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realcube · 3 years

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comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him,

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

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ninnodesu · 3 years

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“More Than One Use” || Jealous Thomas

AN: I’m finally done with the pollwinning short/smutfic! It was really fun letting you guys choose my next shortfic and if you guys liked doing that, I might do it again! Please do let me know if that's something you would like, because I have a BUNCH of titles! This has NOT been beta read by any betareader! Thank you, @your-local-possum for giving me the idea/inspiration for this one! Reblogs are always appreciated!

Genre: smut, 18+, fem!reader. Warnings: Bondage, dubcon, like real dubcon, somewhat graphic depiction of violence, mentions of cannibalism, creampie, jealousy, mentions of blood, forced to watch, lowkey forced orgasm? I have no idea and a really bad joke. Please ignore the joke, I had to google bad jokes to find it. This has also NOT been beta read.

*** *** *** ***

For you, this was punishment. Punishment for forgetting who you belonged to.

For Thomas, this was proof. A way to claim you as his in front of the man who had shamelessly flirted with you and lured the kind of giggle from your throat that he knew wasn’t fake.

Thomas was going to make sure you’d never forget who you belonged to.

You sigh as you look out over the barn floor at how much you actually had to clean after today’s brawl with a new group of dinner guests. You always did prefer when Thomas made it quick. Like snapping their necks or literally anything other than shoving his entire chainsaw through a poor person’s chest. Because that always meant more cleaning to do. A groan crawled from your throat as you went off to fill the bucket of water used for scrubbing the floor. Your mind wanders back to that joke you’d heard by one of the men now waiting to be butchered.

“Turn that frown upside down, sweetheart.”, the man had said. You played along, knowing your role in the family is to lure victims in.

“Tell you what…”, you replied, throwing a glance over his shoulder when you saw a huge shadow in the living room window, making you put a hand to the stranger’s chest and push him towards the house. “If you make me laugh, I’ll invite you into my house and you’ll meet my parents.” He raised an eyebrow as it connected in his mind what you implied. “ Alright… Why are there gates around cemeteries?”, he says while barely keeping it together. “ I don’t know… Why are there gates around cemeteries?”, you reply, internally laughing at the fact that the family recently did put up a gate at the edge of the property. “ Because people are dying to get in”.

And you laughed.

It was such a stupid joke but it’d still hit you straight on your giggle nerve. Something Thomas had not appreciated. You’d ended up fighting about you laughing a joke, him thinking you would leave him for it. His jealousy had really bubbled over then. Him being convinced that you were fully ready to leave him and the family. There had been yelling, a cup was thrown close to his head by you, and doors slammed behind him. The biggest fight between you two this far in your relationship, and was about a joke.

As you expected, it took almost three full hours to finish cleaning the floors and walls of the barn clear of blood. Wiping your brow clean of sweat, you groan as you realize you’d just used the same rag you cleaned the walls with, your brow now having a clear streak of blood. Ah well…, you thought. You’re used to blood by now anyway. Suddenly, you feel a pair of big meaty hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up.

“THOMAS!”, you yelp out as he just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Thomas! Let me go!”, you punch him hard at his back, kicking your legs wildly and doing everything in your power to get away from his grip.

One kick connected with him hard in the ribs making him groan slightly at the sudden pain.

“I’m done with you today, Hewitt! We’re done! Fuck you!”, you’re so pissed at him. Still pissed about the fact that he dared to think you were going to leave him. You’ve worked so hard these past years to help him overcome his jealousy, and then he goes and acts like this over a joke. But he doesn’t care about your words, only increasing his grip around your waist and growls at you, his own way of telling you to shut up.

The basement is cool, bordering on cold and you shiver as Thomas sets you down on the blood-drenched table. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him as he walks over to one of the supportive beams where all the meat hooks hang. All you can do is watch him as he prepares one of the hooks, as he always does right before hanging cattle up.

Your blood runs cold and your heart rate picks up.

"T-To-...Tommy, what are you doing?", you're only met with dark blue eyes. "Honey, come on.", you laugh nervously as he stalks over to you, his eyes flicker over you for a second, but you're fast enough to catch it. Turning your head, you follow where he was looking. In one of the slightly lit corners, you saw the man who made you giggle earlier, still alive, naked, and ready to be butchered. A hook pierced between his shoulder blades, a big bucket under him to catch the blood being drained from him, blood steadily dripping from slits in his wrists. Seems Luda Mae was planning on making blood sausage later.

You turn your head back to look at your giant, who was now standing right in front of you. His hands balled into fists, shoulders heaving with every breath he takes. He’s furious, and his eyes make you cower under the shadow he casts over you. “Th-Thomas?”, you try again, desperate to know what’s going on in his mind. Your breath gets caught in your throat when he with lightning speed grabs your jaw in a firm grip before he growls at you again. Again telling you to shut up, and all you can do is swallow and do your best to nod at his command. With a heart beating like a panicked bird behind your ribs, thoughts of death start creeping in your mind. You’ve seen him angry before, of course, just not with anger directed at you. Never has he forcefully brought you down into the basement like cattle and never has he directed the preparation of meat hooks at you.

As the hand at your jaw disappears, he yanks you off the table, even if you’re standing upright he still towers over you. His shadow imposing, sending chills down your spine. All you can do is look up at him and when you do; you’re transported back to the first time you met him.

How he loomed over you, the only one in your group who didn’t shriek as he approached you even though your friend told you to run. You couldn’t. The first thing that caught you were his eyes, those blue soulful eyes that told you of hurt, of love, and betrayal. Eyes that swam with unspoken emotions, thoughts, and feelings, but also of someone strong and loyal. The only difference then compared to now being that now those eyes were shrouded in shadow, only a dark silhouette of a brute stood before you. You saw him as the cattle saw him: Like death itself.

Suddenly, big hands take hold of your wrists and a rope is twisted around them. You hiss as he pulls the rope closed in a tight knot. Your brain together with your heart starts racing a million miles an hour at what he’s planning, and for the first time in years, he’s actually scaring you. It’s when that realization hits that you start feeling tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Your gentle giant scared you. The notion that this is the day you die hits you and you scream as he hangs you up on the meathook, the sharp edge cutting open a small slit on your arm as he maneuvers to hang you by the rope tied around your wrists.

You try talking to him again when he steps back and observes you.

"Hun, p-please, it's me. I-I'm sorry!". Panic sets in as you see how the gears in his head start turning, but all he does is stand there, looking you up and down before he walks behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel a warm hand slowly glide from your lower back and up around your ribs under your shirt, stopping just under one of your breasts. He tickles you slightly as he drags his thumb just under it, lazily tracing the shape of it. That’s when Thomas remembers why he had forcefully brought you down here. His hand envelops your neck and he can’t help but smirk when he hears you whimper at the contact.

Thomas actually wasn't all that furious, maybe a little annoyed, but mostly; he was jealous. And he felt an urge and a carnal instinct deep inside him to punish you and to remind you who you belonged to. Remind you that no one could ever make you feel like he could. The hand not wrapped around your throat took a firm grip on the breast he traced earlier and massaged it a way he knew would make you melt.

Sure enough, his attention to the soft flesh and his rolling of the nipple between two fingers lured a small sigh from your lungs. And when you felt his teeth suddenly graze that one spot on your neck, you moaned. He knew your body so well. You tried wiggling away from the hook, however, not wanting to do this in the basement, where the carnage took place and where people got slaughtered. But as you did, the hand around your neck got tighter.

A warning. And you relaxed. Your eyes snapped towards a groan coming from across the room. The man who had flirted with you was waking up. It seems as though Thomas also heard him because he lifted his head from the spot on your neck he'd been attacking. You took a big gulp of air when the hand around your neck vanished and sobbed quietly as the giant of a man pulled your pants down in one vicious movement.

"Tom-... please don't. Not here." Any tries to get through to him were met with a growl as he grabbed you around your waist and pulled your back against his chest. Suddenly, a burning sensation on your neck made you scream. He bit you. Hard.

His teeth came down hard enough to draw blood. It wasn't until now that you fully understood; Thomas was pissed at you. And now you got your punishment. Your punishment for laughing at that joke, for letting that stranger, that piece of meat, get close enough to you to make that joke. Sure, you’re supposed to lure people into false security, a false sense of home, and a promise of something cold to drink to get them close enough for Tommy to do his job. But apparently, this time your job had been too good.

Thomas groaned slightly as he heard you whimper as the stinging sensation of his tongue dragging over the bleeding bite marks registered in your brain. He disappeared into his head in the midst of marking you as his.

You’re mine. His inner voice growled as the grip around your waist was hard enough for his dull nails to leave marks.

And I’m going to remind you. The clinking sound of his belt made him grin at the full-body shiver running through you.

If I so have to fuck you until you can’t walk. Another long lick over your neck made you exhale a shuddering breath as his strong arm lifted one of your legs.

And until you scream my name loud enough to wake the dead.

The fingers on the hand not holding your leg up were pushed into your mouth, making you suck on them. You obeyed, swirling your tongue around them, feeling the coppery taste of blood invade your mouth making you shut your eyes, and doing your best to not gag. When he felt you’ve wet them enough, the hand disappeared downwards and you tensed as he pushed them into your cunt. Even if this was only supposed to be a punishment for you and a reminder for him, he didn’t have the heart to actually hurt you. He barely prepared you for him and a loud and raspy moan came from his throat as you screamed loud when he forcefully pushed himself into your - wet enough - cunt. It was a stretch, a stretch that you’ve felt so many times, and that you usually loved more than anything.

As he started moving, tears started streaming down your cheeks. But you weren’t fully sure if they were from pleasure, pain, or a mixture of both at this point. Thomas is never this forceful with you. Sure, he can be rough when he wants to be. But he always makes sure you’re fully prepared for him, not today. Today he seemed content in just feeling any kind of wetness actually existing.

Thomas grunts as he feels you tighten around him at the same time he, once again, bites down on your neck. And the more he thrusts and pounds into you, the more both of you feel the ever-growing wetness and arousal gather inside of you. He growls when you try to reason with him again;

"To-... Tommy… it hurts!"

When you wiggle your body against the meat hook holding you firmly in place, he moves one hand up to your jaw and makes you look at the man whimpering across the room. His own twisted arousal fully on display at the scene happening in front of him. Every thrust he made into you was hard, deep, and spoke of demands. "I- I'm sorry!", you sob. You were just crying now. You didn't care about the reason anymore. "I didn't mean it, Tommy!", his cock hit you just right and you clenched around him by reflex, causing him to groan.

You better be sorry. He told himself in his head.

Releasing your jaw and taking a firm hold of your hips. Angling you and him to help him hit your g-spot and you wailed as he started moving harder against it. The place where the rope dug into your wrists was starting to burn and you knew you’d be red and sore after this. Thomas got lost in his pleasure as he felt that familiar feeling of his climax creeping up on him. Making him forget about "punishing" you, now he needed to feel you cum around his cock, making him snake one hand to your front, quickly finding your clit.

You moaned as his fingers rubbed you in a way he knew would have you cumming in no time.

There you are. You thought as you recognized your sweet Tommy as he gave attention to the one spot that needed him the most. But what really set you off was hearing him demanding you to do one thing: "Cum.", his member ramming against your g-spot, his finger rubbing quick circles around your clit and that deep and raspy voice had you shaking. Screaming his name and thanking whatever higher power existed that the rest of the family wasn't home as you came, hard enough to see dots dance in your vision. The feeling of your cramping walls around him made Thomas’s movements stutter to a halt as he came in you, letting out a loud moan into your ear while emptying everything he had in you.

Coming down from you high, you remembered your audience.

The man straight across from the room was still looking at you both, his face red and eyes almost popping out of his skull. Glancing down his body, you saw why as his own member twitched post-climax. And over your shoulder, you felt Thomas tilting his head up, radiating both pride and anger. Pride at how he knew that skinny twig of a man would never have made you feel like he did, and anger because this… piece of meat had orgasmed because he had watched you.

You turned your head towards Tommy and tenderly kissed any part you could reach, mumbling how much you loved him and that no man could ever change your feelings for him before telling him to end the sad existence of the man bleeding out. Thomas playfully growled and nipped at your earlobe making you giggled before he with pure possession whispered;

"You're mine."

#ninno og #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfiction #tcm: the beginning #smut #pwp #n*sfw #18+#tcm #tcm fanfiction #More Than One Use #tommy is jellyyyyy #I'm finally done with it

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theladyismyshepard · 3 years

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2 of prompt hope? The brunette Cassandra has a maiden for a pet for now, But another maiden is in love with her?? inspired by robyn dancing on my own. Angst? Good ending or however you end it?

I love that song 😍 I totally got you, my friend, thank you for the prompt!

Warning: sex, blood, violence, honestly, 18+ only

So Far Away, But Still So Near

There were three things that were common knowledge to those who lasted more than a few weeks as a maid within Castle Dimitrescu (there weren’t many familiar faces however).

One was that the hallways of the castle echoed with the wails of the dying, and it was to be none of their business to be snooping into... There was a maid who panicked when she heard screaming for the first time, and it wasn’t moments later that hers mixed melodically with the next.

Second, a maid is not allowed to make a single mistake in their duties, or in the presence of the Dimitrescu family. The maid who made the mistake of opening up the curtains a mere peek was dragged down to the cellar, never to be seen again.

And lastly... you were the only maiden allowed to live a trapped life above the cellar where men and young women stuttered out their last breathes before becoming a constant drip that always sent you to your initial awakening inside a cage that was seeping blood from every corner.

When you had blinked slowly, allowing your eyes time to adjust to lantern light, you caught sight of a smile so twisted, you couldn’t say for sure it wasn’t a frown. There was blood that painted those lips, red and shining in the dancing light. Golden eyes glowed as they bore into you with such intensity, you thought for sure she would eat you alive.

Brown hair cascaded down to her chest, and it was wild and untamed. If she looked as unkempt as she was, you briefly wondered how bad your appearance must look, subconsciously reaching up to run your fingers through greasy locks of hair, grimacing when they snagged on a tangle.

You became acutely aware that your clothes had been changed for you. Gone were your regular clothes, and in their place was nothing more than a silk nightgown, even your underwear had been stolen right off your body. You felt exposed under her gaze.

“You smell irresistible,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the bars of your cage.

Fear plagued you, prompting your heart to stutter in your chest. It brought a laugh from the brunette, and a shiver went through you that you couldn’t fully comprehend. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly smirked, teeth on display. Some looked sharp enough to kill... the teeth of a predator.

“You’re quite a beauty, aren’t you?” she drawled lecherously, her eyes roaming your nearly exposed body.

“Have you seen yourself?” you went for flattery at this point, and you knew you chose the right route when her face went slack for a moment before bursting out into a laugh.

“And a charmer, too?”

The door to your cage opened, her eyes never leaving you. She slowly swayed her hips alluringly with every step she took towards you, her smirk unwavering. She had you cornered and fearful as she stood over you, a sickle in hand. What was she planning to do?

You felt a sharp stinging as you felt your flesh tear suddenly. The cool touch of metal pressed against the cut on your lower thigh, and you grimaced when you felt grime dig into your skin. Blood coated the blade of her sickle, and she withdrew before bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, and she slowly dragged her tongue along the length of the blade, her eyes staring into yours.

“By far my favorite delicacy,” she moaned, her eyes darkening to nearly black.

You had felt something stirring in the pit of your stomach as warmth flooded your core at the sound that came from her mouth. She sniffed audibly, an eyebrow arched in interest at your reaction.

“My, oh my, you continue to intrigue me.” she turned her chin up, examining you in a way that felt as though she were looking down on you. “Here you are, trapped alone in blood and darkness and yet... I can smell your need.”

You felt a streak of defiance rush through your chest, but you bit your tongue, knowing you’d lose the war trying to win a battle. She had complimented you in a couple ways, but what she hasn’t shown appreciation for was your brain and wits.

“You intrigue me as well.” you admitted, confused by it.

The brunette chuckled wickedly, almost entertained, and you supposed it was in your favor to be capable of entertaining her. When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she ogled you once again, you hoped the gleam in her eye was a good thing.

“My name is Cassandra... I will give you time... and I will show you why that is a very bad idea.”

You blinked the memory away as you always did. That was nearly a year ago, and you would stride every day to prove your worth within the castle, knowing your virginity tethered you to a life of uncertainty as you lived among those who preyed on innocence.

To this day, you still didn’t know what kept you alive and working as a maid for the Dimitrescu family. You could tell Cassandra’s sisters weren’t overly thrilled with having something so tempting wandering within the walls, just within reach, and being unable to defile... What had you the most unsure was the tension between Cassandra and her gigantic mother.

Lady Dimitrescu would always inhale deeply when you leaned in to pour their wine during dinner. What keeps me alive? You couldn’t answer, and you weren’t sure who could. You had originally thought it was Cassandra’s influence and interest in you seeing as she had helped you out of the cellar, but she hardly looked at you when you waited on their every want and need.

The only thing you could say for her was that she didn’t snap at you like she violently did with the other maids, or even with her own sisters when one was pushed too far. She never said please or thank you, but her requests weren’t as sharp as they could be, which were few and far between.

What really had you thinking you were going crazy was the day you stood perfectly still by the far wall along with a couple other maids, unseen but at the ready should the family have a demand, and you heard Cassandra announce that she had a new pet in the cellar. The wild giggles from her sisters and the smirk from Alcina had a spring coiling tightly in your gut, and you could’ve sworn you were familiarized with the white-hot anger surging through your chest.

You couldn’t comprehend why you felt so flustered over Cassandra having someone else holding her attention. You could hardly call it “making you feel special”, but you could’ve sworn there was something about you that got you farther than most maidens who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped within the castle.

Your hand balled into a fist and you were subconsciously wearing a deep frown. You also didn’t catch the way multicolored eyes caught the look you were sporting or the triumphant smirk that followed. All you could do was stare at your feet and hope you didn’t bring attention to yourself, that’s all any of the maids did.

“Do not neglect your pet for too long, Cassandra.” said Alcina, dabbing her chin before she arose from the table.

“I’m going, mother,” promised Cassandra, bowing her head.

You watched as the Lady seemed to escort the entire room out of the dining area. Bela silently trailed behind her mother, hardly sparing any of the servants a glance on her way out. Daniela was still nibbling on a piece of something that you did not want to think about. Her eye met yours and she smiled toothily.

“Bye bye,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You shivered and she laughed as she walked out, and that only left Cassandra. She seemed to hypnotically sway her hips with each step she took as she followed her family. Your slight daze was broken by her throaty chuckle, and you already know you’ve been caught staring.

“Another time,” came her velvety voice, and you cursed your body for reacting before your brain could. Your eyes were glued to her ass the entire time she left.

It was quite pitiful really, how she could turn you to mush with words alone, all while her chin dribbled with blood from her fresh meal; and after she just spoke of her new plaything no less. What the fuck is wrong with me? What made it worse was that Cassandra was well aware of that fact.

What had you knowing you had gone crazy was when you couldn’t help the hatred you felt towards Cassandra’s new pet that seemed to be lingering around... since when did you start referring to living as lingering?

The pet always trailed after Cassandra, clinging to her side as if she were salvation. You remember a point in time where you thought she was your salvation. You passed them in the halls together, she was seated at Cassandra’s feet during “tea time” with the family, you could hear her moaning when you would passed by Cassandra’s room.

The wide, fearful eyes of the poor, young woman made you sick when they landed on you pleadingly. Oh how you wished to be in her place and yet here she was, afraid. You felt nothing over the tears that fell from her cheeks and landed on the bruises littering her bare thighs.

You felt like a monster.

Like what everything that could make you human had been burned away with hatred and negativity and darkness. It left you a hollow shell as you lost all sense of who you used to be. You felt chewed up and spit out and forced to work with what you had left.

Why were you still alive?

It was the same question bouncing in your head every day, yet you were no closer to finding the answer now, than you were the day before. At what point do you just give up? At what point do you just accept the desolate feeling gripping you until your final breath? Would death actually be a blessing over the lack of existence in Castle Dimitrescu?

That was the real question you had unfortunately began to live by. Your perfect touch to every duty assigned to you was slacking. It was imperceptible at first to all except Cassandra, but she bit her tongue, instead, choosing to keep her eyes glued to you every time you were in close proximity.

Your change in character went unnoticed until it became very obvious. Your rapid response became slower, almost outwardly showing how much you didn’t care to be there. Your attention to detail slipped as well as you started forgetting little things here and there during your duties.

Your steadiness shook when you served them, and wouldn’t you know it, your hand finally slipped one evening when you were pouring crimson tea into Daniela’s cup. The stream hit the lip of the cup and dripped onto her robe. You barely had time to register the shriek before something sharp slashed across your face, sending you to the floor.

All you could focus on was the stinging along your cheek and the bridge of your nose. You didn’t hear four different long inhales. You didn’t hear growling. You certainly didn’t hear Cassandra jerking Daniela’s arm until she faced her and the reverberating slap that followed.

“Never touch what isn’t yours!”

You did hear that shriek, and it had you finally looking up, taking in the scene. Blood was smeared all across your palm, and it was still flowing freely down your face, into your mouth, down your chin... You felt like you were served right on a platter for them.

You just felt a small sense of relief that Lady Dimitrescu’s narrowed eyes weren’t directed at you. They were mere slits and the frown lines showed her clear distaste. Her gaze was settled on Cassandra towering over Daniela’s shocked, still-seated form. Then the Lady’s gaze shifted to Cassandra’s pet, cowering away and watching the display with fright and confusion. It wasn’t long before her eyes were glued on you, leaving you glued to the floor.

“Cassandra,” her voice was eerily calm, but anyone with the sense of hearing could detect the cold fury hidden away. “You are only allowed one.”

Your eyes cut to Cassandra in time to see the dark rage swirling in hers, and you could see how feral she was becoming. You knew she was passed the point of rationality, there was no clear and coherent thought in her head... things were about to get sloppy and you were very afraid.

So afraid that it didn’t make a lick of sense when Cassandra took her silverware and lodged it straight into her pet’s chest. The sight of the young woman gurgling and choking on her own blood had you ensnared. You couldn’t look away, your eyes wide and unblinking in shock as she slumped and gasped and cried. You didn’t even feel the ones spilling down your cheeks.

“Do not ever touch my pet again.” warned Cassandra, hissing straight at her sister before turning to you. “Come... now!”

You scrambled, forcing your paralyzed joints to move. She was already stalking out of the room, dragging you by your wrist once you were on your feet. You apologized every time you tripped or stumbled, but silenced yourself when she snapped after the fifth time.

You weren’t sure what to feel after watching her kill her pet right in front of you. Cassandra was callous and a flat out sadist, she enjoyed working the screams from her victims, but she was acting purely deranged now. You wanted to ask where she was taking you, but common sense was telling you it was to her bedroom.

And you didn’t have time to catch up mentally before you were pulled through the doorway of her room and slammed against the door when she closed it. Cassandra’s tongue was immediately drawing a line from your chin all the way up to your forehead, cleaning a trail of blood and then some, leaving you a quivering mess.

She was moaning as she buried her face in your neck, her fangs piercing into your flesh. You yelped, your body jolting back against the door. She giggled madly, and it was your turn to moan out.

“Such a delicacy,” she whispered out before switching sides and biting into the other side.

You couldn’t help but shout again, even though you were prepared for it.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m just making sure they all know who is allowed to touch you.”

She returned to suckling greedily at your blood, but her hand was trailing up your shirt until she roughly cupped your breast, her thumb rubbing small circles around your nipple. You squirmed against the door, but gasped when she scooped you up and dropped you onto her bed, her eyes alight.

“You are only allowed to follow my orders now, you will not tend to my sisters any further.” demanded Cassandra, straddling your thighs and literally tearing the maid’s uniform from your body.

“Command me, Mistress,” you moaned out, finally allowing yourself to get into what was happening, and you were rewarded for your comment by lips crashing into yours, a tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth.

One hand returned to massaging your breast, and her mouth placed open mouthed kisses along your throat and collarbone before finally reaching your nipple, where she latched on.

You gasped, your head throwing back and your eyes slamming closed as her tongue swirled around the pink bud, sucking as roughly as she did when she fed from you. You’ve been deprived for so long that all you could do was squirm as warmth spread through your gut and dripped slickly down your thigh.

Her other hand grew tired of kneading your other nipple, and found itself teasing down your pubic bone before rubbing the same circles her tongue was drawing around your nipple with her fingers around your clit.

“Cassandra!” You groaned, your hands in her hair, keeping her where she was.

She bit down, and if she drew blood, it was licked away before you could tell. The fingers that were rubbing you were soon dipping inside, your wetness aiding her in sliding in. It was driving you crazy with sensory overload, and your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly in your fists.

She hooked your leg around her hip to make it easier to thrust her fingers deeper inside of you. Your breath stuttered in your chest as pressure built inside of you. It started in the pit of your stomach, but warmth was spreading all throughout your body now, and she gave a few final pumps, you were coming around her, calling out her name as your body tightened and released.

She didn’t have time to let you recover before she was climbing up your body, settling herself comfortably on your face. You happily went to work on her, your tongue lashing out and licking along her clit. You didn’t give yourself time to relish in her moans before you buried your tongue deep inside of her, altering between flattening it and flicking it hard along her walls.

You felt her trembling around your tongue and it had you feeling deeply satisfied. Cassandra panted as one hand gripped the headboard, using it to help her ride your face, the other was woven into your hair, keeping you in place as well.

For all the moans you pulled from her, she came silently down your chin before sliding off, falling back onto her side beside you, head propped up on her hand, staring down at you. Now she was relishing in watching you recover from your activities. As you came down from your high, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Why am I still alive?”

She blinked down at you, clearly not expecting that question, but she wasn’t snapping at you so you were good. She took on a thoughtful look before she smirked down at you, crawling back on top of you.

“You are still intrigued by me and fortunately for you, I am still intrigued by you.” She said in between kisses down your body.

She paused when she hovered over where you needed her most.

“I’ll warn you though... I lose interest fast.”

And continued to show just how interested she was in the now. Lucky you.

#bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters headcanons #lady dimitrescu's daughters #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu’s daughters x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #prompt fill

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zabiume · 3 years

Note

I love the series you did on Renji and Orihime and their silliness!! Could I ask for a prompt where we can see more of them but also Ichigo and Rukia shenanigans too? I love the IH/RR foursome and love your writing too!

Title. Knot In Love (Read on AO3)

Pairing(s): RenHime Brotp, IchiRuki brotp, Renruki, IchiHime

Summary: Newly-married Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji have never been shy about expressing gratitude to Kurosaki Ichigo for all he's done for them in their long journey of getting back together again. But when the ever-turbulent substitute shinigami approaches them with a favor to ask, chances are they'll find themselves roped in for more than they bargained for.

“I need your help.”

Rukia peered up from the shoujo she was reading, narrowing her eyebrows at Ichigo suspiciously. She was on paid vacation and the vampire was about to confess to the human girl so whatever this was about better have been serious enough to rouse her from her afternoon lazing or there would be prices to pay. “What did you do?”

Ichigo frowned. “I didn’t do anything,” he insisted, a little offended. Behind the veneer of his typical Ichigo-isms however, she did notice his ears were slightly pink.

She sat up immediately. Uh-oh. “What are you about to do?”

Ichigo coughed behind one hand, then stared Rukia dead in the eyes. “I need you to, uh, help get Orihime’s ring size for me.” He turned to face the wall, hands determinedly shoved in his pocket.

Rukia’s eyes widened, a range of mercurial emotions crossing her at an intense speed, too fleeting for her to catalogue any of them permanently. She chucked the book at him, hitting him square in the head.

“Ow!” He ducked under his hands in pain, blinking away a few tears as the hard-edge of the book rammed into his noise. “What’s your problem, Rukia?”

“What’s my problem?” Rukia demanded, standing up so she could tug his collar. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, you jerk, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were proposing to Orihime?!” She paused, then turned on her heel with a devious grin that Ichigo really didn’t like. “When? Where? How? Can I be there?”

“No,” he replied automatically, crossing his arms. She blew her tongue out at him rather crassly in response. “Listen, can you help me or not? I’m kinda freaking out here.”

She cooled down, shoulders slumping. “What have you got so far?” she asked gently.

He fished his hand in his pocket and brought out a little plastic ring with a ruler attached to its curve. “Bought a ring-sizer to do it when she was asleep,” he said. “But she’s been busy at the bakery so I haven’t had the opportunity to take a lot of naps with her.”

Rukia nodded grimly. “What about asking Arisawa? Or that other girl...what was her name? Chizuru?”

Ichigo made an impatient face and clicked his teeth, like he’d already gone over this. “Tatsuki doesn’t know and Chizuru doesn’t want to tell me.” He towered over Rukia, rattling her back and forth with both hands on her shoulders. “This is why I need you to do it for me.” He froze. “Hey, how did Renji do it?”

“He asked Orihime,” Rukia replied simply, with a shrug.

“So you...should know her size,” Ichigo said slowly, eyebrow twitching. “Right?”

“Nope,” Rukia said, much to his annoyance. “Don’t look at me like that, Ichigo, we went jewellery shopping a long time ago, how the hell was I supposed to remember?”

"She clearly remembered yours!" Ichigo yelled, throwing his hands up dramatically.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "It's Orihime. She remembers everything," she excused. "Look, just relax. I'll find a way to get the information, just...just stop looking like you're gonna burst, it's scaring me."

"Okay," Ichigo replied, visibly relaxing.

Rukia bit her lip. She had a few Ideas formulating already, some of which she would need some assistance with. But until then...

"Can I come ring-shopping once we're done?"

Ichigo shook his head, already picking up his phone so he could start making other arrangements. "Sorry, Ishida called dibs on that one. He’s more excited than my dad is, if you can believe it."

He began leaving his room, shrugging on his jacket with one hand, holding his phone with the other.

Rukia stared after his figure, fuming. Then,

"Ishida?! You picked Ishida over me?!" she called after him, shaking one fist in puny rage.

"We'll take you cake-tasting!" he called out dismissively, from the bottom of the stairs.

Rukia opened her mouth, then closed it. She...could live with that. She fished into her pocket-dress, fingers already rapidly skirting across the pad of the phone to dial a familiar number.

"Renji," she snapped immediately, once she heard the ringing on the other end stop. "Where are you and how soon can you get to Ichigo and Orihime's apartment?"

x.x.x.x.x.x

"It's always nice when you two stop by," Orihime cheered amicably, licking ice cream from her spoon with enthusiasm. "How are things going at Soul Society?"

"Uh, great," Renji replied, taking over the conversation from Rukia, who seemed to be peering rather obviously at Orihime's ring finger. "We got a new vending machine over at Squad Six since the last time you visited. The Captain hates it."

Orihime nodded seriously. Kuchiki Byakuya did not seem like the type to enjoy the many benefits of a vending machine. Perhaps he had gotten his hand stuck? Orihime wouldn't judge him, that had happened to her too. It was understandable.

Suddenly, she felt a hand lifting hers. "Um, Rukia," she asked, a little curiously, "What's wrong?"

Rukia jerked back suddenly, feeling her bangs slap her forehead at the movement. She quickly concealed the ring-sizer, the plastic disappearing in the folds of her dress. "Nothing!" she shouted formally, "I was simply holding your hand, as good friends do!"

"Oh that's so cute," Orihime cooed, with an appreciative nod. "I'd love to hold hands with you!" She reached out for Rukia's fingers and twined it with hers, going back to eating her ice cream with gusto, single-handed.

Renji shook his head, hiding a poorly concealed grin as he regarded the table tops. Rukia narrowed her eyes at him, and he suddenly felt a jolt of nervousness shoot up his spine. She was getting the Bad Idea look in her eyes again: a look he was overly familiar with in Rukon, when she got excitable and wanted to chase feral hogs in the fields—something that never ended well but had Renji chasing after her anyway. Rukia's eyes flashed, a dangerous grin spreading on her lips.

"You know," she said, at a conspirator's distance. "Renji is really good at palmistry." She elbowed him not-so-subtly, making him frown.

"I've never—" he started, but closed his mouth when he realized what Rukia was up to. He then quickly amended himself, shrugging with an air of nonchalance as he regarded Orihime. "Eh, I used to dabble a bit."

"He's very good at dabbling," Rukia insisted, yanking Orihime's hand and thrusting it into Renji's. She used her other hand to slyly slip the ring-sizer into Renji's broad palm under the table.

It was only years of experience that helped him catch it without a glance, not letting it clatter to the floor.

"Oh, I don't know, you guys," Orihime started, staring down at her hands. Ichigo hated these things with a passion and the last thing she wanted was another tirade from him about it but it seemed to her to be a bit of harmless fun. She shrugged, flipping the light side of her palm up. “Let’s do it!”

“Yes, let’s,” Rukia agreed enthusiastically, giving Renji a pointed look.

Renji felt a pool of sweat start to form on his forehead as Rukia and Orihime stared at him. Sure, he had agreed to help Rukia help Ichigo out, agreed to palmistry as well, but he hadn’t thought this far. He gulped.

“So,” he said, taking a breath as he regarded the thin, light lines running across Orihime’s very soft, very pink palms. “You have uh, a lot of lines.”

Orihime’s brows creased. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Renji,” Rukia hissed.

Right. He had to get his shit together or Ichigo would not be able to propose, and as someone who had struggled to propose himself, he stood deeply in solidarity with the kid.

“No, no,” he said quickly, bending so he could get a better look. “I see one of these lines,” he brushed a large thumb over the expanse of her palm, “curves outwards. That means you’re, uh...a very outgoing, adventurous person. You like trying new things.”

He peered up to gauge her reaction. Most of what he just said were things he already knew, and he suspected Orihime knew that as well, but since she didn’t factor in too much importance over this, she didn’t seem to mind. Beside her, Rukia was holding in a laugh behind her palm.

Orihime, however, just smiled encouragingly and nodded. “I do like exploring a lot.”

“Alright,” he said, steadying her wrist under one hand. “There’s three lines here. Good fortune, lotsa kids,” he suddenly bit his tongue, wondering if Ichigo was going to kill him for suggesting that. But Orihime seemed to be listening with keen interest, so he twisted the ring-sizer in his finger and inched it closer. “Maybe...four kids?”

“That’s a lot,” Rukia pointed out with a frown, eyes suddenly catching his movement. She decided to pitch in. “They aren’t even out of college yet. Anything in there about marriage?”

Orihime squeaked, turning a bright scarlet. She and Ichigo had talked about it, but they hadn’t talked about it, so the jitter in her belly made her swivel her head bashfully.

Renji used this opportunity to lift her ring finger. Almost there, his brain urged. “Your, um, marriage line,” he said, proud of himself for making up legitimate-sounding palm-reading terminology, “looks fruitful. You will marry someone who is a bit of an idiot—” Orihime giggled, “—but he cares, and he’s going to be good to you and, uh, fight to the brink of death to keep you happy...” He almost slipped the ring on, when Orihime sniffled loudly.

He suddenly looked up in mild panic. Large tears had begun to gather at her eyes, and she retrieved her hand from his grip to wipe them away from her wet cheeks. “He is really good to me,” she agreed, feeling a sudden, overwhelming bout of emotions take over her chest. “Ichigo’s the best.”

“Oh, Orihime,” Rukia exclaimed, rubbing her back with one hand. She had a weird, watery grin on her face, like she was trying to decide whether to feel upset that their mission was botched or laugh at how Orihime was going on about how much she liked Ichigo—as if everyone didn’t already know.

Renji huffed. Just when he was getting really in character! he grumbled inwardly, slipping the ring-sizer back in his pocket. He had to come up with a new plan.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Every new plan was a bust.

Renji had thought of everything, but grabbing a girl's hand was rather tough to do when she was conscious.

"We are not knocking Orihime out," Rukia mumbled under her breath, shooting down Plan #42. Ahead of them, Orihime seemed to be deep in thought as they walked back to the apartment she shared with Ichigo. Beside him, Rukia was biting her lip, furiously tapping back and forth in an all out text-war with—probably—Ichigo. Renji cleared his throat. "Say, does she look alright to you?" Orihime had seemed rather quiet post-ice cream, which—in Renji's admittedly brief experience with her—was uncharacteristic.

"Hmm?" Rukia mumbled, fingers dancing with uncertainty as she tried to find the best emoji to pair off with her expletives. Ichigo's potty mouth had gotten worse in the months they hadn't seen each other and she wouldn't stand for half-assing something as important as cussing him out. She was trying, wasn't she? She couldn't carry out her tasks if he was going to ask for updates every damn minute!

"Nevermind, I'm gonna go up to her, see what's up," Renji said, jerking his head straight ahead. "You reconfigure our ring strategy."

He left Rukia to go fall in line with Orihime. She acknowledged him with a small smile, but seemed otherwise a little inert. Elbowing her slightly, he nodded. "Y'alright?"

Orihime smiled, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater as she replied, "Yes, I'm fine." She took a breath, clearly hesitating to say something. "It's just..."

"Just what?" Renji asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Nothing!" Orihime said brightly, and her act lasted for a solid second before her shoulders slumped again. "It's just...We were talking about marriage earlier, right?"

"Uh-huh," Renji replied, feeling a sense of foreboding crawl up his spine.

Orihime sighed. "I don't know," she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"You don't know...if you wanna marry him?" Renji prompted, looking over his shoulder to see if Rukia was listening to this because all the panic alarm bells were going off in his head. Cheesy and cliche as it was, he knew a thing or two about wanting to marry the one you loved since you were young enough to identify the feeling. He'd always thought Orihime was pretty much the same when it came to Ichigo. Was she having second thoughts? What had that idiot done to fuck up this badly?

Renji suddenly felt a mild string of panic for Ichigo.

"I do, I really do," Orihime insisted, however, cheeks pink as she gnawed her lip. "Sometimes I want it so much I go crazy just thinking about it. But..." Her tone faltered. "Sometimes I feel like a fraud. It's been so amazing so far, but I don't know if—if it's always going to be like this or if the charm will wear off and we'll both turn into people we don't like, like that couple in the show Rukia made us watch.” Knot in Love Tonight, Renji thought, but did not interrupt her. “Ichigo's always so confident because his parents were really in love and really happy together and he doesn't seem to get that not all marriages end up that way and...I don't want us to go into this because it’s what’s expected and then regret it." She took a breath, shooting Renji an apologetic wince. "Sorry."

"Nah, you're good," Renji said slowly, with a sigh. "Your folks weren't too great, huh?"

Orihime shook her head.

He blew out air through his cheeks, weighing his words with deliberation as he spoke, "Y'know I didn't have any parents either." In Rukon, you generally banded together with the first people you came across, but Renji never had that and it had never really occurred to him that he was an outlier in the general spirit world population until he met other people at the Academy. "I didn't have a good point of reference too, but I don't think that's necessarily something you need to have a good marriage."

Orihime's eyes widened. "You think so?"

Renji nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you and Ichigo really love each other, right?"

She beamed. "We do.”

"Then you'll make it work. There's no secrets to a successful marriage, you just gotta keep stumbling along until you figure things out." He paused. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to gift 'em stuffed bunnies when they're mad at you, every now and then, though I don't think that would work with Ichigo."

Orihime giggled. "No," she agreed. "Thank you, Renji-kun."

Renji flashed her a grin. "You should talk to Ichigo about it, either way," he said, holding his fist out halfway. "Never know what's gonna be around the corner, right?"

Or how soon, he thought.

Orihime smiled, feeling her tummy turn into goo as she raised her hand to bump his.

"Oi, you two!" Rukia called out suddenly, distracting Orihime in her footsteps. "What are you guys talking about over there? When did you get so far ahead?"

Renji quickly used this as a scapegoat to twist Orihime's ring finger, circling the sizer in and out as Orihime mouthed off a cheerful response back at Rukia. With a satisfied sigh, he tossed it into his pocket quickly before anyone cottoned on.

By the time Rukia caught up with them, her eyes scanned Renji's curiously. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect!" Orihime replied, clapping her hands delightedly as she continued skipping forward.

"Just perfect," Renji added, smirking as he held up the sizer behind Orihime's back.

Rukia's jaw fell open, but she raised her hand as they high-fived.

"What did you do?" Rukia demanded, appalled and intrigued. "How did you do it?"

Renji shrugged. "We just talked. Turns out I'm really good with my hands after all."

Rukia made a face at his subsequent smirk. "You're so gross," she said fondly, "but at least Ichigo owes us now."

"Us?" Renji asked, raising an eyebrow. "Last I checked, I did all the work."

"Whatever. Orihime's probably going to ask me to be her bridesmaid, so jokes on you," she bragged.

"Dunno, I think I'd make a pretty bridesmaid," Renji said thoughtfully, scratching his chin as he ducked Rukia's jabs to his kidney. "Don't reckon Ichigo would make me best man?"

Rukia scoffed. "Unless Chad drops dead, no."

"She is going to say yes, though, isn't she?" Renji asked after a while, biting his lip.

"Duh."

They both stared after Orihime's silhouette for a while, a silence falling between them. Then, Renji's face split into a grin. "Y'know I'm kinda proud of those kids," he said, jerking his head forward.

Rukia's eyes softened. "Me too."

#been a while since i wrote renruki! a bit dialogue-heavy for once from me lol :)#thanks for the prompt anon hope you like!#asks #renruki #ichihime #ichiruki brotp #renhime brotp #myfic

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

Part One

Luke Patterson x Fem!reader

Summary: All you wanted was to play the biggest gig of your life with your best friends, but you just might get more than you bargained for.

Warnings: death and some swearing (I don’t think there is anything else but if there is, let me know!)

…

May 1994

“Shit.”

You whispered to yourself as you stared at the old clock on the diner’s wall.

It had only been half an hour since your shift started, but you were already anxious for it to be over.

Cece’s diner was normally one of your favorite places in the world. It was a small, poorly lit building in a boring part of L.A. It didn’t see much business since it wasn’t easy to find. But the air always smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon.

You loved working there, but it was not where you wanted to be right now.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” A voice asked from behind the counter. You turned to see your boss Cece, a petite middle-aged woman who was eyeing the dirty table in front of you that you were supposed to be cleaning.

“Yeah, sorry. My mind is somewhere else.” You admitted, throwing the empty plates in the tray and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cece shook her head and let out a laugh as she followed. “On a certain guitarist, perhaps?”

Your cheeks flushed and Cece laughed again, grabbing the rag off her shoulder and smacking it against your arm lightly.

She was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Luke Patterson. One of your best friends, childhood crush, and most recently, your bandmate.

“And for your information, I’m thinking about all of the band because we’re practicing tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Cece hummed, a sly smile on her face.

She always pretended to be annoyed with your ramblings since you joined sunset curve, saying that a sixteen-year-old girl had no business being in a rock band. But you had caught her bragging about you to the few regulars you had multiple times.

She had a son living a few states away, but they weren’t close. So she treated you like her daughter. Which meant she wasn't the biggest fan of you constantly hanging around a bunch of teenage boys. But eventually, she warmed up to them. Especially Alex; he was her favorite.

Luke, on the other hand, annoyed her to no end.

You ran the dishes under hot water and pressed a kiss to Cece’s cheek as you walked past her and back into the main room.

“Besides, Luke doesn’t like me like that.”

Cece rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the shrill ring of the phone cut her off. You let out a sigh, grateful for the distraction. She meant well, but when it came to your situation with Luke, you were more than happy to live in denial and ignoring it altogether.

He was your best friend. That’s all that mattered right now.

You shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed the phone’s receiver. “Cece’s Diner. How can I help you?”

“How much do you love me?”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart raced at the sound of Luke’s voice rang through your ears. His choice of words definitely not helping to calm you down. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself.

“Luke?” You asked which prompted Cece to raise an eyebrow from the other side of the room.

“Hey. I’m sorry for calling you at work but I can’t finish this song and it’s driving me nuts. I need you and your genius brain to come help me.”

Despite your protests, the tap dance in your chest continued. It was ridiculous that after knowing Luke all your life, you were still shocked when he complimented you like that.

“I don’t get off until six, but I’ll come after.” You said, trying not to smile when you heard him cheer in victory. “And before Reggie asks, yes, I’ll bring coffee.”

Luke laughed before singing into the phone. “Get me a large with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“I hate you.” You sang back, making a mental note to wipe off the smirk you could practically hear in his voice before the line went dead. You sighed as you put the phone back on the hook, holding a finger out to Cece.

“Not a word.”

A few hours later, you walked into Bobby’s garage, carrying a cardboard tray in each arm.

You sighed as you looked around the room. Every surface was covered in discarded paper balls and empty fast-food wrappers. You had expected to hear some form of music or at least some talking but the room was dead silent.

In the center of the mess, Alex and Reggie sat on the floor. Alex was trying to balance his drumsticks on his nose, and Reggie was mindlessly strumming his bass. Luke was sitting back on the couch, his eyebrows tightly knitted together as he frantically scribbled into his notebook.

“Your savior is here, and I come bearing coffee.”

All three heads whipped in your direction and within seconds, Reggie was excitedly bouncing his way towards you. He reached out to swipe a cup from the tray in your left hand. You swatted his arm away.

"Not that one. That’s Al’s.”

You set the rest of the drinks on the table in front of you and walked up to Alex. You handed him the cup and he gave you an appreciative smile. You always made sure to get him hot chocolate or tea, since you learned the hard way that caffeine can sometimes make his anxiety worse. He told you he didn’t want to admit that to the guys. So you were happy covering for him.

“Why does he get his own special one?” Reggie pouted as he grabbed another cup and strolled over to Luke, plopping down next to him on the couch. “And why is she the only one who can call you ‘Al’?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” You said, poking Reggie’s cheek as you passed him and took the other seat on the couch next to Luke. Alex just nodded, trying to hold back a smile.

“I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.” Luke said, looking up from his songbook for the first time since you got there.

“Cece knew it was important band stuff so she let me off early.” You shrugged.

“Oh no, she’s not mad at me, is she?” Luke shivered, thinking of all the times Cece had chewed him out for being a ‘bad influence’ on you or made him wipe down some tables for accidentally making you late for a shift. “You know I can’t stand when that woman is mad at me.”

“I also know that all you have to do is give her your little puppy-dog look and she’ll instantly forgive you.”

“Yeah, you guys are alike that way.” Luke teased, sticking his bottom lip out and batting his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?” You said as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He grinned and started translating his messy handwriting for all of you.

The four of you sat there for an hour putting all the words in the right places and by the time Bobby got there, you all felt confident that it was finally finished. You took your place behind your microphone and nodded.

“Okay, Al. Count us down.”

Alex twirled his drumsticks. “1…2…3…4!”

June, 1995

“Don’t look down.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you sang the song you had written a year ago. Your feet bouncing on the stage, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

To your left, Luke raised his arms, trying to hype up the non-existent crowd. Alex clashed his drumsticks together to the beat as all your voices came together.

“Cause we’re still rising up right now.”

You clapped along to the song, the energy coursing through your veins. Luke was in the middle of throwing his guitar behind his back. You rolled your eyes at him and he flashed you a small bashful smile before turning his head.

Your heart fluttered but you forced yourself to turn the other way, singing with Reggie just as the song transferred out of the bridge. The fog machines cued the ending chorus and you gripped your microphone with both hands.

“And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly.

Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.

But living like it’s now or never.“

The other boy's voices dropped out until it was just you and Luke singing the chorus. You looked over at him, but his eyes were glued to the front of the room. Normally, you would share a mic for this part or at least stand close together, but he seemed determined to avoid you.

Just like he had been for the last six months.

You ignored the gaping pit in your stomach and poured all your focus into the song.

“Like it’s now or never!

It’s now or never!“

The final riff sounded and you let out an exhausted but proud sigh. There were a few scattered claps from the staff in the venue. But a curly-haired girl behind the counter was cheering especially loud. Reggie winked at her and leaned into his mic.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled his arm, dragging him to the center of the stage. Alex came from his drum set and you gave him a high five.

“Al, you were amazing!”

“Yeah, dude, you were smoking.” Reggie agreed.

Alex blushed. “Nah, man. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Can you just own your awesomeness for once?”

Bobby and Luke nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrows at Alex, nudging him until he finally smiled. “Okay, I was killing it!”

“I’m thinking we should fuel up before the show. Street dogs?” Luke asked. Alex and Reggie hummed in agreement but you wrinkled your nose.

“I think I’m gonna pass.” You said, jumping off the stage. It wasn’t that you had anything against street dogs, but as far as pre-gig activities go, it didn’t make your top ten list.

Bobby landed next to you and started jogging towards the counter. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and approached the girl wiping tables.

“Oh no.” You said. “Bobby, leave that poor girl alone.”

Bobby turned around just enough to give you a glare as you both reached the counter. The rest of the boys weren’t far behind. You felt Luke slip behind you and throw an arm on Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby told the girl some line about being a vegetarian. But she shook it off, looking over all of you.

“You guys are really good.”

You smiled proudly. “Thank you.”

She returned your smile. “I’ve seen a lot of bands. Even been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”

Luke was practically beaming. The whole band contributed with the songs, of course, but you and Luke were the main writers, so it was always nice to hear people compliment your words. “That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hey, I’m Reggie.”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.”

“And I’m (Y/n).”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Rose.” She said, turning to you. “You have a great voice, by the way. It’s always cool to see a girl lead vocalist.”

Bobby snorted. You elbowed him and Luke gave him a wet-willy. “Oh, thank you. But I’m just co-lead.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but Reggie reached in his back pocket and pulled out a C.D and a t-shirt, handing them to her. “Here’s our demo, and a T-shirt, size beautiful.”

As if on cue, you and Alex rolled your eyes. You sent Rose an apologetic look as she held the shirt up to her body.

“Thanks, I’ll try not to wipe down the tables with this one.”

Alex nodded. “Good call! When they get wet, they kind of fall apart in your hands.”

Bobby glared at all of you. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”

Luke pushed Bobby back and leaned on the counter with both arms. “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.”

The boys started going towards the exit but stopped when Alex noticed you hesitating. “You coming?”

You really didn’t want hotdogs, but you also didn’t want to stay and listen to Bobby attempt to flirt with Rose. So you nodded and followed Alex to the door.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Rose called out and you turned around. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave her a warm smile before walking out into the alley. The night air hit your skin and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely a change from the sweaty stage. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke whooped as he jumped through the doors and into the alleyway.

Alex gestured around, wrinkling his nose. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”

Luke shoved his shoulder. “No.”

You jumped out of the way as Luke splashed in a puddle. “It’s what that girl said in there. About our music.”

His eyes flickered to you when he said ‘our’ but quickly looked away. It was practically the first time he had acknowledged your presence all night.

“It connects us with people, you know? They can feel us when we play.” He said excitedly, slowing his walking until the rest of you caught up with him.

He reached each arm up and pulled Reggie to his side with one arm and despite being right next to you, he pulled Alex to his other side. You turned your head forward to hide the confused look on your face but you knew Alex saw it.

Other than Cece, he was the only person who knew about your feelings for Luke. You could tell from the look on his face that he was just as confused with Luke’s recent behavior as you were, but he didn’t say anything.

“I want that connection with everybody.”

“Then we’re gonna need more T-shirts.” You heard Reggie say as you reached the end of the alley. You pulled up the hood of your jacket and turned your head away from the line in front of the venue.

You didn't mean to walk so fast, but you were the first one at the alleyway a few blocks away from the Orpheum. You made your hotdog and made small talk with the vendor for a few minutes before the guys caught up.

“You trying to ditch us, (Y/n)?” Reggie asked, putting ingredients on his hotdog.

“Not my fault you guys are slow.” You stuck your tongue at him and he squinted at you. Alex groaned. You looked over at him to see him trying to put a pickle on his tray.

“Man, I can’t wait until the day we can eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”

As he apologized to the vendor for getting pickle juice on his battery cables, you, Luke, and Reggie made your way to one of the old couches. They both sat down, leaving one open space next to Luke.

You made a point of sitting on the arm of the couch, letting your feet dangle on the seat. If Luke was going to avoid you, then you were going to avoid him right back. You also avoided the questioning look Reggie gave you before Alex sat down.

Luke didn’t seem to notice. He was bouncing his leg and couldn’t seem to stop smiling, it was obvious that he was still buzzing with energy from the soundcheck.

“This is awesome, you guys.” He said as he made himself comfortable between Reggie and Alex. “We’re playing the Orpheum! Do you know how many bands that played here ended up being huge?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled while the boys chuckled. You were all used to seeing the intense side of Luke, but he had been an even bigger ball of excited energy ever since you booked the Orpheum gig. It could be a little much for the guys sometimes, but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music never failed to make you smile.

“I’m serious.” Luke insisted as he leaned forward and raised his hotdog in a toast. “Eat up, guys. Because after tonight, everything changes.”

You all toasted and then started to eat. Usually, street dogs weren’t half bad. But this time there was a burnt, nasty flavor that made it hard to swallow. Alex saw your face and nodded in agreement.

Even Luke, who had a super-human stomach, made a face. But his hunger must’ve won out cause he took another big bite.

“That’s a new flavor.” Alex said with his mouth full.

“Relax, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie told him as he took another bite. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent confident about it but you shrugged and kept eating.

It all happened so fast.

At first, it felt like you were dreaming. Like maybe you had just fallen asleep and would eventually wake up and realize that everything was just a nightmare.

But then the outline of Los Angeles floated away in a haze of grey and you were left in the dark. There was nothing but silence until you heard a voice somewhere in front of you.

It was the sound of Alex’s frantic ranting.

You could feel Reggie and Luke next to you, but they didn’t say anything. You didn’t either.

But you didn’t really need to. It was glaringly obvious what happened, you could feel it in your bones.

You were dead.

Alex’s ranting slowly turned into crying, which made you cry. Luke heard your quiet sniffles and for the first time in months, he touched you.

He reached out and intertwined your fingers loosely in his, gently swiping his thumb across your knuckles. You closed your eyes, trying to soak up the feeling. This was the closest to him you had been in since that night in the studio.

It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time, it was all too familiar. You knew that if you stayed in this moment with him any longer, you would fall apart completely.

So you turned away from him and buried your head in Alex’s shoulder. It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken and the opening of Now or Never filled the air.

“Is that…?” You started, but before you could finish, the floor disappeared from under you.

You hit the ground with a painful groan and blinked at the sudden flood of bright light. You felt movement next to you and saw Reggie struggling to get up.

You hauled yourself up and turned around to realize you were back in Bobby’s garage. It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it. There was a new grand piano and flowers on every table. The room was free of any trash or discarded flannels.

But the biggest change by far, was the girl standing in front of you.

She was about your age with brown hair tied in a ponytail, in a bright yellow shirt, and furry slippers. She was staring at the four of you with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face.

“How did we get back here?” Luke said as he scanned the studio.

The girl screamed, which made the boys scream and cling to each other. Reggie threw himself against Luke and pulled you behind him.

They all screamed for a few more seconds before the girl ran out of the garage doors. You cautiously walked out from behind Reggie and towards the middle of the room, spinning in a full circle.

The boys started talking but you were still mesmerized by all the changes made to the studio.

You looked up towards the ceiling and saw that there were chairs hanging by the loft and countless tiny plants by the windows but you could still see the nail polish-stain you had made on the carpet and the dents in the beams from all the times Luke had messed up his guitar throw.

Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.

Well, two things were for sure.

You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #alex mercer #reggie peters #julie molina #jatp fanfic

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leviaju · 4 years

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

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emmyhem · 3 years

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right where you left me (l.r.h)

a/n: hi everybody! so this is a bit of a longer one that is inspired by the song “right where you left me” by taylor swift on evermore. it’s one of my favorites by her because i love the writing and the concept. whether you’re a taylor fan or not i suggest reading and then listening to the song with the fic in mind, it makes the song hit extremely hard. also expect more taylor inspired stuff in the future because she’s one of my all time favorite artists. this one is sad but i live for the angst so what’re you gonna do? my calum piece, “everything you’re missing” should be up by the end of the week and i’m working hard on my very first michael and ashton pieces as well, which is really exciting. anyway i hope you all enjoy and are being safe (get vaccinated if you can!) once again my messages are always open and feedback/criticism is always appreciated. hugs and kisses to all, thanks - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: you met 20 year old luke hemmings in a coffee shop eight years ago and were sure your life had been decided. you once told him you’d wait for him until you were sure he was happier without you. you never thought that day would actually come.

warning(s): angst, cursing, alludes to possible infidelity, it’s a sad one so buckle in.

word count: 6.2k

Current time - December 14th

The familiar ring of the entrance bell pulled your attention from the worn book beneath your fingers to take a routine glance at the patrons rushing in from the early December chill. Mitten covered hands, and icy cold flushed cheeks entered one after the other. Your typical seat in the corner of the small cafe was shielded from the penetrating winds that accompanied each person in their entrance but you still shivered in sympathy at each new arrival.

Your steaming earl grey had faded into a tepid puddle at the bottom of your mug as the hours passed on the analog clock that adorned the brick wall in the front. Olive, a barista you had become friendly with over the years approached your table with the cafe’s winter speciality, an orange cranberry muffin in hand.

“Last one.” she said, sitting it on a pine green napkin in front of you.

You reached into your purse for a few spare bills to cover the cost when she stopped you by placing a hand on your forearm.

“On the house for our favorite customer.” her eyes were filled with pity as she nodded down to you, and you were too tired to feel embarrassed.

“Thanks, Liv.” you sighed.

“It’s my pleasure, besides I always feel like we’re robbing you when you pay full price, you only ever eat half anyway.” she added as she walked away.

You picked at the baked good, memories flooding your brain with each bite.

Eight years ago - December 14th

As you clutched your books with a death grip you cursed yourself for forgetting your gloves in your dorm. The wind was picking up and it wouldn’t be long until they were numb completely, and your sweater paws were less than effective in warming your frozen fingers.

A flickering red light glowed just a bit down the street and a sugary citrus aroma was pulling your stiff limbs towards it against the wind. The closer you got the more mouthwatering the smell became and soon enough you had reached the door, bracing yourself for the chill of the copper handle as you pulled it open.

Sweet, warm air enveloped you as you stepped inside. The red brick walls were chipped in more than a few places, red and green christmas lights twinkle from a tree in the corner, and the crackling of the fireplace was like music to your ears. You wondered how you had never noticed the quaint cafe before as you took your place in line behind a tall man wearing only a thin black hoodie and beanie for protection from the cold weather. As you got closer to him a piney scent cut through the sweet smell of pastries and you caught yourself leaning in to get a better whiff of its freshness.

Your eyes scanned over the menu that hung behind the cash register while he ordered and did your best to ignore the chill that ran up your spine when his soft aussie accent invaded your ears.

Once he finished and stepped off to the side to wait for his order you moved forward and placed your books on the counter.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” a young ginger barista with an abundance of freckles said.

“Hi,” you paused and located her name tag. “Olive, I’ve never been here before but there's this smell that-”

“Our orange cranberry muffins.” she interrupted pointing to a chalkboard in front of her that read, “Warm up with a wintery treat, try our famous orange cranberry muffin today!”

Your stomach growled quietly at the thought as you nodded.

“I would love one of those and...a medium early grey, please.” you replied, pulling a 10 dollar bill from your pocket.

“Sadly, we have just sold our last one to the customer in front of you.” she nodded to the enticing blonde man that had caught your attention earlier, who was now staring down at his black vans as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

You narrowed your eyes at the muffin thief when he glanced up at you innocently while accepting his coffee from another worker.

“We do still have our gingerbread and pumpkin muffins if you’d be interested in one of those instead.” Olive continued motioning a hand to the glass display of tasty treats to your right.

You let out a disappointed huff, “That’s okay, just the tea please.”

You paid for your order making sure to leave a few extra dollars in the tip jar before taking a seat on a worn burgundy couch near the fire to wait for your drink.

Leaning your head against your hand for support you allowed your eyes to drift closed and listen to the pops and crackles of the fire meshing with the soft holiday music echoing through the place. You only opened your eyes back up at the feeling of the couch dipping beside you.

Sitting too close to not acknowledge, was the boy from earlier who was now alternating sips of what smelled like a strong latte with bites of the muffin that could’ve been yours.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

His head snapped in your direction at the sound of your voice, and he finished chewing before responding.

“Doing what?”

“Taunting me with your stupid muffin.” you were aware of how childish you sounded but hunger had always brought out the irrational side of you.

“It’s actually quite delicious.” he smirked, ignoring your frustration.

You groaned in jealousy, “Don’t rub it in.”

Realization sparked in his eyes.

“Got the last one didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“M’happy to share.” he grinned, breaking off half and holding it out to you.

“No, really it’s fine. I’m just being annoying.” you waved him off.

“I’m not annoyed. Really, take it. I’d have to throw it away otherwise.”

Your eyebrows raised at his comment.

“I’m stuffed.” he explained, patting his stomach twice.

“I don’t believe you, but I’m starving and this smells incredible.” you responded, accepting the baked good.

You closed your eyes and let out a satisfied hum after biting into it.

“Holy shit, this is like the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

The boy watched you and laughed at every pleased noise that you released.

Once you had finished your half you turned back to see him still watching you, he had scooted even closer to you and your knees knocked together at your movement.

“Thank you, that was amazing. Although it was pretty rich I don’t think I could eat a whole one either.”

“Your welcome,” when he paused you realized you hadn’t even introduced yourself but still stole half of this guy’s muffin.

“I’m y/n.” you filled in.

“Luke.” he returned.

You nodded and repeated it, testing how it felt on your tongue.

“Thank you again, Luke.”

The two of you began talking about, school, work, music, your favorite movies, astrology, anything really. By the time you glanced up from the conversation the cafe was nearly empty and the fire in front of you had burnt out leaving a smoky debris hanging in the air.

“I think they’re closing.” you said while checking the time on your phone.

“Fuck, I’ve got a paper due tomorrow.”

“Sorry, I kept you back.” you apologized, both of you gathering your things as you talked.

“No, s’not your fault.” he dismissed as you both began to walk to the door.

Standing a few feet away from the exit you could already feel the nip that was permeating through the glass, it sent a chill through your spine making you wiggle your shoulders. As you stared at the floor over the books in your arms, trying to decide what the best way to ensure you would see Luke again was, you heard the buzz of a zipper. You lifted your head to see your new acquaintance removing his arms from the sleeves of his black hoodie.

“Are you crazy? It’s freezing out there.”

“I know, you’re shivering.” he answered, swinging the fabric behind your back until it dropped and wrapped around your shoulders. He pulled on the sleeves till they were hanging in place and you watched through your lashes, completely in awe of his concentrated expression.

“Luke, I can’t wear this you’ll freeze and I can’t just take your clothes.”

“C’mon of course y’can. I’m warm blooded. I'll be fine and you aren’t taking it. I’m gonna want to come in for one of those muffins tomorrow and you know I can’t eat the whole thing, so you’ll just have to be here to share with me. We meet, we eat, I retrieve my jacket, all is right in the world.” He smiled through his words, attempting to warm you up by rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders quickly. “Think you can do that?”

“I’m sure.”

“Excellent. Meet me here at 9:00 tomorrow.”

You nodded as he pushed the door open and despite him trying to act unaffected you could tell from his rigid stance he was freezing.

“I’m counting on you alright? Stay warm, y/n.” he reiterated through chattering teeth before exiting the shop.

Current Time - December 14th

When they talk about one moment defining your life it seems silly, and unrealistic. One day of your life is hardly even a blip so one minute defining everything seems completely ludacris. You would have never bought into it eight years ago, right up until Luke muttered those three words to you before braving the cold.

“Stay warm, y/n.”

He said it and you had one of those moments. One of those, “and then everything changed.” moments.

You had always been sure that your purpose would come to you later in life, maybe you’d have a spiritual awakening while in some foreign country. Maybe you’d read a book that would change your view on everything, or god forbid you’d have a close encounter with death and the epiphany would come then. You would’ve never guessed that a nearly missed encounter with the world’s best muffin and a lanky Australian guy would do it.

But here you were eight years after the encounter, your hair was longer, the crinkles that appear by your eyes when you smile now linger, and Luke was nowhere to be seen, but some things haven’t changed at all. A half eaten muffin, the comforting cafe, and your unwavering certainty that your life’s purpose was to love and to be loved by Luke Hemmings all remained.

Seven years ago - March 27th

The door swung open to a positively beaming Luke, he leaned in to press a swift kiss on your cheek before hurriedly pulling you inside.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” you questioned, taking notice of the subtle burnt smell in the air and the smoky atmosphere of his apartment.

He nodded excitedly pulling you by the hand into the kitchen where you were met with messy countertops packed full of lumpy and slightly charred muffins. Your mouth fell open and you turned to face your boyfriend who was smiling timidly at you, eyes scanning over your face.

“I made you our muffins.” he smiled, proudly looking at his work.

“Wha- how? How did you even get the recipe?”

“Olive helped me out.” He responded, taking a seat on one of the bar stools by the island.

“Lu, this is incredible. Thank you.” you praised, moving to stand between his legs.

“I hope they turned out good. Y’know baking is a lot harder than it looks.” he tutted while unwrapping one for you. “Open up.” he instructed, tapping your chin.

Your teeth struggled to bite through the dense baked good, and while your taste buds fought with the bitter crumbly substance you questioned whether Luke had actually followed any recipe at all because what you were eating tasted nothing like the warm, gooey, and tart treat that the two of you had come to love.

You chewed slowly to avoid swallowing and kept your face as neutral as possible.

“How is it? Good?” he spoke nervously and the little glint of hope in his eyes forced you to swallow it down and paint on a pleased smile.

“Mmm” you moaned “It's delicious, Luke.”

“Yeah?” he beamed.

“Really good.” you nodded, your eyes drifting longingly to the sink. In that moment you would’ve killed for a glass of water.

“Wow, I mean I thought they’d be alright but this is great. Lemme try.” he brought your muffin up to his mouth and in a panic you snatched it from his hands, squeaking out a small “No!” before shoving the rest of it in your mouth.

“Babe, there’s plenty, no need to be greedy.” he laughed while unwrapping another. And you really should’ve thought this through because with puffed out cheeks full of possibly the worst muffin in history you took a step back and watched him bite into one. His face twisted in disgust and he quickly spit what he had taken back into the wrapper.

When he looked back up to you, you were standing there with a full mouth and wide eyes. He cocked his head to the side in confusion, “You enjoyed that?”

The second you shrugged your shoulders, feigning innocence Luke burst into a sharp cackle, his legs kicking up into the air from the force of his laughter. You took that as an opportunity to run to the trash and rid yourself of the awful taste in your mouth.

Luke was still struggling to catch his breath while you finished pouring yourself a glass of water.

“It’s not funny, Lu.” you argued between sips.

“Why didn’t you just spit it out?” he chortled, beckoning you closer with grabby hands.

“Because, it was so sweet.” you reasoned.

“Really? I would argue it was more rancid than sweet.”

“Not the muffin you goon, the gesture.” you elaborated, smacking his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you ate the whole thing.”

“Shut up. I was trying to be nice.” you pouted.

“Hey,” he said, standing and opening his arms. “M’sorry I know.”

You waddled into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his back.

“I love you for that.” he sighed, before kissing the top of your head.

You froze in his hold, those three unexpected words echoing through your head.

“You what?”

His chest shook lightly as a laugh fell from his mouth.

“I love you.” he repeated. It was so nonchalant, as if he’d said it to you a hundred times before. “You alright with that?”

You nodded before pulling back just enough that you could see his face.

“I love you.” you returned.

Luke’s hands cupped your cheeks, a groan passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to your now pouty mouth.

“Say it again.” he pleaded into your mouth.

“I love you.” you sighed, chasing his lips with your own.

“And again, and again, and again…” he continued, rewarding you with one lingering peck for each declaration.

“Mmm” he hummed in content when he decided he was satisfied. “Never stop saying it.”

Current Time - December 14th

A whirlwind romance like the one that the two of you had shared was never meant to be sad. It was the kind of love that constantly feels like a cheesy montage full of sweet moments that happens at the end of a rom-com. Unsuccessful baking attempts, cozy study dates, spontaneous weekend trips, hundreds of shared muffins, piggy back rides home from the bar, that’s what made you Luke and y/n.

The two of you didn’t do well with the hard stuff and it worked because there just wasn’t any. Everything was easy and it felt good. It felt right.

It had never even occurred to you that the hard stuff was part of any great love, that inevitably one day things would get hard. It really hadn’t occurred to you that pushing through the hard stuff was something that Luke may not be up for. Because you were and you always had been, all in.

Six years ago - February 17th

You had gotten home late after a long shift at the library you worked at part time . Luke was sitting on the couch scribbling something in a notebook and taking tiny sips of his steaming cup of tea, too impatient to wait for it to cool properly.

You’d been listening to an audiobook while organizing the shelves that day and the somber tone of it had seriously dampened your mood. It also made you extremely grateful that you had Luke to cuddle away all your sorrows.

He had noticed your sad expression the second he saw you and was quick to pull you into his arms and press you for information.

“What happened baby?” he cooed as you nestled as close into him as physically possible.

“Sad book.” you mumbled into his chest.

“Aw, love you shouldn’t let that stuff get to you. S’not real, there’s no need to get upset.” This was something you had heard plenty of times before, seeing as you were an extremely emotional person and felt things strongly.

“It was so sad though, bubs.” You reasoned that talking through it with someone else might dull the ache that it had left on your taut heartstrings. You explained the whole plot, how the couple had met on a plane and spent their two separate vacations together and along the way fallen in love. Luke would hum or nod every so often indicating he was listening but you knew most of his focus was on the fact that you were tearing up through your explanation. He let his lips rest along your hairline as you got to the climax of the story, speaking through cracks in your voice to tell him that they had lost each other’s numbers on their way back and while the woman was able to move on and find love later in life, the man waited at the airport for years hoping that one day he would see her again.

Luke’s hand ran through your hair while your head rested on his chest.

“I don’t think there’s anything romantic about it. It’s just sad.” he concluded.

“I disagree.”

“Really?”

“I’d wait for you.” you confirmed, running your fingers over the fabric of his shirt.

“Not forever though,” he added.

“I’d wait until I knew you were happier without me.”

“Yea, me too.” he agreed.

“I’d never be happier without you.”

Current Time - December 14th

One thing that you never doubted in your relationship was whether or not Luke loved you. You knew he did. It was something that had always been casual between the two of you, it was as much a greeting as it was anything else.

As the sun rose and broke through your curtains the words to break the silence that lingered from the night before wasn’t “Good morning” it was “I love you.” Before leaving for work instead of an impersonal “Bye!” you shouted “Love you!” through the closing door of your apartment. It was a phrase that had been repeated millions of times, and despite the casualness of it all, it never lost its meaning.

Even now, five years since you’d last seen him you knew with every bone in your body that no matter where he was right now, half the world away or two blocks downtown, he still loved you.

Luke always kept his promises, a million times he had promised that he would always love you. And a million times you had promised it right back.

A hundred years apart wouldn’t change that, let alone five.

Five years ago - December 13th

You watched the snow fall from the living room window, what you would normally find peaceful was making you go insane. It had been perpetually silent around your apartment for the past couple of weeks. Luke was hardly ever home, when asked he would tell you that he had a big project at work and needed to teach the new intern how things were done in the office. You hadn’t thought much of it, there were times when you were busy and had to put things with him on the back burner to focus on the uncertainty of work. It had never been an issue because as far as you were concerned things were set between you and Luke. There was the unspoken promise of forever.

Of course, that didn’t stop you from missing him tons. On this specific occasion the cold weather had left you with clogged sinuses and a bad headache, one that you would typically soothe with a cup of earl grey from the cafe and an abundance of snuggling. Since Luke wasn’t around to fulfill your touch deprivation you decided that wearing one of his favorite sweatshirts would have to do for now.

You blindly reached into his drawer to search for it but stopped when your hand caught on a folded piece of paper. You pulled it out and walked to the bed, flicking on the lamp as you sat. Once the light turned on you were able to see it clear as day, two airline tickets to Sydney departing on the 20th and returning on January 3rd. The two of you had briefly discussed travelling to Australia at some point so you could finally meet his family but nothing had ever been confirmed.

The naivety that had always been a part of who you were began to connect non-existent dots with hopeful lines. Luke was planning on surprising you with Christmas in Australia with his family. It explained why he was never home, it also explained the secretive phone calls you had started picking up on after he scurried out of bed in the middle of the night a while ago to speak to someone in hushed tones just outside the bedroom door.

That night when he finally got home at nearly eleven you had made sure to leave half a muffin with a note that read, “Miss you, stud muffin. You work too hard. Love you -y/n” on the kitchen counter. From where you laid in bed, you could hear him laugh as he read it aloud. You quickly sat up in bed when the laughs you were reveling in started to sound like sobs.

The dim lighting in the kitchen didn’t stop you from seeing the tears on Luke’s face as he looked up to where you stood, stunned in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” you hurried to him.

He made a sniffing sound before gathering you in his arms. He held you so tight that if it wasn’t so sincere it might’ve hurt.

“Lu, what’s going on.” you squeaked out.

He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair, emitting soft cries every so often.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“I swear I’ll always love you. I swear.”

“I know. Hey, Lu I know.” you soothed as his breaths became more labored.

At some point you had managed to calm him down and coax him into bed, you reasoned that he was just so tired that his feelings got the best of him, something that had happened to you many times before. And honestly you were just happy to be back in his arms once again, so when he was wrapped around you in bed, his hands playing with your hair like they always did when he got anxious, you didn’t think twice about it when he said,

“We need to talk tomorrow, over breakfast. We can go to the café if you want?”

You nodded against his chest as sleep overtook you, the last thing you heard being “I promise I’ll always love you.”

Current Time - December 14th

Your reminiscing was interrupted by a high pitched screech from the front of the cafe. When you followed the sound your eyes landed upon a distressed toddler, about three years old if you to guess, who was pouting up at a tall, gorgeous woman that was apologizing profusely to Olive for her son’s outbreak. You wouldn’t have looked twice at the scene if it wasn’t for the way Olive’s troubled expression and wide eyes were directed precisely on you.

The child was screaming through his cries “I want daddy’s muffin!” His face was red and blotchy from tears and the cold weather but didn’t completely overtake his creamy skin tone that complimented his familiar blue eyes. He was an adorable kid, a full head of blonde ringlets and chubby cheeks that you were sure turned a light pink when he smiled.

He kind of reminded you of Luke. When the thought entered your head you were quick to dismiss it though, because if you were being honest most things reminded you of Luke.

“I’m so sorry about this. He isn’t normally so loud, it’s just that my husband loves these muffins and he promised Sammy one.” you heard the gorgeous woman say.

“It’s fine, the cranberry orange muffin is a big hit around here. They sell out almost everyday.” Olive responded, her eyes unbreaking from yours.

“Yea that’s what Luke always tells me.”

Five years ago - December 14th

The walk to the café felt longer than it typically did and you had no idea why, for some reason you didn’t notice that Luke was dragging his feet. Maybe it was because you were sure that this impromptu breakfast date was to tell you of the surprise Christmas trip to Australia. Maybe it was because any amount of extra time you got to spend holding Luke’s hand in your own you considered a gift.

When you finally arrived you were quick to usher him to your favorite table, one that was secluded in the corner, enough to have a bit of privacy but also allowed you to people watch on slow days and have telepathic conversations with Olive from across the room.

You noticed that Luke wasn’t eating after a few minutes, his muffin half sat untouched in front of him and his nervous demeanor was driving you crazy.

“I have to admit something.” you finally said, tired of the silence.

Luke nodded for you to continue but refused to meet your eyes as you spoke.

“I know about Australia, I found the tickets in your drawer so if that’s what you're so nervous about, there’s no need. Of course I’ll go with you, you have no idea how excited I am to meet your mom, she can finally show me all those baby pictures that she’s always telling me about.” you were so busy picturing your potential trip to Luke’s hometown that you didn’t notice Luke’s teared up eyes and anxious tapping.

“Y/n, the tickets aren’t for-” he cut himself off before the approaching crack in his voice could prevail. “I met someone.”

“Okay?”

You didn’t even know what that meant, he met someone? You met people all the time, what does that have to do with the trip? You lifted your mug to take a sip while you waited for him to continue.

“I mean I-I have feelings for someone, uh someone else.”

You didn’t even feel your grip release, you didn’t hear the shattering noise, you didn’t feel the scorching liquid seep through your top onto your skin.

Luke was leaving you. He fell in love with someone else. It was serious enough that he was bringing her home. Luke was leaving you. Luke was leaving you. Luke was leaving you.

“I don’t understand.” The crying had already begun, and although it didn’t surprise Luke he couldn’t bear to watch it. He stared at the spilled tea and shards of glass. The entire cafe’s eyes were on you and you didn’t even notice all you could see was that Luke’s weren’t.

“Look at me.” you pleaded. There was a time when he would’ve seen your face, seen how distressed you were and gone back on everything solely because it hurt him too much to see you hurt.

When did that stop? Why hadn’t you noticed?

“I love you y/n, really I do. But I love her too.”

“You love her more.” you didn’t even try to phrase it as a question, there was no point, you already knew the answer. He must’ve loved her more because he was leaving you for her. Luke was leaving you.

Your acknowledgement of his feelings didn’t make it hurt any less when he didn’t deny it. Luke was leaving you.

You sat in silence for at least five minutes, it felt like years. Luke watched you cry, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms, and sway you back and forth until you stopped. He wouldn’t do that because it was selfish, it would ease his troubles more than yours, he deserved to see how his hurtful actions affected the one he swore to shield from any and all pain.

“I’ll have everything out of the apartment by the end of the week.”

The end of the week? You had planned on spending the rest of your life with him and he was telling you that he would essentially be out of your life by the end of the week. Luke was leaving you. None of it felt real.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I love you.”

Watching him leave felt surreal, you couldn’t hear anything but your blood pumping, you hardly took any notice when Olive rushed to your table and pulled you into her embrace.

Luke left you.

Current time - December 14th

You could feel his presence as soon as he stumbled out of the bathroom.

How could you have missed him coming in?

You dragged your eyes up his body from his feet, and when they fell upon his face it was like someone had pressed play after fast forwarding through the years that had been taken from you. You weren’t 23 anymore, and Luke certainly wasn’t either. He’d always had a strong build, but he held himself differently now. He was confident and collected, very sure of himself. He had a bit of scruff lining his jaw but you could tell it was well kept and intentional and a pair of black rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. You reacquainted yourself with his appearance from your spot in the corner.

With each subtle change you catalogued in your brain, vivid images danced through your head, like a kaleidoscope of what could’ve been. You saw lazy Sunday mornings on the couch leisurely sipping coffee, the open windows next to you bringing in a sweet breeze making the house smell like fresh grass after it rains. You saw yourself pushing a stroller through a park, Luke chasing behind one of your little ones just a few feet ahead. You saw roadtrips, vacations, theme parks, crowded family dinners, trick or treating, white gowns, and wedding cakes. You saw binkies, and bottles, tangled sheets, ruffled hair, pecks on the forehead, lunch boxes, and I love you notes.

The last scene you saw, one that felt so real you could’ve sworn you were really there, started with Luke sitting on the floor surrounded in wrapping paper a toddler curled up in his lap. He wore flannel pajama pants and a ratty shirt he had purchased at the concert you went to for your third date. He took sips from his mug of lukewarm coffee every so often, and you were sure if you got close enough you’d be able to smell it on his breath, not that you would mind. His curls were grown out more than he typically liked them, they were messy from sleep and obstructing his vision slightly. Just as you reached out to brush them from his forehead, it was like you had been thrown backwards by a force strong enough to make your stomach drop.

Reality.

You could still see Luke from where you stood but he was so far away now. You reached your hand out again, gasping in shock when it hit a sheet of glass, you knocked against it firmly but nothing happened. It was like a window where you watched the scene unfold. A woman you had been in the same position as not seconds ago stood up and revealed her face. It was his wife, she handed Luke a small gift bag and waited patiently as he opened it. He acknowledged the gift, a framed photo of the two of them and leaned forward to press a thank you kiss to her lips.

“Stop!” you called.

No one can hear you.

“Luke, I’m right here.” you yelled, slamming an open hand to the glass.

Hot tears fell from your cheeks as you continued to knock and shout.

“Lu, please.”

As he pulled away from the kiss a grin plastered his face. And it hit you, he was happy. He really was happy.

Realization of the thing you dreaded the most in the world happened quickly, but not painlessly. Luke’s eyes flicked to your own, he saw you through the window. He saw you calling for him, crying for him, begging for him. He saw you and then he looked away.

And reality snapped you back yet again, right into the present moment. You were in your café, staring at your empty mug, your face felt hot and wet. When had you started to cry? You reached a shaky hand out for a napkin to wipe your tears, but ended up knocking the mini poinsettia pot in front of you over instead. A crash echoed through the café and everyone turned their attention to you and your frantic demeanor. Everyone, even Luke.

You forced your eyes up from the glass that sat shattered on the white tablecloth with slow movements and shallow breaths until they finally found the culprit, the reason for your pain. You could see right through the light blue of his eyes, shock and bittersweet nostalgia pooled in the cerulean waves.

Just like you were suddenly 29 and hurt when you saw Luke. He was suddenly 20 and enamored when he saw you.

He physically winced while taking notice of the black streaks that cascaded down your cheeks. It reminded him of leaving you. It was all his fault.

He met your gaze with a desperate one of his own, silently praying that you could still read him well enough to understand.

His eyes released unspoken declarations with every slow blink.

I can’t believe I’m seeing you. I miss you. I still love you. I’ll always love you.

You can’t be here right now. I’m with my family. I’m happy now. I’m happy without you.

Every silent, stabbing confession all summed up into one that you had been afraid of for the entire eight years that Luke Hemmings had stolen from you.

I love you, but somehow that stopped being enough.

The place was silent. All eyes on you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You weren’t quite sure who you were apologizing to or what for, it could’ve been to Olive for making yet another mess that she would end up cleaning. It could’ve been to all the customers you disrupted when you broke the flower pot. Or Luke’s son who you had stolen a muffin from. Or maybe his wife, that you had been demonizing in your head for years, seeing her only as the woman who stole the love of your life. It could’ve been to Luke, you were sorry you hadn’t taken him seriously, he was in love and he had a family and you were still waiting around for the day he decided to come back for you. The day that would never come.

Deep down though, you knew you were saying it to yourself. Eight years is a long time, you had stopped living for yourself a long time ago. You did miss Luke, of course you did but maybe part of the hole in your chest that you had been so desperately trying to fill, was yourself. You really missed you. You without Luke. How could you have forgotten about her?

“I have to go.” this time you knew exactly who you were talking to and as your feet carried you to the door you didn’t even contemplate turning around when Luke’s voice broke through the silence of the café to say,

“Y/n, wait!”

You kept walking, past the stunned patrons, past Olive, past Luke. You kept walking until you were sure that no one would catch up. You just kept walking because after all this time you were so done waiting.

#luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos imagines #luke 5sos #5sos one shots #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings drabble #luke hemmings one shots #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x fem!reader #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings au

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heauxzenji · 4 years

Note

I'm not sure if u take requests but if u do could u write a NSFW alphabet for Issei?¿ ♡

So lemme tell you something- I got this req and the first thing that came out of my mouth was BIIIIIIIIITTTTCCCCHHHHHH

And I proceeded to scream cry and yell about this for idk how long. I put so much thought into this- I literally wrote it in almost one night completely. I have SO much to say about this man. My Issei brainrot is only fueled by my stupid horny Pisces brain- WHICH HE ALSO HAS god bless him. Anyway enough about me this turned my mind into soup and it all fell out of my ears enjoy ur fucking horse cock

NSFW Alphabet- Matsukawa Issei

No thoughts head he. 😌

gn!reader focused, obviously nsfw....

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Best Service Dom. Best Dom EVER. Anything you want you get, you have to only say the words. Food? Already ordered so it would be there by the time you finished. Cuddles? His arms are wide open and his body is very warm. Sit in a bubble bath and scroll through your favorite online stores? The bath is nice and warm and his credit card is at your disposal. He takes amazing care of you, and will stop at nothing to make you feel secure/safe/happy at all times..

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

Welll…. I… we all know what it is. I’ll explain more later but in addition to that he also has the most amazing arms/abs. He’s very lean, definitely naturally so. Doesn’t need to work out but does so anyway keep toned.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Likes to cum inside you, but simply so that he can watch it ooze out of your hole. Sometimes he’ll even keep fucking you after he’s finished to see himself push it back in even after it’s out.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

I hate adding this but he has a foot fetish. Not like a hardcore creepy kind of foot fetish- he just likes to suck a toe here and there. But only if they’re freshly pedicured… he’s very picky. He’ll give foot massages all the time tho if you ask him. He just never tells anyone about it because he knows his friends will clown him.

Not ur foot but close enough he would get you one of those little golden name anklets and kiss it every time he lifts your leg over his shoulder. 👀🦋

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Absolutely. He’s done a lot in his life, and is not short on any stories of past encounters. He is kind of a sex encyclopedia, but he’s very casual about it. If you bri bc up something you wanna try, 11/10 times he’s going to not only have done it, but be able to suggest ways for you to make it better- with several anecdotes.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Doesn’t just like doggy- it is his lifeblood. It’s easier for him to control your movements while also making sure that he can bury himself all the way inside. He can have a vice grip on your hips one moment, his fists full of your hair the next- and if he starts spanking you well… that’s between you two and god.

He does like plain old missionary too, but only bc he can see himself in your tummy.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

It makes him laugh sometimes when you struggle to take him all at once. He thinks it cute that you try, but it’s hilarious how big your head gets sometimes. He has to fuck you dumb and remind you that you can’t do that.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

Trims, but not super short. He does wax his happy trail tho bc it makes him self-conscious.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

Can actually be very romantic if he wants to. He is a Pisces, after all. He does enjoy foreplay and the sensuality of that to get you prepped, and he takes extra care to make sure you’re fully ready. He is going to be hard on you, but understands that he has to take good care of you, and he does

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Daily. At least once. It keeps the stress away and livens his mood. He does it as soon as he wakes up, and then if he’s having a really hard day or difficulty sleeping, he can do it to ease his nerves.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Size, obvious because everyone is smaller than him Skdkfkf he’s a giant. He’s 6’2 and his cock is at least 3 feet of that.

Daddy Kink, self explanatory mostly. It’s just so fucking sweet on his ears, his baby cooing for their daddy, trying so hard to work his entire cock into their tiny hole, trying to be so good for him… he loses it every time.

Voyeurism, likes watching you touch yourself. He finds it amusing how you think you can get yourself there without his help. You both know that’s impossible, but it turns him on to see you try.

Praise, again- he loves to make you feel special. And you work so hard fitting all of him inside, he has to tell you how good of a job you’re doing, especially because he’s appreciative of you letting him impale you. He has to let you know.

Mutual Masturbation, Kinda goes with voyeurism. If you’re away from each other, you’re definitely going to have sex via FaceTime- he just wants to see you, and also wants you to see him. To him, it lets you know you’re the only one that can get him there, and that your presence alone- even if he’s not touching you, is more than enough.

Lingerie, Loves nothing more than seeing you all pretty for him. He also just really likes the feeling of lace or silk against his fingertips He can get out of control and rip your sets tho- but don’t worry, death is a very lucrative business- He will buy you several replacements.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

LOVES car sex. If the mood strikes, he WILL pull over. But really, he’ll take it wherever he can get it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He’s very eager to please. A little lazy, yes, but at his core he wants to make sure you’re feeling good.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He has done literally everything at least once and the one thing he just can’t get into is piss. One bad experience and a 3 month uti later he’s sworn off it for good.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Not his favorite. He could honestly go with or without it personally, just because there’s so much of him. But he will happily fuck your throat if you want him to, and will go down on you for hours to make sure you’re truly prepped. For someone who’s not a big fan of it, he’s actually AMAZING with his mouth. It’s lazy but in the best way possible.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

Starts off slow so you’re good to go, but will pick up the pace as you stretch out. He does enjoy a few slow deep thrusts in between drilling you into oblivion tho. He never tries to make your guts into a smoothie on purpose, it just kinda happens that way.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He will never say no to quickie. The amount of fast food bathrooms and abandoned parking lots you’ve seen is astronomical. The amount of times Makki has kicked you out of his apartment for trying something while he goes to the bathroom is even higher.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

He's the classic degen. bf who reaches across the table at the same time as your dad when you go “daddy can you pass the salt?”

So yes, he’s definitely going to tease you under a table at thanksgiving dinner.

He’s really going to have you whenever he wants- even if it comes at the expense of your pride/morals sometimes.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Can go on forever if you let him. Will overstim you to hell and back before he even thinks about cumming. Doesn’t even know he’s doing it- he’s so used to fucking you brainless that he doesn’t realize it’s too much. But he is SUPER apologetic about it and will make sure to treat you extra carefully.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually has a few for when he’s feeling lazy. He used to run through fleshlights like they were tictacs but he’s since finally found one that he won’t break.

He got most of them for free because he worked in a sex shop during college- he was very popular.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Yes. He will 100% rile you up with touches that seem innocent enough in nature, but are a tad bit too low, or linger on for a bit too long.

Will also give you “the look” in public and pretend he doesn’t know what you’re talking about- he definitely does.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Vocal in bed, especially with praise. Will constantly tell you how good you’re doing or how good you feel. Doesn’t moan a lot, but they slip out from time to time. Instead it’s a lot of deep breaths, groans, and curses.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

If mortuary school hadn’t have worked out, he and Makki were going to start their own porn company. They actually have a very solid business plan. They made a pact to sit on it for now, since Issei is working at the funeral home.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

LMFAOOOOO

Literally a foot long. Longer actually. I’m going to honestly say 13. No I won’t take it back. Perfect thickness too. Honestly it’s like… god really took his time and got it fucking right. Everything about his physique is perfect- it would only make sense his cock is that perfect to match. Color is even all around, the head is bubblegum pink. There’s also one very prominent vein on the underside, and a few tinier trails of veins on the top. The statue of David? Don’t know her. Only know the statue of Issei.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

High sex drive, but he can keep it subdued if he has to. Especially because he knows he’s too much for most people. He's not shy about it though. Is CONSTANTLY horny on main. Not that you mind.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

Service Dom through and through. He won’t sleep until you do, and even if he’s dead tired, he won’t sleep at all if you’re staying awake. He’s going to do everything to take care of you and your needs first. When you do sleep he likes to hold your head to his chest and will press his nose down into your hair so he can fall asleep surrounded by your scent.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq headcanons #hq x reader #mattsun x reader #hq smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu drabble #hq drabble #haikyuu fic #hq fic

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imthatchishiyasimp · 3 years

Text

Loses and promises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hi!!! I'm back hehe

It took me a long time to wrap my head around this idea, but I think I like how it turned out. I've been busy with work and I didn't get to post anything this week, I'm sorry.

Also: BIG THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT, THE LIKES AND REBLOGS AND FOLLOWS!!! I didn't, in a million times, thought you would like this THAT much. I really appreciate it, love you so much.

Without further ado, enjoy the read!!

TW: Blood, death and injuries are both mentioned and described

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knock on his door, hard and fast. Jumping in one foot, I try to keep my balance while I tie my trainer. I rest my back on the door to prevent the obvious fall, and I finish tying the shoe. Except the door suddenly opens and I fall backwards pretty fast with a little scream.

“What the fuck?” He says, catching me by the shoulders and stepping back. “What do you want?” The question rolls with scepticism as he turns me around to face me.

I arch my eyebrows and point my finger to my wrist, simulating the time in a wristwatch.

“Already?” Chishiya hums and crosses his arms. “I must have lost track of time. Have they already made the teams?”

“Yup, and guess who’s going to annoy you for the rest of the night…”

He makes a face that’s supposed to look bothered. And he sure is bothered, he hates having to deal with me during games. But I can see through that. He’s not the only one that hates pairing in games; I do too. Not only because he’s annoying and always acts like he’s the only one worthy of winning, but because I would hate to be involved in a heart’s game with him. I know he would do anything to survive, anything, even if it kills him. And I would too. And he knows it.

“We are leaving in a few minutes. Get ready, you lazy ass” I turn around and head to my room to finish getting ready. I hear his breathy laugh just as he starts closing the door of his room. I might need something to protect myself, or something to get rid of people. Who knows what we will be facing tonight.

The car is full of people and smells like alcohol, drugs and sweat. It’s disgusting and I try to get my face as far as it can go through the window.

“Will you stop moving? It’s pretty uncomfortable and I hate the smell as much as you, so either you make me a place in that window or I throw you off my lap” Chishiya says, calmly and quietly near my ear. My hair blows as his breath leaves his lips and chills run through my body, keeping me so still that it seems as if I turned into rock.

Indeed I am in his lap, and indeed I have been moving. But just because I want to breathe fresh air. Just because of that. Sure. No reason behind.

I laugh, in silence, but I laugh. There were too many people in need of refilling their visas, so we had to pair in greater groups. And I was so not gonna sit in the laps of the horny people overbooking the Beach. So , after a huge fight, I made Chishiya sit under me, in exchange of looking for white hair dye.

I move just a bit more to play with him and I feel him tense under me, his hands coming to my hips. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop” So I move to the edge and get comfortable on his knees, leaving him a small place on the window to put his face.

We watch as the city moves in darkness, leaving behind flashes of light holding game’s arenas. I can hear distant music and screams, gunshots and creepy sounds. Maybe it’s real, maybe it’s my imagination, but I would swear on my visa that they won’t stop when the sun comes up. It’s been so long that even when I close my eyes I can still listen to the people dying in their games. I try to silence them with other things, and sometimes it works, but I’m getting tired of it.

The doors of a forest garden awaits us as we arrive. It’s a closed part of the outskirts of the city, enclosing a private area huge enough to get lost wandering around.

The tables at both sides of the door have the phones and some weapons. There’s no limit entry and it looks like there might be enough phones for the lot of us. There are five other people alongside Chishiya and I. I only know two of them: Hiro, the cook at the Beach, and Ume, a bookish girl that’s always lounging in the silent rooms. The rest look kind of familiar but I don’t remember talking to them.

I get off Chishiya’s lap with a hop and take a phone off the table. It beeps with the facial recognition and just says to wait ten minutes to close the entry.

“Want to bet on the game?” Chishiya asks, nodding to the doors.

“Probably a physical, given that we are so far from the city. So I would say a spade one” I guess. It looks like we will have a big arena, and probably something to run from, if we take into account the weapons.

“Looks like your brain hasn’t died yet” He moves before I can get him with a punch.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED, THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 7 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE”

All of us gather at the entrance, some of us already with weapons in our hands. I’ve chosen a blade big enough to protect me and some small knives hidden in my top and trainers. I don’t like guns and they run out of ammo quite quickly.

“DIFFICULTY: EIGHT OF SPADES”

“GAME: LABYRINTH”

“RULE: YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO CONTINUE IF YOU DON’T PASS THE TESTS. YOU MUST START ALONE, BUT YOU ARE NOT FORBIDDEN TO PAIR ONCE STARTED THE MAZE”.

“CLEAR CONDITION: FIND YOUR WAY AROUND THE MAZE AND SUCCESSFULLY OPEN THE EXIT DOOR. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN YOU GET THROUGH THE EXIT DOOR”.

“TIME LIMIT: 2 HOURS”.

“AFTER THE 2 HOURS HAVE PASSED, THE MAZE WILL BE SHUT DOWN WITH NO EXIT”.

The doors open and we enter the maze. There are several “starts” written on the floor at the entrance of different passages. The walls are so high that I can’t even try to guess what’s at the top. It’s too dark to see more than a few meters from your hands, and the cold is starting to get annoying.

The seven of us position ourselves one next to each other on the central passages and we wait. No sound can be heard, no light can be seen. It’s creepy as hell. I look sideways and I spot Chishiya lowering his hood and lifting his sleeves. He totally hates running, but you can bet he’s gonna give it all.

“GAME START”

Without hesitation, I sprint into my passage.

I’ve been running non stop since the beginning, and this maze is big as hell itself. People always tell you to stick to the left or right and you will get to the end, and that I’ve been doing. But just when I could. There are so many traps around, it’s like they didn’t think we could survive this, so they threw everything they got.

From knife floors, poison ponds, holes… My feet are done for the day, my legs are bathed in blood from the knives and spikes, and I feel kinda dizzy because of the poison gas. But I keep running. The time is halfway gone, and I don’t think I’m even close to the exit.

I haven’t heard any of the other players since the start. I’m a bit worried, and I keep going back to their faces at the car, at the entrance and the moment I lost sight of them when I started running. Will I see them again? How many of them? Will someone make it?

I turn to the left and get thrown to the floor with a nudge on the nose.

“Holy fuck!” I scream in agony, holding my bleeding nose. I would bet my visa on it, it’s broken for sure. Oh God it hurts too much. My face feels heavy and it stings deep inside.

“Jesus, where the hell are you going without looking? Are you stupid? You could have met some kind of trap, idiot”

I look up and catch a glimpse of white hair. But just a glimpse, because the whole rest of Chishiya is covered in ashes. The bastard just stays there, looking down at me without offering a hand. Totally expected that, to be honest.

I get up and punch him straight in the chest. He howls and gets away looking angry. “You deserved that, you totally smashed your elbow on my face on purpose. You were just waiting there to punch me”

“What the fuck? Why would I?”

I study the situation and try to look for lies, but it’s a lost cause with him. “Shut up and start running, we have a long way to go”

So both of us pair up and keep on running together, helping each other in a few traps to minimize the damage. We still get burned and sliced, but we manage to stay together for a good twenty minutes.

Until we don’t.

We are on an empty corridor surrounded by bindweed. What I thought was going to be a calm and peaceful section turns into a nightmare. From nowhere, ropes start to come out and try to catch our feet, arms and trunk.

Both of us jump and get down to escape from the ropes, sometimes getting too close to the bushes and winning new bruises everywhere. The strength that these things have is incredible and intolerable. It feels as if my bones are breaking under the knots. I grasp Chishiya’s hand to keep from getting sucked into the wall, and he takes me out of it. His hand grips mine with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, and I dwell on the feeling of his cold and soft fingers around mine, enjoying the safety his presence gives anywhere he is.

Lost in his eyes, which are making sure I’m not caught into any ropes anymore, we get pulled away in an instant and Chishiya disappears from my sight into the wall, his eyes not leaving mine.

“No! You bastard! You don’t get to abandon me here! Come back!” I scream into the bushes. I slice the ropes with my knives and get away from that corridor as fast as I can.

My face still hurts from the nudge, and my arm feels funny. Both my legs are covered in bruises and cuts from the ropes and the falls. I’m a mess. Everything hurts. Everything is a mess.

I go back to the feeling of finding him. Maybe I didn’t dwell on it, but I felt safer, I felt relieved to have some company; I felt happy to have him there with me, to back me up and get me through difficult things. Will I see him again? Is he okay? Will he be there?

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You better be there when I get off this fucking maze, or I will search for you to cut you into pieces” I whisper to the night, running again, looking behind me from time to time to check if he’s behind me, stoping just before a turn to prevent another hit. He totally did that on purpose.

I step into a two paths corridor. Both of them are covered in darkness and I can’t say which one looks better. Not wanting to lose any more time, I take the right one, although it doesn’t take me long to return. The blood covers the floor and gets sticky when I step into it. I bend over to see what’s in front of me and gulp down seeing the body of Hiro full of insects eating him alive.

He’s whimpering in pain and coughing blood, moving just a bit, probably paralyzed. I don’t know when he catches me, but his eyes get full of tears and he mouths a silent plea, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the blood. I remember when I met him, asking for a bite of something after a run through the city and hungry enough to eat whatever. He made me a simple sandwich, but I swear it was the best one I have ever had. He stayed in the kitchen with me, talking about his life and asking too many questions. Ever since then, he’s always been there when I needed to disconnect from the games, from the people, from the world. Always with a smile and a new recipe to try.

Now all that is left is pain and suffering.

Getting as close as I dare, I whisper a silent sorry and goodbye before ending his suffering. I run away and don’t look back at all, his face and pain engraved in my mind.

When I get to the exit I almost scream in relief. It’s a big door made of small bars with a big “EXIT” written in red above it. The time is almost up and I can’t see anyone here. The place where I came from is not the only way of getting here, there are three more corridors ending in this place.

The thing is, the doors are closed, and they have a huge key hole in the middle. I look around and I spot a key shining on the top of the door. It’s hanging by a thread, laughing at me from up there.

I scoff, tired as I can be, and I stop in front of the door. Guessing from the place where it is, I must need to climb through the door and it doesn’t seem dangerous at all, but I still don’t trust it. Checking the time I decide that I can’t risk it on trying to search for another way of getting the key, so I grasp the bars.

The heat burns through me and paralyzes me in the spot. I feel as if my hand is going to come off right now. I let go of the door and caress the palm of my hand, blowing air as kindly as I can, tears streaming down my face of the pain.

“FIVE MINUTES LEFT”

“I hate this. I hate it so much” Curses leave my lips as I get higher and higher, once again at the door and burning my hands and feet in the process. I can’t feel it anymore, I just know it’s painful and it’s going to leave ugly scars. I grip the key and rip it from the thread and throw myself to the floor, not caring to limb down properly.

The floor meets my back and I roll over. I would have stayed there, I swear. I was done with everything. My whole body was hurting, my mind was going blank and kept screaming.

“Tsk” I hear some rustling near me and then a foot nudges me on the back of my head. “Are you alive there?” I moan in response and turn over, glaring at the clever smirk of Chishiya. “Do you mind handing over the key? I’m in desperate need of a shower”.

“I don’t know, would you mind stopping hitting me on purpose?” I mumble through moans of pain.

He sighs and bends next to me, placing his face just above mine, our noses almost touching. I can feel his breath, the quick rhythm it still has, the cold and the smell of sweat and toxic reaching me.

“For the last time, I did not hit you on purpose” He whispers looking straight at me.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I question. You won't ever know with him.

“Trust me, if I had hit you on purpose, I would have done it a lot harder”. His eyes hold that smart look, the condescending vibes all around him, but I think I can see worry and relief and…

“Oh fucking hell, yes! You guys made it! We are saved and alive and… Oh God, two minutes left, tell me you know how to open that door or I will kill myself right here” One of the guys we came with sprouts from a passage, holding Ume’s limping form and followed by another guy who’s gripping a tourniquet around his arm. I’m glad to see most of us are alive after that hell.

Chishiya takes the fey from my hand with caution to not touch the burnt parts of my palms and fingers. He quickly pushes the key into the lock and pushes the door hard.

I don’t know why, but I was scared of it not opening. Silly, I know, but after so many games with tricks at the end, I didn’t know what to expect. The phones beep immediately, and I struggle to get up to a sitting position.

“GAME CLEAR”.

“CONGRATULATIONS”.

Relief flows inside all of us, dropping to the floor and crying happy tears. Is it really a win? It doesn't feel like that anymore. I think I've lost some things inside those walls and darkness.

I thought I was hurting, but in just a second, all the injuries I have, start to really hurt and the pain makes me close my eyes and shake like crazy. I might need a whole week of rest after this.

Arms come from behind me and take me up. I’m lost in the sudden change of position and it takes me a while to realize Chishiya is holding me in a bridal style. He quickly gets ahead of the rest, not caring to check if they are following us, and heads to the place we left the car.

It’s a long way until we get there and I nod off a few times, resting my head and hiding in his soft tingling hair, taking his scent apart from all the other ones. I don’t dream at all, it’s all blank, but I wake up startled looking for Hiro or Chishiya, afraid they’re not here anymore. I get sad and I cry silently when I remember Hiro’s body and scared face, pleading for mercy; and I sigh with relief when I feel Chishiya holding me tighter after I wake up shaking, crossing our eyes and making me feel safe with just a look.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again. Don’t even dare. Promise me” I angrily say after one of my nightmares. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t need him to. He just needs to know. I pretend I don’t see the almost imperceptible nod he does once I return to put my head on his chest.

The ride back is a blur. We have more space now that two of us are missing, but it’s heavy inside. I keep next to Chishiya, him holding me while I rest and sleep in between nightmares. None of us has said anything since we left the forest. We are all relieving our paths along the maze, the things we saw and the hopelessness we felt, the fear of being left there forever.

The sunrise marks our arrival at the Beach. People there are waiting for the cars still gone and they welcome us with joy and worry. We are rushed to the medical room to get checked up on, and although I try to walk there, pathetically I must say, I can feel Chishiya is ready to ame me in case I fall. He leaves once An puts me on a bed and starts treating my wounds.

But I know he will be back. He always comes back. He promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you liked it!! Give me some feedback and love if you might, I would love to hear from you.

As always, I'm still open to requests and comments. If you want me to tag you on the next post, do tell me!

Be safe and take care!!

#aib #alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #fic #oneshot #reader insert #shuntaro chishiya #spades game #imawa no kuni no arisu #imawa no kuni no alice

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 18

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +3.8k

Chapter warnings: mentions of captivity, kidnapping and death, hints of misogyny, even more feels omg

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode eight. // look guys at this point its all plot lmao, so yeah... also, please, please get ready, next chapter is gonna be almost the double of words and feels so... just a heads up

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @bratdjarin

The time after that call went faster and faster.

You found yourself running through the embassy hallways along with Feistl to let the ambassador know Javier had Christina Jurado with him, then assuring him she would be safer staying in your house, making sure Feistl backed you up so Crosby wouldn’t be a pain in the ass and asked you if you could handle any strong situations that may concur while she was with you.

Then you went and made some arrangements to get another field agent to be your second as Feistl and Van Ness still had to fix their own shit. By the time you finished running around, Javier was back.

The office was almost empty, spare from Stoddard furiously typing into his computer, from the entrance you could see Javier standing in the middle of his office with his arms crossed on his chest and Christina Jurado sitting in front of him in the loveseat, both in complete silence.

You almost ran through the bullpen when you saw him, crossing the doorframe to his office and throwing yourself at him.

“Fuck, you’re okay,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and fisting his shirt while he let out a soft oof. Javier let himself embrace you back, letting his arms down and around your waist, you shoved your head in the crook of his neck, not caring that he smelled like sweat and smoke and gunpowder and death.

You didn’t want to ask him what he had to do to bring back Christina, and you were sure he wouldn’t tell you.

Javier let out a heavy sigh when he felt you finally inside his arms again, for a moment he forgot where he was and let himself breathe you in and out, using you yet again as an anchor to the real world.

You broke the embrace and cupped his face, making double sure he was unscratched, making double sure he was whole, making double sure he was good, at least physically.

He didn’t hold your gaze; he was looking behind you and you turned around.

“Christina,” you muttered, she looked up at you quizzically and for some reason that you didn’t want to dive in at the moment, you wanted to hug her.

There she was, a gorgeous, brave woman who had spent days in a place you were sure was worse than hell, with people that didn’t care about her, sitting there in one of the safest places in Colombia, just waiting for her fate to happen.

You couldn’t stop your brain for comparing and making parallels of your life to hers; she was the wife of a narco accountant; she had been living under the radar for a long time and she seemed to hate it, she merely loathed it and everything that had to do with what her husband was doing; and you, unmarried, oddly loved and chasing down the guys that practically paid her bills. You were about the same age and yet your lives had taken deeply different paths. And both of those paths had brought you both there. To a shitty office in an american government facility in a country neither of you had been born in, looking into each other’s eyes, relating to each other on more than one level.

For a moment you let yourself think what would’ve happened if you would’ve been the one that talked to her instead of Javier. It was a horrible thought; it was terrible to think and utterly useless, but maybe, just maybe, some things wouldn’t have happened.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice was deep and quite hoarse, she leaned to rest her hands on her legs and you stepped towards her.

“I’m agent Martín, I’m gonna be with you until your flight tomorrow morning,” you explained to her, and you saw her let out a sigh, as if she was more relieved with you there “I’m gonna take you to my house so you can clean up and get some sleep, if that’s okay with you,” you saw her look at you with precaution and pondered the answer, then she just nodded.

“Is Javier gonna come?” she asked, bewaringly, you looked at her attentively and she glanced at him behind you for less than a second. You knew she had seen what he did to get her out of the place she was in and you understood, with the way she was sitting and staring at everything but him, that she wasn’t really fond of the methods.

“No, he’s not,” you assured her, feeling the deep stare of Javier in your back. Christina deflated slowly and breathed in, as if relieved, you stretched your hand to her. She looked at it and then looked at you for a few seconds, deciding if she would trust you or not, you tried to give her a reassuring smile and she took your hand, standing up, “have you eaten?”

“No,” she looked at the floor as you guided her to the door. You turned to look at Javier and he was frowning at the way you were managing the situation. You didn’t need to read his expression or his body language to know he just felt guilty because he didn’t have the same rapport in him. At least not anymore.

He wanted to ask you what the hell were you thinking to take Christina out of the building, but instead just looked at you, trusting you would at least read in his face how insecure about it he was feeling. You shook your head once and gave him a hard stare. He stiffened, and tightened his jaw, then mimicking you and nodding as well, knowing he had to let you do your part.

“Let’s get you some food as well,” you muttered to Christina, who turned to look at Javier one last time.

“Thank you,”

“Don’t thank me, let’s go, someone is waiting for us downstairs and you have a flight early in the morning,” you said, pulling her softly a bit closer to you, as you both walked out of the office.

The next morning came by. You and Christina were sitting in the backseat of Javier’s suv, him driving and another agent sitting next to him in the co-pilot’s seat. Christina was looking through the window, watching Bogotá waking up with her arm curled around yours.

The drive was quiet but tense, and while you felt Javier’s staring at you through the rearview mirror, you remembered the conversation you had with Christina when you arrived at your place the night before.

“Are you Javier’s girlfriend?” she had asked you, sitting on the couch, waiting for you to finish talking with the other agent that had to spend the night at your door and settle next to her. By the way she had asked you could notice it had no double meaning, she was genuinely curious.

“You… could say that,” you replied, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling, “we don’t really have a name for… this,” for some reason you didn’t know you found Christina really trustworthy. You reasoned that it was maybe because she was trusting you to take care of her safety until she could be in her own country, so it was the logical thing to trust her back. She sighed at your reply.

“I don’t think you really need a tag, y’know,” she had said, and you nodded. She kept quiet for a moment and then grabbed your hand, her skin was cold and her hands were shaking, “I also fell in love with a dangerous man,” she said, making your breath hitch.

“Christina…”

“Don’t let him do to you what being married to Franklin did to me,” she muttered, almost as in secrecy. You looked at her and wished you could just take away all the shit she had lived in all the time she was captive.

The sentence lingered in your mind and settled itself in that nagging part of your brain that made you overthink things. You didn’t know exactly if she was referring to the inevitability of danger into the jobs her husband and your… Javier had, or maybe something else.

She tightened the grip on your hand, bringing you back to the moment, and for a second she lost herself, staring at everything and nothing at the same time. You wanted to ask her so many things and make sure she was okay. You didn’t find the strength in you to take her out of her trance, knowing maybe that was just her way to cope with… everything.

“I didn’t know if I was going to get out of there,”

“Christina,” you called her and she looked at you, still absentminded “I’m sorry, I have to ask, did they… do anything to you?” the question took her by surprise and her eyes watered. You could see she was already tired of crying and by that point she was past feeling sad. You watched her take her time to answer with expectation, and she shook her head, provoking your chest to fill with air, contented that at least they had spared her that one horror.

“No, they didn’t, but they wanted to,” she had muttered, making you shiver.

It amazed you how receptive your body was being to what she said. And yet again, you realized that you couldn’t avoid comparing yourself to her.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Christina,” you told her, putting your other hand on top of hers that was gripping you. She looked at you and narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Are you really?” her question caught you off guard more than you would’ve expected, she was asking again, genuinely, still having some barrier that wasn’t thrown for you, and you couldn’t blame her for that. You could see she still was scared of something or someone and you could also see that she was angry, not exactly directly at you, but angry.

“Of course I am, I was supposed to bring you to a safe place when you were… when they took you,” her trembling hands moved awkwardly and she stared at you “after Javi arrested your husband, he told me to go to your house and get you to safety, but when I got there, you called him and told him you saw cops and left,” you remembered the call Javier had given you after that, you still recalled the tone of his voice, desperate and frustrated, similar to the one Franklin Jurado had in one of his calls with Christina. You wondered if that could be taken as a parallel of your relationship, but decided not to go there, wasn’t really useful to keep comparing.

“That’s when he told me to go to the embassy,” Christina muttered and you nodded, her gaze got lost again and once again, you saw something inside her eyes that screamed and shouted even though she was sitting in front of you in almost utter silence. She was angry, so, so angry. And you couldn’t blame her for that either.

“I was actually waiting for you,” you told her, she sighed and you bit your lip again, “and when you didn’t arrive I just… I’m just really glad you’re safe, you didn’t deserve any of that,”

Christina shook her head a few times and took a deep breath.

“No, I didn’t” her reply confirmed what you were just seeing. You wanted to tell her so many things, you wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone, that she was going to get through all the shit, that she was going to see her husband and that even though he was in jail, he was protected and she would be able to rebuild her life, no longer in the shadows, you wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay… But you didn’t, because you didn’t know that. “what’s gonna happen to me now?” she asked, and for the first time since you’d been talking, you heard a tremble in her voice, hesitation, insecurity, and it didn’t suit her.

“He’s gonna fly you home, you’re gonna see your husband” you had said, trying to make things at least a little more bearable, but she just let out a huff and turned to you.

“Are you coming?” Christina asked, her eyes set in you. You weren’t sure if you had that kind of power.

“Do you want me to?”

“Please”

After that you showed her the bathroom, gave her some of your clothes and almost forced her to sleep in your bed. Then, when you were sure she was at least more comfortable than she was when she arrived, you had called Javier to tell him she wanted you in the plane with her.

You arrived at the airport and Christina was escorted by you, Javier, the other agent that had spent the night at your place’s door, and two police officers. You got settled in a private waiting room and Javier made sure the only ones inside it were Christina, you and him.

“I’m really sorry for taking away your clothes,” Christina said, still grabbing your arm, you were watching Javier looking through the window of the room and turned to her, shaking your head.

“Don’t be, they look better on you,” you reassured her, feeling quite better with yourself for having her smiling at you, a female voice talks through the speakers and Javier turns to you, he captures back your attention and you give him a small smile.

“In less than an hour, we’re on that plane,” he says to Christina and walks to sit behind the two of you “your husband knows, he’ll be waiting for ya,”

Christina said nothing, she just squeezed your hand and you for once tried to be silent, not wanting to meddle in whatever they had, as the mood inside the room had changed and apparently you were the only one that could feel and almost see the palpable tension they had with each other.

“It’s all behind you now, Christina,” Javier muttered, you turned to see him with narrowed eyes and a quirk in your face that asked him if he really just said that.

“And you think I should thank you for that?” Christina rhetored bitterly at him, not even bothering to look at him, you turned to see her and realized who her anger was directed to. And you… understood.

“No, no I don’t” Javier deepened his voice at her.

“No, you think you’re a hero because you, what, executed a bunch of farmers to get me out so that my husband would testify for you?” Christina’s hand gripped yours harder and you tried to keep your calm. You could feel Javier’s gaze glued to your face and you didn’t turn to see him. Not ready to see in his face what you thought you had heard in his voice.

“I did what I had to do and I’m sorry for what happened to you,” your head snapped almost involuntarily at him, your eyes wide and your mouth parted in surprise. He tried to remain serious but he knew you almost completely and you knew him as well. You saw in his face that he really didn’t mean it, you saw in his face that he was only saying it because his ego was hurt. And you noticed in the way he was avoiding your eyes that he knew you already knew. Un fucking believable.

“No,” Christina looked at him and made a quirk that told you she really didn’t believe him, and you couldn’t help but notice the difference at the gesture her face made the night before, when you told her the same thing. You bit your lip to avoid popping out and ask her why she did believe you but didn’t believe him, but you were pretty sure you already knew why. “no you’re not, and you know it,” your gaze stayed in Javier’s face, in his thumb brushing his lower lip, in how his eyes looked at everything but you or her or himself, on how he had stretched his legs to the sides and left his hand hanging, and you saw it, one of his many faces but not the one you were expecting to see, not the one you wanted to see. The agent face. The police enforcement mask, one that showed, maybe even unconsciously, that he only cared about the operative, about the mission, about the main goal. Not about the woman that had lived through hell and he had pulled her out of there himself “you’re a piece of shit.”

Christina turned to the front, still holding your hand and your eyes were trying to get Javier to look at you.

Javier knew himself, he couldn’t bear to look at you because he knew you already had a pretty clear idea of what was going through his head and he was embarrassed. Because he knew you cared, he knew you cared deeply and he felt guilty that he didn’t care as much as you did, he felt embarrassed at the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to, he really did, but he was just so damn tired.

Exhausted didn’t convey exactly how he felt, he didn't even know if there was a word that could fully express how he was feeling sitting there in the middle of an almost empty waiting room in an airport waiting to take a woman he had promised himself to take care of to convince her husband to risk his life and betray his employers.

Javier thought Christina was right, he was a piece of shit. A piece of shit that didn't deserve to look at your beautiful, ever understanding eyes.

Javier didn’t look at you, and you didn’t like the way he was acting. And for a brief moment you saw a flash of something running through his face. It was anger but wasn’t, it was sadness but not quite, it looked like pride. Was his… ego, hurt?

The time to board the flight came and you felt Christina relax besides you. The whole convoy of police enforcement was escorting Christina to the gate when Javier’s phone rang.

“Yeah,” Javier answered the call and you turned to look at him next to you, “yeah, we’re about to get on the plane, we’ll be in Miam–” he was suddenly cut off, he stopped walking and you did too, Christina saw you and turned to see what was going on “when?” he asked into the phone and a shiver went down your spine, the woman beside you felt your body stiffen as Javier finally looked into your eyes and with one single glance told you everything, “let me call you back.”

“What happened?” Christina asked, trembling next to you, as if she already knew the answer.

“He’s dead” you murmured, still looking into Javier’s eyes. You felt a heavy pull next to you and suddenly a pair of officers were next to you. Christina was collapsing on the floor.

Javier’s eyes fell to Christina as yours filled with unwanted tears. Why were you crying? you quickly tried to analyze what you were feeling and learned that it wasn’t really because of the case, the case and the trial and the testimony was all shit anyway, you knew it, but he didn’t.

It was because your mind was playing with the parallels. You related to Christina even if she didn’t relate to you, and now she lost her husband, while Javier was standing in front of you feeling guilty for all the pain he thought he had caused. You could see the irony, then the question was if you were about to lose Javier as well.

“She needs to go to Miami anyway,” Javier said to you a few moments later. You nodded. His eyes were in yours and he stole a handgrip from you “let’s go,” he said, aiming to walk away from the gate, you frowned at him, giving him a look that asked him if he was out of his mind. He felt a tug in his chest, knowing already you would fight his plea.

“Don’t leave,” Christina was being helped to stand and she grabbed your other hand, making Javier drop the one he had taken, you could see the hesitancy in his face.

“She’s gonna be escorted all the way back to Miami,” Javier’s tone was dubious, the way you were looking at him made him doubt himself for the briefest of moments.

“I’m gonna go with her and make sure she gets to safety” you said. Javier sighed at your willful tone of voice.

“Florencia,” he called and you tightened your jaw, you knew he knew better than to try and contradict you right there and then.

“I’m going,” your voice softened slightly and you turned to Christina “can you go ahead and board? I’ll be right behind you,” you reassured her, she nodded slowly and one of your partners helped her get to the gate, you turned back to look at Javier, noticing how much he was struggling to come up with something to say. “whatever that was, back in the waiting room, I need space from that,” you blinked your unshed tears away and he just nodded back at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about and understanding, begrudgingly, why you wanted to be away from him for a while “I’ll be back tonight and maybe we can talk,”

“I don't thin–”

“Javier,” you cut him off, shaking your head softly to stop him “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Your hand reached to his wrist and you gripped it as strongly as you could for a few seconds, his eyes seemed a bit lost and even though you knew he was having a thousand and one reasons to not let you go, to keep you in Bogotá with him, to need you with him, you had one strong reason to get away from him at least for a day.

One that made you feel hypocritical and traitorous; if he reacted with little empathy and pride to what Christina had told him, how the fuck would he react when you told him the truth?

So you let go of him, gave him a last stare and turned around to walk to the gate, board the plane and take Christina home. For the first time, while flying through the Gulf of Mexico, you had plenty of time to think about all the mess that you had gotten into. And your mind came to one conclusion: there was no way on earth that Javier would forgive you for what you were doing to him.

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mithrilwren · 4 years

Text

Here we go, the cadwulf that wouldn’t let me sleep in this morning. How did this ship happen to me so quickly, and why did my brain decide it needed to be poetic... these are questions that may never be answered.

[Also on Ao3!]

“You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” Eodwulf grins, arms uncrossing. “Is there anything you do like?”

“Well,” says Caduceus.

Eodwulf’s fingers brush the edge of his hair.

“Well?”

And Caduceus never finishes the thought.

---

It turns out they can be persuaded - Astrid, and Eodwulf. Though it’s really Astrid who accepts their second invitation. Eodwulf’s eyes flicker to her before agreeing, and Caduceus notices, as he did the night of the dinner. A hierarchy, it seems, wherein Trent is lord, and Astrid advisor - which leaves Eodwulf a vassal of some sort. Not unacknowledged, but lower down.

Still, when Astrid has drifted to the bar and Caleb and Jester follow, and Fjord and Veth ply Eodwulf for one more round, he has no one to look to for guidance. Caduceus might have expected him to seem lost, except he flourishes under the inattention, growing bolder, more boastful - challenging Yasha to a test of strength, and losing, but only just - and Caduceus’s own attention grows, as bulky muscle strains beneath fine black velvet.

(Tonight, it was Eodwulf who pulled back his chair. “A favour for a favour,” he’d said with a wink, and Caduceus would not have blushed, only it’s strange - nobody’s paid him the courtesy before.

But Eodwulf’s dark eyes were shining with mirth, and he’d blinked his own brighter ones, and taken a seat without a single word of protest.)

The evening is spent in distraction. Eodwulf and Astrid, from their lives of solitude and scrambling; the Mighty Nein, from the next long road ahead; and Caduceus, from his good senses. It’s an indulgence, to pretend that Eodwulf’s attentions to him are anything beyond a man who appreciates a like sense of humour. But Caduceus pretends nonetheless, and grows freer by measures, enjoying the warmth of good natured teasing as much as any liquor flush.

Flirting, he’s tried before, but it never seemed to hit the mark, and his own eyes flicker to Fjord, and Caduceus brings them forcefully back to Eodwulf’s hands on the table - now rough there, now soft another place - one slapping for another drink, the other calling Caduceus over - and Melora help him, he goes.

For the wine of attention is sweet, and sticky red on Eodwulf’s lips, and he thinks he should be allowed to taste it, while he has the chance.

Surely, by now, he’s earned that much.

---

Caduceus is not a man quick to anger. If pressed, he would say he hates nothing at all.

But he hates-

He hates Trent Ikithon.

He hates what he’s done to Caleb, and what he continues to do to the people in his care, and he hates that his lies are not lies in a way Caduceus can discern with a keen eye and a careful glance. They are written in the bone, in the flesh. The body is so corrupted it can no longer tell rot from flower, nor truth from falsehood.

There is no saving this man.

But there may be hope for the others.

Righteous rebellion is the name he gives to the fluttering in his stomach, as they draw Eodwulf - Astrid as well - closer into their circle. A big ol’ middle finger to Trent, as Beau would say. To save someone who sees no way out, from under the nose of a being of impossible strength-

He’s done it before.

So, too, he names the fluttering excitement, and anticipation. Even remembrance, of the way Fjord looked at him, the day he’d given him the Wildmother’s symbol, and Caduceus had almost thought-

But no, he’d thought wrong.

And here he is, ready to make the same mistakes again.

Eodwulf looks at him from across the table. Astrid is down the way, but he never once glances her direction as he asks, “Something not agreeing with you?”

It’s care, in a gruff sort of sense. His deep voice rumbles through Caduceus’s chest, in the way he knows his own does for other people. Yasha sometimes says that it helps her sleep, so he’ll talk the night away, telling nonsense stories until they both drift off.

What would it be like, to curl up in those arms, be held close to that impossibly broad chest? To be small, and large as well - as much as he needs, in whatever direction?

He pushes the thought away.

(Sometimes, he tires of being the one who has to know where the lines are.)

Eodwulf taps his fingers on the table, still looking at him thoughtfully. “I could use some air,” he says, and raises an eyebrow. Caduceus nods, unable to break Eodwulf’s steady gaze, because try as he might, the thought keeps returning, again and again.

They leave together, slipping out into the Rexxentrum night, and the rational part of Caduceus’s mind cries danger, to be separated from his party and alone in the company of their enemy’s servant, and the lonely part cries he wants you, he wants you, in a reckless, unquenchable clamour.

“I know a place,” Eodwulf says, “where it’s a little quiet,” and Caduceus knows the words, and the words beneath. He is not so young, so naive, to miss the subtleties of Eodwulf’s speech.

‘A little quiet’ means to be alone. And to be alone is…

He half expects to be led off to some back alley out of Jester’s tales - for murder or something else, who can say - but the streets Eodwulf takes him by are wide and well-lit. Caduceus’s foreign clothes are noticeable even in the dead of night, and people stop to stare as they pass by, eyes drifting over Eodwulf like a shadow to land on him. His hair, his height, his dress - all abnormalities perused and catalogued, before people resume their nighttime strolls.

It’s not unusual, nor particularly bothersome, to be watched. But one older gentleman stares a little too long, and doesn’t stop staring even after Caduceus dips his head in friendly greeting, and something in the air changes. A hand reaches out and grips Caduceus’s arm, drawing him back into the centre of the street. Eodwulf appears suddenly - though he was always there, Caduceus remembers. It’s just that his presence wasn’t felt, until now.

It must take practice, for a man the size of Eodwulf to disappear. Through magic, Caduceus can manage the same, but it’s more of a reflex - the trigger is fear, and the duration beyond his control. But Eodwulf becomes a shadow, then a looming gargoyle of a man, then a shadow once more, and all of it is done with intention. He doesn’t doubt that the watcher would be dead before Caduceus could blink, if that’s what Eodwulf decided to do.

He grins at Caduceus as the man scurries away, and Caduceus returns the smile faintly, and wonders, who have I let myself follow into the dark?

He finds he knows the answer, and it doesn’t frighten him like it should.

The fluttering returns, moth wings between his ribs beating in time with Eodwulf’s heavy steps - loud and obvious, like they weren’t before. Like a war drum, their march is a warning for anyone else who might darken their path.

See, this is my street to walk. See, this person is under my protection. Hear me, and stay back.

They come at last to their destination: a little park with scattered trees, at the centre of which sits a stone building. Its sides are carved with olive branches and vines, and its doors are shut, and the coldness of death seeps from every crevice, and mingles with the dewy scent of grass and yesterday’s rain.

Eodwulf leads him to a bench, and they sit side by side, listening to the breeze in the leaves, not speaking, though Caduceus still has many things to say. He wants to ask where they are. He wants to know if Eodwulf talked to one of his friends about him, and if that’s the reason he brought him to a mausoleum, instead of some sweeter daytime sight.

He silently wonders if they both feel at home in a graveyard, and if there has ever been anyone else, who looked at one with the same reverence as him.

“It’s quiet here,” Eodwulf answers, as though he had asked, and Caduceus nods.

“It is,” he agrees. There’s nothing more that needs to be said on the matter, and somehow they both know it, without needing words. Eodwulf crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, tipping his head to stare at the stars above, and Caduceus tries to mimic him, but the bench isn’t meant for a person of his stature, and he ends up sitting straight again.

“So,” Eodwulf says, casual enough to tell Caduceus the conversation is about to become anything but. “So, you came.”

“I did,” Caduceus answers, and his voice is steady, but a smile doesn’t find his lips. Eodwulf turns his head, shifting, until the meat of his shoulders is facing Caduceus.

“I’m glad.” The twinkle in his eye is still there, and his lips hold the smile that Caduceus lost, as he shifts again, bringing their knees together. Caduceus swallows. “I thought you looked bored in there.”

“I don’t mind a tavern… but I also don’t drink,” Caduceus answers noncommittally. “So it does get a little dull at times.”

Eodwulf huffs a laugh, and sits back up. “You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” His smile becomes a grin, his arms uncrossing, and Caduceus follows their movement with his eyes, mouth dry as kindling. “Is there anything you do like?”

“Well,” he says, with nothing to come after it. The moth in his chest beats its protest against the silence.

There’s a line here - a line, that he’s meant to keep track of. That he’s not meant to-

“Well?”

And then again, there are fingers in his hair, and then again, there’s a mouth close to his, and warm breath, rich with ale and bread and earthy things, and then again, Eodwulf is confident, and his grin is sure, and maybe-

He doesn’t need to be the only one who knows where the lines are.

Caduceus meets him halfway, and then lets himself be pulled closer, and closer, as fingers tangle in his hair, and broad arms encircle his back. He opens his mouth, and Eodwulf follows, and the wine is sharp on his tongue, for being the first he’s tasted. But the flavour changes, the longer he drinks.

No longer startling in its newness, the feeling melts down to something softer.

A new taste: heavy, and warm, and sweet.

#critical role #cr spoilers #cadwulf #my writing #this is barely edited but i had so much fun

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baku-writes · 3 years

Note

Hawks x reader where ( if you know hawks backstory ) where there childhood friends and they grew up in the commission together then a villian broke out and tried to attack hawks but the reader saves him and gets injured instead fluff ending angst to fluff? :)

Sure thing, I'll give it a try!! It's my first time writing angst so please let me know what you guys think!💞

I'm going to try and make the reader as gender neutral as possible (which will be my first time writing that too) so lets see how this goes.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED 💞💞💞

I must protect you... promise.

Hawks x gn!reader

Angst to fluff

TW: injury, gore, thoughts around death (tell me if there is any more I need to add), HAWKS BACKSTORY SPOILERS

Summary: you and hawks grew up together with the training of the hero commission, however distanced once you two finally become the pro heroes you always dreamed of being. However, as Hawks faces a villain and his possible end, the two of you unite once again.

You always admired Keigo for his strength, talent, intelligence and overall ideologies. Both of you saw the flaws in hero society that were swept under the rug whilst everyone fixated on Allmight. But now Allmoght was gone, the seams in hero society had started to tear as villains found new ways to exploit the past of heroes.

Both of you had grew up in Kyushu, Fukuoka and then taken on by the hero commission for your quirks. Your quirk allowed you move through shadows and use shadows to constrict villains movements. It wasn't a very flashy quirk but it did the job of taking down villains perfectly. And due to this, the hero commission saw you as a perfect asset to raise into a new era of pro heroes, peo heroes with immense training since the ages as young as 5.

And that is how you met Keigo. Also took in the the corrupt hero commission, he would help you train and grow to form a strong bond with him. You two would always help the other out or comfort the other if the 'trainers' were too rough. You two promised to help each other not matter what... to save each other. No matter the cost.

And that is how you ended up here....

"HAWKS!"

Fuck, you weren't going to make it in time...

Fire was surrounding Hawks and you weren't going to make it in time....

Fire licked and singed his crimson feathers, turning them to nothing but ash and dust. This villain had been fighting for almost an hour now, shooting out whips of fire which he would thrash against Keigo's back.

You were so close to them. All it would take is two more rooftops to jump and then you could save Hawks, your friend. You can't fail him. You have to save him.

5 year old you crouched in the staff closet, careful not to topple any object as you didn't want to make a noise. You failed the test..... you needed to pass that quirk test so you wouldn't have to face the hero commission's punishment.

With each heavy footstep that passed the door your anxiety increased, your mind wandered to the other tests you failed.... and the beatings you got because of it. And then you'd mind wandered to Keigo, how he would also get punished for your failures because "you two were a team". If you failed yourself, you failed Keigo. You would never become a hero at this rate... never.

The door opened....

"HAWKS!!"

Finally, you jumped down. Using your quirk, you wrapped a shadow around Keigo's torso and threw him to the side. As a replacement you put your body in the villains line of attack. This time his attack was different though. Sharper. Hotter. Faster.

Subconsciously, you turned to face the villain only to be met with his twisted face of pleasure. His raised arm (holding a blue flamed whip) came down with one swift swoop.

SLASH

The whip tore through your lower stomach, burning the surrounding skin of the deep cut.

It took a second for the pain to set in, your sense of time slowing down and bodies reactions almost freezing as searing hot burns began to ripple across your body.

"H/N!!" Hawks scrambled to his feet and mustered the strength the move. Using the last of his feathers, he entrapped the villain and knocked him unconscious as the villain attempted to revel in your pain.

Quickly, he scrambled to your body. He recognised one of teh rescue pro heroes a couple buildings away from the scene, along with some medics who were waiting on standby.

Applying pressure to your would (or at least trying too) his blood soaked glove pressed into your abdomen.

"K-keigo." Your voice was above a mere whisper. Each breath felt weaker than the last, the once stinging pain slowly becoming numb as you felt your brain succumb to the possibly fatal injuries.

You were going to die. And he knew it too. Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed your hand with one of his blood soaked gloves.

"Fuck, Y/N. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. The medics are here right now an-"

"Keigo.... I'm sorry." Guilt welled up inside you. You wish you could fix hero society, stitch the seams back together and ignore the pain you two went through. You wish you could go back in time and save Keigo from that place, save him from the beatings you deserved.

"I don't think I'm going to make it. But please know this wasn't your fault."

His stare pierced your heart as his cool demeanor started to change into anger and mourning.

"Fix hero society."

Slowly, your mind slipped into unconsciousness. The blood loss was too much for your body to handle. Eyes flickering closed and your breathing becoming shallower.

"Y/N, fuck, please wake up. MEDIC! HURRY UP, PLEASE!"

The door opened....

Fear shook your body as you slowly lifted your head up. What if it's your 'trainer'? What is going to happen to you? Will they be angrier because you hid from them? Should you apologise? Should you keep quiet? What will their punishment be? Have they got Keigo?

Finally, you looked up at the figure looking over you. Instead of the trainer, there stood Keigo. His eyes curious as he gripped onto his Endeavour figurine with one small hand. His wings twitches gently as he analyzed your state fir a minute.

The silence seemed stretch for what felt like hours, until he held his other empty hand out to you. A bright smile adorned his usually neutral face. He was trying to comfort you even though he is going to get punished because of you...

"It'll be okay Y/N. We can protect each other, right? That's why we are a team."

Slowly, you woke up. Bright white lights flooded your vision causing you to squint. You tensed, preparing to feel agonising pain within your abdomen.... but no pain stabbed you.

Carefully, you sat up, noticing the medical equipment surrounding you and the needles in your arm providing you with fluids. You pulled up the hospital gown noticing there was no blood but just a bandage. It must of been healed by a medic.

You looked around the room.... only to notice a slightly bandaged Keigo sat sleeping in the corner. He must of been exhausted. His wings weren't completely healed either, still having clumps of feathers missing.

You smiled lazily, the only time he ever got to relax was in his sleep. Little did you know that as you looked down Keigo finally began to wake, almost as of his instinct told him to.

"Morning Y/N."

"Oh.... morning Keigo."

Silence flooded the room.

"Well, how are your wings? You looked pretty burnt up.." Trying to make conversation will never work with Keigo. You knew he was going to lecture you, you could see it in his golden eyes.

"What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? Getting yourself hurt as a replacement for me. Do you know how close you were to dying? Do you fucking know how worried I was?" His tone picking up with each question. His pent up anger, stress and worry began seeping through the seams.

"I'm sorry Keigo. I-"

"I promised to fucking protect you, Y/N! We are a team. You don't just sacrifice yourself for me! We work together through it! Why didn't you travel through a fucking shadow or something? HUH? I nearly had that guy and then you tried to get yourself KILLED. Did you even THINK about what would happen? What that would do to me?!"

"Keigo..."

Once again....silence.

"I also promised to protect you. You know you couldn't take that guy down, you didn't have any distractions. Yes I should of thought about it but that was the only option.... I also promised to protect you.... I'm sorry but that's what i did. I tried protect you. But I guess I failed again.... I'm so sorry Keigo. " Tears welled in your eyes and began to purr down your face.

"I thought that you are more valuable to hero society than me.... you're stronger and smarter... better quirk too. I thought that if I d-died you would get to live another day and s-save people."

Sobs wracked through your body and Keigo stilled. His frustrations quickly dwindled away...

Did you really think that way?

Fuck, you failed him again. You thought since your training days that you had getting stronger. Smarter. But no, you were wrong. Everything was wrong. You couldn't even protect your best friend, and the man you loved. And you were to weak to even confess anything to him.

"Y/N, please listen to me." He got up and walked towards your bed, sitting down at the edge. Lifting a bandaged hand Keigo stroked through your hair. " I'm thankful you saved me. And yes, you did protect me. Don't belittle yourself. But please don't think that running towards death will help. We NEED you in hero society, you have saved so many people. Remember when we were being trained? You saved me then, you gave me someone to talk to and someone to befriend."

Slowly you lifted your head and to look into his eyes as he sighed.

"Please don't go running towards death again.... I want to spend more time with you and I want to be a team with you. A real team this time."

He looked into your eyes.

"Y/N, I think I'm trying to say.... can I take you out some time?"

Ohmygod. You stared at him wide eyed. At first he thought you were going to reject him, his body language turning nervous. That was until an almost smug smirk mixed with genuine happiness adorned your face.

"I would love to" you giggled a little bit. "Once I'm out of the hospital ofcourse."

God even on your death bed you couldn't be serious.

A smile spread across Keigos usually neutral face.

______________________

AAAAAAA. I hope this is good enough!!! It was my first time writing angst so I didn't really know how I should do it, but I hope it turned out okay and I hope this is what you wanted! <33

Anyways, thankyou so much for requesting and the support. For the past day the messages I have been getting are so kind! At first my anxiety was exceptionally bad when I posted "Fountain", but the support has made me feel a lot more comfortable! 💞💞

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streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Less of you

Summary: He lost the love of his life 4 years ago in a car accident. If he had stopped her from going to that party with her friend, maybe she would still be with him till this day. He tried hooking up with other girls but none of them could fill his void. All until he met you. A girl who worked at a café to pay for your school and house bills. You were completely the opposite of his late girlfriend but you look exactly like her. Who are you and would he have the courage to get to know you?

Theme: doppelganger au, strangers to lovers

Genre: fluff

Warning: death, accident (please don't drink and drive people!)

WC: 3.9k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

a/n: I write when I’m bored so I may not be good. I hope you like it. I didn’t intend to copy anyone if this storyline has been written before! Also, the words in italics are a flashback! :)

“Hey babe, is it okay if I go to the party with Jiyeon?”

“I don’t know babe, I have a bad feeling about this.” Chan said.

“What? Why?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think you should stay home.”

“But babe, it’s Seori’s birthday party. I’m sure she would want me there.” She tried convincing him.

“Lucy-”

“I’ll just be there for a while, I promise I’ll text you when I’m heading home okay?” She smiled, cupping his cheek softly before disappearing down the hall to go to their shared bedroom.

Hours later, Chan was growing tensed and anxious. There was an unexplainable feeling of discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach which he doesn’t know why. He had already texted his close friends about this. All of them said the same thing. And that was to go fetch Lucy from the party. However, before he could leave the comforts of his shared apartment with his girlfriend, his cell phone began to ring obnoxiously on the kitchen island top.

It was from an unknown number but he decided to pick up the call anyway in hopes that he would hear Lucy’s voice. But what he heard next, wasn’t exactly something he thought he would hear.

“Hello? Is this Mr Bang Chan?” The female voice spoke up on the other line.

“Uhh, yes? Who is this?”

“This is Lee Haneul speaking. I’m calling from Seoul's National Police Station. Can I confirm with you if you are related to Miss Lucy Hale?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“I’m really sorry to inform you that your girlfriend was met in a fatal car crash. We are still investigating the accident to find out what’s the cause. But in the meantime, we will need you to come down to the hospital and identify if the victim is indeed Miss Lucy. Will that be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” Chan said, letting the woman give out the address of the hospital he needed to go before hanging up the call.

Right after he clicked the red button, he instantly collapsed to the ground unable to feel his legs. Chan could feel the tears streaming down his face as he hugged his frame tightly. He couldn’t believe he just received that call. He wanted it to be a prank so badly. He didn’t want all of that to be true.

Nevertheless, he went to the said hospital in search of the love of his life.

The nurse brought him to a female officer who was standing outside a closed hallway with a doctor, where Chan clarified himself to them. The three individuals soon entered the closed doors, letting the doctor lead them straight down to the basement where the mortuary was located.

Once inside, the doctor walked up to one of the silver units. After reading the name on the side of the unit, he opened the unit door only to pull out the metal stretcher that had a covered body in it. Chan had to close his eyes for a second, too afraid to look forward.

He carefully made his way to the doctor. The man proceeds to unzip the top part of the bag. The moment he pulled the bag apart, Chan immediately covered his mouth with one hand desperately as he gripped onto the metal stretcher. He broke down in a matter of seconds, enough proof to the officer that it was indeed who the victim was said to be. She carefully placed a hand on top of Chan’s shoulder while the doctor pressed his lips in a straight line.

“I’m so sorry Lucy… I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to stop you from going… I’m so sorry…” Chan whispered as he stared at the pale, blood covered female body that he used to call his girlfriend.

With that being said, the doctor proceeded to zip the bag while the officer and Chan left the mortuary. She let out a silent sigh, knowing exactly how he felt at the moment.

“Thank you for being strong and seeing her for the last time. I hope you’ll feel better soon. She’s in a better place now.” She gave him words of comfort. Even though his mind wasn’t really there with him at the moment, he appreciated the officer’s kind words.

He went home that night feeling nothing but utter loss and grief. It took him at least 4 hours to accept the fact that she’s gone and that there was no way of seeing her again.

He broke the news to his close friends, all of which shock and sympathy was mixed together.

They went to her funeral but Chan felt empty.

He thought his life was going to be dull and miserable now that he lost her. He wasn’t sure if he could continue to live but his friends made it a point to let him go on his days without feeling at a loss. They were truly the friends anyone could ask for.

4 years went by where Chan still tends to miss her presence. But instead of grieving about it, he finally accepts the fact that she was no longer on this earth. Despite meeting new people, new potential partners in his life, none of them could seem to fill the void that has been eating him alive for the past few years.

There were some who he had genuine interest in. But somehow, that relationship never worked out and he wasn’t one to dwell on things for too long. For he just simply moves on with his life and goes about his daily routine.

It was a bright Saturday morning, Chan had already promised Changbin and Jisung to have a morning workout session together.

“So… Hyung, are you contacting anyone?” Jisung asked as he turned to Chan who was currently lifting weights.

“No. I haven’t contacted anyone in months…” Chan sighed. Dropping the barbell onto the ground.

“Why not?” Changbin asked out of curiosity.

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like anyone’s of my interest.” Chan shrugged his shoulders. The two boys looked at each other only to exchange a knowing look which Chan couldn’t bother to even notice. After they were done with the workout session, the boys left the gym to make their way to a nearby café that they had been going to every time they ended their workout.

They had just entered the café, strong coffee bean aroma filling their nostrils as they walked up to the counter. Only for Chan to halt in his steps when he saw just who was standing behind the counter, taking orders. Both Changbin and Jisung also came to a stop when they saw who Chan was staring at.

“No way…” Chan whispered under his breath. Jisung desperately clinged onto Chan’s arms only to ask in a confused tone.

“Umm… Hyung, is that…?”

“No… It can’t be.” Chan said as they carefully made their way closer to the cashier. The three of them queued up behind the rest of the customers but their eyes couldn’t seem to leave her.

After the customer in front of them walked away, the person standing behind the counter finally locked eyes with all three of them before flashing them a warm smile.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” She said. Chan was too dumbfounded that he couldn’t even speak so Changbin did it first.

“Hi, can I get one Iced Americano.” She keyed in his order before turning back to the remaining two.

“Anything else?” She asked with a smile.

“Umm, can I get one Iced Tropical Passion Tea?” She nodded as she entered his order into the machine. Just then, the minute she looked up, Chan had the most prominent frown on his face and she wondered why.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” However, when she received no particular reply from him, she decided to joke around.

“You know, if your order is written on my face, I would so gladly take them down for you.” With that, Chan finally snapped out of his trance. He shook his head, letting his brown locks shift from side to side.

“Uhh… right. S-Sorry. I’ll just have a regular Iced Strawberry Lemonade Green Tea.” She smiled and proceeded to key in his order, only for Changbin to hold his card out. After he was done paying, she asked him for his name or initial. Telling him that she will call out to him once the drinks are made.

The guys went over to a table right next to the window but Chan’s eyes were glued on her. Watching as she made their drinks while she joked around with her co-worker.

“She might look like her but she’s definitely not like her.”

Changbin commented softly before Jisung hummed in agreement. But Chan still couldn’t seem to let this new information digest into his brain. This girl looked exactly like Lucy except maybe her style and her hair colour but her face was like a copy paste of Lucy.

Lucy was slightly girly and definitely more fashionable in terms of the things she wore. She always loved branded items. She wore mostly dresses or skirts everyday, with designer clothes. She normally wore heels and tends to look richer than she really was. However, Lucy can be very arrogant towards people she doesn’t like or doesn’t know. She would never openly smile to just anyone, nor would she talk to anyone aside from Chan and her close friends.

Unlike Lucy, this girl was nothing like Lucy and Chan could see the vast difference.

Lucy would never work at a café shop because to her, these kinds of jobs are for people who are not able to support themselves financially. This girl not only works as a barista at a café, her sense of fashion is definitely more laid back compared to Lucy.

She wore a plain white shirt with denim skinny jeans and a pair of Nikes with her café apron on. She had her hair in a low messy bun to keep her hair from falling into customer’s drinks while making them. Character wise, she was a lot more friendlier than Lucy. She had quite a bubbly side to her when she greeted new customers at the cashier.

Chan was just too absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear her calling out to Changbin. The latter went back to the collection point, not forgetting to get a glimpse of her name on her nametag.

“Thanks… (Y/N).” Changbin smiled, making her return the favour with a small nod.

Chan knew he shouldn’t do it but he wanted to. He wanted to get to know her a little better. Which is why he decided to come visit her again the following week. She was currently leaning against the counter top, facing the café entrance while her co-worker and close friend, Moonbin was fooling around with her since the café was sort of empty with only 6 tables max being occupied.

She had just punched his abdomen softly when he threw a balled tissue onto the top of her head.

Just then, the sound of doorbell chiming caught their attention. She turned towards the door, only to see Chan enter the café. She immediately smiled after remembering his face from last weekend.

Moonbin went to go hide behind the coffee machine, pretending to be busy.

“Hi, welcome to Daisies Café. What can I get for you today?” She greeted Chan with a smile, making him mimic her expression.

“Umm, hey. I think I’ll just have an Iced Berry Mint Tea.” She keyed in his order before asking him if there was anything else he wanted. When he said no, she nodded and proceeded to charge him for it. After she was done, she took the cup and asked him for his name or initial.

“Chan.” She let his name roll off her tongue quietly before smiling at him. She went over to Moonbin only to see the boy grinning like an idiot.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” She asked her same aged colleague.

“Nothing… He’s kinda your type, no?”

To that, she glanced over to Chan who was seated near the window. He had his laptop on the table with a headphone on his head. A smile graced onto her lips, ignoring Moonbin’s comment and instead, focusing on making Chan’s drink. She knew if she called his name, he wouldn’t be able to hear so she opted to bring his drink over to him instead.

She brought him his drink only for Chan to smile at her, his cute dimples coming to view.

“Oh! Sorry!”

He apologized before taking the glass from her, feeling her fingers brushing lightly over hers. She got visibly flustered as she pulled her hands back a little too quickly. Chan simply let out a soft chuckle when she excused herself to continue working when he gently gripped her wrist to stop her.

“Hey, umm, are you free later?” He asked.

“I… yeah. Why?”

“Do you… maybe wanna grab dinner with me?” She got quiet for a moment, making him feel bad.

“Uhh, you don’t have to agree! It’s okay.” He reassured her. But there was just something about him that made her smile, a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“I finish at 5.” She said with a small smile on her face.

“Oh… uhh, great. I’ll come pick you up then.”

“Okay.” She giggled before leaving his table.

7 months was definitely longer than what he had in mind about being friends with her. All the girls that he has dated or contacted ever since Lucy passed wouldn’t last for more than a month. During the last few months, Chan got to know about her background a little better.

Although he does know that (Y/N) can never be Lucy, he slowly started to like (Y/N) for who she is and not just because she looked like Lucy.

In fact, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he actually likes (Y/N)’s personality slightly better.

It was a sunny Saturday evening and she was having a day off. She was just mopping her living room when her phone began to ring. She placed her mop on the bucket only to go to the desk right beside the hallway where her phone was sitting.

It was Chan’s caller ID.

“Hello?” She said.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just cleaning my apartment.”

“Do you need an extra hand?” She could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line.

“If you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” She laughed.

“Sure. Then afterwards, I was wondering if you’d wanna meet my friends and hang out with them?” Chan asked softly, making her pause.

For the past few months, (Y/N) had gotten closer to Chan when he kept coming back to the café only to become a regular customer there. However, she has never met Chan’s friends properly simply because she was shy and slightly nervous around a huge crowd.

Chan seemed to read her concerns through the silence. Hence, the reason why he was telling her that she didn’t have to agree to it if she didn’t want to. But she didn’t want to keep rejecting his kind offer of meeting his close friends. She wouldn’t want him to feel bad for asking her so she decided to go with it. About an hour later, Chan came to her place as promised before, only to help her with her spring cleaning.

They joked around with each other a few times, earning soft laughs from them both.

They were just moving their legs back and forth on the ground, dancing along to the music she played in the background when she accidentally slipped. She lost her balance and almost fell backwards but he caught her in time.

Chan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back up against him. A soft gasp left her lips as he asked her if she was okay. But all she did was laugh out loud from her clumsiness.

He smiled down at her, letting her press her forehead against his shoulder.

After her laughter had died down, she pulled away from him when she felt his arms still securely wrapped around her body. She glanced up, tilting her head to meet his. What she wasn’t ready for was the close proximity of their faces. She could feel his warm breath hit her lips.

Chan’s eyes naturally fell down to her lips, letting it linger there for a second too long. Before anyone could do anything, Chan’s phone rang in his back pocket. He pulled away not forgetting to apologize to her.

“Hey. Yeah. I’m at (Y/N)’s house. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Bye Minie.”

Chan hung up the call only for (Y/N) to ask who it was. He said it was Seungmin asking if he was coming to Hyunjin’s apartment later to hangout. She gave him a small smile. About 2 hours later, they were both making their way to Hyunjin’s apartment in Chan’s jeep. She changed into a slightly more casual outfit which was just a fitted shirt, a large flannel, denim skinny jeans and a pair of her favourite sneakers.

When they arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment, Chan walked with her beside him the whole time. They were talking about school projects when he stopped in front of the wooden door.

He gave it a few knocks only to turn to her with a slight frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked again to make sure she was really okay. But when he received a nod and a smile, Chan’s shoulders relaxed for a bit before the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde boy whom she had never met before.

“Hey hyung!” Hyunjin’s eyes then met hers. She noticed the way his mouth hung open slightly as he took in her features.

“Woah.” He whispered under his breath before he quickly shook his head and welcomed them in. She saw the amount of shoes by the doorstep, making her feel slightly anxious and Chan seemed to notice this. Hyunjin had already re-joined his other friends in the living room when she felt Chan’s hand on her back.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? Oh… Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry… I just… I tend to get anxious when there’s too many guys around me. I’m not used to it.” She said in a hushed whisper.

“We can go home if you want?”

“No! No, please. I’d love to meet your friends, I just need… a little time to get used to this.”

With that, Chan smiled as he cupped her face with one hand only to whisper a soft ‘okay’ before leading her into the living room. That’s when she finally met his friends in person properly. All 7 pairs of eyes were now staring at her with bright expressions but she seemed to feel small under their gazes.

Chan giggled when he felt her gently grip his forearm with both hands, making him speak up to his friends.

“Guys. This is (Y/N). (Y/N), these are my friends.” Chan introduced, only for her to smile to them shyly, partially hiding behind Chan’s larger frame. Some of them couldn’t help but chuckle. They found her quite adorable to say the least.

It took her about an hour or two to warm up to them but eventually, she did. This only made Chan even more proud of her. They were all gathered in Hyunjin’s living room, currently watching a Marvel movie. She was seated on the couch in between Chan and Jeongin, with Changbin right beside her feet on the floor.

They were watching the movie, Jisung and Felix occasionally making comments during the show. Minho was starting to drift off to Lalaland at the side. Hyunjin, Jeongin and Changbin were playing a game on their phones and Seungmin was busy reading an online book.

(Y/N) and Chan were watching the movie in silence but he did notice her getting closer to his side every time she shifts or adjusts herself on the couch. Not that he was complaining.

Just then, Jeongin suddenly flinched harshly beside her.

This was enough to make her jump. However, this caused her to accidentally lean against Chan who had his arm around her waist.

She blushed at this sudden contact. Jeongin apologized to her for scaring her but she simply laughed it off and told him it was fine. But the minute she turned back to Chan, she could feel her breath hitch in her throat with how close his face was to her.

Unfortunately, he was close enough to hear it but he didn’t mock her for it. In fact, he actually giggled thinking it was cute.

“You okay, love?” His soft voice sultry to her ears.

She hummed in response, only to look forward to the tv screen. Chan chuckled beside her but she ignored it, knowing he probably saw the pink tint on her cheeks. A few hours later, they finally called it a night where Chan sent her back home.

Once they were outside her apartment door, she turned to him to speak up.

“Thanks Chan, for bringing me to meet your friends. They’re really genuine people.”

“No worries. I knew you’d love them.” He chuckled. Suddenly, the air became hot as she struggled to find the right words.

“Chan…”

“Yeah?”

The room fell silent for a moment as they both just stared at each other. Trying to decipher what the other would do next. But she was one step faster than him when the next thing she did was literally what he planned on doing. In one swift movement, she leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his soft full lips. Chan stood there completely bewildered, unable to take in the fact that that really just happened.

She wasn’t sure how long he would stay like that so she took this chance to hide from him. Wanting to avoid any awkward situations if he doesn’t feel the same way for her. Right when she was about to say goodbye to him and enter her apartment, Chan quickly caught her wrist. She turned around to him with a slightly baffled look. But Chan was cheeky. He used his other hand to pull her closer by her waist only to press his lips on hers again.

This time, letting his lips stay there slightly longer than before.

She melted into the kiss as soon as he kissed her, making him smile against her lips. She slid her hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his soft brown locks.

Chan guides her gently back until she is pressed against the door, hugging her waist securely in his arms. She pulled away for air, feeling him press his forehead against hers softly. A few seconds later, Chan whispered softly just loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m really happy to have met you.”

She could feel the butterflies erupting in her stomach at his words. She smiled as he continued.

“I thought my life was over after losing who I thought would be with me forever. But I was wrong. And I realised it when I first saw you at the café that day. Thank you for being there (Y/N). I honestly don't know how my life would have turned out if I didn’t meet you that day.”

With that being said, she smiled. Cupping his face with both hands gently only to speak up.

“I’m glad I could be the source of happiness for you, Chan.”

Chan kissed her again sweetly before pulling back to say the 3 words he had been wanting to say to her. Only for her to return the favour.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too Chan.”

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagines #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan #bang chan fluff #skz x reader #skz bang chan

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vminity21 · 3 years

Text

Recompense | myg

Pairing: student!yoongi x student!reader, college!au f2l

Word Count: 2,925

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning(s): language, mention of death of a relative; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Underneath the tough exterior is truly grief, yet Yoongi is unable to execute it well until he discovers that you relate to him more than he realized. Sometimes learning that you are not alone is the best form of healing.

Credits to: @suhdays for making such a beautiful cover!! And thank you @cyberkryptonitecupcake for making the request! I really hope you like it!

Rain clouds encompass campus as easily as entering the end of a thread into a needle. At least, that’s the analogy you groggily come up with and you are sticking with it. Compiling your textbooks into your backpack, you trace your steps in finding your dorm key and with a brief look in the mirror, you inhale and exhale slowly. You can do this today. You are smart. You have great hair. You will not annoy Yoongi for the millionth time in two days. It has taken a lot over the years to give yourself positive affirmations to start your day as your mother always taught you to do so, but when she had passed, you went a very long time without encouraging yourself at all.

But that’s the secret you keep. With no social media for anyone to discreetly look at of you, you bury the heartbreak as best as you can because overall you know that your mother is proud of you. She would want you to stay positive; she would want you to smile not only for you but for the sake of others. Stepping onto the sidewalk, you put in your airpods with an upbeat tune as you saunter to class. You were partnered for a project with Min Yoongi, and one thing you have learned is that he is not your biggest fan for reasons you are uncertain. Maybe it has to do with how much you antagonize him with your charms? Maybe it has to do with the irresistible way you cut letters out of construction paper. Who even knows? But…. He does have a cute bu-

The brief collide of a large shoulder astonishes you as you jolt to remove an airpod, “Hobi, are you insane?” You stifle a large smile as he scrunches his nose at you.

“Saw the perfect opportunity and I took it.”

“Well, good for you. How are you and Monnie holding up? This project is intense.”

“Firstly, I better confess before she calls me out. She’s done all the work. Secondly, is it the project? Or the partner?”

Flashing your best friend with a warning look, you keep the subject away from Yoongi. “Of course, your girlfriend has done all the work! What is the point of a boyfriend if he is completely useless!”

“Excuse me, Heathen. I’ve come up with some of the facts that we have to present so I have put in a smidge of my time.” He shakes his head, ruffling his strands from his laughing eyes.

“You better be glad she loves you. I’d washi tape your eyes closed. And then superglue wiggle eyes in your hair.”

“I’d also give him a mullet and replace his eyebrows with pipe cleaners. Hello guys,” Monnie joins from the library as all of you continue to class.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t fight back?” Hoseok muses while laying a steady hand upon his beloved tendrils in preparation to protect.

“I have my ways, peasant.”

Feigning to be nervous, Hoseok’s gaze flickers between you and Monnie. “I don’t know what kind of vile thoughts are festering within your skulls, but I do not want any part of it. But, to return your question because I have human decency unlike you stale croutons, how is the project going with Yoongry?”

“Hobi, how many times do I have to tell you that he’s not angry, he’s just… I don’t know difficult.”

“Seems angry to me, ow!” Hoseok rubs his side from where Monnie jabbed him with her elbow upon entering the classroom.

“Sh! He’s right over there,” Monnie whispers in warning. Yoongi is leaned in his chair with arms crossed, his intimidating gaze observes the room while his tousled, black hair reveals his forehead. As much as you hate to admit this, you are very attracted to him- especially when his eyes move to find you. Shit! Smiling in his direction as happily as you can muster, he briefly rolls his eyes in response before returning his gaze to the front where you happen to make a quick trip to the professor.

“Um, Professor Namjoon, how are you doing?”

“Ah! My straight A student, I am wonderful, how are you?”

“I am doing great, Professor, just wanted to let you know that I read over the articles you suggested for the project! Super helpful!” You gleam.

Yoongi eyes you as you continue your conversation with Professor Namjoon. One thing he has picked up on is how much you like to people please which is something he has never fully understood about the human population in general. Nobody should have to go out of their way just to make someone happy if they do not want to, but then again, it’s hard for him to express his emotions especially after his mother passed away before the semester even started.

“Good morning!” Your chirpy voice resonates with the intention of making Yoongi smile, but instead he murmurs his greetings in response.

“You studied over Furosemide last night, haven’t you? That’s one of the major heart medications used in the veterinary field.”

“I sure did. You studied up on pimobendan as well, correct?” The project is based on medications for congestive heart failure and the importance of why they are needed along with the explanation of what happens within the heart when it is functioning abnormally. ‘Lucky, I got stuck doing a project on the prostate,’ Hoseok’s whine echoes in the forefront of your brain.

After a few seconds, you can’t seem to refrain from taking Yoongi’s presence in. He really grew up to be so handsome. The thin curve of his chin, his button nose, his soft, umber eyes and the way he gels his hair in place, even the scent of him is alluring.

“Staring at me isn’t going to get the job done,” he mumbles, slipping the rolled poster behind him to unravel upon the desk.

“Looking at you?” You jump, frantically moving to gather the materials needed to decorate the project. “I’d rather look at a pin cushion.”

“It probably would appreciate it if you didn’t stare at it either.”

Squinting your eyes at him, your mouth open and shuts multiple times without a subtle comeback. “What is with you? You know I’m not going to cower until you smile, right?”

Shoulders tensing, Yoongi peers at you, “Can you take anything seriously for at least one second?”

“If taking this project would help boost my immune system, sure, why not.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you need a dose of sunshine. Hoseok has a contagious smile, why don’t I introduce?”

You are unaware of the grip you have on the chair beside you, trying everything you can to maintain your happy façade no matter how much you are tempted to let it crumble. How was your mom so good at handling people like this? There has to be something deeper tormenting him to resonate so much hatred to whatever it is he is clinging to.

“I would prefer to be introduced to a tree. Now if you’ll so kindly hand me the stencil sheet, I will begin formulating words to define the jobs of the atriums versus the ventricles before tracing the letters.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. In the meantime, I’m going to grab a coffee, I’ll be right back.” Shuffling to retrieve your wallet, you are sure Professor Namjoon wouldn’t notice the few minutes that you would be gone and for what it’s worth, you need a moment to relax. What happened to make him so cold? Unbeknownst to you, a picture of your mother swoops to the ground to land at the tip of Yoongi’s shoe. Eyebrows scrunching, he bends to pick up the picture to see a woman whose smile matches yours, but not only that, there is a familiarity about her as if he has seen her before.

“Miss Jeon?” Memories swarm his mind of his childhood where an exuberant joy was in the air mingled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. A little girl chased him around the backyard while giggles reverberated throughout the atmosphere. Miss Jeon would call out for you guys when the treats were ready and would always make sure Yoongi had everything he needed when he would come to visit. But that little girl who was his best friend as a child happened to be none other than you. How had he not recognized you? Another memory resurfaces, one of his own mother sharing laughter with yours. They had been friends, too.

From what is written on the back of the portrait, it is revealed that your mother is no longer on earth right beside you the same as his mother left this world so soon. Tears gather in his eyes as the shame overwhelms his chest in all entirety. Who was he to judge you based on your happiness? If you could lose someone who obviously meant the world to you and can still maintain your kindness, then why can’t he?

Bustling of the other students is loud enough to not focus in on the man whose world has seemed to halt. Swallowing roughly, he tries steadying the picture with his quivering hands as a tear drips off his cheek. His mother would be disappointed in how he coped with his anger and today was the day he would need to make a change. And he will. When you return, the Styrofoam cup warm in your palm, you set it onto the table, “Alright, now that I’ve retreated for a few minutes, I would hope your top tier attitude has-”

Quieting immediately, you take in a trail of tears resting on Yoongi’s face. Eyebrows furrowing, you are so surprised that words do not exist in this very moment. Why is he crying? Did you say something wrong?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers through the trembling of his chin, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yoongi, what’s?” Eyes trailing to his hands, you gasp at the realization that he is holding the picture of your mother that you carry with you everywhere you go. Before you can even verbalize anything, Yoongi hands you the picture without a word and exits the classroom while you stand there in silence.

Days pass and you haven’t seen nor have heard from Yoongi. Running your hands over your face, you’re leaned over your desk with nothing but the days events cycling heavily on your brain. Any form of homework has not been touched, and Professor Namjoon seemed to fully understand the circumstances of why you needed to leave class early. Collecting the materials as well as the posterboard, Hoseok and Monnie had helped you carry everything back to your dorm and offered to stay with you for the evening, but you declined. LenLen, your roommate happens to be with her boyfriend, Jimin which saves time for you to cry.

You miss your mother more than anything in this world, and she is the first person you would have called if she had been alive. How did you miss the picture falling out of your backpack when you grabbed your wallet? Deep down you always knew who Min Yoongi was, he was your ‘soulmate’ when the pair of you were children. Your mothers would always joke about a future of grandchildren with the absolute assurance that you and Yoongi were destined to be husband and wife. Unfortunately, you and your mother had to relocate for her job opportunity and you never saw Yoongi again until you recognized him the beginning of this semester.

It is funny how life works sometimes, as if an invisible string tied him to you in all aspects of life. Alas, he did not remember you, hence why you had been so lenient with his annoyance directed at you. You wanted to believe that he would wake up, and because he was so stand offish, you couldn’t find the bravery to confront him nor confess that he was your friend at one point in life. Instead, you bottled it up. When you called your brother to give an update a few days ago, he relayed the news regarding Yoongi’s mother which all made sense as to why Yoongi was so distant; your heart shattered for him as tears pooled. How could you possibly ever bring up a subject as devastating as that? But you wanted Yoongi to know that he is not alone. You are mourning as he is. If only he would realize who you are-

A soft knock on the door jolts you from your palms while sparks dance along your vision before clearing up. Confused due to not expecting anyone, you carefully step to the door, cracking it open to realize that Yoongi of all humans is standing with a bouquet of roses in his grip. “Yoongi?” You take in a sharp breath, “How did you find my dorm? I don’t remember-”

“I met Hoseok,” he says softly, “You were right, his smile is… definitely contagious but rather mischievous for lack of a better term. He told me where to go.”

Giggling, not only at his accurate description of Jung Hoseok, but also out of uncertainty because you have no idea how to truly react. Is it odd that you are very happy that Yoongi is here? Gaze flitting to the roses, you are in awe of how beautiful they are against the dark shade of his trench coat. “They’re beautiful.” You say, “How did you know I loved roses?”

A gentle smirk graces his lips, the closest to a smile you have ever seen, and you have never felt your heart pitter patter the way it just did. “I remember always seeing them in a vase when my mother and I would visit.” His fingers stir along the plastic cover around the stems, “Really, I am so sorry. You did not deserve to be treated that way. I was wrong to take my frustrations out on you. Not that this is an excuse but, my mother-”

Reaching your fingers to lightly press to the back of his hand, he stops as his eyes widen. “Why don’t you come in?” You whisper, and straight way he enters, following you to a sofa set off to the side. “My brother told me about your mother. Yoongi, I am so sorry about that. She was the sweetest woman. My mom always missed her after we moved.”

“And mine always missed your mother,” you take the roses and swiftly prepare a vase of water to settle them in, decorating the kitchen counter with the beauty of the red petals. “I think… I think I just blocked out that time in my life because I hated that you weren’t there with me anymore.”

Your heart skips a beat. Did Yoongi eventually remember everything after all? “I was heartbroken, too.” Turning to lean your back against the counter, you cross your arms to try to bring some comfort to the anxious feeling beneath your chest. The pain of the losses will never go away, but the man across the room will end up being the bloom of happiness that you will need, and you will be his solace- the one person who will remind him that he is not alone. He has you. “I don’t want to hear another apology, okay?”

His mouth falls open, “But-”

“Nay, you shan’t.”

“Really though, how will I ever repay you for my actions? I should have never forgotten about you.”

Arms still crossed, you gradually near him as he stands to his feet, your eyes connect with his, “All I want you to know is that you are not alone. Sure, you may not have known who I was majority of the semester, but at least you know now.” When his gaze, filled with guilt, strays, you move your head to regain his focus. “Yoongi, really, you remember me now. So, lets try to live life the way our mothers would want us to.” Your voice breaks, knowing how proud they must be of the pair of you reconciling and reuniting after years of being apart. “Besides, we have a lot to learn, and a project to finish, so whaddya say?”

For the first time in years, you get to see it, the gummy smile glowing from his face as he shakes his head at you. “Must I be reminded of that wretched thing? I’d prefer to shave my eyebrows.”

“You have a sense of humor?” You tease lightheartedly as you nudge his shoulder with your knuckles. “I knew you had it in you!” Chuckling, he reaches for your frame to pull into a tight embrace, you immediately relax into his mold while you breathe in the crisp scent of his cologne. “Goodness, you smell like a dream. If our moms were correct about our future, I am not going to be disappointed!” For once, the pair of you feel complete even if sorrow will awake from time to time- as Yoongi squeezes you tighter, you bury into the crook of his neck, pressing a small kiss to his warm skin. “We better make an A+.”

Pulling away slightly, to rest his forehead upon yours, he is still smiling, “Following up with some extra credit.”

“Agreed,” you beam, letting his warmth encompass you to its full extent, when you almost lose balance due to him shifting his feet, he catches you.

“I’m so-”

“Gah!” Your fingers brush his lips, “What did I tell you?”

“No more apologies.”

#btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #heartsforbts #kafenetwork #yoongi #min yoongi #bts #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #2k +#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Remember when Grian and Zed swapped bases and Grian messed with the void button? He did get out, but what if he didn't have the situation under control?

I wish Grian and Zedaph would collab more asdfghjkl also I love “what if” scenarios based on actual HC events so this was great fun to write! :D

...

“This is Grian’s cave of contraptions!” announces Zedaph, gesturing to the dim interior of his cave. “It’s jam-packed full of all the craziest, wackiest contraptions your brain could ever imagine, so uh… be careful is my advice.”

“Okay, okay.” As he stares all around his new home, Grian’s mind is already racing with ideas and plans. Every corner of this undetailed cave is calling to him to work his magic and turn it from just a cave of contraptions to a beautifully decorated cave of contraptions. “And I’m free to do whatever I want?”

Zedaph nods. “You can push any button, pull any lever, press anything, do whatever you like.”

Grian’s eyes widen as he registers just how many pushable and flickable items are dotted around the cave. His fingers are already itching to interact with them all. “There’s so many buttons… and levers…!”

Zedaph giggles, sensing the impulsiveness rising in his friend. But his laughter quickly dies down as he realises exactly where Grian is standing. “Oh, that thing right in front of you? Be very careful about that, it’s a void hole.”

“What, down here?” Grian flicks open the trapdoor and hops into it immediately, but something stops him just two blocks down.

“Yeah, it takes you to the void.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“It will if you press that red button,” says Zedaph, indicating the button in question. “Please don’t do that though. You’re not meant to be able to fall into the void in the overworld so I’m not sure what’s gonna happen if you-.”

But Grian isn’t listening. Already overexcited and running on pure impulsiveness, he presses the button and drops.

“Grian!” Zedaph shouts after him.

Grian stares down as he fully realises that there is indeed a hole to the void directly below him. Chuckling to himself, he tries to fly up.

His wings are too large for the tight tunnel.

Trying not to panic, he activates his elytra and a few rockets.

He keeps falling.

A scream escapes him as he plummets, grabbing wildly at the walls of the thin stone hole. Zedaph’s words have finally sunk in, and he has no idea what’s going to happen to him if he falls into the void here.

Finally, he manages to catch hold of the edge of a mined-out block right at the very bottom of the tunnel, his entire body hanging over the void.

“ZEDAPH!” he screams. “HELP ME!”

Far above him, a panicked Zedaph jumps from foot to foot, staring down into the hole as he tries to think of something he can do to help. “Um…! Okay, okay…” He raises his voice to a yell. “Hang on, Grian! I’ll get help!”

He rushes towards the door and bursts out onto the sand. To his surprise, he immediately bumps into Tango, who steadies him with a grin. “Oh hey, Zed. I was just coming over to-.”

“I need you to go get X!” Zedaph gasps out. “Quickly, it’s an emergency!”

“Wh-What?” Tango blinks, registering Zedaph’s red face and panicked state. “What’s happened? Is everything okay?”

“I can’t explain now, just go! Quickly!”

Tango frantically takes off with his elytra, soaring into the sky at top speed.

Zedaph turns around and rushes back into the cave. A couple of blocks away from the void hole, he starts digging down with his pickaxe, ignoring the fact that he’s not technically supposed to dig straight down. He keeps going, desperate to reach his friend.

Finally, he reaches bedrock. He digs forward until the hole is exposed, with Grian still clinging on.

“Zedaph!” Grian gasps. “I can’t pull myself up!”

Zedaph rushes forward and takes hold of Grian as best he can, strengthening his friend’s rapidly weakening grip.

“I can’t hold on much longer.” Grian’s voice cracks. “I’m sorry!”

Zedaph quickly shakes his head. “You’ll be okay, Grian. Help is on the way.”

As if on cue, he hears a voice yelling very faintly from far above him. “Zed! Where are you?!”

“DOWN HERE!” he yells. “QUICKLY!”

“We’re coming down, Zed!” Tango’s voice yells back. “Hang on!”

Feeling a burst of courage at knowing help is coming, Zedaph manages to lift Grian up enough that Grian is no longer holding onto the bedrock. Grian gasps in fear and grips Zedaph’s arms so tightly that it starts to hurt.

But as he’s trying to pull Grian up, Zedaph’s strength rapidly drains away and they both slip straight through the hole.

They both scream, clutching each other tightly for a meagre amount of reassurance as they fall towards certain death. As they get lower, they start taking damage, wrenching the two away from each other.

Then all of a sudden, they stop falling. They hang suspended in mid-air, as if an invisible force has reached out and caught them.

When Grian finally dares to open his eyes, he finds himself lying on the ground in the cave, several blocks away from the opening to the void hole.

He can see two people nearby: Tango and Xisuma. The former is bending over Zedaph a few blocks away but Xisuma is standing over him, arms folded. “What did you do?”

““Are you okay, Grian?”” Grian mutters bitterly, imitating Xisuma’s voice. “Yeah I’m fine, X, don’t worry.”

“Grian, I had to do something just now that I haven’t done in many decades, so I’d appreciate less attitude right now,” snaps Xisuma.

Grian hangs his head. “I fell into Zed’s hole to the void. It was fully my fault; I was being stupid. Zed tried to save me. Is he… okay?”

“I’ll let you know when he wakes up,” Xisuma responds coldly. “He’s sensitive to the void, you know. He wasn’t just risking death to save you, he was risking his whole existence.”

“Th-Then why did he build a hole to the void in the first place?!”

“He wasn’t planning for some idiot to jump into it!” Tango snaps suddenly. “He put two safety measures in place and I’m pretty sure they didn’t just happen to fail RIGHT when you arrived!”

Grian winces, knowing that his friends are right. “I’m sorry. I thought I had the situation under control.”

As Tango opens his mouth to angrily say something back, his best friend weakly catches his wrist. “‘m okay,” he rasps. “I’m okay, Tango.”

As Tango helps Zedaph sit up, Grian has to stifle a gasp as he notices that Zedaph’s face is extremely pale and almost invisible silver lines are snaking up his neck, stopping just under his chin.

“Thanks for saving us, Xisuma, Tango.” Zedaph gives a weak smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“How DID you save us?” Grian ventures.

Xisuma shoots him a stern look. “A command I really don’t like using. Pray I don’t have to use it again.”

With that, he turns and storms off towards the exit, slowing briefly to pat Zedaph on the shoulder as he passes.

“You mind leaving me and Grian alone a second?” Zedaph asks his best friend.

Tango slowly nods, still scowling at Grian. “Sure thing. But come find me later, okay?”

“Of course.”

Zedaph waits until both Xisuma and Tango have left before turning to Grian. But before he can speak, Grian blurts out, “I’m so sorry! You warned me and I didn’t listen and now you’re hurt and we both could have died and-.”

“Okay, okay, stop.” Zedaph can’t help laughing as he quickly interrupts his friend. “Stop. Dude, it’s okay. You made a stupid decision but honesty, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing in your position. I don’t usually listen to warnings and stuff either.”

Grian sits back on his heels. “It’s still my fault. What’s with the… um…?” He gestures to his neck.

“Oh, this happens when I get too close to the void,” says Zedaph, tracing the line on his own neck. “Don’t worry, it’s not painful and it fades after a few hours. Dunno why it happens really, but I got it for days at a time when I was actually working on that thing. Gotta say, it was a pain to explain to Impulse when he was here breaking the bedrock. I- Wait, are you crying?”

“No.” Grian clears his throat and turns away. “I just don’t know why you’re being so nice when I almost got both of us killed, maybe permanently.”

“Well, I mean…” Zedaph gives a carefree shrug. “We didn’t die, so no need to dwell on the past. Lesson learned, huh?”

“Normally I’d say no but in this case, I think it’d only be possible for me to learn this lesson harder if you or I actually died.”

“Exactly!” Zedaph rises to his feet, ignoring the sting of pain coming from his lower back. “C’mon, let me show you the rest of the cave. I’ve got some epic stuff in here that will only kill you in normal, minorly painful ways.”

Grian lets out a quiet laugh. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Zedaph helps him up and the two start further into the cave but Zedaph stops. “Wait a sec, I just need to do something quickly. Go explore a bit, I’ll be right back.”

As Grian walks away, Zedaph heads back towards the hole. He mines out the iron trapdoor and replaces the first three blocks inside the hole with stone, including the block that used to hold the trapdoor, then he removes both the lever and the button, nullifying the redstone. He can replace them later, once they’ve swapped bases back.

After all, there’s always another void hole, but there’s only one Grian.

#hermitcraft #grian #zedaph #tangotek #xisuma #Vaunna writes

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