#at this point my tears aren’t of sadness it’s pain but also numbness

[x-amount-verbs]

A Helping Hand - Part 11

[start here] || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12

[silco x f!reader] [2.8k words] [no y/n] [during timeskip] [touch-starved reader] [henchwoman!reader] [rated M] [dom Silco] [unhealthy relationship to pain]

I should also thank @chickenparm and @sweatandwoe for letting me bounce ideas off of them constantly or straight up giving me ideas in conversation to morph into my own so: thank you! 😅 -verbs

Sevika is the one who ends up finding you. At least by the time she does you’ve gotten your shit together— haven’t even shed a single tear, so that’s good. Progress, in a way, compared to your last attack.

Your whole arm is reddened from the cold, though, after maybe ten minutes of running water sliding down your arm, chilling the whole thing and cooling your blood.

Her face is unusually unreadable. Generally, she’s pretty expressive with her surface-level annoyance or smugness or even boredom. The fact that she seems to be none of those things might be a bad sign.

“Wasting water,” she mutters, turning off the tap and grabbing a towel.

When you don’t take it from her, she lets out a long breath as she towels your arm dry. You are painfully aware of a complete lack of contact, the towel always staying a trusty barrier between skin.

You really fucking need a hug.

But at least your breath is even and calm, and you’re functioning. And you can continue functioning without any contact whatsoever. You certainly aren’t about to ask her.

“You ran out?” she asks.

Your eyes feel too dry, a sort of stinging, like they’ve been open too long. Probably have, as you stared at the water and counted your breaths. You make the tiniest shrug with one arm. Not exactly. Kind of. Basically.

“You ran out. On Silco.” The emphasis, along with her purposeful eye contact, chips at your numb exterior.

…Oh.

Oh shit.

“He was talking with Jinx, I didn’t— I felt— out of place,” you manage, hoarsely. Your throat still has that stab of pain that usually precedes tears.

Sevika’s brows furrow, but it doesn’t look like anger. It’s hard to read her expression. Not as sharp as her standard look of irritation, but not soft, either, and not the reluctant amusement of earlier in the afternoon. You’re not sure what it is.

“How long’s it been since you ate?”

“Uh…” You try to calculate. “I dunno. Fifteen? Sixteen hours?”

“Okay so that’s one. What about a shower?”

You’d purposefully avoided it last night, to avoid succumbing to some very bad ideas, thinking you might get one this morning once your blood had cooled— but then the painkillers had happened. Avoiding Sevika’s eyes guiltily, you mumble, “Night before last.”

“Two, then. What about sleep. How much sleep have you gotten?”

You can’t even calculate. “I dunno, left by 2:30, went to sleep by 3:30-4 probably. Woke up in pain, took drugs, passed out. No clue on the timeframe.”

“So maybe you also need a nap.”

You shake your head, confused. “Sorry, what is this about?”

“Feeling human.”

It’s a sad sad thing that the only concept crawling through your mind is your lack of human connection. Human touch.

“Fuck, you’re pathetic,” Sevika observes, pulling a face. You’re not about to argue that, even if it’s insulting. “Yeah, you need like… a day off.”

“I don’t get days off. I have to test.” 5:00 every evening.

The older woman shakes her head. “Your job is literally paper pushing,” she points out flatly. “You don’t have to be here. Silco wants you out of trouble, being productive, but that doesn’t mean you have to be here.”

What? “What does that mean?”

“It means my first month and half without an arm I barely left my bed.”

It’s unexpected honesty, delivered plainly, without preamble or guilt. You aren’t sure how to respond. It sounds about even with where you were in the weeks after the amputation: only leaving for the required meetings with the Doctor, barely eating, mostly sleeping, not bathing nearly enough because you didn’t like rubbing yourself down with a wet cloth and one hand.

“You shouldn’t be locked in your place all day. It’s fucking depressing.”

Why is she telling you this? It feels so personal, even if she isn’t acting like it. She doesn’t have the same stilted gruffness or begrudging attitude she had during your first panic attack. Maybe it simply doesn’t hold the same personal weight.

“That’s a move he got right, at least.”

He— Silco. Right. He’s the one who had you assigned to work at the Drop right away. Was it a choice based on Sevika’s experience? Or his own?

Both.

You can only speculate.

“Look.” Sevika clasps her hand on your shoulder, and the contact steals your breath.

That yearning is back, the craving to throw yourself at someone and cling. Your muscles freeze, keeping you still, avoiding that mortifying prospect.

“Head home. Take a night. Wash yourself off, do your laundry, clean your apartment. Get your life together a bit. Just tell Silco— you realized you forgot to feed your cat or something.”

“I don’t have a cat.”

“Yeah: you didn’t feed it and it died; it’s just a reason to leave, kid.”

“I’m—”

“Same difference.” She doesn’t even let you argue the age point again. A heavy sigh wooshes out of her. “Look, not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re a mess. It’s pretty damn obvious. So go home and get your shit together. Take your meds on a schedule, reorganize, start caring again.”

Your expression is dull. You just aren’t sure you can right now.

Sevika grumbles. “Fuck— okay, then just do three tonight. Eat, shower, sleep. And meds. You can come grovel tomorrow morning.”

Three things. That’s doable.

—

You only got two of the three done. Two and a half, kinda. Showered, and slept. Also, sent your laundry out. And took your meds before sleep.

It was a start, at least.

In the morning your stomach feels hollow, head aching, and the morning painkillers don’t help as much as they should. It’s on the way to work that you realize how every meal you’ve had in the last few days has been at The Last Drop. Frequently, directly ordered by your boss.

The same one who told you to take your medication before work.

The same one who has given you a schedule to keep that forces you to leave your house for a minimum of six hours a day, and be in a building that’s almost always bustling with activity, rarely solitary.

The one who’s personally overseeing your recovery, pushing you through your discomfort and forcing you to use the tool you’re so scared of— the tool that is meant to make your life easier— the tool that he gave you.

Your cheeks burn, gut a roiling mess of feelings you can’t untangle, but a primary one is definitely shame. The simplest thing to blame it on is your own bad behavior. Rushing out of his office, for what? Because he was having a conversation with his surrogate daughter? Because you had to witness the horror of two people hugging? What’s wrong with you?

You woke up early, as Sevika suggested. Actually, you woke up before your alarm, which was a relief, and gave you time to at least attempt to pull yourself together for the day. Wearing one of your new bras with a front clasp that you could watch as you did it up - thank the goddess, no more thin undershirts - and real clothes with actual buttons you had to fasten yourself, is a step up from the simple clothes of the last few days.

Showing a little effort, as a form of apology.

You get in earlier than usual, steel yourself, and head straight for Silco’s office for the suggested groveling.

Not only does your knock garner no response; the door is locked and no security is in the hall. He’s not in, apparently. And here you thought he basically lived here.

After a time pacing in the hall, worrying your thumb in your fist, chewing at your lip, you feel your stomach rumble. Grimacing, you try to ignore it. You’ve had plenty of hunger pains in your life, especially while your parents were sick and money was sparse; this is nothing new. You can handle it. You just need to stick around until—

The click of a door opening down the hall makes your head snap up.

His steps hardly falter when he spots you, even while a subtle scowl weighs on his features as he approaches. His gaze darts past you, to the stairs, to the bar below, as if expecting a guard that isn’t there.

“I wanted to apologize,” you blurt, hand grabbing your prosthetic’s wrist in a vise grip, trying to stay composed. “I shouldn’t have-”

The hellfire eye flashes at you, and that will has you in a metaphorical chokehold, voice snuffed out. He doesn’t seem to mind not hearing your whole apology right away; instead, his focus is on unlocking his office door.

Fucking hells, you feel pathetic. Practically crumpling in on yourself, utterly cowed by just a harsh look. You worry your lip between your teeth until you taste blood, eyes fixed on the ground. A hollow trembling hums under your skin.

Once the door is open, Silco steps back and gestures you through.

Fuck fuck fuck he’s gonna do it. He’s gonna rip it off. You weren’t grateful enough, you’re too erratic, he’ll take the hand back and leave you coming to terms all over again. Your teeth bruise flesh with how hard you’re biting, trying to keep your breath even.

You’re just overreacting. This will be fine.

This will not be fine.

There’s no chair in front of Silco’s desk at the moment. At the back of your mind you wonder if the seat you take every evening is set there by him, or by some underling. Since it isn’t there, you hesitate awkwardly where it normally would be. Everything seems a little unsteady, so you bite harder and hold tighter.

Silco’s steps behind you are slow. Even. Purposeful. Letting you hear each and every one.

“You were apologizing,” he reminds you, voice a low rumble. “Begging my forgiveness, if I’m not mistaken.” There’s a touch of chilly sarcasm to it as he slides to sit on the edge of his desk, nimble fingers drumming against the corner, somehow still lording over you even if you’re not in your usual seated position.

“I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out of you, gaze boring into the ground, but catching motion at the edge of your vision. “I didn’t mean to-”

Everything stops as his thumb brushes your lip.

Legs wobble and you lock your knees to keep still as your eyes zip straight up to his, a magnetic pull you can’t ignore. You can barely breathe. A feather-light touch of contact connects a single digit to your chin, keeping your face steady, but he’s watching his own finger as he thumbs at your lip. The calloused pad of his thumb is eerily soft, tugging your lip down to observe the subtle self-inflicted wound.

He says your name— as if you were somehow supposed to keep talking through this. It takes a great deal of self-control to not whimper. Your face is rapidly turning red. “Why the sudden exit?” he prompts, brushing your lip again.

You can’t think with his hand on you. So you say the first thing that comes to mind, voice ragged. “Had to feed my cat.”

You only realize your gaze has drifted to his mouth when you see his lip twitch in a badly-hidden smirk. “You don’t have a cat,” he murmurs, smugly.

Very hard not to whimper. “I don’t have a cat,” you agree, barely breathing the confession, hyper aware of the way his thumb is smoothing across your lip. Your expression is pleading, but you’re not sure if you’re praying he’ll stop or continue. Whatever it is you want, you want it desperately.

His words are smooth and smoky, in that voice that slithers around your throat. “The truth, if you please.” He hasn’t let go of you. He hasn’t touched you more, either, just the barest hint of contact at your chin and your lip, and it’s driving you absolutely mad.

Closing your eyes to think helps the slightest bit. Maybe. (If you’re kind of lying to yourself.) You feel shame saying it, but it has to be said. “I felt— It felt private. I didn’t want to int-”

His hand cups your cheek, deft fingertips sliding almost into your hair.

Your legs give out.

Mortified, you’re left on your knees in front of his desk, head spinning and face burning. Wide-eyed, you stare at the floor for a hot second, feeling like an absolute idiot. No fucking fair, when your body betrays you like that. You’re breathing heavily, pulse racing from the sudden fall.

There’s a beat of anxiety-drenched silence.

When you finally look up - some part of you maybe, possibly, dreading Silco’s response - you find him staring down that long nose at you, and the look in his eye makes every inch of you shiver. The pale eye is darker than usual, lid low, and you can’t tell if he’s angry or—

The idea flits through your head, too loud, ringing in your ears: he almost looks hungry.

Inevitably your nerve runs out and you drop your gaze to his collar, only to realize his breath is almost as labored as yours, despite how still his body perches. His throat bobs and your gaze flicks up at the minuscule motion as his jaw flexes.

Your own lips part slightly, a tiny breath pressed out of your chest, and you look down again, shaking your head like you can clear the fog that seems to have invaded. A cramp in your side belies the meals you’ve skipped, and you wince. When you look up again, his chin has lifted, gaze cooled, lips thinned. Whatever you thought you saw is gone.

“Something the matter?” The purr has evaporated from his voice, but his tone is still low, still spoken for an audience of one.

You shake your head, looking away, rolling your shoulders and trying to relieve the massive weight of tension stored there. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.”

“Apologies generally are given when one has done something wrong,” he points out, dryly. After a pause, he adds; “Have you done something wrong?”

That’s a confusing question. Because— no? But also yes. You’re not quite sure what constitutes wrong in this situation. You’re not quite sure what he’s asking about.

—And you’re suddenly very aware that you’re still kneeling before him.

When you look up, his brow is raised expectantly.

“I—” I don’t think so. Your gaping mouth snaps shut. “No.” That feels like an answer. Not sure how accurate it is, though.

Especially based on the way Silco’s head tilts slightly, silently admonishing you.

“Maybe?” you amend, uncertain.

His hand reaches out and you suck in a breath as he makes firmer contact, pressing his thumb to your broken lip pointedly, no longer gentle. “You remember what I told you?”

Something about you being his investment. Something about keeping things in good condition. Something about— “Consequences,” you breathe quietly, lips moving against his thumb. You are painfully aware of your body’s response to him. The way your skin feels taut and tingly, and achingly remembers your pale imitation of his touch.

There’s a moment. Looking up at him, letting him touch you, feeling a growing heat pooling in your belly.

Then, like he’s just been woken up, he breaks eye contact and releases his grip, taking in one long breath as he stands, heading back around to his side of the desk.

Your stomach growls. “Sh-” The air hisses out of you in one quiet moment, like you can tell your body to shut up, pressing a palm to your abdomen as your ears burn. You rush to stand now that he’s given you space to do so, and the sudden change in altitude makes you unsteady, grabbing the edge of his desk for support.

You expect him to admonish you. List your consequences, your fines. Instead, his eye narrows at your pale-knuckled grip on the wood.

“Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes.”

There’s a brief spark in his gaze before it’s extinguished, facade still cool and even-keeled. “Enough?”

That’s an awkward question. You wonder if Sevika informed him of her advice to you. “Yes.” Early to bed and early to rise.

“And eat?”

You hesitate, threatening your stomach to stay quiet, dammit. You can’t answer without lying.

There’s a beleaguered sigh, more melodramatic than entirely necessary. “I do hope you aren’t going to tell me your last meal was our dinner together.”

‘Our dinner together.’ For some reason, your gut does a backflip. “No.” It’s a stubborn answer, defensive.

Silco looks up at you, clearly waiting for you to give a satisfactory response.

The back of your neck itches, and your gaze skirts sideways, adding, in a mumble, “Like seven hours later.”

The short breath is back. The laugh that isn’t a laugh. “A fitting punishment, then,” he muses ruefully.

Okay, you’re a little confused. “To not eat?”

His amusement is clear. “You’ll be eating.” Sounds like a threat. “I think I have just the thing, in fact.”

—

[next part]

[So expect thirsty Thursday to include a reverse POV for a moment in this chapter :3 Right now it’s a short moment, but I may extend the scene, we’ll see lmao. Either way, if you want to be tagged for that post (and any other official A Helping Hand posts) you can join the tag list by commenting on this linked post. 8/9 and 11/12 are some of my fave moments I’ve written so far, so hopefully next chapter is good for you guys, too 😏

As always, please boost by reblogging if you like it! I also devour tags and comments, so 👀 please 🙏 I beg 🥺 gimme reactions. 🤲 You can also drop comments over on ao3. Every single ao3 comment gets a reply, but I’ll admit I love emoji-to-emoji comments a lot, so don’t feel like you need to be super eloquent. Most comments I make when reading fics are just scrolling down to add, like, one-sentence or emoji reactions as I’m reading 😅 I love it all! ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @of-the-argonath @arrlaauud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @emprixnix @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki

#silco x reader #silco/reader #silco #silco arcane #silco x f!reader #a helping hand #wip:a helping hand #x-amount-writes #silcoxreader #arcane x reader

[lovemesomesurveys]

[joybucket @ bzoink] What does the shirt you are wearing look like?   I’m wearing a coral Adidas t-shirt dress.  What was the last thing that stressed you out or upset you?   My life and health related issues have been really stressing me out lately. A lot more than usual, which is a lot. 

How do you stay positive with all that life throws at you?   I don’t. I don’t do well at all when I’m going through shit. I take medications to try and help with that, but even still it’s not an end all, be all. It’s still a struggle. My doctor just prescribed me something else in addition to the anti-depressant and anti-anxiety med I’ve already been taking. I mean, the truth of the matter is these meds aren’t going to make my issues go away. I may just become numb to it or not feel like crying everyday, but the problems are still there. Maybe they’ll even bring my mood up a little, but not much. None of the meds I’ve had this far have vastly made a difference. With my current meds, not including the new one cause I haven’t taken it yet, I will say that for awhile I wasn’t feeling as agitated, irritated, or constantly on the verge of tears. That was a big deal for me cause for so long that’s how I felt all the time. I was just miserable. I felt a little less crappy. I also just felt numb I guess cause even stuff that I was stressing about my mind wouldn’t let me focus on it enough. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I’m just saying I still wasn’t happy and I’m still not. For awhile now the irritation, frustration, and low sadness has come back strong. I’m back to feeling on the verge of tears all the time. It sucks. I’m praying that this new medicine in addition to what I’m already taking will do something more. I don’t want to feel so miserable and sad all the time. I want to experience some joy again. I used to have a good sense of humor and laugh a lot, but I haven’t really laughed like that like I used to in such a long time. I don’t know what I’m blabbering on about at this point and I went on a big tangent, but this is what is on my brain right now so here ya go. What quality do you admire most in other people?   I admire people who do manage to handle stressful situations well and don’t let shit keep them down. I admire people who are motivated, driven, and ambitious. I admire hardworking people. I admire people who are so kind and thoughtful.  What is the highest level of physical pain you have ever been in? rate 1-10   >> I have never been able to rate pain on a scale. I legitimately do not understand how to do that. <<< Yeah, I hate that shit. I’ve been asked that countless time as someone who’s had to go to numerous doctor appointments and had her share of hospital stays and procedures. You get asked that constantly and I’m like, I don’t knowwwww. I hurt. That’s what I know.  ...same question, but with emotional pain?   -- What is your most prized possession?   Hmm. Which youtuber do you feel like you could be friends with easily?   I think maybe with Steph Pappas.  Do you like your natural hair color?   No. I wish I had a lighter color or the shade of red I was dyeing my hair for several years.  Do you think you will dye your hair when you start going gray?   I’ve been dyeing my hair since middle school, so I’ll definitely be dyeing when it goes gray. Though, sadly, I’ve had grays since the second I turned 30. I haven’t dyed my hair since February 2020 and it showsssss. Too many grays, it drives me nuts.  Are you pale right now, or do you have a tan?   I’m definitely not as pale as I used to be. I actually was more gray at one point. I have a little color to me now. Although, the reason I was so pale before turned out to be for several very serious reasons, so thankfully we got that sorted out.  Do you think you look best with a tan?   I do prefer to have some color.  What is your favorite app on your phone?   TikTok and the Kindle app.  How old were you when you got your first smartphone?   I think I was 15.  Do you ever meditate on Scripture?   Yes. Are you living a life you want to escape from? or do you love your life?   I do wish I could escape the stuff I’m going through right now.  When was the last time you felt that life was good?   Uhhhhhhh. Do you have one big mistake that you've made that you want to fix?   Oh, most definitely. Hands down. I truly wish I could have that opportunity.  Do you wish people would forgive you for your past so you could move on?  I’m not seeking anyone’s forgiveness.  Do you wear green on St. Patrick's day?   I don’t make a big thing about it anymore, but it was fun when I was a kid. Are you Irish at all?   I do have some Irish.  Do you pray to God every day?   No, but that’s something I want to do. What are three things you are currently looking forward to doing soon?   I don’t have anything coming up to look forward to.  Do you ever dance in the rain?   No.  Have you ever sat on a rooftop?   No, and I never would. I’d be way too scared.  Who is that last good musician or band you discovered?   I don’t recall. The past several years I haven’t been into music as much as I used to. There were a couple years where I like didn’t listen to music at all. My Spotify wrapped had nothing, haha. I’ve been listening to it more often this past year, but still not a lot. For most of my life prior I always listened to music. I couldn’t go a day without it. I don’t know what happened, honestly.  Do you like to watch talent shows like America's Got Talent and X Factor?   Yeah, like The Voice. I haven’t watched the past couple seasons, though.  Have you ever tried avocado toast?   I actually haven’t. I didn’t get on with the trend, but I’m sure I’d like it.  Name three items on your wish list right now.   I just want to get better and travel. I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired and stuck in this damn bed. I feel like Grandpa Joe from Charlie in the Chocolate Factory. I hope I’ll be able to do things again and feel decent before I’m an old woman.... Are you more talented musically or artistically or neither?   Neither, sadly. I’m lame.  Are you better at English or math?   English. I’ve always been horrible at math. What were your best subjects in school?   English. What was your favorite subject in school?   English, go figure. Have you ever visited a teacher at their home?   I didn’t visit them, but I had a professor who held a lecture at his house once and served lunch. I’m not quite sure why, but it was okay.  How many windows are in your bedroom?   One. Who was your first roommate?   I’ve never had a roommate.  Who was your first best friend (besides a sibling)?   These two girls when I was in preschool, Crystal and Starr.  Do you have a sibling who looks like you?   My brothers and I have similar features of course, but I don’t think you’d know right off the bat we were related. It’s crazy how some families have super strong genes and you just know right away they’re from the same family. Like actual clones. Name three women you know who have lost a child.   What kind of question is this. Whose was the last funeral you attended or watched?   My grandpa’s.  What types of cancer are in your family, if any?   I know melanoma is.  Do you have big dreams for your future?   No. :/ My future looks bleak.  Do you feel alone?   I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately. What is this month's calendar picture?   I don’t have a calendar.  What is the theme of your wall calendar for this year?   -- Have you ever seen a double rainbow?   Yes. How old will you be on your next birthday?   34. Which nationalities have you been told you look like? (i.e., Asian, Irish) Fliipino and Mexican. Both of which I am.  Have you ever had an outstanding library fine?   Nope. What book are you currently reading?   The Girl and the Winter Bones by AJ Rivers.  Are you poor/broke right now?   No. I’m not rich either. Do you hate social classes?   What do you mean? Like ones who require a lot of discussion? If so, then yes. I hated those type of classes. Seminar courses were the worst cause it was all discussion based. Have you ever received any scary, threatening messages on social media?  No. Who was your first kiss?   My boyfriend at the time.  Do you feel you have found your soulmate yet?   No. I did think I actually had found “the one” at one point. What a joke. Are you single or in a relationship?   I’m extremely single.  If you're single, do you want to be, or do you wish you weren't?   I want to be and it’s for the best. Ever collected shells at the beach?   Yeah. Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin?   I’d just paint one at this point cause I don’t have the energy to carve one. It’s hard and takes a long time. Especially cleaning out all the goop. Besides, I always ended up doing the same typical triangle eyes and a goofy smile that had a few teeth. Who are three of your favorite youtubers to watch?   I have so many favorites.  What year did you graduate high school?   2008.  What do you miss about high school?   I liked the pep rallies and some of the assemblies.  What do you miss about college?   I really enjoyed being in the psych club. I was even a board member, which was cool. We did a lot of fun things. What color was your first car?   I haven’t had a car. Do you have a car now?   No. What color was the house you grew up in?   Beige. Growing up, what floor was your bedroom on?   I’ve always lived in a single story home. What is your birth order in the family?   I’m a middle kid. What would your name be if you were the opposite gender?   My mom had said Jesse.  What were you almost named?   I’m not sure. Does your bedroom have carpet?   Yes. Best camping experience?   I’ve never gone camping. I have no desire to do so. What are the top three travel destinations on your bucket list?   There’s so manyyyy. Plus, I’m so stir crazy right now and just want to go somewhere.  Do you get heartburn?   Bleh, yes. Not fun. What are three things you are known for in your town?   >> I live in a city, not a small town, so... nothing. I am just an average person amongst hundreds of thousands of other average people <<<  What are three things you are known for on social media?   I mean, on this blog I’m known for doing surveys. And complaining about my life, ha. What is your Instagram account name?   I don’t want to give that out. Have you ever used Snapchat?   Yeah, I’ve had Snapchat for several years. I rarely go on it anymore, though.  Did you want to be famous when you were younger?   When I was a kid I kind of did. I used to practice writing my signature like I was signing autographs lol. What show did you most want to be on as a kid?   Like shows on Nickelodeon and Disney. First celebrity you were obsessed with?   Aaron Carter when I was 9.  First celebrity crush?   ^^^ He was also my first celebrity crush. What was your first favorite stuffed animal?   Hm. I’m not sure what I’d say was my first favorite.  What was something unique about you as a kid?   I don’t feel anything was unique about me.  Were you ever goth/emo?   I had my emo phase. Though, I’d say it wasn’t really just a phase let’s be real. Forever emo, even if I don’t have the “look” or anymore or wear the same things.  Do you want any more piercings?   I kind of do, but I’m too scared to ever get anything done. How many tattoos do you have?   Zero. Do you want more tattoos?   I don’t have any to start with. If you had to get a tattoo, what would you get?   I’ve wanted ‘free bird’ for many, many years. Do you mostly write in cursive or print?   I write in print unless I’m signing something. Were you ever homeschooled?   Well, I had to do the independent study thing when I had to miss several months of school due to surgeries and long hospital stays. One of those times when I was in the 6th grade my teacher would come over a couple times a week to help me with homework.  Describe your dream wedding in five words.   I’ve never put a whole lot of thought into that. I wasn’t the girl who dreamt of her wedding day all her life. I honestly don’t even ever see myself getting married.  Pick three animals that you think resemble you, and why?   I don’t think any animals resemble me. Are you unique?   No. Do you get called a free spirit?   No. What day of the week were you born on?   I think it was a Tuesday. How are you feeling right now? Crappy as always.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[leahcee]

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#I’ve been crying for the past three to four fucking days and I’m just tired #I’m tired of everything #I’m tired of feeling like I’m nkt wanted #I’m tired of feeling alone #I’m tired of work and school #at this point my tears aren’t of sadness it’s pain but also numbness??? just hot tears whenever I get a moment to myself and my mind starts #to think about my life #it’s why I force myself to stay busy #even it’s just rewatching a show bc at least my mind is focused on something amd my thoughts can’t drown me #I hate that I feel selfish when I want to mention to someone close to me that what they’re doing is hurting me #or that they’re making me question if we’re still even friends bc they’ll hang out w other ppl and not reply to me for days on end #and it scares me that so #someone* I consider close can just drop me for whatever reason #bht whatever right bc I care about people’s feelings too much and I know that they’re going thru a lot and have their own lives to worry ano #about** #but it’s like I’m always there when ppl need me and when I need them it’s like speaking into the void #and it’s the reason why I get scared to meet new ppl and make new friends or even be too nice to people bc I’ve been taken advantage of sooo #many fucking times in my life and I just can’t handle being used anymore #it’s exhausting and I’m tired #I just want to exist w/o pain or anxiety or fear of abandonment #and on top of all this shit I think I have a yeast infection again 😭😭😭

[technowoah]

hey hey hey! i really really really love ur works and wanna reuwest a purpled x reader one. also since purpled said hes only comfy with his character what about the reader losing their last cannon life to dream and purpled gets really really sad until like- a month later, she comes back from hell. kinda like c!jacks revival. If your not comfy with this pls ignore <3

My Mission

Purpled is still trying to figure out how to deal with your death, but before he can you come back.

- Platonic Purpled x Revived!Reader

- Anon Requested!

- blurb

- italics = flashback (except the last few lines)

- the "hes" out of italics are referring to Purpled.

⚠︎: slight swearing, angst to fluff-ish, gore, no dsmp spoilers.

An// I know this is late but I'm having major writers block lol ✌🏾😛 I hope you like it love!

The night was cold as he sat on a hill away from the kingdom Dream had made himself. The tall grass flowed around him like a blanket on his bed he wish he could be in right now, but he chose this, he chose to be here. His blonde hair whipped around his face harshly, but he didnt bother move it out of his eyes he could still see the destination ahead of him.

The kingdom looking like a bright star the fell to the ground. He used to love sitting and watching the lights of the kingdom at night flicker like a fallen star that still had its glow. The small smile he had on his face fell when his mind reminded him of the tragedy a month ago.

The night was cold and dark and that couldn't resemble how he was feeling right now. Anger, resentment, betrayed flowed through his heart. He wanted revenge.

The swords were already shined and ready for blood, arrows sharpened to the point, and potions made to kill the second it envelopes you. Months of preparation was right there next to him, ready to be finally used.

He wanted revenge for his best friend.

He left the kingdom for an hour grabbing every weapon he had before finding a place he used to go with his best friend.

----------------

"The kingdom looks beautiful!" You said while standing up in the tall grass.

Purpled had taken you to a far away spot out of the dsmp kingdom just for fun.

"I know, I come here often when I want to clear my head." Purpled said while sitting down in the hill letting the grass tickle his skin.

It was the middle of the say and almost sun down. You two had hiked up away from the kingdom and up a semi huge hill that gave a great view of the lights.

"How did you find this place?" You smiled to the boy sitting down to the side of you.

"Just was hiking I guess!" He laughed. "Well I was looking for more caves outside of the kingdom and stood on this hill, and looked back and saw the beautiful view."

"Now this is your spot now?" You smiled and nodded.

"I mean it's our spot now. You're the only other person who knows about it." Purpled motioned for his friend to sit down and you did.

"Great." You smiled at him and he shared that smile.

"Great."

------------------

He finally stood up from his spot on the hill and made his way back to the kingdom, weapons at his mercy and ready to be used.

The walk back to the kingdom was long, but he wasnt in a rush. He just wanted to keep his mind calm before he finally faced the man who he wanted to kill. The man whos blood should be on his arrows and swords he just sharpened for this occasion.

He walks with purpose and in stride. He always does, he was always busy around the kingdom. Making something new or not even saying what he was doing, no one would want to cross his path because no one would want to know what trouble he was gettng himself into. But they always knew he would come put alive in the end.

He walked along the prime path keeping his gaze forward. He sped up his walk trying to get to the place he needs to go faster to get this feeling out of his body. Sadly him staring straight ahead made him bump shoulders with someone passing by. He didn't have the time to look back and stop, but a familiar voice made him stop.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you are going!"

Damn it.

He tried to walk away, but he heard the footsteps get closer and the protests get louder.

"Hey asshole! You know Im talking to you Purpled?! Stop!"

"What do you want Quackity?!"

"Damn it took that long for you to turn around?!" The scarred man laughed as the blonde started at him blankly.

Quackity had a small smirk on his face before he looked around to make sure no one else is spying on them. Quackity chuckled while crossing his arms looking at the impatient blonde infront of him.

"What. Do. You. Want. Shouldn't you be in Las Nevadas?" He scoffed.

"I should! I should. But I heard about your little predicament." Quackity still had that taunting smile on his face.

"I wouldn't call it a predicament I would call it a missi-"

"A mission. Yeah I know, that's what you call every thing now-a-days." Quackity shook his head in disbelief. "Even when your best friend dies..Its a damn misson."

Purpled stayed quiet and let the older man talk. He didn't need to hear this, but at least this will hunor him before his miss- plans.

"Its a shame! It really is. But you know what Purpled?" Quackity's voice got quieter.

"If this is about Las Nevadas, you should leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"I bet you do." Quackity looked away from the blonde. "Its a shame that you dont even know where Dream is to kill him."

--------------

"Y/N! Get out of my way!"

"I will not let you hurt him!"

"Get out of his way!"

Purpled was injured, pretty badly at that. He was clutching his side in pain where a arrow had struck him. His face had long cuts across it, and so did his body. The only way you could see the cuts along his body is because the cuts Dream had made tore through his clothes.

Purpled looked like he couldn't stand back up. You didn't want to know why they were fighting so brutally, you only showed up when Dream stood above Purpled about to take the final blow, sword clutched tightly in-between his hands.

The only thing you saw was that and you ran in the middle of the two blocking Dream from doing anymore damage to Purpled. Now the two men are yelling at you to get out of Dream's way.

"You're really stubborn aren't you?" Dream dropped his sword to his side, but still kept that tight grip on the handle.

"For my friends, yeah I am." You said with your head held high looking at the masked man.

"Y/N." Purpled groaned behind you. "Go, please."

You turned your whole body around to face him. He couldn't get up, still kneeling on the ground he tried to move and stand to his full height. It was impossible for him to do so. You saw a keep gash where his knee is. Dream must've stabbed his knee, through his knee.

"You stay down! I can handle this!"

"Where is your armor?! Huh?! Where is all your gear?! You're vulnerable!"

"You are too!"

"As much as this pains me to see the two bestest friends fight, Move." Dream said sternly while placing a rough hand on your shoulder.

"Dream get your hand off of them!" Purpled yelled.

"At this point you cannot tell me what to do." Dream chuckled. "This state that you're in! Its pathetic!"

Purpled hung his head low while Dream kept on running his mouth.

"Y/N! Do you even want to know why we're even fighting?! Its all his-"

"I dont want to know. Frankly I dont care just stop hurting him." Your words came out calmer than you wanted because you really were vulnerable at this point.

"I haven't even finished the job, my misson." Dream scoffed.

"If you wanto to finish "your mission" go through me first." You said while finding Purpled's sword on the ground next to him and gripping it tightly just like Dream.

"Y/N stop this!"

"Fine then."

Dream had grabbed your shoulder again so hard it could leave a bruise and brought your shoulders forward. You didn't have any time to react and the next thing you saw when you looked down was his sword going through your stomach. It hurt to breathe, and you felt yourself coughing up blood onto the grass beneath you. He had finally let go of your shoulder and you fell to your side letting your body go numb.

"NO DREAM!" Purpled tried to reach you, but ended up getting kicked down by Dream.

"Im done with you now. Its no point. I thought killing you would be better, but watching you suffer after your best friend gets killed is good enough for me."

"My mission is done, and they were right. You are vulnerable."

-------------

"Where is he then?" He asked trying not to sound rushed.

"You would like to know huh? Well Let me tell you about this thing I have first. I mean if you want to know where Dream is for your little mission" Quackity proposed and he stayed quiet waiting for the older man's response.

"I have this book, it was given to me by an old ally of mine. It has all of the lives of everyone in it. The whole book is filled with names and if they are dead or not-"

"Where are you going with this?" He interrupted.

"Im saying that not everyone knows of Y/N's death. Its not any big headlines. So I read this book often and I so happened to see their name and underneath it, it said they were dead."

"And?"

"I have a proposal-"

"No." He started to walk away leaving Quackity to stand and yell at the younger one.

"Oh come on! Dont you want your friend back?!" Quackity yelled as the other walked away briskly.

"Fine! You'll owe me!"

----------

It was over. He ended up back on the same hill again, but this time it was pitch black and the only light available was the light in the stars and the light from the kingdom. He could hear faint noises of mobs in the distance, but they didn't dare come near him.

His eyes started to water and his vision began to get blurry. He didn't kill Dream, he couldn't. That's not what you would've wanted.

Dream was right all along. He was vulnerable, he was always vulnerable.

He closed his eyes letting tears drop onto his cheeks. He was upset that he couldn't fulfill his mission, the one thing he knew he could do for the one he misses the most in life. He failed. And now Dream is sitting somewhere, he didn't even take Quackity's proposal. He didn't even know what Dream was to kil him.

Still, even if he wasnt discouraged, he would've still tried to hunt Dream down. He didn't care if it took him months to a year, he didn't care if it killed him. One day.

He looked out to the kingdom once more with eyes full of tears. The kingdom now looking like a ball of light and not as detailed.

"Purpled?"

He sighed brushing the call off, he was hearing things.

"Hey, Purpled."

He shook his head with his hands cupping his face. He was convincing himself that his head was playing tricks on him because there is no one that could be out here at this time.

"I thought I would get a warmer welcome than this."

He felt the grass moving beside him and he quickly turned his head to his right where he saw the person he wanted to the most. You.

It was you, but you had a white streak in your hair, your stomach still had a bigger scar still on it. It was you, it was finally you. He hesitated before reaching out to hug you, there was some tall grass in between you two but it didn't matter, he had you back. You had to feel tears fall on your back because he was crying, he tried to keep his sobs quiet but they slipped out.

"Are you okay?" He asked while sniffing.

"Im alive now. Thats progress." You responded hesitantly before continuing. "I wanted to stay dead. I mean it had to be my time right? I was in hell and I don't know why. Why was I there?!"

You started sobbing on his shirt as well and you took a big breath before starting to talk again.

"And then I just showed up not that far from here. It was horrible, like an out of body experience. I dont know who brought me back either! But now I found you here and Im okay enough." You smiled with tiredness in your eyes as you pulled away from the long hug.

"I tried to kill Dream." He confessed.

"Because of me?"

He hummed in agreement "I couldn't, thats not what you would've wanted."

"Why would you know what I wanted?" You asked the blonde. "I was dead for a month."

"You wanted me to kill him?" He asked with a bit of excitement in his voice.

"Consider this a new mission." You smiled while standing up and him following suit.

"My mission." He whispered while looking at the ground. "It'll take a while, but we'll get him. I promise."

You two locked pinkie fingers together to seal the promise. A promise that would be sealed to the end of time. No matter how long or who dies, he never fails a mission.

"Oh! Also, I have a note for you." You handed him a small torn note that you found lying next to you when you reappeared.

--------------

Dear Purpled,

You're welcome. They're here now.

Remember that favor I never got to ask you?

I suppose you should listen to me now.

Q

#mcyt blurb #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #purpled x reader #purpled imagine #platonic mcyt x reader #mcyt platonic #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #purpled fluff #purpled angst #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x oc #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x you #dream smp x oc

[bubsdolan]

Woah!!! Part 2 to Reader getting in an accident after an arguement with Gray???

{part 1}

there were many moments in grayson dolan’s 21 years on earth where he felt incredibly blessed to have a twin brother, especially one like ethan. from being his best friend and number one supporter in anything, to sharing food and girl advice, learning and growing together and being grayson’s right hand man through life,  he had never been more grateful to have ethan by his side in this moment. 

that and the fact ethan had purchases a car that can exceed a speed of up to 199.5 mph, meant they wasted no time in getting grayson to the hospital to be reunited with you.

as he sat in the passenger seat, legs bouncing uncontrollably with fear and anxiousness, tears softly rolling down his cheeks, he clutched tightly to the stuffed animal in his hands. a sight for anyone who would laugh at a 200 pound man, crying and cuddling a teddy. 

petal, your stuffed elephant, was a childhood teddy your mother had given you the day you were born. you never slept without petal, she was a third wheel in your relationship with grayson as she offered you the same comfort he did every night being away from family home. home was anywhere grayson was, but petal was also a piece of the family you left behind when staffing a new life with the man you loved.

grayson knew you better than anyone and he could guarantee that when you woke up, because he wholeheartedly knew you were- his strong brave girl and you couldn't leave him- that petal would be the first thing you would want to see as much as his angel eyes. the stuffed animal also brought grayson a sense of comfort and reassurance having her with him. 

grayson didn't even allow ethan the chance to drive into the car park of the emergency room before he was taking off and sprinting to the reception desk. teddy in hand as he panted out your first and last name. shocking the nurse at his panicked state, dishevelled appearance and the continuous fidgeting on the heels of his feet. 

“y/n-y/n y/l/n… she’s in a coma. pleas-please i need to see her. she needs- she needs me.” 

“may i ask your relationship to the patient?” 

growing impatient, grayson raises his temper to the next level. the longer he was kept away from you, the more agitated he became.

“my girlfriend is fighting for her life right now! i need to see her, i don’t have time for this!”

“bro-” ethan came running in, throwing the tesla in the first available space before jogging after his fragile brother and coming to be the calm, sensible one in this situation. “let me handle it.”

reluctantly grayson stood off to the side, his ears perking and eyes desperately following every patient being rushed through the automatic doors, every doctor or nurse walking past him with sympathetic looks. he hoped someone would tell him what's going on and where you were. the waiting game was torture, but it was only just beginning. 

“they’re gonna take us to her now, c’mon.” ethan pulls grayson down the maze like corridors to where the receptionist who he had to apologise profusely for his twins attitude earlier, lead them to the room where apart of grayson was fighting for her life. fighting for his life. he was nothing without you. 

ethan let grayson walk in first, accidentally colliding into the back of grayson as he stood frozen outside the door and mentally prepared himself for a sight he never wished to see. his breathing hitched as he took in the sight of you battered and braised. covered head to toe in a mixture of dirt, dried blood and bandages, as the only thing keeping you alive right now were the medical tubes swarming your precious body. 

grayson felt his heart shatter into a million pieces inside him. he couldn’t help but feel tears well up in his eyes, imagining how bad your accident had been to the point where you were put into a coma and how he wasnt there to protect you like he has always promised. he pictured how scared you must have been, all alone and defenceless.

with rushed but easy strides, grayson was at your side before ethan even got the chance to thank the nurse and follow behind. not wanting to cause you any further pain or discomfort, grayson gently placed petal under your arm, keeping her close to your body and secure so you wouldn't lose her even in your unconscious state. with a shakey breath, he plants a soft kiss on yours then petals forehead, his own slient way of commciaing to you that he was there. that you had nothing to worry about because he was finally there to protect you. 

“hey my sweet girl. im right here, im here and i love you. so much.”

“fight for me yeah? for us.”

grayson automatically took the seat next to your hospital bed, reaching forward to hold your hand kindly in his own as he vowed to himself he wouldn’t leave your beside until you woke up. no matter how long it was going to take. weeks, months, years, he was willing to wait for you. 

grayson vividly remembered being told that the brain of a coma patient may continue to work. it might “hear” the sounds in the environment, like the footsteps of someone approaching or the voice of a loved one speaking. he made sure to continually talk to you about everything and anything on his mind. referencing back to the time you would take late night drives and talk about life hand in hand and contently in love.

when discussing your future together on a late night monty’s run, this definitely wasn’t how he envisioned it would turn out to be. what once was a shared dream, was now a shared nightmare.

“e’s here too.”

“hey squirt.” ethan felt stupid speaking aloud to someone who wouldn't respond to him, but the small smile it coaxed on grayson’s face, after hours of sadness, made it worth while. grayson always valued the sibling friendship you and ethan shared. he didn’t even pause for a minute to think about your accident had affected him also, until he hard the nickname ethan often uses to tease you.

swallowing the lump in his throat, grayson spoke up again. 

“im sorry. im so fucking sorry. i meant nothing i said earlier, fuck im an idiot. i love you baby, always and forever.”

“we aren't going anywhere you hear me. you come back to us ok, show me those pretty eyes of yours baby. let me hear your laugh, let me see your smile, you gotta wake up for me- please wake up for me.”

grayson begged and pleaded with your unresponsive body. the sound of your heart rate monitor being the only sign you gave him as his eyes focused on your lifeless body. desperately hoping for so much as a flinch from you or a miracle to happen.

he caressed your hand slowly, continuing to cry silently as he looked over to you, feeling like this was all his fault. “i’m sorry” he choked out, resting his head down against the back of your hand. “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry baby.”

grayson wish you could say something back, even if it was to spite him and call him out for his outburst hours earlier. he just wanted to hear your voice again.

“grayson, none of this was your fault!” ethan was quick to jump to grayson’s defence, hating the way his brother was beating himself up over something that was out of his control. ethan feared how grayson would react if the worst case scenario of turning your life support machine off would happen. it didn’t bare to think about.

hearing a knock at the door, grayson wiped his tears quickly before turning to see the doctor was approaching grayson with a warm smile. grayson felt a sense of relief finally meeting the incredible man tasked with saving your life.

“here’s some personal belongings that they recovered at the scene. this seemed to be the only thing to survive the terrible ordeal.” he said, handing grayson an all to familiar box of the watch brand he had non stop being gushing about.

as the doctor made his swift exit, promising to return shortly and check on your progress, grayson opened the box to reveal the item that causes you to end up where you were right now. with no pieces of his heart left to break, grayson felt numb.

the engraving of the date grayson first told you he loves you, joined together by your pairing initials, elegantly graced the under face of the watch. he swapped his old one with the new, staring down at the jewellery on his wrist that held a brand new meaning from the simple pleasure of owning it, he planned to never take it off. 

everything seem to make sense now. the guy in the scandalous photo become Crystal clear as he recognised him to be the gentlemen from his brief encounter when trying to surprise ethan with a housewarming gift. much like what you were doing for grayson. he realised it now, when it was too late.

you never cheated on him. you never betrayed him. never used him. he discredited the great lengths you went to in order to surprise him with his dream watch. his own insecurities and the fact he was easily manipulated by twitter fingers and his so called fans, may be the reason you never wake up. 

was this watch the only thing to survive the accident? grayson was about to find out.

{part 3}

#bubsdolan #grayson dolan #grayson #grayson dolan blurb #grayson blurb #grayson dolan imagine #grayson imagine #grayson dolan angst #grayson angst #grayson dolan concept #grayson concept #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson fanfic #grayson dolan fluff #grayson fluff #grayson dolan x reader #grayson x reader #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fluff #dolan twins angst #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins fanfic

[george-fabian-weasley]

if we had 5 more minutes — f. w.

Summary: You thought you could save Fred from the rumbles of falling stones; you did your best, only to be in the rumbles with him instead.

Words: 2,160 words

Warnings ⚠ : ANGST, TW: Death, TW: Battle of Hogwarts, TW: war, TW: injuries, Fred died, you died, big Pain™, I strongly suggest tissues and a dozen of comfort chocolates, I cried so you will too, Basically An Emotional Rollercoaster, Read At Your Own Risk

Disclaimer: inspired by Billie Eilish's cover of The End of The World, so... ya'll know this is going to be a painful ride. Buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated! <3 p/s: reading this with the song at the background really helps with the tear pouring effect ;)

Disclaimer 2.0: i know what yall are thinking... what tf is syaf doing, posting a fic when she’s in a hiatus she just posted yesterday? Also where is mad hatter chap 5 and epilogue? well, my brain likes to conjure up ideas at very inappropriate times (like rn) so bare with me and uh i’ve been really physically and mentally exhausted from work (retail is bathshit crazy) to write the mad hatter series so idk when will i update the two chapters but i’m working on it! thank you for being patient, and im sorry for causing you guys to wait for so long, ilysm don’t kill me <3 

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The end of the world.

The Battle of Hogwarts looked like the end of the world. Curses and spells thrown left to right, different kinds of bodies found at each corner and crook, walls here and there crumbling as down as hope for freedom. And blood.

At that point of time, the pools of blood on the floor look the same; pureblood or not. Because they bleed the same anguish red.

You didn't need to see the apocalypse of the world anymore. Screw the end of Mother Earth; this battle in front of your eyes was more than enough — sadly — to be your end of the world.

“Hey,” You called, causing Fred to turn his head around to your direction, his lips etched up a smile before replying with another hey. You sat next to him, the place where George had sat before he got up and left to speak with Professor Lupin.

Evil is winning, and good is losing. But then again, what difference would it make; if good kills as many as evil? At the end of the world, there is no good and evil alone. There are desperation, madness, and hunger for power, lust for victory brought along with them.

So, at the end of the world, you chose to be side by side with your lover, Fred Weasley. The red-headed dork you’ve taught yourself to pour your love into had become the very source of your life. He is your elixir, he is your soul, heart, and happiness.

It was silent for a while, none of you had anything to say. Yet the silence was comforting, with only the presence of each other as calming as it is. “Y/N,” Fred suddenly turned his head to you, biting his lower lip in contemplation. “Hm?” “Can you just stay at the Burrow?” 

You blinked, “What?” Fred sighed, “Can you just stay at the Burrow right now and not join the war? I- I don’t want you to join in-” “Fred-” “I-It’s dangerous and it’s literally a war a-and I don’t want you to get hurt I would- I would rather die than have you hurt-” 

“Fred!” You raised your voice, your hand clasping onto his securely, an effort to calm his frenzied thoughts. He stopped rambling and stared at you with those doe eyes you adored so much, “You know I can’t do that.”

“We need everyone on board for this war. I am no exception- bloody hell, even your parents are joining in, Freddie!” You tried to explain slowly, and Fred closed his eyes in denial of defeat. 

“I love you,” he suddenly blurted out. He noticed the slight fluster you had, your eyebrows were raised for a millisecond before they furrowed upon a realization, “Wait, why are you saying this now? I-“ “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated himself and you shook your head, realizing what he was doing, “Wait, hold on a minute, no-“

He was saying it in case anything happens.

“Y/N, I love you-” “Don’t you dare say it one more time like you’re not gonna make it, Fred Weasley, I swear to Merlin,” You cut him off, your jaw clenching at his absurdness. “… Aren’t you gonna say it back?” Fred asked, his voice was small.

“I-” You sighed, “No, I won’t because I don’t want to say it right now, given the circumstances,” You paused, your voice quieting down, “It felt like a goodbye when you say it like that.” “Then when will you say it? We’ve been dating for almost a year and you'd never say it before,” He said.

“Really? This is the time to argue about this?” You gave him a pointed look, but your expression softened as you understood the meaning behind his actions. “Look, Freddie, I- You know how I feel about us,” You sighed, looking down at your hands on your lap, “You know I’m not that expressive with my words but- but I’m trying and- okay, let’s make a deal,” Fred’s ears perked up the mention of a deal. "I'm listening," he drawled.

“I’ll say the words when the war is over,” Fred gave you a sour look that clearly said ‘really?’ and it caused you to huff a smile, “Once everything is over, and everything is okay again, I’ll say them as many times as you want me to, okay?” Fred leaned into your touch as you cupped his cheek with your hand, kissing his forehead.

“Even if I made you say it a thousand times?” He asked and you chuckled, your heart warming at his childlike question, “I’ll say it for an hour if you asked me to.”

It happened so fast.

One second you were fighting off the Death Eaters with Percy and Fred, and then the other, you find your body aching at the major pressure from the rocks and debris that used to be Hogwarts’ protective wall from the outside world.

It was dark, and it was dusty, but you were too unconscious to notice. That was until you felt your cheek being patted a few times. As you gained consciousness with a cough or two, you also gained the pending pain spreading all across your whole body. You couldn’t feel your legs, or safe to say your whole lower body part. 

Memories of you a few moments ago trying to push Fred away from the rumbles but ended up facing the falling stones head-on with him instead began to flow back into your mind. How foolish could you be to act like a hero, as if you could sacrifice yourself for him to live.

“… Y-Y/N…”

You turned your head with a silent grunt, and your eyes fixate at the body beside you, a few feet away, Fred. 

He had blood leaking from his nose and ears, probably from the impact, and his face was dusty with debris from the stones. As he looked at you, he threw you a smile; a weak, hiding the fact that he’s in immense pain kind of smile.

“F-fancy seeing you here,” he grunted with a wince, a smile nevertheless rested on his lips. “Fred…” you could only mutter his name, closing your eyes for a brief second at the growing pain on your thighs. The pressure from the rumbles had slowly increased, and you felt yourself losing consciousness again. Only to be brought back to open your eyes as Fred poked your cheeks a few more times, “Hey, hey, s-stay with me, love.”

“We’ll… We’ll be okay.”

You winced at the trickling sensation on your skin as you tried to move your fingers towards him, “It’s… It’s impossible, Fred…” You voiced out, your voice cracking up. You saw Fred’s lips quivered before he threw you another comforting smile, “Don’t… Don’t say that. We’ll make it… I-I know we will.”

“We… We will?”

Groaning from the injuries on his body as he tried to move closer to you, he nodded, “We will.”

You felt his fingers trying to reach for yours, and you handed him assistance as you hooked your fingers with his. His hand was cold, trembling. But it was Fred’s. And Fred’s hand is always warm.

“It’s… It’s so heavy,” You whimpered in pain, looking at Fred for comfort. All Fred wished to do at the moment was to be strong enough. Strong enough to push off these rumbles pressing onto his body. Strong enough to pull you out from the pain. All he wished for was for you to not be in pain anymore. But he knew he couldn’t do anything. The rumbles were too big, too heavy, and it would take a while for anyone to find them at the bottom of everything. 

Fred breathed out heavily through his mouth, slowly finding it difficult to breathe through his nose anymore, trying his best to look strong for you, “Stay with me, love. S-stay with me. Five more minutes. F-five more minutes and they’ll- they’ll save us…”

“Fred…”

“Five more minutes, I promise…”

You saw the desperation in his eyes, trying his best to somehow keep you afloat until you two are saved. You heard muffles from the other side, Percy screaming for Fred and you. His screams were sad and painful to hear; you would’ve cried for him if it wasn’t for the constant high-pitched ringing in your ears.

“Fred, h-hold my hand. P-please,” You whispered, finding no more strength to say anything louder than a whisper. He instantly intertwined your fingers with his, stretching as far as he could to reach you; no matter how screeching the pain in his lower body was.

“Fred,” You called him again. He chuckled a bit, “You’re… you’re saying my name a lot of times right now, darling.” You huffed a smile, the corner of your lips twitched, “… I want to ask you something.”

“… Anything.”

Your eyes met his, even in the darkness, his eyes still managed to look so beautiful. So earthly beautiful. “… Are you happy, Freddie?”

There was something about the way you say it, Fred couldn’t get a touch of what it was but… it felt like a goodbye. As much as Fred hated to admit, he wasn’t holding on much longer either. He was bleeding heavily from everywhere, his wand was out of his reach, and his body was starting to numb. His vision began to blur by itself, hence he blinked his eyes repeatedly. Trying his best to see your features clearly, one last time, if the worst happens.

This is it, he thought. This is the end of my line. 

Finding an urge to cry, but didn’t have enough strength to sob, Fred let out a tear or two onto the dusty surface he laid his head on, his eyes closing after the content stare of your beautiful— though bloody and dusty— face. How ironic, he’s slipping away first even though he was the one who said five more minutes.

If only you had five more minutes.

“W-with… With you? Heh, always… “ The whisper coming out from his mouth caused you to narrow your eyes at him. It felt strange, it felt wrong. Was he saying goodbye? Watching Fred close his eyes was alarming, so you gained all your strength to pat his hand a few times, “H-hey, Freddie… Five more minutes. Hang… Hang on for five more minutes, please.”

You squeezed his hand, and he naturally squeezed back, only this time it was weaker than usual. His grip on your hand started to soften, but you tightened yours desperately. The pain all over your body was partially forgotten, your only focus was on keeping Fred breathing and alive, as well as yourself. 

“I’m… I’m trying, my love… but I’m sleepy… and tired…” he mumbled, his words became slurred by time. He was on the edge, you realized that. Upon the sad realization, you bit your tongue, trying your best to prepare for the worst. “L-look at me, darling,” Your voice quivered, feeling the sandy surface on your temple as you tried to force your eyes open, to properly look at him, “Look at me.”

You knew it. He was slipping away from your fingers, and you were slipping too. It didn’t matter anymore even if Percy bulldozed his way to you now, it was too late. Simply too late. And that’s none of his faults. It’s none of his and none of yours.

Some things are just meant to be.

You took your other hand and placed it onto his cold, dirty cheek. Caressing his cheekbone gently, you gave him a comforting smile, “Fred.”

He looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. He’s at the end, you acknowledged. You widen your smile to assure him, although the tears escaping your eyes say otherwise, “… You make me happy. You make me so so happy. And I… I love you.”

“I love you, Freddie.”

With a big smile, Fred widened his eyes weakly, letting out a sigh of content as he looked at you with gentle eyes,“… Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?“

Gentle eyes that soon hollowed empty.

“Yeah,” the dam of your tears broke down, “Took me a long time...” You squeezed his now lifeless hand, trying to find comfort and warmth from him for the last time. You smiled at Fred, whilst tears rolling down your temple slowly as if mourning the passing of your lover for you. You inched closer to him, careful not to graze your injuries, and met your nose with his.

You caressed his cheek, finally feeling yourself lose consciousness. This is it, you thought, I won’t wake up ever again. “You said we’ll be okay,” You whispered weakly, huffing a content smile on your lips. Staring into his eyes that had held so much love and pure unadulterated affection for you all these years, now empty with no trace of life, had sent you into pain more powerful than the injuries present on and in your body.

“I guess we will be, after this.”

“… You spent your last five minutes with me, huh?” You felt yourself going in and out of consciousness, and your vision blurring continuously, “Aren’t you a sappy git,” the mere whisper escaped your mouth with a sigh. The warm smile never left your lips, and the only thing in your mind was how peaceful he looked as of that moment, and you wondered if you’ll ever be in that state of peace, with him.  

“No- no- no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! no!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them with his hand on Y/N’s head, and the pair of lovers stared at each other without seeing, the ghost of their last smile still etched upon their faces.

On our last few drags of air, we agree

I was, and you were

Happy

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but​ @sirenswhispers​ @lilac-skies-xd​ @obsessedunicorn24​ @foggyturtleknightangel​​ @evewithluv​ @softlyqoos​ @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13​ @lilypad-55449​ @fiantomartell​ @hopemalfoyweasley​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @bucketandpotato​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @adoregin​ @littlechillies​ @phuvioqhile​ @sweetnspicysimp​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @harrypotter289​ @emptyporsche​ @tallyovie​  @potters-heart​ @amourtentiaa​ @lunalovecroft​ @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom​ @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @rcwenaclaw​ @sevsbitxh​ @freds-slut​ @acosmis-t​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @vote4weasleys​ @anchoeritic​​ @alluringshawn​ @cute-sidney​ @anna-banana-13​ @lostaurorax​ @emrysts​ @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasley #frederick gideon weasley

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

Home Masterlist

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Taglist: @animeboihoe @karlitabi-rrito @mutli-fandom-fanfic @comically-sleep-deprived @madmelle @momoinot @eggbutnotyolk @yunhosblackgf @6sakusa @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @a-fucking-simp @its-babybitch @sakusasonlywife @japanushiiiii @dekuspet @sredamancy @haikyuusimp91 @shoyosbitchh @far-off-dream @tsukkisfatsimp

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #haikyuu smut #atsumu miya #suna rintarou #hinata shoyuo #atsumu x female reader #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #suna angst #hinata x reader #hinata angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu suna #haikyuu hinata #hinata smut #atsumu is an ass #suna is a simp #hinata can rail me

[insiderengokushaori]

Warnings: Non-Con, use of aphrodisiacs, violence, dead dove do not eat

18+ Minors DNI

His brow furrows when you’re blown back away from him, and he’s by your side in an instant, checking you over for injuries. He leans over you, his hair falling around you in a golden curtain. 

“Good, it looks like you’re unharmed,” His expression softens once he’s helped you sit up. “Get control of your breathing.”

You try to do as he says, blinking the stars out of your eyes as you do. Your ears start to ring, so you can’t hear the next thing he says to you, but you nod anyways. He moves to stand, lurching forward before he can get up, his eyes wide. 

You frown at him, struggling to stand when his skin goes pale. 

“Rengoku, what’s wrong?” You put a hand on his shoulder, flinching away when he jerks you off. The demon behind you looks triumphant. 

“I was hoping she could distract you long enough for me to inject you!” His voice grates on your ears. You step in front of your superior to guard him. 

“What did you do to him?” 

“I’d worry about yourself, now,” The demon beams at you, but his smile makes your skin crawl. You tighten your grip on your sword, assuming a stance. “The effects of the aphrodisiac should be kicking in any second!” 

“The- what is that?” 

In the blink of an eye, your superior’s swept your feet out from under you, and you’re staring up at him with wide eyes. His pupils are blown wide, and he leans over you looking horrified with his own actions. 

“You see,” The demon continues, each word patronizing. “Us demons can’t reproduce. We have no need for intercourse. I can’t remember the last time I got hard myself.” 

A sneering laugh causes you to shiver and try to squirm out from underneath Rengoku. He growls, grabbing your wrists and forcing them into the ground with such force that it feels like they’ll shatter. 

“I’m so sorry!” He keeps his voice soft, and when he speaks, he sounds like he’s ready to cry. “I’m so sorry. You need to get away from me.” He tightens his grip on your wrists, causing you to cry out. “You need to run!” 

“I can’t! You’re going to break my wrists Rengoku! Let go of me!” 

“Breathe! Use your legs! Please, hurry!”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, worming your legs up underneath his torso to try to kick him off. His expression twists, and he lets go of one of your wrists, forcing your legs apart, slotting his body between them. Tears spark in your vision, and you push at his shoulder with your free hand, trying to force him off of you. 

“You won’t be able to get him off of you,” The demon says gleefully. Rengoku turns his head, breathing heavily. 

“Shut up! I won’t hurt h-” He growls, his pupils dilating even more when he’s injected again. “I’m so sorry.” 

He sounds so heartbroken, his voice completely contrasting the roughness of his movements. He pins your wrists above your head with one hand, ripping away your uniform pants with the other, his strength seemingly doubled. Your breath catches in your throat as tears fill your eyes, and when his hand cups your heat, bile rises in your throat. 

“NO! Please, Please fight it! Fight it Kyojuro!” 

His expression looks pained, and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, the hand on your core twitching. 

“I’m trying. I’m trying, dear one,” He murmurs softly. You sob, trying in vain to squirm away from him. “Remember how you were trained. The weak spot in a grip. I can’t let go. I can’t control my body anymore. Give it everything you’ve got. Get away from me.” 

You bawl, using every ounce of strength in you to twist your arms out of his grasp. 

“My, his resolve is quite strong,” The demon hums, then cackles. “Alright then! I’m sure this next one will do it!” 

Rengoku is hit twice more with the thin needles that shoot from the demon’s hands, and he grips your wrists so hard they snap, and you scream out in pain. Apologies flood out of Rengoku’s mouth, but regardless, he leans down and slots his mouth against yours, muffling your cries of pain. The hand against your pussy pulls away, only to return as he slides his fingers up your folds and toys with your clit. The groan that leaves his throat makes you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in horror. You can faintly hear the demon saying something, but you aren’t sure what it is in your rising hysteria. 

He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes also shut tight. One of his fingers pushes inside, and you tilt your hips downward, trying to get away to no avail. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he works you open, almost intimately if it weren’t for the situation itself. 

“Kyojuro, I’m b-begging you,” Your voice catches, your face wet with tears. “Please, please stop,” 

He doesn’t respond, pulling his fingers out of you with a slick sound. Your chest is heaving with sobs now, and you open your eyes to find him languidly lapping at his fingers. He meets your eyes and opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but a twinge of sadness crosses his features, and he presses his forehead against yours again, his eyes closed. You can feel him undo his belt and work his pants off, and whimper helplessly when you feel the hot head of his cock brush against your entrance. 

He pushes in slowly, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. He hesitates for only a moment, dragging himself out and thrusting back in. The pace he sets is brutal, and you can do nothing but bawl and squirm as it happens. The only thing that leaves his mouth now are grunts that get louder the faster he goes and heavy breaths that fall hot against your face. He leans down and kisses you again, taking advantage of the noise of surprise you make to slot his tongue into your mouth. You gag, disgusted and horrified, trying to turn your face away. He allows you, trailing kisses along your cheek and up into your hair, his free hand coming up to clutch your hair and pull you closer. 

He thrusts in at a particular angle, and an involuntary moan passes your lips. Immediately, you curse yourself. This isn’t enjoyable. This is horrible and sickening, and you would rather the demon just kill you instead of facing one more second of this humiliation. But Rengoku brushes against that spot again, and your legs spread wider to give him better access. 

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, and he rides through it, his stamina not depleting in the slightest. When he pulls back and looks at you, there are tears brimming in his blown out eyes, and his lower lip trembles. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, dear one.” He squeezes his eyes shut again. You let out a sob. His hand digs into your snapped wrists, the earth beneath you poking into your back and head. His free hand snakes into your hair, and he presses himself flush against you, his pace near bruising now. You cum again, crying out his name. 

The sky is just starting to lighten when at last, his stamina depletes. He pushes himself all the way in, grunting out something that resembles your name, and cums hard, painting your walls with his seed. Horrified, you squirm, trying to pull away and get him out. Your core aches, your legs are numb, and your wrists are broken to the point of uselessness. Your dignity’s been stolen away, and all you can do is cry when you feel him soften in you. He collapses on top of you, the hand on your wrists finally releasing them. You huff out a sob, trying to nudge him off. 

He pulls away, looking like himself again, and gets off of you as fast as possible, glaring over at the demon with newfound determination. He shrugs off his haori, placing it over your lap to cover you up, and stands, unsheathing his sword. 

“Haa, you lasted quite a long time.” The demon grins, tilting his head. Rengoku takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m surprised she’s still conscious. 

“Your biggest mistake was sticking around,” Rengoku kicks off the ground, turning in the air, and rockets towards the demon, slicing off his arms. In the next moment, the demon’s head is on the ground. 

He kneels next to you, looking concerned as he sheaths his sword. 

“Can I help you up?” 

You cry a little harder, hesitating before nodding your head. The hand that slides behind your back is gentle this time, and he hikes an arm under yours, guiding you to sit and stand. The moment he lets go, your legs buckle, and he catches you. 

“Can I carry you, or would you rather have someone else do it?” 

“There’s no one else here,” You mumble, so he hoists you into his arms, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder. 

Mercifully, you fall asleep.

#rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #kimetsu rengoku #kny x reader #hashira x reader #minors dni #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #rengoku x reader

[personasintro]

before you go | myg drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; taking a step forward, you decide it's time to act after realization that you're worth much more than your boyfriend thinks, and you deserve even more

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cheating au, mentions of sex, strong language, yoongi cries 

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2k

a/n: commissioned by the lovely @minyoongail​, who's been extremely patient with me! thank you again and I hope you enjoy this drabble!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

It happened gradually, smoothly even.

Although, you’re not sure if the word ‘smooth’ is the right one to describe it. It happened slowly and gradually, that you barely noticed it but now that you look at all the clues and details, it makes a perfect sense and you come to think; how stupid were you? You should’ve seen it sooner. You should’ve focus on those details more. And most importantly, you should’ve never trust him the way you did.

Cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. But there was still a time when you ignored it, purposely tried to be blind about it and pretended that it never happened. But it broke you even more. How can it not?

It started with the lack of his presence. The usual excuse; the work got busy and they needed me. Funny how the word ‘they’ should’ve been in a singular form rather than plural. And at first, you believed that. Why couldn’t he be busy? Being an idol practically screams busy and unavailable but even then, you as a couple managed to get through that. You respected his profession just like he did yours, there was no reason to compare your two different professions. You were proud of him, fuck, you still are. Despite of what happened, you’re still proud of him for working so hard to the point the whole word knows who he is and they praise him for his incredible ability to comfort people with his music and lyrics.

It didn’t come weird to you when he started to stay nights somewhere else, rather than by your side and in his luxurious apartment placed in one of the newest buildings in Seoul, with a perfect view of Han River and center of Seoul. When he asked you to move in, you knew there’d be times when he would be just too busy but you also knew, it’d be a great opportunity to be closer to him. And a next step in your two year relationship. So naturally, you thought he’s just spending the nights in his studio and in the company. Oh, how wrong you were.

Then secret calls and messages happened.

Yoongi has always been a quiet man who liked his privacy, but not to the extent of changing his password and holding his phone for a dear life. It’s not like you went and snooped around in his phone, trying to find something suspicious or something like that. It happened randomly when you saw him unlocking it with a different password, when he laid on the sofa next to you. His Touch ID was broken and it was dark for his Face ID to work. If those two things didn’t happen, you’d never know or maybe you’d find out eventually. Regardless of that, maybe it was the universe giving you a first sign.

Yoongi always used to go to another room whenever someone called him, it was just his pet peeve. He wanted to go somewhere quiet where he could discuss an important business. But after he started to close a door and you couldn’t hear his muffled voice, so all you heard was a complete silence or whispered words, it started to become weird.

Third thing that caught your attention was the lack of intimacy in your relationship. Sure, Yoongi’s a busy man with a hectic schedule and life, but he used to find the time to appreciate you in more ways than possible. Even if it was just a quick sex to get a relief, and he drifted to sleep right away, he still whispered soft I love you’s into your ear. When days became weeks and weeks became months without him even touching you, you knew something’s wrong. He can be busy, but he’s still a man with needs like you’re woman with the same ones. You don’t have to mention dates, because those didn’t happen as well. And when Yoongi came home with a weird purplish mark on his chest, which you randomly saw because he started to shower alone and wouldn’t ask you to join him like he used to, you knew he’s getting his relief somewhere else.

It hurt. Maybe you have it all wrong, maybe it’s not how it seems. You desperately tried to persuade yourself, but things never got better and they just got even worse. So, you buried yourself into the work and distanced yourself just like he did but still, none of you voiced out the problem even though you both knew something’s wrong. Your relationship stopped having a future. But why can’t he just end it?

Why does he keep sneaking behind your back? He even started to be lazy with precautions, and left his phone on his nightstand one evening.

‘see you tomorrow, can’t wait x’, said the text.

The woman’s name almost burned your eyes but no, it was your tears that did.

And that’s how you’ve spent your nights, crying into your pillow and the person who was behind your crying was nowhere to be seen, and all you’ve had left was his empty side of bed. Where there were no tears left to cry, anger replaced the sadness and hurt. You were angry, but still holding yourself in your boyfriend’s presence. It wasn’t hard, he was barely present in your own presence. He made it easy.

But even anger didn’t last that long and you slowly became numb. Numb to the pain, to the anger and any other emotion. That’s what he’s done to you and he should’ve seen it coming.

Just like when he opens the front door, completely tired and worn out, met with the sight of two big suitcases. He knows they belong to you, his own are plain black but that’s not why he recognizes it at first. It’s because those are the same ones he helped you with when you moved in. Dropping his keys onto the small cupboard, he walks deeper into the huge apartment to find it just in the exact state. However, what’s different is you walking out of the bedroom with a bag in your arms, along with your phone. You don’t notice him, you’re too busy trying to check if you’ve packed everything and there’s nothing left of you. You don’t plan on coming back and if there’s something you accidentally forgot, you don’t want it. You’d rather lose that thing than to come here again and be reminded of the biggest heartbreak you’ve ever experienced.

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump at the deep and velvety voice, eyes widened at the sight of what used to be your boyfriend in front of you. He eyes your bag, a silent question decorating his features.

“Leaving,” you answer nonchalantly, almost scoffing at him. How the fuck does it look like? You surely aren’t going on a holiday.

“Why?” he asks, his voice suddenly getting more cautious and louder when he sees your distance, especially when you walk past him.

His footsteps are heard behind you, and you wish he’d just ignore you like he’s been doing for the past couple of months.

“We both know why,” you mutter, rolling your eyes before you stop at the picture frame that’s sitting on the dresser. It’s the picture of you and him, taken sometime when you started dating. It’s your picture and you’re the one who brought it when you moved in, it’s been decorating Yoongi’s apartment ever since.

That’s the one thing you’re willing to purposely leave behind, you don’t want that.

Feeling his eyes burning at the side of your face, he’s got the perfect view of it being expressionless before you walk past the picture like it means nothing. Because it does. It used to be one of the most precious things you've ever owned. It was decorating your home, a sweet reminder of your boyfriend whom you loved very much at that time. You missed him every minute but whenever you looked at that picture, it brought a warm feeling to your heart. It made all those moments when you finally were by his side, able to kiss him, even more precious. Now, that picture brings nothing but emptiness and irritant feeling instead. And it's only one person's fault and that person is standing just a few meters away from you with the most heartbreaking eyes. As if you're the one who broke him first.

“Come on, we can talk about this. Please, just let’s sit down and talk about this.”

The desperation that raises up in his tone is quite surprising to you, but you don’t react. Just when you’re standing in front of your suitcases, you glance at him. He stares at you with a hopeful gaze, but you just shake your head.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask him.

It’s that unbothered tone and expression that makes him panic. Why are you so calm? He knew this day will come, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“We both know this is not working out.” you tell him calmly.

“Baby,” he tries, causing the corner of your mouth to quirk up but it’s only for a second. It’s sarcastic that he remembered to call you that just now, when he barely called you anything in months. “Please.”

“Why don’t you go back to whoever you’ve been fucking behind my back?” you ask him, raising a brow at him.

He opens his mouth, a horrific expression decorating his pale face acting like it’s not obvious. At first it wasn’t, you were too blind at the beginning and then too stubborn to admit something your mind was telling you.

“Let me—“

“What? Explain? No, thanks. I’m done, Yoongi.” you tell him, turning around to grab your suitcases and just go.

When his hand grasps your wrist to keep you in place, your eyes snap to him ready to cuss him out but you’re speechless when you see the tears forming in his eyes.

“Please,” he begs, tears streaming down his cheeks. There were times when you’d cry at the sight, doing your best to comfort him but not now. Those times are gone.

Slowly, you pull your hand from his grip, ignoring his hurt face and how it scrunches both in pain and desperation.

Why is he suddenly acting so hurt over you leaving? 

“You should’ve seen it coming,” you tell him coldly, “Fucking someone behind my back— it was just a matter of time before I’d found out and I did. Long time ago but I’m done.”

Turning around, you take your suitcases and reach towards the knob to finally escape the suffocating air thanks to Yoongi. You don’t cry, you can’t and you don’t want you. You’ve already cried enough because of this man that proved to be someone that never deserved your tears. You’re numb to this.

“Before you go,” he speaks up, voice raising in panic when you’re about to open the door. “Is there something I can do to make this better?”

The regret in his voice is audible, but you don’t react to it at all. You see it written all over his face, he realized what he’s done and now that he sees you leaving from his apartment and life, there’s nothing but sorrow and pain screaming from him.

“Before I go?” you chuckle bitterly, “You went first, you went away first as soon as you decided to have sex with someone else.”

And that’s the final straw, he doesn’t deserve a second of your time and an ounce of your attention. Ending it with that, not answering him purposely because there’s nothing that could make this situation better, you take all of your stuff and leave out of his luxurious apartment. Before you fully walk away from him, you grab your keys — the ones he gave you before you even moved in — and you toss it on the floor. It lands right in front of his feet, tears streaming down his face as he looks at the keys. It still has the keychain he gave you.

The last thing he hears is the gentle thud of you closing the door, but to his ears it's the loudest sound he has heard. Along with his cracking heart but it just proves to be even louder.

#networkbangtan #bts angst #bts au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi drabbles #yoongi angst #bts smut #yoongi scenario #suga drabble #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #yoongi smut #personasintro

[sylvies-chen]

Can you do 64 or 67 for brettsey please?

Prompt 64 can be found here!!

67. “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Matt should have seen this coming.

His mom's not exactly young. He doesn't know where she's been or how she's been doing these past few years, frankly. He's had no record of whether she's been staying healthy-- through no fault of his own, seeing as how his mom's always been less than reliable since getting out of prison. Hell, even before getting arrested she'd been letting him and Christie down in smaller ways.

So when he gets the call that Nancy Casey has passed away from a heart attack at the ripe age of 68, he thinks it's just one more way in which his mother has let him down; one more member of the Casey family carrying their overwhelming amount of secrets to the grave.

He should feel sad, he knows that, but all he feels is numbness and a slight annoyance at having to deal with the funeral and all her belongings.

Her belongings aren't actually all that numerous, he realizes soon enough, which he assumes is a perk of being so flakey. All he gets is a box of things. He doesn't know what things, exactly. He'd gone to her place, shoved everything he could find into a cardboard box without paying attention to any of it, and left before he had the change to boil over with rage at all the things she'd kept from him and Christie-- the apartment included.

He should book time off or something. Or maybe visit her grave. He hasn't been there since the funeral a week ago (at which he, Sylvie, and Christie had pretty much been the sole attendants), maybe it'd do him some good in theory. But right now, every normal way of grieving flies out the door for him. He feels himself reverting back to the Casey family tradition: internalizing your feelings and keeping them secret until the day you die. Literally. It's not fun, not pleasant, and certainly not healthy. But in some weird way, it feels like his own way of honouring his mother, so he doesn't fight it. He should, but he doesn't.

Until Sylvie notices, and manages to tear down his walls in one fowl, beautifully agonizing swoop.

She picks up on it pretty quickly. He drifts off a lot during shift, he looks even more serious than usual, and he refuses to talk about it all that much whenever she asks how he's feeling-- which isn't for lack of trying, but how the hell can he put every complex little emotion he's feeling into words? Doing that will take time.

She's over to the loft one night, petting gently at his hair with her legs sprawled across his lap as they mindlessly watch TV, when she notices the box of his mom's things collecting dust by the by the basketball machine. Stella and Severide are out and Sylvie knows he's not paying attention to what's on anyway, so she turns the TV off. It manages to get his attention and he looks to her, confused.

Her attention isn't on him though, only on the box. Its flaps are taped shut at the top, his mom's name in black sharpie fading slowly. "You still haven't opened the box of your mom’s stuff?"

"No," he admits.

“Matt…” she sighs, taking her legs off his lap to sit upright on the couch. “You’ve been retreating into yourself ever since your mom passed away. Please don’t shut me out. I’m here, you know that, right?”

“I do. But Sylvie, I’m fine,” he insists. “My mom knew exactly what she wanted in life once she got out of prison and I wasn’t exaclty a part of that. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, I probably don’t know half of what’s in that box anyway. She hid her new life from me and Christie. She’s just next in a long line of people in my family who’ve taken their secrets to the grave, that’s all.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Her tone is sympathetic but has a slight edge to it. She wants him to open up, he knows that. That’s, along with the surprising frustration in her eye, is enough to make Matt want to. So he tries.

“I want to,” he assures her. “But there’s nothing to say. She was gone before, and she’s gone now. It’s just more permanent now.”

“But don’t you think opening that box will give you some— I don’t know… closure?”

“I know it probably will, but I've been busy with contracting work and the firehouse has been busy and... I don't know, it just slipped my mind."

She gives him a look as if to say she doesn't buy it for a second, only it turns quickly into a look of sympathy. Because it always does. Sylvie, through thick and thin, good and bad, just always understands him. That goes both ways, which makes it even better, but it also means he knows exactly what she's thinking right now.

"What's keeping you from doing it now then?"

"Now?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his arm stretching out against the back edge of the couch and rubbing at her far shoulder. "Well for one, I'm having a relaxing night with you, and I'd rather not ruin that with memories of my less than reliable mother. And second, I just... I'm...."

Matt finds himself choking on his words, unable to admit to himself the one word he's looking for. He doesn’t know where this sudden seriousness comes from, this abrupt inability to keep things in. It’s like an old habit, and normally those die hard. Except Sylvie’s lifting a gentle hand to caress his face, is giving him that warm and comforting look, and he knows exactly why it’s hard.

It’s hard because it’s her. It’s Sylvie, and trying to internalize things around her at this point is pointless— even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t want to. He’s stripped of all his walls when he’s around her and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Scared?” She finishes his sentence for him, giving him an expectant look.

He nods, because yes. Matt Casey, a firefighter who’s faced blazing fires and near-death experiences, is scared of opening a tiny little box. It takes a lot for him to admit that but he’s with her, which makes it ten times easier. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I know it sounds silly, but I can’t bring myself to look at all the things from her life that she left me and Christie out of. I’m scared I’ll look in there and realize just how much of a stranger she was to me— and of how much I miss her anyway.”

Sylvie exhales quietly, eyeing him achingly for a moment while she gnaws at her lip the way she only does when she’s thinking hard. Then, she gives his knee a comforting squeeze before standing up. He shifts on the couch, elbows moving to his knees as he scrunches his brow in a pensive and painful train of thought of his own. He thinks Sylvie is just getting a glass of water or a tissue or something else, honestly. But when he looks up from his brooding, he sees her over by the basketball machine, picking up the box and bringing it over.

“Here,” she says, placing it on the table in front of them and sitting back down in her spot next to him. Their legs press together, leaving no space between them on the couch.

“No,” he shakes his head as he responds. “No, I can’t do it.”

“You can,” Sylvie assures him. “We can do it. Together. You don’t have to go through any of this alone, Matt. So if you have to sit here for a minute before opening it, or ten minutes, or an hour even, then you can do that. I’ll be here the entire time.”

Her eyes twinkle kindly at him and Matt swears, in that moment, that he’s the luckiest man alive. Something about everything she just told him strikes him harder than usual, acting as a sharp and wonderful reminder that they’re meant for each other.

“I am so in love with you,” he utters softly.

Sylvie lets out a quiet giggle, moving to hold his hand and lace their fingers together. “I love you too.”

She presses a tender kiss to his cheek as he sucks in a sharp breath, his attention now turning to the box in front of them. The box looks back at him, almost as if challenging him. Only now, miraculously, it seems more manageable to him. It’s still scary, still carries a lot of emotional weight for Matt. But he feels Sylvie’s hand in his and it gives him the strength to do this.

He lets go of Sylvie’s hand for a moment to tear the flaps of the box open. His hand finds hers again as soon as its done, relying on her for more strength as he moves to peer inside the box.

His heart stops.

With his spare hand, he pulls out the first thing in the box, at the very top— the very thing that made his heart stop. Nothing else in the box matters now, he thinks. Because sitting there, in the palm of his hand, is a picture of him, Christie, and his mom. Nancy Casey sits in the center of the picture, with Matt and Christie at her sides. He remembers the day well; it was his fourteenth birthday, after all. There’s a cake in front of them in the picture to prove it. Matt doesn’t ever remember looking and feeling so young. Admittedly, he doesn’t remember being that happy around his family either. Normally, birthdays were sort of a mess for him, a constant struggle of battling with his father over how they should celebrate it that alwaus left Matt grumpy and hurt. But in the picture, his mom’s hand is tickling his side, as well as Christie’s, and the moment captures the exact moment that he and Christie reflexively lean into her chest from the laughter. His mom’s smile is bright and wide— something he rarely saw around his household.

They were happy once. They were a family, no matter how messed up everything got between them. Maybe Nancy Casey wasn’t such a stranger to him after all. That fact alone sends those million complicated little emotions swirling around in his chest.

Only this time, he doesn’t bury them. This time, they all come pouring out at once and the dam breaks. He doesn’t know when the tears started, but they flow now with a painful ease.

Sylvie lets go of his hand and pulls him in, holding onto him tight and close as his head rests on her chest. He feels tears of her own drip on the back of his head as she strokes his hair gently. He so rarely cries like this and yet now that he’s started— now that he has someone like Sylvie who lets him be vulnerable— he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.

Only she tightens his grip on him, whispers soothing hushes and gentle reassurances that everything will be okay, and he knows that he’ll stop soon enough.

#y’all enough with the angsty hurt/comfort prompts PLEASEE my emotions can’t take it lol 😭 #fanfic prompts #abby writes #prompt requests #abby.answers #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey

[ukai-simp-services]

because i love you

prompt: tainted hues: “if you loved them, why did you break their heart?”

@tooruluv | #tooruluv2kparty

oikawa x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, poor mental health, depression, heartbreak, small panic attack, alcoholism.

a/n: why am i so sad after writing this,, i think this is my first time writing angst with no fluff T^T

  somewhere in argentina, there is a large penthouse with tall windows and cornered with perfectly trimmed green hedges. the interior of the penthouse is simple, there are no memories cluttering the walls, there are no fairy lights adorning the windows, there are no bento boxes in the fridge, and there are no sweet scented candles in every room of the house.

  there is only dull colored furniture, only overflowing laundry baskets, only a kitchen sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes, and only empty liquor bottles littering the dining table. 

  a home without you, is hardly a home.

  in this penthouse, a young man, barely 25 years old, sits at the kitchen table with a glass of fernet in his hand. one large window is opened, letting the warm evening breeze rustle the thin kitchen curtains and brush over his exposed skin. 

  oikawa still couldn’t stop thinking about what iwaizumi had asked him two years ago. 

  no amount of mind numbing liquor could ever make him forget that interaction -inevitably, the last face-to-face interaction he ever had with his best friend. 

  “oikawa, if you loved her, then why would you break her heart?”

   oikawa gasps to himself, suddenly feeling chills run up his back, as if the memory happened just yesterday.

  he remembers vividly how furious iwaizumi’s voice was and the tired look in his best friend’s eyes - a look that all but told oikawa that he was exhausted picking up the shattered pieces that he always left behind.

  he downs the glass of fernet.

  he pours himself another.

  he remembers that, that was the first time he had nothing to say - the first time that tōru oikawa was at a loss for words. because men like oikawa, men with quick rebuttals and prepared excuses, always knew exactly what to say in every situation. 

  that day, iwaizumi had walked away from oikawa with sadness in his eyes, no trace of hostility to be found anymore. there was no slap to the back of oikawa’s head, no ear piercing screaming of a lecture, and no insults thrown at him. there was nothing.

  but oikawa would’ve preferred a slap to the head or some sort of beating.

  a gentle ache presents itself in oikawa’s throat, threatening a small cry to stumble out.

  oikawa washes it away with a swig to his drink.

  iwaizumi is a faint presence in oikawa’s life now, he calls and texts - the occasional check up - but he had stopped being his best friend a long time ago. 

  losing a brother pains him; it burns from the depths of his core, but losing you practically kills him; it steals every bit of oxygen from his lungs. 

  because, ultimately, you were his reason for living - for breathing; your warmth, your comfort, your presence is what kept oikawa going every day. without you, his days are meaningless, he inevitably lives his life without purpose. 

  but, now he finds it ironic; he chose volleyball over you, his life.

  everyday, from 9am to 7pm, he mindlessly serves, sets, and passes a volleyball. for hours on end, he feels his muscles contract and relax as he tosses the ball up high, just for him to smack it down against a cold and shiny gym floor, he watches at it ricochets back into the air just to fall back down onto the ground again. bounce bounce bounce, till the sound ceases and the ball rests in its place.  

  oikawa now wonders when a blinding passion - a heart pounding desire to play this sport, turned into just a distraction. he finds that now when the very familiar surface of the volleyball brushes up against his palm, he no longer feels his adrenaline pumping with excitement; he feels resent.

  because trying to dissipate his memories of you by overworking his body everyday no longer worked anymore, if anything it only made things worse. 

  every game, every screech of his name from the crowd, every praising cheer after he makes an award winning serve, it all reminds him that you aren’t in the stands cheering him on. faces upon faces, all different colors and all different shapes, none of them are yours. 

  oikawa hisses as he feels a dull ache in his knee, the same knee you would spend hours massaging after practice every day.

  the lump in his throat has become more apparent now, he drowns it out with the bitter liquid in his cup - trying to suppress the feelings that will always be there. 

  he is only 25, yet he can feel his body beginning to give up on him. his muscles are weaker than they were two years ago, his bones throb under his weight with every step he takes, and his mind is continuously drifting off into oblivion. 

  he wonders who he is living for at this point. he can’t lie to himself and say that volleyball is his reason, because then who is he playing it for?

  this country; even with its busy streets and loud music - he still can’t help but feel alone. 

  his favorite memory of you plays in his mind like a film, it’s grainy and colored with a brown, faded hue. your hair whipping in the wind, your dress flowing over your hips, your feet sinking into the sand, your hand intertwined with his, and your mouth open with that melody of a laugh spilling out of it. 

  he remembers your skin felt soft, flawless against his calloused palm. shimmering silver earrings decorated your ears, a gift he had gotten you for your birthday. the air around you was warm, despite the unforgiving ocean winds that was tussling through your hair and clothes. 

  as the memory plays, your laugh begins to fade away in the wind, the already loud noise getting increasingly louder and louder. his ears are ringing now, he can’t hear your laugh anymore. the sky is no longer a heavenly blue, it is now an unsettling gray. your body, your hand holding his, the scenery of the beach, is being ripped from his mind and transforming into a different memory, one he would kill to forget. 

  there you were, eyes big and brimming with tears, standing in front of him. the beach background has now turned into your shared apartment in japan, both of you in the living room. you open your mouth, but oikawa can’t hear your voice - he remembers your words vividly, but his mind refuses to play them. 

  tears spilling down your cheeks, your hands balled into fists; oikawa watches as he breaks down the one person who he deemed to be unbreakable. everything he had built - everything you had built, he watches fall apart for the hundredth time. 

  a sharp pain shoots through his chest, snapping him back to reality.

  he clutches at the fabric of his t-shirt, heaving breaths fall from his lips as he tries to compose himself. 

  the cup full of fernet falls to the floor, pieces of his heart are scattered on the floor alongside the broken glass. 

  oikawa lost meaning in his life the second he walked out the door that shameful day; he lost his motivation, his strive.

  everyday, his body aches with loss. the sounds of cars racing down the busy streets, the loud music playing from his favorite coffee shop, the smacking of countless volleyballs being slammed down onto gym floors, and the lively chattering coming from some rom-com that he left playing on his flat screen tv, all sound like background noise to him - numbly playing in his ears as background music to the memories he constantly has playing in his mind. 

  oikawa never knew about loss or pain until you, never imagined that this is what it would feel like. 

  but, loss has made him wiser; he knows now what will lie ahead for the both of you. he knows that as years come and go, the pain will begin to diminish a little, bit by bit - but he also knows that there’s no way that it’ll ever fully leave his heart. 

  because, as he gets older, he’ll only get more tired. his skin will begin to wrinkle, hair will start to gray, his bones will ache from weight of the world, his lungs will begin collapsing from the pressure constantly on his chest, and his heart will eventually cease to beat, from the death grip you still have on it. 

  he will age unforgivingly, eyes devoid of any color - they have already lost the once charming glint they used to hold. 

  unlike him, he knows you’ll only burn brighter as the upcoming years pass you by. 

  you’ll get back on your feet, your skin will glow again, your muscles will strengthen and your heart will beat with a newfound passion to love yourself - that’s something he’s always admired about you, the passion you held for all things involving love.

  you’ll age with an unstoppable beauty; you’ll laugh and smile so much that permanent crinkles will form next to your eyes, you’ll dance so much that your muscles grow tired, you’ll fall in love again and have all those kids you wanted - kids that will fill every single gap in your heart that oikawa left behind. 

  despite pure science and human biology, your youth will never leave you. you’re one of the few people oikawa has met that have the ability to live young forever. your soul is unbreakable. sure, oikawa may have put a mere scratch on it, but he never came close to cracking it. 

  and that’s the difference between you and him; he will die miserable and alone, heart poorly stitched together and the inside of his body bruised and weak. you will pass away surrounded by people who also - like him - became allured by your kind spirit and your lively energy. his body will fall weak from exhaustion, but yours will fall weak from years of dancing and laughing and singing. his heart will die battered with pain, your heart will die full of love and forgiveness. 

  it’s painful to think about, but oikawa knows this is the truth, and simply just how life works. he won’t sugarcoat it for himself, he knows his ending is exactly what he deserves. 

  so he begins writing a note. the bottle of fernet he was previously so dependent on, is now long forgotten. he holds a shiny black pen in his hand and a white slip of paper in his other. he clicks the pen and holds the tip above the blank page for a few beats; hesitating, before he’s letting the words flow out. 

  it starts, with an answer to a question.

  “i broke her heart, because i love her.”

#laughs nervously #tooruluv2kparty #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq angst #oikawa tooru #hq #oikawa toru #oikawa toru headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #oikawa angst #tooru oikawa angst #haikyuu smau #haikyuu angst

[vibrant-leaf]

Therapy is Manly

Part one.

🧡 ~KiriBaku Fic~ ❤️

Summary and Important Note⚠️: Bakugou is more self-aware and Kirishima is a bit more insecure. Part one is kinda painful, not gonna lie, but part two is happy and will make up for it! Link to part two will be at the bottom.

Word Count: 4090

Warnings: Cursing, angst

Additional note: I have been working on this for a stupid amount of time and have come to the point where I just need to trust myself and post it LMAO. They're going to be a little ooc but that's okay because this is my take on if Bakugou was more self-aware and if Kirishima was more insecure. Part two will have a song linked at the end of it. I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking useless!” As soon as it comes out of Bakugou’s mouth, he instantly regrets it. He wants to take it back. He wants to travel back in time to just five seconds ago so he can punch himself in the face before he’s able to say that again. But he said it. And the way Kirishima’s face falls makes his stomach drop down to his knees.

When Kirishima hears those words come out of his boyfriend’s mouth, it feels as if someone stabbed him in the chest. It’s crazy… how two words coming from the love of your life can hurt so much.

“Eijirou, no. No. I’m- I-“ Bakugou doesn’t say sorry. He just doesn’t. But the look on Kirishima’s face, the look of absolute pain and betrayal, rips it out of him because he knows he horrendously fucked up “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it okay?” Bakugou knows about Kirishima’s previous struggles with his self-confidence, and he can’t help but feel like he just ripped the boy’s heart out of his chest and stomped on it with those two awful words.

Bakugou tries to grab his boyfriend’s hand, but Kirishima shakes his head and backs away before he can touch him. He’s gotten used to Bakugou’s anger, mostly. But sometimes, and more recently for some reason, his words have been hurting him. He’s tried his best to shake it off because he knows that Bakugou doesn’t really mean it and he loves him… right? But this. This gutted him. His self-deprecating thoughts are on the brink of exploding in his head. Useless. Kirishima is indeed useless, isn’t he?

“You’re not useless, Eijirou. Fuck. I don’t know why I said that. I’m fucking sorry, okay?” Bakugou is begging him. He’s not exactly begging for forgiveness because he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he’s begging for Kirishima to understand that those were empty words that he didn’t mean and that Kirishima is nowhere near useless. Alright, he might also be begging for a little forgiveness because he can’t help it, even though he truly understands he does not deserve an ounce of it.

Kirishima looks down at the floor, takes a shaky breath through his nose, turns around, and leaves Bakugou’s room.

Bakugou’s hands fly to his head. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” What the fuck is wrong with him?! Why does he keep doing this to him?! He keeps snapping at him and Kirishima just takes it. That’s how it’s always been with them, even if it didn’t use to be this bad. Bakugou yells, throws insults and names, and gets away with it every single time. Sure, Kirishima will call him an idiot from time to time or ask for an apology when absolutely necessary, but he’s never said anything else about his rage. Maybe… maybe Bakugou has been taking advantage of that. Bakugou knows there won’t be any serious repercussions, so this lets him take his frustrations out on him. He doesn’t deserve that.

Kirishima gently closes his bedroom door behind him and stands still in the middle of his room. His chest still hurts, and tears quickly start to form in his eyes until his vision is completely distorted, which is fitting because his brain is also being distorted beyond belief. “Fucking useless… You’re not useless, Eijirou.” The words start to play on a loop in his head.

The tears finally cascade down his face as he mumbles to himself, “I’m not. It’s okay. I’m not useless. He said I’m not, so it’s okay. Just forgive him, he didn’t mean it.” After all the other times Bakugou has snapped at him, he’s learned to simply shake his head and force himself to not sweat it. However, he suddenly realizes… he’s been forcing himself to become numb to it. But it’s okay! He loves Bakugou, that’s just how he is, he usually doesn’t mean the insulting words that come out of his mouth, and Kirishima doesn’t want to lose him, so he needs to force himself to be okay.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Bakugou is trying to come to terms with the decision he knows he must make, for the sake of Kirishima’s wellbeing.

Later in the evening, when the class has gathered for dinner, they notice something off between Bakugou and Kirishima. They aren’t attached by the hip, they aren’t even making eye contact, Bakugou looks like he’s about to puke, and Kirishima just looks sad. Sero, Ashido, and Kaminari look at each other, all of them worried about their two beloved friends.

Ashido speaks up first. “You guys know what’s going on?” The boys shake their heads and Ashido’s shoulders, along with her spirits, fall. “I hope they’re alright…”

Kaminari suddenly remembers something. “Uh... did they sign the lease on that apartment they found like a couple of weeks ago?” Sure, they were only dating for almost a year now, after a long year of painful mutual pining, but they always looked so sure, so confident in each other and their relationship, that moving in together after graduation seemed like a no-brainer.

“I don’t know. They haven’t said anything else about it. But this is probably just a little fight. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Sero tries reassuring his friends as well as himself.

It’s around one in the morning and neither of the boys can fall asleep. Kirishima just wants Bakugou to come into his room and hopefully apologize again, that way he can forgive him, and they can rest in each other’s arms and let everything be okay in the morning.

Bakugou is lying wide awake in his bed, and he’s scared. His heart is racing, and he still feels like he’s going to throw up the few bites of dinner that he managed to get down hours earlier. He’s so fucking scared, he doesn’t want to do this, but he knows he has to… Kirishima deserves better than how he’s been treating him- like a willing punching bag for his cruel, verbal outbursts. God, he is such an asshole. Has he really been like this the whole time they knew each other?

Kirishima finally hears the long-awaited knock on his door but doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t usually need to. “Hey… can we talk?” asks a deep, muffled voice behind his door. He’s a little confused by the fact his boyfriend doesn’t just walk in but whatever.

“Yeah?” Kirishima calls out.

Bakugou swiftly opens the door, walks in, and sees his best friend of almost three years now, sitting up in his bed looking at him wearingly. He can see it. He can see just how mentally drained Bakugou has made him, and it further proves his point that he’s doing this for that beautiful boy’s own good. That human incarnate of sunshine deserves to be happy. He deserves so much better than what Bakugou has given him. So, he swears to himself that he’ll get better. It’ll probably take some time but that doesn’t matter. Hopefully, they’ll be better off afterward… as long as Kirishima will graciously take him back in the future. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t though.

Bakugou walks over to the corner of Kirishima’s bed and sits. When he runs a sweaty hand through his hair, he notices that he’s shaking. God, he does not want to do this. Every fiber of his being wants to just curl up in Kirishima’s arms. But he can’t. “I…”

“I’m sorry,” are the words Kirishima expects to hear out of Bakugou’s mouth, but what is actually spoken renders him immobile.

“I think we need to break up.” Bakugou feels like he is definitely going to throw up. Not now, he’ll hold back for now, but later for sure.

The blood instantly drains from Kirishima’s body, and he is left feeling cold. “What?” His voice is only a broken whisper.

Bakugou bites the inside of his cheek to keep the tears that are forming in his eyes at bay. “We need to break up. I keep hurting you. And it needs to stop.” His voice is shaky, and he feels so fucking horrible. He knows he’s hurting the love of his fucking life yet again while saying this, but it has to be done.

“What? No! No. It’s okay, I forgive you, Katsuki. I know you didn’t mean it. I know I’m not useless, I promise. I forgive you, it’s okay. We’ll be okay.” Why does he feel so cold? He’s shaking now too. His eyes and throat are burning. Holy shit he feels so scared. No no no. He can’t lose him.

“But it’s not okay! This is not okay! The way I’m treating you is not okay! I keep hurting you and I need to stop! I need to figure out how to fucking calm down!” Bakugou feels like a sledgehammer is being struck against his damn ribs.

Kirishima speaks through a waterfall of tears, “Okay, you can do that! But we don’t have to break up! Please, Katsuki. I love you.” He grabs Bakugou’s hands and holds them. “We can get through this together, okay? I don’t want to lose you.” Bakugou only glances down at the alarmingly cold hands holding his hot and clammy ones. And at that, hearing Kirishima’s pleading words, feeling his hands hold his for probably the last time in what’s going to be a while, or possibly forever, he releases the barrier that’s been holding his tears back and lets them fall down his face. He shakes his head.

“No. I’m gonna keep fucking up. And you can’t keep taking it like it doesn’t affect you because I know it does. I can see it on your face, I know I’ve been exhausting you. You don’t deserve that. I need to be alone while I.. fix myself. I need to change something, I don’t know. I just-“ Bakugou takes a shaky deep breath. “I just need to be better. And… When I am better, then we can try again. I just can’t keep hurting you like how I have been.”

“You’re hurting me now.”

Bakugou knows this. God, he knows this, and he hates himself for it. “I’m sorry. We can try again in the future. Because I want to be with you, Eijirou. I love you so fucking much. But you deserve better, and I want to be better for you. It’s just… gonna take me some time.”

Something in Kirishima’s brain clicks and he doesn’t like some of what Bakugou has said. “It’s not fair of you to expect me to just wait around and be readily available for you whenever you decide you’re better.” But honestly, who is he kidding? Bakugou is the only one he wants, the only person he wants to love like this… but maybe this wasn’t exactly healthy after all- no. Fuck being logical right now. He’s in pain and he really doesn’t feel like thinking logically.

“I know that, idiot. I don’t expect you to wait around like some dumb loyal puppy. I mean, if you’re available and willing then we can try again. Or if you… if you do find someone else who treats you better, then whatever, that’s fucking fine. You deserve that. You deserve to always be happy.”

“You make me happy, asshole.”

“Eijirou…” Bakugou’s eyes are pleading now, begging for him to just understand and let him go for now.

Kirishima finally snatches his hands away from Bakugou’s. His throat is still burning, and his eyes won’t stop spilling more and more tears. “Get out,” he chokes out.

A moment of tense silence passes them. Bakugou wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know how to respond to Kirishima telling him to leave, it feels so foreign.

“I fucking hate you. Get out.”

Bakugou bites his tongue so hard it almost bleeds. Yeah… he deserved that. He deserves any anger that Kirishima has for him right now. But damn, that hurt… must’ve been how Kirishima felt when he called him useless. He really was such a fucking asshole to him.

When Bakugou gets up to leave, Kirishima lets himself be logical for a single moment. They’re heroes… and anything can happen. He would never forgive himself if those were the last words Bakugou heard from him before something bad happened. Bakugou grabs the door handle, but Kirishima’s voice stops him. “Wait!” Bakugou turns his head to look at pained, red eyes looking down at the bed. “I… I didn’t mean that. I don’t hate you… I just hate what’s happening…” Kirishima looks up at Bakugou one more time, and even though Kirishima feels like he’s drowning in heartache, he’s able to force out one last sentence. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou wants so badly to walk back over there and crash his lips onto Kirishima’s, and he almost does. He can feel this magnetic force pulling him to the love of his life. He doesn’t want to walk away… but he ruined what they had. Maybe, just maybe, in the future, he can rest in the arms that have comforted him so many times after he woke up from nightmares, arms that feel like home, and he’ll listen to the steady heartbeat that once coaxed him to sleep after suffering through a panic attack from one of the said nightmares. But for now, “I love you, Eijirou,” Bakugou pulls away and walks out of the bedroom.

Kirishima hugs his legs up against his chest and lets the sobs rip out of his body.

Bakugou’s head falls back against the other side of Kirishima’s door and he can hear him start to cry. He never wanted to make him cry...

Bakugou wants to slide down onto the floor to cry into his hands until the whole days’ worth of food threatens to make a reappearance, so he bolts for his bathroom.

Kirishima suddenly doesn’t want to be in his room anymore. Bakugou and him have hung out so many times in there that there’s a subtle hint of his scent, but that subtle hint is currently suffocating him. He looks up from where his face was buried in his knees and of course, the first thing his eyes set on is a picture of them from when they went mountain climbing during their first year. He can’t be here. He’ll literally suffocate and die if he stays in his room that has too many traces of his boyfrie-… ex-boyfriend. His ears are ringing as he starts to mumble frantically, “I need to leave, I need to leave, I need to leave.”

Kirishima pushes himself off his bed and quickly walks out of his room. His chest is in so much pain. He scans the hallway and tries to think if anybody else would be up right now. Ashido’s a night owl, so she should be awake. Hopefully. He just really needs a hug right now.

Ashido is laying in bed, scrolling through Twitter, with her eyelids starting to droop when she hears a soft knock on her door. She’s confused but she slowly sits up to listen and figure out if someone's actually outside her door or if she's simply hearing things. But when she hears the faintest sound of sniffling, she throws the bedsheets off her and jumps out of bed. Then she walks over to her door and when she opens it… “Oh no.” Ashido’s stomach drops at the sight of her dear friend’s red, puffy-eyed, tear-stained, broken face. “Oh, honey, what happened?” She’s afraid to ask because she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pull together and his bottom lip trembles, “w-we... broke up.”

Ashido grabs his wrist and pulls him into her room. They sit down on her bed and Kirishima’s head falls onto her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him, and he hugs her back lightly. That’s when she notices the trembling. “Just let it out, Kiri. It’s okay,” she says as softly as possible as she rubs his back.

Kirishima clutches onto Ashido as hard as he can without hurting her and his eyes are shut tight as he starts to cry again. His body shakes as he lets all the pain he’s feeling rise to the surface and boil over onto his friend’s shoulder. He tries to talk but he keeps gasping in between words. “My chest- it- it hurts so fucking bad. Why- does it feel like this- it feels like someone’s- stabbing me. God- why?” One of his hands clutches his shirt over his heart.

Ashido’s petting his head now. “Shhh… I know it hurts. I’m so sorry, Kirishima. I wish I could take the pain away… Is there anything at all I can do?” She would love to beat up that blonde bastard for making him feel like this but she doesn’t know what exactly happened, so she keeps the violent thoughts at a minimum.

After another moment filled with hiccups and sniffles, Kirishima takes a deep breath. His voice is still really wobbly but at least he isn’t choking on his words now, “My room. I can’t be in there right now. Too much of him.”

Ashido nods her head. “Okay, you can sleep in here then. We can figure out your room tomorrow. But we should probably try to get some sleep since it’s so late. Okay?”

It’s Kirishima’s turn to nod. “I’ll try.” He feels exhausted but he doubts that he’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No. Absolutely not. I will sleep on the floor.”

“No.”

“Okayyy… well if you’re comfortable with it then we’ll both sleep in the bed.”

Kirishima sighs and looks up at her. “Only if you’re one hundred percent comfortable with it.”

“I am. I promise.”

Kirishima searches her eyes for any hint of unease, but he finds nothing. His eyes fall to his lap. “Alright.”

“Good.” She stands up and walks over to her mini fridge to grab a bottle of water, then offers it to him. “Recycle, or else.” He grabs the bottle from her hand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He starts chugging the cold water and it feels nice on his raw throat. Once he’s done, he twists the lid back onto the bottle, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then scoots over to the other side of the bed. They both settle under the covers and a twinge of awkwardness hangs in the air. A silent moment passes before Kirishima speaks again. “My chest still feels like it’s being crushed.”

Ashido sighs through her nose. “Come here.” She opens her arms to signal an invitation.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I know you’re a touchy person so hopefully, this’ll help a bit.”

Kirishima scoots closer to her and lays his head on her shoulder and her arms gently wrap around his neck. He lays a hesitant arm across her stomach. It’s nice. It’s not… Bakugou… but it’s still nice. His eyes start to burn, and his chest starts to heave for the millionth time in the past eight hours. He feels Ashido’s small hand begin to pet his head and her fingers run through his hair. The tears are pouring from his eyes yet again. “Please don’t do that,” he whispers.

Ashido stops immediately and rests her hand on his back instead. “My bad.”

“Sorry.”

“No no. Don’t you be sorry.”

Kirishima pauses. “He used to do that all the time.”

Ashido barely nods. “I’m sorry, hun. I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s okay...” Kirishima’s voice is weary audible as exhaustion settles into his bones. He closes his eyes to try to sleep but all he can see is blonde hair and red eyes. He sighs. “He said he needs to get better.”

Ashido’s eyebrows furrow together. “What does he mean by that?”

“His behavior, I think. He said he keeps hurting me.”

“Is he?”

“Hurting me?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Kiri.”

“…Maybe… Yeah.” It comes out quiet and almost shameful.

“Then yeah, he needs to fix that.”

Kirishima’s quick to defend Bakugou, however. “But I understand that’s just how he is. And he doesn’t mean what he says most of the time, so really, it’s fine. Sure, it hurts for a moment, but I can get over it. I don’t understand why he thinks we need to break up for now.”

“For now, huh? So, there’s hope for the future?”

“I mean he said he wants to try again someday if I want to. But I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

“Hmm… maybe this is a good opportunity for you to work on yourself too.”

“Myself? Why?”

“Honey, listen to what you’re saying. It sounds to me like you don’t even care that he’s treating you like this.”

“I do care, it’s just-“

“You don’t care enough for it to matter. You know what I mean?”

“They’re just words… If I let them get to me then it means I’m… weak. He shouldn’t have to date someone who’s weak like that.”

“Kirishima.” There’s a forceful tone behind Ashido’s voice. “You being hurt from his behavior does not make you weak. You are allowed to feel that way. Bakugou’s behavior and attitude are shitty. He can’t even chill out around his own boyfriend who he supposedly loves and that’s even more shitty. You said it yourself, he’s hurting you. And if someone realizes they’re hurting a person they love then they should try to change the way they act. You, on the other hand, need to realize you do, in fact, deserve better than being treated like his verbal doormat. You need to stand up for yourself more.”

Kirishima is quiet for a while after that, letting the words sink in and process in his brain. He realizes that Ashido’s right in saying that he doesn’t truly care when Bakugou lashes out against him. But why? Why doesn’t he care? He realizes that he should care now but why was he so willing to let Bakugou get away with his horrible attitude?

But then he finally realizes…

He’s insecure.

But he thought his insecurities only pertained to being a hero and he mostly got over that a while ago. He didn’t think he would be insecure about being in a relationship. Well, he wasn’t insecure about being with Bakugou, no way. He admires Bakugou, loves him with every fiber of his being, and he is- or was, so proud and so happy to call him his boyfriend. Bakugou is strong and he deserves to be with someone who is also strong.

Ah.

He was afraid too.

Kirishima felt like he needed to be strong around him all the time, didn’t he? Bakugou doesn’t like weakness and if Kirishima was hurt by something Bakugou said then maybe he would’ve seen Kirishima as too weak for him and leave. Bakugou already left him though. But…

“I want to be with you, Eijirou. I love you so fucking much. But you deserve better, and I want to be better for you.”

Ugh. Why is this all so confusing and frustrating? Kirishima’s head starts to throb.

“Kiri?” Ashido’s softer voice snaps him out of his train of thought.

“You’re right… I should figure out some things for myself too. I think I was scared of what he would think about me if I was always upset with him.” Kirishima releases a disheartened sigh. “So… should I talk to someone?”

“Like a therapist?”

“Yeah…”

“I think that’s a good idea. I honestly believe everyone should talk to a therapist at some point because everyone struggles with something, and it would be good to get some professional advice. So, hopefully, that’s what Bakugou will do too. Everyone knows he needs it.” She mumbles the last part and Kirishima chuckles at it.

“Have you gone to therapy?” Kirishima looks up at Ashido curiously and she nods.

“Another story for another time though. It’s late and I need to get some beauty sleep before having to wake up before you to get you some post-breakup essentials.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, ice cream.”

Kirishima gives her a forlorn smile. “Thanks, Ashido, for letting me stay here and for talking to me.”

“I know, I know. I’m pretty cool aren't I?” She grins proudly. “But you’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am.” Kirishima feels better. Not great by any means, but better. His eyes finally start to feel heavy and before his consciousness slips away, he can’t help but imagine that it’s Bakugou holding him in that moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Link to part two!

#kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #mha fanfiction #boku no academia #my hero academia #angst #angst with a happy ending #breakup #mina is a good friend

[lovee-infected]

haha, Malleus dies AU let's gooooo (imkiddingpleasedont)

:)

“Tsuonotarou”

(A/N): I cried, I've been crying all day and I'll be crying for the rest of the month.

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Gn! Reader

Warning(s): Angst, Mentions of blood, major character death

"T-tsunotarou-?" You stuttered out. Words came out of your mouth without you even feeling your mouth moving.. At this point, everything felt to bizzare to be even realistic. Your legs, your mouth. Green growing flames sorrounding you and burn all that was left from that hellish war to ashes but all you had on your sight was the wounded fae.

"Tsunotarou!" you screamed as you ran to Malleus, begging to heavens that you weren't too late.

You fall to your knees by Malleus's severely injured body. Unable to do a thing but to terrifiedly gaze at how his warmth of life was being slowly stolen by the cold embrace of death, blood rushing out of the huge wound on the left side of his chest and turning his clothes as red as bloody roses. You let out a choked scream, grabbing his almost, lifeless body by waist and pulling him to your lap. You stared at Malleus with your eyes half shut, trying your best to hold your heavy tears from falling.

There was nothing, you felt nothing. No pain, no joy, no fear. It was neither sad nor happy, you just couldn't feel anything at all. All you knew was that everything seemed unrealistic, so wrong.

No, this had to be a nightmare, this wasn't real. It couldn't be, it couldn't be, it shouldn't be.

Your body was shaking and your voice, trembling. You could see his lips being parted to say something but fail to realize what it was as your tears had totally blurred blurred vision.

Even as tears had clouded your visiton, you could see that was smiling at you, no signs of any fear or anger could be found in his mesmerizing emerald eyes. His smile was soft, just like the first time he smiled at you, you could still feel his sweet laughter being echoed through your ear from the first time he heard you call him "tsunotarou".

You could feel the pain in your chance growing wider as your memories with him are recalled to you, but you had to resist them.This wasn't the right time to cry, you must not. Malleus shouldn't see you cry, not now. You had to show him that you still had faith in him, that you still believe that he's got a chance to survive. You had to be strong in front of him but you couldn't. You couldn't be strong when the dearest person of your life was dying right in front of your eyes.

Your shaky hands took his hand and brought it to your face as you cried hysterically. Malleus was dying and you couldn't do anything but to watch! You thought he was unstoppable, practically immortal! You kept crying into his hand as your tears soaked his coated in dirt and blood hand. "You said I won't need to worry! You promised that you'll be fine! You p-promised-!!" you cried to the air.

Malleus wished he could've opened his mouth and say those words again, to confront you, to tell you those lies over and over and try to make you believe everything is going to be fine but the unbearable pain burning his chest turned his words into nothing but a bloody cough. He help but to feel guilty. Oh dear, who could've imagined that *this, would be the end of the cruel fae who was once the future King of valley of thorns...? Such a pitiful way to die...

"Child of man...please don't-"

"You promised to be the one protecting me when things went wrong! You told me that you'll be there whenever I needed you...!!" You wailed while choking up in sobs. words kept coming out of your mouth without you having any control over them, you didn't even realize that you were not simply talking but shouting at this point. You felt so heavy, so full of words. These were going to be your last words to him and no one even tried to hold you back from pouring your anger on fae, not even Malleus himself.

"I-I need you now, please. Please I love you tsunotarou don't leave me alone!" you screamed in pain and broke down in tears again. You brought your teary face to his, letting tears swell down your face and fall on his.

"My precious human, you don't have much time left. It's your now-or-never chance to make a a return to your own world...,don't waste it on me... go," Malleus whispered to you, his tone was still so certain strong yet filled with so much pain. And you knew that he was right.

Just a few meters away from where Malleus's lifeless body was laying, bloody screams and shouts of the students fighting could still be heard. The hall of mirrors had been destroyed, and the dark mirror's gate itself could get closed at any second. You could here Ace and Deuce screaming your name as they tried to find you through the crowd, it was your very last chance to return home.

"Your friends are calling, little one. D-...gah-!!" Malleus hissed as he squirmed in pain. "D-don't keep them waiting..." even yet, he was keeping his smile on. But even as his face could fool you his struggling for breath was telling you that he couldn't last for much longer...

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM!" you said as you hugged tight to his face again. You ran your fingers through his messy hair, wanting to scream from the bottom of your chest and letting the whole world hear your pain. "I want to stay here with y-you, please, as long as I get to be with you no one else matters..." words become hard to spell as the your throat is clogged with pain. You couldn't talk, you couldn't see, you couldn't breathe. You'd never wanted life to be a nightmare more that you did now, you were begging to heaven to let it all be on, to let you wake up from this hell and find your beloved tsunotarou beside you; safe and alive.

"Here...with me?" Malleus said in a questionable tone but he wasn't really asking. His closed his eyes begun to let out a weak smirk as he continued to speak: "Happy endings... aren't for villains, child of man" he bitterly uttered before letting out another cough "You've got no future with me..."

His words ached your heart a lot more than you thought it may. Oh lords, just how badly you wished you could just grab his face and kiss all over it again and again while telling him not to say such things. But here you were, doing nothing but to silently cry as you held on to your beloved one's lifeless body. You couldn't save him, you couldn't do anything tobut to watch. Your hands wee holding him tight but couldn't do anything to take away the pain burning his chest or even stop him from bleeding.

"Yet..." malleus sighed "I used to wonder if you could you could be my... happy ending,"

Malleus's fragile smile had vanished, his face being totally experssionless now. The light of his glowing eyes was slowly disappearing, his breathes were cut shorter and his hands... colder.

"And...I was right. You indeed changed everything about my life" you could see a small drop of tearing falling down his eye as he spoke:"You brought light to me just when I'd given in to my darkness and before I could've realized... you changed me" a small yet, genuine smile begun to reappear upon his pale lips. He turned his head to you, his hand trying to pull a small strand of your hair away from your teary face. "You are my little angel, (y/n). You've always been..."

And before you could've realized, you were no longer the only one crying. Your finger slid between his hand, trying to hold it once again. He locks his fingers with yours, making you feel the warmth of all the times you two had held hands before. You couldn't tell why but, you realized that you were smiling through your tears. The pain was ripping your heart out, yet there was also a warmth, a hope.

A feeling of joy that made you want to smile at him back through the depths of pain and despair, just like the first time, when you were smiling at the horned stranger standing at the back of the ramshackle dorm. All those glamorous meetings, are held secretly in the dead of the night and not a single knew about them but you and your unknown visitor, your tsunotarou. Each and every of the memories you had besides him were recalled to you, and your mind drowned in him. His laughter, his eyes, his warmth. The love you two shared and not a single soul knew about it but you, all flashed before your eyes as you gazed through his emerald eyes again.

"(y/n)! There you are!" you heard Deuce's from behind as you could hear their footsteps approaching, yet you didn't care to turn your head away, your whole world was lost in the fae's eyes at the moment.

"I love you...Malleus" you whispered to him, not even realizing that this was your very first time calling him by name.

"As I love you," he replied.

You wanted to say something but it becomes hard to form words when your mouth refuses to work, when words get lost in a sea of murky thoughts, when the numbing darkness pulled you closer. Or was that Malleus pulling you closer? You couldn't quite tell anymore.

You brought your lips closer to his, feeling the last remaining of his lifeless breathes brushing against your face.

"Be it in this life or next," he murmured, his words low but soft against your skin when you squeezed his bloodied fingers in yours "I will find you again. I promise to you, I will."

And this time, he wasn going to keep his promise by all means...

You bowed your face down to his, whispering to him before your lips met: "Then I'll be waiting for you....once upon a dream"

You closed your eyes and felt his soft lips against yours, the kiss was filled with a deadly pain but also met a slight warmth of hope. You filled your entire existend being woven to him. The kiss was filled with the taste of coopery blood combined with your salty tears, yet so soft and sweet.

"(y/n)..." Nothing could make this moment any more euphric for Malleus than it already was, surrounded by beautiful, swirling trails of light, feeling utterly weightless and free, met by a dreamy kiss from the one and only love of his life, he wonders if his life had ever been this good. He could barely remember ever being so calm. Crying at such a beautiful moment seemed totally pointless. Why try to struggle against something so wonderful? Right?

You didn't pull back even as the fae's very last breathe got lost between the kiss and his eyelids fell shut.

At last, you'd given him the true “kiss of death”.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #mallues draocnia #Malleus's Draconia x reader #Twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #tw/blood #tw/death #angst

[kattwritesuwu]

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

---------------------

Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

[lofitojii]

IMAGINE: This is Goodbye

…*☆*……………………………………………

Summary: The feelings just aren’t there anymore, and though it’s the thing that breaks you, you have to let go. 

A/N: so here’s a sad post. I’m feeling pretty down lately due to things that are going on so I decided to pour it out here. Sorry for the angst but also not sorry hahaha.

…*☆*……………………………………………

Dabi: 

Things had been off for a while, you could feel the tension rise as the bickering turned into full on arguments. It was over the little things too, everything had seemed to set him off. No matter how you felt, he acted as if he didn’t care. You couldn’t take it anymore, the feeling inside of you visibly tearing you apart. The love you had once felt for him turned into fear, fear of setting him off or making him upset. You were tired of walking on eggshells, you needed to confront him, understand why he was so short with you. 

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” You asked, approaching the dark room you had shared with the man for so long. It was cold, empty, nothing but tension filling the room.  

“I do love you,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know… I just..” 

“I can’t do it,” you interrupted. “If you keep treating me like this, I can’t do it.” 

Dabi got up from his spot on the bed, slowly approaching you. “I’m sorry Y/n,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I loved you but now? I… It’s not the same.” You knew it was coming, you knew where this conversation was going to go, yet it ripped your heart in half. You felt the tears swell, the lump in your throat being held back by your urge to fight the tears. 

“Then leave.” Dabi didn’t respond after that, he did exactly what you told him to do. He grabbed his coat, put on his shoes and made his way for the door. You sat there on the bedroom floor, bringing your knees up to your chest as you waited to hear the door click but it felt as if it was never coming. Dabi let out a sigh, his head hung low.

“Thank you, Y/n. For letting me love you.” 

Hawks: 

He had grown so distant, being spacey with you, leaving you on read, ignoring your phone calls. You knew he was busy but this was so unlike him. You wanted to confront him, call him out on being a bad boyfriend but you held it back. And for what? This wasn’t the Keigo you knew, not the one you had fallen in love with so long ago. This was a side you had never witnessed, something you had feared of since day one. You could tell he was trying to grow the gap between you, and eventually you just gave up trying to mend it. This time, you couldn’t keep quiet anymore. You had to confront him, ask him why, know why he was treating you like this. 

“You’re different,” you cooed, sadness lingering in your tone. Kiego sighed, running his hands stressfully through his hair. 

“I know,” he replied quietly. 

“What’s going on? You’ve been so distant, you’re short with me,” You tried your best to remain calm, knowing that this conversation was going to go a different way. 

“I.. I don’t know,” he lied. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You already have, Kiego,” you whispered. “Whatever is going on has already hurt me. Just be honest, there’s nothing left you can say that won’t hurt at this point.” 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he finally admitted. “It’s not you. I loved every second I had with you. I just… I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Is it because of me or because of something I did?” You could feel yourself choking on the tears but nothing was coming out. You were numb, unable to express yourself. 

“Not at all.” He lifted his hand to your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped. “You were wonderful. I just.. I need to be alone right now.” 

“Then go,” you finally spat. Kiego sat there for a second before letting out a sigh and removing himself from his spot. He put his coat on, unable to look at him while he did so. You didn’t even want to say goodbye, you couldn’t. So instead, you just let him leave, letting you finally feel that pain you were pushing away for so long. It was over, it was really over. 

Shinsou: 

He was usually so good about checking in, or even responding to your silly little questions. But something was off. He was ignoring your calls, leaving in the morning before you got up, coming home late after you had gone to bed. Things were off and you were too nervous to confront him about it because he was very defensive about situations like that. You were tired of the confrontation, you just wanted to stop hurting. So you finally did it, you told him you wanted to talk and he agreed almost immediately. 

“So are you going to tell me why you’ve been so distant?” you confronted right off, getting straight to the point. 

“I’ve just been trying to work out these feelings, I never meant to upset you.” 

“Okay, but you did,” you confirmed. “I’d rather you just be open with me instead of having me try and guess how you’re feeling.” He looked stressed, like he just wanted to escape. You could tell something was on his mind, something holding him back. “Shinsou, you’ve always been straight forward with me. You have always told me how you felt when you were feeling it so I know something is wrong.” 

“Y/n,” he finally whispered, avoiding eye contact. “I love you but… I’m not in love with you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve just been trying to solve this problem on my own and I know I’ve been dragging you down with me.” 

“If breaking up is what needs to happen, then I’m okay with it.” It pained you, his words felt like daggers. But you knew you couldn’t hold onto something that wasn’t real anymore. “I have only ever had love for you. I hope you find and understand what it is you’re looking for.” And with that, you left. You couldn’t sit there and lie to him about how you’ll be okay and that you were okay with letting go if it meant he’ll be okay. You loved him, more than you loved most things in this world. 

But sometimes, when you really love something and they are trying to fly away, let them. If they hurt, they won’t be able to love you the way you need. And that’s what you told yourself as you left. You need to be loved the way you need and unfortunately, Shinsou couldn’t give that to you anymore. 

Tamaki:

Sometimes you try and work things out with someone you love and sometimes you don’t, regardless of how you feel. You loved him with your entire being but you could tell something was off. Tamaki was very reserved when it came to his feelings so when he started to close himself off again, you knew he was struggling internally with something. You didn’t want to pry or bother him with loads of questions, but it had gotten to the point where you had no other option. He had been ignoring your calls, texts, declining your offers to spend time together. You decided to walk over to his place that night, unable to just let the situation simmer any longer. 

“Can we talk?” You asked Tamaki as he stood there in the doorway, looking as if he was ready for bed. 

“I um, I’m just about to go to bed.” 

“It won’t take long,” you reassured. “Please?” He scratched the back of his neck as he moved to the side so you could walk in. He led you into his living room, taking a seat on the couch. “I..I’ve had a lot of time to think,” you stuttered, taking deep breaths in order to control your breathing. “And well, I think I’m just going to do it because I’ve tried and tried and I’ve gotten nothing in return. This really fucking hurts but… I don’t know.” Tamaki was silent, his focus on you. “I love you but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.” 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Tamaki pleaded. He rested his head in the palm of his hands, hearing inaudible sobs come from him. “I love you, I know I do but, I don’t feel anything for this anymore. I tried to tell myself over and over that I could make it work and that the feelings would come back…” 

“It’s okay.” You found yourself crying now too, feeding off of Tamaki’s emotions. You lifted your hand, placing it on Tamaki’s shoulder. “I loved every second I had with you and as I leave today, I want you to know that no matter where life takes us, I will be there in the background supporting you through it all.” Tamaki let it all go, letting his emotions take over as he sat there and cried in front of you. 

You knew he was sad but you could tell he was being genuine and that’s really what made it all the more hard for you to say goodbye. You will always cherish the time you had with him and can only hope that one day, he finds that sense of comfort and safety within himself and the one he chooses to be with in the future. 

Bakugou: 

He would simply ghost you.

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia fic #my hero academia imagine #Dabi #dabi x female reader #dabi fanfic #dabi x reader #hawks #Hawks fanfic #hawks x reader #hawks x female reader #hawks one shot #tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki amakiji #tamaki x female reader #shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou fic #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki

[peakyxtommy]

Wonder - T.S.

Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around song Wonder by Shawn Mendes. Tommy wonders about his love for the reader and has to make a decision to confess or deny it. 

Word Count: 2.7K 

Warning: Angst, Sadness, Fluff

A/N: Enjoyed writing this. Ya Girl Snapped LOL Listen to Wonder b/c that song snaps.

Gif Credit: @myimaginesworld​

I wonder if I'm being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

I wonder, wouldn't it be nice

To live inside a world that isn't black and white?

His heart ached again in this lifetime. His heart has not ached this way in the longest of time, since he lost his first true love. It was a losing battle because the only thing that painted his mind was the scene of you crying last night in his office. He did what he did best which was push people away. It was a trait he had gotten good at from a young age. Thinking he was protecting himself but was really doing the opposite. Avoiding being vulnerable, the risk that comes with letting another person in. Letting them see the deepest roots of your soul. The actions of the past that caused trauma on the present. Wishing it all could be wiped away in the future. 

He remembers the crack in your voice as the scene replays in his head. You came to his office, to be taken out to dinner as he had forgotten earlier in the week. When you show up to his office ready to be dined, you're met with the same old excuse again. That’s when your voices started out in a yelling match to now be in hushed whispers of the rarest parts of your mind, on display for the other. 

“Do you even love me?” Your finger points accusingly at him as he stands tall with a small space between your two bodies, but the tension felt made that space feel like you were across the room. It was a question that broke his heart even more than the first time the words left your soft lips. The way your brow furrowed and the curvature of your lips frowned with deep sadness, he knew this wasn’t a game anymore. 

“Why would you even ask that?” He questions in defense, not daring to meet your eyes, finding his reflection in his black shoes more interesting. 

“Lately, I can feel the distance growing between us, like a ship lost at sea, that’s getting harder to reach. I know I told you how I felt, a few weeks back. I didn't need to hear you say it back but, since then, it’s like you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. It hurts.”

You whisper the last part so soft, he almost misses it. He hears it but the thought scares him. Makes him want to run even further away than when you first said it to him. He stares as you hold back the tears in your eyes, silently pleading for him to say something, to be brave enough to let you in. He remains silent. 

“I love you Tommy, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s like lighting fires with matches, but it’s not catching with you. I keep leading myself into the flames, to keep on burning. It’s not enough to lose myself when you get to walk away fine, not broken hearted.” 

“Then maybe you should go. Find someone that is good enough for you!” He screams, throwing the glass in his hand against the wall, watching as it shatters into small pieces. This was the last straw for you. You just shake your head in disappointment, as he tries to get the last word in. 

As he watched you leave his office with the door slamming loudly, shaking the walls. He knew it was a mistake that he didn’t go after you or say the truth he felt in the deepest part of his being. So instead he sat in his office staring out the window nursing a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes, hoping it would take some of the pain away. It doesn’t but it at least numbs the thought of you in his heart and mind, at least for a little while.  

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that's on my mind

Been dreamin' that you feel it too

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He felt it felt deep inside his bones from the moment he met you. He couldn’t explain why when you talked to him it made everything feel different, feel new. He wondered about you. His mind couldn't stop traveling to the future. He let himself dream freely of loving you. He wanted to tell you the truth but he was afraid. You made him happy. You covered the deepest scars and wounds with your words. Words that spoke truth, spoke volume. You were sweet and kind, the almost exact opposite of him. You spoke with a smile on your face every time you graced him with your presence. 

It had been three days since he last saw and heard from you. He didn’t blame you at all, he blamed himself. He knew the look on Polly’s face the second day meant she knew something was up and today she ripped him a new one as usual, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen to her reasoning, already knowing the truth. He wished the truth didn’t hurt, that denial could be easier but it wasn’t. 

He spent his days forcing himself into work to not let his mind get too caught in silence because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and what you were doing in the small moments of your days away from him. It was only at night right before he closed his eyes he thought of you and him, the moments you shared together. 

“Tommy what are you doing, put me down!” You laugh as he spins you around in his arms.

“I have good news, you’re the first I'm sharing with!” He says with a wide grin, as he places you back on the ground. 

“What’s the good news Tommy?” You cheer, just as excited as him. 

“I got the betting license needed and I'll be able to expand to own a club in London. My plan is working out great so far.” 

“That’s excellent news Tom. I’m proud of you and know your family will be glad as well.”

“To celebrate, I got you something.” He pulls out a small black rectangle box placing it into your open palms. You open the box, to reveal a three stone diamond pendant necklace. It was the first of many moments where he would leave you speechless in a good way and gift you in a sweet way.  

“Thank you so much Tommy. You didn’t have to do this. I should be the one surprising you with a gift. I love it so much, I'm never going to take this off. “ You kiss him sweetly and allow him to put it around your neck.

“You’re my girl, you’re a gift enough to me daily (Y/N).” 

I wonder why I'm so afraid

Of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint

“I love you Tommy.” You spoke the next morning naked limbs entangled in another as your forehead rested against his collar bones, fingers tracing circles into his milky skin. Those words had been on your mind a lot the past few weeks. You were afraid to say them, to leave yourself open to being hurt. 

The closer you grew to him as staying the night more at his house and even slowly leaving a few of your things there. You knew it was him that made your heartbeat skip just a little faster and even when he made it angry or spark with fear due to his dangerous risk taking, he also calmed it like no other. Even though he wasn’t the best with words, when he spoke to you he tried his best and would say the words that seemed to soothe you back to peace. His actions of holding you closer at night or early in the morning or surprise gifts, made you believe it was all worth the risk of saying those three words. Three words that spoke volume, that could grow or crush you in the small fraction of a second. He was worth the risk. 

When he heard you say those words, it’s like a knife pierced his heart. A heart that already knew death and heartache. A heart that was on the mend, but still wounded. The words you spoke stroked fear inside of him. A man able to strategize, control men, and kill his enemies was afraid to love. He didn’t want to mess this up or say something wrong, even in this moment.

Those words were real, the emotions were real, and that what was happening between the two of you was real. It wasn’t a game or dream, but a connection. A connection he didn’t want to end or break. He knew he wasn’t a saint and surely he was going to Hell, but with you in his arms, he felt whole, felt holy. 

He did what he did best and shoved his emotions down. He didn’t say anything because he knew you weren’t expecting him too. The best he could do was offer a small smile and a peck on the lips as he held you closer to his chest, afraid that time and his feelings would catch up with him.  

I wonder, when I cry into my hands

I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man

He wasn’t one for deep emotions, because it made him feel less than a man but with you he could be vulnerable. He could fully be himself and you drew that out of him slowly at first. 

You tell he was angry by the slam of the front door, soon followed by the slam of his office door. Both shaking the house into silence and then the chatter continued like it was a normal occurrence. You knew not to bother him right now, deciding to let him cool down for a bit before going to see what was wrong. 

You waited an hour before knocking, making your entrance known with a hot cup of tea and a plate of dinner on a tray. The scene in front of your eyes almost shocks you, but you handle it by addressing it head on.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” You speak in a soft whisper setting the tray on his desk, as he furiously wipes his wet eyes. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine. It’s all fucking fine!” He huffs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to will the tears away. You take a sit across from him in the empty chair allowing him to have his space, never seeing him this upset before. 

“Everything’s not fine. You’re angry and upset, upset enough that you’re crying. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you. I’ll be here to listen.” You speak biting your lip out of nervousness of wondering if you pushed him too far. 

“Men aren’t supposed to cry, crying is weak! It serves no purpose.” He swallows the last bit of the glass of whiskey he’s been nursing next to the half filled bottle. His eyes still don’t meet yours. 

You finally come around to his chair to sit in his lap, forcing his eyes to meet yours. 

“That’s a lie because everyone cries. Crying isn’t weak, it’s a normal human emotion. It actually does you some good. I sometimes feel better after I cry and sometimes when I’m crying with the right person, it makes me feel even better than when I’m crying alone. I promise, I won’t think less of you if you cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time and hold all your emotions in. It’s okay to let it all out.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, knowing this man wouldn’t let you easily but you would open your arms wide enough to let him know you were a safe place, that you could be his safe place, his safe haven from all of the things going on in his world and mind. That much he appreciated and would hold on too, even if he couldn’t fully express himself emotionally yet. 

And I wonder if someday you'll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright

You were sitting in your living room reading when you heard a knock at the door. You move swiftly to see who it could be at this late hour, having a feeling but pushing it to the back of your mind. It was only a week since you last heard and saw of him. You brace yourself for when you open the door, to come in contact with his tall and pale figure, standing in your doorway. His blue eyes had bags underneath them and his face was stone cold. 

“Can I please talk with you?” He asks.

“Now you have words to say, a week later. You seemed okay, not saying anything when we had words in your office!” You huff with anger, crossing your arms as you both stood in the doorway, cold air, nipping at you both, almost colder than the air between you two. 

“It will only take two minutes. If you want me to go after that then I’ll leave. I promise.”

 “Go on.” 

“I’m sorry for being daft and hurting your feelings. It was wrong of me. I’ve only been avoiding you because I love you. I was afraid of letting you get close because I know I’m not good enough for you and that you can do better. I’m selfish because I want you to choose me even if I'm not the best option for you.

 I’m plagued by darkness, but you’re the light that shines through. Even from the day we first met, I knew there was something special about you. I’m not ready to lose that, lose you, by letting fear control my heart. I will never be perfect, as good, and will always be in the head of danger, but I do promise to try my best to be the best I can be, if you will still have me? I really do love you (Y/N), even if it’s taken me this long to realize it.”

You can see the redness of his cheeks and the wetness pooling in his eyes as he makes his declaration to you. You can still feel that familiar sting of heartache from the week earlier, but you also feel the warmth of the love you have shared for him inside the depth of your inner being. There will never be love without heartache and making those hard decisions of staying or walking away. 

“Tommy you’re enough for me. I see the darkness and the danger, but I see the good in you. You need to start seeing it as well. If I had to choose you over anyone else, I would choose you time and time again because I love you Thomas Shelby, and only you. You have my heart and you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m still hurt by your words and actions, and if it happens I will leave. So don’t mess up. We’re a team and we both have things we can work on together because no one’s perfect.” You speak with seriousness in your tone but also warmth and love. 

 “Thank you.” Is all he speaks as his cold fingers find your cheeks and your ice lips touch soon becoming warm in his embrace. You let him into your home to warm up and have a cup of tea. Spending the remainder of the evening reading a poetry book you both enjoy, taking turns reading pages to each other, enjoying being in the embrace of another again.  

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He no longer had to wonder about your love, finally allowing himself to fall into you. To trust you fully and to let the walls surrounding him and his heart come down, knowing you were going to be worth it. 

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