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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

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

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

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

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

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

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

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

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,” he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

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sokkascroptop · 3 years

Text

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 26

part 1 | part 25

a/n: no matter how long you have been here, just know i'm extremely grateful for anyone who's read this fic. now here's the latest chapter.

Sometimes it felt like the days dragged on. Each and every hour was laid out just like the day before–the week before. It made time seem endless, even though Y/N knew it definitely was not. Sozin’s Comet was getting closer and closer each day. Y/N didn’t know if it was the anticipation for that long fated day or if it was some buried fire bender gene in her body, warning her of something to come. She could feel it deep within her bones. She woke up earlier and earlier each day, no matter how late her night ended up. And each day the sun greeted her with warm yellow light that made the air a little easier to breathe.

As they moved further south and into Fire Nation territory, Zuko made mention of Ember Island as a place to hide out. The island–or chain of islands, really–were close enough to Caldera City that it would be a good place for them to lay low and wait, as well as uninhabited by enough people that they could lay low.

Y/N thought it was a little risky to be living in the Fire Lord’s Ember Island house, but Zuko was probably right, this was going to be the last place anyone would look for them. Maybe Y/N was just unsettled about being back, so close to Caldera City, or maybe it was being back on Ember Island for the first time since she was 9.

Somewhere between the temple and the beach house, Y/N tired of training. It just added to the monotony, and so she just…stopped. Instead, she spent her days on the beach, sometimes alone–often with the others though–playing in the tide pools and skim-boarding on the sand. And sometimes, if she felt like she didn’t have enough time on her own to recharge, she’d leave in the night, either through her window or the front door to take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Only to come back and wake up a few hours later, ready for sunrise.

Today was no different, though the sun was already peeking over the horizon and into her room when her eyes peeled open.

The wooden floors creaked under Y/N’s feet as she crept out of her room silently.

Each board was smooth under her bare toes, not well-worn by many little feet running across them year after year but made that way before they were even built into the house, for no doubt a hefty fee. The beach house was… cold, to say the least. It just felt like each pore of the house seeped something uninviting, reminding them that they shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t just Y/N who felt it, they all spent as little time as possible in the house.

She padded into the kitchen and struck their flint to start a fire under the stove–mostly unneeded since Zuko had joined their group–but wholly necessary when he wasn’t around to be their fire-starter. Y/N didn’t mind doing it this way, it felt nice being able to do something with her own hands for once instead of relying on the others to make clean water or heat up the food. She boiled just enough water for one cup of tea before heading out to the courtyard where she knew at least two of her friends would be awake.

Y/N didn’t like feeling optimistic. It was a terrifying feeling. There was so much riding on their success; she didn’t want to spend so much energy on hoping only to have it all dashed away if things didn’t go their way. It would be too heartbreaking. But watching Aang, she could. They weren’t even sparring and she could see the power behind every blast of fire. And she had hope for their future. She had to; she wasn’t going to lose her friends.

“You’re doing that one wrong,” Y/N said from the shadows on the porch. She held her warm cup to her chest, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was keeping the courtyard chilly until the sun could rise high enough to heat the island.

Aang didn’t seem too surprised to hear her voice. “Doing what wrong?” He asked, confused.

Zuko frowned up at Y/N from his seat on the steps but nodded to Aang. “She’s right, you have to dip further down so when you come up the fire creates more of an arc.”

Aang pushed through a few more poses before Zuko stood up and joined him. Y/N stole his seat and pulled her legs up to cross them. She watched as they moved in tandem, working though the most basic of firebending forms all the way up to a few advanced ones. Memories flooded Y/N’s head so fast it made her dizzy. She remembered sitting just like she was now, watching her two brothers work through their forms when she was younger. On chilly mornings, much like today, she would wrap herself in a blanket nest and sip on tea that was much too sweet as they worked well into mid morning. In a sudden rush of affection she realized she was doing much of the same thing, just years and years later.

Aang had learned fast. That was good. She set down her empty cup as the two boys headed back to her, both sweaty from their training. “Good job, Aang! You’re doing great!”

Aang beamed with pride. “Thanks, Y/N!

“Don’t be so encouraging, he’s still got a lot to learn,” Zuko grumbled, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

Y/N pouted. “He needs encouragement. That’s how he learns.” Y/N learned that from watching the differences between Katara teaching styles and Toph’s teaching styles.

“Speaking of firebending,” Aang kicked his feet against the edge of the steps and looked around like he was avoiding something. “How did you know about the firebending forms?”

Zuko leaned back on his hands. “I’d like to know that too.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I watched my brothers for years, religiously learning all the forms and practicing them on my own. I wanted to be just like them. I guess I still remember them.”

Aang frowned. “It’s not like you couldn’t bend on purpose.”

Y/N was surprised to see Aang look so sad. “I know.” She shrugged and looked away feeling her cheeks redden with both boys staring at her. “I just wanted to be normal so people would stop paying attention to me for the wrong reasons.” She mumbled.

“It made you a better sword fighter,” Zuko said suddenly.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The discipline and movements. You do the same when you’re fighting.”

“I’ve never noticed, but you’re right, Zuko!” Aang exclaimed.

The thought made Y/N smile. “That was nice of you.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but let the smallest hint of a smile grace his lips.

She looked back to Aang, who still looked a bit hesitant. “Don’t worry about me. How about we go swimming? Before the others wake up!”

Aang perked up immediately. “That sounds great! Let’s go, Zuko!”

Y/N and Aang stood, both looking down at Zuko, who just stared at the ground between his feet. She could already hear him saying no, telling them that he needed to train more or meditate and didn’t have time to run off and play games.

Y/N opened her mouth to tell Aang that the two of them could still go but Zuko spoke up before her. “Yeah, okay.”

Sometimes even on those long, dragging days, it was the little things that made everything better; like playing in the surf with two of your friends.

---

That evening though, Y/N was back where she had started the day, and had decided that everyone in her group of friends, save for maybe Zuko, talked way too much. She craved those moments alone where she just had her thoughts to occupy her. Especially when she had a lot on her mind.

Y/N didn’t want to admit she felt stuck inside with Aang and Katara while everyone else was outside enjoying the evening, but she also felt guilty in turning down their request to help make dinner to just wander around on the beach until sunset. She didn’t help out much with making meals, and she felt obligated to help when she could.

So she was there, sitting on the dinner table, lotus style with a knife and a cutting board and a basket of carrots in need of chopping at her side.

“What else can I do, Katara?” Aang dumped some of the vegetables he was cutting into the stew Katara was currently stirring over the stove.

“Hmm, can you go out and get some more water to make the rice?” Aang grinned and nodded, before running out of the house towards the side of the house where there was a small barrel of collected water.

Y/N smiled to herself at the interaction and continued cutting carrots for Katara, trying not to let her mind wander, but it was hard with the monotonous work and the bad spot she was sitting in.

Just in front of her was the window where she had watched Zuko and Aang train while she made tea that morning, now it showed Zuko and Sokka doing their own training.

Y/N was struggling with more than just feeling like she didn’t belong on the Island. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Sokka, or if she was even going to say anything about her feelings at all. Without the constant traveling and the safety of a hideout, she was able to just stop and let those feelings and thoughts she had been holding back with a dam of fear wash over her.

It was all really confusing for Y/N. And hard to admit.

She didn’t want to face the awkward conversation of asking whether he could always be there for her. She didn’t want to beg him to never leave because she was so insecure. She was so afraid of losing everything and everyone that she was going to do just that because she was afraid of opening up.

What would happen if she never told Sokka she loved him back? Did she even love him back? What did love feel like?

Love with Azula felt like fire, sometimes it burned painfully, but in the good times it filled her with a warmth like never before. Zuko’s friendship felt the same, but it was less like sitting too close to the fire and more like sitting just in the right place where it didn’t dry out your eyes but didn’t make goosebumps grow on your arms. Sokka always felt like a cool breeze, one where you lift your face up to the sky and smile because it always feels like relief. But that’s not what Y/N is used to. How does she know if it’s love if it doesn’t hurt a little bit? How does she know that it's real if she doesn’t have to give all of herself until she is worn to nothing to make it work?

It wasn’t that she was afraid to care for him, she had made it clear that she did. It was just easier on her heart to keep him at a distance for now until she figured they were inevitably part ways. That’s how Y/N saw this all ending. Separated across oceans, back to where they came from, whatever the outcome of the war. Y/N wanted to dream of the possibilities and opportunities where they could be together in the long run, but those were just that, dreams for another lifetime. People from the Water Tribe didn’t marry people from the Fire Nation.

Everything that she learned over the last few months was that nothing was ever set in stone, so why should she and Sokka be.

Y/N stared out the window, pondering when it would all fall apart and sliced downwards on a carrot, but met nothing but the cutting board. She looked down where the knife was closer to her finger than to the carrots. She let out a little inward gasp.

“What?” Katara turned around and asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Nothing.” She motioned to the cutting board. “Do you want these smaller?”

Katara eyed Y/N and then looked to the cutting board. “They’re fine. But pay more attention, I don’t know how to reattach fingers yet.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden cutting board and her fingers until the others came bustling into the kitchen, all talking at once.

Y/N for the most part ignored everyone, until Sokka reached over and snatched one of the slices of carrots.

Y/N nudged his arm. “Can you wait?! I thought you didn’t like vegetables!”

“Aang got me to like carrots!” Sokka retorted, before quickly reaching around Y/N to grab another and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would you be sitting on the table that we have to eat off of?” Suki wrinkled her nose.

“Uh! Katara said I could!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

Katara whipped around, hands on her hips. “I never said you could, I just didn’t say you couldn’t.” Katara turned back to stirring the stew before muttering under her breath, “Not like telling you no would have made a difference anyways.”

“Hey!” Y/N picked up a carrot and launched it at the back of Katara’s head.

Aang walked back inside carrying a bucket of water, to a kitchen full of chaos. Vegetables were being thrown across the room at one another, as laughter rang out. Sokka, Zuko and Y/N were sprawled on one side of the kitchen behind and under the table; with Suki, Katara and Toph only edging from behind the safety of the kitchen doorway to throw something.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N could hear the exasperation of a 112 year old monk in Aang’s usually cheerful voice.“Uh, guys, what are we supposed to eat for dinner now?”

---

Y/N was dozing against the headboard of her bed that night, when she heard the knock at her door. At first she thought she imagined it, that is until she heard a voice on the other side of the doorway. “Y/N, are you awake?”

Y/N slid out of bed and cracked open the door. She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, a familiar feeling in her chest.

“Are you afraid that there are ghosts here too?”

Sokka grinned and nodded. “In this house? Absolutely. But I’m not here for that.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Come outside with me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Why?”

“Please, just come on. No questions.”

Y/N sighed and reached for an old silk robe she found in one of the closets, but her smile never left her face.

To be fair to Sokka, there wasn’t much to surprise Y/N with on an island she grew up on. But that night, the sky momentarily took her breath away.

Sometimes the simplest things were the most beautiful.

“I thought we could come out here; look at the stars a bit. I used to like doing that at home. Though it’s different. The constellations aren’t the same where I’m from.”

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you some.”

Together they laid side by side on the roof, and Y/N pointed out her favorites. The dragon, the jack-rabbit...

After Y/N had told Sokka the story of the Red Queen, some ancient fable of a powerful Fire Lady that was always one of Y/N’s favorites, they both grew quiet, Y/N asked the question that had been brewing on her mind. She worried that whatever she said would mess up the peaceful night they had been having. It felt like she was intruding on a secret that she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Hey, Sokka,” Y/N asked.

“Hmmm,” She looked over and Sokka looked about half asleep already. Maybe this would be good timing.

“Who’s Yue?”

Sokka’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. “What?”

Y/N could feel her face flush. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yue.” The word sounded flat and foreign on her tongue. Maybe that wasn’t how you actually pronounced it? Some of the Water Tribe names and words were hard for Y/N’s mouth to form. If she could, she flushed deeper. “I heard you talking about them when I was hurt. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember much, but I remember the name.”

Sokka suddenly looked very sad. Which was… odd because Y/N just thought that Yue was a Water Tribe spirit much like the Fire Nation had Agni.

“She’s the moon spirit,” Sokka whispered, his eyes cast down on his wringing hands.

Y/N eyes were wide. Why was he acting like this? “Oh. I figured she was a spirit or something. It sounded like you were praying to her, or something.”

“Yeah,” Sokka choked out. “Something like that.”

That’s when Y/N noticed there were drips of water on Sokka’s hands. Tears.

“Sokka?” Y/N said softly. She reached forward and–yup those were tears, dripping on their hands.

“She was a girl I met at the Northern Water Tribe when we first started traveling.”

“I thought she was…”

“She is.” For the first time, Sokka looked up. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. “But she was still a girl when I met her.”

Sokka launched into a story that sounded more fantasy than real, but the look on his face, the sadness in his features, Y/N knew he was telling the truth.

“She was blessed by the moon spirit when she was born, it was the only reason she was alive. But when we were in the Northern Water Tribe—Zhao, a Fire Nation commander killed the moon spirit and all the water benders lost their bending, forever.” Sokka shivered. “It was scary, the moon was gone in the sky and we were helpless to fight the Fire Nation. It would have changed the tide of the war.

But she was selfless. She knew that she was the only hope for her tribe—for the world—and she sacrificed herself to save all of us. So now she’s the moon spirit…I guess. I don’t know, she’ll always be Yue to me.” Sokka’s voice trailed off with a sniffle. Y/N didn’t know how to respond.

Sokka sent a longing glance upward. The moon was just past full, waning in the far distance but still bright and round in the sky. “I think–I think she heard me that night. And she knew how much you meant to me, even then. And she saved you because…” Now it was Sokka’s turn to flush. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

Those words made Y/N’s chest burn. Her arms and legs tingled in relief as if all the tension in her body began to melt away. Y/N reached out, wiping a stray tear off of Sokka’s cheek. “Me either,” she replied instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“’m not. Sad, really. I miss her, but it’s easier to always know where she is. She didn’t have a lot of choice in her life, but this was something she had control over. If she hadn’t become the moon spirit, the war would have ended right there. So her sacrifice meant that, you know, Zuko is our friend now and Aang has a chance at beating the Firelord and you have a place in all our lives. She made all of this possible.”

“Sounds like we have a lot more to be thankful to her for than just saving little old me then, huh?”

“You would have liked her.”

Y/N nodded and peered at the moon above them. “I do like her.”

No one else needed to know that after the two of them went inside and off to bed, that Y/N hung halfway out her window to get one last look at the moon. Y/N swore as her eyes closed and sleep overtook her that the moon shone a little brighter. Maybe that’s how the moon said thank you. Y/N’d never tell anyone that she whispered a small thank you too, to the girl who lived among the stars.

a/n: don't be shy, come talk to me in my askbox and tell me if you liked it

taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @creation-magician @lunariasilver @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @solarsuki @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @izzieserra @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103 @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella @sugamonster22 @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @justamessandahalf @perfectlyfadingmusic @atlafanforlife @iris-suoh @chilifrylizard2

179 notes · View notes

pigeonp0st · 3 years

Note

Hi :,) love your fics so so much and I have so many requests so you’ll be hearin from me a bit as long as your requests are open lol! Hope that’s ok❤️ I was wondering if you could write a Nat x reader fic where reader was kidnapped by hydra and tortured and the team finds her and bring her back to the tower but she’s different now she has powers and is extremely mentally scarred?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #7

Words: 2,565

Warnings: Depression, trauma

Notes:

Thank you! I don’t mind at all, thank you for requesting and wanting to in the first place. I think this is my longest fic? Or at least one of...I did it fairly quickly though so sorry for any spelling mistakes and grammar errors.

———

Natasha is scared.

She is more scared than she has possibly ever been, and she’s reckless, and she’s determined, and she’s stupid.

But she finds you. She saves you, and everything else she’s come to regret about the ways she did it, and the way she handled it, doesn’t matter.

She pushes open about the fifteenth door she’s looked through and she sees you, trapped and bloody but alive, tied to a chair, and she’s so full of relief and happiness she doesn’t notice the new haunted look in your eyes.

She rushes towards you, feet pounding on concrete and uncaring of how loud she’s being, and feels tears rush to her eyes.

You’re okay. She saved you.

——-

Natasha is the last person to realize you’re not okay, but perhaps she’s the first to realize the depths of that truth.

She watches you, for the hundredth time since you returned two days ago, and the first ‘wrong’ thing she notices is the way your hand shakes around the spoon you’re eating with.

Then, a couple of hours later she realizes that you’ve hardly spoken.

She hates herself for not noticing sooner, but she has now so she tries to say something, not just about this but about all of the pieces of the broken image Natasha hadn’t allowed herself to see in the relief that she had felt after she had found you.

You’ve always been open and honest with her and she hadn’t thought there’d be a reason for that to change now, but when she asks and reaches out for you you jerk away so fast you almost fall off the bed.

“Don’t touch me, Natasha.”

You growl it out so venomously Natasha is momentary struck frozen. She wonders in the second before you speak again if she has done something wrong.

Then, you release a shaky sad breath and lower your head. “I’m...i’m sorry.”

Natasha says nothing, and so you leave.

—-

“Y/N...she’s not here.”

The mug of coffee Natasha’s holding drops from her hand and shatters violently on the ground. The room is deathly silent, with nothing but the beep from the finished microwave to fill the quiet, and Natasha see’s nothing but you tied and bloodied in the hydra base and hears nothing but the quiet and broken way you had told her you were a “monster now.”

And then she feels nothing but sorrow because this is her fault. She made you pull away, Natasha made you need space from the compound (she asked too many questions again earlier), but she also can’t let you have it.

She is scared again, and she hates how it’s becoming a regular feeling. She’s afraid you're going to get hurt again, so she can’t let you go. Not without her. Not yet.

“I’ll find her,” Natasha grits out, abandoning the glass on the floor and rushing to grab her keys from the kitchen cabinet. “If I don’t in an hour or two i’ll call so you guys can—” Natasha pauses, feeling stupid, “did you...did you call...or text?”

Wanda nods slowly, eyebrows furrowed together. “She answered.”

Everyone waits for Wanda to repeat what you had told her but she doesn’t. Not for a long enough moment that Natasha just considers leaving anyways.

It’s dark out, and it’s thundering, and you didn’t tell anyone you were leaving, so she’s worried. Natasha is worried.

“She said that she needed to escape for a couple of hours, to not come after her, to tell Natasha that she was still breathing.”

A pause. Natasha sets her keys back down.

“She said she was lost, and that she was tired.”

“Lost?” Natasha repeats, her heart stopping for a moment and then leaping into her throat.

“Mentally,” Wanda clarifies, huffing out a sigh.

But you said that you don’t want her to come looking for you, so with all of the will power Natasha can summon she stays, and she waits for you to come home.

——-

Lost, you had told Wanda, but can you be lost when you don’t even remember what you’re searching for anymore. When you don’t remember what it was like to feel ‘home.’

The rain pounds hard on your back, it soaks you wet and makes your clothes stick to your skin the way it did when they were soaked with blood, and it drowns out every noise that isn’t the beat of your heart and the downpour of rain

Hydra had experimented on you and tortured you, and you came out with nothing left of the old you and flames on your hand.

They gave you the power to control fire, to summon fire, to be resistant to it.

That’s what they gave but they took too much more.

The fire you’re supposed to master feels like it’s in you, like it’s burning you away bit by bit and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake, and you’re trying. You tried so hard. You tried to put it out, to stop the change, to reverse it, but you can’t. You can’t so you continue to burn and okay—that was manageable—but it wasn’t supposed to burn Natasha.

It wasn’t supposed to burn your friends.

They look at you now and they see it, Natasha is starting to see it, and you know, you know, you know, they can never love this new you. They will only ache for the loss of the past you—and you never meant to hurt them with change.

There is nothing you can do. All feels lost and hopeless, and you're helpless, so you sit in the rain and shiver with the cold seeping into your skin, and for the first time since you were kidnapped your heart and mind releases itself from the burden of its suffering.

For a moment, looking up at the sky, you’re the old you.

At peace.

——-

You walk into the living room, soaked and dripping water everywhere, and you see Natasha curled up on the couch sleeping.

It stops you in your tracks and has you looking around to check if anyone is there and then moving to crouch by her side to study her.

Even though it feels like every bit of you has changed the love you have for Natasha and the others is still the same. You hadn’t taken time to realize it but it’s such a great relief that you almost release a sob before you manage to bite it down.

The love you have for them is the same, they’re the same, the compound is the same.

As you think about the compound you glance around to see if it truly is the way it was and then you spot a shattered glass mug left on the floor.

It’s Nat’s favorite mug, you realize with a bit of sadness on her behalf.

It isn’t broken too terribly…it’s still recognizable, perhaps it can be pieced back together…

Like you. Maybe. If you still love the way you had, if you still have the memories that you had, maybe it’s enough to make your pieces recognizable enough to be pieced back together.

Or maybe it’s storming outside, and you're soaked to the bone feeling too poetic.

Thunder strikes outside and you jump so violently from both the sound and the images that flash through your head that you almost wake up Natasha.

God, you’re still so pathetic.

With an agonized sigh you push yourself up right again and try to remember where the Avengers keep the super glue.

——

Natasha wakes up slowly then abruptly when she remembers that you’re missing. Fuck, had you not come home last night, Nat wonders, are you hurt, did something happen—

“Y/N fixed your mug,” Clinton says from besides her on the couch, gesturing to the mug on the coffee table. Natasha settles back down. “She said that it probably can’t hold liquid in it anymore, but that if you want to test it and it breaks she’ll fix it again.”

“Where is she?” Natasha asks, ignoring the surge of warmth in her chest in favor of her worry. “Did she look okay?”

“In her room,” he answers, then winces, “or yours.”

“How is she?” Natasha repeats.

Clint thinks about it for a moment. “Physically? I think she’s coming down with a fever. Apparently she was out there in the rain for hours,” He sighs, running a hand through his short hair, “emotionally—”

But Natasha doesn’t let him finish before she’s jumping off the couch and rushing towards your room. You don’t go to hers anymore so when she doesn’t find you in yours she worries that you’ve run again...this time she really can’t let you go. Not while you’re sick.

She can’t—

There’s a note on your bed.

“Stop worrying. I’m in your bed...it’s more comfortable than mine.”

She wishes she could hate how much you know her.

———

When Natasha enters her room it’s to the sound of your raspy coughs and then an out of breath; “i’ve been expecting you.”

Natasha laughs unexpectedly and shakes her head at your ridiculousness. “You’re lighter than usual, despite circumstances,” she says quietly after her laughter dies down.

“Usual,” you repeat, the light in your eyes darkening in an instant. “Usual meaning the past week? Is my...is this me your new normal?”

Natasha doesn’t know what to say, and it seems to make you frustrated.

“You should expect more,” you tell her bitterly, “you should ask for more. You deserve more.”

Natasha steps forward and you physically jolt back. She stops. “You got tortured. What did they do to you?”

You shake your head, once, twice, “stop talking Nat. Stop.”

“You asked me to ask for more. You said I should.”

“I meant other things!” You shout angrily, fire in your eyes. Literally. “I meant you should expect more care, you deserve more than me avoiding you, you—”

“I just want to understand,” Natasha whispers, her shoulders dropping. “I don’t care about anything else, I don’t care if you need to avoid me to deal with things by yourself, but I feel like...like I'm lost too. Like I don’t understand the person I've always understood.”

“Natasha, I'm not ready for you to know me,” you whisper, the weight of her words and your sorrow wrapped around your throat and squeezing out secrets you’d rather keep in.

“You’re not a different person.”

“Yes I am.”

“Hold out your hand.”

You blink at her in shock and confusion but do as you're told. Natasha moves towards you, strides towards you, and you try not to wince, you try not to let the sound of her footsteps bring you to places you’d rather not be.

Her hand reaches for you, you close your eyes—expecting pain because it’s all you ever knew in your haunting week with Hydra—and when you open them again it’s because Natasha has interlaced your fingers.

Her hand...her hand looks the same against yours. It feels the same. She’s touched you since you’ve been back but you were too busy trying not to move away to remember that this used to be the only thing you wanted back when she was just a crush. To hold her hand...then when she became your girlfriend it was a comfort that you thought you’d always seek.

“Is your favorite color still the same?” Natasha asks, voice strong and almost as intense as her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Is your favorite song the same, is your favorite movie the same, is your—”

“All of those things don’t make me who I am,” you stutter, unable to hold her eyes. Where Natasha is strong you are weak. Her strength is the sun, and yours is just a dying light bulb.

“They’re small but they matter,” Natasha insists, looking at you so softly you wonder what she sees.

“Are you still trying?” She asks quietly, “do you still care too much?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in pain,” Natasha notes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and despising the world for the things it’s done to you when you wince. “You’re scared, traumatized, you leave the room when people are being too loud, you constantly look around, you don’t like people being too close,” she stops, tilting her head. “Care to add?”

“I’m...tired. I don’t even want to get up in the morning for fear of what I'll face through the day—just while doing mundane things. I'm so weak it makes me furious.”

Natasha nods, closing her eyes, “you need to run sometimes, you try so hard to look okay around the others sometimes your jaw physically shakes with the effort, you’re hesitant in everything you do now—”

“Okay.” You cut her off, words shaky. “I get it.”

“I love you. Not loved. I love you. I loved you two weeks ago, before all of this, and I love you in this second just the same,” she cups your cheek and you don’t wince. “I hurt for you. I want to know what you’ve been through, I want you to open up to me, but you’re still Y/N, aren’t you? You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” You ask, eyes watering.

“You fixed my mug,” Natasha says, breathing out a short huff of laughter. “Thank you.”

“You loved it, Nat.”

“You hated it.”

And okay. “I need time,” you whisper, “time to process and then slowly maybe I can…maybe I can heal.”

With all of the certainty in the world Natasha says; “you will”, and you believe her. “And if you need time then you have it.” She moves to step back, to drop her hand, but you don’t let her.

You grasp her hand where it is on your cheek and with your eyes you beg her to stay, and then you do with your voice too; “not from you. Just please don’t ask me questions about what happened yet. Can we just…” you sigh, glancing down. “Can we just exist together?”

Natasha looks at you, really looks at you, and she sees how vulnerable you are in this moment, how strong, She sees it in the way your hand shakes against her, in the way—

“Say something,” you beg, exasperated, “please.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says, chuckling at the glare you give her. “I just love you so much sometimes I need a moment,” and then, she says, easily like there is no other option, like she would want nothing else, “Of course i’ll stay.”

And the sorrow wrapped around your throat like a rope only getting tighter, and the trauma burning away at your insides like an imperishable flame, and the anxiety like boulders on your shoulder only keeping you down, it all goes away.

For a moment, you suspect, just like when you were outside in the rain, but the fact that you can feel this way here, with another person in the room this close to you, with nothing there to drown everything out, it gives you hope.

It’s the first time you’ve seen the light in the darkness, but you think that maybe it was always there.

“Thank you, Natasha. For everything.”

She smiles, softly and full of love. “Thank you for everything, too,” and what she’s really saying is; “thank you for giving me you.”

——

For Part 2 click here

(Takes place about a month later)

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neo-shitty · 3 years

Text

all the muggle things. — c.s

description. in which you and san spent the rest of your days after hogwarts getting the muggle experience.

pairings. slytherin!choi san x gender-neutral (wizard) reader (yes, this fic is house friendly)

genre. harry potter/hogwarts!au, fluff

warnings. mentions of injury.

word count. 1.6k

writer’s notes. i don’t know why i never thought of writing a harry potter-inspired au before! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for ateez. i hope this didn’t turn out so bad!

inspired by option #1 (roommates au) + prompt #36 from this list (given by @kathyrncapp835)+ prompt #46 from @ficscafe‘s dialogue prompt event (given by @meaningfulmess). prompt lines are bolded.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ TERMINOLOGY GUIDE :: for the muggles, explained and simplified by yours truly

Muggle - someone who isn’t able to use magic / non-wizard

Lumos - spell that makes the tip of a wizard’s wand light up

Quidditch - a game for wizards that involves flying on brooms and shooting balls through hoops, basically basketball but more complex because there are three hoops and someone’s trying to catch an ‘i-am-speed’ ball that dictates the fate of the game in the end

Sectumsempra - a spell that lacerates the opponent

Wizarding War - the war between Voldemort’s side and Harry’s

Dark Mark - Voldermort’s mark

Nox - counter spell to Lumos that switches the wand’s light off

You tried your best to peer your eyes open when you heard the front door slam shut. You groaned, infuriated at how such simple tasks like breathing and opening your eyes required extra effort whenever you were sick. But getting sick was merely a consequence of your own actions, so you really didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself.

You managed to open one eye, fighting back the heavy eyelid that threatened to shut and you searched the room for other movements besides your own.

“It’s 2AM, go back to sleep,” a voice said. Soon, it’s owner emerged from the shadows of the doorway.

Dressed in his all-black work uniform was San. His whole figure blended into the background too well that it almost seemed like he’d apparated back to your place. But with the faint sound of his footfalls, you concluded that he used the muggle way in.

You turned your head. You considered turning your whole body but everything felt sore and heavy. Plus, you were content with the way the comforter was wrapped around you—which was rare, even on better days. You watched San pass by the living room before heading to the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see him from the living room couch, you could see the shadow casted on the floorboards by the kitchen light he switched on. It danced as he moved around, probably to get a late night snack before heading to bed. You could hear him uttering hushed incantations followed by the faint clattering of kitchen metals.

“I’m glad you didn’t burn the house down while I was gone,” he said from the kitchen.

A smile crept up to your lips at his statement. You opened your mouth to utter a small thank you but you could only manage a whisper. You weren’t even sure if he even heard it from that far.

Moments later, he reappeared by the kitchen doorway. “But you were cutting it a bit too close though,” he continued, clutching a frying pan in his right hand.

The pan—originally gray—was now blackened from the mishap earlier. You had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking your own dinner, only waking up to the smell of burnt meat. The scent had been that thick that it managed to seep through your clogged nostrils. It was that bad. You ended up ordering take out instead. You forgot that you didn’t clean up the evidence.

A croaky laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the accident. San only shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen to put the pan back to the sink. When he came back, he had two cups in hand. He walked over to set both down on their respective coasters on the glass center table of your living room. When he reached over to turn the lights on you stopped him.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” you said, your voice barely audible but he hears it, stopping before the lamp fully on. “They’re too bright. It’ll give me another headache.”

You see his silhouette nod. You could hear him flipping his coat around, shuffling to find something. You didn’t know what he was searching for exactly and you opted to ask him. But you soon find out what it was when you hear him whisper.

“Lumos.”

Where San stood, an orb of light began to glow. You soon realized that the light came from the tip of a stick. He was holding the fir wand in his hand, controlling its brightness until it was just right. Soon, it illuminated the room with a faint light—bright enough for you to see outlines of the room and the furniture scattered but not bright enough to make your eyes water like the lamps did.

He walked over to where you were before leaving his hand outstretched. “Sit up to drink your leaf water,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.

“Leaf water,” you repeated in a hoarse voice before taking his hand in yours, clutching it as you helped yourself up. You crossed your legs, tucking each foot beneath the opposite leg in order to give room on the couch for San to sit.

He handed you your cup of tea before he sat adjacent to you with his own cup in one hand and his wand in the other. Your eyes lingered on the wooden stick he gripped in his hand and on the fingers he had wrapped around it. All his rings were silver, representing the complementing color of his house, Slytherin. Or that was what you remembered of him back when you were still studying at Hogwarts.

You recalled when you used to watch him play Quidditch. He always kissed his rings first before putting on his gloves. He was deemed one of the more valuable players next to their seeker and you were just another student from another house. It wasn’t until your last school year at Hogwarts when you first interacted. The first time you both went beyond the occasional glances you shared whenever you were both in the same class.

Though your first time meeting wasn’t the best setting for the start of something new.

You were tending to one injury after another, working with the school nurse to cater every student who ran to the infirmary for aid or additional support in the form of potions. San had walked in alone and upon catching sight of his green sigil, your first instinct was to cast a spell to disarm him. But he didn’t have his wand raised, nor did he show any indications that he was about to attack. Your guard was up; he was still a Slytherin and fighting for the opposing side.

But he was still a student of the school with a bleeding arm. The rip on his upper sleeve revealed enough of his wound for your body to move on its own without much guidance. You led him to the nearest vacant bed, letting him standby until you got everything you needed from the cabinets.

In the time you were treating the wound, you learned that it took him half the war and a Sectumsempra to the arm (which was originally aimed at his chest; thankfully he was able to dodge it—barely) to realize that he was fighting for the wrong side of the Wizarding War. He was glad he was going to sit out the rest of it and vowed to—and you quote—“Never do stupid shit again.”.

The Dark Mark was still tattooed on his arm, a permanent reminder of decisions that did more harm than good both to him and to the people around him. The tattoo faded over time as the population of evil wizards gradually decreased.

Your brain was hot-wired to never trust a Slytherin. Or at least, it used to be.

Much to your surprise, San did keep his words that night at the infirmary. He spent his years after Hogwarts atoning for all the damage he’d caused, dedicating nearly all his hours into hunting the last of the witches and wizards who still practiced the Dark Arts.

San shifted beside you, leaning against the back of the couch before turning to look at you. He set his mug back down to its coaster before he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“I’m feeling a bit better, don’t worry. I think I’ll be fine by morning.”

“I still don’t get why you let yourself be sick when you can just—” he flicked his wand, “—it away.”

You set your own mug down after taking a sip, only noticing then that he pulled out the matching Hogwarts house coasters. His furrowed expression softened when you held his hand, peeling it off your forehead before sandwiching it between your cold ones.

“I’m trying to experience muggle living,” you answered.

Slytherins normally weren’t the type who liked involving themselves with muggle things, more so with the muggle way of living. But San wasn’t always like other Slytherins. Cheesy, you thought. But it was a fact.

You held his stare when his eyes landed on yours. You knew his mind was brewing some sort of egoistic line or anything short yet clever to say. But you were faster.

“You did well today,” you told him, drawing random shapes and symbols on the back of his palm.

Even after hearing it everyday for the past few years, San’s heart still warmed upon hearing the words leave your lips.

You said it the first time at the infirmary. At first, you were unsure if you were saying it to yourself as he heard you utter it after you patched him up. Later that day, you reassured him that it was meant for him. San, at the time, wasn’t too keen on accepting it. Nothing about what he did that day was worth the praise. But he soon realized you were referring to his decision to right his mistakes instead of staying ignorant.

You haven’t stopped saying it since then. The phrase became more of a part of your routine over time but it still held the same value as the first time you ever said it. You still smiled softly after saying it and you still looked at him fondly like you were genuinely proud of it. San was trained to easily catch whenever people lied—be it in the form of speaking or in acting. But he never found any trace of ingenuity whenever it came to you.

Somehow, that was enough to convince him that he could still make up for mistakes made in the past. It wasn’t too late yet.

You catch the moment the corner of his lips curved up into a smile. One sly finger up, you were ready to—once again—poke the dimple on the side of his mouth.

He hated that. But if he were to be honest, he could never really hate anything you did. One ‘Nox’ and a flick of his wand later, the light on the tip of his wand disappeared—plunging the both of you into complete darkness before your finger could even touch his skin.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath, drawing your hand back and crossing them over your chest.

You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you could tell the smirk from his tone, “Of course you do.”

#san scenarios #san fluff #san blurbs #ficscafe dpe #ficscafe #san #kwritersworldnet #kpopscape #san x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san imagines #ok g what else do i tag #toff.writes

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amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years

Note

My beloved!!! How are you?

For the drabble challenge I was thinking: 93 - “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

100 - “I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance. What if my towel falls off?”

These reminded me of Jonerys 😆 especially your sexy nerdy naughty beans in One Lifetime With You 🤭😏

Thaaank you!😘

ERIKAAAA MY DARLING MY LOVE!!! I’m hanging in there, how are yooooou?🤗🤗🤗 What about…..

...and in the OLWY ‘verse? _______________________________________________________

Gods, what a week. A good, productive week, but also a hell week. Dany had worked enough overtime to take the entire following week off, or so she surmised. It was unfortunate that it didn’t work that way, but a girl could dream. Dream about files and prints and letters upon letters upon letters, it seemed. Work had seeped into her dreams, too.

Earlier that evening, she had stayed a little late to wrap everything up for the weekend. Jon had texted her asking when she thought she’d be off, then later followed up with a photo of some burgers he’d grabbed from a local pub and had brought to his place, which developed into a series of texts that followed with milkshakes, french fries, and then one of the contents of his freezer. In which he had a lineup of five different types of ice cream.

She never needed a bribe to see him, but she was beyond bribed. With each text she chuckled louder and louder, until she was practically drooling on her pristine office floor by the food spread, and all but stuffed the rest of her paperwork into a locked cabinet before dashing out of the office. It was 7:00PM on the button, just as she’d promised him.

When she turned up, she melted into his welcoming arms, the comfort too overwhelming to do much else. He’d scooped her up and brought her into the kitchen where they went over their busy week and about swallowed everything whole.

A little later on, she dozed on his couch after he’d turned a movie on. When next she woke, she hadn’t yet opened her eyes, but her brows pulled into a small frown as she tried to figure out what was slowly grinding over her arse behind her. She hadn’t remembered getting into bed, but that was clear now, as was what was happening behind her.

Jon’s face was nestled into the back of her neck, and she couldn’t be certain if he was completely awake. His slow, rhythmic breathing told her he wasn’t, and she had to bite her tongue to not snort and startle him awake. Slowly, she moved just enough so that she could try to see his face, while his hips went to town against her.

From what she could tell, he was definitely at least half asleep. With a wicked smirk, she went to slip her hand between them, but had only reached the hem of his sweats when his hand caught her wrist. She yelped and buried her giggle into the bed. “Are you awake?” She whispered, her voice a pitch higher.

“Mhm,” he rumbled, then brought her hand back to the front of her and entwined their fingers together, trapping it against the mattress.

Dany peered over her shoulder, behind his solid frame, to check the time. “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’...?”

His lips and beard tickled over her skin. “No...that was all you. But now that you’re awake…”

Dany’s face scrunched at the accusation, though she was getting hot with every slow roll of his hips against her. “I did no such thing!”

“I don’t get this hard just by sleeping, Dany,” he purred, and she fought off a whimper, his hand leaving hers to slide beneath her shirt. Then, under the elastic of her panties - at some point, she’d also foregone any pants, or Jon had rid of them for her since he knew she loathed any chafing against her legs when she slept. She tried not to squirm, bunching the sheets in her fist and mouth falling open once his fingers glided over her cunt. He gathered the wetness that had collected there and spread it over her clit, a strangled groan sounding from her chest. “Told you,” he whispered hotly into her ear, drawing lazy circles with barely any pressure over her clit until she was pressing back against him, suddenly needing more relief.

Jon rolled over onto her back, alleviating some of the pressure as she was gently pressed into the mattress. The brief absence of him told her he was getting himself naked, and she thought she might very well scream if he didn’t move any faster. Seeming to be in the same mental dilemma, his hands swiftly pulled her panties down to her knees, but didn’t bother removing them completely, then spread her open enough so that he could run the length of his cock over her cunt, soaking himself.

Dany gasped, turning her face into the bed and biting on her fist as his breathing stuttered behind her while he worked the both of them up. Jon gripped her hips and brought her up a little higher, to his level, and a sharp nip of teeth to one of her cheeks unexpectedly made her squeal. “You’re such a pain in my ass! Literally!” She giggled, his hands keeping her from reaching him as she attempted to pinch him anywhere she could reach.

His lip was tightly trapped between his teeth as he observed the teeth marks he’d left behind on her bum.

Huffing, Dany pouted pitifully at him over her shoulder. “You’d better make it better.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, he steadied her, a wicked glint in his eye. “Aye, I plan to."

And that he did. Or, at least, she was so tender elsewhere that she didn’t notice the bite any longer. She had been lying in bed, giving herself some time to wake up instead of the usual rushing she did on a work day. Plus, Ghost was perfectly balled up at her feet, content as he slept.

She wasn’t sure if she could trust her legs to function at normal at the moment, anyway. Jon had wanted to take his time when he had her, and she wasn’t complaining; her body had been almost numbed by pleasure while also strung taut like a tether until she inevitably snapped.

But now she was perpetually stuck to the bed.

The bathroom door opened, and she twisted her head to find Jon emerging in all his glory, a towel hanging precariously low on his hips, his hair a nest of wet curls atop his head. Her mouth watered. “Stop,” she commanded, pleased when he did so mid-step, while he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her in silent question. “You owe me a favor since you’ve paralyzed me.”

His head turned to side-eye her as his skepticism grew. “What sort of favor?”

Dany thought on it for a few moments, purposefully taking her time and raking her eyes over him from head to toe. Then, she held her arm out over the edge of the bed, hand stretching for him. “You have to dance to me.”

He pulled a face. “I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance,” he said, then lifted his eyebrows slyly, “what if my towel falls off?”

A devious grin spread across her face. “Get over here and you’ll find out.”

Jon sucked in a deep breath, his hands going to his hips as he psychd himself up, as if this were his true Olympic moment. “You can’t judge me.”

A lazy giggle escaped her, though she was genuinely trying not to laugh, crooking her fingers for him to get on with it. “As if I would ever. Those hips don’t lie, Jon Snow, now bring them here.”

To her complete entertainment, he obliged, although she couldn’t even put a name on what he was trying to do. She brought his knees up and threw her hands over mouth, chortling against her promise that she wouldn’t mortify him, but it was too much. He gave it his all, waltzing across the small space until he ripped his towel off once he’d reached the bed to claim his prize.

Climbing over her, slightly winded, she worked on regulating her breathing while he caged her in with his arms. She was gratified to see that, when she looked down, his cock was already half prepped for her. “I thought you were paralyzed?” He lowered his head to kiss her cheek, softly bristling his beard down her jaw, ending at her neck.

“I am,” she said weakly, reaching until she got a hold on him, stroking him long and slow as his forehead fell to her chest and he rumbled some curse words she couldn’t quite make out.

“Is this where you want me?” He bit out, his hips surging forward as she squeezed him.

“Up here,” she said.

Jon lifted his head to look at her as if he didn’t quite believe her, so she dug her fingers into her perfect arse and gave him a boost forward. She shifted to sit up a little further, propping her pillow up to support her upper back. “Are you sure?” He asked, a little bit shyly and breathless as she gripped his cock once more, peering up at him. His arm rose, hand gripping the bed post.

“What do you think?”

#I hope you liked it!!!!!! Don't murder me for leaving out the actual smut!!! 🤣🤣🤣#jonerys #jonerys drabble #THANK YOU YOU PRECIOUS HUMAN!!!!

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twsted-and-tangled · 3 years

Text

— tears of salt, drops of red

[♛] Pairing: Yandere Vil Schoenheit x Reader

[♛] Summary: When walking late one winter night, you have a close encounter with death. Unfortunately, it’s not your only one.

Warnings: contains slight mentions of blood, gore and character death. Read at your own risk. This is my first time posting so comments are appreciated. Also, can anybody tell me how to add a read more page divider on mobile?

“What did you think you were doing?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Vil look anything but perfect and it shocks you more than you’d care to admit. His neat clothes are torn in various places, blood and muddy water staining the expensive fabric, destroying it beyond repair. A frigid gust of wind blows snowflakes into your faces and you shiver, not only from the biting cold but from icy menace that radiates from Vil. You carefully step past the limp furry bodies and bright crimson splotches that litter the snow and stop a few feet in front of the vampire. For a moment you both stare at each other.

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, barely a whisper above the howling breeze.

Vil snaps.

“Sorry? Sorry? Did you really think a worthless apology would fix anything?”

He stalks forwards and wraps a hand around your wrist, yanking you into his chest. You yelp as his nails dig into your skin but don’t try to resist. You know your mistake and how lucky you are to be alive. Few people are able to survive a wolf attack in the middle of winter. You’ve seen what remains of those poor souls— nothing more than a few scraps of cloth and bone fragments, surrounded by pools of red. It wasn’t a pretty sight. And tonight, you’d nearly met the same unfortunate fate.

“If I had been even a second later, the wolves would’ve ripped your leg off!” Vil practically snarls, sharp teeth bared and glinting in the moonlight. His arms lock you in their embrace, meshing your bodies together so tightly that your chest begins to hurt. Fingers tangle into your hair and tug hard enough that tears well up in your eyes.

You refuse to let them fall.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Your voice cracks slightly, the terror and adrenaline fueling your sudden anger. “You think I wanted to be mauled and eaten alive by wild animals?”

“If you were thinking at all, you wouldn’t have gone into the forest this late at night! Were you planning on freezing to death as well in these?” He pinches at the thin material of your outfit and displays it in the air mockingly. You jerk your shirt downwards, no longer feeling the chill. Hot fury and embarrassment warms your cheeks, your heart pounding a furious beat against your ribs.

“Maybe I was! Maybe dying in the dark would be more tolerable than living with you!”

The howling wind stills and your words echo loudly in the sudden silence. Shit. Your mouth snaps shut and you fall quiet. You hadn’t meant to be so harsh but it was too late to take back what you said.

Vil freezes, his body stiffening up.

“Would you care to repeat that?” He sounds deceptively calm but his tightening grip proves otherwise. “You claim to prefer death to being with me?”

Oh god, he’s going to kill me.

You gasp for air as he slowly squeezes you, bones aching under his iron hold. You can barely breathe, let alone speak but Vil doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes stare blankly into the starless sky and suddenly, he tips his head back— and laughs. It’s a hollow, dark sound, void of any real humor or mirth. You shiver again, this time struggling harder to get free, but to no avail.

“Fine. If death is what you choose then who am I to deny you?”

His fingers tug at your hair once more, and keep pulling until the tender skin of your neck is exposed. You realize his intentions too late. In an instant, he sinks his fangs into your flesh and begins to drain your blood at a horrifically fast pace. The pain nearly brings you to your knees.

“Don’t... stop stop stop! Vil please, don’t do this. I didn’t mean it, please please stop!” You beg, clawing at his hands and pushing at his face. Vil bats away your feeble attempts and only bites down harder. Numbness replaces the searing agony and soon, you’re swaying around, barely conscious. Vil’s firm hold on your waist was the only thing keeping you from crashing to the ground. You almost wish he would let go.

Sometime later—maybe hours, maybe minutes, maybe even seconds— Vil unlatches his jaws from your throat. Your sight is blurry and dotted with black but you can still see the red liquid smeared across his mouth. It drips onto the white snow, joining the other bloodstains seeping into the earth.

You distantly wonder if it was better to be eaten by wolves. At least then people would know what became of you. Those who were torn apart by starving beasts didn’t seem so unfortunate anymore in comparison.

As your eyes drift shut, something wet presses against your lips and you gag. The taste of metal and rotting flowers imprints itself onto your tongue as Vil kisses you roughly, allowing his blood to enter your body and transform you into one of his kind. If you didn’t want to be with him in life, than you would spend an eternal death by his side.

“Now nothing will ever separate us.” Vil murmurs, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear, a complete contrast to his earlier actions. “We will never be parted, my dear. Whether it be life or death, we’ll be together always.”

He brushes one last kiss against your cheek before draping your weak frame over his arms and lifting you up. Salty droplets prick at your eyes as your body is carried off into the shadowy trees. You try to stay conscious as long as you can, knowing that when you wake up again, you will no longer be human. No longer be alive or dead. No longer be anything except an immortal monster forever doomed to wander the night.

This time you let the tears fall.

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil schoenheit #vampire vil #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland x reader

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 3 years

Text

My Universe

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Request (from @kreampop1257): Hi! Could I request a fic where Bakugou and his fem!s/o go camping? it's ok if not!!

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None o.O? Ig y’all get a lil kissy kissy but it’s nothing crazy. Also you eat food

Author’s Note:

Sorry again for the long wait! Have some incredibly soft Bakugou (like literally almost ooc söft). Also this one ended up being gender-neutral (no pronouns) so yeah :D

Enjoy!

-Sugar

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“Where’d you say this thing was?” Your question was directed at the back of Bakugou’s head, his spiky blond hair seemingly flatter from how much he’d been sweating the past few hours.

“It’s not much farther,” he grunted.

You knew how annoying he found complaining to be, so you’d kept quiet on that front for most of your little adventure. But your bags only seemed to be getting heavier, and the sun already hung low in the sky.

Your boyfriend had suggested that he take you camping with him as a sort of romantic getaway. Granted, that wasn’t how he’d put it, but you were inclined to think so. It wasn’t every day you got to spend so much time alone with him. But now you were hot, tired, a little sweaty, and Bakugou had hardly said a word to you on your entire hike up the mountain. Figures.

Following him for a few more minutes, he led you to a small clearing between a circle of trees and unceremoniously dropped his bag. “Here,” he announced, already crouching down to pull out the tent.

You set your own backpack on the ground, taking a look around you. The trees stretched up and up above your head, a thin canopy of leaves just allowing you to see small patches of the darkening blue sky. “This is nice,” you said, twirling to see how large the site was. There was just enough space for your tent and a small fire.

“Don’t just stand there gawking,” Bakugou said. “Help me.”

You walked over to where he’d laid out the canvas of the tent, holding it up so he could put the rods in the support system and keeping it steady as he hammered in the stakes. By the time you were finished, the sky was already streaked with pink and orange hues.

“Clear that spot for the fire,” Bakugou instructed, pointing to a patch of dirt a few feet away from your tent. “I’ll go get some wood.”

And a few minutes later, you had a fire going. You leaned against your boyfriend as you both finally sat and rested on the ground, devouring sandwiches you’d packed earlier.

“Are you having fun?” Katsuki asked you, his eyes averted to his feet as he took another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, actually,” you answered, watching the fire dance in front of you. “I like being out here, and the hike up wasn’t too bad.” You laced your free hand with his, turning to face him. “And I like spending time with you. Even if you can be a little bossy.”

“I’m not bossy!” Bakugou said, finally looking at you with an indignant pout.

You giggled, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “Are too.”

“I just—want things to be perfect for you,” he grumbled, looking away again. “It’s what you deserve.”

You let go of his hand to cup his face in your palm, turning his chin so your noses could brush together. “That’s sweet of you.” You kissed him gently, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he almost seemed to melt into your lips. You went back to your sandwiches a moment later after you’d pulled away, finishing them in silence.

“S’more time!” you announced, pulling the packet of marshmallows out of your bag. You passed it to Bakugou along with a skewer and began roasting them.

The blond hovered his over a glowing ember while you immediately shoved yours into the fire, watching the puffy treat burst into flame.

“You actual fiend,” Bakugou accused disapprovingly with a quirked brow as you raised the blackened flaming marshmallow high enough to blow out.

“The pot and the kettle,” you muttered, flicking off a piece of the scorched skin. “This is the quick way to do it. Besides, now it’s all nice and melty.”

“And burnt,” he quipped, turning his own so you could see the golden brown tone his had taken on.

You shrugged, pulling out a graham cracker and a square of chocolate. “Works for me.”

You tried your best to be neat while you took a bite out of your s’more, but the marshmallow had other plans. It refused to separate from itself, pulling apart in a single gooey string and sticking to your face.

Bakugou watched you out of the corner of his eye with a smirk as he finally pulled his perfectly toasted marshmallow out of the heat of the fire. He took a bite from it plain off the skewer, still amused with watching as you got specks of chocolate and marshmallow around your mouth.

“I’m struggling,” you admitted to him, still trying to figure out the best way to smush down your dessert so it would stay together.

He chuckled at your predicament, waiting until you finished. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“I’m aware.” You pulled a wet wipe out of your bag, grateful that you’d thought to bring one. Once you were finished wiping off your sticky fingers, you moved to swipe it over your face. But Katsuki stopped you before you could, taking your wrist in his hand and sliding closer to you.

Wordlessly, his lips met your face again, pecking away the sweet fragments of your s’more from your skin. You could feel his tongue swiping out, kitten licking at a crumb of chocolate in the corner of your mouth.

“Sweet,” he mumbled lowly in that gruff voice of his, almost making you shiver and causing your cheeks to heat even more than they already were. Finally he moved in even closer, kissing you fully on the lips once more for a long moment. You relaxed into him, fingers settling under his jawline to pull him in. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as he pushed against you, exhales from his nose mingling with yours. Katsuki finally pulled away, his lips grazing over your cheekbone as he moved to whisper in your ear. “I want to show you something.”

You nodded and he stood, offering you his hand. You took it and straightened, allowing him to lead you off into the woods.

After a few minutes of walking, you noticed the trees begin to thin out. Soon, you were standing in some sort of meadow, wild grass growing up past your ankles.

“Look up there,” Katsuki whispered.

Your eyes flicked to the dark blue canvas of sky and widened as they took in the sight above you. Thousands of stars glittered in the distance, twinkling and bright in the clear atmosphere.

“I’ve never seen so many,” you whispered in awe, entranced by the bejeweled heavens.

“There’s no light pollution up here in the mountains,” Katsuki said, letting go of your hand so he could flop down on the ground. You followed, laying at his side and looking above the treeline, the grass tickling your cheek.

You laid there together in silence for some time; fingers newly entwined, eyes tracing clusters of stars, searching for familiar constellations. You stared up for so long, your eyes began to burn. You let them drift shut, allowing your other senses to take over.

You could hear the steady breaths of Katsuki beside you, accompanying the symphony of insects orchestrating music of their own design. The grass fluttered against every inch of your exposed skin, stirring ever so slightly on every draft of cool night air. You were quick to get lost in the earthly scents surrounding you, each one deeply penetrating your lungs and seeming to spin in your mind.

“Getting tired?”

Bakugou’s rough voice shook you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes again, focusing on the heavenly view above. “This is so cool,” you mumbled, ignoring your boyfriend’s previous question. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

He tched. “Of course, dummy.” Bakugou squeezed your hand a final time before sitting up, stretching. “Come on, let’s head back before you fall asleep. It’s been a long day.”

Once you were at your campsite again, you pulled out the bedding and your pajamas. Bakugou doused the smoldering remains of your fire before helping you spread out the sleeping bags and blankets inside the tent, your actions lit only by a single lantern.

Settling in, Bakugou shut off the light, plunging everything around you into a thick darkness. You heard him turn over, and you realized with a hint of frustration that he was facing away from you. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t always interested in cuddling, and you respected that. He wanted his space from time to time, that was all. But did it have to be now? Tonight?

You internally grumbled to yourself, regretting not shoving your sleeping bag even closer to his. Your mind began to wander, but you quickly took notice that you weren’t as sleepy as you should be. Pouting to yourself at your horrendous luck, you turned over, frowning at the feeling of hard earth under your shoulder and hip. You’d literally spent the past several hours physically exerting yourself. The least your body could do for you was allow itself to get the sleep and rest it ached for. But your head was too noisy, the ground too hard, and it was slowly sinking in how cold the woods got at night.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Cringing at the loud shuffling sounds of your sleeping bag, you shimmied your way over to your boyfriend. To your dismay, you could tell by his breaths that he was already some level of asleep. Stealthily, you tried pressing your chest into his back. Already, warmth began to seep into your skin, and you finally sighed in contentment, draping your arm over his side.

And then his breathing changed. Man, he was too easy to wake up.

You heard him chuckle, low and breathy from his still-sleepy state. “You really can’t last long without me, huh?” he said, face invisible to you, still turned away in the dark. “What was that?” he went on. “Five seconds and you already want me again?”

You scowled at the vague outline of his hair, catching onto what he was getting at. “That was so not five seconds!” you protested. “You fell asleep! And besides, it’s cold out here.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you knew he’d be able to hear the pout in your voice.

Still chuckling to himself, he rolled over to face you. “Come ‘ere, Teddy Bear, you know I’m just messin’ with you.”

Your pout remained present on your face, but even so, you found yourself snuggling into his warm chest. It was infinitely softer than where you’d previously been laying, and the way his arms snaked around your body heated you like nothing else.

“How’s this, babe?” His hand smoothed over your back, pulling at your blankets so you could effectively be cocooned against him.

“Perfect,” you whispered, finally relaxing your face and letting your smile creep across your lips. Settling in, you gripped the soft fabric of his shirt between your fingers.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Was this a nice trip?” he asked, abandoning his initial teasing tone for a more vulnerable one.

“Yes,” you answered, and of course it was the truth. “Thanks for showing me the stars.”

“Knew you’d like them,” he snorted, playing with a strand of your hair.

“The world’s so big,” you quietly mused to yourself, lids finally growing heavy. “The sun. The earth. The moon. And all the stars. But you’re my everything, Katsuki.”

His breath suddenly caught in his throat, causing him to freeze for a moment before he looked down again at your dark form snuggled into his chest.

“My universe,” you mumbled, finally drifting off in his arms.

How could you know that he felt the same? How could he express what you did to him every time you laughed? How he wanted to be there for it all? How he wanted to hold you when you were sad and lift you up when you were happy? How could he say that you meant more to him than you’d ever know, that he’d move mountains just for you if he thought for a second that it would make you smile? How could you know that you were his universe too?

“Of course I am,” he muttered to your sleeping self, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. “Always will be.” And with that, his consciousness joined you among darkness and stars.

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Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicaegyo @hyunmin-1404 @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @sxngwoos-ash-box @xoxopam4

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled!#sugar fics

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Note

Hiiiiiii can I request Bakugou x fem!reader?? (*≧∀≦*) Maybe he has a crush on you who has a healing quirk and helps recovery girl when it comes to helping the injured, like when class 1-A finishes up training and recovery girl normally sends her to deal with it all the time? She can heal people but it drains her energy so when she finished with it she takes naps on the recovery beds? Idk but thanks!much love❤️❤️❤️

This is a really cute idea! Thank you for requesting 💖

“Shut up and Heal me”

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: Language (what do you expect, it’s Bakugou lol)

Synopsis: You’re a student at U.A. and Recovery Girl’s apprentice healer. When you push pass your limit to heal Bakugou Katsuki, who knew he cared enough to make sure you heal too.

“Wake up, dumbass.”

Your shoulder is shaken, abruptly waking you from your nap. A muscular silhouette takes shape as you pry your eyes open.

“Bakugou? Is that you?” Your voice laced with sleep.

“Nah, it’s Batman.”

You squint your eyes, still half asleep. Is this a dream? Bakugou rolls his eyes at your inability to detect blatant sarcasm.

“‘Course it’s me, dipshit. Get up.”

You check your phone and groan when you find you only got five minutes worth of valuable shut eye.

“You’re here early.”

“Aizawa-sensei let us out early!” Midoriya pipes up. He’s chipper for someone who looks one step away from passing out. Any trace of sleep vanishes when you assess his injuries, asking him a series of questions to confirm where he needs medical attention and if it’s life-threatening. You usher him to Recovery Girl’s office so he can get treated immediately. Typical Midoriya - always going plus ultra even for training exercises.

Bakugou’s no better as you take in the numerous scrapes and bruises raking his body. Despite his beaten-up state, the only open wound is on the right side of his stomach - a small pool of blood seeping through his muscle shirt. He’s been pushing himself much harder in training these past couple weeks and you know it’s the life of a hero, but you’re concerned for him as a healer and as a friend.

“You gonna stare all day or heal me?”

“Sorry, right, uh.. Take off your shirt and get on the bed.”

The words escape before you realize the implication. Bakugou raises an eyebrow before snorting.

“Tch. Weirdo.”

You flush as he takes off his shirt, laying down on the bed. The wound running down his abdomen is not deep, but it is long. It’ll be difficult to heal, but you’re always up for a challenge. You wash your hands before activating your quirk. A glowing aura surrounds your hands, transparent in color, but before you can focus on changing the color to heal Bakugou - a spaced out Kaminari stands before you with his signature thumbs up. Snot is running down his nose and his eyes have this blank look like no one’s home.

“hewwoo?”

“Oi! Dunceface! To your right!”

“wa-whee-whaa?”

That’s Kaminari gibberish for “Where?” Being Recovery Girl’s intern and constantly healing Class 1-A along with other students in the hero course has made you quite familiar with the unusual side effects of overusing one’s quirk. You created a book with translations for Kaminari’s most used gibberish phrases so you can treat him more efficiently. Today, you tried placing his juice box and cookies on the table to the right to see if he can find it himself. But he’s having problems finding what direction is right.

“Your other right, dumbass.” Bakugou growls as Kaminari bends down to look for his juice box under a chair. You giggle as you help him locate his snack before ushering him to one of the recovery beds to take a nap. He knocks out in no time, snoring softly. Bakugou grunts, his hand pressing against the wound on his side.

“Don’t touch, it could get infected.”

“Tch. I know, but look.” He releases his hold to show you the blood dripping down his abdomen. You curse for not healing him sooner when he was clearly a higher priority than Kaminari. How could you forget the number one rule as a healer? There’s no time to beat yourself up for it so you grab a cleaning cloth to wipe away the blood before activating your quirk once again. You close your eyes, focusing your energy into what you’re about to do which is close up a wound. Red swirls behind your eyelids and you focus the color down your body to your hands. You open your eyes to find them glowing a bright, luminescent red - a stark contrast to the dim lighting in the room. Bakugou hisses at the touch; your hands trailing along his abdomen. You look up to apologize when you notice Bakugou’s flushed cheeks, as red as your glowing hands.

“Are you okay? You’re a bit flushed.” You deactivate your quirk in your left hand to touch his forehead. It’s cause for concern if he has a fever due to an open wound, but you’re taken aback when Bakugou swats your hand away.

“I’m fine! Shut up and heal me.” He looks away, but you catch the persistent redness now making its way down his neck. You return to healing the wound. It’s almost closed, but you can feel your energy draining quicker than usual since you didn’t have enough time to recover earlier.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mhm. Al-most… done…” You bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to concentrate the last of your energy into closing the rest of the wound.

“Don’t push it, dumbass.” Bakugou grunts and despite the harsh tone, there’s a tinge of concern underneath.

“Heh.. could say… the same… for..”

You trail off and your hands glow brighter by the second that you can see red behind your eyelids. You feel the wound seal shut and when you open your eyes you see there’s not a scar in sight. This is the first time you were able to completely heal a wound on your own. You smile at your accomplishment.

“You can take your hands off.”

You flush before ripping your hands away. The quick movement gives you a head rush, the room spinning in circles.

“Whoa.” Bakugou grabs you by the shoulders and reverses your position so you’re laying down now.

“My head hurts…”

“No shit,” Bakugou snorts, “What’d I say about pushing?”

“Go beyond... plus… ultra…”

The last thing you hear is Bakugou laughing, a soft smile curling his lips, before your vision goes black.

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

You wake up to the smell of roasted coffee and cinnabons. Faint voices go back and forth, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. The light streaming in is gone; the room now darker than before. Jeez how long were you out?

“Took you long enough.”

You whip your head to see Bakugou sitting on a chair and nursing a cup of coffee. The bed next to yours is empty. Kaminari must’ve recovered meaning you’ve slept for more than an hour.

“You stayed.”

“Yeah, and? Wanted to make sure you didn’t die ‘cause of me.”

City lights shine bright, and the hustle and bustle outside suggests the city isn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Live music roars from nightclubs and people laughing on the street would entice anyone to join the party. It’s pretty hard to believe Bakugou would stay behind on a Friday night when it’s common knowledge that you need to sleep after overusing your quirk. But here he is, that same strip of red running along his cheeks and nose like he just got a cute little sunburn.

“You like laser tag?” Bakugou asks.

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, shrugging when you answer.

“Never played.”

Bakugou balks, shock written all over his face.

“You never - what kind of person - nevermind. If we hurry, we can make the last round.”

Maybe this time you really were dreaming. You subtly pinch yourself to make sure and nope, this is real life and Bakugou is inviting you to hang out.

“Sounds... fun? But I… um…I’m not really part of your squad…”

You didn’t want to overstep. It seemed like they were a pretty tight-knit group and you’ve never hung out with them outside of school. The fear of ruining their night because you didn’t vibe with them twisted your gut.

“Gimme your phone,” Bakugou says.

Still in a daze, you give him your phone without question. He takes his phone out and not a second later you hear a “ping” from yours, He presses a couple buttons before handing it back to you.

“Congrats, you’re part of the squad.”

You see that you’ve been added to a group chat called “keeping up with the crackheads”. You don’t have time to contemplate exactly what you got thrusted into as Bakugou is grabbing both of your jackets hanging on the coat rack, handing yours and pushing you towards the door.

“I- um.. Thanks… I guess...? Bakugou, what’s going on?”

You’re already halfway down the hallway, everything happening too fast without a clear explanation. Bakugou groans, clearly frustrated that you’re not a mind reader and he has to actually communicate what he’s thinking. He grabs your shoulders, gently shoving your back against the lockers, and planting his hands on either side of you. Being this close to Bakugou makes you feel a familiar flurry of butterflies as you’re caged in and forced to look into those crimson eyes.

“I. Like. You.” He smirks, getting a kick at your flustered state, before leaning away with his hands in his pockets, “And I know you like me too.”

You don’t know what to freak out over first. The fact that Bakugou knows about your crush or that he likes you back. Also, how does he know you like him? You haven’t told anyone about your crush, preferring to keep your cards close to your chest.

“Don’t talk in your sleep if you don’t want me to know how much you wanna run your hands down my ‘chiseled abs’.”

You squeak and cover your face with your hands, too embarrassed at what else you might’ve said in your sleep.

“Chill, dumbass, it’s cute.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, leading you to a night full of riveting laser tag, making new friends, and first kisses. 💖

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki fluff #bnha fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bnha #mha #fanfic-me-up #shut up and heal me

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tristintea · 3 years

Text

Endersleep

AU that’s basically a bunch of headcanons about endermen ft. Edward the Enderman and Lethe (Ranboo) :D

Endermen do not give birth, like piglins, humans, and other mammals do. Endermen do not lay eggs, like sirens, avians, reptiles, birds, dragons, and fish do. In fact, their method of reproduction is more akin to that of spores. Everywhere an enderman goes, particles are left behind, little bits of ender that fade but never quite dissolve. Those little particles are replaceable, insignificant, until they find enough of themselves that they can remember what it feels like to be ender.

It is nigh impossible to find infant or adolescent enderman anywhere, even in the End, where they are the only creatures other than the nearly extinct enderdragons (see: The Enderdragon, A Summary) and face no natural predators. At first, it was assumed that endermen were at risk of extinction, but studies showed no significant changes in population. One dedicated researcher by the name of Rhianna James, however, spent her life with these cryptic creatures, eventually learning the answer to this perplexing question.

As James discovered, most endermen spawn fully grown. It is only very rarely that there are enough particles to spawn an enderman but not enough to make an adult mind. That is why, when an enderman finds an enderling, it will adopt it into its haunting, and all members of the haunting take on the role of a caretaker. You will never find a more protected child than that of an enderman.

Edward’s haunting is gone. Edward has been wandering for many years now, and as the grief that accompanied the loss turned to nostalgia, they’ve regained their old vigor for life. Now they see sights worth seeing, places worth being, people worth meeting; now they search for others to spend their nights with.

It has been far too long since they’ve sung the Old Songs properly.

Travel is dangerous, Edward has come to know very well. Others, non-endermen, often meet Edward with a sword in hand, either in defense or in greed. Edward themself has learned that connecting gazes is not a threat to non-endermen, but they have yet to be able to control their instinct to retaliate in anger.

The weather is also dangerous. Being caught in the rain is painful, and the only escape is to teleport to one of the other dimensions. Snow is beautiful, but when it melts it hurts just as bad.

It has just stopped raining when Edward hears a call that is painfully familiar but distinctly off. It’s the cry of a wounded enderman, but the sounds are higher-pitched and slurred. They don’t register that, though; they are far too preoccupied with searching for its origin, ears flared outward as they listen intently for the next call.

They find a small, precious thing, under the dripping leaves of the forest. They have to ignore the sharp sound of the sizzling of their own skin with every drop that hits them, and it is worth it, because of all the endermen to be blessed with an enderling, Edward never thought that they would be one of them.

Their enderling is a little strange. They are split down the middle, one half of them the proper coloring, with the bright green eyes that they have been told all enderlings have for many years, while the other half is white and its eye red. But Edward does not care. They are theirs, and they will protect them with their life.

As we know, endermen, when stressed, become aggravated; however, what James discovered is that they go into a catatonic state once the perceived threat is gone. This state is called endersleep, a term coined by James herself, and it can last from anywhere between a few minutes to decades. In fact, an enderman might never wake up from endersleep, and yet it can still live out its entire expected lifespan. Its haunting will feed it, nourish it, and carry it with them either until its death or its awakening.

James wrote that she had only twice seen an enderman in endersleep. “It was sudden[....] One moment [the enderman] was screaming, and the next, [it] had collapsed. I thought [it] had passed out,” she wrote in one of her earlier entries. In a later entry, she said, “The haunting showed me their fourth member, that they had been carrying with them for some time now. I had wondered about this, with no hypothesis in my thoughts and only bafflement[....] [To] my surprise, I found that [it] was not actually dead, but breathing very slowly as though in a deep slumber.” Then, much later, “[The enderman] woke from endersleep today. I had assumed that [it] would never wake up again[...] now I realize that this is a common occurrence.”

While their enderling rests, Edward carries them away from the forest and the remnants of rain. They are badly injured, splotches of burning skin still sizzling even now, and the humming of their pearl is weak and broken. Edward hurries, a line of particles left to fade in their wake. They cannot let their enderling die yet.

They trill comforts to their enderling, who has grown too weak to do anything but chirp when the pain grows too much. Even with a dying star pressed to their chest, Edward cannot feel upset. The fact that they held one at all will be enough for them, if Lady Death takes them into her own arms.

They move past trees and stones and hills, ignoring the hiss of a creeper and the whistle of an arrow, because such things do not touch them. They keep moving even as the sky begins to lighten and the hills grow taller and the air grows clearer. Their pearl aches, but Edward does not falter. Their enderling has stopped chirping, has stopped moving entirely; so they must move for them, must sing part of a song they don’t know if they’ll ever truly hear again.

They are cold.

Endersleep could be compared to hibernation, if it weren’t for the fact that for endermen, cold is nothing to be worried about. When an enderman is too warm, it grows drowsy and confused, but when an enderman is cold, its pearl is free, and the colder it gets the more energy it has, until of course it is too cold to move. This is one reason why endermen are nocturnal: to avoid the heat of the sun.

Edward does not slow when they see high stone walls towering over them. They teleport to the other side of them, into the quiet of a city, and they do not quiet their song to match.

They are looking for one of the non-endermen, someone who has a potion of healing.

Of course, another reason why endermen are nocturnal is the End, their original habitat. The End is a dimension filled with clusters of endstone islands, floating in the ever-black void. There is not much natural light there.

The city is filled with lights, flames flickering in iron cages hung over every door and at every street corner. It starts to meld together in Edward’s eyes, blurs of orange and yellow smudged with shades of grey and blue.

There. They come to a halt, shaking the fuzziness out of their vision, and only take one look at the potion bottles in the overworld building before they enter in a silent explosion of purple.

They can still hear the humming of their enderling’s pearl, soft and weak next to their own loud humming, and it makes them slowly walk around the shop. They regret that they do not know how to read Overscript very well. It takes precious time to make out the characters, and longer to stitch them together to form something understandable.

Harm. Stre. Fir. They don’t look past the first few letters, knowing enough to remember that Healing starts with none of them. Rej. Po.

Heal.

Edward knocks the bottle from the shelf with one sweep of their tail, and it shatters on the floor with a sound that seems to cut into their skull. They do not flinch. They find a scrap of cloth, and they drape it over the puddle of potion and glass, so that the liquid seeps in and the glass stays behind.

They leave, rubbing the dripping cloth on their enderling’s shoulders, and behind them a livid alchemist bursts into the room with curses on his tongue and a gleaming sword in his hand.

It’s hard to say whether James’ research is reliable, though. She dealt with delusions for many years before the end of her life, and there are journals filled cover to cover in nothing but nonsensical scribbling and occasional letters, evidence of one of her more questionable projects. She thought that endermen had their own language, going so far as to claim that they had books and even enchantments, and for the rest of her life she tried to convince everyone she met that endermen were players, not mobs.

#it's not mentioned but ranboo's name is Lethe in this AU #enderman #ranboo #c!ranboo #edward the enderman #headcanon #short fic #my writing #dsmp #dsmp writing #dsmp fanfic #ranboo fanfic

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Til Death Do Us Part

There are a few things that are important to Pietro Maximoff. His sister, his home, his past. Now, there’s someone even closer to him- a mysterious S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, a woman with the ability to heal any wounds.

masterlist

Pietro sits by himself on the Quinjet, watching the ruckus about him. His foot taps impatiently while he waits for the plane to arrive back on the safety of land once more. Across the room, Wanda is conversing with Hawkeye in hushed tones. Steve Rogers and Tony Stark are bickering over something for the third time since the plane took off, Natasha Romanoff is emotionlessly prepping her weapons, and Thor is inspecting his hammer for damage.

There are multitudes of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents popping in and out of the room, sometimes checking readouts on the central cockpit and other times asking quick questions of the Avengers. There’s one woman who catches Pietro’s eye, who is currently flitting about Bruce Banner.

As Pietro watches, she hovers her hands slowly over his injuries. After Banner lost control over the Hulk and was subsequently brought back by Tony Stark, he was covered with scrapes and bruises from the fight. The woman who Pietro had noticed earlier is holding her hands a few inches away from Banner’s skin, and faint white light is spreading from her outstretched fingers to the cuts.

Interestingly enough, the second the pearlescent light touches Banner, his wounds close up and fade away, leaving behind perfectly undamaged skin. Fascinating. The woman must have noticed Pietro’s gaze, as she heads over to him once Banner is deemed healthy once more.

She extends her hand to him. “I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.” Pietro takes it, allowing a small smile to grace his lips. “Pietro Maximoff. That’s a nice trick you did with Banner’s injuries.” Y/N laughs lightly. “You’re not the only one with inhuman abilities. Healing people is my specialty.” Y/N gives him a once-over, checking for wounds that need her attention. She finds a series of gashes across his arms, and they continue their conversation as she begins to heal them.

“Unlike you, I was born with my powers. They didn’t show up until I was around twelve or so, and they were slow to appear. I was able to keep them hidden until I healed someone in public, not knowing any better. Next thing I know, Tony Stark’s knocking on my door and asking if I want to help out with the Avengers.”

Pietro makes a small scoffing noise in the back of his throat at the mention of Stark. Even though he’s now fighting on the Avengers’ side against Ultron, he still feels resentment towards the billionaire after his weapons were used against the Maximoff family. Y/N evidently notices this, as she fixes him with an understanding gaze.

“I know how you feel about Tony, but he’s not all that bad. He was one of the first people to help me control my abilities for the better, instead of having to hide them. This job with the Avengers is one of the best things that’s happened to me. He regrets everything that happened with his weapons, and he’s almost killing himself trying to make up for all of the blood that was shed. It won’t make up for what happened, but I hope you know he’s doing everything he can to make up for the wrongs he’s done in the past.”

Pietro nods slowly. “I know. It’s just hard to look at him without thinking of what happened.” He changes the topic. “What exactly is your role with the Avengers? I didn’t see you out in the city with them at first, and I don’t think you’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Y/N studies the now healed gashes on his arm, then sits down next to him, taking advantage of a rare moment to rest.

“I’m kind of in between the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. I don’t fight with them because my powers can’t really help in battle, but in the tough fights I come out onto the battleground to heal the worst of the injuries on the go. It just depends on what they need.” Pietro clicks his tongue, thinking. “Does it drain you, healing all of these injuries all of the time?”

Y/N nods exhaustedly. “You have no idea. It’s easier than you’d think because so many of them have pretty strong healing processes by themselves, but the more severe the injury, the harder it is on me. One time, after the Chitauri came to New York, I healed Tony after he almost died. I was unconscious for two or three days.”

Pietro whistles softly. “Wow. Do you think there’s a limit to how much you can do?” Y/N inclines her head. “I ran some tests with Tony a few years back to see what I could do so they could clear me for the field. I can heal almost any injury, and I can even bring someone back from the dead, but only once.”

Pietro looks at Y/N, confused. “What do you mean, only once?” Y/N sighs, looking up to the ceiling. “I can make someone come back to life after they die, but it will kill me instead. A life for a life, I guess. As long as I’ve known that, I’ve lived in a state of constant stress. With all the time I’ve been with the Avengers, I’ve seen so many people who died. How can I decide to give up my life to save someone else's if I can only do it once? How will I know it’s the right person?”

Pietro takes Y/N’s hand, holding it close to him. “In the end, I think that will have to be up to you. Just know this- I think I can speak for everyone here that we’d rather have you saving people now then give up your life for just one person.” Y/N smiles at him gratefully. “Thank you. I just can’t shake the feeling that at some point, I’ll have to do it. I just hope I have enough time to really live my life before I give it up.”

Y/N and Pietro talk the rest of the journey, and quickly grow close. When it’s time to head back to Sokovia, Pietro doesn’t want to say goodbye. He’s happy to hear that she will be coming with him to the city, as the Avengers want her around when things undoubtedly go south. However, Pietro knows Ultron will be bringing his forces, and he’s afraid that she will get hurt.

Pietro tries to keep her close when they enter the city. Y/N immediately runs over to the refugees as they’re brought onto the ships, healing almost everyone she encounters. When the Avengers need her help, Pietro helps bring her to them. She looks exhausted, but she keeps going no matter what. Pietro can’t help but admire that.

Before he knows it, the fight is practically over. Almost all of the Sokovian refugees are on the ships, and they’re about to take off when Hawkeye spots a lone boy separated from the others, unable to get back to his family because of attacking robots. Clint sprints over to the boy, and the two of them are about to get back when Pietro hears the drone of engines overhead.

It’s like everything moves in slow motion. There are Clint and the young boy, almost to the rest of the refugees and safety. There is Ultron in his ship, firing away. The bullets rain down around them, inches away from the two figures. Pietro starts moving. One last sacrifice.

He almost doesn’t feel the pain. He almost can’t feel anything. His vision is starting to fade, everything disappearing into a haze. He can see Clint looking up at him in horror, and Pietro has time to utter one last sentence before he collapses to the ground.

“You didn’t see that coming?”

Distantly, Pietro can hear someone screaming. There’s this loud noise, coming again and again. He realizes it’s his heartbeat. It sounds again and again, but it keeps slowing down. It beats once, twice more, and then it stops, and Pietro Maximoff is dead.

There’s darkness.

Then, a sound.

It’s barely there, something just a decibel or two above complete silence. But it’s something. Dully, Pietro thinks that he shouldn’t be able to hear anything. Didn’t he die? Maybe he’s gone on to something else, some place after life. The afterlife.

The sound grows louder. It sounds almost like the whir of machinery. Then there’s something else- hushed voices, gaining volume until it sounds like the voices are all around him. Pietro gains a new sensation- feeling. He’s lying down, eyes shut against the world. What is happening to him?

All of a sudden, his eyes fly open. It takes him a moment to take in his surroundings, for understanding to seep into his first few thoughts. He’s in a white room, lying in a bed. A hospital bed. There are faces around him- no, people. He can recognize them now- Clint, looking relieved. Banner and Dr. Cho discussing a readout in the background. There are other people moving in the hallway outside, and starting to enter the room. Steve, Nat, Tony.

There’s a woman next to him, beaming tearfully. For a second, he thinks it’s his mother. He stares at her in disbelief, but then his vision sharpens. No, it’s Wanda, and she’s embracing him now, still sobbing. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” Pietro feels a smile slide onto his face. There should be someone else here, right? There’s someone missing.

Y/N.

Where’s Y/N?

All of a sudden, Pietro is filled with panic. He looks around the room, but she is nowhere in sight. He turns to Wanda frantically. “Where is Y/N?” She doesn’t answer him, but a saddened, almost guilty look crosses her face. A realization is coming to him, one Pietro is terrified to face.

She could bring someone back from the dead, but only once.

Clint is standing next to him. “Y/N saved your life out there.” Pietro can only repeat himself. “Where is she?” Clint sighs and looks away. “She died. We brought her body back with us.” And just like that, Pietro shuts down. The heart monitor next to him starts beeping frantically, and doctors start to pour into the room. Pietro’s eyes jump from person to person. “I need to see her. She can’t be dead. She can’t be-”

He’s cut off by a pinching sensation in his arm, and then his vision starts to slide into blackness.

Pietro wakes up an hour or so later. Tranquilizers never worked well on him- they always made their way through his system far faster than they were supposed to. Wanda is still sitting next to him, her face weary and worn. Pietro’s voice is cracked and quiet, but she still hears him. “Y/N. Is she really-” He can’t say it. Wanda nods, taking his hand. “I’m sorry, Pietro. I’m so sorry.”

Pietro just sits there dully. “Is there nothing you can do? Please, Wanda. You have to save her.” Wanda inclines her head. “There might be something- a procedure, risky, but our best bet. It’ll take the abilities of both Vision and myself. We start in a few minutes, I just wanted to be here when you woke up.” Pietro looks at his sister pleadingly. “Thank you. Please, bring her back.” Wanda smiles sadly, then stands up, gently placing his blankets back across his lap from where they had fallen down in all the commotion of earlier that day.

Eventually, Pietro finds he can’t wait any longer. He removes the IV from his veins, swinging his legs out from the hospital bed to stand unsteadily on his own. It takes him a while, but he manages to make his way out and into the hallway.

It’s pretty easy to tell which room is Y/N’s because of the amount of doctors circulating around it. Pietro sinks into a chair opposite it. He’s never been good at waiting; always too full of the unbridled need to get up and be active to ever sit still for longer than a few seconds. Yet now, Pietro can’t bring himself to do anything but stay here and wait.

After a while, Wanda comes out. She seems paler than normal, probably after the exertion of using her abilities to save Y/N. Pietro can only look up at her, afraid to say anything. Wanda stops in front of him. “The procedure is done. We don’t know if it will work. Only time can tell.”

Once all of the doctors have finally filtered out of the room, Pietro drags himself to his feet and shuffles unsteadily through the doors. Y/N is lying on another hospital bed, looking deathly still. Pietro stands next to her, wrapping his fingers around her unresponsive hand.

He’s not sure how long he stayed there, but his patience is rewarded when there’s a slight twitch in Y/N’s hand. Then, her eyelids flicker open and Pietro’s tension finally leaves him. She’s alright. That is enough.

It takes her a few seconds to focus, but then she looks at him dazedly. “What happened?” Pietro smiles down at her. “You saved my life, so we saved yours. By the way, I’m going to need you to never try that self-sacrificing thing again. You’ve scared almost everyone in the building.” Y/N squeezes his hand, adopting a mock frown. “Technically, I think you’re the one who sacrificed himself first.”

Pietro laughs, a bright sound in the midst of all the quiet of the hospital. He leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Maybe so. But we’ve got each other back, and that’s all we need.” She smiles up at him, and Pietro feels happier than he has in a long time.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagines #quicksilver #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagines #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #age of ultron #maximoff twins

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inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years

Text

Stuck in Your Head

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~2.7K

Warnings: Descriptive Depressive Episode and Discussions about Prescription Medications (specifically missing doses and having side effects)

A/N: This is my first time writing RPF so I decided to stick with something I know well. I substituted my own best friend’s name in so I didn’t have to deal with the pesky acronyms cluttering the story.

Buried underneath the covers, you were safe even though sleep continued to elude you. The chill of the morning was unable to pierce the walls of your blanket fortress. While the soft pitter-pattering of rain on your window would normally be able to lull you to dreamland, you were left to watch the rise and fall of the fabric.

Early daylight had danced its way across the room a millennia ago. No matter how deep you burrowed into your little nest, the light would seep through. So you tucked your head underneath your pillow and fought the urge to continuously check your phone. Watching time tick past would only make these growing frustrations and anxieties worse.

You remained curled up with your knees close to your chest, willing your hands to stop their shaking. All those exercises you had been taught in therapy seemed fruitless. Nothing could alleviate this numbness that had settled in your bones. Time continued to pass as you laid there, only daring to leave your bed’s warm embrace when your bladder was screaming in agony.

The spot where you laid never had to the time to cool. You were always sucked right back to it in record time like every episode before. Brain fog would cause the same thing every time. The days would seem to just blend into one another, a cycle of light and shadows that would chase each other around the ceiling. You would have no idea if you took your meds, what day it was, or even the last time you ate. Time would be nonexistent in your little blanketed world.

A soft vzzzzt came from outside your safe zone. Moving your hand slightly, you could just barely feel the vibrations of your phone. You paused as you tried to decide if you had enough energy to answer. It was most likely unimportant, another robocall about some silly matter. Sighing heavily, you drew your hand back to its previous position.

Silence fell over the room once more and you breathed a sigh of relief. You forced your eyes shut in hopes that you could finally sleep. Not more than a few moments passed before the quiet was broken yet again. The soft vzzzzt returned, requiring you to begrudgingly open your eyes. You hissed as you slowly rolled over, just enough to reach over and drag your phone under the covers with you.

You flipped your phone over as your best friend’s face filled up the screen. You know you should answer it, but you didn’t want to worry her. Ariel has enough going on without you dragging her into your shit. You quickly shot off one of those automated responses saying you’re busy and you’ll call back later before declining the call.

Carefully shoving your phone back out from under your blanket pile, you tried once more to adjust and get comfy. Finally, it seemed that the sleep you craved is upon you. You yawned before nestling your head deeper into your pillow and letting your eyes fall shut.

You woke up sometime later and noticed that the bedroom is almost completely dark. You dare to glance at your phone and it’s only 6 pm. Stiff limbs quickly made themselves known as you tried to stretch. They crack and pop as you finally moved them, each crying out desperately for motion.

Slowly you sit up and allow yourself to slip out from your burrito. Every movement feels as if you’re wading through an endless pool of molasses. You rise to feet carefully and your knees buckle as they wake up to support you. Ambling towards the kitchen, you tried to scrounge up the desire for anything other than a few mints.

Your pickings are rather slim. Even then everything would take longer than you know you have the energy to stand for. Huffing as you grabbed handful of mints before you make your back to bed. You crawled back into bed, grabbing your laptop in hopes you can find someway to pass the next round of sleepless.

Popping a mint in your mouth and scrolling through the various entertainment options, you happened across a show you know very well. Another time you might have smiled at your luck. Of course it recommends something that he was in. Rolling over to grab your phone, you unlock it to check what time it is over there.

2 am the clock answered. You swallowed the lump in your throat, remembering what he said last time.

“I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, call. I’d do anything for you. “

You glance at the clock once more and you lose your nerve.

“He’s halfway across the world right now and under enough stress. You’ll talk to him again when Friday comes around” you rationalize internally, “That’s more than 3 days away. You’ll be back to your usual by then. You always are.”

You shake your head and push the phone off the bed. Tucking an arm under your head and curling your knees to your chest, placing your laptop on top of them. You settle in with Forensic Files, hoping that Peter Thomas’s voice will eventually get you more sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come. You’ve lost count of how many episodes of Forensic Files that you’ve watched. All of them have blurred together. Once again the sun’s rays slowly painted your room in an array of reds, oranges, and finally yellows. Two more rounds of soft vzzzzt that go unanswered cause you to retreat back under the blankets once more.

For how long you remain there is unknown. All you known is that you’re forced to get up by your throbbing bladder. Then you’re back in your bed, curled up around a pillow and begging for sleep to come. Your body is sore, your mind is all fogged up, and by the time you do feel sleepy, the sun must be high in the sky.

Here's to another day of waking up after the sun has set. Daylight Savings Time is a bitch. There’s no use in checking your phone. You stretched and tried to sum up the strength to move your feet, knowing you need to at least try to make your way to the kitchen. Each step causes a shooting pain in your underused appendages.

Leaning against the counter, you grabbed a package of Cup Ramen from the cabinet. Not the healthiest choice, but the one that will take the shortest amount of time to cook. Adding the water and setting it in the microwave is the easiest part; having the strength to wait the 3 minutes to cook is the hardest.

Anxiety seeps in as you watched the timer go down. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you tried to pass the time without throwing yourself into an anxiety attack. Finally, the microwave beeps and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You opened the microwave and quickly stirred the contents of the cup together.

You make the trip back to the bed that’s been calling your name since you left. Although you’re not hungry, you have to try to eat. You ate earlier right?....Your stomach hadn’t give any indication of hunger. You ate as much as you could stomach before leaving the unfinished meal beside your bed.

Grabbing your laptop, you scrolled through for something, anything to distract you. In a moment of clarity, you remembered that last time he mentioned a nature documentary which he said you should watch. You found it easily and turned it on, curling your body around your laptop. In your bones, the numbness reared it’s ugly head once more.

The animals in documentary didn’t cause you to laugh at their antics like they usually would. You had to pause it. You felt like you were drowning in this void. What once might have been enough to drag you out of the darkness, no longer could do so. You had been doing so well; going to your appointments and working on coping with your trauma only for the empty pit to gobble you up once more.

Screwing your eyes shut as you take in one shaky breath after the other. Whatever strength that was left in your tired limbs, you willed to help get you through. You needed to be fine, he needed you to be fine. Every inch of you shook with hurt and sorrow as sleep waded in and out of your mind. It took forever to succumb.

A gentle chime woke you from your fitful sleep. You laid underneath your mountain of blankets and watched the gentle rise and fall that came with every breath you took. You blinked a few times as you attempted to stretch out your body. The chime had stopped by the time you were finally able to peak your head from where it was tangled in your cocoon.

The noise had emanated from your laptop. You inwardly curses yourself because you only know what that means. You left yourself logged into Skype and you reached a hand over to check who called. However, as soon as you did, the chime started up again, his name flashed on your screen.

A sob threatened to break loose from your lips. It couldn’t have been Friday already. Skype dates only happened on Friday and Saturdays, that was your routine. You glanced around your room and contemplated slamming your laptop closed. Based on the colors of the sun that painted your bedroom’s walls, it was early, much too early for his call.

Deep down you knew he would keep calling until you responded and as much as it pained you to do so, you had to give into him. You moved the cursor to hover over the accept button. With a deep breath, you clicked accept. You waited for the swoosh that always came before his face filled the screen.

You couldn’t face him like this. He didn’t deserve this. Your stomach was already upset, it didn’t need your anxiety making it worse. Burying your face in your hands, you heard the tell-tale noise that the call connected.

“Darling, there you are,” he exclaimed.

You had no choice but to peek between your fingers to see his smiling face. He looked so happy and full of light. You couldn’t dare to bring him down from his high. He was worthy of so much more, someone who wasn’t empty. Surely he could see that.

“As much as I’d love to talk your lovely hands, I’d rather talk to that face of yours.”

“Hen-“ Your voice cracked from not being used in so long.

“Please,” He begged.

Every inch of your body quaked, the inevitable was here. He would see you, see how broken and lost you were, and wouldn’t be able to take it. The expiration date for your time together was today.

“Please, sweetheart.” He tried again, his voice no louder than a whisper.

You shook your head in silent agreement to his plea. Trembling, your hands pealed away from your face and finally you saw your boyfriend’s face fully. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead and there was an inkling of stubble making an appearance on his face. His eyes were bright and warm as always. You could just barely make out the brown amongst the blue at the top of his left eye.

“There you are,” Henry murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“Hen-“

“Shhhh... I know it’s not Friday but I wanted to see you. Ariel was worried. I was worried.”

“I’m so sorry-” You started as you felt tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, love. I’m happy to see your face. I would ask how you are, but I think I know. Have you been taking your meds?”

“I don’t remember. All I know my stomach is a bit upset,” you whispered as the first hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’d reckon it’s been a few days then,” Henry sighed, ”Do you think could get up and make some green tea? That’s always helped in the past.”

You groaned, flopping backwards onto your bed. A few moments pass by in silence as you weighed your options.

“I can try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for, sweetheart,” admitted the blue eyed man,” How about you bring me with you?”

You nodded slowly. Henry was always good at reading you. It seemed that regardless of the distance between the two of you and the blurriness of the camera, his skill hadn’t waned. He knew you so well and right now you were thankful for that. There was so much you couldn’t say right now, you didn’t have the energy nor the clarity to do so.

Stretching your arms above your head, you winced at the stiffness in them. You had to do this, you had to fight that little voice in your head. You carefully moved yourself to the edge the bed. Taking a much needed deep breath, you forced your aching body to sit up. Gently, after a few moments, you maneuvered yourself to stand on your feet.

You glanced over at your computer screen and saw nothing but pride and encouragement in his blue eyes. It gave you the required push to grab your laptop and make your way towards the kitchen, tired body be damned. Normally, you feel safe and content in the silence with him. The freezing emptiness that had made it’s home amongst your bones and mortal flesh flourished in it.

“How’s filming going?” You croaked.

Henry was quick to fill the crushing silence “Remember that scene I mentioned to you last time…” His hearty timbre warming the outermost parts of your mind. Puttering around the kitchen, you put the kettle on and grabbed your favorite mug while listening. He could be speaking about blue-footed boobies and you would still be rapt.

Sooner than you would of liked, the kettle sung it’s annoying little tune. Carefully, you snatched it off the stove and poured into the waiting mug. You dropped the teabag in and leaned up against the counter. Glancing over at the computer, you saw Henry watching you with a smile on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Henry beamed.

You tried to blink away the tears that remained in your eyes. “I boiled water. Nothing too special about that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Shakily setting the down the mug, you forced yourself to take some deep breaths, but it does nothing to stop the onslaught of tears. They blazed in hot trails down your cheeks.

“My brain doesn’t work, Hen. The fog sets in and it’s like I can’t do the simplest tasks. I can’t even just go through the motions,” You sobbed

“Oh, darling,” his voice barely a whisper and your gaze remained on the floor, arms wrapped around your quaking form.

“Nothing’s working…. I’m so tired of feeling like this. I don’t even feel alive anymore. Just empty and cold all the time.”

Silence fell over the two of you once again; only being pierced by your shuddering breaths as you tried regain control. It took a few moments to calm yourself. You brushed away the remaining tears and finally glance up at him.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I know you’re struggling. I’m worried about you being all alone right now with everything that’s going on,” Henry admitted,” How about you ask Ariel to come stay with you? Just until I finish filming.”

“I…I can do that.”

“I want you to know you don’t have to stick to our schedule. I know you like the consistency it brings, but I don’t mind if you call other times, love. I’d be happy to hear your voice more often.”

Nodding your head, you grabbed your abandoned tea and took a sip. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too. We’re in this together, us against the problem.”

Somehow his words seemed to pierce at the remaining chill in your body. He was exactly what you needed, your lighthouse in the storm. No matter how far apart you may be, you’ll always find your way back to his loving embrace.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #real person fiction #celebrity fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #rpf

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xxsmokeyy · 4 years

Text

Levi x Reader (F) Tattoo

genre: smut, angst

summary: as he ends things, you desperately offer him your body, telling him to mark you even if it’s for the last time.

wc: 4,200

The darkness of the night takes over your flat, as you refuse to turn any source of light on, dead silence engulfing the space. It's comforting, the dim, solemn room. Lying alone on the bed you shared with your lover, you stare at the seeping light from the windows. If only you could switch the street lights off.

You don't know where it went wrong. This whole time, you settled with the assumption that everything was going well, that he looks at you the same way you do. But you have yet to learn.

It's like he's drifting away every passing day. Like he's growing distant every waking second. His change of behavior doesn't escape your scrutiny, even if his actions are as subtle as they can be. You notice how he scoots away from you on the sheets, and how he almost doesn't seem to need a share of the covers. How he disappears earlier than you can wake up, and how he only leaves you with a note saying he's off to work. It only tends to get worse everytime.

No, he's not seeing another person. After three years and a half together, you're quite confident you know him well. Quite. But eitherway, he isn't the type of man who'd cheat. He's a good guy, you know that for sure.

That's why you don't know how it came to this.

Were you not enough? Did you do something to throw him off? Is he sick of you? Has he lost his interest?

Thoughts and doubts flood your mind like crazy, leaving you wide awake with no room for rest. You check the time, and it's a few minutes past his expected return. He should be here any moment now.

Yet an hour passes by like years, and you feel your heart swell out of nothing good. As you check your phone religiously, you heave a sigh, toss, and turn. You just hope he's not drinking, though he's not the kind to drink until he's wasted. Heck, he's never even reached the point where he's tipsy. A smile creeps up your lips as you recall the times when you'd both drink, you ending up a mess and him always babysitting you, sweeping you up from your feet once you'd had enough and drive home, completely sober compared to you.

Before you know it, another hour passes by. Time feels like nothing. Void and numb. Maybe you should have taken your friends' night out invitation? You haven't caught up with them these past months. But you‘re aware you'll just space out and think of him when you're supposed to be having a good time.

Then, you feel your soul light up as you hear the front door open. Should you pretend you're asleep? Should you greet him and ask him if he's had dinner? Knowing him, he'll only scold you for staying up for too late.

You swiftly turn your back against the bedroom's door but don't bother to close your eyes. You sense him enter, and your heart flutters nervously. You wonder where he's been and what took him so long, just to eventually keep your questions to yourself.

His side of the bed sinks as he sits and loosens his tie, readying himself of some eyeshut. You wait for him to lie down, but he never does. Curiosity filling your brain, you ache to take a peek at what he's doing, but he's still steadily seated.

“You’re still up,” he says, perfectly aware. Your breath was queerly uneven, and you didn’t wrap yourself with the blankets the way you did. He knows.

Your breath hitches, freezing for a moment. Just how critical is he? Unsure whether to speak or not, undecided of what to say, you prop yourself up with your elbows and sit up, back leaning against the headboard. A long, defeated sigh leaves your lips.

It’s painfully silent. You take a glance at him and you’re greeted by his broad back. Both of you stay quiet, waiting for whoever initiates a conversation. It’s not awkward, nor is it uncomfortable. Just… despondent. Low.

“You can tell me,” you suddenly blurt out, voice but a whisper. You look at your hands and mindlessly fiddle with your fingers.

“Tell you what?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know already.

“I’m not dumb, you know,” you inform, shifting your gaze to the windowpanes. Curse those street posts, you prefer complete blackness, else he’d see how broken you are.

“Nothing’s up,” he says, and it ticks you off. Does he think you’re stupid or something? This has been going on for months, it’s impossible to try and not talk about it. “Just to remind you, I’m your partner,” you state with a firm voice. Let’s not beat around the bush here, Levi.

His muscles strain upon hearing your “reminder”. You probably caught him there. No one dares speak, letting a couple minutes fly by like nothing. You know he wants to say something, you can feel it, he’s tense. What’s stopping him?

You sigh for the uncountable time, giving up. “Let’s go get our rest, alright?” you place a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen as you hear him. He less than seldom said that phrase, and it fears you the most that he’s saying it now of all times. You wish you were stupid to not get what he means. This is exactly how a guy like him would end it, but you want to play dense and pry it out of him. Everything. Because a sorry won’t be enough to answer your questions.

“Is it me?” you ask dryly, back to fidgeting with your fingers, heart thumping so wildly it’s like it’s about to explode.

“No.”

“Someone else?” It’s not.

“No,” he says, voice calm as ever. Figures.

“Then what?” your brows furrow as you question him, impatience starting to ring in your tone. His back facing you, his short words, his disinclined attitude, they’re frustrating. If he wants to end this, he better elaborate and be his most rational self.

He stays silent. You couldn’t take it any longer and open your mouth to speak, but before you could say a word, he finally answers, “I’m not fit for this.”

You fall mute, letting his words sink in. You wanted to burst into laughter, but you can’t. The atmosphere is simply too heavy, it’s weighing you down. Not fit? For what?

“Give me an idea. I can’t keep guessing here, Levi,” your pitch breaks as you call his name, the tension strangling you to death. “You have to tell it to my face!” you beg desperately. You’re right, he should quit cowering behind his excuses. He’s going to end this, and explain why, because you deserve it of all people. So he turns around to face you, but immediately regrets it the moment he does.

You are, indeed, broken.

No, you didn’t have the tear stained face a lady has when she’s been suffering long. No, your hair wasn’t a mess like you didn’t bother fixing yourself. No, you didn’t get thinner from neglecting food. In fact, you looked too perfect. Too organized, like you poured the whole of your attention into your appearance. Like you wanted to pamper yourself so you wouldn’t descend into an unrecognizable mess. Like you needed to look fine to convince everyone you are.

But the excessive effort goes to waste, the culprit being your eyes. Your eyes gave it away. The exhaustion in them is so unbearably visible, sabotaging your forged front. That, and a hundred more emotions underneath.

He hates it. He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting, especially if it’s because of him. And the way you tried to conceal it? He has to end this, fast. He can’t stand making you suffer even more.

“Listen, I tried everything, but I’m just not one for relationships,” he explains, looking you straight in the eye even though it pains him to. “I can’t love,” he averts his gaze for a fleeting moment upon saying the word. It’s too cheesy for his liking, but he has to go on. “And I doubt you can stay with a man who can’t show the least intimacy,” he adds.

Frozen, your brows furrow in helplessness. It’s all happening too quick. He’s definitely breaking up with you. He probably thought of this long ago but just can’t bring himself to do it. Now that you pushed him, he’s decided.

“I’m sorry.” And with that, he turns away and stands up, grabbing his coat and keys to leave. You witness as your world starts to crumble.

That’s it? Because he can’t love? What about the kisses you exchanged? The times you made love? The way he stays and listens as you go on about your day and problems? The meals you prepared for each other? His scoldings whenever you don’t clean to his standards?

More than three years of memories flash before your eyes as he takes his steps toward the door. After all these years, that’s the conclusion he comes up with?

“No…” you mutter, staring at his disappearing figure powerlessly.

You get up on your foot and run to him, later tripping over yourself from your weak strength. He hears the thud and spins around to help you right away. You’re on the carpeted floor, kneeling as you look at the ground. You‘re unable to feel your tears start to well on the corners of your eyes.

Levi grabs your shoulders with both hands to assist you up. “Brat, let’s get you to bed,” he says. A chuckle slips from your mouth by hearing the little nickname he calls you by. It’s funny how you find it more romantic than the sweet endearments people use with their lovers. Hearing something you consider romantic when he just ended things, ironic.

He ignores your unhumorous giggle and tries to lift you but you refuse. “I must’ve not been enough,” you mumble feebly. He doesn’t like it. You’re obviously drained of energy from pretending to be fine for too long, and now that he spilled it, you’re left with nothing but to show how affected you are.

“It’s not that.”

“Then it’s someone else,” you argue as if fully convinced, though you know it isn’t. You’re looking for excuses, anything else other than his reason. Because this is so much worse.

Because from here on, you’re going to blame yourself, look for some flaw, rummage your system for something wrong, and question what you lack. If only you could pinpoint anything, you’d be content.

“I told you already,” he presses, wrapping your hands around his neck to then carry you in his arms. But you refuse. You find the position convenient, and instead lean into his face for an unexpected kiss.

The moment you feel his warm lips, your tears stream uncontrollably. Oh, how you love kissing him. This is gonna be the last, right? There’s no making him stay anymore. You know Levi. Once he’s decided, he’s unbreakable. If so, you just want to savor it, one last time.

He pulls away, shocked by your sudden action. Shit. “Stop it,” he orders in a curt manner, catching his breath. He doesn’t want to see you like this.

“Please…” you beg, going in for another, and another, and another. Your soft tongue enters his mouth, searching for intimacy. He’s kissing back. He could easily push you away and leave right at this very moment, but he chooses to kiss you back.

Is it out of pity? No it isn’t.

He pulls you closer and kisses you back, trying to respond with the same passion. The same emotion. If there’s anything he can do to feel the same way as you, he’d do it at the end of his tether.

You take away one hand to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing with your thumb his velvet skin. He’s flawless. Everything you could’ve asked for. But he just has to slip past your fingers, past your reach.

A quiet sob escapes your lips as you lean back for breath, face buried into the crook of his neck. He’s so damn warm, you don’t want to lose him. Though you know you have to let him go, you’re not selfish.

“All this time, you stayed with me knowing you don’t love me?” you ask, voice muffled as you speak into his skin. He doesn’t answer, and you hear another sorry. Aren’t you humble today.

You nod continuously before raising your head to look at his soothing, grey eyes. They’re the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen your whole life. “Please… just let me feel you.” You close the distance and kiss him, passion burning in your movements. You love the man so much, it might be a sin in another reality. Sure, you’ll leave him alone and let him be as he wants, but right now, you just want to feel him, deep inside your body. Just one last time.

“Please, Levi. Take me,” you breathe out in between the lip locking, a lone tear sliding down your cheeks. He doesn’t know how to respond, but he follows your request by picking you up and settling you back on the mattress.

Is this okay? Is this taking advantage of her?

It may be crazy, but you could hear his thoughts out loud through his eyes while he climbs on the sheets and sits in front of you. You gently shake your head to convince him that it’s alright, reaching out both hands to taste his lips once more. Levi answers back like nothing’s wrong, like you’re still together. He wants to find something. Anything.

Your hands crawl to his dark strands, running your fingers through them gently. You remember combing his hair with your hands randomly as an intimate gesture, and he doesn’t complain everytime. He’s certainly grown fond of you, but probably not in that way.

You help him unbutton his shirt and he helps you lift your silk top, exposing both your naked chests. He observes you for a second, the dim light casting abstract shadows on the dips and structures of your face. “Take me…” you whisper and he grunts in response as you both fall into the bed, him positioned on top of you. Deep down, you feel your heart sting in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he grazes his lips on your skin, inducing goosebumps on your whole body. You throw your head back to give him moving space and let him explore every inch of you.

He lets his mouth travel onto the peaks of your breasts, lips still wet from the exchange of kisses. The warm sensation forces a mewl out of you, and he continues. This is the last request you ask of him, and he’ll listen to your whims. It’s only one detail different from when you did it before.

He alternates from the two mounds once more, giving it a few shallow pecks before going down to remove your bottom. You’re now lying naked as he watches you for a brief moment.

You’re beautiful. You had what every man can wish for; a perfect body, a considerate nature, and a beautiful face. Of course you have more than just that, he never underestimated you. The problem really is with him and his apathetic psyche, and he can’t stay with someone as pure as you. You might be a mess right now, but you’re a tough one, you can stand by your own, even if he’s not there anymore.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" Levi asks as he hovers just above you. His voice is soothing like lulling you to sleep. You hum in agreement and sling your hands around his nape, kissing him yet again. Though still a bit reluctant, you hear him finally remove his trousers. Before you know it, he enters your depth, and you could feel him become one with you. It's another wonderful mix of pleasure and pain.

As your tongue spar with his, he then begins to buck his hips into you leisurely, earning him a couple stifled moans. His pace is slow and sensual, only adding up to the growing illusion that you were inlove.

Your eyes are closed shut, trying to prevent the tears from materializing so he won't see. You feel his length rub against your walls along with the stimulation of him kissing your neck. "Mark me," you beg quietly. He starts suckling on your bare skin just like you wanted, leaving a lone, but red lovebite.

Yes, you'd cherish that until it eventually disappears, because it's the last lingering memory of him you'll have on your body. Is it ridiculous to love someone this much within three years or so? Maybe it is. Maybe you are ridiculous. But can they blame you? You just loved.

As Levi thrusts further into you, the stray fringes of his undercut swaying back and forth along with your breaths running, he gives himself a chance to try and look for something he should feel with a lover. His lips slam into yours endlessly as he rummages.

The harmonious sounds of skin slapping against one another, catching of breath, and restricted grunts and moans cover the entire room, and for once, you feel less alone. The fact that he took on your pleas make you happy. He probably still feels something as well, just not enough. Not enough to stop him from leaving.

You run a hand along his muscular back, nails digging lightly as you feel him hit your good spot. He pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips with his.

“Levi," you whimper. As you look at him with dazy, wanton eyes, he sees how you want more of him. He obliges by touching you everywhere, your love handles, your hair, your cheeks. You grab his jaw so that you're now holding each other's face and give him a small, weak smile. Is it pity that you feel, Levi?Your hand slides down his naked torso, index finger particularly stopping at his heart, vision darting on the same spot. Tell me, is there something there?

Though you know full well by yourself that even if it’s just pity that’s driving him to do this, you’d still gladly accept it.

To hell with dignity, you want to feel him tonight badly, even if this is nothing more than a plea of desperation.

A gasp leaves your mouth and you arch your back in fervor as he rams deeper, keeping his sensual pace at bay. He feels so good, everything feels so good, that you wouldn’t want it any other way. His eyes stay on yours, fierce gaze diving deep into the pools of your glowing orbs. It’s the kind of stare that’d make your knees tremble, and you still remember him using it on you when you first met.

He lets his hand roam around your body, fondling your breasts and tweaking your nipples, earning him a moan of pleasure. He lets his lips brush on your skin, sucking rashly on the red spot he made just a while ago to intensify it, making it last longer.

He knows just what you want, for him to embed his ownership into your body, burning into your skin. Emotions stir inside you like a tornado on the loose, you love him so much.

Levi grinds his hips down you firmly as he feels you nearing based from your shakier breathing and tighter walls. He uses his thumb to flick on your clitoris, and you transcend into a moaning mess upon feeling your orgasm building quickly in your guts.

You wish things would stay this way, wish for time to slow down, if possible, even stop. This is the last moment you could savor, because after this you know he’d leave the door right that instant, just like how easily he did it minutes ago. By that time, you can’t beg him anymore, nor can you make him stop. This is nothing but an inevitable goodbye.

He gently circles your most sensitive spot, as if you’re bound to break by any motion wilder. It’s almost totally contrary to how you both had sex before, the roughness not being there, the harsh movements, and the need to impose domination. You’re thankful he’s doing it nice and slow, just a little passionate, elongating the short time a tad more. Atleast he’s making an effort.

He was drunkening, starting from his ardent thrusts to the mere skin contact. You then feel your spasms closer, and you wrap your hands around his body for support, the brimming desire bottling inside you about to explode.

“Levi—!”

He continues moving to your will, and it takes you one last hump before an immense surge of pleasure rolls all throughout your body, to your limbs down into the tips of your fingers causing you to erupt and shake. Your trembling cavern wrap around him perfectly while you pulsate, heartbeat in exquisite sync. Momentarily, you forget the entirety. Your memories, his words, your current situation, him leaving you.

As you squirm underneath him, Levi stops to let you be and not make you feel overwhelmed from the aching sensitivity, waiting for your high to wear down before he pulls out. Earlier becoming one with one another, it’s only until then that you feel empty and lonely again.

You fall boneless, gasping for air, vision just a bit bleary. You fail to see him sit upright and buckle his belt to make off. It’s happening.

Levi glances at you to see if you’re out cold and senseless, but finds you covering your eyes with your forearm, hiding your threatening tears from his sight. You’re awake.

He mentally sighs. It’s no use. In the end, he felt nothing.

Once you’ve pulled back your tears before they can form, you uncover your face and give him a look so visibly painful no matter how much you conceal it. “You can stay with me. Even if it’s just as friends,” you mutter, voice almost inaudible, but he hears. He gently shakes his head as refusion. That’d be taking advantage of you, and he wouldn’t want to do that.

You look at Levi with worn and droopy eyes, feeling the most helpless. You couldn’t stop him. Your heart stutters vigorously from inside its rib cage as he leans forward and he kisses you. You’re dumbstruck upon feeling his pair of warm lips land flat onto your forehead. Laying back there, immobilized and unable, you couldn’t do a single thing as you watch him quickly slip away from your reach. He wears his clothes, grabs a couple of his important stuffs and finally leaves without looking back, not one time.

The sound of the door shutting echoes inside your lonesome suit, resonating repeatedly in your ears. A dry and excruciating chuckle leaves your throat as if to try and prevail over the looming desolation, bitterness seething inside your veins, crippling like venom.

How cruel. He’s that ready? And he didn’t even bother bringing with him all of his things, huh? Guess you’ll decide later on whether to throw them out or wait for him to get them.

You swear, you tried the best you could to keep it in. You were spent to the bones both mentally and emotionally, you thought you can’t weep any more.

But you cried yourself to sleep for only the heavens know how long, sobs so heavily restrained in such a way that you think he was just behind the door and might hear you. Your hiccups uncontrollable, bursting out in an explosive manner that brought you uttermost difficulty to pull air into your lungs. Months of trying to understand, same time trying to not break, your brain doesn’t understand if finally crying it all out is relieving or only becoming more unbearable.

Your resentment only fuels as you witness the morning sun start to pour into your room shortly before you drift into unconsciousness.

The next day was an even more awfully hard battle, the growing static in your heart devouring your body. Getting used to being without him, coping on your own, practicing your smile as you prepare yourself to work only to ditch it and ask for a sick leave. When you pass by a mirror, you see nothing but a wreckage. Your pain is clear as day it’s utterly impossible to forge a front or make believable excuses.

A wave of alien emotion hits you as you keenly eye the lovebite he left just above your clavicle. You touch it as if the tip of your fingers were magnetized into doing so, as if you can feel him through it. You want to think of yourself as a canvas, and the small mark as his artwork.

You look at yourself once more, gently pressing on the reddened skin. A tiny but self-assuring smile appears on your lips as you observe both the hickey and your physique. It’s surely going to take a while, but you’ll be okay.

Besides, even tattoos fade after time.

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spencerreidscoffeecup · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5 | Beautifully Broken

TW: Self-harm, mentions of parental death, mentions of ab*se (from father), suicidal, depression, anxiety attack, (almost) an overdose on antidepressants, emetophobia (fear of v*miting if you don't know the technical term), cutting, s*icidal phone call

If you think any of this will bother you, I will write a short summary on the next chapter of this chapter so you can skip over this one!

Y/N's POV

"Thanks for the party, Spencer. I'm sorry."

I close his car door, taking a deep breath, the early morning air causing the hairs on the back of my neck to spike up. I feel terrible for how I acted to Spencer. He was just trying to help- but I couldn't bring him into my mess. I loved him too much to do that.

I walked inside, too emotionally exhausted to cry. I felt alone again, and that somewhat inexplicable feeling of wanting to control something in my life, besides what I consumed resurfaced. I set my things down, and walked to the bathroom. It was weird. I felt like I was in this dreamy state, like this wasn't happening--like I was numbed in the mind and being controlled by a greater force than me as if I was a marionette. I felt calm. Weirdly calm. As I entered my bathroom, I took the sharp, lustrous silver blade out of my bottom drawer.. Inserting it deep into my skin until I felt small relief. I looked in the mirror, the pain searing through my arm, my face stoic. I didn't even recognize myself.

I wished I could talk to someone, anyone. It wasn't that I didn't have people to talk to-because I did. I knew Spencer would listen to me if I wanted to talk to him.. But it wasn't about people listening or not listening to me. It was about me using this blade to cope with my problems instead of me growing a pair and talking to someone.

All the same, I never did anything about it, instead letting my problems eat me away. When I was younger and harming myself without exactly knowing what I was doing, my mom used euphemism to explain to me that what I was doing was unhealthy, so I wouldn't feel like I was a lunatic for scratching myself on purpose at seven years old because I thought I deserved it.

My mother was the only thing that kept me from taking my own life. I was not only dealing with depression and anxiety by the time I was in second grade; but was also dealing with physical and mental abuse from my father. I honestly had no idea how someone as kind and caring as my mother could be with someone so monstrous as my father. She was too sick to do anything about it, so I just took whatever my father gave me.

After my mother died and my father was made to look after me, he began hitting me more. One day, I decided I had had enough and left in the middle of the night. I took his money, and bought myself an apartment three hours from where we lived. I was only eighteen at the time and so I immediately was stressed out with how I was going to pay my bills and taxes, as well. So I then got six part-time jobs. I did online school, and graduated college at twenty. School was my only escape from my life, so I finished the courses quickly, as I was not only passionate about being in the BAU (it was always my dream-job), but I also loved the feeling of accomplishing things. I graduated early and top of my class. I joined the BAU three years later.

As you could probably tell, I was extremely busy. This was a good excuse for me to 'forget' to eat. I had always dealt with body dysmorphic issues, but my father made it worse, calling me ugly and obese all the time. I was nowhere near obese. I was 5'3 and 105 pounds. But because I was so insecure, I began to stop eating on purpose. I went on two-hour runs everyday and only drank water and ate ice-cubes and celery.

I try talking to people about it, but they either feel sympathy then leave, or instantly shut me down, telling me I am stupid for thinking that way. That's why it's so hard to talk to someone, even someone so close to me like Spencer. I knew he cared, and deep down I knew that he wouldn't leave, but my anxiety fogged away any chances I had at being reasonable. Therefore leading me to believe I would have to bottle up these feelings alone. I lie in my bed, closing my eyes so I can drift into a slumber to forget about everything for a few hours. I am alone.

Spencer's POV

8:00 a.m., Monday (2 days after the party)

The shriek of my alarm wakes me up, the sound setting off every nerve in my body. I quickly get ready, then head to the office. Memories of Friday night start to flood my brain, as guilt and anxiety create a hazy fog over the images. Had I done something wrong by trying to help Y/n? No, I couldn't have... she needs help and sometimes people have a hard time with confrontation, I knew that- I knew that from personal experiences.

I texted and called her about five times each, trying to make sure she was okay, but she had never returned my texts or calls, she only read my texts. I had been debating going over to her apartment and seeing her, but I decided against it. I had to talk to her today.

I get ready then drive to the BAU, nervously tapping my hand on the steering wheel. I arrive a few minutes early, and walk inside. The bullpen is quiet but busy. I look around, no Y/n to be seen.. Just Derek and a fresh stack of paperwork sitting on my desk, awaiting my arrival. "It's fine," I think, "she's probably just late. I also arrived two minutes earlier than usual so she is going to probably be here any minute." I try to convince myself but I just have this twisting sensation in my gut, as if something is wrong. I brush it off to be a guilty conscious or anxiety, and continue on with my paperwork.

Y/N's POV

2 days after the party, 8:00 am

I woke up this morning, from my alarm chiming in my ears. I can't go to work today. I can't. So I text Hotch:

From Y/n to Boss-Man:

Hey Hotch. I unfortunately cannot come into work today as there is a family emergency.

I know he knows that I have no family members left, but maybe he'll think it's a friend that's almost like my family,- emergency.

From Boss-Man to Y/n:

Okay, don't worry about it. There isn't much paperwork to be done today so you can just get it done tomorrow or Wednesday... Whenever you get to it. Take care, and let me know if you need anything

From Y/n to Boss-Man:

Will do. Thank you so much. :)

Hotch sends a thumbs-up back and I set my phone down, fidgeting with my fingers. I think of Spencer.. How he has called and texted me but I haven't replied back. I feel like shit. I just couldn't bring him into this mess with me. I walk to my kitchen, grabbing some water, and my medications. I take them, then look back down at the bottle. If I wanted to end it all I could. I walk away and sit on my couch. I can't do this anymore.

I lie down, and fall asleep for a few hours.

Spencer's POV

The day is almost over and there is no sign of the beautifully broken angel. My heart sinks a bit and I just can't get rid of that nervous feeling in my stomach. I finish my paperwork, turning it into Hotch before I ask him,

"Do you know where Y/n is?"

"She said she needed time off for a 'family emergency'." he says honestly.

She told me that she doesn't have any family members around, a few months ago. She never explained why, but she seemed touchy about the subject so I never pushed it any further.

I gather my things and leave to go to my apartment.

In the middle of driving home, I hear my phone buzz. I ignore it, not wanting to be distracted from driving. But the buzzing is consistent, distracting me already from driving. So, I cautiously pick my phone up to see Y/n's number flash across my screen. I almost crash my car into the other car in front of me, my heart skipping nervously. I answer.

"Spencer," I hear sobs breaking from her throat, tearing my heart apart. "I-I did something really stupid."

Y/N's POV

I woke from my slumber, the purple skies filling my vision as the night air from my open windows seeps into my apartment. I hear a buzz from my phone.

Boss-Man to Y/n:

Hello, I hope all is well. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer. I have some bad news. We believe your father is trying to track you down to find you. Try not to worry too much, we have you secured and locked down. Call me as soon as you can so I can give you more info.

I feel my throat close up, bile rising in my throat. I thought I was safe. I moved two cities down from where I used to live. My panic sets in as I begin to hyperventilate.

"No no no.. this cannot be happening right now." I whisper to myself, tears pouring out of my eyes. I hear my phone buzz some more, but I am too distracted to read any of it. I want to go away and never come back.

I rush to the bathroom, grabbing that metal blade and dragging it slowly across my skin. It didn't work. I didn't feel relief. I scream angrily, rushing to the kitchen. I want this to be over. I don't want to die. I just want the pain to stop.

With shaky hands I grasp my antidepressant prescription bottle. Taking a handful of them and washing them down with water as I wince, some scraping the back of my dry throat. I feel like I'm watching myself from a third-person point of view. I can't stop thinking of one thing-one person, as I fully swallow those pills. Spencer. I need him. I need to call him. So without thinking, I grab my phone, ignoring the missed calls and texts from Hotch. I quickly dial Spencer's number, as wrecking sobs break from my voice.

Spencer's POV:

"Spencer," I hear sobs breaking from her throat, tearing my heart apart. "I-I did something really stupid."

"What did you do?" I ask, keeping my voice soft.

"I can't do this anymore- I couldn't do this anymore. I'm sorry. I tried to cope with it but I can't anymore. I wanna go away. He's back." she chokes through her sobs, breathing heavily.

I try to compose myself, to not freak her out. Truth be told, I'm completely and utterly terrified.

"W-Who's back?" I stutter, "what happened, Angel?" I ask, trying to hold back my own sobs as tears fall down my cheeks. Who is she talking about?

"I was trying to get better, I'm sorry. I-I love you. I always have." she cries, gasping for air.

My heart hurts but swells at the admittance. I want to say that I love her too, but I can't. All that comes out of my mouth is,

"I'm coming over there." I turn my car around to head to her direction.

I try to talk to her, to ask her what's wrong, but she never answers my questions, only saying that she's sorry. She hangs up, and I panic more. I arrive at her place, running up to her apartment, as I open the door with the spare key she gave me.

Running in, I see her on the floor, lying there like a broken angel, unconscious. I see the pill bottles and my heart drops down to my stomach. It felt like a blur; me running over to her, and putting her in a bathtub with water, letting her lay on me as we both get soaked under her shower head. I take my two fingers and plunge them deeply into her throat, cringing slightly. A few moments go by and I hear coughing and gagging, throwing up the pills and bile that was left in her throat. She gasps for air, clutching on to my hand as I continue to comfort her, by rubbing her back and brushing her hair out of her face. She turns to me and cries.

"I-I'm sorry," she says through sobs.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," I softly say to her as she wraps me in one of her hugs. "You're going to be okay... I'm gonna help you- we'll get through this together." I use my free hand to turn off the water and we just lie there, cuddling. I kiss the top of her head, as she sniffles into my shirt. Tears sting my eyes, but I need to be strong.

"I'm proud of you," I whisper to her.

"Why?" she whispers back, grasping my body to pull me closer to her.

"Because you called me." I say.

After about ten more minutes of us sitting in her tub, I gently help her out of the water, giving her a towel, and some warm clothes. She keeps the bathroom door cracked open slightly as she changes. I then change and walk to her bedroom where she is.

"C-can you stay the night? Like sleep in the bed with me, please. I want someone here with me." she stutters nervously.

"Of course," I reply softly.

I get into the bed with her as she pulls me closer to her body. I kiss her forehead and she lies down on my chest.

"Thank you, Spencer." she whispers before falling into her own quiet slumber.

"I would do anything for you." I whisper back, not really meaning for her to hear it, but she looks up at me and smiles softly, that beautiful smile of hers. I take my thumb and gently caress her cheek with it. My cheeks burn a light pink but I am sure she can't see it as it is dark in her room, besides the white glowing moon casting a shiny glow on to her, making her look like a fairy.

As I drift off to sleep, I am reminded of what she said earlier... about her loving me.

'I love you too, Y/n', I think to myself. 'I always will.'

___________________________________________________________________________

AN: SAD. SAD. SAD. this chapter is very sad, I know, but I promise that it will get happier (there is a happy ending!!! i love happy endings!)

love you all!

Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255

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#spencerreid #spencerreidxreader #drspencerreid #criminalmindsspencerreid #criminalmindsfanfic #angst #suicideawareness

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emmanelson · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: Nose Rings and Nightcaps

you guys asked for a follow up chapter so here you go

takes place during 2x04: ...Had an Indian Frenemy

Devi tried not to let Aneesa get under her skin. And for most of the day, she was good at faking a smile or a laugh when she needed to.

“We still on for tutoring this week?” Paxton had caught up to her in the hallway and Devi attempted to send him a smile.

“Yeah. But let’s go to your house. I think my grandmother has a crush on you.”

Paxton was glancing over at Aneesa and Devi saw red.

“Saw you talking to Neese. She’s dope. You guys friends?” Not you too, Devi thought to herself in horror. Would Paxton call her Devi 2.0 as well?

“Yeah, pretty dope.” Devi muttered under her breath before turning on her heel and walking away with an eye roll.

Not wanting things to end on such a bad note, Devi slowly walked back up to Paxton and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you want a quickie in the janitor’s closet?”

His pulse sped up as he blinked, staring at her in disbelief. “Aren’t you worried about being late to class?” People had begun to disperse, the hallways emptying as students ran in different direction and they were the only ones left that Devi could see.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’ll see you later then.” Just as she was able to make a dramatic exit and turn back to give him a flirty smile, he had secured her wrist and pulled her back towards him.

“Five minutes enough time?”

‘If you can last that long.” The two stared at each other, equally cocky expressions forming as they practically ran towards the vacant closet trying not to laugh.

“So what subject should we start with?” Paxton inquired as soon as Devi situated herself at his kitchen table.

“Biology?”

“But with History, all you have to do is rap and suddenly it makes sense. Can you do something like that for me with Bio?”

“Look at biology in terms of swimming.” The look Paxton gave her was one of confusion and incredulous.

“The last thing I want to think about is swimming while I still have this damn cast.”

Devi’s mouth opened only to close a few seconds later as she tried to change the subject, he made a valid point.

Devi leaned up to an upper level in the pantry and Paxton was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a good minute or two when he saw her bare skin.

“Are you good having a snack break? Our brains need food as well.”

He felt like shoving her against the door of the pantry and fuck her until her entire body was shaking, but his mouth felt like cotton so he found himself nodding.

Devi moved further into the kitchen and made her way towards the fridge. She got out the filtered water, placing it on the counter and filled up two glasses before setting it back where it was prior. When she shut the door, her body jolted in response as two strong arms wrapped around her waist and turned her so she was now facing him.

Within the time that Devi had gotten the Britta back in the fridge, Paxton pressed his body against hers so she was placed between the firmness of his body and the sturdy metal of the fridge door.

“Shouldn’t this wait until after we get through your assignment?” Devi murmured against his lips, exhaling a shallow breath as she fought to curve into his body and let school be damned.

“Sex is basic biology isn’t it?” His breath was hot against her ear and her knees threatened to buckle out from under her. “A primal instinct. An animalistic urge.” He nipped at her collarbone, teeth and tongue switching off as his hands went underneath her shirt to cup her breasts.

“Pheromones are detected through the hippocampus.” She shuddered against him as she spoke, the words coming out slowly as she struggled to level her breathing.

“How do you make biology sound so sexy?” Her lips parted as he let out a low chuckle. She only buried her face against the fabric of his flannel, trying to hide the blush that now painted her cheeks. With his only good arm he lifted up her body and pushed her against the cool metal, an involuntary squeal slipping past her lips as her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Say something else.”

“Hormones are produced and secreted by the endocrine glands.”

“Why is this turning me on?” Paxton grunted, his throbbing lower region rubbing against her core, only fueling her desires.

“What can I say? I know what I’m talking about.” She never thought that being smart would lead to this kind of situation.

“I need to learn how to apply this stuff right?” His voice dropped to a husky tone as Devi once again gulped, her brain turning to mush as her legs began to shake.

“Where’s Rebecca? Your mom?”

“Work, and my mom is tending to her garden out back. She usually plays 60’s music or listens to Christian audiobooks.”

“So she won’t be able to hear us?” Her fingers toyed with the zipper on his jeans, his hard-on poking through the fabric.

“Not if you’re quiet enough.” Her eyes widened at the tone his voice now took, it was almost demanding and harsh against her skin, the intensity of his gaze never wavering.

Paxton almost scoffed at her doe-eyed gaze but then kissed her so he wouldn’t keep feeling like a dick. With that, his jeans dropped and he was pulling her shorts down, her underwear following soon after, the wetness seeping from it was felt on her ankles.

Soon he was inside her and each time she lifted her hips to meet his, her shirt rode up and the cold hit her back, causing goosebumps to raise on her arms. She didn’t mind this kind of tutoring.

The following Friday, Devi and Paxton were texting back and forth while she sat with Aneesa and Eleanor in her bedroom.

And they still texted as Devi got to know Aneesa and decided that she wasn’t all that bad after-all. Ben had stomped away from her after she had gotten her nose pierced, Eleanor and Aneesa were probably blocks ahead of her by now and all she wanted to do was sit down on the bench and listen to her dad’s voicemail until the sun came up. She didn’t want to go home, but she knew she couldn’t stay in an abandoned parking lot so she walked until her feet had carried her straight to Paxton’s house.

She had walked, rode by on her bike, and memorized every turn her mom took in the car for so long now that it was basically muscle memory.

She hesitantly knocked on the door to his garage, and his face came into view as he rubbed his eyes.

“Were you sleeping? Do you fall asleep in the garage a lot?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she took in his disheveled form. He still looked hot even in a T-shirt and sweats.

“Nah, I was up playing Fortnite.” The glow from the TV hit Devi’s eyes as soon as she stepped in and he shut the door behind them. “Is that a nose ring?” He took a step closer to her and leaned in, inspecting the new piece of jewelry she was sporting.

“It looks nice.” Devi was glad it was pitch black outside because she was surely turning beet red. It looked badass actually, but Paxton wasn’t about to be singing her praises just yet. He still felt like he was getting a bucket of ice poured on his chest whenever she came into view.

“Did you come here for a nightcap or something?” He teased, eyes momentarily leaving hers as he scanned his phone to check the time. It wasn’t too often that she was even out this late, let alone showing up to his place in the middle of the night.

She slowly leaned up and brushed her lips against his. She kissed him slowly, her lips moving against him as if she was burning and he provided the only source of water available. She wanted to savor it, but at the same time knew she had to stick to their arrangement.

“Maybe more of a late night booty call?” She cringed at her own use of the word, but it brought a smile out onto Paxton’s face, and she would gladly take the embarrassment if he kept looking at her with that smile, with those eyes.

“Do you always look this good?” He asked, upon seeing the outline of her skirt, how it was torn at the ends and how he wanted to rip whatever remained so it was off her body.

“If you’re quiet enough, we won’t wake your parents or sister.” She repeated his words from earlier, a finger coming up to hover over his lips. He was about to ask about school, mention that they usually only fooled around when it had something to do with his grades, but he decided against it. She was here, wanting him, offering up her body to him. In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered if she was having a similar type of arrangement with Ben, but from the cold reception and snarky comments the younger guy was throwing her way, he figured he had gotten the better end of the deal.

His eyes looking at her up and down, fingers playing with the zipper of her skirt as she pushed his shirt up and over his head. She lightly tugged on his hands, steering him towards the couch and climbing on top of him when they finally landed.

Paxton was tracing the outline of her jean skirt with his fingers, dipping in and out of her inner thighs and her breath hitched. “Do you this could count as my PE credit?”

“It does burn a shit ton of calories.” Paxton smirked in reply, moving a piece of hair behind her ear as he kissed any exposed skin he could find and peeled off her tank top. “I’ll write you a note.” Was the only response that he was able to form before flipping them over so she was wiggling underneath him.

Her name vibrated against her own ear as he came, sweat sticking to their bodies as he slumped against her. He moaned her name in a way that felt like the first time anyone had ever uttered it. She had never heard it sound so beautiful. The tension and anxiety she had been feeling earlier in the evening was gone, replaced with a warmth that spread all throughout her body.

“I should probably go.” She had checked her phone to see it had blown up with text messages and calls from Eleanor and Aneesa, asking where she was and telling her she needed to come back before her mother woke up. She slid her clothes back on with ease, unlocking her phone to see the full extent of the damage. Paxton only nodded in response as he slipped his boxers back on and stood up.

“This is what you look like in the morning, after sex might I add?” She gawked, eyes hungrily scanning over his shirtless form.

“Guess so.” He grinned, he couldn’t help his looks anymore than Devi could help the fact that she was naturally good at embarrassing herself at parties.

“Not fair.”

“It looks pretty badass by the way.” Paxton complimented, biting his lip as he walked them towards the door. “The nose ring.”

“Thanks.”

“And thank you for the study help today. Or is it yesterday since it’s technically now tomorrow?” A look of confusion set in as Devi let a soft laugh bubble.

“Thanks for the orgasms.” And before Paxton could search his brain for a reply, Devi had hurried out the door and didn’t even look back to see if he was staring at her retreating form.

He totally was.

#daxton fic #daxton #daxton fanfic #never have i ever #nhie #paxton x devi #devi x paxton #heatwavefic #heatwave

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