#so the first one could be with knives as the guilty man but the second is interesting too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

osaemu · 3 months

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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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thatswhatsushesaid · 26 days

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get 2 know me meme

tagged by @cryptidafter 🫡

tagging: whoever feels like doing this, but also @watertightvines @ratheralark @needsmoreresearch @chaos0pikachu @skalidris @thepurplewombat @evilhasnever

Do you make your bed?

yep! not like super neatly or whatever but it gets remade every morning to prevent the cats from causing problems.

What’s your favorite number?

seven--just like prev! dunno why exactly, i just vibe with it.

What is your job?

i'm an overworked government bureaucrat, which maybe explains why i think jin guangyao should get to murder whomever he wants.

If you could go back to school, would you?

nooooope. i've got my masters and that is more than enough for me. i've actually told my husband that if i start making any serious noises about going back to school, he has my permission to yell at me.

Can you parallel park?

y... yes. in that once i am parked, i am sure that my car is parallel to something, somewhere.

A job you had that would surprise people?

i'm genuinely not sure any of my day jobs are that exciting lol. uhhh i designed and administered sharepoint online websites for a major canadian university for a while and hated every second of it despite making bank while i did it. god i hate sharepoint so much.

Do you think aliens are real?

i think it's way more unlikely that we're totally alone in the universe.

Can you drive a manual car?

nope, never learned how to drive stick shift unfortunately.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

i'm not sure i feel guilty about it exactly but i do enjoy rewatching gilmore girls while very high.

Tattoos?

just the one, which will be a week old as of tomorrow 👀 it's a stylized rendering of the solar eclipse! my husband and the man of honour at our wedding also got matching tattoos, so it's a very sentimental tattoo for me.

Favorite color?

i'm a jewel tones kind of bitch, so deep forest green, burgundy, etc,

Favorite type of music?

i like a little bit of everything tbh but i mostly listen to grunge and bluegrass.

Do you like puzzles?

no 😤 they stress me out lol

Any phobias?

several, and broadcasting what they are on a public platform like this while knowing i have at least two hatefollowers sounds like a very bad idea.

Favorite childhood sport?

horse-riding! i also took dance and played soccer but riding horses was the most fun. also the cheapest since i just went down to our neighbour's farm and rode her horses lol

Do you talk to yourself?

oh yes.

What movies do you adore?

god, okay, this is hard: the LOTR extended editions, the OG star wars trilogy, OG jurassic park, saved!, batman: the dark knight, captain america: the winter soldier, inception, sunshine, 1408, knives out, parasite, leon the professional, anything directed by hayao miyazaki, anything directed by guillermo del toro (except for the shape of water, which i can't watch because of the scene with the cat)--i'm sure i'm forgetting something.

Coffee or tea?

can't start my day without a cup of tea 👍

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

i wanted to be a veterinarian! but i also wanted to be an astronaut just as badly because i figured even aliens probably have pets, and someone has to look after them.

#ray.txt

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malikairose · 2 years

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Accidents| Five x GN!reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood and possible gore?

Summary: Your brother Diego is your closest friend; you sensed that he had been paranoid every since escaping the mental hospital and you decided to check on him. When he accidentally stabs your shoulder and Five finds out a whole bunch of comfort and yelling arrives.

(You were the Eighth Hargreeve sibling. Your abilities include immortality and pyrokenesis.)

———————————————————————

You quietly hummed along to the music playing through your headphones as you quickly walked down the street. You had just stopped at a small coffee shop to grab a black coffee and a frosted cream donut; Diego’s favorites.

You’re brother Diego had been extra paranoid lately, You had ignored at first, figuring he may have just been a bit shook since he had been a mental hospital for God knows how long, but a week has passed and it just seems to be getting worse. So, you decide you’ll pay him a visit.

Arriving at the room Diego was staying in, you open the door. Looking back at it, you probably shouldn’t have just barged into the room of a paranoid man who slept with knives and was blessed with perfect aim, but it’s too late now. You’re immediately met with a sharp pain in your shoulder and a less painful sting in your cheek. You let out a quite scream at not only the shock of being met with knives but also the pain surging through your body.

“Y/N? Shit!” Diego comes rushing over to you. Hs didn’t know it was you who entered the room or he wouldn’t have thrown the knives, he feels so guilty for hurting you as he examines the knife in your should and the cut on your cheek; he assumes it was from the second knife resting calmly in the wall.

“This is what I get for deciding to check in on you.” You sigh, slightly groaning in pain as Diego moves you towards his bed.

Since you are immortal, wounds usually close up pretty quick depending on the size. They used to close up much faster when you were little since your father would also force Diego to throw knives at you and see how long you could close them. That was how you too became so close, Diego’s guilt leading to him feeling a constant need to be around you to ensure you don’t hate him. It’s quite fucked up to be honest. Anyway, the pain for the injuries will stay until the regular time the injury would have resided but the injury itself would close up in less than a day only leaving a few wrinkles from the scar (unless it’s like a tiny cut like the one on your cheek).

Diego removes the knife, wincing slightly at your half scream half sob.

After calming down and getting used to the pain, you turn to Diego already sensing his guilt.

“First off, I got you a coffee and donut. Eat up while it’s still somewhat warm. Secondly, I’m alright. It’s not your fault, I came by because I sensed you have been extra paranoid lately and wanted to check in on you. I should have knocked, especially since you’ve been paranoid. Don’t blame yourself, I’m fine. I’m immortal.”

Diego nods slightly, “Still, I’m sorry. I know you’re still going to be in pain for a while.”

“Nothing I haven’t felt before.” You give him a reassuring smile. You change the subject and the two of you spend an hour talking about why Diego has been so paranoid lately and how you can help him.

The hour passes and you decide you should go over to yours and Five’s room. It’s a bit father away from everyone else’s rooms. Well, as separate as it can be. Our room is a hidden one downstairs. You lightly knock on the door to let Five know you’re there before entering.

“Y/N, my love! Where have you been?” He hadn’t known that you had been upstairs since he has been locked away in the room trying to figure out an escape back to 2019.

“I was upstairs talking to Diego. He’s been extra paranoid lately.” You reply.

Five walks over two you and hugs you, wanting to relax for the first time all day. All thoughts of his relaxation disappear though, when he sees your small wince of pain at his arms touching your shoulder. He also feels the way the shirt has the feel of half dry half fresh blood lingering on it’s fabric. Quickly he turns you around and moves your shirt to see the stab wound; it had barely healed since it had only been an hour, unlike the wound on your cheek which was fully healed.

“Fuck, love. What the hell happ-“ he cuts himself off after he realizes what had to have happened. You said you visited Diego and that he’s been extra paranoid. “Diego did this?”

Noticing Five’s hardened expression you quickly try to calm him, “Five, love, he didn’t mean to. I entered his room without knocking, I was being stupid. Please sit down.”

He ignored you as he exits the room in a blue flash, leading to you running out of the room and up the stairs towards Diego’s room, wincing in pain every few seconds.

“DON’T YOU EVER HURT THEM !” You hear Five shout. Luther, Viktor, Elliot, and Lila all come rushing into the space before Diego’s room.

The boys burst out of his room, Five is full on fighting Diego physically now, shouting every so often. Everyone is trying to stop them but Five is too lost in his anger.

Finally having had enough, you conjure up a ball of fire the size of a golfball into your hand and throw it at the wall behind Five.

“ENOUGH! Five, I’m fine. Please, calm down.”

“Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??” He softens slightly when he sees you flinch slightly at his yelling, “My love, you should be resting.”

“I can’t let you kill my best friend!” You say, walking over to Diego. His face is blooding and he looks like he got much more injured than Five, who only has a bloody nose and a cut lip. “Five, it was an accident, let it go. Please?”

He can’t say know to you, “Fine. If this happens again, I’m not lying when I saw you will never see the light of day again.”

You both walk off as you go back to your room, five helps to reckless your wound and you help with his cut lip and bloodied nose.

Sorry it’s a bit bad.

#five hargreeves #umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #umbrella academy season two #hurt/comfort #tw: violence #tw:blood #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x GN!reader #Malikai’s gaybies

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clatoera · 10 months

Text

Always Remember We’re Burned For Better Chapter 13(!!!): Don’t Blame Me (Love Made Me Crazy)

...well here we are! Happy SN TV day!! and the 13th Chapter!! I’m aligning spiritually with my god (t swift) rn. (this was posted today on purpose).

Alright so. We have entered the final book so to speak. We are in the war. Now the war is exactly what this fic was always going to be about. And as such the chapters are smaller (4500 rather than 7500) as the war is raging outside and each chapter is less events. Think of it more as a typical fic from here on out, where less happens per chapter, because this is quite literally what the meat of the fic is supposed to be. The war is not one chapter, the war will be many. Cato is unhinged. Glimmer is going mad. The next like..brick of chapters is essentially all set to Don’t Blame Me because like... welcome to the war💜

Major major trigger warning as there is blatant self harming tendencies here.

AO3

Masterpost

Title from T swizzle of course

As always this is for my bestie and my loves on this site, who literally never make me shut up and I owe my whole life @ohhowwehavefallen and @afterfawn (and we’ll add @clovecato this time because she will appreciate the SN TV release date for ch 13 and a couple other TS references in the text this time)

Things are going to be different. We have less shippy moments ahead for a few chapters. This portion is about desperation and the loss of love and the lengths one will go for someone they love and to protect them.

“Kill him Cato.” One blonde ex-victor hisses to the other, the girl tightening the frighteningly deep grip of her nails on the neck of one of her fellow victors. With Finnick on the floor she’s got her hand on the throat of Beetee, watching with frantic eyes as Cato’s arm slips tighter around Plutarch Heavensbee’s neck.

And oh, Cato is close. Neither of them asked for whatever the fuck this is–wherever the fuck it is, actually– and neither of them would have done it had they had even the slightest choice.

Victors, losing their ability to make their own choices yet again, as if anyone is really shocked.

“You’re going to take us back for them right fucking now.” Cato warns, dragging Plutarch by the throat, not even flinching for a second at the hands clawing at the bulk of his arm. “You’re going to turn this freak show the fuck around.”

“We can’t do that–” The man in Glimmer’s grasp gasps out, only resulting in her tightened grip on his flesh.

“Ohhhh we can do that.” Cato insists, a laugh that can only be described as unhinged slipping out from him. His other hand finds the top of Plutarch’s head, holding head cocked and ready to snap in an instant. “We’re going to do that.”

Glimmer flashes him a look, the look of a mad woman, not angry but mad in the way only a woman who has been ripped away from her loved ones, upended in a strange place far without her consent could be. He knows, then, that if he makes the first move she will follow. If he flicks his wrist to decapitate someone internally she will dig her claw like nails into a neck and exsanguinate the man in her grasp.

They took them. They took them against any wish they might have had, and as a result left them looking guilty. They let them look like criminals themselves, like traitors, treasonous traitors.

It wasn’t even about the two of them now, though, no. They knew they wanted nothing to do with this.

It was for Clove, it was for Marvel, who would be seen as treasonous traitors, too. Suspected traitors who were left behind.

“You know the thing about us,” Glimmer purrs– no, not purrs, hisses like a snake in the grass, about to attack without more than a seconds notice– “Sure, you can keep knives or swords or spears away from us.. But we don’t need any of that.” She digs in and blood pools around the edges of her long nails, seeping out from the flesh of the other past victor. “Look at Cato. You think he needs a weapon to kill you? And God I know that i’ve been waiting years to tear a man’s throat open..”

“You do that and it’s a one way ticket to ensure you never see those other two again.” A new voice rings out, causing Cato and Glimmer both to snap their attention towards the shadowed doorway. Despite the intrusion Cato does not loosen his grip, Plutarch Heavensbee turning all shades of maroon and indigo in his chokehold.

“How did you make the cut?” Glimmer snarls, backing up so that her back was secure against a wall and she could not easily be snuck up on, those arena instincts still flooding through her circulatory system like a hunted animal (which, really, wasn’t she anyway). “Bribe them with a lifetime supply of scotch?”

Haymitch Abernathy comes into view, giving slow claps with his hands. “I knew you two would be trouble, believe me, I did not advocate for your rescue.”

“Oh, rescue, that’s what you call this?” Cato nearly growls, following Glimmer’s motion to protect his back from the unknown.

“Compared to the alternative, yes, this is a rescue. You’re welcome.” Haymitch glances between the two feral careers, who share pupils that are blown wide, dark and never ending as a product of their anxieties and adrenaline. “The smart thing to do here would be let them go..”

“The smart thing would have been taking all four of us-” Glimmer taunts, pressing in deeper with the tip of her french manicure, reveling in the choking sound coming from Beetee as a result.

“You especially should be thanking us Glitter-”

“That’s not my fucking name!”

“Whatever, Shimmer Sparkle Shine, the point stands that you should be thanking us. You don’t think your little commentary was going to have you on a hit list? If you had been left behind I can promise you’d be dead– or begging to be, soon.” Haymitch plays his luck, stepping closer to Glimmer than Cato, hands up in surrender and defense.

“So you left them, what, to punish us? So he can be killed in my place, for the crime of loving me after all they did?”

“There was no selection process, sweetheart. You two were simply closer to the one we wanted. We thought you’d be useful, and we brought you too.” Haymitch does not go to grab Glimmer– doing so would certainly be an act of war against what remained of this career alliance, and would without a doubt result in the death of the mastermind of the revolution at the hands of loose cannon Cato Hadley.

“The one you wanted, who’s–” Cato starts only to be interrupted again by the high pitch wails of a girl.

“You liar!” Katniss Everdeen screams, launching herself full force at her past mentor. While he catches her by the wrist the ensuing power struggle catches both Cato and Glimmer off guard.

For a minute it felt as if they were on the same team, and if she took out Haymitch Abernathy they could get the others. She has something in her hands, that she’s trying terribly hard to lodge into the neck of Haymitch, and he can’t help but think that if she had been one of them she’d have succeeded by now. She could take Haymitch, Glimmer had Beetee, and Plutarch was as good as gone the minute he decided. They could do it.

She is screaming something absolutely incoherent, at least to Cato who feels like all of his senses are suddenly dull. This is not the instinct of a career in the arena, no. For a fleeting moment he wonders if this is how a prey animal feels, as every nerve in his body desperately screams for him to find Clove.

Clove.

Clove who is gone because of her.

“They left Peeta, too!” The blonde woman recognizes, piecing together phrases from the ensuing fight between Katniss and Haymitch, throwing back her head in an almost witch-like laugh, something more akin to a cackle than the high pitched sweetness she is so known for. “Of course they won’t go back for ours, they left Loverboy too! Come on Katniss, put on a good show for us, pretend you know how we feel!”

Katniss Everdeen and her stupid, unbelievable love story. With her pins and her gifts and her outright disregard for all things Panem.

It was her fault, really.

Cato sees red. Red like the dress Clove wore when she won her first games, red like the wine the night before the quell, red like the shared favorite crimson hue of him and his wife, and above all else red like the blood he is going to choke out of the Girl on Fire’s eyes. Blinded by a sea of red behind his eyes, he tosses the game maker to the ground, ignoring the choking gasps he lets out. He can vaguely hear Glimmer frantically say ‘cato, no’ in the background, as she realizes he dropped the other major leverage they had.

His right hand wraps around the throat of Katniss Everdeen in an instant, lifting her light frame from the ground and slamming her skull against a metal beam directly behind Haymitch’s left shoulder.

“It’s all your fucking fault!” He absolutely snarls, dangling her a solid foot off the ground as he crushes his palm against her airway. “It’s all your fault, you couldn’t just fucking die. Or better, be a Victor and be grateful” Cato smacks her head off the wall again, feeling how her desperate claws at his hand are already getting weaker and weaker. “At the very fucking least, i’m not letting you slip away again, Fire girl.”

“Grateful? Kids are dying, people are dying! Open your eyes!” Haymitch defends, trying to wrench Cato off of her to no avail, waving someone over that Cato cannot identify from his peripheral vision. “Is this really the life you want?” Haymitch directs towards Glimmer this time, “I know you don’t want to continue on like you were, you know there’s nothing to be grateful for.”

The sudden grasp of a firm hand on his arm throws Cato off, and when he turns his upper body he is faced with the slightly smaller stature of some boy he’s never seen, who looks a little too much like Kantiss to not be related. She was the oldest sister that he knew, so a male cousin maybe?

“Get off of her,” The boy threatens, and he at least distracts Cato long enough that he loosens his grip so Katniss can fall and scamper off. She collapses to the floor, grasping at her neck and gasping for air. “Noone wanted you one and two psychopaths here anyway,”

“Gale that is enough,” Haymitch warns, stepping forward to evaluate Katniss as if she had not tried to claw his eyes out only moments prior. “You’re not helping by–”

“We’ve already got this capitol whore- everyone sees the way you show off.” He directed towards Glimmer with a half thought nod of his head. “I’m glad the little psycho bitch isn’t here too. She’d be a waste of valuable food and air, I hope they kill her for us–”

What happens next is a flurry of events, the order of which is lost on Cato and Glimmer both.

Cato’s fist makes contact with Gale Hawthorne’s nose with a satisfying crunch, and before he can get a retaliation shot in, a second fist comes in contact with Gale’s jawline. The blow takes him down, and when his head hits the concrete floor it makes a satisfying crack, the man entirely unconscious even as Cato goes in repeatedly with punches, over and over until even the sound of his breathing gurgles with blood. It vaguely reminds him of his win in his games, all those years ago, though the motivation is very different. While the last time he had wanted to go home to her– how he just wanted to punish everyone who left her behind.

Cato can vaguely hear Glimmer egging him on, cheering on him to kill the man, to make him pay, before the tone of her voice becomes a frantic, warning yell of “Cato watch OUT!”

Something pinches his arm and the world shifts into a blurry hue of bodies and metal. The last thing he sees is his favorite shade of blood– not of Katniss Everdeen, but of her kin nonetheless.

Cato’s world goes dark and when he hears a yelp from Glimmer he knows they’ve gotten her, too.

The first thing he notices is that he can’t move his hands. Well, not more than a few inches. The metal around both wrists secures him down, and when he tries to lift himself to a sitting position he realizes exactly how hard that is with his current restraints not only on his wrists but on his hips as well. His eyes fly open and he quickly absorbs the sterile white energy of the room, which is directly offset by the metal clanging on the bed. Somewhere between a hospital room and a jail cell, that's what this had to be.

The sound of scratching combined with the clanging metal tells him that, fuck, he isn’t alone. His senses must still be dulled if he didnt think to look for any other dangers in the room- clearly, whatever they gave them, worked its magic.

The scratching, though, is not the sound of a rodent working on a corpse or an animal scratching to escape, when he finally cranes his neck, he catches a familiar head with blonde pigtails.

Oh, it’s just Glimmer.

But it isn’t just Glimmer, happy, shining, golden girl Glimmer.

He’s a career, he’s seen plenty of horrific things in years of games reruns, he’s seen plenty of mutilation.

What Cato is not expecting is to see Glimmer cross legged in bed, hunched over with thick rivulets of blood streaming from open scratches along her forearms. What he is even more surprised to see, is the way she is repeatedly digging her nails into her own arms, over and over, heavy handed scratches adding to the gashes in her arm.

“What are you–” In horror, he starts, as for all he’s seen victors hurt each other, he’s never seen someone so blatantly hurt themselves.

“I can’t help it.” Glimmer half explains, scratching in her arms as if she has the most severe bug bite in the world, an itch so deep she has to carve it out from her very bones. “I can’t stop.”

Cato stares, eyes comically wide in horror at the absolute mutilation Glimmer works into her otherwise flawless skin. “That has to hurt, Glimmer.”

“That’s the point.” She whispers, before grasping her bloodied wrist and using her own blood as enough lubrication to slip the offending metal ring over one wrist. “They usually get rid of the scars,” they being the Capitol and the source of her usual severe abuse and resulting anxieties. “I can’t help it..I can’t stop.”

Cato can’t tear his eyes away when she slips through the handcuffs, using her own blood as a mechanism to do so. “How are you–”

“You think this is the first time someone’s left me handcuffed in my own blood, Cato?” Glimmer reminds, before flinching and forcing the other one down over her wrist, immediately grasping at her dually freed wrists. “It hurts like hell, but it works.”

Glimmer hops off her bed, and Cato gets a good look at her for the first time since their ‘rescue’ from the Arena.

Her blonde hair is in the same half braid half ponytails as in the arena, but now frizzed and blood matted. The blood that runs from her arms is not confined to her hands, but instead covers the bed sheets and the skin of her face. She’s been changed into a gray cotton pajama-esk set that reminds Cato of something in a textbook about a psychiatric ward. Even that is soaked through with deep maroon blood, making her look all the more like a walking corpse. This is not the Glimmer the world knows, this desperate, bloodied girl. Of course, this may be the Glimmer plenty of capitolites have left behind.

Glimmer settles herself on the edge of the bed, and grabs him by the wrist, noting how her hand cannot even close all the way around. “Your hands are much bigger than mine, I'm not sure if it’ll work.” She warns, before she starts milking blood from her arm right onto his. “I know you aren’t afraid of a little blood on your hands.” She tells him before she braces his arm with one hand and the metal with the other. “I’m only trying once, you’re useless to us both if I break your wrist– actually, give me your non-dominant hand.” She braces the handcuff again and squints her eyes at him. “Don’t be a big baby–”

“Why would I be a- What the FUCK” Cato yells, trying to retract his hand so he can hold it to his chest. In a pleasant surprise, he realizes he can and that Glimmer successfully broke him out of the restraining item. “How did you–”

“LIke i said, not a stranger to handcuffs and blood.” She holds up her hands for him to give her the other, and with the same bracing strategy, she frees his other hand with less of a shock to his system.

Cato twists his freed hands, loosening the stiffened ligaments with loose circles of his wrist. “...what have they done to you, Glimmer?”

“Enough that I'd rather be dead than go back. I don’t know what the fuck is going on but.. I’m not sure they can do anything worse to me here.”

Cato’s chest tightens when the depth of that settles in. He gives a small nod but can’t stop the flurry in his mind. Clove is there. Clove is there. Clove is there.

“What the fuck’s happening?” He leans forward, loosening the leather around his ankles and realizing he is in the same psych ward uniform as Glimmer, now with matching blood stains. “Where are we?”

“District Thirteen is what I keep hearing.” She offers half heartedly, now finally wiping at the blood in her arms to try to make it stop now that she has no more use for it. “That can’t be right. But, I guess there's some big plan. Overthrow the government. My guess is firegirl is going to be their fearless leader. They were all in on it. Finnick..Jo..that's why they refused us, if I had to guess.”

He scoffs, remembering the frightened, screaming girl he had left gasping on the floor. ��Yeah, she’s a great leader of the new world alright.” Cato swallows the stuck feeling in his throat, and he can’t resist any longer. “...and they’re left behind?” Cato confirms what they already know, reiterating Glimmer’s meltdown not long ago.

“And since we’re here..we may as well be Finnick or Katniss or Johanna, in their eyes…” Glimmer nods, holding her arms closer to her body to put pressure on her shredded veins. In barely above a whisper, and without raising her eyes to look at him, she allows herself to ask her biggest fear. “...do you think they’re alive?”

“Stop. They have to be.” Cato snaps, before ripping at the bed sheet underneath him, turning it into a long white strip. “We can’t say anything different. They have to be alive. We’re loved in the Captiol, we’re adored…they won’t hurt them. ”

“What do you think they’re doing to them, Cato, I know what they’ve done to me, and they loved me too–”

“Stop, Glimmer. All we can do is hope they are alive or they let them go. I gave my entire life to being the perfect victor, and the perfect tribute. That has to be worth something.” He takes the long cotton strip and rips it again in two, before taking Glimmer by the elbow and beginning to wrap down her arm. The White sheet turns scarlet in an instant, but the blood does not seem to continue to leak out.

“They might be better off dead. I wouldn’t wish what’s been done to me on anyone..” Glimmer admits, letting him pressure-wrap her arms before letting both fall to her lap, as she now sits cross legged on his bed. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, you helped me, I help you.” He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, before glancing around the room. “They can’t be dead. We can’t think like that, because then what do we have? We just..have to go get them back and then we get the hell out of here and go home and show that we don’t support this–”

“I’m not sure we really have a home to go back to.” Glimmer admits, rocking just a little now that her arms are no longer scratchable. “I can’t go back to one, not after what I said.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong–”

“You don’t speak against the hand that feeds you, Cato, even if it’s also the one that beats you.” She blinks back something that can only be tears, as she looks up to the ceiling. “And maybe..maybe I don’t want to support the Capitol.”

Glimmer hears the door creak open, and both of them react like the wounded animals they are. Cato cracks his neck, primed and ready for a fight with clenched fists, while she uncurls her own hands to give her full use of her jagged nails.

“I was told you two were going to be restrained.” Haymitch announces, strutting into the room with his hands up in defense. “I just want to talk.” He waves off someone coming in behind him– guards, maybe? “Just the three of us.”

“Oh great, just who I want to see.” Glimmer scoffs, jumping onto her feet to run if she needed to, to climb, to hide.

“They wanted to send in Finnick, but he’s still recovering from Glimmer’s little antics.” Haymitch explains, sitting on Glimmer’s empty, bloodied bed. “Did you maim yourself?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Cato snaps, and if Glimmer weren’t between them, he’d likely lunge at this man, too. “Why would you care if she did,”

“Because, if you play along, we can all be on the same team here.” He offers, leaning back on his hands. “You remember all that stuff, Victors working together for each other–”

“Yeah, thats long over when you left my–”

“We work together now.” Haymitch interrupts Cato before it can become a whole outburst. “You two, Finnick, and Katniss are here. The majority of the work falls to Katniss, she’s who we need to lead this thing.”

“You want us to show our support for Everdeen?” Glimmer rolls her eyes, and takes a step towards Haymitch. “Go out there and say that we love this silly little revolution and guarantee that Marvel and Clove end up dead before the broadcast cuts? Are you stupid? Do you think WE are stupid?”

“We’re NEVER going to agree to–”

“Let me finish. You four are here. Johanna, Peeta, Clove, and Marvel got left behind. It wasn’t the plan. But that's what happened. The Capitol went into Four and got Annie Cresta too. All of you, here, have the exact same thing on the line.” Haymitch holds up a hand to prevent them from interrupting. “Before you ask, no. We do not know where Enobaria and Brutus and Cashmere and Gloss are. Cato, I looked into your sister, too, and as far as we can tell she is safe in two. So no. I can’t say if everyone you love is safe or not. But there is an opportunity here. There is a life after this war that you can have. Glimmer. You can avoid the horrible things they’ve done to you. You can have anything you ever wanted that I know you and your siblings have given up. Cato..well, I’m not sure a life without games appeals to you, but it will at least be a life with her.”

Glimmer falls into the bed, immediate guilt flooding her when she realizes she has not yet asked about her siblings. Cato must feel the same, for any sun bronzed skin of his face goes ghostly pale at the mention of his baby sister. Noone considered that they, too, could be in danger. Noone considered that the people back home would be hunted down, though Annie Cresta proves that to be the case indeed.

There’s something about it, though, for Glimmer. The thought, the offer, the chance, at a life after the games where no one can get to her again. She would be lying to say otherwise.

“My advice? Lay low. Stop going kamikaze on everyone you see. You aren’t going to be a symbol, no. That’s on Katniss. You two just..lay low. Stop losing your minds. The president down here doesn’t really want you here, but frankly, we are your best shot at getting Clove and Marvel home to you both. Lay low. Stop making a scene. Stick to yourselves.” Haymitch suggests, looking at the two bloodied victors, with bruising wrists and the look of murder in the back of their eyes. “And please, leave Katniss alone. She lost Peeta today, too.”

“Oh yeah, sure, and where is the actress of the year? Getting ready to start her mourning performance? Does she have a death veil on?” Glimmer snarks, but does not make any move to actually go at the elder man again.

“Katniss is in District Twelve–”

“Oh so she got to go home?” Cato starts, but is immediately cut off.

“There IS no District Twelve! It’s ash! It’s rubble. She’s walking over the bodies of the people she grew up with. This isn’t a little game, you two. This is a war now!”

An announcement overhead leaves Haymitch staring at two dumbstruck faces, a look of fear in both of their features. He gives a heavy sigh and stands. “I have to go, strategy meeting and all. But please. Heed my advice. Just..keep your heads down.”

He slips out the room without so much as a goodbye, leaving two terrified, dumbfounded victors in his wake.

Glimmer chokes out a response first, body frozen as she processes it all. “...they took out a whole district?”

“A lower level district–” Cato offers as a comfort, though he knows it is moot. One could go as easily as twelve, though maybe two was protected by the sheer value of their product, weaponry. Though maybe they were making human weapons, too, in the form of twelve year old killers.

“......what are we going to do, Cato?” Glimmer turns to him, tears shining in the brink of her spring colored eyes, looking a little bit like a spring storm forming within her.

“Whatever we have to. To keep them alive. To get them home.” He offers, though with the way his shoulders fall, it is not an easy decision on him. “We just get them home.”

He’s staring off, letting the reality of this day set in. A war. He got dragged into a war with Clove left on the other side. He’s brought back by a soft sniffle from Glimmer, and when he looks to her, he sees the tears streaming down her face.

“I miss him, Cato.” She cries out, before burying her eyes into her hands, the burning sting of tears in her wounds making her cry even harder.

“I miss her, too, Glimmer.” He agrees, and he looks away from her as he feels that rage mounting in his chest at her abandonment. He wasn’t good at playing fair, at playing along with what others wanted when it was outside the context of the games and training. Noone told him how to behave, how to act.

“I don’t want to do this without them.” Glimmer admits, pulling her knees up closer to her chest.

As much as Cato wants to offer words of rebuttal, that they will never have to do this without them, that they will be back together soon, he can’t bring himself to lie to her. To lie to himself.

He offers no words of comfort as the war outside the walls bleeds directly into their hearts.

#clato fanfic #arwbfb tag #always remember we're burned for better tag #cato and clove fanfic #thg fanfic #This is glimmer heavy this time #and cato #glim glam and cato against the world #my unhinged man and my mad woman

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nightmarecountry-a · 1 year

Note

This night, he called Corinth to him, uncharacteristically quiet. The playfulness was forced. He wasn’t fighting the nightmare like he usually did: too squeamish to handle looking in the mirror, resisting the script to tempt Corinth into following Mieczysław’s desires. This time he was solemn and quiet, taking it. When The Corinthian seemed to stray, the dreamer shook his head.

“I need you to show me the mirror tonight.”

No-one asks for the Corinthian: he simply happens to them, whether they want him to or not, no matter how calm they make their minds before bed or which gods they pray to to never have to see the Smiling Man again. But Mieczysław has been given a gift others have not, and when he calls, the Corinthian heels.

It's unusual for Mieczysław not to fight him; not to resist the creeping dark and cold prickle of fear that seeps into every crack of the dream. The Corinthian will be slaked either way, but he has something specific in mind, something Miecz will enjoy too, and it surprises him when that isn't what Mieczysław wants. When he asks for the dark mirror, and not the blood-sweet distractions.

Cold fingertips brush just under Miecz's eye socket, considering. He could end this quickly: ricochet Miecz from one terror into another until his heart beats so fast he has to wake up. He could be brutal, a blunt weapon instead of a surgical instrument. The louder the fear the sweeter the eyes.

But the Corinthian was made to serve, and for Mieczysław to see himself truly reflected, he needs a finer hand. A slow, methodical delve into the darkest parts of himself, all the things he can't bear to look at. The nightmare knows which part is haunting him most loudly tonight: his hypocrisy, his belief that rules do not apply to him. His principles and the lines he's crossed, lines he never saw himself crossing, things that make him feel guilty and ashamed when he looks at them too long.

He taps his finger against Miecz's cheekbone, and withdraws from him. Slowly, the dreamscape shifts: the first Corinthian murder site Miecz ever investigated. The second withdraws; turns lean and hungry; sharpens his smile and his knives.

"Let's start at the beginning."

#ic.#v: the remake #zloslwy #[ screams very quietly.]

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careshub · 1 year

Text

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑫

the ground, that’s the dream. this is reality. reality sucks.

tws: mentions of alcoholism, mentions of drug addiction, blood, gore, murder, torture

basics.

aliases: care, blondie, prisoner 307, karolin kom skaikru, karolin kom speiskru

age: 17 - 23 (physically), 149 (biologically)

date of birth: october 10, 2131

parents: elizabeth ‘liz’ forbes (deceased, s4) and william ‘bill’ forbes (deceased, s1)

crime: caught with painkillers hidden under her pillow during a random room inspection

skills: distraction, guns, knives, archery

affiliation: ark (formerly), delinquents (formerly), skaikru (formerly), speiskru (currently)

guard elizabeth and councilman bill forbes’s marriage was far from perfect. maybe it had been at some point, but as years passed and they grew old in a glorified tin can floating in space, they also grew apart. the only thing that kept them together - other than the fact neither were interested in going through the long process of getting a divorce - was their daughter, caroline. with sparkling blue eyes, long blonde hair and a captivating smile, she had both of her parents wrapped around her finger ever since she came out of the womb. sure, she was a handful. pretty little girl from alpha station, whose parents worked important jobs and spoke to important people, caroline wasn’t the nicest girl on the ark. but she did love with all of her heart, and oh how did it hurt when her own parents broke it.

her life began spiraling out of control when her father began drinking. at first, it was barely noticeable. just an extra tint of pink on his cheeks or a dazed glint in his eyes. but it quickly was replaced by the stench of alcohol that seemed to stick to him like a second skin. his behavior changed, too. gone was the focused and well-opinionated member of the council, replaced by a man who arrived late to meetings, tripping over his own feet and nursing a flash without a hint of shame. about a week after this happened for the third time, bill got home and announced he was removed from the council. the very next day, his wife took his spot.

from then on, it only got worse. caroline saw too much of her drunk of a father, and too little of her workaholic mother. she threw herself into her studies and spent a lot of time with her friends, because being home was simply not an option. by being absent, she didn’t notice her father had developed a new addiction. so when, during an unscheduled room inspection, a guard pulled a bottle of painkillers from under her pillow, caroline couldn’t fathom how it’d ended up there in the first place. all she knew was that she wasn’t the one who stole and hid it. she kicked and cried as the guards all but dragged her out of the quarters, screaming that she was innocent and didn’t know who the pills belonged to, but her protests fell on deaf ears. she was thrown into a cold, dark cell and was forced to wait six months for her eighteenth birthday, when she’d be put on trail to see if she could be pardoned or not. she knew she wouldn’t be. the council was floating people from smaller crimes than stealing medication. she’d die in six months because she was guilty. guilty of a crime she didn’t commit.

what caroline didn’t know, however, was that during the time she spent in her tiny cell, her father - the one who hid the bottle under his own daughter’s pillow - tried to change chancellor jaha’s mind. he hoped he’d be able to sway his old friend into pardoning caroline. it worked... sort of. five days after bill’s last conversation with jaha and a little over a month before her eighteenth birthday, caroline was sent to earth with the delinquents.

season by season breakdown here

#verses.#the hundred.

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marvelandimagine · 3 years

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I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

#Bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #faws spoilers #faws #james bucky barnes #marvel #dora milaje #wakanda #Ayo #Steve Rogers #falcon and winter soldier spoilers #marvel fandom #I really went off on this one huh #fatws #fatws bucky #fatws ep 4 #fatws spoilers

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

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the knife

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Once a week, Bucky cleans and sharpens his knives, but this time, the easy task takes another path.

word count: 1.936 words. (i know, it's long, but it worth it).

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! knife!kink, sir!kink, praising!kink, foreplay (female receiving, use of a knife), language, mention of bodily fluid.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Who in their right mind wouldn’t feel hypnotized by the way Bucky has to dance a knife between his fingers?

Once a week it’s all he does during the day. Clean and sharpen his knives, after spending the whole morning training with them, while you can’t stop looking at him amazed. And horny. You feel like a slut, let’s be clear. You can’t help but imagine how good his hands make you feel whenever he touches you, whenever he grips your throat, whenever he pulls your hair. But, mostly, he’s too stupid to notice it. Even innocent you could say.

So, there you are, sitting on the sofa in front of him pretending to be reading a book, while his fingers grab a cloth with too much care to clean the blade of his favorite one. The one you got him for your first anniversary. A mini-machete with a black leather handle and golden ornaments all around it. When Bucky saw it for the first time, he fell in love.

As soon as he raises his oceanic eyes towards you, yours fall to the pages trying to hide the bunch of emotions within your chest and your lower belly. You can’t help but lick your lips clearing your throat, a gesture that makes him giggle putting down the machete over the table. In complete silence, Bucky stands up to stretch his arms to the ceiling, before leading his steps dangerously closer to you. Pressing your lips to contain a guilty laugh for being caught in action, you look at him through your eyelashes.

“You have something to tell me, doll?”

You shake your head swallowing greedily, about to choke on your own saliva.

“You sure?” He inquires then, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

Fucking grey sweatpants. This time, you nod with your head, whilst he is sitting by your side. Bucky grabs the book between your hands, tossing it above his shoulder to somewhere on the floor, without putting his eyes away from yours. You gulp again, starting to feel some difficulties to breathe staring at him placing his arm made of vibranium over your shoulders. There’s no gesture on his face when he raises his left hand to your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“C'mon... Tell me what you want”.

His lips brush yours, driving you insane and racing your heart, as his firm tone of voice slides itself between them. A shiver runs down your backbone, drying your throat as the heat floods your guts. But you can’t think of a single word to say. Bucky waits patiently a couple of seconds, nodding at the end as —for him— the game has started. He puckers his lips, about to get up from the sofa pulling his hands away from you. And you stop him. Of course you do. As soon as you can react. You grab his cold wrist to push him back, almost falling on top of you.

Bucky’s laugh fills the whole room, getting comfier between your legs while your fingers get tangled in his long brown hair. Using the tip of his tongue, he licks your lips at the same time he crashes his pelvis against your needed core. You can’t hold a loud and pleased moan, closing your eyes and hearing another laugh coming from his mouth.

“Last chance, doll. Do you have something to tell me?” The soldier grunts onto your lips.

“Just… touch me, please”. You’re almost sobbing so anxiously, when Bucky starts to rock his hips between your legs, creating a very satisfying friction.

“No, doll... We’re gonna try something new”.

Your eyes widen in surprise, curiosity, and confusion, touring the length of his metallic arm until reaching the long fingers grabbing the mini-machete you gave him. You gasp uncontrollably, while his other hand snakes up your thigh to find your panties under the baggy shirt you’re wearing. One of the shirts you usually steal from his wardrobe. Bucky brings the blade to his teeth, holding it there to sit up and help you to strip. In less than a blink, you are completely exposed to his attentive and lustful blue eyes.

You spread your legs for him without the needing of being asked for, showing him in all its glory your warm cunt shining in your arousal. Bucky would give his life for digging his hard and twitching dick in your pussy right now, but he has another plan. One that you are going to enjoy anyway. Leaning over you with the machete now back to his hand, his left forefinger goes straight to your folds; wetting it with your sweet juices in a soft stroke.

“Open your mouth”. He demands with such a raspy tone of voice, bringing the handle of his knife to your lips.

You welcome it in silence, delighted, hornier than ever. Twelve inches of leather that you suck and lick pleasantly for him. You cover it with your saliva, swirling your tongue around it as he marks the rhythm inside your mouth. Meanwhile, his index finger helps you to calm your anxiety, giving enough attention to your swollen clit. You can’t think, you can’t moan, you can’t breathe. You two haven’t started and you feel already that you could cum in less than a sigh. Bucky sees it in your eyes, and he can’t hide a petty smile growing on his face. He loves to tease you.

“Have you been feeling like this all day, uh?”

Pulling away the handle from your mouth, he drags it over your skin, down by your collarbone and the small space between your breasts. Slowly, too damn slowly. You don’t know how he can control himself this good when you’re about to cry. You need him so much. All the time. But days like these… You need him twice as much.

“Yes…” You just mumble weakly as the wet handle reaches your abdomen continuing his path down.

“Tell me what you want”.

“Put it inside me, please…”

“Please, what, uh?”

“Please, sir”.

You can see your boyfriend breathing through his parted lips, catching his air at the moment he watches you whimper when the leather slightly touches your clit. You are so beautiful for him —legs opened, hard nipples and begging.

Placing his flesh arm under your waist to raise a little your ass, Bucky plays with the handle up and down your slit, making a pressure that causes you to grunt annoyed. He giggles inevitably, sliding it slowly into your wetness, and you can’t help but arch your back pleased when the knife starts to stretch your walls so torturously and deliciously. When his cool fingers touch you provoking you a soft chill, and you feel it’s completely inside you, Bucky moves back his hand with the same slow pace.

He’s driving you crazy. He knows it pretty well. He doesn’t enjoy anything more than the fact of having you under his control, under his power. Gripping his warm hand around your throat, he makes himself some space by your side on the sofa. Now, his lips can touch yours, drink your delighted sobs, look at your eyes from closer.

“Do you like it, baby doll?”

“Yes… Yes, sir… I li— like it, sir”. You utter with a broken thread of voice, nodding with your head briefly.

“I know. I can feel it. You think I don’t notice…” He whispers in a hum, sticking his forehead to yours, tightening the grip around your neck. “But the truth is… I do it on purpose. I always make sure you look at me. Anyone else, but at me”.

Oh, there it is. These insecurities he always hides masterfully, but the ones that claim your attention the whole time. Bucky needs you too. You were the first person who didn’t treat him like an assassin, nor like a monster. He lives to make you happy. He can’t think about the idea of losing you one day, just because he doesn’t give you enough. But he is. He is more than enough. And you prove him every single day since you met him.

“Please, sir… I wa— want more… faster”. You plea against his lips, placing your arms around his, softly swinging your hips at the rhythm of the knife he’s using to fuck you.

“You want it faster, uh?” He repeats playfully, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek at the end.

“Please…”

And Bucky pleases you. The move of his wrist makes the pace increase a little. The handle goes somewhat deeper, carefully to not hurt you. He twists it making you moan, stir, bite your tongue. Bucky is well-aware of what you like and how you like it. And he wants to make you cream his mini-machete to remember that day whenever he uses it in a mission, far away from you.

A wet, dirty noise starts to make an appearance when the thrusts into your soaked cunt are more constant, just like your satisfied vocals echo the room. Bucky spreads kisses all over your face, keeping his fingers around your neck to keep you close.

“God… you’re such a good girl taking my knife this good”. Your boyfriend can’t help but purr onto your ear, feeling how he could cum in his sweatpants just by looking at you so damn needy for him. “And I swear… it’s not gonna be the only one… I’m gonna make you fuck all my knives, doll”.

Just imagining it, you feel the tickles concentrating in your lower belly. You feel your juices spilling down your buttocks and staining the sofa. This man is going to be the death for you. But if you have to die… Is there any other better way?

“C'mon… do your magic…” He encourages you, getting closer to your lips.

Bucky doesn’t give you the chance to moan in a reply, tucking his tongue into your mouth to devour it. The pushes to your g-spot become eager, harder, and well-aimed; wanting at all cost to make you cum. And as soon as he feels your legs shivering, he goes faster. You can’t control it. The orgasm is growing inside you easily as a forest is set on fire with a match. Crying out with his tongue invading your cavity and dominating yours, you tangle a hand on his hair arching your back as you find a new position that gives you some more pleasure. But you can’t hold it anymore.

Bucky is stealing your air by gripping your throat tighter, kissing you so impatiently, and you can’t hold it anymore.

The soldier swallows the loud howl that borns in the deepest place of your soul, feeling the explosion inside your stomach as you jump inevitably into the abyss of heat. But he doesn’t stop. He continues rocking the knife inside you, wanting to hear you a little more. Wanting to hear his full name mixed with your delighted whining and your growls. It’s never enough for you, nor for him. And now you want him inside you.

“Please… Please…” You cry pushing his metallic hand away from you, making him toss the soaked knife with your juices to the floor. “Please, sir… Fuck me… I beg you… I need your dick”.

“'Course you need it, my little angel… You need it all the damn time, don’t you?” He doesn’t sound angry, but his voice is rougher than ever.

He’s upset because you have forced him to pull out his mini-machete, but soon Bucky forgets it when he is buried deep inside your cunt. His cunt. Only his.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader

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walkerwords · 3 years

Text

"Share Your Burden" Daryl Dixon & Daughter!Reader

Request From Anonymous: "Your writing is the best! You probably have a lot of requests, but if you wouldn't mind I'd like to request some more dad Daryl fics where he basically adopts the reader. Those are just always so good. Not sure I have a specific story in mind, just more dad Daryl and Daughter reader in general please. You're the best! 💖"

Summary: The reader is like a daughter to Daryl. When she sees him taken by the saviors, she will get him back and keep him safe even if it means losing some of her humanity.

Word Count: 4933

Warning: Violence, Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Carry You" by Fleurie and Ruelle

Note: Figured considering our show is coming back this month, I should get some stories in, huh? There are parts in this that are lightly inspired by Ellie in TLOU2.

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It had taken every ounce of strength not to move as you watched the man known as Negan brutally murder two members of your family.

Abraham’s blood was ingrained into your mind and Maggie’s screams echoed through your skull like bats in a cave. You wanted to scream, cry, and launch yourself at your new enemy to save those who you loved but you remained in the shadows of the tree you had climbed and waited. The group known as the Saviors milled around the clearing as Negan hauled your leader into the RV and drove off.

From your vantage point, you could see Daryl fading as he stared at the bodies of his brothers. Blood was dripping down his arm from the gunshot wound he had sustained from the blonde man above him. Looking at the way the sneering man held Daryl’s bow made you so angry it was hard not to drop down and plunge a blade into his pale neck.

Carl was with Michonne, trying not to look anywhere but the enemies that surrounded them. Carl was your age and he was also the person who you trusted the most to keep it together in situations such as this. You pulled your strength from your friend’s resolve and continued to wait.

Maggie was getting worse and that was why you had ventured out of Alexandria in the first place. Spencer had spotted you heading for the gate when he had tried to stop you. Ignoring him as always, you pushed past him and began the trek to Hilltop. It was on that journey that you came across the first roadblock and so you followed it.

You had never imagined that it would have led to the gruesome scene below you. Your knuckles strained around the handles of your knives, a pair that Daryl had given to you himself when you had settled at the prison. It was only after Terminus that he began to properly train you to use them. Right then, they had never felt more useless.

Daryl was your protector and he was the closest thing you had to a father. He had found you running from Walkers when the group was settled on the Greene farm. You had been alone for weeks and from then on, it was the two of you.

Daryl had been the one to protect you from Shane’s scrutiny, the piercing gaze of the Governor, and the cannibals of Terminus. In turn, you became his shadow, having his back wherever he went, always ready to defend him while also learning everything you could. Now, you felt as powerless as he looked. It had been a long while since the group had been this broken-looking.

It was heartbreaking.

It wasn’t long before Negan returned with Rick and after almost making your leader cut his own son’s hand off. Negan ordered his men to leave not without making demands of your family and hauling Daryl along with him.

Staring after the caravan of murderers, you weighed what you were going to do next. A weight was heavy in your pack’s front packet and while you knew it was risky, a plan began to form. One that would either get you or Daryl killed or perhaps even both. Still, you had to try.

Dropping to the forest floor, you took one last look at your people through the trees before taking off in the opposite direction and towards the main road, pushing your legs as fast as they would go.

“Hold on, Daryl,” you whispered in between haggard breaths, “I’ll be there soon."

-----------

Daryl was in the back of the truck trying not to grimace every time the vehicle rolled over an uneven section of road.

Everything hurt and nothing felt right. He felt sick and above everything, he felt guilty.

The shock was still coursing through his veins as he heard Negan laughing in the cab upfront but he tried to tune it out as he thought of Glenn. It was instinct to go after Negan. Daryl hadn’t even thought about the repercussions that might happen as he got to his feet and charged the larger man.

It hadn’t occurred to Daryl to take a breath and think about what would happen next. They had never faced a menace like Negan before. Daryl thought he had seen the last of the bloodshed when they had escaped Terminus. At least, escaped the violence for a while before it caught back up to them again.

It wasn’t long till Daryl’s pain began to increase as the adrenaline wore off. Dwight was sitting across from him, holding his crossbow and Daryl wanted to strangle the man.

He had helped Dwight with Sherry and Tina. He had tried to keep Tina alive when he returned the insulin. Daryl couldn’t help but be enraged while looking at him, but he understood the betrayal in a way. He knew what people became in the new world and according to Dwight, Negan was the lesser evil of trying to survive on his own.

Daryl then only wondered what happened to Sherry.

They were going down another road as Daryl leaned to the left as the truck turned sharply. He blinked away the sudden twinge in his shoulder and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in discomfort. He wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction.

Suddenly, from the front of the cab, Negan shouted, causing Dwight to jump in his seat. “Shit!” Negan swore and then there was a flash of light, a loud bang, and then they were airborne. Daryl had barely a second to brace his hands on the roof of the truck before it slammed into the road, the metal exterior shredding sparks along the neglected asphalt.

Smoke and dust filled the air as Daryl tried to get his bearings. He could hear the muffled shouts of Negan and his men followed by a few gunshots but his ears were still ringing.

Across from him, Dwight was groaning in pain as blood dripped from his brow. His hands had let go of the bow and in a sudden surge of energy, Daryl dove for his loaded weapon.

Clutching his hands around the crossbow, Daryl scrambled for the back door, trying to get to his feet. A hand then circled around his ankle as Dwight realized what was happening. Turning around, Daryl blindly fired a bolt and it struck Dwight in the shoulder, mirroring Daryl’s own wound for good measure.

Dwight went down in pain and Daryl continued to move. As he fumbled for the door that was hanging half open due to the crash, he could hear yells of pain out in the warm air followed by the sound of someone choking as if they were drowning. Even half-aware of what was going on, Daryl could recognize the sound of someone choking on their own blood.

Daryl slammed his good shoulder against the broken door with a frustrated yell and finally felt the sun on his face. “Don’t kill her!” Daryl heard Negan scream. “Jesus fucking Christ, Arat!” Daryl tried to get back on his feet but everything was too bright and he was still trying to figure out what had happened and who Negan was talking about.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand around his arm that he seemed to snap back into his body. Aware that he hadn’t reloaded a new bolt into his bow, he swung his arm, trying to clip his assailant in the head with the bow. “Fuck! Daryl!” a familiar voice exclaimed to his right. The arm around him tightened as Daryl’s eyes finally focused on the person at his side.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed as he took in your face that was covered in blood and a wild look echoed from your eyes.

“We have to move,” you said earnestly. “Now!” Not questioning your demands, Daryl nodded and allowed you to take his bow as you grabbed for it. Slinging the bow onto your back, you grabbed the lighter Daryl had given you and he watched as you took a breath, no doubt sending some kind of prayer to the universe before you threw it into a pool of gasoline, igniting it and sending Saviors diving for cover.

Bullets flew by you as you hauled Daryl to the woods. “Don’t fucking shoot her! She’s a goddamn kid!” Negan screamed at his men.

Daryl leaned heavily on you as you dragged him towards the treeline. He didn’t hear much of what you said after that as his feet blindly followed you. “Negan,” Daryl choked out, trying to get you to understand.

“Leave him,” you said, trying to carry both of your weights. “Come on, Daryl, I can’t carry us both,” you pleaded, trying to get his mind to catch up with his body. It took another minute or so before the ringing subsided in his ears and the world got back into focus. Taking a few deep breaths, he got back into his normal gait and began speeding up his steps as he followed you through the woods.

You kept the crossbow on your back but he was soon able to walk on his own. “What did ya do?” Daryl asked as you stumbled down an embankment and carefully crossed a stream.

“What I had to to get you away from them,” you said as you helped him over the slippery rocks. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I need you to keep moving. There’s a town just through these trees, we can hide there for the night.”

“They’ll find us, (Y/N),” Daryl said as he pressed his hand against the bullet wound that was bleeding again. You looked at him, your eyes still wide from the fight.

“Then I’ll handle it,” you said. “It's my turn to keep you safe.”

-----------

The heat was horrid by the time you and Daryl arrived in the abandoned town.

Even with Daryl still in pain, you made the two of you circle back three times in order to cover your tracks. However, eventually, you knew he couldn’t take more before he finally keeled over. Keeping the crossbow loaded, you moved silently through the back alleys of the small town, looking for both Saviors and Walkers alike.

After the quarry horde had been redirected, the larger groups of the dead had been far and few between but that didn’t mean Walkers were gone altogether. Silently, you took down four Walkers before you found the destination you had in mind.

The old town library was something you and Sasha had found when you had accompanied her on a hunt one day. The latches on the doors still worked and it had enough blindspots inside to hide from the Living and the Dead.

You stood watch as Daryl wrestled with the doors. The Southern heat warped the frames a bit but eventually, Daryl was able to push one open and slip inside. You followed quickly and shut it behind you. Placing down the bow, you shoved a fallen bookcase in front of the double doors before collapsing against it for a second.

“Okay, this should hold,” you said with another breath. Daryl was swaying on his feet when you looked back at him. “Come on,” you said, picking up the bow and leading him into the main area of the library.

For such a small town, the library was a decent size. You figured that it was probably the main community hub for the neighborhood. It made its untouched books and abandoned keycards that much more sorrowful. Depositing Daryl on one of the lumpy couches, you grabbed your flashlight from your pack and clicked it on.

“I’m going to go make sure there’s no Dead in here,” you said. “Stay here and I’ll be back to take a look at that shoulder.”

“(Y/N),” Daryl said, grabbing your hand before you could move.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. Daryl seemed to be wary but he was also exhausted so he relented and let go. You gave him your canteen, ordered him to drink, and then you began your search.

The dried blood on your skin was driving you crazy as it itched with every second. When you had set out after the Saviors, clutching the grenade you had stolen from Spencer’s stash a few days before, it hadn’t occurred to you that there would be a before and an after.

Before you managed to get to Daryl and after you got him.

Now, it was all about survival. You knew what you had done. Negan was pissed and if you knew anything about his temper solely based on the clearing, then you knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

You feared for your family back in Alexandria. If he wanted to, Negan could go and terrorize your family, perhaps kill more of them. None of that had been on your mind when you began your rescue operation. You weren’t thinking about anyone but Daryl. You had to save him and you were willing to risk your life. Though, now, you realized it wasn’t just your life you were risking.

Shaking the thoughts out of your mind, you finished your rounds through the two stories of the library. You were surprised to only find two Walkers who were less than “alive”. Both were barely hanging on and you figured one of them had been the librarian at some point. You took them both out to end their suffering and then headed back to Daryl.

Daryl was still awake when you joined him on the couch and helped him out of his shirt. The gunshot wound was getting worse and you could tell he was trying to put on a brave face for you. “You don’t have to do that, you know?” you said as you dug through your bag for the alcohol and bandages you always had with you.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Act as if nothing is hurting,” you said, pouring some of the alcohol on a rag. Not giving him a warning, you pressed it against his shoulder and Daryl swore as it burned the wound. “See,” you said with a smirk.

“Ya shouldn’t have done it,” Daryl said after a second.

“If I hadn’t, then you would be dead or worse,” you said. “I wasn’t going to let Negan take anyone else from me. Not after Glenn and Abraham.”

“You saw,” Daryl said and it wasn’t a question. You began cleaning the excess blood off before finding your suturing kit.

“I was in a tree,” you whispered, threading the needle, suddenly very grateful for the lessons Herschel had given you. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

“Maybe he should have,” Daryl said and your hands froze. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you could see the emotions that were raging in him.

“Daryl…”

“He said not to move, kid,” Daryl said. “I lost it after he killed Abraham. If I hadn’t… Glenn would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. We slaughtered that outpost, hell, I’m surprised he didn’t take more people out. I know you and the others think I’m just some kid but I notice more than you think and I have learned to read people. Negan is… I don’t think he’s some kind of deranged maniac but he’s ruthless and he’s not going to stop until he feels as if he has all the power again. At least I can see that he’s not willing to kill kids. Guess that means Carl and I are gonna be on the front lines this time,” you finished with an attempt at humor.

“Not funny,” he said.

“Daryl, you and I both know that this isn’t going to end without a fight.”

“You ain’t fighting,” Daryl said sternly. You ignored him and began stitching up his wound, careful not to pull too much.

“Considering the way Rick was looking at Negan before I left, it doesn’t look like he had much fight left in him. Someone has to do it.”

“Rick has a lot of pressure on his shoulders,” Daryl defended but you just shook your head.

“I watched him tear a man’s throat out with his teeth, Daryl,” you said. “This was different. I warned you about his pride and how it was going to be his downfall. He just needs to be reminded of the leader he is.”

“Since when are ya so mature?”

“Since I watched the people I love get killed again and again,” you said as you tied off the last stitch.

“You blame Rick,” Daryl said.

“I blame all of us,” you said, picking up the clean bandages. “We believed that moron at Hilltop… We never should have gone after the Satellite Station, Daryl. We keep doing this, getting involved in fights that aren’t ours.”

“We have to help people,” Daryl said. “It’s what we do.”

“Why? Why do we have to? Why is it our responsibility? Why can’t we just survive like everyone else?”

“Someone has to be the good guys,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he believed it.

“I’m sick of being them,” you admitted, finally sitting back.

“Ya really mean that?” Daryl asked as he shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulder. You sat there for a minute before sighing.

“No,” you whispered. “I’m just sick of the death.”

-----------

Daryl was asleep finally and you became the sole protector.

It was odd, the role reversal. So many times you had been the one hurt and cowering as Daryl protected you. Now, after seeing all the horrors you had since Terminus, your skin was stronger than stone. It was going to take a lot more than a bastard with a bat to break you.

You could hear Daryl’s soft snore from the lounge as you scanned the darkness. You stayed there, watching until the soft rumbles of a truck echoed through the night. Ducking down, you watched as a pickup truck drove slowly through the town, a spotlight scanning the empty storefronts.

"Fuck," you whispered. Glancing at the bow by your side, you made a quick decision as the truck came to a stop and three men, Saviors, jumped out.

Sneaking back towards Daryl, you left his bow, loaded, by his side. Taking one last look at him, you slipped your jacket over your shoulders and headed to the second floor. An open window welcomed you near the back exit. Being an avid climber it was easy to maneuver out onto the slanted roof and grab onto the drainage pipe to take you to the ground.

Muffled voices reached your ears as you kept to the shadows. "Spread out, kill the man, take the girl," a man said, a voice you didn't recognize.

"That girl nearly killed Negan," another said.

"We are Negan," the third said. "And we do what he orders. Saviors don't kill kids. Find her." While it was a bold statement, you knew it was false. Hilltop had said, a boy was murdered. None of that fit.

Trying not to overanalyze anything, you focused on the task at hand. Picking up a large rock, you threw it as far as you could. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air and a set of boots took off in that direction.

As the second man went West, you focused on the solo scout who headed towards the abandoned police station. As you got closer, groans reached your ears. Spotting the Walker first, you snuck up behind it and slit its throat with a single slice. The gargling of Dead blood and empty lungs perforated your surroundings but it was enough to call attention to the Savior.

"Ugly motherfucker," the Savior said, not yet spotting you as you stood behind it. As the Savior drew his blade to silently end the creature, you shoved the Walker forward onto the man.

Stunned by the sudden momentum, he cried out as the Walker bit into the face before it. The Savior’s scream was cut off short as the Walker found its next meal. As soon as the damage was done, you finished off both, making sure to stifle the sounds that would pull your other two targets closer. Dragging both bodies out of sight, you slipped back into the shadows.

-----------

Moving West, you avoided any other Walkers who were wandering.

Not looking to be tracked by the Walker equivalent of breadcrumbs, you made sure to stay hidden for the most part. Finally spotting your next target, you began wishing you had grabbed Carl’s gun with his silencer before you had followed after the caravan. Only armed with knives now, you had to make do.

The Savior was looking through a desolate pet shop as you snuck in through a broken window, careful not to make too much noise with the shattered glass.

Picking up a tennis ball that had been neglected, you rolled it towards the aisle the Savior was looking in. Just like a curious golden retriever, the man followed the little ball right into your path. He barely had time to shout a warning before your knife was embedded into his carotid.

His eyes were wide as blood poured onto your hand. Keeping your nerve, you twisted the knife and fully severed the artery. The man fell to his knees as you pulled the blade free. Clutching his throat, he tried to speak but no sound came. “You’re not going to find him,” you whispered as he fell back and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Quickly, you shoved your blade into his brain before grabbing his weapon. It wasn’t silenced but it would have to do if it came down to a firefight. Turning back towards the main street, you ran from the store in hopes of catching the final Savior before he sounded the alarm.

-----------

The truck was still there but its driver was nowhere to be seen.

Noticing the keys were still in the ignition, you rolled your eyes. Pocketing them, you waited in the cab, hoping the final man would return soon.

Fatigue was starting to set in as you waited and you began to think of when the last time you slept was. Before the turn, you had imagined your teen years to be full of parties and late nights studying for tests in high school. You did not envision you would be waiting in the dark of a truck, ready to get more blood on your hands.

Unlike Carl, it hadn’t been at the prison when you first killed someone. It had been before you had even met Daryl. Before you wandered onto the Greene farm and Daryl and Carol had found you, you had been traveling with your aunt and uncle when bandits had attacked you and killed both before turning their sights on you. Not knowing how to use a gun, only ever seeing your uncle use it and of course, in films, you blindly fired and killed one and then the other. The third, who was just a teenager, had runoff.

After that, you felt ashamed at how you didn’t feel bad about doing it. Shane had explained that it was okay because you did it out of self-defense and Daryl and Maggie had agreed.

Now, as fresh blood joined the flaking blood on your hands, you tried to rationalize that what you were doing now was in defense of another. If the Saviors got Daryl back or killed him, you would not have been able to handle it.

“Focus,” you whispered to yourself. “Handle this and get back to Daryl. He needs you.”

It didn’t take long for the man to return. The man was speaking into his radio and it had never occurred to you to take the other walkies off the other bodies. However, now you knew you weren’t leaving without this one. If Rick wanted to fight and you were hoping that he was, then having a Savior’s radio, attuned to Negan’s base of operations would be a great start to gather intel.

Angling yourself in the front seat, you waited for him to open the door. Steadying your hand, you took a deep breath in, leveled the stolen gun, and just as the driver’s side door pulled open and the overhead light clicked on, you fired one bullet, hitting the man in the head.

Surprised by your own accuracy, you shuffled out of the cab, grabbed the radio, and shoved the body underneath the car. You waited then, for either more Walkers or the cavalry but when none came, you ran back to the library, hoping the shot didn’t wake Daryl. You weren’t in the mood for a lecture.

-----------

“Are ya really that reckless?” Daryl said as soon as you snuck back into the library.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you said, nonchalantly.

“Bullshit, I can practically smell all the blood on you,” he said, folding his arms. His bow was still by his side and after the small amount of rest, he was clearly not in the mood for your aloofness.

“I told you I would protect you,” you said as you moved to your pack and grabbed the discarded canteen, and poured some water on your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the sick smell of iron. "Now, we need to figure out what to do," you said.

"We need to get home," he argued.

"We're going to Hilltop," you said. "They'll be looking for you at Alexandria and you know it."

"Both of us," he pointed out with a slight glare.

"Negan doesn't scare me," you said to him.

"He should."

"We've seen worse," you countered.

"You're too young for all this shit," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"So you've said before," you reminded him.

"(Y/N)..."

"If you're about to say that I need to distance myself from you. You'd be a moron. I'm not leaving you. If you don’t like it, any of it, then you never should have taught me to fight.”

“That’s right, I taught you to fight, not to kill,” he argued. Throwing the water bottle down, you turned on him.

“What is this about? I’ve seen you kill people. I’ve seen you do worse than taking a few people out to protect someone in our family. What is actually going on here and don’t say that it’s because you’re feeling guilty. It's more than that.”

“Ever think I don’t like seeing you like this," he gestured to your bloody clothes. "Do ya think I want ya to become someone like Negan? Ya act like taking a life ain’t that big of a deal!”

“Will you stop shouting,” you hissed, moving closer to him. “Daryl, I did what I had to. I am so sorry that you think you are the only one who is allowed to cross lines to protect us. I think you forget all the times we have had to save you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you getting mad at me for saving your life. Do you not realize how much you mean to me? I lost my parents before the turn and then my aunt and uncle and I had nobody. Nobody until you found me in that field. You are the closest thing I have to a father, Daryl and I don’t care what I have to do to make sure I don't lose another parent. I can’t handle it, okay? Please, just let me protect you for once!"

The emotions were taking you over then and it was hard to control them. “I don’t mean to cry and all that,” you said, sniffing back the tears, “but you can’t expect me to just sit back and do nothing when people keep trying to take you away from me.”

Daryl’s stern look dissipated then and it made you feel a bit worse. Wiping at the tears on your face, you turned away from him. Soon, you felt his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest just as he had earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, you were just tryin’ to help. Okay, I ain’t mad.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” you said into his chest.

“I just worry about ya,” he said. “Ya know why?” Shaking your head, he tightened his hold. “Cause I see ya as my kid, too and I would do anythin’ to keep ya safe. I guess I gotta accept you’re going to do the same." Stepping back, he wiped the tears off your cheeks. “Just no more sneaking out, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed. "Daryl, just know you don't have to carry it all. You can share your burden."

"I thought I was the parent here," he said.

"Family works both ways."

"Yes it does," he said.

Then with a bit more of a smile, you produced the keys you had stolen from the car. “I got us a ride cause you're still stuck with me."

"You're so stubborn," he said.

"I got it from you," you said with a gesture to the street. "You're going to have to drive."

"Right, no need to almost die twice in twenty-four hours," he said and you offered him a small smile. Daryl then took your hand in his as he gathered your pack. "I ain't leavin' you. You're stuck with me, too. I got you, kid,” he said. "And thanks for comin’ to get me.” You looked up at him and nodded.

“Always.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @agent-laufeyson @lucillethings

#The walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x daughter!reader #apolloloki97 #walkerwords #negan #twd #daryl dixon imagines #twd imagine #daryl dixon

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys as expecting fathers

characters: TimeSkip!Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Kōtarō, & Ushijima Wakatoshi, all with a Fem!Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnant reader and mentions of having a baby so pls be mindful if this makes you dysphoric or if you’re not in a good headspace for it. But otherwise, it’s all fluff so I hope it makes you guys smile!

a/n: everyone around me irl is having babies so here is the result of that LOL i love cute stories about expecting families and shit. All of these are obviously with TimeSkip! characters! And none of the following gifs are mine so credits to the original creators! Hope you guys like it :)

haikyuu masterlist

Tsukishima loves to tease the shit out of you, and that hasn’t really changed since you started getting bigger. But now, he’ll hide your cravings in the top shelves of the pantry so you have to make him come get it. He can’t help it, it’s that angry pouty look in your eyes - he’s so in love with you, even when you look like you’re about to murder him.

But despite him hiding everything you could possibly crave, he is an absolute sweetheart. He calls his mom every now and then to update her about you and the baby, probably asks about what she liked when she was pregnant. She tells him stories about liking to read to him and his brother, or how she enjoyed a nice bath if she was particularly sore that day. She even joked that she found it really hard to put her shoes on so typically she just wore slippers or easy to slip on shoes.

Cut to the next day, you wake up to Tsukishima reading a book of dinosaur facts to your belly. He’s not so much reading it as he is disputing and/or explaining further the facts that are written in it. He doesn’t notice you wake up while he waves away the book and states, “It’s fine. When you’re here, I’ll just bring you to my museum and I’ll show you in person. I can sneak you out of daycare, just don’t tell your mom.”

You had hoped to be able to keep your independence for longer than this, but found yourself struggling to properly put on your shoes. You huffed, muttering something to your unborn kid about how you’d hold this over their heads forever, and just waddled about with the backs of your shoes folded under your heel. Tsukishima raised an eyebrow as he noticed, waiting for you to sit down in the car before holding the door open and bending down to properly put your shoes on.

“Kei, what’re you doing?” You laughed, watching him swiftly tie up your laces. “They’re fine, they’re old shoes anyways.”

“If you wear your shoes like that, you’ll fall and hurt yourself,” he shrugged. “I can’t have you hurting the little Tsukishima just because you can’t put your shoes on.”

His expression was the same plain emotionless face as usual, but you smiled anyways because here he was, kneeling in front of you and helping you with what is supposed to be a simple task.

The day went on as usual, but you definitely weren’t prepared for your husband to call you into the bathroom and display the little bath he had drawn you with your favourite candle lit.

“Did you do something?” You asked him with narrow eyes, making him scoff.

He rolled his eyes, helping you out of your clothes gently, “Am I really such a bad husband that you think I’d have to be feeling guilty to be nice to you?”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding playfully, “Yup. So what did you do?” You laugh and he just flicks your forehead before helping you into the tub.

You watch as he smirks a bit, holding your chin for a second and watching your eyes, “Well I’m the reason you got knocked up so I supposed I have to take care of you don’t I?”

He doesn’t hold that sultry teasing look on his face for too long, especially when you splash him with water, drenching every part of him you could reach 😂.

Bokuto is in a PANIC the closer you get to the due date. You once just felt a bit tired after vacuuming and the boy thought you holding your front meant you were going into early labour.

“I’VE GOT THE CAR KEYS BUT I CAN’T FIND MY WALLET!!! BABE HAVE YOU SEEN NY WALLET? I CAN’T REMEMBER WHERE I PUT IT. OMG WHAT IF THEY WONT TAKE US IN. WHAT IF THERE ARE SO MANY BABIES BEING BORN WE CANT GET IN. I KNEW I SHOULD’VE TAKEN A CLASS ON BIRTHING BABIES!”

You let him run around because he honestly is so entertaining to watch while panicking. He pouts about it later, talking shit about you to your belly, “Your mom’s a big meanie. You need to be born quick so we can team up on her okay?”

“Kōtarō! Don’t you dare try to turn my baby against me!” You laughed, swatting at his head.

Man is overly prepared for any sort of situation. He already set up all the safety baby measures, like corner cushions and outlet covers, though now he’s considering locking up all the knives into a cupboard.

“Kōtarō... how am are supposed to cook like this?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the lack of your sharp cooking knives.. and the butter knives.

The grown man just poured some more, “I gotta keep both my babies safe alright? I’ll cut everything for you so you don’t cut yourself.”

Except for the fact that Bokuto is definitely more accident prone than you are and has a few bandaids on his fingers now.

As an expecting dad, Bokuto found himself getting more and more teary eyed at any situation that involved a family or a baby. Whether that was just seeing kids and families play in the park that the two of you walked past sometimes, or seeing a commercial for diapers with happy bouncy babies, you would turn to see a misty-eyed Bokuto who would then turn to you and wrap you in a tight squeeze.

He was beyond excited at this point to meet your little baby - he wanted to know what they would look like. The perfect mix between the most perfect woman in the world and him, who was pretty cool thank you very much. This baby was going to be the cutest most amazing kid ever, who would definitely play a really great game of volleyball, Bokuto was sure of it.

Let’s be honest though, pregnancy is not an easy journey. Bokuto loved seeing you grow the baby but he knew that it was a difficult process for you. You were always sore and at the beginning you were always sick. And there were some days where you literally didn’t feel attractive or beautiful at all, but Bokuto would praise you as high as he always did regardless.

“You are the most perfect lady I have ever laid eyes on. The most gorgeous being to ever walk this universe!” He told you one day, pressing kisses all over your face as you laid across a couch.

“Thanks,” you tried to give him a smile - you always appreciated his compliments, even if you didn’t necessarily agree.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you with a small frown, noting your forced smile.

“I just… feel bleh. Not at all like how you’re saying I look,” you admitted with a small smile.

Bokuto’s eyes grew wide in shock, jumping over the couch to sit down on the floor next to you. He clasped your hands in his, pressing kissing to them gently as well. “I know you might not feel it… but I hope you know that I still think it. I don’t even have to force it. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and that hasn’t changed even though your body is changing a bit. I don’t need you to wear the most perfect makeup or the best dress for me to think you’re gorgeous. You’re perfect just laying here in my old sweats and I’m happy that I get to come home to see you like this every day,” he grinned, touching your cheek affectionately.

You loved this man. He was so sweet to you in every way possible. But sometimes…. sometimes his sweetness just went a little too overboard. You tried to insist to him that you were pregnant but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. Man refuses to let you do anything for yourself. No lifting boxes, no lifting anything in fear that you might hurt your back.

“Kōtarō, it’s just my purse,” you tried to point out in a laugh, trying to reach it as he held it above your head.

“Nope! Not happening. What if you hurt yourself?”

“... with my purse?”

“Ya!”

“Kōtarō, I have to go shopping for food or we won’t have anything to eat. And baby needs to eat!”

“Well I’ll come with you then!”

“You’ve got practice!”

“It’s fine, I’ll tell them I’ll practice another time! My perfect wife and baby come first,” he’d grin at you and insist on opening all the doors as you two made your way to the car. You fall in love with this man more and more every day, even if he keeps stealing things from your hands.

Ushijima is a really nervous new dad, even if you can’t really tell from his stoic expression. He listens intently to all of the parenting advice people give, bought a few books about newborns, and has hundreds of tabs on his laptop of ranging topics from baby products people insist are necessary, mommy blogs about what is important to do when pregnant, and research that he doesn’t quite understand but feels is important nonetheless.

Ushijima isn’t necessarily a man of words all the time, so you were surprised to find that he started to talk a lot more after finding out that your child could hear him.

“You don’t have to play volleyball if you don’t want to,” he told them quietly one day while the two of you were on the couch. It came so out of the blue that you actually thought he was talking to you.

“Hm?”

“... do you think they’d want to play volleyball?” He asked you sheepishly, glancing at you with a shy expression.

You thought about it for a moment and slowly started to smile, “Well they’ll be attending every single one of your games so I’m sure they’ll be at least interested in learning!”

Ushijima nodded and you watched as a soft smile graced his face. You kept your eyes on him for just a moment longer, seeing a flicker of uncertainty on him.

“Wakatoshi, don’t you dare think for one second you’ll be a bad dad,” you warned him, poking his side and making him jump from surprised.

He stared at you for a moment, blinking, “You know what I’m thinking?”

“I know that you’ve been worried about being a good dad ever since I told you I was pregnant. I know that you’re nervous about being the kind of dad you always wanted to have growing up. I know because I’m terrified of being a good mom too,” you admitted with a nervous sort of smile, interlacing your fingers together. “We’ll be okay together though.”

Ushijima nodded and hummed softly, “We’ll have to take them to France.”

“France??”

“Satori wants to meet them too. He said he would make them chocolate.”

It wouldn’t just be the baby that Satori is constantly trying to spoil, but you as well. He sends over packages of his chocolate for you to try, grinning ear to ear when you call him for a catch-up call.

“Do you like them?” Tendō asked, and you could hear him humming to himself as he moved around a kitchen.

“I love them! But you’re going to make us fat if you keep sending them! They’re much too yummy for me to stop eating!” You laughed, eyes wandering to the kitchen where you knew you still had a few bits of his chocolate left.

“No no no no. I’m just trying to make sure your baby is a cute healthy plump baby! They’ll grow nice and strong!”

It always made you smile, knowing that all these people who loved your husband wanted to love you and the baby as well. Even Ushijima’s new teammates would come by and bring snacks or anything they thought might aid you in your pregnancy. Though, Kageyama wasn’t really sure what pregnant people or babies liked, so he just brought a whole bag of the milk boxes he liked.

“You’ve got to grow big and strong so that I can defeat you in volleyball one day. I can’t defeat your dad right now… cause he’s on my team. But I’ll defeat an Ushijima one day for sure,” he muttered to your belly with a fierce intensity in your eyes that made you laugh, making his ears turn red as he realized that you also heard him (Kageyama, the baby is attached to her, of course she heard you lol).

As it neared your due date, Ushijima prepared himself mentally every passing day. He wanted to be 110% ready so he went over your birthing plan mentally at least 10 times a day and reread over all the articles and information he had gathered over the months. He wanted to be the best father possible, but you insisted to him that you weren’t worried about this at all. After all, he was already the best husband you could ever have asked for.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#bokuto x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!

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xutokawa · 3 years

Note

I really love your s/o finding scratch marks, so I was wondering if you can do one for Bokuto & Hinata- if not Hinata you can do Akaashi uwu please crush my soul ~🥝

pairings: akaashi x reader, hinata x reader

genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating

warnings: langauge, cheating

wc: 2.4k

» masterlist

a/n: anon!! tysm for this request hehe. sorry it took so long to write :( but I hope you enjoy!! since i already wrote one for bokuto, it’s just hinata and akaashi in this one! also tysm guys for 400 followers!?!!??! i def don’t deserve it since i barely post oops but i still can’t be grateful enough for your support!

atsumu and oikawa ver.

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

suna and bokuto ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Akaashi

Excitement bubbled in your stomach as you checked your appearance in the mirror.

“How do I look?” you teasingly asked your boyfriend. Looking up from his phone, his face immediately formed into a smile.

“Ethereal,” Akaashi replied, taking in your appearance. You giggle as you walked over to where he was sitting on your shared bed, wrapping your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. His scent filled your nostrils as you felt his hand reach up to smooth your hair. Warmth spread through your body.

“You ready to go then?” Akaashi asked you.

“Ready when you are,” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes filled with adoration.

“Let’s go then.”

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The two of you were seated in a nice cafe, hunger satiated as the two of you talked. Your conversations were filled with smiles and laughter. Yet Akaashi’s smiles never seemed to truly reach his eyes. How could they when nothing but guilt filled his mind, when evidence of a drunken escapade was marked on his body?

Akaashi had noticed your intense gaze on his neck, shifting uncomfortably. Panic and dread rose to his throat at the thought of there being a hickey on his neck from the night before. Despite checking in the mirror countless times, he still couldn’t help but feel panicked at the thought of missing one.

“Is everything okay, y/n?” Akaashi tentatively asked, rubbing his hand over his neck. Snapped out of your trance, you meet his eyes before laughing it off.

“Yeah, just zoning out,” you tried to laugh off. You couldn’t shake it from your head. That couldn’t have been a hickey. Even if it was, Akaashi wouldn’t be so careless to not cover it, right? Unless he wanted you to see it. Tears pricked at your eyes. You quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, not wanting Akaashi to see your tears.

As soon as you left his sight, Akaashi hurriedly checked his camera on his phone to see what you were staring at. Sure enough, a purple splotch was peeking out from underneath his shirt. Akaashi cursed as he wracked his mind with what to do. All he could come up with was pulling his shirt collar to one side.

His heart hammered in his chest. Would you break up with him when you came out of the bathroom? He felt his heart crumble at the thought of you leaving him. Akaashi was hoping he would eventually forget about his mistake and move on with his life with you. He just wanted to move onto the moment he got down on one knee, the moment the two of you would buy a house for the first time, the moment you held your children in your arms. He just needed to get past this moment.

He knew as soon as he saw you walk out of the bathroom. Your red eyes and blotchy cheeks gave it away. You saw, and now you knew how shitty of a person he was.

Silence enveloped the two of you as you sat back down.

“So you saw,” Akaashi confirmed. All you could do was nod in response.

“Wh-what do you want to do now?” Akaashi choked out. He truly didn’t want to lose you. It was like living in a nightmare, but the most he could do now was respect your wishes.

“I-” you started off, taking a breath before continuing, “I want to go back to the apartment.”

Akaashi silently nodded in understanding before gathering his things and leaving to pay. You buried your face in your hands, not fully grasping the situation at hand. Why was he acting so guilty? This was Akaashi, your boyfriend since your third year at high school. Never once did you doubt the love you held for each other during your relationship.

“C’mon, y/n, let’s go,” Akaashi said, tentatively reaching his hand out to you. You debated whether or not you should take it, still unsure of everything going on. Finally, you gave him, letting his long fingers intertwined with yours. You almost wanted to laugh at how easily your unease washed away at his touch, how you immediately felt comforted, when the man who made you feel this way had traces of another on his skin.

The two of you drove in silence, neither one of you sure of what to say in this situation. Confusion swarmed Akaashi’s mind. You obviously saw the hickey on his neck, yet you weren’t lashing out, demanding to break up with him. Yet he could see you were visibly troubled, your history and past with him getting in the way of your rationality. Guilt and shame pooled in Akaashi’s stomach. He shouldn’t be using his familiarity with you as a way to keep you with him. He was unfaithful, and deserved all the consequences. He knew that, no matter how heart wrenching it was to have you leave him.

Silence continued to envelop the two of you as you walked up to your shared apartment. As soon as you entered the threshold of your home, Akaashi attempted to start some sort of conversation.

“Y/n, I think we need-” Akaashi attempted to start.

“Baby, I’m really tired, can this wait till after I take a nap,” you cut him off. Maybe if you continued to pretend you saw nothing, that this was just another day, everything would be okay. You and Akaashi would be okay.

“You can’t just ignore what just happened, y/n!” Akaashi reasoned. Your detachment from the situation honestly scared him a bit. He would’ve expected you to demand him to move out, maybe even a smack across the face, but your reaction was unexpected and unsettling.

“Nothing’s wrong, Akaashi,” you said, tears beginning to pool, “I still love you, and you love me, right?”

“Y/n-” Akaashi started, “of course I love you, which is why I can’t stand to see you like this! I fucking cheated on you! I don’t deserve your love! You shouldn’t be forgiving me! I don’t deserve you anymore!”

Tears began streaming down your face at his words.

“No, no no no, Akaashi, no! We’re supposed to be together! You wouldn’t hurt me like that, Akaashi, you love me too much to do that to me!” You tried to reason. Deep down, you knew. Even if the two of you somehow got past this moment, new insecurities from this moment would arise. Your relationship would never be the same.

“Y/n! Get it through your fucking head! I cheated on you! I’m a fucking scumbag who forgot how fucking amazing you are! I’m the asshole here! You can’t just forgive me like this! How are you going to forgive me when I’m never going to forgive myself?!” Akaashi’s voice broke at the end.

“Akaashi, stop it! There’s no proof!” You yelled back, not wanting reality to hit. Your eyes widened when Akaashi moved to pull his shirt over his head.

“Is this proof enough?” Akaashi started, “What will it take for you to realize? Did you want me to call them up? Have them tell you? Y/n, please, don’t put yourself through this! Fucking wake up and realize!”

You collapsed to the ground, sobbing as you took in his appearance. Hickeys littered his neck and chest, red scratches on his shoulders. It finally hit you. Akaashi cheated on you. He left you for another.

“Why? Why did you have to ruin this, Akaashi!” you yelled, “was this not enough?”

“I don’t know, y/n,” Akaashi began breaking down, “I regret all of it. I would give anything to turn the clock back, but I can’t! This is reality, and we both have to face it whether we like it or not!”

Pain flared in Akaashi’s chest as your eyes met his. He watched as the love you held for him slowly dissolved from your eyes. His heart fell into pieces as you walked into your shared bedroom, only to emerge moments later with a small duffle bag. He recognized it. It was the duffle bag you used when the two of you took trips. You were leaving.

Tears freely flowed down Akaashi’s face as you wordlessly brushed past him, nothing sounding in the room except your hiccups.

“Y/n,” Akaashi started, “where are you going?”

“Away,” you replied, giving no other explanation. The coldness and sadness in your voice sent knives into Akaashi’s heart, but it’s what he deserved. He couldn’t beg for your love again, or have the right to yearn for your warm embrace. He’s the one who ruined everything, so Akaashi could do nothing but helplessly watch you walk away from him, leaving him alone in a cold apartment.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Hinata

“Y/n~” Your boyfriend whined, plopping his head into your lap. Your hand instinctively went to comb through his orange hair.

“What’s up?” You replied, not looking up from your phone screen. Your eyes finally met his, however, when he pushed away your hands, forcing you to look at him. One look at his pleading eyes was all it took for your heart to melt.

“Can we please go out today? The weather looks so nice,” Hinata pleaded, “Don’t you want to go to the beach?”

“But I just want to watch Netflix,” you whined.

“C’mon, baby. Please?” Hinata looked at you, bottom lip sticking out, “Let’s go outside and enjoy the sun! We can buy ice cream!”

You hesitated for a second.

“Ice cream and smoothies,” you said, “and we go to the mall tomorrow.”

Hinata sent you the brightest smile.

“Deal!”

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“Ugh, y/n, I love you so much,” Hinata mumbled out around a mouthful of ice cream. Giggling, you wiped the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too, baby,” you cooed back, heart swelling at the sight of his smile. Hinata didn’t understand how you still managed to give him butterflies after five years of dating, but he wasn’t complaining. The way your eyes crinkled and your nose scrunched when you laughed made him feel warm inside, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life like this with you,” you said, eyes shining with adoration as you looked at your boyfriend. The amount of love you held for the spiker in front of you was unexplainable. All you knew is he made you feel like you were on top of the world, the only thing that mattered to him.

Gasping dramatically, Hinata replied, “That’s insane, because I’ve been thinking that too!”

“Stop teasing me,” you laughed off. Hinata’s chuckles blended with yours. The spiker’s joy was cut off as guilt began rising in his stomach. Of course he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were his everything, the reason he felt like he could breathe easier, the reason everything in his world was so bright. But he knew he wasn’t faithful during your relationship. Hinata didn’t even know how it happened. All he remembered was waking up in a hotel room, his legs tangled with another’s. He remembered the feeling of his stomach plummeting to his feet once he saw the mangled marks on his back.

Hinata was pulled out of his thoughts by your voice.

“Is that Bokuto?” You questioned, gaze pointed at the sandy beach. Sure enough, the wing spiker along with Atsumu were there, standing on opposite sides of a volleyball net.

“Yeah, Kageyama and Hoshiumi are there too!” Hinata excitedly pointed out, already walking towards the volleyball match. You recognized a couple of other players standing around the area.

Hinata bounded towards them, yelling out, asking if he could join. You laughed as you watched him immediately settle into a disagreement with Kageyama before he came running back towards you.

“Y/n!” Hinata panted out, “I know this was supposed to be a date, but do you mind if I play a couple matches?”

You giggled as you saw the excitement shining in his eyes.

“It’s no problem, I’ll just go shopping around the boardwalk! Call me when you’re done, but don’t play for too long,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Yes! You’re the best! I love you,” Hinata said as he enveloped you in a hug before taking his shirt off and running back to the volleyball net. Your eyes immediately fell on his shoulders.

“Shoyo, what’s on your back?”

Hinata stopped in his tracks as his stomach fell to his feet. He had completely forgotten about the evidence of his infidelity on his back. The prospect of playing beach volleyball with his friends overtook his rationality, and now he was paying the price for it. He whipped around, eyes now wide, panic replacing the excitement that was there moments before. The hurt swimming in your eyes was enough to make his heart shatter.

“Y/n, I-” Hinata breathed out, unable to form a complete sentence. The spiker felt his knees go weak as he watched you turn around and walk away from him, shoulders shaking. It wasn’t until he heard you say, ‘I won’t be going back to the apartment tonight, don’t wait up’ that he scrambled for his shirt, shoving it over his head as he attempted to catch up to you.

“Y/n, please wait! Let me explain-” Hinata ran after you. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, when you turned around. Nothing but hurt blazed in your eyes as you looked him in the eyes.

“Explain what, Hinata? Did you want to go into detail about how you fucked someone else? Was simply cheating on me not enough? You don’t get to hurt me more than you already have,” you spewed back at him, venom laced in your words. Hinata’s face crumpled into sobs.

“No, y/n, that’s not it at all. I never wanted to hurt you, not ever! I’m so pathetic! I can’t even remember how it happened. It never should have happened, I can’t lose you like this,” Hinata sobbed, falling to his knees at your feet. The thought of losing you sent Hinata’s mind into a panic. His hands scrambled to find yours, clasping to them for dear life. You scoffed at his actions.

“Get up,” you said, looking away from his figure. Hinata hopefully looked up, hoping you would give him the chance to make it up to you. His hopes were shattered, however, when he met your eyes. Instead of the care and affection he was hoping to see, he was met with nothing but embarrassment and putrid hate.

“You’re making a scene. People are staring,” you said, looking around you, “I told you, I’m not going back to the apartment tonight. I’ll grab my stuff later.”

“I’m sorry,” Hinata choked out, “I’m so sorry for everything. Please, you deserve better. Someone who won’t forget what he has in front of him. Someone who will cradle your heart and give you everything you deserve. I love you, y/n. I’m so sorry.”

“I wish I could believe you when you say ‘I love you’, but we both know it’s not true at this point. No loving boyfriend would cheat,” you said lowly, energy drained from the situation.

“No, y/n. Please, if anything, trust that I love you with all of my being, and I would do anything to try and fix this. I can’t imagine my life without you, let me fix this!” Hinata sobbed.

“You should’ve thought about that before you ruined everything,” you said as you looked into his eyes. Tears pooled in both of your eyes. The hurt and regret was evident on the spiker’s face, but you couldn’t give in.

“Goodbye, Hinata.”

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bookishdream · 3 years

Note

can you do a one shot where kaz keeps saying he doesnt like nor does he care for the reader; she overhears him, and goes out into ketterdam but ends up getting seriously injured; also if it too much to ask, can i also add that he does end up giving her a hug but he hesitates at first —this corresponds with the fluff (angst and fluff at the end please ?)

thank you for a request! i hope you're okay with my slight change, enjoy xx

TW: blood, death, disgusting men.

kaz brekker x fem!reader

You were standing, leaning harder against the door of Kaz’s office. You wanted to talk to him about your next job, since you had to buy some bullets and a new knife for Nina and yourself. But what you overheard made your heart shatter into little pieces.

“I don’t care what happens to y/n, she’s another member of the Dregs. I can easily replace her if something happened to her,” bastard’s words were like daggers, cutting your skin and making their way into your heart. You were so stupid falling for him. “Now, Wylan, go and build a bomb or should I replace you as well?”

You heard Wylan’s huff and his steps. When he got out of Kaz’s room and noticed you, his eyes got wide. You sent him a crooked smile and made your way into Brekker’s room.

“I need a list of what you want for the job.” You said, voice steady even though you wanted to fall apart.

“On my desk.”

He wasn’t looking at you, busy with counting his money, you rolled your eyes and took a piece of paper from a wooden desk. You made your way out, not saying another word. Your heart clenched, you wanted to punch yourself for feeling even the slightest emotion for him. You should’ve known better than that, you should’ve known he wouldn’t feel nor show you any kind of emotion except hatred or disgust.

You got out of the club onto Ketterdam’s streets. You loved the city, even though it was dark and dangerous, you felt this was your home. You came here from northern Ravka, before your parents made you to join the First Army. You ran away from them and from the responsibility to protect your country, but you hadn’t felt bad about that, those two years ago and certainly you didn’t feel bad then.

You walked to the best shop with knives you’d known. You bought your first dagger there and you were sure about the quality of blades that were sold in the shop. The old Fabrikator was working there and when he learnt you were from Ravka, he started treating you as his daughter, selling you everything you need with lower prices.

“Hi, Milosh how are you feeling today?” you asked, entering the small shop, the older man smiled seeing you.

“Hello darling, I’m doing great,” he replied, eyeing you and noticing your dark circles underneath your eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

You only nodded, didn’t answer his question further. You gave him the list and when he was looking for the items, you looked out of the window. You noticed three Black Tips but you didn’t pay them more attention. You looked away and focused on Milosh. He had fair hair, probably after his father who were Fjerdan. Few months ago, when he’d found you wandering around Ketterdam, he’d asked for you to come with him to this shop. He’d given you hot cocoa and had told you some stories and myths from both Ravka and Fjerda. He’d told you about his father who once had come with a wolf and the wolf had stayed, about his mother who had been the warmest woman alive, especially when she’d made him a warm bread slice with butter and then read him stories. He was your spirit connection to your mother country, so you knew every legend, every myth and even the story about the Fold.

You heard a door bell ring and you looked behind you only to see those three guys from Geels’ gang. Your spine straightened, your palm subtly went to your belt in order to take out the knife if needed. You looked at them, but they were already looking at you with smirks on their face. You cursed under your breath, knowing it’d be troubles and you didn’t know how it’d come out.

“Who we have here boys? Brekker’s girl.” One of them said, making his way towards you, eyeing you up and down.

“I’m wondering if he got some, she’s even pretty.” The other one came behind you, grabbing you roughly by your arm. You tried to free yourself, but his second hand quickly found its way to yours, cutting your only way to defend yourself.

“I have what you needed, darling,” Milosh came out from the small room, closing the door behind him, when he noticed your position he closed his mouth, forming a thin line. “I think you should leave her.” He said to the guy who was holding you. You clenched your teeth, praying for Milosh to back out. You knew Black Tips, they weren’t the smartest, but they were first to kill and you wanted your friend safe.

“Milosh, get away from here.” You ordered, trying to shake off the hands holding you, the Black Tip only hardened his hold and pressing you to his body.

“And leave you? They should leave, not me.”

“Listen, grandpa, the girl’s right. You leave and we’re going to have some quality time with her,” disgust twisted your face, you wanted to kick him, but you knew they would outnumber you.

Milosh only looked at him and from behind him, the knives started to levitating, he used his powers to push them forward, targeting an opponent’s chest. One of the knives hit him in his neck, killing him. The guy behind you let you go and you quickly turned around, placing your dagger in his crotch. He screamed making you cringe.

“This is why you shouldn’t touch a girl without her permission.”

You looked at the third Black Tip, but he took out a gun, targeting Milosh. You threw a dagger at the same time he pulled the trigger. Knife stuck at his neck, making the pistol fall out of his hands. You looked at Milosh to check on him, but you saw a pool of blood and the man laying on his side.

“No,” you whispered, stumbling against your own legs. You fall on your knees, seeing the shot wound was on his chest, that still was slowly rising. “Milosh, please, stay with me.”

“Y/n, my dear, Saints are going to keep me safe,” he said, making your eyes water. “But you have to let me go.”

You shook your head, placing your hand on his chest, trying to stop the blood from leaking. You felt the hot tears streaming down your face. He was like your father, he couldn’t leave you. “Please.”

But his eyelids closed, making your heart break into pieces. You hugged Milosh, messing your shirt with his blood, but you didn’t care. After what felt like hours, you stood up and went for items you had come here. You felt guilty, you should’ve gone to a different store, you put Milosh in danger.

You walked out of his shop, closing the door gently. The Stadwacht would be there the next day, perhaps someone would four dead bodies, laying on the floor. Your hold on the bag with bullets and a dagger, grew tighter. You tried to calm yourself, but tears still were threatening to pour out of your red eyes. You didn’t want to show how miserable you were, you tried to wipe them off, but you didn’t notice the blood on your sleeve. Now, with blood both on your shirt and face, you looked like a psycho.

You entered the Club with the back door and you go to Kaz’s room, hoping he’d be there. You knocked and instantly after, you let yourself in. He was sitting in his chair, but when you came in, he looked up, his eyes widened at the blood which was everywhere.

“What happened to you?” he asked, getting up and making a step towards you. But like he thought better of it, he stopped, placing one of his hands on his desk. “Are you injured?”

You wanted to say something, but when you opened your mouth, only a sob came out. Kaz seeing how you barely could stand on your legs, took your arm and gently led you to the chair next to his desk.

“Y/n, I need to know if you’re wounded.” He said, looking at you, his eyes soft.

“It’s not my blood,” you whispered, making him let out the breath. He felt better knowing you were not bleeding. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Kaz’s head snapped, he tried to understand who you were talking about, but you only looked dead into his eyes. “I killed him, Kaz.”

You were never a person who cried after killing someone from another gang, he knew it had been hard for you since the beginning, but he had never seen you crying. He felt his heart clenched at that sight. “What happened?”

You started playing with your fingers, trying to avoid this conversation, but you knew he had to know. “Do you know who Milosh is?”

Kaz frowned, trying to put a face into the name, he nodded his head when he recalled the old man working in the store, where you bought your weapons. “He was like a father to me,” you wiped off the tears from your cheeks. “Even though I still have one, he acted more like my dad than my real one,” you laughed, but the sound was dry and humourless. You told him everything that happened. About the Black Tips, how Milosh wanted to keep you safe but he failed. How that one Black Tip was still lying unconscious on the shop’s floor. Kaz’s jaw clenched, he wanted to kill this man. You looked up at him and slowly got up. He made a step back, letting you.

You walked to the door, eyes dry and you placed your hand on the door knob.

“Wait.”

You turned around, facing Kaz who was slowly walking towards you. One minute he was beside the chair and the second one his arms were around your back, gently hugging you. You were shocked, but after a second, you hugged him back, tightening your arms around his waist. You heard him taking a breath, and you wanted to let go, but he only held you closer.

“Are you okay with that?”

“I’m great.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc inej #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #milo the goat #nina zenik #soc kaz #soc wylan #soc jesper

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sabo-has-my-heart · 2 years

Note

Congratulations on 100 followers Darlin!!! ☺️ I'm happy for you!!!

For your event can I please have guardian angel Corazon x Reader fluff with the prompt “Can I see your beautiful smile?” ❤️‍🩹

Thank youuuu

My first Corazon/Rosinante fic! I hope I can do him justice, he’s such a sweetheart, he deserves all the best.

Looking at your Guardian Angel you sighed.

“You’re on fire again.” you stated, completely deadpan, watching as his eyes widened before quickly moving to put the fire out.

“How is it that you’re clumsier than I am? You’re a Guardian Angel, aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, all super smooth and graceful?” you asked, looking at the blond. Corazon smiled and laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Most mortals think so, yeah, but we’re actually just as accident prone as anyone else.” he said before bringing his cigarette back to his lips.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you those are bad for you?” you asked, once again scolding your angel. Your Guardian Angel always struck you as a little weird. Angels were supposed to be these heavenly, graceful, amazing, super beings! Corazon was the biggest klutz you’d ever seen, smoked and drank, and you’d once seen him lose his halo, how he managed to lose his halo, you still wondered. That being said, he was still incredibly sweet. He always stood between you and anyone wishing to attempt you harm, protecting you, even at the cost of his own well-being. Other humans weren’t quite sure what happened when they tried to hurt you, only for their knives to stop a foot or more from your body before being wrenched from their hands, but perhaps that was for the best. Mortals really probably shouldn’t know about all of the mystical guardians that inhabited the earth.

“Bad for mortals, sure.” Corazon said, drawing you out of your thoughts about your klutz of a guardian.

“Yeah, well I’m mortal, you’ll kill me from second hand smoke.” you said, hands on your hips as you stared at him.

“You’ll be alright, I’m an angel, I can make sure it won’t harm you.” Corazon stated with another large smile. The man was almost always smiling. You sighed and shook your head, knowing that nothing you said would change his mind.

“Sure, sure, and what about the harm that comes to you? Who’s gonna protect me from that?” you asked, pointing at the bandage over his skinned knee. Somehow he’d managed to trip while in mid air and land on the pavement. He’d been flying! How had he tripped?!

“That’s harm to me, it won’t affect you.” Corazon stated, not quite understanding what you were getting at.

“Usually, yes, but one of these days, you’re going to light yourself on fire, or trip, and it’s finally going to hit me, you’re going to accidentally burn my apartment down or something. I’ve literally seen you trip and fall upwards into the ceiling! I lit a cigarette for you to try and keep you from lighting yourself on fire and you still lit your coat on fire, and you still haven’t told me what happened in that ceramic store! I was gone for 5 minutes and told you not to move an inch! How did you destroy the entire store in 5 minutes?!” you exclaimed, remembering all of the broken ceramic. Thankfully, you hadn’t been blamed since you’d been grabbing something from your car when shit had gone down, but you still felt guilty for having brought Corazon along in the first place.

“Heheh, i-it’s fine! Really! Now come on, why don’t you cheer up.” the blond suggested, giving you yet another smile.

“I think you're cheery enough for the both of us.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You know, you remind me of a kid I knew, I guess you could call him a Guardian Trainee that I looked after for a while. He never really smiled either.” Corazon stated, smiling at the memories of the closest thing he had to a son. Corazon stood up, walking over to you. The man was abnormally tall, not that you really knew how tall angels usually were, but compared to humans, he was tall.

“Can I see your beautiful smile, please?” Corazon asked, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. You blushed lightly and looked away, not wanting him to see you so flustered.

“I… I don’t know why you think my smile’s so beautiful, it’s not like you’ve really seen it.” you argued, crossing your arms. Corazon chuckled, making you turn towards him.

“I’ve been watching you for some time, I’ve seen you smile before. Now please? Just one smile?” he pleaded once more, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster, which, on a man as tall as he was, was quite an odd sight. Sighing, you gave in and nodded.

“Alright, just, give me a moment to think of something that’ll make me smile.” you said the man’s eyes seeming to light up.

“I have the perfect idea to make you smile!” Corazon stated giddily. You quirked an eyebrow at the man, curious as to his idea. The man kneeled down to your height, placing a hand on your cheek before lightly kissing you on the lips. Immediately your cheeks flushed a bright red, your body stiffening.

“W-what was that?!” you shouted, your entire face bright red.

“It was supposed to make you smile. I thought you would like it.” Corazon said with a small, shy smile. You were pretty sure the blush was spreading to your ears, down your neck, and all the way to your chest as you looked away.

“W-well who said that you kissing me would make me smile. M-maybe I don’t… I don’t like… I don’t know, maybe I don’t want to be kissed!” you said, trying to calm your racing heart. A small frown crossed Corazon’s features, making you feel a little guilty. You didn’t want to make him upset, you were just embarrassed.

“I… not that I’m saying I don’t, I just… maybe… maybe you shouldn’t… or I… I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” you muttered, looking away from him, face still flushed. You took in a deep breath before looking at the man again.

“Corazon?” you inquired, making the man look at you, “I… you’re not a bad kisser, I figured someone as clumsy as you would mess it up.” you teased, a small smile playing on your lips. Instantly, the man brightened, a bright, beaming smile on his lips, wider than any you’d seen before. You had the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

#one piece corazon #corazon #Rosinante #reader x corazon #rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante

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dauntless-gothamite · 3 years

Text

Prove Them Wrong [3/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I like what I did with the end of this one, putting a (hopefully) comedic/unique twist on a trope and adding something original :) feedback is very much appreciated, happy reading

When you walked into the training room the next morning, everyone avoided looking at your face, specifically, your neck. Instead, people looked at the ground. You knew you had bruises around your neck from where Peter had grabbed you, but you hadn’t expected a group of dauntless to be so touchy about it; bruises were common here.

“Alright, listen up!” Four yelled. “We are doing some target practice today, so line up and get throwing,” he said, pointing to the line of targets against the wall. At least you weren’t fighting today; your body could use a break. That fight with Peter really had worn you out, and since you guys had thrown knives a couple times already, you were starting to get familiar with the technique.

You walked up to a free target and looked over the knives positioned on the table before you, holding one and turning it over in your hand. “Well? Are you going to throw that knife or just stare at it all day?” the gruff, aggressive voice of Eric asked. You turned to look at him, and a part of you was pleased to notice that he was looking you in the face, not avoiding your eyes and neck like everyone else around here.

One side of your mouth quirked up in the beginning of a smile before you replied, “I’m about to throw it.”

“Then get on with it!” Without hesitation, you turned your body to the target, and you positioned your feet similar to how you would if you were throwing punches instead of knives. Gripping the handle, you drew the knife back, aimed, and twisted forward, releasing the knife as you traced an invisible arc over your head. The knife stuck to the target with a thud, but it was a little lower than you’d hoped it would be. Eric nodded and said “Get that figured out before I get back, and maybe I won’t yell at you,” before walking away to stand behind some other initiate, most likely to stress them out so much that they’d miss the target completely. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t yell at me very much, you thought to yourself. Because I don’t break under the pressure of his judgemental stare. After taking many math tests with teachers walking around the room, looking over each student’s shoulder as they frantically scribbled down answers, you were used to being watched and assessed.

Picking up the next knife, you lined yourself up just like you did before and repeated the motion, letting go of the knife a bit earlier this time. The knife landed at the height you wanted it to, but it was a little far to the side. Grabbing for the next knife, you made sure that this time you didn’t twist as much, but you did everything the same way you did before, and the third knife landed just a few millimeters from where you’d aimed, but you were satisfied. Smirking to yourself, you looked to either side before walking forward cautiously to grab the knives from the target. As you grabbed the first knife’s handle and pulled it out of the target, you heard the sound of a knife flying through the air near your head, and in an instant, said knife embedded itself just a centimeter above your head in the target.

“What the fuck!” you yelled. Whipping around to glare at whichever person’s knife had gone so far off course, you saw Eric standing where you had been standing to throw the knives with a smirk on his face.

“Just testing you,” he said nonchalantly. You scowled in response, eyeing the knife he still held in his hands. You locked eyes with him, and his smirk grew wider as you backed up against the target, knowing what would come next, right before Eric’s second knife landed between your arm and your torso. You turned back around to grab your knives, and Eric said “Grab mine too, initiate.” While you were turned around, you rolled your eyes, but you did retrieve his knives for him, passing them back to him curtly. He grabbed them out of your hands, fingers brushing ever so slightly in the process, before turning around to torment someone else.

At dinner, just as you were about to take a bite of your hamburger, Will asked, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get Eric not to hate you!”

“He doesn’t like me,” you scoffed.

“At the very least, he doesn’t yell at you every five minutes,” Tris butted in, to which Will and Christina nodded fervently.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

“No way, luck could not possibly get that man to be even a little bit nice to anybody,” Christina countered.

“Ok, maybe not, but like I said, I don’t know! Maybe it’s because I don’t crack under pressure or something.”

“Something like that,” Will conceded with a sigh before turning on Tris. “Your turn; what’s going on with you and Four?”

“Nothing!” Tris replied.

“Come on, don’t lie to us,” Christina said. You badly wanted to say something to try and get more information out of Tris, but you refrained just in case they decided to turn back on you and start asking about Eric again.

“I don’t know,” Tris said. “He’s cute, though,” she admitted with flushed cheeks.

The banter between you all went on like that for a little while as everyone ate their dinner, until Will got up and said, “I’ll see you guys back at the dorm; I want to get there early and hit the showers while everyone is still at dinner. Get a little privacy for once,” and stood up with a smile.

As soon as Will was out of earshot, you leaned across the table to Christina and said “So, when are you finally going to tell Will you like him?” you smirked.

“What? No,” Christina said.

“Come on, Tris, back me up here,” you said.

“She has a point,” Tris said with a nod.

“You guys are unbelievable!” Christina said and stood up, prompting you and Tris to do the same, and then you all headed out of the dining area together to stroll through dauntless for a little while before going back to the dorm so as to give Will some privacy.

“You know, I think I’m going to try and shower early as well,” Tris said as the three of you walked. “But don’t worry, Christina, I won’t look at Will,” she winked and laughed before peeling off towards the dorm.

“Hey!” Christina yelled after her as you stood next to her, doubled over in laughter.

“Will, can you calculate the speed at which my fist hits the punching bag? Can you--” you teased Christina.

“Stop it!” she shrieked, her blush deepening.

“Just admit that you like him, it should be easy for an ex-Candor!”

“Fuck off!” she said, but there was no malice in her tone. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and that was the last straw before Christina gave you a hard shove, making you stumble as you laughed at her expense. Then your body collided with something solid. You heard whomever you had just crashed into growl in frustration as you stared at their black boots. Eric’s black boots. Your laughter died in your throat as you stood, taking note of the numerous pages and folders that were undoubtedly full of important files in them scattered across the floor. You made eye contact with Christina’s, who at least had the decency to look guilty as she retreated down the hallway, as Eric said “Well, initiate. I don’t know what you were doing, nor do I care, but the rest of your evening will be spent reorganizing the files you just scattered everywhere.”

You nodded as you made eye contact with him before bending over to pick up the pages on the floor. Once you had picked everything up, Eric started walking and you followed up three flights of stairs and down a hallway, eventually coming to a stop outside a door which he unlocked. You followed him inside as he turned on the lights, and looking around, you knew this was his office. “You will sort these pages by category and date, then leave them on my desk when you’re finished, understood?”

“Actually, I have a question,” you asked as an idea occurred to you. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t something physical be a better punishment? Just because I happen to be good at sorting, this feels like it’s--”

“No,” Eric said. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to get an advantage by extra training and building it into something you already have to do. I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

Nervous to push him any further, you decided to throw one more thing out there, and if he didn’t take it well you would shut it and sort the files. “Well, of course not, you are from Erudite originally, so--”

“Who told you that,” Eric asked, annoyed. You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes for a moment.

“No one, it’s just that Ms. McKimmerer talked about you all the time.”

“That old math teacher? He asked incredulously”

“Yeah, she always said ‘Eric Coulter memorized more digits of pi than any other student in his year, try to be more like him’ and ‘It’s a shame he left Erudite’ when she taught us about pi.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Eric scoffed. “And don’t mention that to anyone, initiate!”

“I won’t!” you said, slightly amused. After a brief pause, you said, “But you should know, there is even a picture of you from that year on her desk, with your hair combed back and a blue collared shirt.”

Eric paused for a moment, and you did your best not to break, but eventually you howled in laughter; his wide-eyed reaction was just too funny.

Scowl in place, Eric schooled his face into a calm, if annoyed mask, and said “get to work on those files. I will check back in a bit to see if you’re done sorting them.” Then, he walked out and shut the door behind him. Chuckling to yourself, you got to work on the large stack of paper before you.

The door opened loudly and you woke up to the sound of Eric Coulter clearing his throat. “Did you finish sorting the files before falling asleep at my desk, initiate?”

Sitting up, slightly embarrassed, you nodded. “Good. Now get out of my office and go eat dinner.”

You stood from the desk, hesitating for a minute. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” you said, turning to face Eric.

“Yes?”

“Well, I noticed you have a few books in here, and I was wondering if I could borrow Mental Conditioning: Getting Your Mind and Body On the Same Page. I wasn’t looking through your stuff, it’s just on the self over there--”

“I know where my own damn book is,” he said, walking over to it and grabbing the book off the shelf. “Here,” he said, handing it to you. “Return it when you're done, and it better be in the same condition it is now when I get it back, understood?”

“Yes, thank you!” you smiled at him, pleasantly surprised that he was letting you borrow the book.

That night, when you got back to the dorm room, you read a few pages of Eric’s book before going to bed. It was a little hard to focus with all the noise--you’d find a better spot to read tomorrow--but you were happy nonetheless; while dauntless was great, you had missed all the books that were available to you at Erudite. As your eyes grew tired, you reached into your bag under your bed, which held your few belongings--every initiate got one--and pulled out a napkin you had been doodling some tattoo ideas on during lunch, placed it between the pages to act as a bookmark, and put the book away in the bag. You closed your eyes, surrounded by your friends, mind calm from reading, and for a moment, despite the lingering pain around your neck, you were completely at peace as you drifted off to sleep.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny, @parabatai-winchester, @marvel-ousnesss

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader #divergent #dauntless #erudite #amity #candor #abnegation #tris prior #tobias eaton #four divergent #peter hayes #divergent imagine #motherfxking-flannel #motherfxking flannel

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naranciasimp · 3 years

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hey! could i request a prosciutto x female reader scenario where she comes back from a mission clearly hurt and panicked, and is afraid that her crush, prosciutto, is going to scold her so she tries to hide it and fake being well (while not being very good at it)

lots of fluff in the end pros takes care of her.. feel freed to add some things if you want to

I Could Never Be Mad At You

AN: This is probably the longest fanfic I have ever written. This ended up being more of a La Squadra x Reader than just Prosciutto but I hope you like it! Under the cut for length.

You opened the door to La Squadra’s hidden base as quietly as you could. You poked your head around the door to make sure no one was there. Luckily it seemed as though everyone was doing their own thing.

You stumbled through the door while holding your side. You do not know how this happened. You were always so good on missions. You took down enemies left and right. Even Risotto was impressed by your skill.

Sadly, today was the day your winning streak came to an end. You didn’t kill your target, he got away. You felt guilty and nervous. This was going to set the whole team back a pay check, Risotto would have to go out of his way to clean up the mess you made and the other members would probably hate you for at least a month. The one thing you were most scared about was Prosciutto scolding you. You had a feeling he was going to extremely be disappointed and that was the last thing you wanted.

The pain you felt was insane. Everything hurt and you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. You just needed to make it to your room. You kept a secret med kit in there for situations like this.

After stumbling around you finally made it to the door of your room. You reached out to open it when someone appeared behind you. It was Pesci.

“Oh Y/N! You’re back. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he said in a happy tone. From where he was standing he couldn’t see the wounds on your body.

You hummed in response hoping that would be enough for him to leave you alone. You always talked to Pesci. Out of all of La Squadra you were by far the nicest to the boy.

Pesci could tell something was wrong when you didn’t face him with a bright smile like you normally do. “Y/N? Are you ok?”

The room began to go black. You could feel yourself losing consciousness. Before you could respond you felt your head fall back with the rest of your body.

Pesci quickly caught you before you hit the ground. He immediately saw the huge amount of blood covering your stomach. Your arms and legs were covered in gashes. Your head was bleeding and you had a black eye.

Pesci screamed at the sight of your unconscious, bloody, body in his hands. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound.

“Don’t…. tell….. Prosci-” Those were your last words before you passed out again. Of course that didn’t matter now. Pesci screamed and when something happened to him Prosciutto was always the first to show up.

Prosciutto ran to you both. “What happened,” he yelled. He saw Pesci holding what looked to be a girls body.

Pesci face was pale and it looked the most frightened Prosciutto had seen. “Fratello! Help!” Pesci moved so his brother could see what happened.

Prosciutto felt his heart stop. He was a man who stayed calm under pressure, the man who always had a plan, one of the best gang members Passione had ever seen. In this type of situation he would just yell at whoever got hurt to step up their game, patch up their wounds and hand them over to Melone so he could handle the rest. He would later come in to apologize for yelling, tell them he was proud of them and all of that other good stuff.

Now was different. Now it was you. His one weakness. The woman who he would do anything for. The one person he cared about the most.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Pesci stay with her!” Prosciutto ran off to grab one of the medical kits.

“It’s gonna be okay Y/N just stay with us,” Pesci said. He was trying to be brave but the worry in his voice was clear. Prosciutto showed up again. He opened the door to your room and threw the med kit inside.

“Come on Pesci grab her feet, we’re going to put her on her bed.” The two boys easily carried you into your room and gently placed you down.

Prosciutto opened the medical kit and ordered Pesci to go tell Melone what happened. Once the younger boy left Prosciutto began to take off your clothes. He hoped one day he would see you undressed but he did not want it to be like this. Your unconscious body still laid on the bed now in just a bra and underwear.

Now that you were undressed Prosciutto could see all of the wounds you received. The most concerning one was on your stomach. You had been stabbed by something and by the looks of it you opened the wound more by moving.

Prosciutto was not the healer of the team by any means. He knew how to fix simple wounds and he was better at it then others but he didn’t even know where to begin with your wound.

Thankfully Melone was here at base today. He ran to the room with more medical supplies. “Move out of the way,” Melone ordered. Prosciutto did what he asked.

He began to get to work on your wound. Your injury brought a lot more attention to yourself then you would’ve liked. Soon enough the whole entire team was inside the room. There was lots of What happened? Is she ok? And many swear words beginning used.

“Everyone shut up! Risotto and Prosciutto stay here, the rest of you get out now,” Melone shouted. He was never one to lose his temper, that was Ghiaccio’s job. The more La Squadra yelled the more nervous Melone got, he did not want shaky hands while trying to keep you alive.

The whole room went silent and Melone continued his work. Everyone he ordered to leave left. They all sat outside your door waiting until they could come back in. Their “whispering” was incredibly loud but they were really trying their best to behave well.

Melone called Risotto over. “Try to see if you can stop all the iron from leaving her body.” The leader did as he was asked and activated his Stand. Prosciutto stood in the corner of the room waiting for commands from Melone, Risotto used his stand until the purple haired man was finally able to sew up the wound.

After many hours the job was finally completed. Your body was cleaned of dried blood and all the cuts were bandaged up. Risotto slipped off his coat and very gently moved you into it. He had a feeling you would be upset if you woke up and were indecent. Melone cleaned up the room and put away the remaining medical supplies.

Risotto, Melone and Prosciutto left the room. They walked into the hallway and saw all the other men at their feet. They all stood up and faced Melone.

“Y/N is still unconscious. She was badly injured on her mission but we do not know how. Once she wakes we will figure out what happened. For now she just needs to rest. I fixed her up better than any doctor could, I promise you all she’ll be fine.”

The men all let out a sigh in relief. “Can we go see her,” Formaggio asked.

Melone shrugged. “I need to watch over her for the night to make sure nothing bad happens. If you wanted to I suppose you could stay in the room too. But you must be quiet.”

“I’ll spend the night with her too,” Prosciutto said. There was no way he was going to leave you alone in your current state.

“Ok! Does anyone else want to stay with us,” Melone asked.

“I do,” the whole group said in unison. They might be a group of deadly assassins but there was no denying how much they loved and cared for their teammates.

Melone let out a small laugh. “I’m afraid the room is too small for that.” Seems like Melone forget his friends are stubborn as all hell and don’t take no for an answer.

So everyone stuffed themselves into the room. Most of them laid on the floor. Only ones in chairs were Melone, Prosciutto and Risotto. Everyone tried their best to stay awake but it was so late at night and the stress had token a lot out of them. Even the three boys in chairs were beginning to get sleepy. Eventually everyone fell asleep except for Prosciutto. One of the most lovable qualities about Prosciutto is his will power. For a split second he heard a whine that sounded like yours. His eyes snapped open and he jumped out of his chair. He ran to your bedside.

“Y/N? Y/N are you awake,” Prosciutto asked desperately. There was no response. He felt tears prick his eyes. Was he really so in love with you that now he’s hearing your voice in his head?

“Where….. where am I,” you asked in a weak voice. The biggest smile appeared on Prosciutto face. You were alive, you were ok. “Your awake….” he cried loudly.

At the sound of the sudden commotion the whole team woke up. Illuso turned on the lamp next to him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Di Molto she’s ok,” Melone exclaimed. He ran up next to you. The rest of the team sprung up along with him to come see you.

“Don’t scare us like that,” Ghiaccio said. The whole team was very happy to see you awake. They began asking you questions left and right and trying to talk to you.

Prosciutto noticed how confused you looked. “Everyone get out. Y/N needs some time to collect her bearings.”

The whole team grumbled but did as they were told. “Feel better Y/N,” you heard Formaggio yell before he got the door slammed on him.

You tried to sit up but Prosciutto quickly stopped you. “Don’t do that, you could hurt yourself more.”

You hummed and refused to look him in the eyes. This was so embarrassing. You got so hurt you passed out and caused all of your friends to worry about you.

“Y/N, what happened on the mission,” Prosciutto finally asked.

“There was a Stand User and a group of men with him. His Stand nullified all Stand attacks. I just had to fight with my fists. They all had knives...”

Prosciutto sighed. It was no secret that you were the weakest of the group physically. You could handle one person of your size but nothing else. He should’ve been the one to go on that mission. Prosciutto was fairly strong and had perfect aim with his gun, if he was on the mission it would’ve been finished in no time.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know you tried your best. From now on we’ll always send you out with a partner. You can be with me and Pesci, no one will hurt you then. At least those fucking bastards are killed now.”

You gulped. “A-about that….” You felt tears forming in your eyes. “I failed the mission, I couldn’t kill the target.”

Prosciutto eyes went wide. What? How did you fail a mission? That’s never happened and he was sure it never would. “Are you saying that those men who hurt you are still out there alive?”

You sadly nodded. “Prosciutto please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to the team and you.”

He patted your head. “Dolcezza, I’m not mad at you.” He gave you a loving smile and kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back, stay here.”

The nickname and the kiss left you too flustered to do anything. Your crush just kissed you and acted like it was nothing!

While you flipped out over the kiss Prosciutto was angrily stomping to the main room. He slammed open the door. The boys looked to him and asked what happened.

“Their still alive. Y/N couldn’t finish the mission. The sick assholes who hurt my girl are still out there. Get them.”

The team usually takes their orders from Risotto. Prosciutto has never sent anyone on a mission. Right now though things were different.

Risotto stood up. “I’ll go.” Ghiaccio stood up too. “I’m coming with you. I don’t want any of those mother fuckers to be alive by the end of the night.”

Prosciutto was very happy that those two men were going. He knew they would give the target what they deserved. The blond headed back to your room and the other members waited for their turn to see you.

He saw you crying. “No no, don’t cry Bella. I promise you no one is upset with you.”

You choked on your sobs. “But I heard yelling and doors slamming.”

He grabbed your hand and gently rubbed it. “They were just excited to get their revenge on the people who hurt you, that’s all.”

Prosciutto had never been this gentle with anyone ever. He was treating you like a glass that could be broken at any minute.

You couldn’t fight the blush that was creeping onto your face. Prosciutto noticed it and gave you another kiss. “I’m very proud of you Y/N, as a teammate and as your lover.” For the rest of the night Prosciutto never once left your side. He was going to be there for you no matter what.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #ghiaccio #melone #melone x reader #formaggio #pesci #illuso #risotto nero #jjba x reader #my writing

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