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claudemblems · 2 years

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I Dedicate My Heart...To You | Levihan

I promised @/glassesandswords a few months back that I would write a Levihan piece during their Marley Vacay and I finally finished it 😭 If you're seeing this, I'm sorry it took so long!! I ended up cutting out the first half and just focusing on the last scene since it can stand on its own. I might eventually go back and write about their other adventures in the city of Marley! For now, please enjoy some Levihan confessions by the sea <3

“Ah, Lady Kiyomi sure does have a lovely estate, doesn’t she?”

Hange and Levi strolled beside the Marleyan shores bordering the Azumabito estate, the evening sun casting a deep orange glow as it sank below the horizon.

“It’s not half bad,” Levi admitted. He closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his raven hair. “It’s a good place to get some peace and quiet away from all the noisy brats.”

“By ‘noisy brats,’ do you mean the kids?” Hange asked, smiling.

“Well, no one else is making a ruckus in the streets about ice cream.”

“Well, it is their first time seeing what all the outside world has to offer.”

“I wouldn’t mind them getting excited if they weren’t causing a scene," Levi said, not bothering to hold back his sigh of disapproval.

“Says the person who made us run from the authorities after saving a random kid.”

“Shut up.”

Hange’s laughter echoed like church bells through the air, the sound almost as natural and serene as the soft crashing of waves on the shore.

Levi knew he’d been grumpier than usual during their excursion, but someone had to be the responsible adult. In truth, he really didn’t mind standing back and watching Hange and the kids run about carefree, laughing and smiling wherever their curiosity led them. If anyone deserved to relax, it was them. They’d been through hell and back since the walls first fell. Sure, they’d had their moments of joy, but even in those moments they were always bracing for the worst. A moment’s peace could and often was rudely interrupted by their harsh reality. Danger surrounded them, anywhere, everywhere, and constantly. But this time, with the threat of titans far behind them, Levi watched his fellow scouts finally drop their guards, eyes looking upon the world with hope. He wished that someday soon they could live the remainder of their lives like this: unafraid, fulfilled, and happy. Those brats deserved it.

Especially Hange.

Levi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his heart skipping a beat in his chest.

The ocean breeze gently lifted the edges of Hange’s hair, the flyaway strands framing her face as if she were a piece of art. Everything about her was so carefully crafted, from the upturned corner of her lips, her long, silky brown hair, and her chocolate eyes that shone like sunlight. It was a sight so perfect, so captivating. Levi wished that he could capture this moment in time and save it forever. Is this why people like to use those cameras? He’d once thought Marleyans had some odd tastes and even odder interests, but maybe he was finally beginning to understand them.

“Levi?”

Levi nearly jumped as Hange’s voice quickly pulled him out of his thoughts. “What is it?”

He could sense the smile that she wanted to give him, but for some reason, she held it back. Was she stopping herself from teasing him, or was it something else?

“You were staring at me,” she said.

Though Levi didn’t react outwardly, inwardly his heart began to pound against his ribcage. Heat spread to his cheeks, and he had to keep himself from clicking his tongue at her. She might actually tease him if she realized he had gotten so flustered.

“You’re imagining things,” he answered coolly, fixing his eyes on the sea. But even with his back turned, he still felt her gaze on his. It drove him crazy, how she could affect him like this. Hange was single handedly unraveling the man who never brought his emotions out into the open. She was dismantling the cool, uncaring persona he’d worn for so long. She was drawing herself closer and closer to him, and he was letting her, even though he’d grown so afraid of getting attached and one day having to let go.

“Oh, I am?” Hange mused, tapping a finger on her chin. “Sorry. Maybe I was the one staring.”

Thump. Levi’s heart was doing that dastardly thing again. Beating. Faster. Harder. All without his permission.

“W-What did you say?”

He was expecting some sort of quip to fall from her lips, for Hange to break out into an unrestrained fit of laughter. But she didn’t.

She blushed.

Levi stared at her, mouth agape. Am I understanding this right? There’s no way Hange would say something like that to me. Dang it. I know everything she says is unexpected, but how am I supposed to respond to…this?!

“Ah…sorry for saying something like that so out of the blue. I really don’t have a filter today. Perhaps it’s because this little vacation has proved to be so exciting? Anyways, it’s starting to get dark out. Let’s head in—”

Levi gripped Hange’s wrist, holding it tight but keeping it loose enough for her to walk away, if she really wanted to.

“Levi?”

“You can’t just say something that serious and then walk off.”

“Well…what else am I supposed to do? It’s nothing, right? Just a slip of the tongue. I’m tired anyways. Maybe it’s just—”

“You never say things you don’t mean, Hange.”

The blush on her cheeks deepened, and Hange bowed her head, desperately trying to hide the sight from Levi. “I’m not that good at being sincere.”

“I’m not either, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

Hange’s wide eyes snapped up to meet his, and her heart fluttered upon seeing Levi’s flustered countenance. With his free hand, he covered his face with his palm, sighing deeply into it. “After all these years of being friends, the one time you do me in is when we’re on a vacation in another land at someone else’s house before everything possibly goes to hell.” Levi let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his now messy strands of hair. “Tell me, Hange. Was that really a joke, or is it something that came from your heart?”

Hange considered her words for a moment, battling between coming clean and brushing the whole thing aside. But seeing Levi’s desperation, his pleading to know if there was truth to be found in her words…could she really deny him of the truth of her feelings, now?

“With everything I do, I dedicate my heart,” she declared, briefly glancing back up at Levi’s eyes. “I’ve dedicated my heart for humanity, for my fallen comrades, but to a single person…I think I already have.”

Levi’s heart pounded against his chest, threatening to leap out. “You’ve dedicated your heart…to me?”

Hange pursed her lips as she fought back her sudden shyness. “Well…we’ve been by each other’s side for so long, and we’re the last ones left. I can’t say I haven’t thought about the future, either. Our future. And how it might be nice…to continue to experience life at your side.”

For the first time in Levi’s life, he found himself at a loss for words. This is how Hange felt about him? Since when? For how long? But more importantly, why?

“I don’t think I’m the kind of person you’d want to live out the rest of your life with. I’m unpleasant, I can’t stand a dirty house, and after all these years of fighting, I’m not sure that I can easily settle into a life free of obligations. Do you really want to be woken up at five in the morning because I’m making the bed with you in it?”

Hange flung her head back, bursting into laughter. Levi could only observe her reaction, trying to will the bashfulness to leave him. But now he’d just insinuated not only living in the same house as Hange, but sleeping in the same bed! What was he doing? He’d never been good at expressing his feelings. Perhaps he should have kept them to himself—

“Well, if you clean the house, then I’ll cook the food! The kids have always complimented my culinary prowess~”

The two turned their gazes to one another, their once wild blushes now just faint shades of red. The uneasiness in the air had given way to a sense of relief, and the anxiety gripping them had turned into confidence. As they looked for answers in each other’s eyes, the sun dipped lower and lower below the horizon, stars just beginning to peek through the deep orange sky.

“Well, how about it, Captain? If we make it out of this war alive and neither of us are still with anyone, how about we get married? We’ve dedicated our hearts to humanity. Now it’s time to dedicate them to someone new.”

“Idiot,” Levi whispered, gently taking Hange’s hand in his as he began to pull her back to the Azumabito estate. Despite his rough words, if you looked closely enough, you could spot the tiniest of smiles forming on Levi’s face. With the soft whistling of the wind and the lapping of waves on the shore, they walked on slowly together, relishing in the feeling of their fingers intertwined. “My heart’s already yours. You don’t even have to ask.”

#claudemblems writes #look I'm obsessed with the dedicated hearts thing okay #I want them to dedicate their hearts to each other #aot #levihan #levihan fic

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livredebelle · 1 year

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Seventeen: The memory of the blue anemone (part 1)

WHEN I WAS A CHILD, I OFTEN DREAMT OF sleeping in a flower patch flooded with blue anemones--blue, because blue was my favorite color then and now. The flowers were beautiful and probably my favorite type in the world. It was a lonely and sad dream; there was never any other soul present, and I found myself back in the same blue field whenever I felt depressed or lonely growing up, which was pretty frequent. Even now, when I close my eyes I can so vividly see the scenery that relaxes me--yet, paradoxically, makes me a bit anxious at the same time, for deep in my heart I knew that I only had this specific dream whenever I was troubled with my thoughts and feelings. This was my escape fantasy world whenever I didn't want to deal with whatever was happening in real life.

When did this bad habit of escapism start?

The day I shed my naïveté and fully recognized the craziness of my family, I felt was the first time I was seeing things clearly. Up until that day, I never thought I had a harder life than others--just different, up until a certain point and age.

For example, on those occasions whenever Pete had lost his temper and marked my face, I had thought that I had perhaps deserved it; that it was natural for a parent to discipline his or her child, no matter how harsh the punishment. I hadn't questioned it, because it was far less worse than the verbal abuse Mother resorted to, which made my heart feel so hollow that I would wonder if I even had one. Believing that her children were the bane of her existence, she constantly found ways to criticize and belittle my own. Struggling to find jobs and tired of rejections from film executives and romance partners alike, she could find no source of happiness and found that it was easier to blame her failures on others, namely us.

"Those goddamn geezers," she had cried out one morning, when I was in the fourth grade, as she poured herself a cup of coffee and mixed it with her favorite bourbon. "They'll regret casting me aside this time. Who the hell do they think I am?! I'm Melanie Everly! I used to make big bucks for their film company back in the day, and now they change their mind because I'm not a stable source of investment? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She stared down hard at me as I continued to calmly eat my cereal. "God... could you chew any louder? Really. I can't stand you, even though you are my child."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry--that's all you ever fucking say. Don't you have a bigger vocabulary than that? But then again, maybe I shouldn't have expected anything from that man's child. Like father, like fucking daughter, annoying as shit."

Truthfully, I didn't remember much about my birth father because he'd left us when I was far too young to understand its implications, so her comparison didn't sting too much. The timeline was a little foggy, because whenever I had questions about him Mother became so livid that I dared not to speak his name across my lips. He wasn't allowed to exist, and if we ever spoke of him it was when she wanted to lash out at the unfairness of her life and complain her ass off.

I wondered if He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named knew what kind of life he had left behind--or escaped. Either way, I didn't care because I resented him. How could I not? He was the source of all my problems; the reason Mother became so unhappy and fucked up in the head, the reason I had to endure all this crap, because he was too much of a coward to deal with them himself.

Lying down in the blue anemone field, I would wish that this were my reality instead. Reality was too painful. The constant ridicule and rebuke I had to endure had become too much. I began to question everything about myself, and every morning the first thought that crossed my mind was that it would have been convenient if I had simply not awoken again. How selfish of a request, to die comfortably in your sleep. That was probably an honor reserved for the best human beings on the planet, on the other side of the spectrum far from the damned, including me.

"Mama," I mumbled hesitantly, "the teacher said we need to bring twenty dollars for our field trip fee by next week..."

"What? Don't talk nonsense; you're not going on some unsupervised trip. Twenty dollars? They're trying to rip kids off now! Unbelievable. You're staying home, and that's final."

"Okay."

"Where is your report card? Shouldn't it have come out by now?"

"Yes. I have it here for you to sign..."

She snatched it from my hands as soon as I took it out of my backpack. She eyed it meticulously, then signed it and put it back down on the table. "Good. I expect nothing less than As, you understand? Keep it up and don't you dare slack off. Rosalie! Where's yours?"

Rose flinched in her seat at the table. She wasn't as studious as me, but she was definitely more athletic and pretty. But for our dear mother, nothing less than perfection would satisfy her. Which was precisely why she could never be satisfied with us.

When Rose handed her report card over in silence, I steeled myself for the ensuing blow. Sure enough, Mother flew into a rage.

"This is what you call a report card? Thank God you take after my looks at least, or you'd be utterly hopeless. Do you two know how harsh the real world is? You have no idea because you're just children. Well, you'll learn when you're older, and you'll understand. By then, no one will help you--certainly not me; I have my own life to live by then. You should be grateful that I didn't abandon you guys at the orphanage those years ago, when I should have..."

As she trailed off, Rose and I both knew--no, were already aware, that she regretted that decision. She liked to remind us occasionally.

"Do you think what she said is true?" Rose asked quietly as we walked to school together that day. "That I'm worthless because I don't get good grades...?"

"No, don't listen to her. You know she's just saying those things because she's angry."

"But why is she always angry at us? Did we do something wrong?"

"..."

Her questions were always too difficult to answer. She was only two years younger, yet she was pure and her heart was good. I wanted to protect that as long as I could; it was too late for me, who had already begun to see the ugliness of life and felt bitter about it. If I stared into a mirror at my reflection hard enough, I thought, on the other side of that glass would be my sister shining in light, whereas I'd be hidden in the shadows.

"How much lunch money do you have left?" I asked instead, changing the subject.

"Not much... enough for a boiled egg and a sandwich, I think. What about you, sister?"

"I'm fine," I lied. In fact, I had run out of lunch money and knew I would have to skip lunch again, but it didn't matter. I had been lucky enough to have had breakfast that day, and would have to persevere. I had slipped Rose some of my earned lunch money because I knew that she was still growing and needed more nourishment than I did; I could steal food from the cafeteria, after all--which I did from time to time--or I could share food with my classmate and friend, Gail, who came from a well-off family and was the only one in the class who was nice to me.

After dropping Rose off in front of her classroom, I trudged towards mine, already feeling defeated for the day and out of energy but mainly feeling apathetic. Once I opened the classroom door, the students fell into a hush because the gloomy social outcast had arrived. Gail, unlike the others, was the only one who smiled at me and approached me at my desk.

"Good morning! Do you want to eat lunch together today, Irina? I have a couple of friends from other homeroom classes that will be joining, but it will be alright, since they're really nice."

"Sure. Thanks, Gail." Even though I was awkward and hardly smiled, Gail was the only one who treated me like a normal kid, and for that I was grateful. I gave her a sheepish smile before she beamed back and skipped over to a group of students who were complaining about an upcoming test.

Later, before lunch break and during our free self-study period, I headed for the bathroom as I needed to pee. Once I was behind the safety of a stall, however, I heard the arrival of a couple more girls who were loud and giggly as soon as they entered, and I felt instantly annoyed. My peace was thereby ruined.

"Have you seen her hair? It's covering like half of her face! Doesn't she know how to get her bangs trimmed?"

"Psh, what about her uniform? You can totally tell it's not washed; it smells like oily food and makes us all sick. I wish she weren't in our class. Why am I so unlucky?"

The voices belonged to a couple of girls I could identify from my class by face, but I couldn't recall their exact names. It didn't matter; this was nothing new. They didn't understand that both of those things were beyond my control. I couldn't get my hair cut because Mother didn't want to spend money on it. She would cut it for me now and then, but she would do it so bad that I preferred it, actually, when she didn't try to help. And as for the uniform, I couldn't really help that either. To do laundry, I needed coins, which Mother didn't provide because she was almost never home. I only had the one set of a blouse, skirt and tie, so it wasn't like I could wash it everyday. One time a kind old woman who lived above us felt pity at seeing our squalor conditions at home and offered to help by doing our laundry, but when Mother found out, she had been furious and made a scene, threatening the lady:

"You think we're beggars? We don't need your pity; who asked for your help, old woman?! Do you want a lawsuit on your hands? I can make you pay!"

Of course, the old woman--and the rest of our neighbors--became too afraid to intervene from then on. Fear of repercussions often outweighs kindness in any adult's heart, I realized. I had received lashings with a ruler that night for ruining her star image, and was starved for three days and three nights as punishment. I would hallucinate because of the hunger, pain, and fatigue, but what made me hold on was the hatred at the bottom of my heart--even if I never wanted to feel again, and eventually made me wish I would just die.

But nothing had turned my heart quicker to stone than hearing Gail laugh loudly in the bathroom that day.

"I know, right?" she guffawed. "God... her stench... really makes me so sick, I want to puke. But my mama told me to be nice to her, because her family is ruined and she's done for. If you want to be a good person, you're supposed to have pity for the ones who are below you. And she's, like, totally at the bottom of the social ladder."

So she had been spending time with me under false pretenses all this time--how many hours had I wasted on this rotten excuse for a human being? Talking all high and mighty because her family had more money than I did. I couldn't stand her scorn, especially after knowing it came from someone so fake and detestable. She had never once been my friend. Maybe it was better this way, because now I was able to know the truth in her heart, and she wouldn't be able to deceive me any longer. When I thought that, I became really calm in a manner of seconds. She couldn't hurt me anymore, but I could hurt her.

I flung open the bathroom stall door, making the three girls shriek and jump in surprise. When they saw me walk out of there confidently, Gail's face paled. As I wordlessly washed my hands, I could feel their stares on my back. Once I was done, I simply looked Gail straight in the eye and said:

"I don't want to be friends with a brainless slut like you, either. People like you who rely on their family's money and use their looks to advance up the so-called 'social ladder'... are nothing but leeches. I don't need your pity or friendship. Go rot in hell."

After that incident in the girls' bathroom, absolutely nobody would talk to me anymore. They were either afraid after learning the stuff I'd said, or they were more interested in full-out bullying me after my sole (fake) supporter abandoned me. Even though the girls would taunt me with nasty threats and the boys would pull at my hair, I didn't react. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Instead, as revenge, I stole a can of chicken noodle soup from the cafeteria and, during lunchtime, I poured the hot soup all over Gail's hair.

"There. Now your hair's all smelly and greasy, too. Don't ever talk to me again or I'll hurt you. And this applies to all of you"--I gave a death stare to all my classmates--"don't talk to me or come near me, or I'll make sure you get what you deserve."

Gail said nothing and took the mistreatment. The whole class became afraid of me after that, calling me demented, and the rumor spread that I was crazy and that I should be left alone, which was what I'd preferred. The next week, Gail had transferred to a different school.

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quindolyn · 3 years

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Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

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universallychaoticpan · 2 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing! May i ask for a one-shot where dazai's female s/o sees him without his bandages for the first time and she starts kissing his scars to show how much she loves every part of him?

Osamu Dazai was a man of secrets. That much could be seen, plain and simple, there in broad daylight for anyone who'd ever met him to see. That fact always amused you in a way; how the only thing he ever gave out freely was the knowledge that he hid away under bandages and flirty smiles. Osamu Dazai was a man of secrets yes,

But you had never rushed to pull them from him.

Unlike so many, you tried.

You laughed with him, let him decide where to start and when to end. You were gentle with him, even when he insisted he didn't need it; when he'd denied himself after falling apart in your arms the first time, to which you'd only smiled with a hind of sadness in your eyes and settled at his side again. He was made of secrets and fragments, colored glass painting pictures of years he wish he hadn't, tried to see life in the instant before death. He had searched for a meaning for so long, he lost the ones who gave it any semblance of purpose, all before he'd ever laid eyes on you.

But that day had been possibility, plain and simple, opening like white roses to the sun as soon as dawn broke and he wandered into the office to see you; your eyes had been heavy with sleep as you shook his hand and introduced yourself, your name sounding sweet as a hymn as it spilled from your lips.

The rest was history, really.

You became friends, then partners in crime, and now lovers; the kind to be envied, who kiss as if every touch is relief, who hold each other as though the world makes sense in the arms of another. You had a love deep as quiet water, with it's glass surface hiding so much, the illusion of perfection protecting a world just for you.

But still, he hid, and he knew if he kept on, he would lose you. Sure, you were happy now, but what of the days when you tired of waiting? When you were exhausted from trying to help him stay together, and vanished like everyone else? There was a reason Dazai had only ever tried to find a partner in death; it was because he believed he didn't have it in himself to trust someone to find one for life. But he wanted you there, as long as he could have you, and it was a wanting that pulled at his mind each night as he felt you slumber in his arms. He loved you, and even if it had taken him so long to realize it, to accept it, hell, to say it to you, Dazai knew there were few, if any people, who were willing to wait for the man of secrets to reveal himself.

He wanted to let you in.

All he needed was a moment of stupid bravery, where he could forget the terror that flooded him at the thought of loosing you. There was no getting rid of that fear, but if he wanted to keep you, he had to risk it all.

It was just another simple truth.

That night felt like a goodbye as Dazai left himself vulnerable for the first time in so long. The air on his skin felt like a warning, the apartment he shared with you becoming suffocating as he felt panic overtake him. He'd told you countless times he wasn't a good person; that he had done horrible things, things he would never be able to undo. He had tried early on to save you, and every time you had found your way back. If you want me gone, I'll go, you'd said, but if you want me to stay, I will be here for as long as you'll have me.

You don't understand, he thought now, vision swimming as his breath quickened, sweat beading across his bare back as he heard the front door unlock. It won't be my choice anymore after this.

This was the moment he had feared for so long, and he was loosing to it. Shaking and cold, he heard your things drop to the floor a million miles away, your hands gripping his own with fear in your eyes.

"Please," he shuddered, "not now. Not like this."

Now with tears on your own cheeks you pulled back, eyes cast to the floor as you did as he asked. In another moment, he was alone again, alone save for the ghosts that wailed in his head day and night. Now they howled your name, tearing through him not in fury but in sorrow. But through the gale, still you broke through, your voice calling his name through the door.

Only it wasn't a call.

It was a plea; a whisper so soft and desperate in which you had made his name a prayer.

"Please," you said. "I want to help you and I understand if you aren't ready but...I promise I won't hurt you." You sounded as broken as he felt.

You sounded afraid.

"I know you've probably heard that before," you laughed shortly, hands pressed on the cool wood on your side as the world rushed on outside. "But I could never lie to you;

I love you to much."

There it was. Finally said, something realized but never fleshed out, was your truth to him. You presented it with tender melancholy, offering your heart through a closed door while you realized there would always be a part of him he hid.

But what he realized there, back against the door and your voice heavy in his head, was that hiding places are only worth as much as the one who finds them. That it would mean nothing to him if there weren't someone to care enough to make him feel wanted. He remembered only minutes ago, when you had looked at him with your eyes flooded with fear;

Fear for him.

You hadn't run from him at all, hadn't been afraid of the crushed man you saw before you; instead you had run to his side, ready to do anything to make him alright again.

He realized that he trusted you more than he ever thought he could trust someone; and that he wanted to let you in more than anything.

So when he opened the door and let you pull him into your arms, it was all he could do not to melt into you completely. It took everything he was not to let out a sob as he felt you kiss his hands, wrists, arms, the jagged lines that crossed his skin with a touch so light it felt like heaven. The pain ebbed away slowly, until he was left with his quirt fear and you: the angel who met the fear in battle and chose to fight.

"I'm ready to talk," he whispered, to which you smiled softy and kissed his lips, letting yourself linger before you answered him.

"I'm ready to listen."

#dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader hurt comfort #bsd x rader #bsd dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai hurt comfort

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realcube · 3 years

Text

you flinch during an argument

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to anon for this request

characters ♡ suna, atsumu & sakusa

content warning ♡ cursing, angst, mentions of abuse, hurt to comfort, hinted ptss, parent!reader (in sakusa’s)

rintarō suna

♡ he paced back and forth through the living room, casting you dirty looks whenever you try to speak

♡ you rolled your eyes at how far he took your singular comment on his volleyball career

♡ you were aware that what you said might’ve offended him and in any other situation you would’ve just apologised but considering how needlessly confrontational he was being, of course you were going to be mean too

♡ ‘rin, you’re being overdramatic.’ you muttered off-handedly, assuming he’d brush it off like everything else you said, so ofc you did not expect what he did next

♡ he suddenly stormed over to you

♡ not only did he take you by surprise but also his furrowed brows and generally mad aura unnerved you too, so your natural instinct was to flinch

♡ once he saw that, he immediately stopped in his tracks

♡ his head slowly tilted to the side and his clenched jaw loosened, ‘(y/n)?’

♡ your hands were still covering your face but when you heard the suna’s soft voice, you realised what you had just done and craned your neck out to peer over your hands, ‘yes?’

♡ obviously, his intention wasn’t to hurt you but rather just stand in front of you. though it worried him that your natural instinct was to prepare yourself for harm from him. despite the fact he would/has never hit you.

♡ ‘are you okay?’ he sighed, slowly approaching you as if you were a small critter that’d run away in fright at any moment

♡ you hesitantly lowered your arms, eyes wide as you intensely examined his every move, ‘i’m fine. are you okay?’

♡ suna gestured to the seat beside you on the couch, ‘i’m good. can i sit?’

♡ you simply nodded

♡ he reluctantly sat down next to you and gently placed his hand on your knee, tracing circles with his thumb, ‘i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.’ he said, his now hushed voice contrasting to how sharp and loud his words were just a minute ago

♡ you blinked rapidly, shocked at how quickly his demeanour changed but also relieved he realised that what he did brought you discomfort, ‘it’s fine, i guess. it just looked like you were going to- y’know. and i’m sorry too, what i said was uncalled for’ you murmured, the words just falling from your lips without any prior thought as your mind was somewhere else

♡ ‘i’d never do that.’ he blurted out, ‘but i get why you might’ve thought.’

♡ a few minutes passed and not a word was spoken - you just blankly stared at the wall opposite, completely lost in thought while suna closed his eyes, slumped back in his seat and revaluated everything he did

♡ eventually, you snapped out of your contemplation and turned to look at him, only to see his sleeping figure beside you

♡ it was probably the most peaceful you’ve saw him all day - so you decided against waking him up and instead cuddled up to him, accidentally falling asleep yourself

atsumu miya

♡ you had your arms crossed over your chest, patiently waiting for atsumu to finish his hissy fit

♡ ‘it was a fucking joke, (y/n)! not that i’d expect you to understand my humour anyway. do you not get what you did? you fucking embarrassed me.’

♡ ‘it wasn’t a very funny joke, atsumu.’ you shook your head disapprovingly, trying your very best to keep a level-head but his nasty remarks didn’t make it an easy task for you, ‘you made me really uncomfortable so of course i was going to say something. also, i didn’t embarrass you, you embarrassed yourself.’

♡ the fact you weren’t as worked-up about this as he was only irritated him more. because deep-down, he knew he was being overdramatic and the contrast between both of your demeanours only highlighted this fact.

♡ he gritted his teeth together, momentarily side-eyeing you before absentmindedly cracking his knuckles

♡ he cracked his bones when he got tense - you knew this - but there was a faint voice at the back of your head, insisting that you had to run away bc he was preparing to hit you

♡ and it didn’t help when he jerked his head around to look at you

♡ though it was only the movement of his neck, this caused you to flinch as a part of you expected his hasty motion to be followed by a swing of his hand

♡ you never really thought too much of your action and assumed atsumu would pay no mind to it and continue to talk but you couldn’t have been more wrong

♡ he slapped his hand over his mouth and let out gasp as though his whole soul was exiting his body through his mouth

♡ your eyes were squeezed shut but you blinked them open to see when you mentally established that atsumu wasn’t going to swing at you and had actually stopped yelling

♡ ‘(y/n)- i’d- i’d never do that!’ the volume of his voice gradually rose as he spoke, starting as breathy emphasis and increasing to a cry

♡ upon noticed his appalled expression and his frozen structure, you dropped your arms which you had automatically raised in defence, ‘you’d never do what?’ you voice was hushed, afraid that if you spoke too loud, you’d reignite his temper

♡ he rushed over to your side, immediately opening up his strong arms for you to enter, if you wished, ‘i’d never hit you.’

♡ both his eyes and tone seemed sincere so without even thinking, you found yourself leaning into his embrace, his arms holding you close - but gently

♡ you really had no reason not to believe him as he’s never harmed you purposely in the past and he didn’t plan on harming you just there; he didn’t even plan on intimidating you but that kinda just happened involuntarily

♡ he had so much on his mind, so much he needed so say at once, so much he wanted you to know. hence, it all came out as rambles.

♡ ‘i love you, (y/n). i love you so much. i don’t want anyone to hurt you - including myself. i just want you to feel safe - i want you to be safe - so i’ll leave if you don’t feel that way with me around. i can understand why you wouldn’t. but heh, i guess it’s quite funny because i feel the safest when i’m with you. well, it’s not funny - i’m actually gonna miss you like hell - but it’s ironic. i wouldn’t even dream of harming you, love, but i don’t expect you to live in fear constantly so yeah, i’ll go if you want me to.’

♡ you blinked rapidly against his chest, pulling back to look him in the eyes and to your surprise, he appeared to be in more tears than you

♡ ‘i love you too, atsumu.’ you cooed, wiping away one of his tears with your shivering hand, ‘we don’t have to break-up. i mean, truthfully, i feel safe when you’re around too.’

♡ he let out an audible sigh of relief, ‘thank goodness.’

♡ a few moments passed of you just silently enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms until he spoke up once again while placing an infintite amount of kisses on your forehead, punctuating each kiss with an ‘i love you.’

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he was sitting beside you on the bed but he had long before withdrew his arm which rested behind your head when you expressed your concern surrounding his hostile behaviour lately

♡ ‘omi, i’m too ti--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that.’

♡ you sighed as you realised that this had spiralled into a heated fight which you really didn’t intend for it to become. all you wanted to do was talk to him about how rude he’s been to you and the baby as of recently and try to work out a solution but he had turned this into something way bigger than it needed to be.

♡ the remarks he was throwing around - as if they were nothing - resulted in a wrath bubbling in the pits of your stomach, which had been present and building up since the start of sakusa’s attitude problems

♡ you knew that if this argument didn’t stop soon, you’d lash out on him and although you really didn’t have a problem with that in theory, you had spent hours trying to get the baby to fall asleep and you didn’t want to risk waking them up with the noise

♡ and though you hated to give sakusa (mental) praise in a situation like this, you had to admit that he was good at keeping his voice down even while angry

♡ so you decided that it was best to diffuse this situation quickly and pick it up at a later date, ‘you know what, kiyoomi--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that either.’ at this point it was clear he was just saying that to piss you off, and it was working

♡ ‘--i’m going to bed; i’m tired from doing all the work in this damn house. we’ll talk about this later.’

♡ sakusa quirked a brow, scoffing at your statement despite the fact it was completely true

♡ ‘no, let’s talk about it right now. since you clearly have a lot to say.’

♡ instead of replying, you gave him what he deserved - the silent treatment

♡ you casually pulled off your slippers, tossing them aside, proceeding to do other nightly activities - while completely ignoring his presence - then reached down to pull the duvet over yourself so you could drift into sweet, serene slumber to imagine a life where sakusa acted like loved you again

♡ ‘(y/n).’ sakusa snapped, his voice sharp and demanding, ‘listen to me. talk to me- god, you’re so immature.’

♡ your eyes widened; out of the corner of your eye you saw him quickly raise his arm

♡ during your three years of marriage with sakusa, not once had he ever purposefully harmed you - physically or emotionally - but you were aware that what you were doing displeased him so your immediate reaction was to turn away and shield yourself with your forearms

♡ sakusa froze

♡ moments passed and you had yet to feel the impact of his hand so you lowered your defences to peer at him, only to see that his arm was stretched upwards as he yawned

♡ his gaze flickered between you and his arm - he was truly at a loss for words at what he just witnessed

♡ a lump formed at the back of his dry throat as he didn’t dare to speak, trying to communicate all his emotions through his eyes which grew increasingly difficult as they began to burn with tears and ache from the elongated period of time he went without blinking

♡ he wanted to tell you that he’d never lay an finger on you in that way, that he adores you and he was aware of how he’s been treating you recently but he was previously too arrogant to change his ways. now he was ready to change though, if it’s not too late.

♡ but all that came out was a choked syllable followed by a cough

♡ ‘are you okay, omi?’ you tilted your head, watching as your husband coughed his lungs out beside you, his puffy, irritated eyes squeezed shut

♡ he eventually managed to catch his breath and the first thing he did was offer his shaky hand to you

♡ though you were reluctant at first, upon meeting his gaze, it was as though his fury had melted away. his eyebrows were no longer knitted together, his judgemental sneer was now a gentle smile he wore to try reassure you and the way he looked at you resembled how he did on your wedding day. all the resentment, all the stress and all irritation was gone - which left you with the considerate, understanding man you had married.

♡ you fingers found their way to his as you slowly intertwined them together, ‘we should, uh, g-get some rest, yeah?’ you stuttered, your lips gradually curling into a weak grin

♡ a faint hum of agreement could be heard from sakusa as he shuffled so he was now laying down, with a duvet draped over him

♡ though he lay with the intention of going to sleep, he kept his hand locked with yours all throughout the night

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calumxkisses · 3 years

Text

Sweet Creature | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: i think implied smut?

summary: request - Heeyyy, can you do one, where they have a big fight and they are in quarentine, and they stop talking to each other, and the sleep in different rooms, with cal... kiss from brazil 🇧🇷

a/n: this is one of my favorite song! let me know what you think about it! i hope you enjoyed it ;)

you should read this imagine while listening to: sweet creature

➳

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a scream comes out of your lungs. Your face has turned red, your head hurts and you feel your heart pounding. Your throat is now dry and you feel your nails sticking into the palm of your hand.

What Calum notices, however, are the tears running down your face and the pain behind your eyes. What hurts him the most, though, is knowing he is the cause of your pain. He would like to hug you, tell you that he is sorry, that he loves you and that he doesn't even remember why you are fighting, but his pride prevents him from being the person he would like to be. The person you are in love with.

“All you do is whine.” he screams out, rolling his eyes and letting out a snort.

This discussion was the straw that broke the camel's back, filled by being forced to stay at home, by a canceled tour and canceled parties but, above all, by the concern of a world that is in chaos, with a fatal virus that spreads like wildfire.

He is worried, he feels the burden of not having to disappoint anyone, of being a good person who says the right things, of being a child who cares about their parents who live on the other side of the world and cannot go to visit, reassure, and that he can only see through a mobile phone screen.

“I have a right to be angry, you know that, right?” Your voice calms down a bit, but anger still runs through your veins. You walk up and down the room, with one hand on your forehead and being careful not to step on the broken glass of the fallen vase.

Calum has spent the last few weeks in the studio, out in the garden practicing, or locked in a room, anywhere but with you. He preferred to wake up early and go to sleep late, feel cold instead of holding you and skipping meals to avoid being with you.

For the first time in days, you get a good look at him: his hair has grown, as has the beard surrounding his face, he has terrible dark circles and the vein on his neck comes out prosperous, underlining how much he is screaming.

You felt abandoned, alone, left on the sidelines, and your feelings were amplified by the impossibility of going to someone, just to escape from that situation, to be held by someone else or just to talk over a coffee with a friend.

The only thing you could have done, was to ask him why, what you had done to deserve such treatment, and to spend some time together. And that’s where the scream started.

Tears roll down your face and you run your hand under your eyes to wipe them away. If you didn't notice them before, now the pinch caused by their wake has become hard to ignore.

“Are you going to cry now? God, you’re making me regret being with you. I really wish you weren’t born.”

Calum feels the pain it caused you before even reading the expression on your face. He puts his hand in front of his mouth in hopes of being able to block the words, but they have already left his lips and have come straight into your ears, getting stuck under your skin and breaking even the last pieces of the broken heart you have left.

His words hit you like a bolt from the blue. Arguing often leads to saying unthinkable words and among all the things you've been yelling at each other in the last hour, some bad words have certainly escaped, but nothing so terrible.

You feel a pain in your chest never felt before, deep and intense, and even the tears stop flowing. You inhale deeply, seeking relief in a breath of air and waiting for your body to react in any way, all is better than feeling full of pain. The room starts spinning, your head feels full and empty at the same time, and your legs struggle to bear the weight of your body.

Calum carefully scans your face, looking for any reaction from you to understand how much your mind has absorbed his words. His stress, his worries have led him to be a different person and the fear that you may leave him has terrified him, but his insecurities have done the opposite of what one expects, making he walk away from you and treating you coldly, and now he fears that he is really on the verge of being alone, with his broken heart in his hands, ready to mend every wound himself.

You didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” You whisper, lifting your face and looking him straight in the eye. The words he used, the coldness of his tones and the loneliness in which he left you have piled on top of each other on your chest, making it difficult for you to even breathe. You need time, space, whatever helps you figure out what to do.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a shaky voice. His eyes are glossy, his hands are shaking and his face has lost color. His heart carries so much goodness and you know it wasn't his intention to hurt you, but his words were like stab wounds and you need to take care of them now.

You don't want to leave, and not because you can't take a plane, but because Calum means too much to you and leaving is not an option to consider. If it ever ends up between you, after all you've been through, it should be in a more dignified way and not because of a stupid fight and insincere words.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room for a while and then we’ll see what to do.” Is all you can say and all you can do.

“So you’re not leaving?”

“I don’t think so, at least not now.”

Silence.

And that silence means everything and nothing.

You pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and, after casting one last look at the boy in front of you, you take refuge in a room that doesn't belong to you. The air in the guest room is different, you can't breathe the love that characterizes every corner of yours and Calum's and even the sheets seem different, cold, painful. You put a hand through your hair and lean on the door, slowly sliding towards the floor and letting go of your frustration.

Calum closes his eyes and puts his hands to his face as his body slumps onto the sofa behind him. The house reigns in silence, the only audible sound is your sobs in another room and, before he knows it, he starts crying too. He doesn't care about wiping his face or stopping the moans that come out of his mouth, he deserves to feel awful and humiliate himself like that, the guilt is devouring him and he just thinks about how he wishes he could disappear, to make your life easier.

When you first met, he knew you were the right person from the first look you gave him. Behind your eyes, deep in the irises, there was a whole world, made of kindness, love and joy. You had your demons, but the strength you emanated made it clear that you were able to overcome them, even without knowing it. A world that he wanted to discover, with delicacy and patience, and in which he wanted to live.

But what he feared most was bringing darkness into the light you emanated, turning your smiles into tears and your heart into a mass of sharp pieces.

He had told you, while you were eating some heated pizza on a rainy morning, your legs were on his and your face on his shoulder. And you had caressed his face, wiping away the dirt on his lip with your thumb, assuring him that you would have love him anyway and that you would have happily shared some of your light, and then you had kissed him, and that kiss tasted like tomato sauce and love, a combination you still love with all your heart.

And now, the only thing he can do, besides pitying himself, is wondering if you're regretting sharing your joy with him, if you'd rather stay full of light instead of welcoming his demons. And he fears your answer is yes.

Duke rubs his face on his leg, asking for scratches but also showing his affection. He doesn't know what happened and Calum wonders if the dog, who loves you more than any other person has crossed the threshold of your home, would look at him differently knowing that he broke the heart of the person he loves most.

If so, as his mind is trying to convince him, he couldn't handle it. He would not be able to live knowing that he has let down another being he cares about. Because he cares about you, but it is difficult for him to show it, the fear of rejection is stronger than he would like.

So, he lowers himself a little and gently strokes the dog, hoping to be able to receive that affection he is so afraid of losing.

As Calum's world shatters before his eyes, you take care to gently reassemble what's left of yours. You're still on the floor, getting up takes too much energy and a motivation that you can't find.

How you feel about the guy down the hall cannot be described in words, there is no way to describe what his gaze makes you feel, the way his words reassure you or how his love warms your heart up. It just works like this. Your love does not need big gestures or difficult words and never like now, it is better to absorb the silence and be lulled by the air.

Perhaps it would have been better to remain silent, let the cold of his words slip on you and learn to live in the loneliness in which he left you, but you couldn't go on like this. Not fighting would have meant not caring about him or your relationship and that's exactly the opposite of how things are. He had to know how you felt and what you were missing.

The sweet sound of his voice or the warmth of his skin are essential for you, not only on a love level, but in the daily routine of your life. A routine that had changed, which was no longer full of joy and smiles, light and perfume, but of demons that wandered undeterred around the walls of your home, ready to bring the cold into your souls.

And that routine, once full of love, was now non-existent. No more words had been said between you, no meal had been eaten together and your bed had forgotten what love meant. The stars, ever present witnesses of the passion that surrounded your bodies, were now always absent, covered by gray clouds and black skies. Even the moon, which guards all lovers, shone with a paler and more blurred light.

The moon gave way to the sun, the grass grew and the days alternated on the calendar. And yet, it seemed to you that you were still still that afternoon. Sure, breathing had become less difficult and the tears had stopped flowing on your face, but even in the middle of spring the coldness brought chills on your body.

You have no idea what he is doing, occasionally you see the shadow of his shoes behind the door of the guest room or you hear broken melodies coming from the studio, but his face becomes more and more unknown.

You spend your days studying, working, playing with Duke or reading your favorite books. You wake up late and go to sleep early, hoping to feel less lonely.

The truth, however, is that you miss him immensely, like water in the desert or milk after eating spicy food. You need to be able to get lost in his eyes or just hold his hand. The headache meds don't work like his kisses on your forehead, and no number of blankets could bring you the same warmth that a hug from him gives off.

You feel so pathetic to need him by your side, but after so many years of loneliness, he was able to convince you that you were worthy of being loved just like everyone else and, specifically, that he would love you more than anyone else. And he had done it, always and anyway, for the sake of the joyful news and the bad of your depression, he had always been there, ready to show you that you were worth it.

He wants to do it, he wants to continue to hold you and to tell you how beautiful you are, how honored he feels to be the keeper of your heart and the champion of your love, but he believes that no apology would bring serenity to your sky.

What is he supposed to do? No words would express the humiliation he feels whenever he thinks back to your fight and his behavior, no hug or kiss would bring love into your broken heart.

He spent his nights awake, the insomnia caused by his thoughts was making it impossible for him to live. The table seemed too big and the bed too uncomfortable, the bass was always out of tune even as he spent hours adjusting its strings and no melody seemed catchy enough to lift your mood in the other room. He knew that when you were sick, listening to him play brought some peace to your troubled world, but now no sound would chase the bad weather away.

None of his gestures would be enough to show how bad he feels. Nothing can express the pain he feels and the regret of his words.

However, 3 years of relationship is enough for him to know what makes you smile. There is one song in particular, in the immense repertoire that is your music library, that you love to hum and listen to when the silence is too loud.

So, wearing his best shirt and trying to fix the clump of his hair, he sits down at the piano in the living room and, after taking a deep breath, he tries to voice his thoughts.

Sweet creature

Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young

We don't know where we're going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

As you put down your favorite book after reading it again, Calum's sweet, broken voice spreads throughout the house, bringing a sense of comfort to your heart. You can hear the pain behind his voice, and even though you know your wounds will take some time to heal, the words he screamed at you lose their value. One part of you is still angry but the other, curious and in love, wastes no time getting you out of bed and walking towards the room.

The piano overlooks the garden, the sun shines above and illuminates all the plants. Duke is chasing a butterfly, its tail wags quickly and some leaves are stuck in its fur. Calum has his back to you, his back leaning slightly forward as he looks outward, but his mind wanders somewhere else.

You lean on the door jamb that separates the two rooms and close your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the music and breathing regularly, giving your body respite from all the accumulated stress.

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

Calum watches the garden as the lyrics of the song automatically come out of his mouth. He was never good at playing the piano but, during the nights spent away from you over the years, he promised himself to learn all your favorite songs so he could sing them to you whenever you needed them.

And while Duke rolls around in the grass, he can't help but think about the thousand picnics you had on that same lawn, the laughter you shared and all those moments when he always fell in love a little more looking at you.

And even if the song doesn't belong to him, he can still feel every single word and a small tear falls down his face.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

I know, it's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You take a few steps forward and, after taking a deep sigh, sit next to him. Calum winces at the contact but his face turns into a big smile after seeing you. He doesn't know if you're still mad at him or if his singing worked, but being able to see you again after so many days spent in agony brings a sense of peace to his messed up world. He knows that this song is not enough, that he will have to prove a lot more to you - even if you will probably forbid it - but knowing that he has you there, frees him from a weight that he carried inside.

And as usual, there is no need for words, he just needs to feel your head resting on his shoulder to know that you have come back to him. And when your hands touch his, he feels at home again.

Almost automatically, your hands begin to move to the rhythm of the music and your fingers touch the keys of the piano, accompanying Calum in the melody, just as he taught you.

Duke is rolling in the grass, the butterfly now forgotten, and his happy face is illuminated by the sun. It seems that the sky has returned to shine too, not just your eyes, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly again.

I know when we started

Just two hearts in one home

It gets harder when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You'll bring me home

There was no need to talk to him, or to explain, risking losing you was necessary for him to understand that something was wrong, that he had to find the right path, that you can risk skidding, the important thing is getting back on track.

“I am grateful to your mother for bringing you into the world, but even more grateful to you for being a part of my life. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. I love you and I always will.” He whispers, placing his hands on his thighs, as soon as he finishes singing the last words. His words are sincere, you can perceive the displeasure behind his tone and you know he believes what he says.

He kisses you on the forehead and, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, he rests his face on your head, closing his eyes and absorbing the silence, a cautious silence, full of peace and fresh air.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes in turn and letting yourself be lulled by the peace and serenity found. You know that everything will be fine, that even if you’ll have other fights, you will always find a way to get back to each other.

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum imagine #calum x reader #calum hood x you #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton 5 seconds of summer #luke 5 seconds of summer #michael 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos

650 notes · View notes

after-witch · 3 years

Text

Sweet Escape [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Sweet Escape [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Escape isn’t easy. Nor is it very long-lasting. When Overhaul’s men drag you back into captivity, you brace yourself and wait for what your captor will do with you.

Word Count: 7,592

Notes: yandere, kidnapped, humiliation, degradation, mentions of eating disorder behavior, improper use of household cleaning products, Overhaul is a mean man 90% of this fic is just Overhaul being an asshole to you

There are going to be bruises on your shoulders. Fingerprint shaped bruises from the men holding you steady, afraid that you'll try to sprint off--maybe afraid that you'll try to spring at their boss, disobedient, unruly possession that you are.

You know that Overhaul won't like it when he eventually sees those black-and-blue fingerprints marring your skin--he might kill them for it, or worse. They're digging in too hard, but you don't warn them to ease up lest they find themselves on the wrong end of Overhaul's hands; they brought you back to this place, after all, and they deserve nothing but your hot, raw contempt.

You could run. You could slip out of their grip, if you put your mind to it. Your clothes are wet and the medical table that you're sitting on is slippery from the rainwater that's dripped out from your soaked clothes. But Chisaki Kai--no, Overhaul, you remind yourself, for the energy he’s exuding now is very much that of a foreboding boss--is standing in front of you, and you'd never make it to the doorway.

"Leave us," Overhaul says, not bothering to move as the men gripping your shoulders release their painful hold and swiftly leave the room. He tears off a sanitizing wipe from the ever-present canister on his desk and wipes down the doorknobs that they touched, before locking the door. An unnecessary precaution, given your nerves, given your state, given your realization that your escape attempt was a massive fluke that would never be allowed to happen again.

You numbly watch as he gathers up supplies from around the makeshift clinic he'd created in the small suite of rooms he allowed you to exist in. The canister of disinfectant. Medical-grade soaps. Sponges. A bucket. Needles, needles, needles... you remember the feel of the syringe you'd stolen in your hand and distract yourself from the fear of what he's going to do to you by retracing the steps of the past day.

You got farther than you thought you would--really, you did. At every stage of your plan, you expected Chisaki to suddenly reveal that he knew every step you'd taken so far. That he'd catalogued every act of false obedience to lure him into relaxing the rules, that he saw you swipe the syringe of tranquilizer from the clinic when he'd left for a moment to grab a fresh pair of clothes for you, that he knew you asked to sit with him at his desk only to sneak a glance at his calendar, so you could sweetly plead for an afternoon in the garden when he would be busy, when he would surely ask a highly trusted subordinate to watch over you.

A highly trusted subordinate who knew all about your weeks of good, sweet behavior and who was none the wiser when you'd jabbed him with the syringe, plunging the medicine, the same kind your captor once used to 'calm you down' when you were having fits, right into the man’s thigh.

You didn't hesitate: you'd dipped your hands into the man's pockets, pulled out his wallet and ran. You barely remember anything until you were in the forest--you vaguely remember using the key card to open the gates surrounding the base, you remember the fear that at any moment you would hear an alarm sound; but from there, everything was a blur as you sped into the forest wearing only the soft day shoes you'd been given to go outside.

You made it through the forest, though not without bumps and cuts and sore feet and a dimly throbbing ankle that was thankfully only turned. You ran until you reached a small town, one you'd never been in before. You buried your first instinct deep, deep, deep: do not contact the authorities. Who knows what connections Overhaul had, especially in a town so close to where he operated? So instead you waltzed into a little corner shop and made a beeline for the bathroom--where you promptly vomited out your breakfast as all of the anxiety and fear and adrenaline caught up with you in an instant.

You remember staring into the bathroom mirror afterwards, your face cold with splashed water. It was then, staring into your pale and anxious face, a face you hadn’t been allowed to see in a mirror for ages, that you felt freedom slamming back into you. You could do what you wanted, now. You were going to get your life back. You could make your own schedule and have your own hobbies back and eat what you wanted and--your stomach had gurgled, as if on cue. You had to get something to eat. But how would you pay?

The wallet you'd pilfered felt heavy in your pocket, and you opened it without a second thought. No cash. But a credit card. It would do, until you were able to get some cash of your own. You wandered back into the shop and even now, you can still feel how struck you were by how cozy, how nice, how different it felt. Just a small general store with big open windows and soft music in the background, and an old woman behind the register who immediately asked you if you needed any help finding this or that.

You smiled--a real smile, how nice that felt--and shook your head and loaded up a basket. A first-aid kit, a large water bottle, a toothbrush and toothpaste... then came the snacks. Candy. Chips. Soda. Things you hadn't tasted in so long. You even grabbed a pointless fashion magazine. The old woman had glanced at the name on the card and you offered a sheepish smile, a fake one that made you feel a pang of guilt for lying to her: "My boyfriend sent me to do the shopping. He's no good at this stuff." She'd smiled and nodded, oh I understand dear, before packing up your order.

You stepped out into the sunshine--you can't pretend like you remember how it feels, right now, shivering from the damp rain on this table--and took a deep breath of fresh air. It smelled crisp and sweet and clean. Not the sterile cleanliness of your captor's clinic, but truly pure--real. There was a slight tinge to the air, and you spotted grey clouds on the horizon. Not an omen, no: just another sign that you were outside, you were in nature, you were free. The smell was the promise of thunder, of electricity, of cool rain.

It also smelled like... well, lunch. Or more precisely, you smelled the vague scents of the little pizza shop a few shops down.

And here is where you made, looking back, your biggest mistake. You should have headed to a bus station. Or called for a taxi. You should have gotten the hell out of there right that second. But your mind flashed back to Overhaul's little calendar, the words printed neatly in the little square for today: he would be away until the evening, which meant you (surely, surely) had a few more hours before he came back and discovered your escape.

He’d ordered no one to bother you and your now-unconscious guard in the garden, so if no one saw you run out, then an alarm certainly wouldn’t raised for a while. You had time, didn't you? Time to grab a meal? You could always get it to go, and you could even ask an employee inside about buses or taxes. Yes, it was fine--you would get a few slices to go and hop on a bus and leave forever. More than that, it was practical. You needed energy, and the junk in your bag--while undoubtedly delicious--wasn't going to be enough to sustain you for long.

The door to the pizza place dinged when you entered, and you almost teared up at the normality of it. It was a buffet style place, with rows of pizzas under yellow-cast lights and rows of red booths and people lifting slices onto their plates with shared tongs. Unusual for a small town, but maybe it was a remnant from a more bustling time, when American-style pizza places were all the rage. For a moment, your thoughts had turned back to your captivity: Overhaul would have never set foot into a place like this--nor would he have let you. Germs, germs, everywhere. And you loved it.

You paid with the card, but there was no need for excuses this time--the young man behind the register didn't even check for a name or signature, much less ask for identification. You asked about a to-go box and he'd shrugged, mumbled out an apology--they didn't do that here. You have to eat inside.

For a moment, the rational part of your mind screamed: get the hell out of here, then! But your stomach growled, and hunger beckoned, and damn if that row of glistening pizza slices didn't make you want to eat. And eat. And… eat. You shoved repressed thoughts deep down, your heart hammering all the while, and took a tentative step towards the buffet. Thunder rumbled as you debated. You could be out of here in... 30 minutes? Enough time to eat--to binge, your mind whispered, you can now--and maybe get it out after? Yes, it would be fine. (It would not. Future you, the one sitting on the table and watching in increasing anxiety as Overhaul finishes up his tasks, wishes she could tell you.)

You should have seen the start of the rain, sudden and relentless, as a bad sign. Instead you ignored it and filled up a large cup with diet soda that spilled a little when you forgot to let go of the button. You ate without thinking, not even really enjoying the taste of the first greasy pizza slices you’d had in ages.

You were on your fifth slice when the restaurant doors dinged, but the sense of small town charm was overrun by the immediate realization that you were caught. You were fucked. The air thickened--were you the only one to notice?--as two men in slim suits entered the restaurant with an air of immediacy. You were spotted in a second, if that. You thought about running.

But then you thought about the bored teenager behind the register and the old man cutting up his wife's pizza slices because she had trouble chewing and the little girl stacking up pepperonis while her mom chatted on the phone and you resigned yourself. You didn’t want anyone else to get hurt…even if it meant giving in. You didn't struggle, couldn't struggle, and let them lead you swiftly outside where the torrent of rain soaked you immediately as they pushed you down the block, where an unmarked car waited. You glanced up helplessly as the cloudy sky and rain streamed down your face before you were unceremoniously pushed into the backseat.

Overhaul was sitting inside, staring at you with an intensity you've never seen before.

Your backpack drops with a thump next to you and you flinch out of your memories.

"Let's see what you bought with that stolen card during your little adventure." His voice is deceptively calm. He must be furious with you, you think. And you can't believe you didn't think about credit fraud alerts before you used the damn card.

The noise of the zipper is thunderous and you scoot yourself back on the exam table, pressing against the wall to put a little more room--even if it's only inches--between you and your captor. He begins to pull everything out of the bag, one by one, and seeing it all lined up makes it clear what type of lecture is coming.

A few bags of chips, a bottle of soda, bars of chocolate, all junk, junk, junk. All food he would never permit you to eat, and certainly not in such quantities.

"Disgusting," he murmurs, before tossing each item into a trash bin kept against the wall, one by one. You cringe at the sound of each bag, each bottle, hitting the bottom of the trash. You didn't even get to taste them. He stares at the trash, eyes narrowed, as if the food itself was worthy of his venom. "Full of unnecessary sugars and fats and oils. Eating so much of this will make you sick. We've talked about this."

You say nothing. You press your lips together. You won't give him the satisfaction of argument. You won't let him pretend like he has any right to lecture you on what you eat, and certainly not what you eat after you've escaped (however briefly) from his clutches.

"At least you didn't have time to ingest them during your ill-planned escape, hm?" He replaces his previous gloves--tainted with the thought of germs on the junk food bags, no doubt--and your stomach flips at the sound of the medical gloves he's snapped on in their place. "Which is more than I can say for the pizza." You never knew someone could say pizza with such a ridiculously nasty tone, but you've learned a lot of things during your captivity.

"You weren't content with this junk hoard," he says, gesturing towards the trash while keeping his eyes firmly on you. "You had to gorge yourself on greasy pizza from a dirty buffet, too? We are going to clean your mouth out, by the way.”

You hate the way he says gorge--you hate the way he says greasy--you hate the anxiety that comes with wondering what he’ll do to ‘clean’ your mouth. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. The hate makes you answer defensively, despite your earlier resolution to stay quiet. You can't help yourself, in a lot of ways.

"I was hungry," you say, still feeling defiant.

"No one working on their fifth slice of pizza is hungry," he answers, simply. You feel diminished, but not enough to shut you up.

"So? It's not your business what I eat anyway.” A familiar tightness is springing to your throat. You don't want to cry in front of him ever again, so you clip the words out, fighting to retain control.

He presses a fist to his forehead in a sudden, rather surprising show of frustration. "Not my business? Not my business? It's my business to take care of you. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out there?"

The fullness in your stomach, the cold rain soaking you, the remembrance of the wind and branches lashing at you as you ran hours before, all these freedoms have made you feel bold. Or maybe you're succumbing to the effects of an adrenaline crash and you just can't control your mouth.

"I could have been free. You can’t--you can't just keep me here. You can't just kidnap someone and decide you know what's best for them."

There's a long, steady pause as he stares at you. His expression--what you can see from his eyes--is blank, and you almost wonder if perhaps you've stumped him.

"I can," he says, lightly. Easily.

Fucker.

He sighs, and you get the distinct impression that you’re a nuisance, something to deal with, something he’s having to deal with instead of doing far more important things. "You’re showing a severe lack of appreciation for all the work I do to take care of you."

You don't know how to respond to that. "You kidnapped me.” It’s all you can think of--the bare truth.

He doesn't speak at first. Then he lifts something from the supply tray he's set up--a blue hospital gown, thin and short, and tosses it towards you. You catch it instinctively, feeling the thin, feather-light material in your fingers. He tosses a towel, next, and you hold it against your damp chest. He turns around.

"Change."

You don't want to. You don't want to. But you've never pressed your luck on what would happen if you refused to get dressed before, afraid that he might do it himself, and that fear overrides any thoughts of outright rebellion. For now. You slide off your wet clothes and push them towards the end of the table, then use the towel to dry off your skin. There are scratches and bruises, including a nasty looking one that's already turning green on your ankle. Your feet are swollen from running on the hard forest floor with your thin day shoes.

When you're finished, you clear your throat, and he turns back around. He tosses your wet clothes right into the trash--damn, you liked that shirt--and wipes off the table with a separate towel. You sit, legs dangling off the table, and wish he'd just get the punishment or examination or whatever it is he has planned over with. You can feel the coldness of the table through the medical gown, and its thinness makes you feel even more helpless. Weak. You want to retain that feeling of freedom that you had earlier in the day. Even choosing to return without a fight, choosing to avoid hurting the innocent people in that town, made you feel bold.

He stands in front of you until you force yourself to look up, to get it over with. He's swapped out his mask for a medical one.

"Have I ever hurt you?"

You hate this.

"No," you admit, voice tight. "Not physically," you add spitefully, because fuck him for trying to make himself sound like a decent person because he kidnapped you but didn't happen to hit you.

"Do I take care of you?" His tone is firm, commanding. It leaves no room for silences. Instead, it makes your stomach feel light, makes your heart feel like it wants to race.

"I can do that on my own," you counter.

"Can you?" He says, voice dripping in condescension.

"Yes," you spite, bile rising into your throat. "I can take care of myself."

He reaches back and grabs the little stool he keeps in this room, rolling it up to rest in front of the table and in front of you. He sits down and cups his hands together, resting them on his thigh. He leans forward. An easy gesture. Like he wants to have a conversation. But something about his movements sends out warning signals. Big, glaring, flashing warning lights that scream DANGER.

“You can take care of yourself.” It’s a statement, yet the way he says it is brutally mocking.

“I can,” you insist, your voice cracking just the slightest bit under his gaze.

"So, where would you live?" He watches you intently and it takes a moment for you to realize what he just asked you. He isn't offering you freedom, no. But maybe you can win an argument, just this once, and forcibly stop his delusions that he's "taking care of you."

"Anywhere," you say, but he looks unimpressed. "An apartment," you correct. "Like my old one. Doesn't have to be big." Your heart pangs with nostalgia for your old place, for your independence, for your life.

"Ah." Overhaul brings a gloved finger up to his chin and rests is there, nodding, as if he's seriously considering your words. "And how will you pay for rent at this apartment?"

You can't resist the snarky tone. "A job."

He rests both hands on his thighs. "Tell me, how much did you make at your last job, again? No--tell me, how long did you hold your last job?" You cross your arms defensively around your waist as he continues. "If I recall correctly, you were fired rather quickly from that one... and the one before."

You squeeze your waist, hoping for the tiniest bit of comfort from the gesture. "I... it wasn’t my fault.” You feel like you’re under a magnifying glass. “The first time. And the second, well, I was looking for something better, anyway."

He raises his eyebrows, curious. "Looking where? At the bottom of a bottle?"

Your entire body tenses.

"After all," he continues, voice almost taking on a syrupy sweet tone. "Your fridge was so well-stocked with them. Hmm. Do you think it's responsible to spend so much money on alcohol when you're behind on rent payments?"

"No," you say, voice tighter, "But--"

He doesn't give you a chance to finish. He stands, and you immediately squeeze your arms again. "And how much were you spending on other luxuries? Those clothes you kept carelessly shoved in your closet... they were a name brand, weren't they?"

Your throat is dry and your mouth is dry and you lick your lips. "There were sales," you insist.

"Ohh," he says, his voice lifting in mockery. "And I bet there were sales on the jewelry, the trinkets, the--" his eyes drift upwards, an implication of his disdain, "--figurines."

You lift your chin in defiance. "I'm allowed to buy things that I like."

He begins to pace. Not aimlessly, no, nothing with him is ever aimless. He paces until he stops in front of you, turning to face you for effect.

"What happens if you're late on three rent payments? Remind me of the policy that decrepit building you called an apartment complex had."

You squirm on the table. "I was only behind on two--"

"What happens?" His voice is firm. You can't avoid it.

There's a pause before you murmur, unwillingly. "You get evicted."

"So." He takes another step, and turns back towards you. "Do you think it's responsible to spend money you don't have on luxuries, when you're behind on rent?"

You want to run. Maybe you should have run at him earlier. Getting tossed into a solitary room after attacking him might be better than this interrogation.

"No," you admit. You swallow, dry and thick and a bit painful. "Okay. I'm not great with money. I bought things to make me happy because I was stressed out about---life. It's not that big a deal. I--I didn't get kicked out, anyway."

He sits again, but keeps himself upright, the air of faux casualness replaced with an air of command. "How did you catch up on your rent? Tell me."

You hate him. You stare at him, hoping he'll end this, but he simply stares at you until you blurt out the words. "You paid my landlord. Anonymously." You stare down at the floor, at the drops of water still there from earlier. "I didn't ask you to. I would have figured something out."

"I'm sure."

He stands, and you stare at the wall until you hear him roll the tray of supplies towards the table. Your body trembles of its own accord when he grabs your arm firmly and wraps a blood pressure cuff around the top. You sit in silence as the cuff gets tighter then mercifully deflates.

He tsks at the number, and jots it down on the pad resting on the table. For once, you're not tempted to peek.

"I need to take some blood," he says, and you stick out your arm in automatic, habitual compliance before your brain even realizes it. He grips your wrist firmly while he swipes your arm with an anti-bacterial agent.

"How much do you weigh?" He asks suddenly, voice nonchalant.

You stare at him, incredulous. He's never brought up weight before. He’s always been careful to avoid details about weight, nutrition--calories. The most he would do is point out that you need a well-rounded diet with the right vitamins and nutrients, and ignore your questions about sauces and cooking oils and grams, all attempts to find out something that could give you an ounce of control over what’s going into your body.

"I--I don't know. You don't let me look at the scale when I step on it." He knows this. He knows that he's forbidden you from seeing the number, because he knows about your past, knows your tendency to get obsessive and strict and focus on food and weight and worth.

"Why don't I let you look at the scale?"

Your stomach feels like it's twisting.

"I don't know." The lie is bitter on your tongue.

The casual tone in his voice when he replies is far more biting than any cruel insult. "Yes, you do."

His words are punctuated by the harsh medicinal smell of the next wipe. But you're in no mood to appreciate that he's still choosing to numb your skin despite your earlier transgressions.

The tears you felt building earlier begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You don't want to cry, you don't want to cry, you don't want to cry.

“Why don’t I let you look at the scale?” He repeats, firmer, more insisting. He winds a band around your arm and taps at your veins.

Your arm looks fatter, like this. You swear it does. You look away to avoid your arm and the needle and his gaze.

“Because, um, I sometimes have problems with food. Or weight. Or whatever.”

“You have an eating disorder,” he tells you, all business as he plunges the needle into your skin; there’s only the ghost of a sting as he begins to slowly draw your blood. But you barely feel it, you can only feel the impact of his words, blunt and hateful.

"You were going to throw up in that germ-infested hovel. Eat until your stomach was distended, then head into a bathroom--which I'm sure the staff hadn't cleaned in ages--and stick your unwashed, greasy fingers down your throat until it all came back up. Am I correct?"

You can't tell if you feel woozy because of the needle or the way that your heart is racing at his words. Throw up. Greasy. Disgusting. You're disgusting.

"Stop it," you say, voice muddled with humiliation and anger.

He pulls the needle out, and quickly presses a bandage to your skin. He keeps a finger there, firm and pressing. He looks up at you, now, as he continues his onslaught.

"And then what? Let me make an educated guess. You were going to get on some filthy bus and open up all the junk you bought earlier? Perhaps," he muses, as he rips off a piece of tape to keep the gauze in place, "you could have asked the bus driver to stop at a public bathroom for a vomit break. And you'd probably make sure that whatever flea-ridden hotel you found along the way had a scale in the bathroom so you could keep track. And another one of your delightful," he practically spits the word out, "cycles would have started, hm?"

"Stop it," you repeat, voice breaking. "I wasn't--I wouldn't have--"

"You were going to," he says simply, interrupting. "Thankfully, we got there in time. Although I'm sure now you will endure a stomach ache after your reckless indulgence. A lesson, perhaps, though not the exact one I would inflict myself."

As if on cue, your stomach rolls and clenches. You’re keenly aware that you’re going to have digestive problems tonight, and the thought of being at his mercy while you’re dealing with them threatens to send you over the edge. Could you get even more disgusting? The thought of how you look right now, stomach no doubt bulging, hair disheveled and damp, covered in ugly bruises and cuts--combined with the fear of spending the night on a toilet sends you over the edge.

You press your knuckles against your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut and try to force the sobs down. Your body begins to tremble, even more so as he lifts your leg. Without warning, he begins to unceremoniously scrub it down with a sponge dipped in disinfectant.

It stings and your eyes feel like they might pop at the sudden pain. You hiss at the feeling of the liquid on your cuts and try to pull away, to no avail. Your legs feel like jelly in his grip.

“That hurts,” you whine.

“It can’t be helped,” he tells you, holding your leg firmly as he scrubs the sore bottom of your feet. Any sensitivity you had there is overruled by the soreness and pain from running, from the stinging aches that remain in your cuts. “I have to clean every cut or you may get an infection.”

He sets your leg down and lifts up the other, and you cringe before he even begins to move. You can’t help but whimper as he scrubs your leg, and the helpless stings of pain only increase when he moves on to your arms.

“Please,” you say, feeling low, nearly flattened. “I can’t… I can’t take this.”

He pauses, and the seemingly genuine concern in his eyes (it’s not, you remind yourself, it’s not--you think of the shop and the pizza place and the old man cutting his wife’s food, that was concern, that was care) has you feeling sorry for yourself.

“The stinging will go away in a few minutes. You chose to run away, you can certainly deal with this minor consequence.” He retains his grip on your upper arm and he swipes the sponge across your shoulders, briefly pushing the fabric aside as he does so. He pauses when he sees the blooming fingerprints on your shoulders, but says nothing. You wonder if those men will survive the night.

There’s a a cut, thin and long, dragging from your collarbone down across your chest. He dips unceremoniously below the gown, touching you in a spot he normally avoids. The feeling of him so close, touching you--not quite on your chest, but close enough--only intensifies your humiliation. You whimper again and try to pull away, but his grip offers no room to move.

“I can’t--” You don’t finish. Your throat is so tight and you hate it, you hate that you can never talk about anything with him, never argue with him without clamming up with tears and a thick throat.

You bring your hands up to your hair, tugging on it until it prickles. Your breath starts to come in short bursts, your chest having as you pull on your hair and will yourself to be anywhere but here. For a flashing moment, you wish you’d never tried to escape. If you didn’t, you’d be getting ready for bed right now. Things would be--not okay. Never okay. But you wouldn’t be here, on this table, cold and stinging and in pain and utterly despondent from having your failures shoved in your face. But then you remember that if he’d never kidnapped you, you wouldn’t have had to try to escape in the first place, and the wish fades.

He remains silent, and instead simply keeps a steady, firm grip on your upper arm until your breath slows, until you can control yourself. Your skin feels at once numb and prickling in anxiety and adrenaline and emotions coursing through you.

Overhaul gives your arm a squeeze that is, perhaps, meant to be reassuring. “Are you suitably recovered?

You nod. Your stomach feels sour. You want to ask if you’re done, if you can just go sleep or get sent (you dread the idea) to solitary confinement or whatever it is he has planned in the wake of your escape. Anything would be better than this room and this soft, thin gown and his bright blue surgical gloves and your failure hanging in the air.

He extends his arm out and you pause for a moment before you grasp it, holding tight as you get off the table and stand on wobbly legs. You’re loathe to touch him, but you’re even more loathe to fall flat on your face on the hard floor.

He speaks before you get a chance to ask if you can change out of the medical gown.

“Now, we’ll go to the bathroom.”

Your knees suddenly feel like they might drop out from under you. “The bathroom?”

He nods, and pulls himself away from your weak grip as he begins walking towards the door. You follow without thinking, pausing when he stops to slide his medical gloves into the trash before slipping on another pair.

“We’re not finished here,” he tells you, and you swear his voice is almost giddy as he turns his head to meet your questioning face. “I told you earlier, we’re going to clean your mouth out.”

He can’t mean--

You take a step back, and your knee buckles. He’s quick--he catches you before you fall, but doesn’t let go. His pulls you upright and pulls you along. Your legs have no choice to walk--walk or be dragged--and you struggle for words as he leads you out of the clinic. Before you know it, you’re back in your room (familiar, warm, the same as it ways this morning) and led swiftly into the attached bathroom.

He pulls you in far enough that he’s able to shut the door behind him, trapping you inside. As if you wouldn’t be trapped by his mere presence. For a moment you wonder if he was bluffing, trying to scare you into submission, but by the time you take another breath he’s running the sink water and tearing into a new box of bar soap.

Your voice catches as you finally speak up. “You--you can’t be serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not serious?” He doesn’t even face you as he speaks. Instead, he turns on the tap and fills a paper cup with water before setting it on the sink’s edge. Next comes the bar of white soap, which grows slick underneath the water. He turns off the tap and lets the excess water drip off, before turning to you, soap bar in hand.

“Open your mouth.”

Your lips press together automatically, and you shake your head. No, no, and no. This isn’t happening.

He sighs, and again the feeling that you’re annoying him creeps under your skin. Why does it bother you that you’re annoying him? It shouldn’t bother you at all, but somehow you feel a pang of regret at how much has changed in less than 24 hours.

“If you don’t open your mouth willingly, I will open it for you.” He takes a step closer, but your legs feel heavy now, rooted to the spot. It isn’t like there’s anywhere you could run, anyway. “I don’t want to do that,” he continues, voice slightly softened. “Cooperate and open your mouth.”

What choice do you have? You could protest, you could argue, you could leap into the bathtub and make him fight for what he wants. You could keep your mouth shut tight and force him to find a solution. But he is stronger than you, in more ways than one, and he would get his way in the end.

So you make the only choice available to you. Your entire mouth shakes and seems to fight against you as you slowly open your lips in compliance. You feel stupid, standing here with your mouth hanging open.

You can’t reflect on the feeling for long, as he wastes no time in shoving the bar inside your open lips. You can’t help but whimper at the intrusion, but he doesn’t let up and begins methodically scrubbing at your tongue. At first, there’s no taste--then the built-up slick of clinical soap makes itself known, and you take advantage of the soap slipping out of your lips to press them together again, denying him entry.

“Open,” he orders, soft and firm.

And you do, heaving your shoulders in an unreleased whimper. What else can you do but listen? He continues to scrub, this time moving the bar into the side of your mouth to scrub at your teeth. The clammy, greasy feeling of soap coating your teeth makes you curl your wide open lips downward. You must look ridiculous, in all respects, lips gaping in an unpleasant frown as your captor mercilessly soaps the inside of your mouth.

“Do you not like the taste?” His eyes glance over at your frown, and the mockery in his tone is more than blatant.

“Uhh-uhh,” you mumble, open-mouthed, shaking your head. The position you’re in--Overhaul scrubbing into your mouth, your shaking body, the dim feeling of your bruises and cuts from earlier--makes you feel so painfully exposed. So painfully helpless.

He hums and rests the soap against your tongue. Before you can attempt to move your tongue, lessen the feeling of the taste of the soap against it, he gives you a command.

“Bite down.”

Your teeth sink into the soft bar, keeping it in place, and your whimpers grow stronger at the humiliating order you’ve just obeyed. Could you sink any lower?

You watch him through tear-brimmed eyes as he moves to stand in front of you. You know what’s coming before he even speaks and when he does, it’s no surprise.

“Have I ever hurt you?”

Back to this, again.

You shake your head, mumble around the soap: “No.”

“Are you capable of being on your own?”

You hesitate, and he merely jumps to another question, one far more pointed.

“Have you held a single job for longer than a year?”

You want to protest, but any attempt at complicated speech is marred by the soap--the weight of it, the taste, and your need to keep it steady in your mouth.

“No,” you admit, hating the feel of the bar as your lips press against it with the effort of speech.

“Would you have been evicted if I didn’t pay off your debts?”

“Yes.” Tears sting at your eyes. You want to wipe them away but you’re afraid you’ll get soap in them, somehow.

“Are you responsible enough with money to hold a job, maintain an apartment, and buy yourself the necessities for life without someone else stepping in?”

The soap somehow tastes even more bitter. “No, I can’t.” Your tongue pushes up against the soap at this, and you resolve to keep it to one-word answers only.

“If we didn’t intercept your little outing, would you have attempted to throw up at that restaurant today?”

You shake your head, but it’s a lie, and you know it’s a lie--and he knows it’s a lie. So you nod, weakly. “Mm-hmm.”

“Have I been feeding you healthy meals? Have I been ensuring that you don’t engage in disgusting self-destructive behaviors?”

He has, but that’s not--your mind wants to argue, but you’re so tired and sick and your stomach hurts and the taste of the soap is too much. So you nod, instead.

He nods in response, and you pray that he’ll take the soap out and end this. Instead, he lifts your chin with a single finger, making you keep eye contact as he speaks.

“Do I take care of you?”

“Yes,” you cry out, your words garbled around the wet soap bar. He releases your chin and it’s these words, this final question, that make you break entirely. Your shoulders ache from bruises as you cry, hunching over slightly and watching as some drool-laden soap droplets fall on the floor. “Yes, yes, yes,” you repeat, mechanically, crying around the bitter soap that’s digging into your front teeth.

Satisfied, he takes hold of the bar and waits for you to release it, then tosses it with ease into the trash. You blubber and spit, only succeeding in releasing a trail of soapy drool down your chin. Your tears are hot and stinging as they roll down your cheeks. You open your mouth, you try to say something, but all that comes out is soft cries punctuated by your attempts to spit out the soapy film.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, bringing a gloved hand up to your cheek and wiping at the tears. “My poor thing. You can’t even speak. You can’t even articulate yourself. How could you ever hope to make it on your own?” His words are soft and cruel and you merely cry harder, humiliated and helpless.

Your throat is sore. Your stomach hurts. You want your warm nightgown on. You want to be in bed. You wish your stomach didn’t hurt so much from eating junk. You wish you weren’t covered in cuts and bruises. You wish you’d just enjoyed the garden and went back inside. You wish you’d never done this at all. You’re so stupid. You’re so stupid.

And you finally say so, all of it, blubbering, bits of soapy drool dribbling out of your mouth as you cry and admit your faults out loud.

After your wrought-out apology dissolves into meaningless whimpers, Overhaul finally grabs the glass of water he set on the edge of the sink, and you gratefully swish the lukewarm liquid with earnest. You lean over the sink and spit, body trembling, then fill the cup again and repeat the gesture again and again to get rid of every bit of white soap stuck in your mouth. Even as you spit, you realize that the taste isn’t going to be completely gone anytime soon--it’s stuck in your mouth like a bad memory.

You jerk when his hands are suddenly on your back, rubber gloves sliding up and down the thin medical gown covering your cold, helpless body. But he merely keeps rubbing, gentle and soothing, while you swish and spit, and cry and cry.

His hands leave your back only to grab a washcloth from the built-in shelves across from the toilet. You watch as he wets the cloth and you stand silently, allowing him to wipe up the drool and soap from your chin, your neck, even a bit on your chest where it dribble-dropped downward.

When you’re all cleaned up, he fills up a cup with mouth wash and silently hands it to you. You gratefully swish it for as long as possible before spitting it into the sink. The soap taste is still there, but lessened somewhat by the overpowering mint of the mouthwash. He gestures to your toothbrush and you pick it up, and begin mechanically brushing your teeth, stopping when the 2-minute timer flashes on the bottom. You instinctively grab your floss without having to be told and make quick work of that, too.

He opens the door to the bathroom, but gestures for you to wait. You do, standing numbly, wishing that he let you have a mirror so you could see your own state. But he doesn’t, and you can’t, and so you wait until he returns with a bundle in his arms.

It’s your pajamas. A soft, pink nightgown--he didn’t pick the soft blue one, tonight, and you’re grateful to avoid any reminders of the medical gown you have on--with matching socks and underwear. You nod and accept the bundle meekly. He turns around and you make quick work of the medical gown, tossing it in the trash yourself before you get dressed for bed.

“M’done,” you mumble, though you quickly realize speaking makes the lingering soap taste stronger. You follow him silently out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, which is just as you left it that morning. The only thing different is you. Subdued, humiliated, helpless.

Overhaul pulls the cover on your bed and you sit down, numb and chastened. You pull your legs up and tuck them under the soft comforter. You’re forcing yourself into the routine you’ve been following for the past few weeks, but the secret thrill you once had of obeying with ulterior movies is no longer there. It’s been replaced by a heavy stillness, the knowledge that you failed in more ways than one. The occasional roll of your stomach reminds you that the night may not be over, bedtime routine be damned.

But you ignore it for now, and you lean your head back on your pillow as he pulls the comforter towards your shoulders, tucking you in. Rather than leave immediately, he sits next to you on the bed, looking down at you with an obsessive, possessive expression in his eyes.

You force down an instinctive flinch when he suddenly begins to stroke the top of your forehead, moving up to pet your hair softly. His gloves are gone. While not completely new, it’s rare--rare enough that the feeling of his bare fingers is still an unusual sensation.

You close your eyes. It usually makes him leave faster. Your heart begins to pound as you hear him stand, as you sense him leaning in, as you feel the ghost of his breath against your face.

“Sweet dreams. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

What a silly thing to say, you think. Your dreams are never sweet anymore.

#yandere overhaul #yandere chisaki kai #yandere #yandere x reader #overhaul x reader #afterwitch writes #uhh I added 2000 words in between last night and now

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tartagilicious · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐈 - 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒; i genuinely believe this is what will put me at my lowest point. i am psychotic. slightly embarrassed to post this. i literally spent a day doing nothing more than studying the dynamic of a fictional couple with four scenes together. is this who i am?? is this what i was made for?? anyways, love talking to people about this movie and pretending that i like it a normal and socially acceptable amount. i really felt like these characters were glossed over, and fair, i know the writers probably didn't expect them to be so popular, but now we're left with the damage of 2,500 years of blank space, so let me map out my interpretation of their relationship for you! i hope this series is renewed so i can make a second part of this post in 3+ years (●'◡'●) if i don't go crazy first.

✧･ﾟ: if you have any of your own thoughts, or simply want to add commentary, you’re more than welcome to add them in the replies! this will be updated if we get any new additional information/my understanding changes <3

✧･ﾟ: major spoilers for the eternals movie ahead!!

𝟏.𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

-> in babylon, 500BC, is when we're first introduced to the cast. they're all seen doing different things in this build-up, but one thing i noticed is how druig and makkari were almost always together in these scenes. after reading the comic “eternals: 500 year war” (which is available for free on webtoon!) the assumption of them being something close to partners could be made. there’s kind of an extra layer of flirtation there, seen from the way they interact he addresses her as “the beautiful makkari” — though, at this point, i personally would chalk it up to that mostly being their dynamic at that point

-> i’d like to say that they loved each other then but 🧍🏼‍♀️ it was probably more of a friendship kind of love, and more likely just crushes that they had been sitting on for thousands of years. ofc, we don’t know anything about their past tho!!! they only had four scenes together!! >:’)

-> aside from that, taking into account this period of time, it seems as though makkari is really the one he sticks to. and when remembering their partner-like relationship, this makes sense.(ex: when introduced, when thena first lost control, when druig was arguing with the others about what to do with the village, essentially every scene in the flashback)

-> honestly, this point is arguable, but i think it's important that the first time he controlled people in the show because of a conflict, it was when people were fighting in front of him and makkari. not only does he listen to her when she touches him to stop, but he thinks nothing of it and jokes back at her. despite the difference in scale to the other main conflict in mind controlling people, druig still has a deep-rooted trauma associated with letting humans fight in front of him no matter what. had someone else been in her shoes, i guarantee he would've been a lot less yielding and would have likely gone further.

-> and forgetting the fact that druig is honestly, generally unpleasant to be around, he seems so considerate with her! he notably stops to listen to what she has to say, and vice versa.

-> something i really wish they would've done, though, is highlight what happened after ajak "set them free". there had to have been a goodbye of sorts. i genuinely can't see makkari as someone who would leave the situation as it, esp knowing that it left someone she cares about really hurt.

-> i personally think that leaves a good chunk of space for her to speed after him, maybe say their goodbyes? hell, maybe she even spent some time with him for a bit in her travels around the world. that might be just me though LMAO. either way, i think this 2,500 year period definitely has some secrets hidden in it 👀

𝟐. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘

-> ok!! i haven't seen someone say this yet and i need confirmation. maybe this is reaching, but was he nervous to talk to her again? was he wandering around looking to pick up something else just so he could have an excuse to talk to her? it was really cute how that item ended up being the same emerald tablet druig knew she was searching for before, though D: i was surprised that he saw it and immediately made the connection.

-> the transition from "the beautiful makkari" to "my beautiful makkari" is really important here ;-; but, hear me out, i don't think it's entirely romantic either. referencing back to the hypothetical (and tbh realistic possibility) of a goodbye, it would also make sense in that context that she's "his beautiful makkari" as in, his only makkari, that he made a promise to return to so long ago and has finally honoured. i that makes any sense at all. ofc, it also is flirty as hell and that should be acknowledged.

-> also, i know that she can't hear the way he whispers, "did you miss me?" but it's the way he whispered it that gets me. it was so full of feeling and wonder, and he was looking straight into her eyes. you can't tell me he wasn't starstruck. please.

-> i mean, we're pretty much all in agreement that there’s some loving feelings there are this point, right? but when and why did this happen? personally, i think the separation was enough to strengthen the feelings that were already there. it makes sense, too, judging by the way he just went for it like that. druig is probably attempting to make up for some sort of lost time, or maybe even trying to pick up where they left off -- because seeing her has obviously ignited some sort of past feelings.

-> do i think it could've been done better? yeah. a little clarification might've sufficed, but whatever, because it still shows that the two characters care about each other. the flirty comments just go largely unexplained, so we’re left to assume.

-> but, we can't forget that druig is just generally a serious guy. even if he's thrilled to see makkari again, he's still not completely in good graces with everyone, and also wants to hurry up with the plan -- hence a lack of scenes from then on.

𝟑. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇

-> *keysmash* *rips out hair* *shakes fist at sky* *falls to ground in fetal position* this was so beautifully done. og my gof. when she goes vocal for the first time just to scream when ikarus throws druig into the ground? chef's kiss. they've just reunited after thousands of years, and suddenly she's led to believe that he was taken away from her. if you think about it, it's even more sad, considering the fact that they may be the only one the other person truly had. they were both in isolated roles after being "set free", with druig leading a mind controlled village for centuries, and makkari staying on the ship for that same amount of time. when they came back to, nothing had really changed between them, while the others had developed complicated relationships with the outside world.

-> i think the cinematographers did a really good job with the lighting in this scene. the sunset hitting his back as he showed up out of nowhere, suddenly alive and walking right towards makkari? really nice. and, there’s no hesitation here either. this man that is unpleasant and pretty much eternally pissed off, literally grins as he walks up to her and sways her in his arms. wtf. i'm know i'm weak for the "i hate everyone but her trope", but oh my god?????/ and it's a tight hug too. like, i used this edit as a reference when writing this section, and you can see it!! it’s so heartfelt i am literally decomposing just looking at it.

-> and, obviously, the forehead touch. the whisper of "it's okay, i'm okay." that's so blatantly loving i don't even have to explain it. this whole section is just me gushing. the way they're staring at each other while doing this is also so adorable and telling.

-> and honestly, i thought about this last point for a while. yall are gonna laugh at me because i genuinely agonised over this LMAO ...i don't think this means they're a couple yet. i think mostly, the emotions in this scene come from almost losing someone who has could be more to you. they obviously have feelings for one another, but have never acted on more than flirting.

-> the hug symbolises a change in their relationship, maybe the new willingness to break down boundaries to get there? i think this is done purposefully, because obviously they expect to be making a second movie, and from there it will show how they develop into an actual couple. this is only the beginning of their journey and their story.

-> if you need me i'll be waiting impatiently for them to kiss LMAO

tldr; they’re partner-like friends who have always loved each other in one way or another, open in a flirty way. then reuniting after 2,500 years is essentially a new beginning, and druig’s near-death experience is likely what they need to realise that the kind of love they feel for each other may not be entirely as they expected.

#wake up babe new emotional support couple just dropped #the eternals #eternals spoilers #marvel eternals #druig #makkari #drukari #druig and makkari #character analysis

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dessarious · 3 years

Text

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt5

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They ate mostly in silence with Ladybug refusing to look at any of them. The Kwami were all cuddled up against her obviously trying to offer emotional support. Every time she managed to calm herself down Selina would look over at the girl and her rage would build up again. She was going to have to find an outlet for it in order to stay here.

“So why haven’t you asked for help from the European Justice League?” The full body flinch she got in response gave her a target for that rage. She mumbled something that Selina couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“I don’t think they believed anything was happening. Eventually they just told me that if I couldn’t handle butterflies I shouldn’t consider myself a hero. They had real problems to deal with.” Oh she was definitely sicking Bruce on those idiots once she figured out what was going on. “In their defense once I cast my cure there’s no visible damage so unless one of them had been here during an attack it really doesn’t seem real.” Great, now she was making excuses for heroes who absolutely should know better.

“I don’t care what they thought, that’s unacceptable behavior. You mentioned something about others that were helping you?” She flinched and curled in on herself.

“You should tell them. Plagg’s right, I think they can help.” Most of the other Kwami looked surprised at Tikki’s words. Ladybug somehow just seemed to get smaller.

“Kiddo, the three of us are the last to judge, trust me. We just want to help.” Harley’s voice was gentle and the girl peeked at her before looking back at her hands. Plagg flew up to her shoulder and was whispering in her ear. Eventually she took a deep breath and pulled her knees into her chest.

“At first it was just Chat Noir and me. It was okay for a while. He was always goofing around and flirting but he was there. But things happened and he didn’t want there to be secrets even though it was for our own safety. The Guardian chose what information we got when and he trusted me more than he did Chat, especially the more he pushed. He let me choose temporary holders and that just pissed Chat off more. He started becoming unreliable. Not showing up to fights, spending patrols trying to convince me to reveal my identity. Then he revealed himself to the other holders and got them to do the same. I refused and he convinced the others that I wasn’t trustworthy. I had to take his Miraculous. Too many people knew who he was. After that I couldn’t use any of the others even if they had been willing and I didn’t know anyone else I could trust. Then the Guardian… he got sick and turned his responsibilities over to me. So now I use whichever Miraculous I need for any given battle.”

“And what about your living situation?” She shook her head but it seemed more like an automatic reaction than an answer.

“That could compromise my identity.” Plagg and Tikki both flew in front of her face with their arms crossed.

“You need to tell them. Keeping your identity from Chat and the others was necessary and as we’ve seen showed good instincts on your part, but this is different.” Tikki’s voice sounded encouraging but strained. Their worry was obvious.

“But-”

“No buts Kit.” Plagg pointed to Selina. “She’s one of mine and there’s no malice toward you in any of them. We’re done watching you suffer alone. Not to mention you haven’t had a chance to breathe in months let alone grieve properly.” Selina shared a confused look with the other two. Plagg referring to her as theirs was odd but she was more worried about the grieving comment. Tears welled in Ladybug’s eyes and she shook her head again.

“I can’t.” The words were choked and the rest of the Kwami cuddled further into the girl while Plagg and Tikki just looked at each other.

“Will you let us tell them?” She hunched in further on herself but before she could say anything Tikki let out a string of what sounded like curses. Selina had no idea what language it was in. “There’s an Akuma.” Ladybug let out a tired breath.

“What time is it?”

“School just started. Which one do you think it is this time?” Plagg’s snark just got annoyed noises from all the Kwami. Ladybug stood and started towards the window. “Kit you’re not transformed.”

“Oh right.” Tikki disappeared and there was another flash of light around the girl.

“Why don’t we go with you? I’d like to see exactly what’s going on.” She frowned in thought.

“If you want, but I need you to stay back and not interfere. It’s bad enough trying to keep the others out of harm's way and I really don’t have the energy to look after anyone else and still defeat the Akuma.” As soon as she said it she was out the window.

“What do you think she meant by others?” Harley sounded like she had a guess at the answer, but wanted someone to give her a different one.

“I have a bad feeling that her former help are still trying to pretend they’re heroes. That or they’re actively trying to sabotage her. Or possibly both.” Given what had been said about Chat Noir, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“We should head out and find a good vantage point.” Ivy was just staring out the window but it seemed like she was looking inward.

“I just need to grab my jacket. And for now we respect her wish for no interference, unless it’s a matter of life and death for her, agreed?” Harley and Ivy both gave a nod but neither looked happy about it. Ten minutes later, as they stood on a roof watching Ladybug taking hits for a bunch of idiots who wouldn’t leave the area, Selina wasn’t either. As soon as the fight was over they moved in closer to see what the morons had to say for themselves.

“Looking a bit ragged there M’Lady. Are you ready to admit you were wrong yet? All I want is an apology and a reveal and things can go back to the way they were.” Selina had to grab Harley to stop her from lunging at the boy who spoke but Ladybug shot him a flat look.

“Go back to what exactly? You refusing to respect my boundaries and throwing tantrums during a fight, or you just not showing up at all?” The boy sputtered indignantly and she turned to leave but a different one, the one who’d been possessed started yelling at her.

“Aren’t you even going to ask what upset me so much I got Akumatized? You used to actually care about people.” Ladybug just crossed her arms and waited. “Someone I thought was my friend just moved away without telling anyone! Can you believe that?” That just brought a confused look from the hero as she scanned the others assembled. For some reason that seemed to annoy the girl more. “Marinette! She just up and left without telling anyone!”

“I’m sorry, did you all just now notice she was gone?” Disbelief was the main thing in her tone, but there was hurt there as well.

“What do you mean just now? Don’t act like it’s our fault she decided to bail on her friends.” Ladybug was just staring at all of them like they’d lost their minds.

“Some friends considering it took you six months to notice she was missing in the first place.” There was a blonde girl leaning against a nearby building that Selina would swear wasn’t there a minute about.

“She’s not missing. Her parents sold their business and the family moved.” The blonde looked like she was going to fire back but Ladybug spoke first.

“Believe what you want, you always do. This is not something I’m going to stand here and argue about. I’m sorry you feel hurt but there’s nothing I can do to help the situation.” She tried to leave again.

“Wait!” The blond practically jogged up to her. “I need to speak with you, alone.” Ladybug hesitated. “Please, it’s important.” The hero searched the girls face for a moment before giving a small nod. The others immediately started shouting at her so she grabbed the other girl and headed to a nearby roof. They followed silently and Selina watched as they both stood awkwardly.

“So what do you need to talk to me about Chloe?” There was a wariness to Ladybug's tone and stance, almost like she expected to be yelled at or attacked. The other girl just seemed nervous.

“A couple things. You knew Marinette was missing, do you know where she is?” Ladybug’s entire body tensed up at the question and Chloe saw it. “I’m not asking you to tell me I just… I just want to know if she’s okay. The police are refusing to look for her, claiming she went to live with relatives out of the country even though her passport hasn’t been used, and she hasn’t touched her back accounts since the day after…” She trailed off, obviously not wanting to finish the thought.

“How do you know she hasn’t… you’ve been using your father’s accounts to check the police progress haven’t you?” She just gave a sheepish shrug. “Why? You hated Marinette.” Chloe flinched.

“No I didn’t. We were rivals sure, and I was overall a bitch yes, but I never hated her. We were just so different and… I mean you’ve met my parents. I was taught from a young age that I was above everyone else and that they should be grateful for my notice. Mari… I couldn’t understand for the longest time why she stood up to me. I know it sounds stupid and I can’t really explain it better.” She sounded frustrated but it actually seemed to calm Ladybug down for some reason. “Look, I understand why she wouldn’t want to come back to school. Those ungrateful peasants made her life a living hell, but it’s like she completely dropped off the face of the earth. I can’t even imagine what losing both her parents in an accident like that must have done to her.”

“She’s okay. She just didn’t want to be sent out of Paris, or put into the system.” It didn’t sound like a lie but Ladybug was refusing to look the other girl in the eye for some reason. Chloe was just frowning in thought.

“If you see her again… tell her I can help if she wants. I know I’m probably the last person she wants to deal with but if she needs a place to stay no questions asked, I’m offering. Daddy has a few judges that owe him favors as well so we can probably get her emancipated so she can at least get to her money without worrying about someone tracking her and putting her somewhere she doesn’t want to be.” Ladybug nodded but from her position Selina could see her fighting back tears. “The other thing I wanted to talk about…”

“Yes?” Chloe still hesitated. She looked worried.

“That comment Adrien made, about you looking ragged… he wasn’t wrong.” Ladybug curled in on herself and Chloe panicked. “I’m not say it as a criticism! Ever since those rejects abandoned you it’s obvious things have been getting worse. I don’t know what you home situation is like but it’s kind of obvious it’s less than great.”

“If you’re going to try and convince me to give you a Miraculous-”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. I just… here.” She pushed something into the hero’s hand and Ladybug just looked at it in confusion.

“What…” Chloe cleared her throat nervously.

“I had part of my floor renovated into a sort of efficiency apartment. That key is to get in through the balcony. The door that leads to the rest of my suite has multiple locks, including bolts that go into the floor that can only be accessed from the inside.” Ladybug blinked at her, not seeming to process what the girl said. “It’s a safe place… if you need it.” There was a long pause then Ladybug lurched forward, pulling the other girl into a hug.

“Thank you.” The words were soft, almost inaudible, but the emotion behind them was heartbreaking.

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Ko-Fi

Tags

@asrainterstellar @scorchdragon88 @arty-shadow-morningstar @toodaloo-kangaroo @solangelo252 @smolplantmum @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #allthesalt #class salt #marinette dupain cheng #Selina Kyle #Harley Quinn #Poision Ivy #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #Gotham Sirens #Mom Squad

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flusteredloser · 3 years

Text

subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny. now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour.

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics. mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep. you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together. but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further. speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later.

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.”

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.” you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory.

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket.

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall.

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door.

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.”

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.”

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature.

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev.

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you... absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her.

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys.

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself.

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers.

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering?

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile.

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected.

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach.

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings.

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer.

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?”

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often.

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev.

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair.

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window?

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time.

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side, placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

238 notes · View notes

dasywritingblog · 3 years

Text

CRUSH AT THE PREMIER

Scarlett Johansson x reader

Words: 2356

SCARLETT P.O.V.

I'm driving to a caffe down the street to meet up with my longest time best friend (y/n) and as usual I forgot my phone, why everytime I have to meet with (y/n) I get so nervous and forget even my name? Well maybe it is because I have a major crush on her since, how can I say it, well forever probably is the word I'm searching for.

Waking up from my thoughts I park the car and rush to the enter where I see (y/n) impatiently checking her phone.

(Y/N): Where the hell were you? I called you something like five times I thought you were dead!

She says hugging me, I chuckle nervously and hug her back.

SCARLETT: I may or may not have forgotten my phone at home, but anyway is nice to see you too miss finesse.

(Y/N): Oh come on Scarly don't turn into a good girl now.

I blush at this statement and try to hide it laughing and pushing her throward the door.

SCARLETT: Take that fine ass of yours inside I need for my coffee.

(Y/N): Yes ma'am!

We sit at a table and we start talking about what happened in the past month since we didnt have much time to hang up cause we have been super busy with work. I told her everything I could about what happened on the set of Avengers Endgame: funny story, some bloopers and some spoilers as well, but nothing too big since neither I know whats going on in that movie, yep Marvel is very good at keeping secrets.

(Y/N): When is the premier Scarly?

SCARLETT: Tomorrow night and actually I wanted to ask you something about that

My hands got sweaty and I started to panic. What if she says no or she finds out I'm in love with her? Scarlett Ingrid Johansson, you take a breath and ask your best friend and crush to go to the premier with you whether you want it or not! I probably get lost in my thoughts for a while since (y/n/n) is waving her hand in front of my face.

(Y/N): Hellooo? Land to Scarlett, are you here?

SCARLETT: Yeah, sorry I...I zoned out for a sec.

(Y/N): I noticed. Scarly now please answer me sincerely, are you ok?

I frowned at her question.

(Y/N): Don't look at me with that face, you can fool anyone but not me. You've been weird since you arrived today, then you want to ask me something and zone out. This is not you, whats going on?

I take a deep breath trying to gain time.

SCARLETT: Im fine (y/n/n), just a little bit stressed for the premier tomorrow. You know it'll be the first time I'll be there alone and I guess this is stressing me out

(Y/N): Awww don't worry Scarly you'll be amazing as always.- she says taking my hands in hers smiling at me- You're the strongest woman I've ever met and I'm sure that walking on a red carpet alone is not gonna break you down.

I blush at her words and lower my head shaking it a bit.

SCARLETT: The problem is not standing alone on the red carpet, the problem is the presss questions and the scandal that not having a partner for this event is gonna create.

Her smile dropped. She understands what I mean and she knows how much I got stressed when the press spread fake gossip about me.

(Y/N): Well I'm sure we can find someone inclined to accompany you or...

I raised my head at her or and saw the fear and embarrassment on her face. I dont know what happened to me at that moment, but suddenly I felt super confident and the words came out of my mind without me noticing.

SCARLETT: Or you can come with me as my date.

My eyes widened as soon as I realized what I said and I started to panic even more. I try to focus on the bright side of this thing but right now I can't care less about the fact that I practically confessed to my crush, I'm too scared of her reaction. My train of thoughts and paranoia stop rushing when I hear (y/n) laughing.

(Y/N): Your face is sooo funny! Seems like youve seen a ghost!

I try to force out a laugh but it dies in my throat before it can even get out of my mouth so I limit myself at smiling.

(Y/N): You know I wasn't thinking about me when I proposed another option right Scarly?

I nod sadly.

(Y/N): I was thinking about that Colin Jost... But if you want me to be there with you I'll cancel my date night with my couch and Netflix and come with you!

SCARLETT: Really?

My eyes lit up when she agreed to come to the premier as my date. I was so excited and happy as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulder. I jump out of my seat and hug her tight.

SCARLETT: Thank you, thank you, thank you!

(Y/N): Yeah, but don't get too excited I'll only do that in order to see the movie before anyone else.

I stop hugging her and go back to my seat putting on a childish pout and faking to be offended by her statement.

SCARLETT: For what you said you'll have to choose the dress on your own and come to pick me up tomorrow at 5pm.

(Y/N): No no no no. I was joking, girl, chill down! I obviously agreed to come cause youre my best friend and I don't want to let you go alone.- she said scratching the back of her head in facking embarasmen- Now please help me pick a dress!

I burst out laughing at her begging and she joined me soon.

SCARLETT: Ok (y/n/n) well go pick a dress now, but please learn how to plead cause you suck!

We get out of the caffe laughing and wondering about what will happen tomorrow night like two girls going nuts the day before the prom.

TIME SKIP TO THE RED CARPET

I'm walking side by side with (y/n) down the red carpet and I've never felt more powerful in my whole life. For the first time I'm standing in front of the press, journalist, photographer and I don't care about what they're saying and what they'll say tomorrow.

Down the path we stop for some photos and interviews. And I noticed (y/n) tensing and shaking when people ask her questions. Without thinking too much about it I hold her hand rubbing my thumb over the back of it trying to calm her down.

SCARLETT: If it's too much for you I can take you inside the theatre and come back out here alone.- I whisper in her ear.

(Y/N): No it's ok, I'm a little bit overwhelmed but I'll be fine. Just can you hold my hand?

SCARLETT: Sure thing hon, everything for you.

I see her blushing and that makes me smile.

We are now in the theatre and the movies have been going for a while already when I realize that the scene of Natasha's sacrifice is coming up. I shift in my seat trying to get comfortable and ease the stress. I know this scene would come, I mean I shoot it, but it's sad anyway cause after I played Natasha Romanoff for 10 years I can say that she is part of me now.

As soon as the Widow jumps down the cliff the theatre is filled with gasp and sob. Every member of the cast looked at me shocked since no one except Jeremy knew that. Robert, who was sitting at my left lean near me.

ROBERT: You hide it to us for all this time?

SCARLETT: Feige's order.

I hear a sob coming from the person at my right, so I turn around to see (y/n) crying in her seat. That view makes my heart clench, she is so beautiful and precious even with tears rolling down her cheek. I stare at her for a while before she notices and grabs my hand holding it tight in search of comfort. When our hands touch I feel my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat, we stare at each other's eyes and without realizing we both start to lean in closer without breaking eye contact. My heart was beating so fast and my mind was wandering freely imagining how could (y/n) lips would feel against mine.

Our magic moment was interrupted by a flash coming from the screen we woke up from our state of trance and back off blushing in embarrassment.

TIME SKIP TO EVANSS PARTY

(Y/N) P.O.V.

Me and Scarly are at a party hosted by the one and only Chris Evans. I've lost Scarlett in the crowd so I make my way to go get another drink. If I have to be totally honest I lost count of how many shots I've had, but drinking helps me forget about the problem and right now I have a big problem to take off my mind.

I still can't believe that me and Scarlet had almost kissed each other early in the theatre, but most importantly I can't believe I want it to happen again! She is my best friend and I shouldn't have those thoughts about her. I shouldn't wish to kiss her, but here I am.

The night went on with Scarlett chatting with her cast members and me drinking shot after shot till I practically passed out on someone which at the moment I don't remember the name, my head hurt too much for thinking. I slurred an "I'm sorry" while trying to get back on my feet.

BRIE: Here let me help, youre too drunk to stand alone.- she said while helping me stand still.

(Y/N): I'm not - hiccup- that dwunk -hiccup.

BRIE: Yeah and I'm a member of the Queen.

I stare at her for a while.

(Y/N): Ohhh, that's why you seemed familiar!

BRIE: Ermmm ok. Are you here with someone?

I pointed to Scarlet who was talking to some girl and that view made me jealous. She is mine! The girl member of the Queen walked me to Scarlett and whispered something to her. After that my bestie excused herself from the girl she was talking to and rushed to me. We walked out the house where the party was going on in silence and got in the car where I passed out.

I wake up at Scarlett shaking me violently.

SCARLET: We are here but I need you awake I can't pick you up with this stupid heels.

I nodded and focused my attention on keeping my eyes open. Scarlet helped me get out of the car and walk to the door where she made me lean against the wall while she searched for the key. We finally got inside the house, I threw my purse on the floor and leaned on a table falling asleep.

SCARLETT: No that's not the bed hun come on, we have to take you upstairs then you can sleep I promise.

She struggles at makinkin me stit up since I'm not cooperating much, but I'm too tired to move or even think. I look at Scarlett and notice that she is standing between my legs while Im still sitting over the table. In this way I was way more taller than her so I managed to look at her and notice how embarrassed and frustrated she is right now. I lost myself in her beautiful eyes for the second time in a day and before I even noticed we were leaning in eachother again.

SCARLETT: Fuck this!

Her lips crushed on mine in a very passionate and loving kiss which I gladly responded to. Its amazing, our lips complete each other like two pieces of the same puzzle. I lost myself in those kisses and I didn't even notice that Scarlett had picked me up and she is trying to walk to the staircase without interrupting our magical kiss.

Eventually our lips came apart and as if nothing happened she took me up to a room and put me to bed pecking my lips before I passed out definitely.

TIME SKIP TO THE NEXT MORNING

I stir and roll in the bed trying to remember what happened last night. I wake up and look around noticing that this is NOT my room. I sit up quickly causing my head to hurt and I notice a glass of water with some pills near it and a post-it on the nightstand. I pick the note and read it:

"I got you some pills and water, they'll help with your hangover. There are some of my clothes on the chair put them on then come downstairs I'm doing pancakes

-Scarly❤"

I start to get dressed trying to recall at my mind what happened after the party when something hit me. ME AND SCARLETT KISSED!

I fall on the floor tripping over the bed sheet, I stand up again and start going downstairs rubbing my sore back. When I entered the kitchen I saw Scarly focused on not burning the pancake. I walked behind her, slid my hand around her waist, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

(Y/N): Morning love.

SCARLETT: Look who decided to wake up!- she said kissing my lips- How are you feeling?

(Y/N): Me good, my ass not much since I fell on the floor.

We burst laughing and sit at the table starting to eat breakfast without the need to talk about what happened last night cause both of us know that we wanted it for a long time.

Love you you all and be safe

Dasy 🥰

#scarlett johansson x reader #the avengers #marvel #girls who like girls #actor x reader

114 notes · View notes

mrslilyrogers · 3 years

Text

All I Have To Do Is Dream

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s note: I know I’ve been gone for so long, I’m sorry!! I loved these requests and decided to merge them together. Took a while to write, I haven’t had much inspiration. I’ll keep this short and hope you enjoy this!! Let me know what you think!

Requests: hi!! first of all i adore your writing (esp. betrayal)!! id willingly chop two of my limbs in exchange of ur writing skills hahah!! can you maybe write a oneshot similar to take my breath away, and the reader and steve are dating, but they’re actually in steve’s dream(like in age of ultron) and she is sad that steve’s still hasn’t moved on from peggy?? and can you make it extra angsty?? sorry if this is too much hehe!! thanks btw :))

Hmmm maybe angst w/ Steve or Bucky where a misunderstanding/bad fight leads to the reader leaving the team?

“Damn it, Steve! Would you just listen? Where the hell are you even going?” your voice boomed around your small apartment as you breathed harshly, trying your best not to pull your hair out of frustration.

At first, it had all been just petty disagreements, you and Steve letting off some steam after the snap happened. You had thought it was normal at the time, a coping mechanism that needed to be flushed out of your systems never expecting that it would last for as long as it has. Five freakin’ years. By now, you would’ve thought you’d realize how lucky you were to still be alive, to still be together while others couldn’t say the same. And yet...

“Geez, Y/N. I am! For the past 30 minutes! And I’m telling you now what I’ve told you from the start, I am not ready! You gotta give me more time, doll.” He replied, his voice just a tad calmer than yours but you didn’t miss the tick in his jaw as he walked out of your shared room, shrugging into his jacket. You knew his anger was just brewing inside, ready to attack if you pushed just a little bit harder. After countless back-and-forths, this had become a routine between the two of you with Steve always taking the role of the aggrieved party, ending arguments with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes before he walked away, deciding he had something better to do with his precious time than fight with you. While you, on the other hand, always found that more infuriating, making you impatient and mean, baiting and nagging him until you wouldn’t even recognize the shrill and whine to your own voice.

“And when would that even be? It’s been five years since the snap. When will—”

“Don’t you dare bring that up!” his voice rose, eyes glaring at you as he whirled around, his jaw clenched. “Don’t use that excuse on me, you know damned well I know it. Why do you think I chose to move on and be with you instead of helping Nat bring them all back, hmm?” He continued mockingly as if you were stupid enough not to understand.

This was it, what all your petty arguments had narrowed down into;

Despite what he said, he still wasn’t ready to settle down.

“But what the hell are we doing now, Steve? We’re not getting any younger! I want to have kids, a family, with you!” You knew you sounded pathetic, and desperate all at the same time but you couldn’t help but continue, the pretty picture already clouding your brain,

“Can’t you see it? Having children of our own, their drawings hung up on the walls, the dog you’ve been wanting to have since forever running around the house, family barbecues...” your voice trailed off, a lump forming in your throat, your eyes glazing over with unshed tears. It was all within your grasp, so easily reachable if only Steve agreed with you. If only he wanted it too. Anger bubbled up to the surface while he bristled, looking annoyed.

“We can have all of that, you know. What are you even waiting for? Will you ever be ready? Because it really feels like you won’t and I’m the only one who actually wants this,” You were unrelenting, thinking of Tony Stark’s family, how they had gone off the grid and had their own little piece of heaven. Crossing your arms, you knew you wouldn’t achieve anything by becoming a nag but your patience was already wearing thin.

“Jesus, Y/N! Why would you even say that? Of course I want a family with you! I’m just not ready for that yet! Just give me more time,”

Shaking your head, you let out a defeated sigh and looked away from him. You could hear him grabbing the keys from the counter, exhaling loudly before he went up to you and ran his hands down your arms soothingly, willing you to understand. When you didn’t budge, he just pleaded as he always had,

“I love you, you know I love you. But I need to get to this meeting, those people need me, Y/N. Could we please just talk about this later?” He moved his head lower to meet your eyes and even in your state of anger, you knew you couldn’t say no to that. He took your begrudged nod as an assent, kissing your forehead before he turned to leave. What else were you going to say anyway? He was going to lead a therapy session for people who had lost their loved ones. Guilt ate at you for keeping him here when he so desperately wanted to save the world. People needed him too, not just you. They hung on his every word. They needed their Captain America, their symbol of hope. While, here you were, acting like a child because he wouldn’t let you have your way.

Letting out another sigh, your gaze stuck to the floor, berating yourself at how selfish you’d become. You knew what you were getting into when you dated him. You had no illusions of being the center of his universe, it was always going to be the people. But still, it would’ve been nice to be put first for once. You hated the tandem feelings of jealousy and guilt that always crept up on you after your fights. You just wished he understood that while those people needed their hero, you needed your Steve too. But as time passed, it seemed like the man and the hero were indistinguishable and you’d been deluding yourself into thinking it could be different. You’d just have to accept that too because living without him wouldn’t even be an option.

He paused by the door, catching sight of your slumped shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly, striding back to you.

“You know I love you, right?” he stroked your cheeks and you couldn’t help the turn of your lips. Nodding slowly, you rolled your eyes at how easy you were for him.

“I know. I’m sorry,”

Ducking down to give you a quick peck on the lips, he reassured you again, “We’ll talk about this later, I promise,” then he gave you one last kiss to your forehead before he disappeared. But what once would’ve eased your worries did nothing to quell your nerves now. Your heart believed everything was alright but your gut said otherwise.

_______________

He looked down at the worn, brassy compass in his palm, his mind years away from where he was, unaware that you were standing by the door. You watched his shoulders relax into a defeated sigh, his eyes never leaving her picture. You couldn’t remember when he ever looked at you like that, all the love and longing etched on his face. He brought his other hand up to caress the picture gently, as if he actually imagined she was with him, a small, sad smile forming on his lips. You felt the air knock right out of you while you scrambled out of there feeling as if you’ve intruded on an intimate moment. You couldn’t help the tears falling from your eyes while you convinced yourself it was nothing. He had just lost his best friends, she was a symbol of his past. He just missed that right?

You paced around the kitchen, your mind running back to the times you’ve caught him staring at Peggy’s picture. All those times you pretended you didn’t notice how frequently he had been doing it these past few years. His voice, an echo in your head,

“I’m not ready, just give me more time doll, please,”

Closing your eyes, you buried your face in your hands. Oh, it would be so easy, you thought. All you had to do was get into his mind and see for yourself. One little, fast trip into his thoughts and you’d get your answers. He’d be none the wiser, no one need ever know except you. And your dignity, and your pride and your principles. Ugh.

He trusted you, you promised never to use your powers on him and yet, that was all you could ever think about now. Did he think of her when he thought of the family he wanted? Was it her face he saw, walking down the aisle to him?

For the first time in your life, you hated your upbringing at the Xavier Institute. You hated the values and principles they instilled in you, the very reason you were adamant not to use your powers on the unwilling and unsuspecting for your own personal gain even though you were going crazy, craving for your own peace of mind. Deep down you knew, promise to Steve or no, you couldn’t go through with it.

You looked at the clock, thirty minutes to go before his meeting ended. Grabbing your coat from the rack, you impulsively decided to go to him, promising yourself you weren’t going to nag and argue with him but have a normal conversation like you used to. You haven’t had a date in a long while anyway. Maybe a little spark of romance was all you really needed.

_____________

Your steps echoed on the linoleum floor, walking past the empty hall to follow the directions to the room where the meeting took place. Rubbing your palms together, you spotted the room. The fluorescent lights hanging above casting a lonely pallor to the already gray walls while the rain poured heavily outside. The gloom, an inevitable reminder of what the world has become. It seemed everywhere people went, there was always a reminder of what they’ve lost. Even on an otherwise unblemished sunny day, the vibrancy was not the same, people were scarce and it was quiet. Too quiet. Which was why you were so adamant to continue on living, in order to honor the lives of the people you’ve lost.

You could hear their faint voices outside the room. Your heart going out to those poor people who still held onto the past while you thanked your lucky stars you still had Steve.You fished for your earphones in your purse trying not to eavesdrop but his clear and deep voice interrupted you. Leaning against the wall opposite the door, you listened, a smile tugging on your lips while he commended the other person. He was always so good with words, always knew the right things to say and that never failed to make you proud. His words of encouragement lifted your spirits, making you stand a little taller, hope blossoming in the pit of your stomach. He talked about moving on, about finding purpose again.

“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”

Your whole body went cold, the smile on your lips faltering, your hands suddenly gripping the edge of your blouse while his disheartened voice continued to try to reassure everyone including himself,

“I woke up 70 years later, you gotta move on. You gotta move on,”

With a hand to your lips, you ran, your rapid, staccato steps filling the hall barely even muffling the sobs you desperately tried to hide.

___________

Steve didn’t bother coming home straightaway after the meeting. He told himself it was because he needed to check up on Nat despite the fact that he could’ve easily just called, despite knowing you were all supposed to meet for dinner in a few days anyway. He took his time getting to the Avengers Compound, embracing the uncharacteristic quietness of the city, giving him the chance to be alone with his thoughts. If he were being honest with himself, he couldn’t shake off the guilt that settled at the pit of his stomach at the thought of Peggy. The love of his life. Apparently, anyway. He had no idea where that came from, never really thought of it until it slipped from his mouth. And did he really feel that way? Was she really the love of his life?

The thought of you came unbidden from his mind, your warm smile waking him up in the morning, your laughter setting the world to rights whenever he was feeling especially out of place. You’ve been through so much together, what you both had was real and it was beyond anything he could’ve imagined when he woke up from the ice and he knew he should take it a step further. He loves you, he is fully committed to you. There was nothing holding him back and yet… and yet, he still thought of her. He couldn’t help but think that if he had only stayed where he really was supposed to be, Peggy would’ve been the mother to his children, she would’ve been his wife. She would’ve been his life’s true love. But the very thought of that put a sour taste to his mouth, the truth was he could never picture his life without you. As much as he still dreamt of the past, how could it be the same if you weren’t there?

At first he thought falling in love with you was a balm to soothe his lost soul until he eventually realized you had crept up on him slowly but in a span of a heartbeat, wormed your way into his heart so suddenly he couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment he knew he loved you. It was plain and simple, he knew it as he knew the sun rose in the east, he loved you. It was so unlike the way he fell for Peggy where all it took was one look and he was already drunk in love.

Was it possible then, to be in love with two women?

________________________________________

You were already in bed when Steve got home, feigning tiredness from the day when your heart was really beating rapidly in your chest. How could you face him now knowing you were second best? You could hear him in the bathroom, oblivious to your inner turmoil. When he was done, he gave you a quick kiss goodnight and went to his side of the bed, his back to you. You turned to face the wide expanse of his shoulders and wondered where the hell do you go from here. Would you really be alright living in the shadow of his ex, one of the world’s most accomplished women, so extraordinary that Captain America couldn’t even move on from her? Could you really leave him if it came down to it?

A tear escaped the corner of your eye and you laid on your back, the darkness of the ceiling reflecting the heaviness in your heart. You must’ve stared at it for hours, wondering just how far away you were from the man right at your side. He was with you physically but his heart? You always knew deep down, it belonged to someone else. If he had a choice to go back, would he leave you? With the way things were going, you knew he would. In an instant. There was always a part of him that he closed off from you and ever since the snap, it only worsened. The fights, the distance, it all made sense now. Heck, even tonight, he didn’t even bother to ask how you were doing and accepted your lame excuse to get to bed early. It was the weekend, you literally had nothing to do the whole day and yet, it never even occurred to him that something could be wrong. For once, you were sorely tempted to use your powers on him. Hearing his even breathing as he slept didn’t make it any easier. It would be over before he knew it, what would be the harm in that?

As if on cue, he turned and faced you. His long lashes resting peacefully on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, he looked like a man who didn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked younger, more like your Steve. The Steve you wished would let you in and give you the family you’ve always wanted.

“Just a quick little trip, no one would ever know. What would be the harm in that?” the little voice in the back of your head taunted.

What would be the harm in that?

With your resolve weakening, you jumped right into the abyss, entering the mind of the man of your dreams, hoping you were his too.

______

The sun shone brightly through the open window, letting in the warm summer breeze while his favorite vinyl record played in the background.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long long time

The air was crisp and the smell of pancakes and cinnamon wafted from the doorway of the kitchen into the living room of the small, suburban house. The yellow walls were adorned with children’s drawings with a few marker drawings on the wallpaper here and there. The faint sound of giggling could just be heard from where you stood by the stairs. Your children, you thought to yourself, a smile creeping up your lips. This was it. This was what you’ve been picturing too, what you’ve told him countless times over and over again. He dreamed of it too. You turned your attention to the living room, your heart giving a little leap at the mess. It looked like someone had tried to tidy up but gave up on the last minute, some toys still scattered about. You noticed the pet bed by the couch, and you couldn’t help but be excited and hopeful, it was everything you thought of down to a T. You went towards the paper and crayons on the low table between the couch and the fireplace, inspecting one of the children’s current drawings there. It was of a family, their hands holding each other while they smiled in front of the house, a little dog at their father’s side. At the bottom, a scribbly handwriting of a preschooler wrote; Mom, Sarah, James, Dad and directly below the dog, Sam. You laughed aloud at that, clutching the drawing, hoping you could keep it for yourself and willing it into existence.

“Come on, dance with me,”

You heard Steve’s playful voice coming from the kitchen. A woman’s laughter rang out, you could just imagine yourself shaking your head at him in response, but something about the woman’s laugh caught you in your tracks. A little too shrill, a little too melodic. You inched closer to the open door, your heart dropping to your stomach. There they were, the picture perfect couple. He twirled her around, her red dress hugging her curves so effortlessly, while she drew her head back and laughed. The dimples on her cheeks deepening, her curls staying in place even when Steve maneuvered her around. They looked so beautiful together, his golden locks and smitten smile never once leaving her face, he never looked so happy.

Not even when he was with you.

That realization hit you like a train. You couldn’t even remember the last time he looked at you the way he looked at Peggy now. When was the last time you danced? When was the last time you acted silly together? When was the last time you were both happy? That was what hurt the most. You couldn’t even remember. It felt like a weird sort of deja vu except now, it was an actual woman instead of a picture on a compass. You tried to gather your pride and step away but you couldn’t, you were rooted into place, a sadistic part of you welcomed the pain because you should’ve known.

“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”

You should’ve known.

But instead, you choose to play the fool.

There must’ve been a shift in the air that only they understood because Steve gathered her in his arms now, their eyes locking into each other, gentle and longing.

You'll never know how many dreams

I dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

He rocked her back and forth, bringing her hand up to his chest, turning into action what words fail to describe. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his heart, savoring their moment. He leaned his head on hers too, a satisfied smile on both their faces as they continued to sway to the music. You had never felt as small as you did now. You felt like a thief, intruding on their moment, stealing his dream away. And that’s exactly what you were doing. That’s exactly what you are. You felt so dirty, a desperate, pathetic fly on the wall he couldn’t get rid of. And worst of all, you destroyed his trust too.

As if on cue, the colors started to change, the song distorting and shifting and in this moment you knew, you had to leave.

You have to leave.

Part Two

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steggy #the avengers #marvel #captain america

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luminari-mc · 3 years

Text

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 2

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 4642

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a human and a demon get to enjoy the presence of one another again, Mammon knows deep down that behind this ephemeral bliss, hides a looming and powerful storm.

PART 1 - PART 2 -

A/N: it's almost Mammon's birthday! And as promised, here is part 2 of my little series! While part 1 was made to place several plot points here and there, this chapter really starts to set things in motion for future chapters, and especially part 3.

All I have to say here is... Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.

___________________________________________

For the first time in a while... the human world felt much more colorful. Much more silent. It was as if life itself had been born anew, the suffocating darkness engulfing the world having been cast away for the light to reclaim its rightful ownership. The evil dragon of separation had finally been put to rest, and so, the chirping of the birds quickly replaced the self-deprecating thoughts of the people.

The only question left on the people's minds, as their bodies embraced so close to one another throughout the night, rejoicing to finally be back in the other's company, was... for how long, would that blissful respite last?

The night had been deep and short, but much welcoming. The weariness that had taken over the couple's bodies over the past two months had thoroughly vanished, as if all of this had been nothing but a bad dream. How much they wished it had been the case, and that the kisses they had shared the previous night didn't have to be ones filled with the need to feel the other's presence so desperately, for their minds to realize that they were here, and he was here, together in the same room at long last.

A human hand gently caressed a white-haired head, the demon to which it belonged still soundly asleep. Despite it being a few hours after dawn, MC had only recently opened their eyes to the first rays of sunlight, finding themself still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in. Mammon's arms were still firmly wrapped around their frame, their proximity allowing him to breathe in the scent of their skin as his nose brushed against their collarbone each time his chest rose up in his sleep.

Remaining laid down on their side, the human could only keep still and watch the face of their demon in adoration, still unsure whether they really had him in their bed with him, or if the loneliness of the past few weeks had truly made them lose their mind beyond salvation.

But as their fingers gently passed in his hair, their caresses never ending, MC couldn't help but wonder... what had Mammon done since the last time they saw him? How had he spent his time in the Devildom? How were the others? And most importantly, how had he found his way to them? Not that much conversation had been achieved the previous night, to answer all of their questions... The two of them had quickly realized, as MC came to drag Mammon inside the apartment, their clothes damp from the rain that had been dripping from his body, that what they wanted, as their lips met again and again, weren't answers, but to feel each other. And before any of them could notice, they had both fallen into a deep slumber that lasted the entire night.

MC raised their head slightly to look out of the bay window on the other side of the room. Outside, they could partially perceive the colors of the other buildings of the city in the horizon, the sunlight reflecting on their windows brightly and making them squint their eyes in response. They would have preferred to be able to see the green of the trees lined up in the street below, but that was one of the many flaws of this place... the floor that Solomon had chosen for MC to reside in was just way, way too high up.

If it hadn't been for a pair of arms pulling them slightly forward, MC wouldn't have noticed the half-closed pair of blue eyes staring at them in silence. MC immediately lowered their side back against the mattress, their head meeting with the pillow once more. Under the covers, they moved a leg instinctively against Mammon's.

"Good morning." They whispered through a smile, a sound so affectionate to one demon's ears that his hand slid from under the blanket to place itself on the human's cheek.

"Is this a dream?"

Mammon's words surprised them, but only for a short second. The demon's expression was nothing but serious, a slightly furrowed brow adorning his forehead as if he was expecting to receive a positive, yet disappointing answer to his question. Instead, MC's smiled turned only sweeter. They closed their eyes before pulling Mammon closer to them.

"It's not a dream." They felt him place his face in the crook of their neck. "You're with me, and I'm with you. It's for real."

Almost as if he was holding back tears, Mammon inhaled deeply, before closing the empty space between his body and MC's until there was nothing left. Their hand was brought back to the back of his head, drawing slow circles in the hopes of soothing him.

"I still can't believe it." His words seemed to be on the verge of breaking up as they slipped through his gritted teeth. "It feels like you've been gone for a thousand years, even worse... Why the hell did I only find ya now..."

"Mammon..." MC opened their eyes again to urgently place a gentle kiss on top of the demon's head. "What's important is that you found me. It is much better than if a thousand years had really passed, don't you think?"

Mammon's head leaned away from the warmth of their neck, his glassy eyes able to meeting theirs again. His mouth stayed agape for a few seconds, before both of his hands cupped MC's face in place.

"I know I asked last night, but you sure you're okay, right? Nobody has hurt you or experimented on you or anythin'?"

"I'm okay, Mammon." They placed their hands on top of his, a small chuckle escaping through their lips. "I swear, all I did was practice magic with Solomon and live a boring human life."

"But you sure it was normal magic? What if it was some weird spells and he was secretly messing with your body without you knowing?"

His worry made them sigh softly, their thumbs brushing the back of his hands. It was understandable for him to be so concerned for their safety, after receiving no news in such a long time. And the demons had always been wary of Solomon ever since they had known the wizard, to the point where MC themself, had even grown to wonder why Solomon had been acting the way he did, since they had gone back to the human world.

"I promise you." They responded, yet unsure themself of the veracity of their words. "Nothing has been done to me."

Silence fell between the both of them again, a staring contest where Mammon was expecting them to let go of a much harder truth, which never came. He was the first to break eye contact, rather preferring to stare into the space between MC's head and the pillow.

"Solomon... He's hidin' something too. I just know it"

His sudden pouting mouth and words made MC blink. "Too? What do you mean...?"

After marking a wordless pause, Mammon's hands slid off their cheeks, his upper body rising up as he sat himself into the bed. The sheets fell onto his hips, leaving his arm exposed for MC to grab in case he was trying to avoid their question and get up. But instead, all he did was pass a hand through his hair as a deep sigh left his lungs.

"Mammon?" MC called out, their voice starting to show concern due to the demon's sudden secrecy. But as they read his expression a bit more clearly from their laid position in the bed, and as they watched the creases between his eyebrows form, and his jaw clenching, they realized that... Mammon probably knew more about all this than themself.

"A... A lot of shit went down ever since you left, MC." The demon kept his palm in his hair, leaving his forehead exposed. "It's gone bad, and I just... I-I just dunno what to do anymore."

It wouldn't take a genius to see how perturbed Mammon was about this subject- you just had to see the way his fingers had wrapped around his own hair, almost as if he was about to pull a handful, the questions in his mind twirling in a never-ending whirlpool of torment. One thing MC was grateful for, however, was how much more open he had become with them ever since they had known each other.

As MC propped themself on their elbow, they allowed their hand to wander up and down Mammon's arm to remind him of their presence.

"... Do you want some breakfast? I'd rather you explain everything while stuffing yourself with waffles. I make them delicious, I promise."

Although he glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, his pout only seemed to double. MC stopped their hand from rubbing his skin before placing it above his own, their thumb gently brushing the back of it. Like a timid child, his cheeks darkened, letting his voice, now low, respond to their question.

"I... could go with some of your waffles."

After putting some clothes on, apart from Mammon who could only rely on one of MC's loose jogging pants due to his clothes from the previous night still dripping wet on a nearby chair-, MC made their way to the kitchen to prepare something for their demon.

Throughout the whole process, Mammon never left their side. Once his arms had been locked around their frame from behind as they began preparing the waffles, he hadn't let go. His chin remained on their shoulder, his body moving alongside them whenever they had to go to a cabinet to grab a bowl, a whip, or even when they went to pick the different ingredients for the batter. MC had asked in the beginning "are you sure you don't want to sit at the table?", wanting him not to be standing more than his tired legs could bear. But their question was only met with a shaking of his head, before his forehead met with the warmth of their skin. "I'm good there", he had answered. And so MC let him hold on to them, enjoying the feeling of his arms around their waist, and the few kisses he would place here and there alongside their neck and cheek. This calm, this peace, this comfortable silence... they had forgotten what it felt like.

Once all the batter had been changed into hot and steamy waffles, and the rest of the breakfast had been made, the couple sat around the kitchen table.

"So... is it that bad?" MC placed their hands around their hot cup of cocoa, taking a sip of the drink as Mammon filled his mouth with a waffle he had covered in strawberry jam. MC had insisted that he was to eat his batch first, with him having barely eaten anything the previous day. Even if he was a demon, he needed to have a proper morning meal.

"It's almost as if you had never been in the house in the first place." Mammon answered after swallowing his bite. "Satan went back on being super pissy with Lucifer for the smallest things, Levi eats his meals in his room and never comes out. I see Asmo buyin' even more beauty products than usual and he's constantly askin' us if "this and that" suits him, to the point where it's ridiculous. Beel almost stopped eating entirely because he was too worried for ya. If it weren't for Belphie, he would have turned into a literal stick. Now Belphie sleeps more often too. And Lucifer, he..."

He stabbed one of the waffles with his fork, before tearing a piece of it with his teeth. MC's brow instantly furrowed with concern.

"He just has to know why we couldn't reach you. He's been lyin' through his teeth for weeks on end, but he thinks he's being so sly and that we're too dumb to see it." Another teared piece of the waffle disappeared into his mouth. "Like, sure, he's been way more on edge ever since you left the Devildom and even more after we've all started askin' why we couldn't talk to you, but that just shows that he knows somethin' and we don't."

With a slower movement, his fork planted into the remaining bits of the waffle. "But it's just... I don't understand, you get it? Why would he try to hide something about you from us? All of a sudden we can't send you texts or call you like we used to everytime you had to come back to the human world, and out of nowhere he starts actin' all weird about it. It's just..."

MC noticed Mammon's jaw clenching, his hand and fork immobile as it stayed firmly planted into the waffle. The demon swallowed harshly, letting the human know how the situation back at home must have been for him. Without their presence, the brothers had turned back into their previous selves, if not worse.

"What about you?" They asked, making the second-born jerk his head upward at them. "How are you feeling?"

"M-Me? It's... not important." He looked away shamefully, the pressure on the fork increasing and his nail starting to dig into his palm.

"Mammon." Their hand reached forward to wrap itself around the one that was holding the fork. "If my absence has been affecting everyone like this... I want to know how you dealt with it, too."

They patiently waited until Mammon finally dared cross his gaze with their own once again.

"I... dammit, don't laugh, okay?" He muttered. "But, I guess when we learned you didn't have your D.D.D. with ya back in the human world, I was the one with took it the worst... I grew tired of Lucifer tellin' me to be patient and wait for a replacement to get to ya, and I kinda ran to Lord Diavolo and ended up throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the throne room. Barbatos didn't like it, and neither did Lucifer. I still don't know why, but Lucifer didn't strung me from the ceiling on that day. Actually, he's mostly been yelling at us more than punishing. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since the others went all back on ganging up on me for any mistake I make."

Just as Mammon finally brought the rest of the waffle into his mouth in the hopes of not breaking up into a groaning mess, MC could swear they felt their heart sink within them. It sounded exactly like what Mammon had said. The brothers had all gone back to their old ways, with Mammon ending up as the punching bag once again. And all because they weren't around anymore?

"I'm... I'm sorry." Their throat tightened, a sense of guilt starting to wash over them. "If I knew you guys were having it this bad, I'd- I should have been way more insistent with Solomon, I should have kept asking to see you more than I did when-"

"Wha- No no, hey, it's not your fault!" Mammon exclaimed, panic settling in as MC started taking the blame on themself. "I mean, no one coulda thought that you'd be gone for this long... And that we'd be all negative for not being able to call you and stuff..."

Mammon passed a hand over his neck, the other covering MC's fist with its warmth. His eyes drifted to the side.

"We just... ya know. Grew used to havin' ya around. Guess it messed up our heads pretty good, and in the end, hatin' on each other seemed like the only solution to keep us busy.... I think."

MC's stomach churned uncomfortably as they sat there silently, slowly processing Mammon's words. What they wouldn't give to have sensed sooner that the brothers were also out of the loop in this situation, and ask Solomon for answers in the first few weeks after being back in the human world with him. How could they have been so passive about this? How could they have been so blind?

"MC."

Mammon's voice pulled them out of their thoughts, as they raised their eyes back onto him. "Huh?"

"What did Solomon say? About you not being able to see us?"

"Hum..." Their brain replayed the fuzzy memories of what happened two months earlier.

"Well, you remember how we all said our goodbyes to each other before I left the Devildom? It was in the student's council meeting room, like usual. But Diavolo had said that I would need to fill some papers before entering the portal, so I guess since we all were used to saying goodbye like this by now, we didn't really see the harm in having you brothers all leave the room before I entered the portal."

They instinctively bit the corner of their bottom lip. "Which left me, Barbatos and Diavolo in the room. Diavolo said something about needing my D.D.D. to replace it with an upgraded version, which I thought was weird at the time since Karasu had always warned me when it needed repairs or to update an app. But I trusted Diavolo, so I gave it to him, and he said I should receive the new one shortly through Solomon. After that, I got into the portal, but never received the phone, and Solomon started saying all these excuses..."

"What excuses?" Mammon asked, pressing on the matter out of curiosity, but mostly because of the bubbling rage that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.

"At first he explained that the new D.D.D. took some time to be shipped to Lord Diavolo, but-- it's Lord Diavolo, the literal demon prince. He knows how much I like to communicate with all of you while I'm up there, so I couldn't understand why he simply couldn't ask for the shipping to go a bit faster?" MC started moving their free hand around as they continued to explain their version of the story. "Then Solomon suddenly switched from the phone taking time to be shipped to... saying that the Devildom was dealing with some dangerous threat that came out of nowhere, and that I needed to stay away until the matter was dealt with. But in the end it just... made me want to know if you guys were okay even more..."

Neither Mammon nor MC had realized, nor heard, that a crack had begun to form under Mammon's firm grip on the edge of the table. The more he learned how many lies had been thrown in their face by the wizard, the more pressure Mammon was putting on his closed teeth. He couldn't believe Solomon had told them that they were in danger, when absolutely nothing eventful had happened during their absence. What was wrong with this guy, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer? The demon searched in his mind again and again, why his older brother would make up such an alliance with Solomon, especially to keep MC at bay- wasn't he supposed to care for them, too?

"I've heard enough." He hissed, the wood cracking even more under his palm. "Once I know what the fuck is going on with those two, I'm bringing you back home."

"Wait-" MC exclaimed, panic in their voice. "I-It has to be for a reason, right? That your story and mine aren't the same? I just- I don't understand why Diavolo and Lucifer would lie to me so that I stay in the human world, especially when they were acting like usual before I left."

"Reason or not, I don't fucking care. Shouldn't they have at least let us know if something was up?" Mammon's hands retrieved from both the table and MC's, the demon grasping the fabric of his pants harshly as he shook his head in disbelief. "Think about it, MC. If they all made up a bunch of lies so that we wouldn't be able to contact you, then it means that you're involved in this. Whatever problem it is they're hiding, they should tell you what it is, and not straight up throw you away in the human world as if neither you or ME would care about it."

The demon let out a frustrated groan as his eyes closed firmly, Mammon not understanding anything of the situation. If he and MC wanted answers, it would require to go back to either Solomon or Lucifer, but either of those options weren't at the top of his priorities right now. All he wanted at the moment, was to make sure that MC would remain safe, if they indeed were at the center of all this. He didn't want to lose them again. Two months of radio silence had already been hard enough. No, now, he would remain with them at all times. No matter if the obstacles ended up being a wizard, the demon prince, or his literal older brother.

MC's arms wrapping around his shoulders pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He opened his eyes, feeling them sitting on his lap as they hid their face into his neck. Their embrace was strong, but at the same time, gentle and comforting. He instantly felt himself melt in his seat. Slowly, his shoulders dropped, and his arms circled the human he loved the most.

"I swear it." He muttered, looking into the empty space behind them. "I'll bring you back to the house. Everyone's missing you, and... I miss you, too."

MC nodded against his neck. "I'd love that. I miss the others. I miss my room there. And you always barging in without notice."

"O-Oh, yeah, about that-" Mammon pulled them slightly away by the shoulders so he could face them. "I kinda forgot to tell ya, but... when you weren't here, I sorta felt really alone, having to sleep in my room without you around, so... uh, what I mean is that- I kinda brought most of my stuff in your-"

The demon's sentence was cut short by the melody of a ringtone at the other end of the table. Mammon looked instantly at MC's phone, arching an eyebrow both for being interrupted, but also wondering who could be calling them on their human phone at this hour.

"Ah- it's probably Solomon. He was supposed to come visit yesterday, but postponed it to today instead." MC said, not without a hint of disappointment in their voice as they got up from Mammon's lap to go grab their phone.

Mammon growled, already preparing himself mentally for possibly having the occasion to yell at the wizard for all the mess he caused, but his plan was immediately stopped by MC, who had put a finger on their lips. While Mammon started pouting, MC pressed the sleep button on the side of the phone, but opened their eyes wide as the name of the caller was written in what seemed like... the Devildom's language.

"It's- not Solomon?"

Their thumb swapped over the Accept button, and just as they placed the phone over their ear and were about to ask who it was, a voice, way too familiar to them, answered first.

"M-MC.. ?" The broken sobs mixed with the voice of none other than Leviathan, almost made MC forget how to breathe. "Aahh, I'm so glad... I-I wasn't sure if- sniffle..."

"Levi?" MC clasped their other hand over the phone, alerted by the state of the demon on the other side of the line. Behind them, Mammon practically jumped out of his seat.

"Levi?! Put him on speaker!"

MC obeyed him, quickly turning the speaker on and putting the phone in-between the two of them. The third-born's voice could now be heard in the entire room, as his desperate cries continued.

"Yo, Levi, why are you crying?! And how did you figure out how to call MC's phone?!" Mammon shouted, before approaching the phone to listen more closely. "Hey, is that Asmo I'm hearin'? Is he with you? What's happening??"

"Mammon... we were so worried- that you wouldn't find them..." Levi continued, as several people could be heard in the background, seemingly arguing with each other. "I tried really hard you know... I'm so, so sorry MC... I really tried... Please, please forgive me, I tried..."

"T-Tried? Wha- What did you try, Levi?" MC asked nervously, a knot starting to form in their throat. But the only answer they received from Leviathan, was a louder sob, soon followed by muffled cries as if the demon had stuffed his face into a pillow.

"Here- Levi, I'll talk to them." Another voice replaced Levi's, this one more composed in its tone. It increased in volume as the owner brought the phone closer to their face. "MC, Mammon? Are you still there?"

"Satan..." MC whispered, a hand placed over their chest. It had been so long since they had heard either of the other demons' voices.

"Hey, Satan, what's wrong with Levi?! I keep hearin' the others talking behind you too! I leave you guys for one day and already one of you is bawling his eyes out?!" Mammon asked urgently, obvious worry in his voice for his brother. As if the whole trip to the human world hadn't already been anxiety inducing, now something had happened within the House of Lamentation, and he wasn't there to check up on them.

On the other side of the phone, Satan clicked his tongue.

"After helping you find MC's location, Levi spent hours learning how to call a human phone with a demon one... literal hours. I'm glad it worked." He paused. "Everything would have turned out alright, if only it hadn't been for him."

While MC blinked in confusion, Mammon's breath was caught in his throat. His face turned pale, and his brow furrowed even more as the realization of what the fourth-born was trying to tell him washed over him.

"Wait... Don't tell me-"

"He's gone way too far this time." Satan hissed. Behind him, the voices of the other brothers turned quieter, the blonde demon moving away from them. "You have to leave wherever you are. While you didn't know where MC was, Mammon, I'm not doubting that he does. I don't know why he's acting the way he is but... I'm worried about MC. Mammon, you have to get them away from him."

"Wait, Satan, are you talking about-"

Two dry knocks came from the entrance door, and MC immediately shut themself up, quickly pressing the speaker off. Flipping their head alongside Mammon's towards the sound, the two's breaths turned slow and their bodies immobile, like deers caught in headlights. Neither of them dared make a sound, nor move a muscle, their eyes glued to the wood of the door as they waited for additional knocks, which never came.

Instead, after a silence that seemed to last forever, with only the now small voice of Satan hurriedly asking them from the phone if they were alright, a hue began emanating on the door. A red circle, shining a light that resembled a laser's glow, drew in the center. Several patterns followed and appeared within it, and before MC could take a step towards it, as they finally understood who was on the other side, Mammon's body immediately blocked them from advancing.

"Mammon-"

The demon raised an arm out, preventing MC from moving further away from the table. The human didn't have to see his face to know that he was preparing himself for anything- his tensed body in front of them spoke for himself.

His inner thoughts from a few minutes ago resurfaced in a flash upon sensing MC's hand on his back. No more separation. He had to protect them- stay with them. No matter the obstacle.

Even if this obstacle, turned out to be his own older brother.

"He's here."

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

I'll Protect You

the imagine that inspired this! warning: alcina's forehead scar mentioned, getting shot mentioned, and getting tortured mentioned but the last two are briefly! here's the ao3 link, enjoy!

***

Alcina never allowed you to watch her dress. It was always dark when the two of you were intimate. You knew why that was. You knew it was because of her scars, her insecurities. You caught small glimpses of the ones on her hands when her gloves would slide off slightly. She'd pull it back up without a glance at her hand or at you, so you never said anything about them. You knew that Alcina would tell you when she was ready, when she trusted you enough to tell you about them and you respected that.

You had never really questioned why Alcina always wore a hat, mostly because you'd just gotten used to it being a part of her daily wardrobe. It was until you were at dinner with Alcina and her daughter's and noticed the faint outline of a scar on her forehead when she leaned her head back further than usual to laugh at something Elise had just said. Your laughter calmed down a bit and you opened your mouth to question it, figuring that she'd gotten it the same way her daughters had, but stopped when you saw the look in Daniela's eyes and noticed the slight shake of her head. You closed your mouth and gave her a curt nod. You didn't know if Alcina or the other two daughters had noticed the exchange, but if they did, they didn't mention it.

Alcina looked over at you and gave you a small smile that you reciprocated. She excused the two of you from the table and the two of you made your way up to her chambers. The short journey was quiet and you didn't mind that, it gave you time to think. You sat on Alcina's bed while she made her way over to her vanity to remove her makeup like she always did after dinner. It was the only part of her morning and night routine that she allowed you to be in the room for.

You could feel Alcina's eyes on yours as you played with your hands. "Are you feeling alright, draga mea? You've been awfully quiet tonight." Alcina said as she removed her jewelry. You cast a quick glance up at her before letting out a small sigh and standing up to walk over to her. The sudden movement caused Alcina's eyebrows to knit in confusion. "Y/N, dear, is something wrong?"

You looked into Alcina eyes and gave her a small smile to reassure her. You climbed into her lap, your legs on either side of her body. You could feel her breath become a little quicker as she wrapped an arm around your waist. You ran your thumb over Alcina's bottom lip before giving her a kiss. "Te iubesc atat de mult." You said against her lips softly. You reached past her to grab her makeup remover. "May I, Alci?" You could see Alcina's eyes widen slightly, but she nodded her head nonetheless. You lifted Alcina's chin up slightly, the two of you not breaking eye contact until your other hand came up to cup her cheek and she closed her eyes.

You started by first removing her lipstick, kissing them lightly when you were done removing her lipstick, kissing them lightly when you were done removing it. You then moved over to carefully wiping the makeup off of her cheeks, uncovering one that stretched down her right cheek. You could feel Alcina flinch slightly when you traced the length of the scar before peppering kisses down the length of it. You noted that Alcina's eyes were still closed, but her breathing quickened a bit when you pulled your hands from her face.

"Alci." You said softly. She opened her eyes. "Do you trust me?" You asked her and she nodded her head slightly in reply. You reached your hands up to remove her hat, but she caught your wrists, you hadn't even seen her raise her hands. "Alci, I won't hurt you, I promise." You said. You gave her another kiss and she let go of your wrists. The two of you sat in silence before Alcina gave you a small nod indicating that you could remove her hat. You carefully took her hat off and place it on the vanity.

"Y/N," Alcina started but her voice cracked a bit. You stood up from your spot on Alcina's lap. You cupped your lover's face in both of your hands, studying her ees. There were red from her straining against the tears that were trying to break free. You closed your eyes and brought Alcina's forehead down to your lips and kissed the place where her scar was. Your lips lingered there for a few seconds before you pulled away only for Alcina to pull you closer to her so she could bury her face into your stomach. It took you a while to realise that Alcina was sobbing into you, she was so quiet when displaying the emotion.

You ran your fingers through her hair and just listened to her cry for a while before helping her get ready for bed. You did most of the work getting her nightgown on and helping her unpin her hair. The two of you laid in Alcina's bed, her head resting on your chest. You place little kisses along her hairline and her forehead, the feeling making Alcina's heart flutter.

Alcina sniffled and placed a small kiss to your stomach, covered by the fabric of your own nightgown. "I could, would you..." Alcina trailed off, not knowing what words she wanted to say. You continued to run your fingers through her hair, knowing that it helped calm her down. Alcina let out a small deep breath. "I want to tell you." She said softly.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Tell me what?" You asked.

"The scar. The one on my forehead." Alcina replied. You let out a soft gasp before humming in reply and kissing her forehead again. "It happened a long time, actually, but it still hurts. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally." You could see Alcina frown at the thought of how the scar came about. "I'd rather not say their name, but it was someone I trusted deeply. Someone that I allowed into my castle and, unfortunately, into my heart." Alcina's eyes welled up with tears again and you could feel your eyes starting to do the same.

"Take your time, Alci. You don't have to tell me if it's too much for you." You said softly, placing another kiss to the top of Alcina's head. You could feel her snuggle deeper into you and exhale.

Alcina closed her eyes before continuing. "The gained my trust. They gained the trust of my daughters. They even had that foolish brother of mine wrapped around their finger." Alcina said, you could hear the disdain in her voice. "Five years. They spent five years learning everything they could about the fours houses, Mother Miranda, and anything else they could retain information about. They went to the village every two weeks, I paid no attention to why at the time, but I wish I had." Alcina picked at the fabric of your nightgown, figuring out where she was heading with the rest of her story.

"Did they have family in the village?" You asked. You stifled a small yawn and readjusted your position on the bed a bit. Alcina shook her head. "Then why? Were they... They were planning something, weren't they?" You asked. Alcina nodded her head. You tightened your grip on her, pulling her closer into your body as you possibly could. "I'm so sorry, Alci." You were starting to understand where Alcina's trust issues came from and we're glad that she'd trusted you enough to share that horrible story with you.

"They, they, Y/N, they shot me." Alcina said, it was barely audible, but you heard it. You couldn't help but let the tears fall down from your eyes at her words. "I hadn't been taken advantage of like that since I was gullible little kid, but they, they got me to let my guard down. They wanted to go for a picnic, it was the perfect time of year for one, so I didn't have the heart to say no. But it was a trick, just a ploy to lure me into a part of the woods where they had the numbers. It felt like I was being tortured for days on end instead of a few hours. If the girls hadn't been concerned and called their uncle, I'd hate to think of what could've been, my dear." Alcina voice had gotten firmer by the time she was done.

You were silent as you took in Alcina's words, your heart hurt just imagining how she must've felt. Someone she trusted betrayed her. Someone she loved but didn't love her back the way they pretended to. Your hand stopped running through Alcina's hair. You tilted Alcina's head up so that you could look into her eyes before you pressed our lips to hers. You put all of your love for her into that kiss and the tiny kisses you gave her after you pulled away.

"I promise I won't ever hurt you like that, Alcina. I'll protect you any and every way that I can even if I can't go the distance that you can go to protect me. I'm not like you, I'm not immortal, but I won't let that stop me from protecting with everything that I have." You said into her ear before kissing the side of her face. "Do you understand that, Alci? I'll never let anybody hurt you like that again, I promise." Alcina gave you a bright smile before pulling you in for another kiss.

"I know, Y/N. You treat me far better than most, floarea mea mica." Alcina whispered against your lips. "I know that that was a lot, but thank you for listening and loving me." You nodded your head, not trusting yourself to form words. Alcina repositioned the two of you, your head now laying in the crook of her neck. "Get some sleep, Iubirea mea." Alcina said before she kissed the top of your head. You pressed a small kiss to her neck before drifting off to sleep. You really hoped that Alcina knew that you'd go to hell and back just to protect her just like you knew that she would.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #this is really sad #sorry

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aereres · 3 years

Text

Stuck On You - Cale Makar

Summary: What started as a friendship between you and Cale takes a turn during one of the best summer vacations of your life - a week in a campsite with your new friends from Colorado.

A/N: A self-indulgent Cale fic, who would have thought lmao. Definitely not my best work but I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: a couple swear words, mentions of break-up

Summer. Summer held something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the road trips with music blasting from your car’s speakers, or the endless nights spent drinking cheap beers with strangers while sitting on docks. Maybe it was the seasonal loves, the ones you’d talk about with your friends after coming home, or maybe it was the memories.

Summer had always been something you had never missed, no matter how hard school got, or how good your job paid people to stay during the hottest months of the year; and, in Colorado, it wasn’t any different.

You were gasping for breath when you finally reached the perfect spot for camping, your backpack heavy on your shoulders as your friends walked past you. The excited giggles that left their lips joined the sound of birds chirping as they pushed their own belongings on the ground.

“Oh my God,” Johanna laughed, Andre’s arm wrapped around her shoulders as she looked around the empty side of the forest your getaway was going to take place in. “This place is beautiful,”

“It is,” Sydney said from beside her, eyes cast on her bag as she started to take some stuff out.

You were still taking the beautiful view in, a smile on your lips as you realized that summer was finally starting. A new summer, you thought, with new friends and a new spot.

“Y/N, just come here already!” Andre yelled from the distance, pushing you out of your trance. “Your tent is not gonna build itself,”

“I’m coming,” you giggled, jokingly rolling your eyes your friend’s way as you pushed your backpack down your shoulders, looking around for an empty space for yourself.

“I’m here-”

The breathless words were mumbled behind you, making you turn around quickly to find a flushed face. Cale’s cheeks were their usual dark shade of red, sweat lining his forehead as he tried to gain back his breathing.

“Oh- hi, Cale,” you smiled, heart fluttering when your eyes met his face. “You doing okay?”

“I was a little late,” he mumbled, waving JT’s way before his eyes gently settled on you. It seemed like he had realized you were there in front of him just then, his body tensing as a small smile formed on his lips. “Hi, Y/N,”

“Oh my God,” Nate huffed. “I’ll literally let the two of you sleep with the bears if you don’t start with the tents,”

“Fine, fine. You guys are annoying as hell,” you mumbled, brushing past him to reach one of the last two empty spots, throwing the bag that held your tent on the ground. The paper that slipped out of the opened zipper was filled with instructions, the words so small you almost struggled to read through them. If it wasn’t already difficult enough, the drawings explaining how to set up the tent weren’t helping, either.

You were just starting to understand something when your friends’ loud laughter filled your ears, along with the sound of bottles of beer being opened. You laughed to yourself, taking one of the many thin poles in your hands as you tried to figure out where it was supposed to go, one of your palms burying itself in your hair.

You had never been the greatest at building things, and you weren’t surprised when you grew close to calling one of the guys and ask for their help. Their tents had been built in less than half an hour, helping you prop up yours wasn’t going to be too difficult. Right?

“Here, give it to me. I’ll help you,” the familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts, as deep as you remembered it to be. Cale was standing beside you, arms folded over his chest as he gave your work a quick look, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Never been camping?”

“Not really,” you giggled awkwardly, handing him the item in your hand as he figured the mess out. His feet carried him to the left side of the tent, sliding the first part of the tube in its place.

“Alright, go on the other side,”

With Cale’s help, building a tent had never been easier. He knew what to do and where to start, he honestly made it look easy. Your shelter was ready after just a couple of minutes, and you found yourself smiling Cale’s way as soon as he mumbled a quick ‘we’re done’.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, taking his place by your side again as the two of you gave the results one last look. “Looks better than mine down there,”

You giggled, turning around to wrap an arm around him, pulling him in a quick hug. “Thank you so much,” you said, pushing a stray hair out of your eyesight. “Wouldn’t have made it, without you,”

“You’re welcome,” Cale said rather rushedly, his cheeks blushing slightly. You weren’t able to see the way he flushed, though, turning around way too quickly to unpack your bag and getting the last few things for your shelter out.

As you pushed your phone out of your pocket, you realized just then how messily the butterflies in your stomach were dancing. And it was all because of Cale.

The sounds of the fireplace were comforting you as everyone enjoyed the first night of the summer together with a beer in hand. Loud laughter was coming from the Avalanche players, and you could hear a few laughs and giggles coming from your own friends, too.

“I can’t believe they gave you a penalty, man,” Tyson admitted, referring to Nathan’s last call on the ice that cost the team a power-play goal. “It was a clean hit and we all saw that,”

“Yeah, man,” EJ agreed, tipping his head back as he finished his beer.

“Call was ridiculous,” Nate agreed, shrugging slightly to signal the end of the conversation before letting an arm wrap around his girlfriend. “What have you been up to, Y/N? You’re the only one we don’t see too often,”

You chuckled at his words, shaking your head as you swallowed the last piece of s’more in your mouth. “Just been working, trying to get a promotion,”

“You go, girl,” Johanna cheered, making you laugh. “And Christian?”

The laughter left your body as soon as your ex was mentioned, the last words of your final argument repeating themselves in your mind. “Christian?” Was all you were able to mumble, eyes cast on the fire as you buried your hands in the pockets of your hoodie.

“Your boyfriend,” Susanna stated, making you chuckle out bitterly.

“Well, ex-boyfriend,” you sighed, shrugging when you looked up to see a few shocked faces. “Broke up a few months ago, now,”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Mikko yelled, his voice loud over the mixed words of shock from your friends.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, casting your eyes to your lap as everyone kept talking, slowly starting to express the way they all almost despised your ex. Nathan - and his girlfriend agreed with him - said something about Christian hitting on his girl, Tyson complained about the fact that he had never seemed to treat you good, and all the girls agreed with him.

Thinking about your break-up on the first day of your summer vacation wasn’t something you had planned, so you silently kept to yourself, hoping the conversation would drop quickly. Your eyes lifted up from the orange flames of the fire, finding the stars illuminating the dark sky, so subtle yet so beautiful. All the voices of your friends were silenced as you admired the beauty of the night, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in finally leaving your lips.

A gentle hand nudged your elbow, your attention snapping towards the person to your right in a quick second. Staring back at you was Cale, a soft smile on his lips as he held a stick with a roasted marshmallow between the two of you. “For you,”

“For me?”

“I know you love roasted marshmallows,” he mumbled, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Just thought of making one for you, I guess,”

A small smile formed on your lips at his kindness, cheeks burning as you accepted the stick. “You’re too sweet, Cale,” you mumbled, your shoulder leaning against his as you grabbed the candy from the top of the branch, pushing it in your mouth.

He grabbed his own marshmallow and slid it in his mouth, your eyes meeting as you silently looked at each other. His cheeks grew bigger from the size of the candy, a small piece of it coloring the side of his mouth.

You giggled, his own laughter following yours as you swallowed. “Hang on, Cale,” you mumbled, coming closer to him as you tried to ignore your heartbeat picking up its pace. “You’ve got something-”

Your palm cupped his scarlet cheek, warm against your skin as your thumb smoothed the sticky substance away, your eyes barely leaving his as the two of you sat back in place. Both of your heartbeats were loud, cheeks burning as you acted as if the closeness hadn’t affected you in any kind of way.

You silently hoped nobody had paid attention to the two of you, knowing the guys wouldn’t hold down the chirping; but when you looked back at the team and wags, they all seemed to be too focused on their conversation to even notice Cale’s burning cheeks, or your fingers slightly touching.

You were the first one to wish everyone a good night, that day, to retrieve in your tent and listen to your heart beat loudly. You felt like a teenager again, feeling just so jittery after the interaction with the man you had always spent too much time looking at, and had always looked for whenever you’d join the group at any kind of event.

You had always repressed whatever you had been feeling for Cale, pushed it to the side to avoid any kind of rejection. But the way Cale smiled your way, the way he helped you out whenever he could, the way he tried to find subtle ways to gently touch you.

Something in you, that night, was guessing that your feelings might have been mutual.

-----

“Does this happen every time you guys go camping?” You asked Sydney breathlessly as you took a look at the hiking path in front of you. You were already two hours into the hike, the guys all walking ahead of you as if the uphill path wasn’t tiring them, at all. “Like, do you ever get a break when hiking with the boys?”

“Nope,” Sydney giggled from beside you, stopping in her tracks to take a sip of her water. “You’re a newbie to our camping trips, you’ll get used to it,”

You laughed along with her, looping your arm around hers as you followed the rest of the group through the sunrays-lit forest, sweat threatening to line your forehead. Walking in front of everyone was Cale, laughing along with Nate as you watched him, a smile of your own forming on your lips.

The moments of the previous night kept repeating in your mind as you silently walked, hoping the man living in your mind wouldn’t notice the fondness in your eyes whenever he looked your way.

“So, you and Cale?”

The words leaving Sydney’s mouth had your cheeks burning, the smile on your face quickly turning sheepish as you kept walking. “What about me and Cale?”

“C’mon,” she laughed, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “Last night?”

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, shaking your head slowly as you looked at the path in front of you. “That was nothing,”

“Nothing?!” She cried exasperatedly, pushing your shoulder as she kept walking. “You looked like you were going to make-out on the spot,”

“That’s not true,”

“That’s more than true, Y/N,” she laughed, silence settling between the two of you after her teasing words. Maybe you and Cale hadn’t been that smooth, you thought. Her elbow was quick to hit your ribcage after a few minutes, her eyes finding yours again as a small smirk formed on her lips. “He’s single, you’re finally single. You should give it a thought,”

“It’s just a stupid, small crush,” you admitted. “Nothing more,”

“Then why not try and see where things would lead?” She stated, knowing she was right. “I’ve never seen Cale act like that,”

“Like what?”

“Like a smitten teenager,” her honesty had you laughing, your head shaking as you were the one to push her shoulder, that time. When your laughter died down, her voice made its way inside your ears. “But really, you should try,”

She didn’t give you time to give her a response, slipping away from you to reach her boyfriend’s side, who had called her name. You were left on your own once again, staring ahead of you, your eyes focused on the back of Cale’s head as you struggled to keep up with the group.

Was it so easy to notice? The way your cheeks would heat up, or the way your smile would turn giddy as soon as he’d be close enough to have your fingers brushing against his. Was it that easy?

“C’mon, Y/N! We’re almost there!” EJ yelled from the front, his toothless smile shining from the distance as he walked backward. You laughed, throwing your head back for a quick second before meeting eyes with a smiley Cale standing by his side.

His cheeks were their usual scarlet color, hair slightly tousled from being pushed back too many times, but he still looked like the kind of person who would steal your heart in no time.

“Good night, Y/N,” Tyson was the last person to leave the fireplace, a smile on his face as he walked towards his tent, the silence of the night engulfing you in a warm embrace.

Your eyes drifted up towards the sky - as they always did - and found the patterns of stars painting it. The moon was shining brightly that night, its rays illuminating your face as you silently thought about your day. And Cale.

The hike had gone surprisingly well: the various hours under the hot sun had been worth it, the view from the top of the mountains so beautiful you could never forget it. But you couldn’t just forget Cale, his lingering touches, and the way his eyes would be staring deeply at you whenever they could.

When he had helped you down a particularly high, rocky step, your breath had hitched, the feeling of his rough yet gentle hands on your waist pushing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. You were sure you had never felt so deeply connected to someone, the way Cale was making you feel just so unknown to you. You didn’t want things to end.

“You sure you’ll be okay out here on your own?”

Your head snapped towards the source of sound, the nest of tousled blond hair you knew too well finding your eyes in less than a second. “Yeah, don’t worry, Cale,”

Your gaze fell back on the stars, ignoring the sound of his footsteps until the shuffling of his body next to yours snapped you out of your thoughts again. “The stars are beautiful, tonight,” was all Cale mumbled as your shoulders touched.

“City pollution doesn’t do them much justice,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around your folded legs as you sent him a quick glance. “I should probably come here more often,”

“It’s such a nice place,” Cale stated, a layer of comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Your body leaned against his on its own command, your head almost resting on his shoulder as the sounds of the crickets surrounding you pushed you into a state of calmness.

His body seemed to tense for a second, but his arm wrapped around your middle when he realized there was nothing you wanted more than to feel him close to you. He was silent for a few minutes - just enjoying your closeness and the warmth your body held - before letting his eyes close.

You didn’t recall walking back to your tent, the next morning when you woke up, but his hoodie still covering your body was a tell-tale sign Cale had brought you back after a while. You buried your flushed face in your pillow, that morning, the sun warming up your tent as you still felt Cale close to you.

Did he feel the same way?

-----

“Oh. My. God. Y/N!” Johanna yelled, trembling as the chilly water of the lake hit her back, all thanks to your splashing. You giggled at her exaggerated reaction, dipping underwater to escape any of her splashes as she tried to look for revenge.

The sun was setting after another long hike, its reflection painting the lake an orange shade as you cooled down, enjoying the last day of the vacation with the team. It was a summer you were going to remember, but you felt stressed, in some kind of way.

Your heart was beating for someone, and that someone was Cale. You had never felt as close to him as you did on the trip, and you felt like something was going to happen. Eventually.

But the trip was coming to its end: you’d have to go home and get back to your schedule, the guys would go back in full swing to their own jobs, and you weren’t ready to give up on the progress you and Cale had made, not yet. It felt as if the universe wanted you to be happy, giving you Cale and feelings you just couldn’t hold back, and just a small time to find your happiness.

The water had stopped moving around you, and you realized just then that Johanna had left, and you were - yet again - on your own. The water had started to cool down even more due to the dark clouds already painting the sky, pushing you to sit on the dock with a towel wrapped around your shoulders to warm up.

The world seemed to grow quiet as you watched the clouds move, reminding you of the sleepless night you were going to spend in your lonely tent due to the upcoming rainstorm. You smiled, though, taking a deep breath as the sound of laughter from the distance slowly put your world back into motion.

“You’re going to get a cold,”

“Would be worth it,” you giggled, watching Cale move until he was sitting next to you on the dock. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, dinner’s almost ready,” he mumbled, his own eyes falling on the sky. You hummed, wrapping the towel tighter around your shoulders as you scooted closer to him.

“I’m going to miss this,” you whispered truthfully, your cold fingers busy on the strings of your bikini. “Camping, nights in front of the fireplace, you guys,”

“Same,” Cale admitted. “I don’t want it to end, you know? I’m going to miss you,”

Your heart fluttered at his words, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a spiral for a quick second as he kept talking. “And it’s stupid to say, because I see you just so often,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m going to miss you, and what happened between us here,”

You took a second to let his words sink in, just how quickly they made your body feel warm and how they made you feel like a teenager in love all over again. “It doesn’t have to end, Cale,” was all you whispered, your eyes meeting his as you let your heart beat loudly, not caring if anyone heard it.

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same way,” he said, honesty slipping from his lips as he let a hand cup your cheek tenderly.

“And I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, either,” you giggled, your chest warming up unexpectedly when his lips brushed up in a smile. You admired him, letting your eyes rake across his eyes, then his nose, his rosy cheeks, and - soon after - his lips. “Promise me we won’t let this go to waste,”

“We won’t,” he whispered back, his free hand lacing with yours as your lips finally met. Your world felt complete, at least, it seemed like it. With his hands on you and his gentle kisses, you felt alive, you felt like you were finally home.

One of his kisses turned into two, and two turned into three. As warm as he made you feel, your body heat was lowering and you had to pull away with clattering teeth before you bit his lip a little too hard. Your foreheads met for a moment, your eyes closing as you spent one last moment with him, the closeness having you weak.

“You’re freezing,” he stated, eyes carefully taking notice of your purple lips and shaking limbs. “Let’s go, you need to get changed before you die on me,”

“I’m fine, Cale,” you giggled, taking his hand to stand up with him before you started to head towards your camping spot, where the rest of the team was making dinner. His hand stayed in yours as he led you towards your tent, not caring - or worrying - if your friends saw.

Dinner was quite uneventful after that. You ate in silence as you missed Cale’s touch, a smile on your lips as you caught him staring your way from the distance. You didn’t set up the fireplace, that night. Rain started to hit your skin by ten, and everyone pretty much understood your last night had come to an end.

You had wished Cale goodnight with a subtle squeeze of his hand before heading towards your tent, sliding under your covers as you thought about the events of the day. Your mind went back to the man that stole your heart, thinking about the way your heart would stutter every time he’d look your way, or just how quickly your mood could change when his skin touched yours.

Saying you were stuck on him was an understatement.

The tiredness from the activities started to kick in - your eyes feeling quite heavy as you pushed your phone away from you - but the sounds the rain made, the fear of a storm and just what it could cause, they were keeping you up.

The raindrops were hitting the fabric of the tent harshly, and as much as you tried to relax, you just couldn’t. It was well past midnight when an idea popped in your mind, but you just couldn’t. It was too much, and too early.

You rolled to your side, your air mattress making a squeaking noise as you did so. It was too early. Your phone vibrated, pushing you out of your thoughts as the screen lit up, a new message waiting to be read.

I’m outside your tent.

Your brows furrowed at Cale’s text, looking up to see that, in fact, someone was standing outside your tent. You crawled towards the entrance, pushing the zipper down until the cold hair of the night hit your face, and your eyes met Cale’s frame.

“What the hell are you doing here? You’re going to catch a cold!”

“Would be worth it,” he repeated the words you had used earlier that day. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” you whisper-yelled, almost dragging him inside before you closed the tent back up. “What are you doing here, Cale?”

“I noticed you couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, sitting on the edge of your mattress as his eyes stayed on your features even in the darkness of the night. “And I couldn’t sleep either,”

You giggled, shaking your head when you had realized you had had the same idea at the same time. You had been so close to joining Cale in his tent to relax and let all your worries leave your body, but he had beaten you at your own game.

With your last ounce of courage, you pressed a quick kiss to his blushing cheek, pulling him along with you to lay on the mattress. “Just come here,”

You were facing each other after you slipped under the covers again, his eyes staring into yours as you felt your body snuggle closer to his at its own command. One of his arms wrapped itself around your body, pulling you even closer as you felt a tender kiss being pressed to the crown of your head.

“Get some rest,” he whispered in your hair, your face buried in the crook of his neck as he talked. “I’ll be here in the morning,”

“Good night, Cale,”

“Good night, Y/N,”

Morning came quickly, too quickly for your liking. The sun was weakly lighting up your tent, its rays shining against Cale’s skin just right. He was still with you - as he had promised - and you were sure there was no better way to wake up than to open your eyes and see Cale, before anyone else.

He was breathing shallowly, eyes still closed as his arms kept tight around your waist, no sign of him waking up just yet. Your heart was a fluttering mess: you’d gone from complete strangers, to friends, to what seemed like lovers. And, God- you didn’t want it to end.

One single digit of yours ghosted over his soft cheek, starting to trace his features as lightly as it could as you admired him with all you had, hoping he wouldn’t wake up from your motions. A long sigh left his lips at your touch, eyelids squeezing for a quick second before he let them open.

“Good morning,” he grumbled, voice gravelly as he closed his eyes for another moment.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered, retrieving your hand as he pulled you closer. “Slept well?”

“Yes,” he dragged the last letter, the smile on his lips making you giggle. “You?”

“Like a baby,”

“That’s good,”

Silence settled between you as you enjoyed his warmth, brain running way too quickly at just eight in the morning while you traced shapes on his clothed chest. “They’re gonna chirp the hell out of us,” you giggled.

“Oh, God,” Cale chuckled, his palm landing on his face as he remembered about his restless teammates. “Might as well just die in here,”

You giggled, tugging the tent’s zipper open and grabbing his hand to get him out of your bed. “Just let them talk,” you whispered in his ear before stepping outside, stretching your limbs. His quite taller frame struggled to exit the tent, but when he did, a chorus of gasps surrounded you.

“I knew it!” Johanna yelled, receiving a slap from a sleepy Sydney when her loud voice scared her. “I fucking knew it!”

“Cale is getting it, guys!” Tyson said loudly, making Cale’s cheeks heat up.

“Shut the fuck up, Josty,” you spat out jokingly, pushing his shoulder as you found an empty spot to sit on. “Don’t chirp my boyfriend,”

The weight of Cale’s body sitting next to you was enough to distract you for a second, but his thick voice in your ear really took your breath away. “Boyfriend?”

You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently before sending him a quick smile. “Only if you want to,”

He hummed, jokingly leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage. “I’ll think about it,”

Breakfast was over in a rush, and you found yourself packing your belongings with sad sighs leaving your lips every now and then. Even though summer had barely just reached its peak, you weren’t ready to leave the memories of the camping trip behind just yet.

On the hike back to the parking lot, your hand stayed in Cale’s. It fit in his palm so easily you couldn’t help but think you were never going to stop holding his hand, as pathetic as it sounded. The air was chilly, and it held sadness as you two and the rest of the group walked back to your cars.

“I don’t want this to end,” Susanna said, hugging you tightly as you all said goodbye. “I’m going to miss you girls,”

“We’ll find a way to see each other, babe,” Sydney reassured her as they embraced each other.

“Y/N,” Nate greeted you with a smile, a smirk on his lips as he hugged you. “I’m hoping to see you at our next game with an eight on your back,”

You punched his shoulder jokingly when you parted ways, laughing along with him. “I’ll miss you too, Nate,”

Your last goodbyes were sad, numerous people piling in cars as you waved their way, your back resting against your car as you sighed softly.

“So,” Cale mumbled from behind you, stepping closer to your frame as he looked down at you. “Would be interested in our next game’s ticket and my personal jersey, as Nate suggested?”

You giggled, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I mean, maybe,” you joked, biting on your lip as you let your eyes meet.

“As my girlfriend, you should probably say yes,” he said, looking down at you with a smirk as he gave you no time to respond, his lips meeting yours in a kiss.

“Girlfriend?”

He matched the smile on your face, leaning down to press another kiss before mocking your words from that morning. His voice was smooth, making your heart beat faster than usual, the butterflies in your stomach so crazy you were worried he could feel them.

“Only if you want to,”

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