steve Rogers in the wrong place at the wrong time and Bucky’s day goes from bad to mortifying. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: A smidge of bad language, but really ya’ll should expect that from me by now lol

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to start a new adventure with me? I knew I wanted to write a kid!fic with Bucky and Steve but I didn’t expect it to go quite this way until I jokingly called a friend “Captain Clueless” and then couldn’t get that name out of my head in relation to Steve. I fell completely in love with this little universe as I went and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes is not at his finest. He just got off a sixteen hour shift from his job as an ER nurse and can barely keep his eyes open. The shift should have ended four hours earlier, but a tour bus accident had them overwhelmed on what had already been a busy night. Bucky was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep while Becca was at preschool but nope, he came home to a frazzled best friend/ babysitter and a sick four year old. It was always something with Becca, her immune system just wasn’t what it needed to be. Bucky couldn’t fault her for that, she had been born premature and that unfortunately resulted in a whole host of health issues for the little girl. He would never regret adopting her, it was the best decision he’d ever made, but some days parenthood wore on him.

Bucky moves the load of laundry Natasha had started for him into the dryer. It smells clean but there will forever be a slight stain from puke on the ladybug print sheets. He can try his heavy duty stain remover on it later, but he knows there is only so much that can be done for white fabric and bodily fluids. There’s a reason most of his scrubs are black. After checking in on Becca, Bucky begs Natasha to stay a little longer so he can run down to the bodega to pick up a few things for when Becca wakes up. He would have sworn they had an extra bottle of Pedialyte, but apparently they’d used it up during Becca’s last bout with the flu.

Natasha waits patiently, listening to Bucky complain about his shift while he quickly changes out of his scrubs into a pair of soft grey sweats and an old Blink 182 tshirt. She’s been his best friend since their first year of college when they met in Intro to Biology. The two of them have been inseparable ever since, both even choosing to stay in Brooklyn after college instead of going back to where they were from. Natasha’s family was from Russia but traveled a lot so she was happy staying in the city that felt like home to her, and Bucky would have done just about anything to avoid going back to the tiny town in Indiana where his parents were still selling drugs out of their trailer and making each other miserable.

Bucky had thought he was free of his family forever when NYU accepted him into their nursing program. It was his way out of a poverty stricken little town that people rarely escaped from. Bucky had left home at eighteen with no intentions of returning, and he probably never would have, but during his last year of nursing school he found out through Facebook that his thirty eight year old mother was pregnant. To no one’s surprise, his mom was still dealing, still with his deadbeat dad, and was too far along when she found out she was pregnant to have any other option than having the baby. It was a repeat of the situation she’d found herself in at sixteen when she had Bucky. Knowing what it was like to grow up in that house, Bucky couldn’t allow another child to be brought into such a toxic environment. As soon as his mom confirmed the news was true, he hopped on the next flight out to Indiana and started the process to legally adopt his sister once she was born.

When Rebecca Grace Barnes came into the world nine weeks early the doctors said it was a miracle she survived. She was so small, just barely three pounds, and needed to stay in the NICU for just over a month. Bucky had made arrangements with his professors to turn in exams and papers online, barely managing to finish up his nursing degree while biding his time before he could go back to Brooklyn with his baby sister. It had been a wild ride trying to get his nursing career started while caring for a newborn but Natasha had been a life saver. She and their other friend Clint had stepped up in a huge way, helping to watch Becca when he needed to work and daycare wasn’t open. Their schedules had gotten even messier recently when Becca started preschool. Bucky is counting down the days until kindergarten starts so their schedules will align enough for him to only lean on Nat and Clint one or two days a week at most.

“Are you even listening to me?” Natasha throws a balled up Minnie Mouse sock at Bucky who’s too tired to dodge and instead gets a face full of pink fleece.

“Yeah, Nat,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could take off his aching prosthetic but knowing he’ll need both hands for shopping bags. “I’m getting you a choco taco and a red bull this time. I got you.”

Natasha nods happily, completely unphased by Bucky’s eye roll. She’s getting her wake up juice and her crunchy chocolatey sugar, and that is all that matters.

Bucky rushes around the bodega grabbing everything he’ll need to deal with a sick kid, throwing things in the basket without even bothering to check price tags. His bank account will hate him, but he doesn’t exactly have time or options to find the best deals. Grabbing Nat’s items and an iced coffee for himself, he waits in line as an older man chats with the clerk while the teenager rings up his order. The television in the corner is playing the local news, apparently Captain America visited a rec center in Brooklyn recently. There are sound bites from elderly residents and young kids fawning over him, and one of the Captain himself extolling the importance of community and keeping kids off the streets.

Bucky thinks his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head with how hard he rolls them. “This fucking guy.” Bucky grumbles as he places his basket on the counter, unloading his stuff.

The clerk nods in silent agreement.

“I’m sure he was a ‘bright shining beacon of hope’ back in WWII but he has no clue what’s going on in the real word nowadays.” Bucky continues.

The clerk nods once again and Bucky, feeling particularly exhausted and grumpy, yells over at the TV, “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine Captain Clueless!”

“Captain Clueless?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him, “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but that’s a new one.”

Bucky sees the clerk's face go pale and the kid freezes, confirming what Bucky feared when he heard that rich baritone behind him. Oh fuck.

Turning around, Bucky prepares himself for the worst. Instead, he finds an extremely amused looking Captain America holding a bottle of water and a bag of swedish fish.

“I’m… I… I didn’t mean…” Bucky stammers. He doesn’t know how to politely explain I meant every word but never meant for you to hear it.

The register pings as the clerk frantically finishes ringing up Bucky’s order, trying to get both men out of the shop before the situation can get any worse. The sound startles Bucky and he turns around to see the green blinking $58.79 on the little box. His stomach sinks, there went grocery shopping for the week. But, he reasons, Becca won’t want much for a few days while she recovers and he’s no stranger to a ramen-only diet. They’ll get by, just like they always do.

Before Bucky can hand over his last three twenties, a sleek black card taps against the card reader and the machine starts blinking, processing it. Bucky spins around in surprise only to literally face plant into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle that smells like tea tree and mint, yum. Bucky moves backwards in surprise, bumping into the counter but getting himself away from the giant of man who’s also moving backwards after their collision.

“It’s on me.” Steve tells him with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Bucky insists, “I insulted you.”

“You were just being honest.” Steve reasons, “I don’t get to hear people’s honest opinions all that much.”

“That has to be weird.”

Steve chuckles, “Pal, you got no idea.”

“Well, thank you. And I am sorry you heard that.” Bucky collects his bags, still dumbfounded by the whole experience.

“I’d like to hear more about why you said it. Whatever you think it is I’m missing about the twenty-first century. I’m just out for a run so if you don’t mind company on your way back to wherever, maybe we could talk?”

Bucky shakes his head. The man actually wants to learn how to be a better person after being insulted by a random grungey stranger in a bodega. “You really are Captain America.” Bucky murmurs, still stunned.

Steve chuckles again; a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, guilty as charged. But you can just call me Steve.” Steve winks conspiratorially and Bucky thinks he might actually combust. No one should be allowed to be that good looking.

Bucky waits as the cashier rings Steve up for his things and Steve taps his card again to pay. “I thought it was weird enough getting a card that swiped when I came out of the ice, but now this one doesn’t even swipe. It just taps and poof, done.” Steve says with a faint tone of awe.

Bucky can’t imagine how many things Steve needed to adjust to after waking up from the ice. “Far cry from what you were used to, huh?”

“Well, it sure beats keeping coins in old coffee cans.”

Bucky glances over at Steve as they leave the bodega together, “You do that whole ‘awe shucks, man out of time’ thing really well. Is it real though? No offense, you can’t really be that well adjusted. You’re still human.”

Steve meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, crystalline blue piercing into smoke grey-blue, assessing him. After a few beats he decides Bucky is someone who can handle the truth. “It’s a lot easier to do that than to curse up a storm every time some piece of tech pisses me off. Plays out a lot better with the whole Captain America image too.”

“I didn’t think Captain America even knew how to swear.” Bucky teases.

“He doesn’t, but Steve Rogers does. I grew up in Brooklyn, I know how to curse.”

Bucky laughs, swinging his bags idly as they walk in silence for a few steps.

Steve breaks the silence, reminding him of why they’re walking down the street together in the first place, “So really, why do you think I’m so out of touch? Because I thought SHIELD did a bang up job teaching me about the world and what I missed while I was out.”

“I’m sure they did, but SHIELD is still an agency with their own ideas and agendas. I promise you, you got a watered down version of real life. Do me a favor; when you get home look up what they say about The Great Depression and WWII. Do a little research on how we look back at those times. Then think about how it really was back then when you were living it. I would bet you lunch that the two don’t line up.”

“I never thought about it that way.” Steve admits. “I’ll look it up today, promise.”

They arrive on Bucky’s stoop and he climbs up a step, looking down at Steve instead of up at him. He wants to know what Steve thinks once he does some research but doesn’t know how to ask. Luckily, Steve beats him to it.

“I’m going to need your number if you’re taking me out to lunch.” Steve says casually, a light hint of teasing.

Bucky blushes, trying to remind himself that he was the one who threw the lunch bet out there. Steve Rogers would never just ask him out like that. “I… uh… um…” he fumbles anyway.

Steve takes a step back in retreat, his own cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, that was. I’m sorry. You clearly have a sick kid to get back to, and I’m sure a lovely wife waiting for you too.” he motions at Bucky’s bags. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” Steve turns to hurry off and, thankfully, Bucky’s brain catches up with him.

“Steve, no.” he blurts out. “No wife. Sick kid, yes. But no, um, no one else. If you want my number, I’ll give it to you. My schedule is a little weird because of my job but I do want to know what you think when you get done looking things up.”

Steve smiles up at Bucky, soft and hopeful and genuine. It isn’t the All American facade grin he uses for the cameras, and it feels all the more special to Bucky because of it. Steve hands over his phone to Bucky so he can enter in his contact info and then sends him a quick text so Bucky has his number too. “So, I’ll call you later then?” Steve tries, sounding a little unsure still.

“Yeah, I’ll look forward to it, Steve.” Bucky looks up at his doorway, knowing he needs to get back to Becca but not wanting Steve to leave quite yet.

Steve takes the hint and gives him another soft smile and a small wave as he turns and heads off down the bustling city sidewalk.

Bucky stands there a moment, collecting himself and trying to process it all, before hurrying back upstairs to his little apartment to relieve Natasha of babysitting duty.

*** New chapters will be posted on Sunday and Wednesday nights until the fic is complete ***

#stucky #stucky fanfic #shrunkyclunks #modern au #modern day au #steve rogers #captain america #non winter soldier bucky barnes #nurse!bucky #parent!bucky #becca barnes #kid!becca barnes #adopted child #marvel #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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autisticangus · 4 years

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anyway im so out of the loop on the mcelboys

i pretty much only keep semi-up to date with Sawbones at this point, not cuz i dont still LIKE everything else, just a lot has been goin on in my life

if anyone wants a long and rambly update on All Of The Bullshit im gonna stick a read more down here, asks are open and its cool to message me abt any of it if u want cuz i have some really nice and cool followers/mutuals here that make me comfy talkin abt that shit

as far as the future of this blog goes i wanna start using it more again! the mcelroys have gotten me out of some really dark places before so i hope having more connection to this community and the people here and their content again will help me like it has in the past! ill probs post more general mcelroy content here than previously rather than just taz btw i just gotta fuckin uhhhhh,,,, catch up on a bunch of shit again before this blog is even semi active lmaoo but im like alive and on tumblr regularly again!!

Wow u clicked on this and wanna hear me talk? Ur awesome and sweet, thanks for caring!

These past two years have been extraordinarily tough. This is gonna be a pretty long and detailed post that deals with the sensitive topics of emotional abuse, abusive relationships, and alcoholism. Please read on with caution.

Back in March of 2019, so this was about 3-4 months after i left tumblr, I got a new boyfriend and things started out really good, he was kind of a "bad boy" and it was fun at first. Im kind of a goody-goody so it was very interesting for me at first to be with someone so different who had such different life experiences than me. I liked hearing his stories of living in a traphouse, and running with gangs, and selling drugs, and knowing people who had killed people. I assumed a LOT of it was lies, obviously, who just brags about that shit u know? I just rolled with it, didnt take it seriously, and found the imagined scenarios interesting to listen to. So much of it was obviously played up to make him seem cooler, and I shouldve seen that as the red flag it was, and all my friends did but I didnt.

He had a serious alcohol problem, I mean I had coffee in the morning and he had 2 four lokos before noon. it was bad. about 6 months into the relationship he decided i was cheating on him with my ex who i had recently reconnected with, we missed being friends and things were really going well talking and being friends again, he was really important to me! but my boyfriend saw this as yet another thing i was doing wrong. when he decided i was cheating, that become his focus of alcoholic rage. nearly every time he got drunk, which was several times a week, he would accuse me of things, he would yell and scream, he would call me horrible names and make me cry for literal hours, he never hit me but that shouldnt even matter, i was emotionally battered and mentally bruised and everything hurt. he gaslit me into believing i said and did things i never said or did, i admitted to things that were not real, and then i was yelled at for admitting them. i didnt know what to do.

he was threatening my ex too, he would get drunk and say he knew where he lived (he didnt) or he knew what car he drove (he didnt) and explained to me many times that although he had never killed someone, people had been killed before at his command. he said a bullet in the back of my ex’s brain was just a phone call and $500 away. somedays he would tell me he was just going to do it himself, with a hammer, or a kitchen knife, or whatever weapon he could get his hands on during his explanation of how he would do it. my only option was to agree, to say it didnt matter to me what happened to him, i had to pretend my on

/ly concern was him going to jail for the crime, if i showed any sign that i didn’t want my ex murdered, it clearly meant i was cheating on him.

i pretended to block my ex on social media to get him off my back and it worked a little bit but he still brought it up. and even if he didnt directly mention him, he would always tell me when he was drunk that i was the cause of all his problems, i was why he was so self conscious, i was why he drank so much, i was why he had to work so hard, i was why every single issue he had was happening. logically i knew it was wrong, but i was so conditioned to it by then that i just went with it. i knew that agreeing and apologizing made the fighting end quicker.

things spiraled this past summer. his job needed us to relocate so we moved like 4 states away, away from all my family and friends, and lived in a tiny hotel room for a month. during this time, his drinking was somehow worse. he was drunk literally every night but he was passing out so we didnt fight and i was relieved. i was depressed being stuck in the hotel room all day alone, but thankful i wasnt being abused at least. then he started getting into drunken fistfights with his coworkers in the hotel parking lot. one day he came home just in time to find one of his drunk coworkers trying to break into the room with me there desperately trying to keep him out. i was terrified and wanted to go home but he convinced me to stay. a couple weeks after that we travelled for his work again several more states away. his drinking got a little bit better here, but i was so depressed and lonely, i was so isolated, he was all i saw day in and day out besides his coworkers and i was nervous around them. one day the guy who tried to break in on me, purposefully, while drunk, hit another coworkers car and totaled it and tried to run the guy over and i saw the whole thing. a week later my boyfriend was also fired because he got so drunk he passed out in the hotel parking lot and the company needed to save face with the hotel after the whole car incident.

so we travelled back home, but not my home, to his where we lived isolated on a mountain with no phone signal or wifi. the house was old and not well kept from being empty for several years, half the appliances didnt work. i was more isolated than i have ever been in my life. for 4 months i stayed there and just dreaded him coming home because i knew he would be drunk again and he'd yell or accuse me of things or otherwise belittle me. it was horrible. my friends all said to leave and my parents said to leave but i was so brainwashed into thinking that if i was just a good little housewife and if i just stayed home and did the dishes and the laundry that he would be nicer but he still found things to point at and say i was cheating. he was also becoming really controlling about my food intake and weight and i already struggle with an eating disorder so that just made me feel even more like i had to stay, my brain felt like if i wasnt under his watchful eye id gain weight again, like somehow it was thanks to him i had lost weight and not my own choices.

one day last week i expressed to him wanting to leave, saying how unhappy i was, i told him how sad i felt and how i didnt think we were such a good match. he didnt take me seriously, so the next day when he got sloppy drunk before 5 pm i packed a small bag and went to my moms. i was just gonna stay for a night or two but he called and screamed at me for leaving without telling him, i told him he just didnt remember me telling him because he was so drunk, and he accused me of not caring about his feelings and made me sound like the bad guy for leaving without his permission. i told him it was just for a few days but the angrier he got the more i knew i was in the right and told him i was done. i told him we were breaking up and id come get my stuff soon.

i got my stuff while he was at work this past weekend and moved in with my best friend. im safe and happy now. things are looking so much better for me and im so thankful to my friends and family who supported me all the way to the end.

i just wanted to make this post because, i know its not mcelroy related, and a lot of ppl probably dont care for stuff like this on this kind of blog, but i think its important.

its important to friends and family of people in abusive relationships to be steady. dont give up your ground. even if the person keeps pushing back and wont leave the person, keep being there for them, it can take a long time, it took me almost 2 years to leave, it takes some people even longer, but just stay there for them and be there for them when they finally make that step. dont give up on them.

and to those who have been in these kinds of relationships, and especially those who are there right now: it is not your fault. it is so, so hard to leave, i know, but please try to find help and support and resources to do it. if all your friends dont like someone, theres a good reason for it. please dont fall into the trap of thinking your friends dont have the best intentions for you. there are so many things you may overlook in the moment that others can see from a mile away are horrible. especially if you have been abused in the past. its incredibly hard to tell what is a red flag when your gut instinct is that anything and everything is a red flag. surround yourself with people who you can trust and listen to them

and trust me, i know how hard it is when youre stuck in that spot of KNOWING you should go but fearing that first step away. its scary. its difficult. but it is worth it. find someone safe you can be with. and if you arent sure, find a reason to leave for just a few days, an excuse, anything. give yourself space from the abuser, tell yourself youre going back in a couple days, just get out from under the thumb long enough to clear your head and things will make more sense with the fog lifted.

when i first got in my car and put my kitten on my lap and told her we were going to my moms for a couple nights, i didnt know if that was the truth. i planned to come back and i knew i didnt want to. i only took enough stuff for a couple days. i couldnt imagine my life changing so drastically. where would i live? how would i make money? who take care of me? i had no clue about any of those things. but after a couple days away I realized i would take care of me. i remembered that i had worked jobs before i was with him, i could do it again. i remembered that i had options of where to live. all of those things were so clouded when i was with him, they felt like impossibilities. once i was away, even just for a short time, things were so much easier to parse.

and i know i had many privileges in this journey not everyone is afforded, and my heart goes out to those who read this and are in this situation and the options i had just arent accessible to you, i am so sorry, i wish i had something more to offer you but all i have is my story, and a wish that it gives you some hope at the very least, and a promise that if you need someone to talk to, im here, i will listen, and you will be heard and loved.

i just want everyone who reads to take something small but important away from it. love your friends, love yourself. please stay safe. please dont give up. remember love should not hurt.

#angus.txt #getting deep in here but it felt good to write #i love u all so much ok pls be good urselves

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