#TEXT THAT MAKES ME STOP IN MY TRACKS AND FEEL LIKE I NEED TO APOLOGISE TO MY OC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thealtoduck · 10 months

Text

Homesick

Dick Grayson x BatCat!Bro Reader (Platonic)

Batfamily x BatCat!Bro Reader

Warnings: semi-angst, reader is sad and gets pissed off, fluff ending…

BatCat!Bro: Masterlist

Summary: Reader is sad because he misses his mom…

——

Dick was worried, something seemed off with you. At first he just thought you were being a regular teenager going through his angsty phase. But soon he realised there was more too it than that.

The family was having dinner and were sat around the large dining table. Dick was sat beside you and noticed you weren’t eating you were just looking down on it picking at it with your fork. Dick leaned closer to you and whispered ”Hey Y/n, you feeling alright?”.

You looked at Dick with a small smile and said a quick ”Yeah, I’m fine, just not hungry”. Then it was quiet for a while, until Jason said ”Come on, Y/n, eat something”. ”I said i’m not hungry” you said getting slightly irretated .

”Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed” Stephanie commented making you roll your eyes. ”Or he’s starting his moody teenager phase” Tim added which was the last straw as you angrily got up from the table and left. Dick looked at Jason, Stephanie and Tim and asked ”Really?” as the three looked confused. Damian then asked ”Can someone pass me the salt?” as if nothing happened.

Later that night Dick came up to Y/n’s room check on him, he also brought a plate of food, incase he had gotten hungry. The door was half open when he stopped outside and Dick asked ”Y/n? Can i come in?”… No answer came.

Dick slowly entered his bedroom to see it was completely empty. He looked around and saw that a window was open, there was some dirt on the window frame. Dick immediately went downstairs to the others and asked ”Has anyone seen Y/n?”.

”Not since dinner” Jason said as the others shook their heads or uttered a quick ”no”. Dick hurried outside yelling ”Y/n!”… Again no answer. Dick went inside told the others to start checking around the manor. Then he went and got his jacket and car keys and got in to his car.

Dick took out his phone and tried calling but no one picked up, so he called Bruce and asked him to track your phone. Then he got a text from Bruce saying ”He’s in the east end” and he drove off. A couple of minutes later he got another text from Bruce saying ”He’s in his old apartment”.

Dick stopped outside and went in to the building and looked until he found your old apartment. He knocked and heard footsteps inside and then the door unlocked. It opened slowly revealing Y/n. ”Dick, what are you doing here?” he asked in a saddened tone.

”Really? You leave home without telling anyone you’re leaving or where you’re going and expect us not to worry?” Dick scolded. ”I’m sorry” you apologised. Dick then asked ”What are you doing here anyway?”. ”Come inside” you said without answering the question.

Dick did as told and entered the apartment. It was dusty like someone hadn’t lived here for a while. He saw a vaccum cleaner in the living room as if you were in the middle of cleaning up the place. Dick sent a quick text to Bruce and the others saying he had found you.

”You want anything? Coffee? Tea?” you asked as you went in to the kitchen. ”Sure some tea would be nice” Dick answered as he looked around the place. He saw a room that was lit and went inside to check it out.

It was a bedroom, it had was decorated with posters, pictures, etc… ”Y/n was this your room?” Dick asked as you appeared behind him. ”Yeah” you said simply. ”You know i haven’t decorated my room in the manor, cause i thought that soon enough i’d be back here with mom” you explained.

You then turned walked back to the kitchen to pour up two cups of tea. You then brought them to the living room and sat down on the couch as Dick then joined you. ”It’s been over a year since she left and i’ve seen her once for 20 minutes” you told Dick and took a sip of tea.

He didn’t even need to ask to know that you were talking about Selina. ”I’m sorry” Dick said putting a supportive hand on your shoulder. ”The worst part is, I don’t even know if she’s alive or not, she could’ve been dead for months and i wouldn’t know” you told him.

”I’m sorry if i worried you guys but i just needed to come here and… feel… feel like i was home, as if mom would be climbing through the window at any moment to show me what she scored tonight” you continued.

”Don’t get me wrong, i love living at the manor with everyone but part of me wishes she took me with her just so i could know if she’s safe” you finished as a single tear was running down your cheek. Dick brought you in to a hug and whispered and understanding ”I get it”.

”How about we sleep here tonight and we can do whatever you and your mom used to do here together? Okay?” Dick suggested with a gentle smile. You smiled and nodded and the two of you, made popcorn and watched a movie together. Then you went to bed, letting Dick sleep on the couch.

In the morning you packed some stuff from your room in to a backpack as you and Dick were about to leave. As you put you shoes on Dick said ”If you want, you can come back here whenever you want. Just let us know first, i’ll even give you a ride and stay with you if you want me too”.

After those words you pulled Dick in to a tight hug, which sort off suprised him, you like Damian wasn’t known to be very affectionate. ”Thanks Dick, that means a lot” you said and the two of you left the apartment.

When you got in to Dick’s car you got a notification on your phone. It was a text from the same unknown number your mother had used before when contacting you. It read ”Don’t worry my little kitten, i’ll be back soon. Love you”. Just then Dick drove off back to the manor.

#batfamily x male reader #batfam x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics x male reader #batfam x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #batboys x male reader #batcatbro reader #batcatbro male reader #selina kyle x son reader #selina kyle x son!reader #bruce wayne x son reader #bruce wayne x son!reader #dick grayson x brother!reader

508 notes · View notes

alienguts · 9 months

Text

Kintsugi (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce takes Y/N out for lunch to make up for his moping.

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of breakups, feelings and shit

Request?: sort of, a few people asked for a sequel so here we are

A/N: I haven't been writing a whole lot recently because I had a lot of work and study related things to do, but that's now over and I have a five day weekend ahead of me so I can finally get things done!

1 - Picking Up the Pieces | 2 - Kintsugi | 3 - Stay with Me

Bruce had lost track of how many times he’d looked at his watch in the past hour while sitting alone in the cafe. Y/N did say that she would be running late, but he didn’t think she meant this late. He decided to wait another twenty minutes before texting to see where she was.

Is this what being stood up feels like? Bruce wondered, thinking back to the numerous times he’d skipped out on meetings and dates for other commitments. His mind couldn’t help but drift back to the times he’d stood Y/N up for other commitments, whether that was work at Wayne Enterprises, the Batsignal, or another woman.

Guilt washed over him as he remembered how disappointed she’d been when he turned down her offers to hang out, not noticing when she was in need of a friend or for him to be more than a friend. He’d never realised how lonely she was and had always tried to push the sad look in her eyes from his mind, but he’d been so blinded by love - no, lust, desperation - to see that she was the one who’d supported him this whole time, who truly understood him and knew what his soul looked like.

He was just about to leave when the door clicked open and a rush of footsteps approached him. Bruce looked up from his phone, about to text Y/N when he saw her standing in front of her, her hair a mess from the wind and her shoulders shuddering with each breath.

“I tried to get here as fast as I could,” she said between pants. “There was an accident a few blocks down so I had to take a detour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said, smiling softly as he stood up to greet her. “I’ve been late for everything so it gives me a taste of my own medicine.”

Y/N let out a huge sigh of relief and took the chair across the table from Bruce, sinking into it as her muscles relaxed again. She briefly looked around at their surroundings, feeling a little out of place in the cafe Bruce had picked. She was used to frequenting diners and Starbucks rather than the grand patisseries that Bruce could afford.

“I already ordered for us,” Bruce said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Y/N said, smiling at him. “You always know what I like anyway.”

His heart fluttered when she smiled at him. It felt like something that had been missing his whole life but had been there the whole time.

If only he hadn’t been so foolish not to see it.

Their lunch date was just like old times: two old friends talking about how their lives had been and what they were planning to do later on in the week. It was as if they’d never been apart, as if Bruce had never taken Y/N’s friendship for granted. He’d pretty much forgotten about the events of the night before and he’d almost forgotten about Selina. Almost.

That wound in his heart wasn’t likely to heal any time soon, and rushing into something with Y/N wouldn’t be fair for her. He needed time to grieve the relationship and piling all of that onto her would be a bad start to a new relationship. Especially one with his oldest and best friend.

“Y/N,” he started after an extended quiet moment. “I wanted to apologise to you.”

“What for?” Y/N asked, stopping as she reached for her cup.

“For taking you for granted for all this time.”

Y/N shot him a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“Every time I went through a rough patch in a relationship or a breakup, I would always come running to you for comfort,” Bruce said, keeping eye contact with her so she could see how sincere he was. “But I never did the same for you. Whenever you needed someone to be there for you, I wasn’t.”

“Maybe I didn’t need someone to be there for me,” Y/N said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Yes, but a true friend would drop everything for a friend who needs them. And I’m sorry that I was never there for you.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, I understand why you can’t always be around whenever I’m moping.”

“But I should be,” Bruce said, drawing the attention of some of the other diners around them. “I should be there for you because you’re always there for me. I feel like I’ve taken advantage of you and I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Y/N said, her voice quiet as she looked down at the table. “I cried so much when you left last night. I felt like I was stuck in this endless loop of you breaking up with someone and coming to cry on my shoulder before going off to the next one.”

And I want to be the next one, she stopped herself from saying. Her throat felt thick like she’d swallowed a spoonful of molasses and couldn’t get it to go down. She wanted to tell Bruce how she felt about him, but not right in the middle of a cafe and not when he’d just been left at the altar. It would probably eat her up inside until she felt the time was right, but she’d endure it. Even if that meant waiting years for Bruce to be ready to love again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her back to the room with him. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I want to be a better friend to you and I’m going to be a better friend.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, Bruce excused himself from the table to pay for the cheque. A single tear spilt from her eye once he was far away enough for her to not notice and was quickly wiped away with a napkin. This wasn’t how she had hoped the afternoon to go, and she was sure it wasn’t how Bruce wanted it to go either. After making sure she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tears, she gathered her things and joined Bruce at the counter who was ready to go.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when she approached him. She just nodded in reply. “We should get going.”

Bruce drove Y/N home and walked her up to her apartment, keeping close to her every step. His fingers brushed against hers occasionally, sending sparks up his arm and making his body run warm. They walked up the stairs to her floor in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only sound until they reached Y/N’s apartment and she fished her keys out of her pocket.

“Lunch didn’t end the way we’d hoped, huh?” Bruce said, trying to lighten the mood. “I really am sorry. About yesterday. And today.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “You’ve been hurt, you probably haven’t been thinking clearly.”

“Thanks for understanding, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said in response before stepping forward to hug him.

Bruce eagerly accepted her hug, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and resting his cheek on the top of her head. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and the perfume that he knew she always dabbed behind her ears and let himself relax into her body. Hugging Y/N felt natural to him, but for some reason, it felt even more natural now. Like she was home and was welcoming him back to her after being away for so long.

Without thinking, he shifted his head to softly kiss the top of her head and let his lips linger before she moved away from him. She looked at him wide-eyed, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her response before letting her gaze move down to his lips. Her chest rose and fell as her heartbeat sped up and Bruce moved one of his hands from her back to her face, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek and moving to gently hold her jaw. Just as he leaned his face into hers, her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted, waiting for him to make contact.

She felt his forehead against hers first, then his nose brush against hers before he softly captured her lips. Her heart skipped a beat before she relaxed into him, returning his kiss. It was gentle and chaste, but exactly what she’d wanted for years. And all it took was the man she’d loved her whole life getting left at the altar by her rival in love.

The kiss was over just as soon as it had begun. Bruce had pulled away from her just enough to still feel his breath on her skin, his hands still on her but full of restless energy. She knew he would have to go but she just wanted one more minute of feeling like he was hers.

“I should get going now,” Bruce said, his voice soft and quiet. “Alfred will be wondering why I’m taking so long.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said as she let him move away from her. “Um, we should do this again soon.”

No, it’s too soon, Y/N, she told herself.

“Y’know, when you’re ready, of course,” she added quickly. Bruce smiled at her and took her hand.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he said warmly. “I told you, I want to make up the past ten years to you.”

“I’d like that,” she said as she opened her apartment door behind her and slowly backed into it. “So, see you soon?”

“See you soon,” Bruce said and watched her go before making his way down the hall and stairs and back to his car.

Once the door had closed, Y/N again slid down against it, this time in triumph rather than sorrow. It was too early to know for sure, but she knew that she didn’t have to live in dread of Bruce blowing her off for some other fling again. She finally knew what it was like to be close to him, to have him kiss her, even if it was so briefly. Her fingers drifted up to her lip, still tingling from his kiss as if she couldn’t believe that it had happened. But it had, and hopefully, it would happen many more times in the future.

249 notes · View notes

bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

There Was Someone In Your Room

Moodboard made by me

Pairing || Dark!Stalker!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || For weeks now, you hadn’t felt safe. You felt like you were being watched—out in public and now, in the comfort of your home. It was only a feeling, but after having a terrifying hands-on experience, you knew you were dealing with a stalker.

Word Count || 1264

Contents & Warnings || Angst, Smut, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, somnophilia, explicit content/language, inappropriate sexual touches, break in, stalker/obsessive behaviour.

Authors Note || I wrote this in a day so I’m sorry if it’s not the best! And the summary is also terrible I’m sorry!

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Stalker!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

You stumbled out of the bar with your girlfriends, laughing and giggling together as you were all pretty tipsy. It was late, way past 1 AM, and it was time to go home after a fun evening out with them.

“Oh, girls,” you hugged them all goodbye since you were going in the opposite direction, “I had so much fun tonight!”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to follow you home? It’s no hassle.” One of them offered.

The others nodded along eagerly. They all knew how uncomfortable you had been the recent weeks in feeling like someone was watching you.

As much as you would love for them to accompany you, it was only a 5-minute walk back to your apartment, and the road was pretty lit up, so you politely declined. You could manage on your own, and besides, you had to try and get over the unpleasant feeling of being watched because it was most likely all in your head.

“I’m sure. Really, I’ll be fine.”

You gave them a brave smile, but they still eyed you to see if there were any hints of hesitation.

“Ok, but be sure to text us if anything happens! Anything at all.”

“I will. Good night.”

You waved goodbye, and then you went your separate ways. A minute in, you sent them an update that, so far, everything was ok.

But after two more minutes, the road was dark. The streetlamps had gone out, making it almost impossible to see anything. The complete darkness was distressing—having your brain conjure up terrifying sounds and illusions.

The clang of a can being kicked was heard from across the street, making you stop dead in your tracks as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your heart was pounding hard in your chest while your whole body screamed danger!

Across the road, you swore you could see the silhouette of a broad man standing… waiting… watching…

You were petrified, unable to move as your whole body trembled in fear. But you had to get moving—not wanting to be the victim of any gruesome crime.

You texted your friends while you walked fast the remaining way to your apartment building—unlocking the entrance and sprinting up the stairs until you got to the fourth floor and into your apartment, locking the door behind you and checking the peephole to be sure that no one had managed to follow you.

You exhaled a breath of relief when you were in the clear. You texted them back, saying you had arrived home safely. They offered to drop by your place if you didn’t feel like being alone, but you declined. There was no need now that you were in your apartment on the fourth floor.

As you got ready for bed, you went over the event in your head. Maybe you’d overreacted? The combination of the alcohol and darkness probably overstimulated your senses, making you see and hear things that weren’t even there. Yeah, that must be it. There was no real danger; it was all in your head.

But just in case, you searched every nook and cranny of your apartment, ensuring every door and window were locked, checking every closet and underneath every surface. You just wanted peace of mind when you went to bed, and it was better to be safe than to be murdered by a serial killer in your sleep, right?

You read your book in bed for a while, wanting to get something else on your mind. When the clock on your nightstand read 02:23 AM, you put the book to the side and wrapped the comforter tightly around yourself; it didn’t take long after you closed your eyes to drift asleep.

“O-oh, please m-more.”

You begged the man between your legs. His lips ghosted the skin of your stomach as his fingers ran up your thighs, making goosebumps erupt on the surface. He was teasing and toying with you. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair and direct him to your aching core that begged for attention, but you couldn’t move—completely paralysed as his lips continued ghosting up your torso.

“I-I need you.”

His face approached yours, and the aching need turned into fear as you examined the man's face. You could see features on it—eyes, nose and lips, but his face was hazy and unclear—making him look sinister and terrifying. This was no man you knew; it was an unknown monster. This was no pleasant dream; it was a nightmare.

You tried to toss away from him, but to no use; you were stuck. You tried to scream, but it felt like you were choking.

“God, you’re so beautiful. Mine, all mine.”

His voice was eerie and profound as he whispered in your ear; a gust of his breath fanned your face while his fingers brushed your temple. It made you tense up as tears pooled in your eyes, and your fight or flight mode kicked in, although you couldn’t do either.

“S-stop!”

You gasped loudly as you woke up from the nightmare. All panicked as your breathing was ragged, your heart beating hard in your chest, and a thin layer of sweat coated your skin. It took you a few seconds to orient yourself—you were at home, in your bed, and you just had a nightmare. It was over now; you were safe, right?

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand; it read 03:36 AM. The comforter was on the floor, exposing your body to the room’s cold air. It may be possible that you removed it during your sleep, but it didn’t feel right; something was wrong.

Your nightmare had felt unbelievable real. You could feel the heat of fingers that had run across your thighs—the unpleasant tingle of lips ghosting your skin. The words spoken by the man rang in your ear, like they had been uttered right into them in the waking world. It made you shiver in fear that you may not be alone in your room after all.

You heard some shuffling across the room, in the most darkened corner. Glancing over, you swore there was someone there—watching you. Your eyes still hadn’t adjusted themselves quite yet, but you could see the same silhouette of the man from earlier.

“I-is there s-someone there?” You shrieked.

You turned on your bedside lamp, preparing yourself to be met with a perverted killer and fight for your life, but when the faint light illuminated the room, you saw there was nothing there.

“O-oh, phew.”

Now, you could finally relax and breathe normally, knowing it was all in your imagination.

But why was it so cold? It felt like a breeze from outside was entering the room. And that’s when you saw it; your window was wide open. Not possible? You made sure it was closed and locked before going to bed.

You got your phone, ready to call 911, and walked over to the window to check it out. You knew it was stupid, but you had to close it.

Looking down at the back alley, your stomach dropped, and you felt like throwing up when you saw a man jumping down from the fire escape. Someone had been in your room! Someone had been touching you in your sleep!

The man turned around and looked up at you standing in the window. A sinister smirk came to his face, and that’s when you saw it clearly—it was the charming man you’d run into at the bar a few weeks prior…

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

1K notes · View notes

jenniferjareauwife · 6 days

Text

I'm Sorry

pairing: maya bishop x fem reader

category: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

word count: 663

request: May i please request Maya bishop x reader,, Reader finds Maya breaking down in the stations bathroom (r is mayas ex and is also a firefighter who changed to night shift so that she wasn't working with maya). She gets in, fully clothed, and holds Maya. (Maya broke up with r like 3 months earlier or something, maya then shows up at rs apartment to apologise.)

summary: request above

I sighed as I took off my jacket. I already knew it was gonna be a long shift just based on the mood I was in when I woke up. I wanted to just go straight to my bunk and sleep until we got a call.

That was until I heard sobbing from a nearby shower. That's weird. I thought I was the first one here. Maybe it was someone from A Shift? "Hughes?" No answer. "Herrera?" Also no answer. There was only one other girl on A Shift. My heart clenched at the thought of her crying. "Maya?"

"Y/n." She sobbed. My heart broke. That was her. I immediately pulled back the shower curtain, looking down at her. She had her knees pulled up to her chest as tears flowed down her face.

"Maya what's wrong?" I knelt down in front of her, holding her tightly in my arms. She didn't say anything, just sobbed while holding me as tight as she could. "I'm here. It's ok. Just let it all out." I stroked her hair while rubbing her back with my other hand.

Ten minutes passed and she had calmed down a good amount. I still held her in my arms though. I knew it used to make her feel safe and that's what she needed right now. "I should go." She said.

"Well what's wrong-"

"Nothing is wrong, ok?"

"Maya-"

"Just let me go y/n." She sounded defeated. "I'm sorry you had to see this...I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

"Maya it's ok-"

"Goodbye y/n." All I could do was watch her leave.

When I got home I debated on calling Maya. Maybe she would talk about it now? She never wanted to talk about anything. She always shut people out. The only person she would talk to about her problems was me, and we weren't together anymore. I wanted to be a support system for her if she needed it. She deserved it.

As soon as I got my phone out to send a text my doorbell rang. That was weird. I never invited people over. I like my me time. I opened the door with my brows furrowed, stopping in my tracks once I saw that it was Maya. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize for what? Crying in the shower? One, you already apologized for that and two, you don't need to apologize for crying." I had told her that a million times. I was hoping by now I would've drilled that into her head but I guess not.

"No...I actually wanted to apologize for breaking up with you." She never broke eye contact with me.

"Oh."

"I was just...in a really bad place mentally and I know that's no excuse for hurting you but...I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't handle my feelings well and I'm trying to recover and I'm trying to mend relationships that I messed up...so this is me doing that with you."

"So are you just apologizing or do you want something else too?" I wanted to get back together, I really did. But I didn't want her to know how badly I wanted her. She had hurt me but I knew she didn't mean to.

"I...I do love you y/n." She sighed. "I really do. And I would love it if we could get back together and I understand if that's not something you want to do-" I cut her off with a kiss.

When I pulled away she rested her forehead against mine, smiling up at me. "I'm sorry." I could barely hear her that time but I knew what she meant.

"It's ok. I just want you to know that you're never going to have to go through anything else alone again." I stroked her cheeks, wiping away her tears. "I love you with my whole heart."

"I love you too."

#maya bishop #station 19 #x reader #wlw post #lgbtq

11 notes · View notes

lucy90712 · 2 years

Text

Alex Marquez- Team member

No one prepares you for just how overwhelming it is when you go into your first job after graduating from university and believe me it is very overwhelming especially when you go right into one of the jobs you dreamed about having since you were little. That is exactly what I have done, I worked tirelessly for years to get my engineering degree focusing heavily on motorbikes and have managed to get myself a job in the MotoGP paddock as an engineer for LCR Honda which is a dream come true. I've always loved motorbikes and MotoGP so being able to work there is just so cool and feels like all the effort I put in to do well was worth it.

I arrived at the track yesterday and since then I don't think I've stopped for more than 5 minutes at once as I have had meetings to go to about plans and other things I don't understand because its not my department. There has also been a lot of induction type things to do like working with the other engineers so that they can explain exact things that I need to know about the bike that are different to the others I've worked on before. It's crazy to think that it's only Thursday and no one has been out on track yet and I'm already so busy while also kind of not having done a whole lot I mean I haven't even met who I'm working for yet which should happen today.

My alarm went off at 5:30 am which was not fun at all and I wished I hadn't set it then although I will be thanking myself later when I get a head start on my work and aren't in a rush by 6:30. All of my team clothes were hanging up in my small closet in the hotel everyone was staying at staring at me putting a smile on my face. I got ready and took a picture to send to my parents back home because I know they would have loved to be here for my first proper day and see me in my uniform. We were meant to have a team breakfast all together but that didn't go to plan and not that many people went because everyone was busy with something but I got to meet a few more people all of them being older than me and men, that is the one thing I don't like about this job is that I feel like I don't fit in as everyone else is an older man.

Everyone left to make their way to the track which is when I realised that getting there for me was going to be an issue because I don't have a car nor can I speak good enough Spanish to communicate with a taxi driver plus they wouldn't be allowed into the circuit anyway. I attempted to text some of the people I have met to see if they could help me but all of them had left which wasn't helpful but eventually my team boss told me he had asked someone to meet me in the lobby which I thanked him for. I waited in the lobby looking out for someone until a guy came through and started walking towards me, for a moment I couldn't see his face but as soon as I did I recognised him right away. It was Alex Marquez like the actual Alex Marquez the guy I have been watching race and been a fan of for years and thats when it hit me that I would be working for him which was just so weird to think about. He took me right out of my thoughts by talking to me.

"Are you y/n?" He asked

"Yes I am" I replied

"I'm Alex although I imagine you probably know that already but you're the new engineer right" he checked

"Yeah thats me sorry about all this I don't have my car with me and everyone else left" I apologised

"No need to worry I've been meaning to introduce myself anyway" he said

We got in his car and right away he started asking questions about me to get to know me better and was even very complimentary about how well I must be doing to get the job I have at such a young age which felt so nice to hear it kind of made me feel like I belonged a bit more. He was so nice to me which I knew he would be but the thing with famous people is you never know if they will act like they do on camera in real life but he definitely does he may even be nicer in person than he's comes across online.

Once we got to the circuit he dropped me off by the garage so that I could start working but not before giving me a hug to say goodbye and I got to thank him for the ride for the millionth time. I can't lie there was a slight blush on my face when I entered the garage and I knew this because there was a mirror on the wall and I saw myself in it quickly before I walked away not wanting to acknowledge the fact that I was crushing slightly on the guy I pretty much work for. It is such a me thing to do to develop a crush on someone after knowing them for a day but this time it's a bit worse because technically I do work for Alex and although he isn't my boss it feels wrong to like him in that way.

Fp1 went by pretty quickly and things were looking good although Alex wanted to change a few things on the bike so I worked on that along with a few others but most of it was left to me because they were seeing exactly what I can do even though the changes are pretty basic. As much as this testing was annoying and kind of patronising it meant I got to work on the bike which is what I'm here to do. Working also helped me to forgot about the fact that Alex was walking around the garage with his leathers unzipped although it was alway in the back of my mind as I was working.

When the bike was ready to go it was the lunch break so I got to relax for a bit before its back to work for fp2. I'm still not very close with anyone in the team so I kind of ate lunch by myself with headphones in mainly just to get a break from the chaos because I'm not used to it yet so it is a little overwhelming. I was just looking at my phone and texting some friends back home when I saw movement right in front of me which made me look up just out of curiosity and standing there was Alex with a smile on his face.

"Is it alright if I sit with you?" He asked

"Yeah of course" I replied

He sat down in front of me so I took out my headphones and put my phone away so that we could talk. I was also smiling so much at the fact that he chose to spend his break with me out of everything he could be doing it really made me feel good about myself. The two of us talked the whole time getting to know each other more and Alex helped me to feel like I do fit in here and even thanked me for all the work I did on the bike.

After lunch we walked out together and only parted always when we got to the garage as I had to prep the bike and he had to put his leathers on but I went back to work with a new found motivation and all the stress I was feeling was pretty much gone instead I felt good about myself. I worked on a few things before the practice started but this time it was more of a team effort which is all I've wanted the rest of the time, having everything be a test and having a million eyes on you makes things so much harder.

Practice was going really well until the bike slid out from under Alex in a corner and he went sliding into the gravel. When I first saw the crash my heart rate started going so quickly but when he got up afterwards it calmed down and my brain got in gear to make sure the second bike was ready to go. It was a little chaotic doing that as everyone is trying to set things up in such a short amount of time but I got freed when the other bike arrived back as I started working to fix everything that was broken which luckily was mostly just the fairing and not too much internal stuff. Alex came back and hopped on his second bike almost right away but he did check in with his crew chief and sent me a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

Over the past few days I have spent a lot of time with Alex in breaks and after everything is over each day he invites me to hangout with him in his motorhome. It has been so much fun getting to spend time with him and even though my friends are telling me he's just doing it to be nice I don't believe them he just seems so genuine. We have become super close over the last few days and no one is treating me like the newbie anymore because of my friendship with Alex which is great because being treated like a child is just annoying.

Now it's race day so there is a whole new set of things to be thinking about and working on before its go time. We are in a meeting to talk though plans and look at a bunch of data which has always been my least favourite part of engineering but luckily thats not really my job here. The talk started with settings and things before we moved onto tyres which is when we had a lot of data to look at and that is the one set of data I had studied myself because I always heard about it when watching MotoGP and was curious. From what the other engineers were suggesting it seemed that Alex would end up dropping back at the end of the race because of wear but from what I had read if we went for the medium front and rear things would be a bit better just pushing on the first lap might be a little harder but from what I could gather things would work out.

"I suggest we go both mediums because it will wear less than the soft the only thing is pushing on the first couple laps may be a little harder but looking at lap times I think it should be all ok and we can make up any lost positions quickly" I said

"Yeah you have a point do you have that data?" Someone asked

I handed them the notes I had which were then passed around the room for everyone to study just incase I somehow got something wrong even though I know all of it is just from the timing sheets and my own words to explain it to myself later.

"I think I want to go with the mediums I'm prepared to fight after the first few laps and I think most others will do the same so the loss hopefully won't be too bad" Alex said

We finished the meetings and I felt so accomplished because it was my suggestion that was picked and I know no one believed what I said until they read it. Eventually these people will learn not to underestimate me and my ability but I know it will be a slow process although I think we are off to a good start.

Race time came around so very quickly that it felt like we had been working on the bike for 5 minutes even though it was more like a few hours. I was asked to go out onto the grid with the start up device which has always been one of my dreams because the atmosphere of the grid just seems like something you can't experience anywhere else other than right there. It was even better than I could have imagined there might be a lot of people around but I was just focused on my job and then on Alex when I got to talk to him before the warm up lap and go over a few quick things but also wish him luck.

Back in the garage there wasn't much for me to be doing other than watching the screen to see what was going on and my point was quickly proven when after a few laps Alex started making up places pretty quickly. Things were going so well until he went sliding out of his position and towards the gravel, he tried to save it but it wasn't going to happen. This time I wasn't as scared for Alex but more myself because if it's the tyres that caused him to crash I'm so dead and all the progress I've made to be trusted this weekend is just ruined. Everyone was gutted but I was nervous waiting for Alex to come back to the garage and talk to the team. He arrived and everyone checked he was ok before listening to what he and to say about what happened.

"Was it the tyres?" Someone asked clearly trying to make it my fault he crashed

"No not the tyres they were good they had a lot of grip I just went too wide I think and just lost it sorry guys" he said

I was beyond relieved that it wasn't my fault but I was also sad that the race ended the way it did it's never what anyone wants but sometimes it happens. Poor Alex seemed so upset and angry with himself and it definitely didn't help that Marc was in second because as much as he was happy for him but he hates letting his brother down by crashing even though Marc is proud of him no matter what. I wanted to check in with him but I had to do my job and work on the bike but again not much was broken there was just a lot of gravel everywhere. While I was working someone tapped me on the back so I turned round to see Lucio Checchinello the team boss standing there, I've never talk with him before so it freaked me out a bit to see him there.

"Y/n would you go and talk with Alex about the race he hasn't given much information and you two seem close?" He asked

"Of course I will" I replied

It was a little weird to me that he asked me to go especially when Alex's crew chief is probably much closer to him and knows how to go about this but I guess I'll figure it out. I knocked on the door to his trailer and after hearing him say come in from through it I opened the door and went to sat next to him on the sofa. He still looked very disappointed and I could tell that there was something going through his mind that he wasn't telling anyone.

"I can tell something is bothering you if you want to tell me I'm here to listen" I said

"It was going so well and I felt confident and I made a stupid mistake trying to overtake where I knew I wasn't close enough and that's why I crashed" he explained

"That's ok everyone makes mistakes sometimes I'm sure everyone has done that before don't blame yourself it's just one of those things" I reassured

"I know and I'm sorry y/n I wanted to do well for you to show that you are a good engineer but I messed up" he said

"No don't be sorry you don't need to worry about me I can prove myself eventually the last thing I want is you feeling bad about crashing because of me" I said

"I can't help it I really like you probably in a way that I shouldn't and I want you to stick around and not leave because you don't feel welcome" he admitted

"I like you too" I managed to say despite the shock of his admission

"Oh thank goodness I regretted saying that for a minute there" he joked

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight as a date if you're ok with that?" He asked

"I would love that" I replied

#alex marquez #alex marquez fluff #MotoGP #motogp fluff #motogp one shots #motogp imagines

6 notes · View notes

finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

hiii ! could you write something about harry stalking y/n's Instagram but her account is private, so he sends a request and she accepts and she follows him back, and harry likes her pics (which aren't many) and tries to find out if she do you have a boyfriend or something?

this might be quite short but i hope this is alright for you;

“What’s the correct reaction I should use when Harry Styles requests to follow me?”

You asked your best friend, Heather, as you were both lounging on your bed. She was sat up against the headboard and you lay the opposite way around, holding you phone to the ceiling.

It was just another simple day for the two of you. You’d worked a long shift at the local supermarket and Heather had worker her long shift at the cat shelter, both of you now just having some down time to relax and regroup your thoughts before you even thought to start on dinner. Heather, your best friend and roommate, was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen which meant you were often the one to cook dinner. Tonight was shrimp risotto, if you could be bothered to get out of bed to actually make it. However you were no grounded to your bed more than ever, shocked with the current notification staring you square in the eyes.

“Why?” Heather laughed at you, not noticing your heavily serious face to your question, “you having your daily dreams over the man again?”

Okay, you didn’t have daily dreams… Nightly dreams, maybe. You had liked Harry for a while actually, perhaps since he had cut his hair for a movie he had done. You weren’t a huge fan of his and listened to his music occasionally - like when you were folding laundry or on a long train ride - but you weren’t dedicated to him. He was cute and his voice sounded really lovely. He was definitely the face you used in your nighttime scenarios, but you would never admit that out loud.

“No,” you briefly paused to find the right words to say, “because Harry Styles just requested to follow me.”

“You— What!” Heather sprung up from her position on the bed, but you stayed still and eyes fixed to your phone.

“Appropriate reaction?” You asked again, handing her your phone so she could see for herself.

“Um, ascending into heaven, I don’t know do I? The really question is why the fuck haven’t you accepted it?” She was quick to answer your question and even quicker to ask hers, looking at you as if you’d just told her you were born with only one tit.

“Maybe because it’s Harry Styles!” You exclaimed, sitting up and looking at her now the same way she had just done you.

“Babe, honey, that’s exactly why you need to accept him.” Tossing you back your phone you caught it as you looked to her. God, what was happening? You’d been stacking shelves at a supermarket 3 hours ago and now you were about to accept a follow request from Harry Styles - like the same man who you think about every night before bed and yet know barely anything about.

“Oh fuck it.” You clicked accept and then followed him back, switching your phone off and throwing it down onto the bed.

“Did you..”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Then you started to freak.

It hit you that Harry Styles could see all of your instagram photos - even the ones you were tagged in. Then you questioned whether he would even bother to stalk you? Was he that kind of person? How did he even find you in the first place? You had 489 followers to his near 50 million, so it’s not exactly like he just saw you appear in his notifications - you didn’t even follow him until 30 seconds ago. Let’s say he did see your photos, what would he see? For starters there’s the photos of you and your parents dogs and then just your parents. There’s you on the beach and you in the snow. There’s you with friends and still some posted of people you didn’t like anymore. It was okay.

“Do you think he’s wanking off to that picture of you in your lingerie?” Heather broke the silence.

“What?” You looked at her baffled by such a question.

“You know? The one you just posted like two days ago because it was body positivity week at the gym?”

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten about that photo and you scrambled quick for your phone. God, you couldn’t let Harry see you like that. You’d felt really, really, good when you’d posted it, dressed in your black lingerie from Victorias Secret, but now you were insecure that Harry could’ve looked at the photo and… well, vomited maybe?

“Oh no, no, no.” You repeated as you went back onto Instagram, only to freeze. “Holy fuck balls.”

If your mother heard the tone of your tongue from the past 5 minutes, she would have you strung up on her washing line by your toes. Okay not literally, but something similar.

“What? What’s happened?” Heather pressed, nosy to the current situation.

“He liked the photo.”

“He what?” Heather shouted, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my fuck he liked the photo.” You put the phone on the bed and got up off to stand up, pacing whilst your rubbed your hands over your stressed temples. “He liked the look.” You repeated to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

Harry Styles had seen a photo of you in your lingerie. That is not something you’d ever thought you’d ever say, but there’s the fact. Like he’d seen you - your body. You paced the length of your bedroom, completely in your own head wondering where you’d go in your life past this moment. Crawling under a heavy rock to live forever sounded pretty good right now though.

“Have you done freaking out yet?” Heather asked sarcastically, watching you pace with your phone in her hands.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Is this an acceptable reaction?” You stressed your hands through your hair and cupped your hand over your mouth in shock that this was genuinely happening.

“So I shouldn’t tell you that he’s also sent a direct message?” She asked rhetorically, making you stop wearing a track into your carpet.

“He…”

“Yeah.”

“Saying?”

“Do you want to sit down first or…” Heather asked, clearly concerned you weren’t handling this all very well.

“No. I’d rather just collapse afterwards.” You nodded your head, egging her to continue.

“Okay…” She rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the screen to start reading out the message. “Y/N—”

“Oh jesus.” You interrupted, clutching onto your desk chair as your legs went weak and you had to sit down. Heather laughed at you before continuing, her eyes lighting up as she skim read the message.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day. I hope you don’t find my follow request or liking of your photos too creepy or forward, it’s just I think you’re really beautiful and ever since I heard about you I just had to know who you were. If you don’t want to reply, that’s alright I understand, but if you would like to know me a bit more as I would like to get to know you then feel free to call me or just message back. If, however, you are already seeing someone I apologise for this message to both you and your partner. Wishing you all the best, H. x”

Breathe check. Yes, still breathing.

“Y/N?” Heather asked, noticing you were struck still.

“Okay…” You let out a shaky breathe, doing some internal meditation to try and calm the buzzing of nerves that were rushing throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?” Heather snapped you out of your attempt of peace. “What do you want to do now?”

“He called me beautiful.” You smiled at her she smiled back, happy that you were happy.

“He also said he had heard about you from somewhere?” Heather asked, having picked up on that important bit of information.

“And he wants to get to know me.”

“Yes, okay lover-woman, let’s focus here.”

“Right, yes. Focus.” You nodded your head, still in a dreamy daze.

“Should we call him?” Heather asked.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You threw your hands up in the air, which shocked you both. “Woah, sorry. Do you seriously think he’s going to want to listen to me paralysed at the lips? No.”

“So, text?”

“Text, yes.” You sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to her and draft a message back to the man who was about to change your life.

668 notes · View notes

bubsdolan · 3 years

Note

fratboy!gray having a shy nerdy girlfriend and at a party someone makes fun of her in front of grayson and he goes off on them for hurting his precious girls feelings ://

im a sucker for frat boy gray where he’s such a douche bag to everyone else but has a soft spot his girl 🥺

grayson knew parties weren't your scene, he knew you would much rather be wrapped up in the comfort on your own bed, book in hand and cup of tea steaming away on your bedside table as you escaped reality. quite frankly he would much rather join you than have to suffer another night of drinking, drugs and girls trying it on with him.

he only had eyes for one girl- you, and he made it well known to everyone on campus. you were his girl and you were not to be messed with. however, it seemed some people never understood the message.

after wearing you down and bribing you with kisses and cuddles and wanting to show off his girl to his brothers who had heard so much about you, you reluctantly agreed to attending the party. arriving later than the rest of party goers however, as you needed to finish up an essay that wasn’t due until the following week, but you always needed to be ahead of schedule. it was one of your many traits that made grayson fall even deeper in love with you.

it was your shyness that drew him to you in the first place. a trait you found annoying and often frustrated by, grayson found it endearing and adorable. he loved watching your cheeks flush red with heat whenever he complimented you or told you how much he loved you.

he found your ‘nerdiness’ precious and admirable, encouraging the so called heart throb and popular kid of campus to buckle down and focus more on his studies. he had you to thank, you kept grounded.

you threw on your most comfortable clothes, not one to show off your body or dress to impress anyone, deciding on grayson’s football jersey he had left at your house the night before, black leggings and a pair of vans. you took one last look in the mirror and reminded yourself you were doing this for grayson.

mutpitle texts of ‘im on the way’, ’im here’ and ‘meet me outside?” went unanswered as your boyfriend, who was also the host of the party, was being pulled around the room but fans of him who were desperate for his attention. his eyes constantly flickered over to the door, uninterested in the conversations he was having and waiting for you to arrive and turn his night around for the better.

he was distracted from his conversation with a girl he hadn't even bothered to learn the name off when he spotted a large crowd gather in the hall way. load. his ears were met with unsettling comments being directed towards someone he couldn’t quite see from his spot in the kitchen, making him completely blind to the groups of students surrounded you and making you feel so unwelcome as you anxiously searched the party of the one person who made you feel the safest.

grayson blood boiled as he pushed his way further into the crowd, his shoulders puffed and hands balled to his side when he finally made eye contact with your teary ones. on noticing it was you, being submitted to his own team mates calling you a loser, a nerd, a nobody, something inside grayson switched.

“oh look if it isn't little miss y/n, what's a nobody like you doing here. the library’s across campus, loser,” liam, who you had seen hang around with grayson many times in the school canteen, raised his voice in order to gain the attention of all the students in attendance, wanting to turn as many people against you and make you feel as little as possible. you were an easy target for him to gain popularity.

“you dont belong here.”

“dont you have homework to be doing?”

“what is she even wearing.” you heard some girls dressed in the skimpiest clothes laughing at you.

you stood silent, never one to fight back. you weren't strong enough nor brave enough to defend yourself. a weakness of your was showing emotion and that was always used against you, you let some tears fall, hugging yourself as a sense of protection, which only egged on the bullies to harassing you further.

you might not be brave enough to defend yourself, but your overprotective and extremely pissed boyfriend who was storming his way over, certainly was.

liam backed you into a corner, laughing in your face and watching you cry which only aided to boost his ego. he stunk of alcohol, his breath so close to your eye making you recoil into yourself and whimper out for grayson. liam felt untouchable, until the booming voice of your knight in shining armour stopped in his tracks.

you let out a sigh of relief.

“yo liam!” grayson’s voice overshadowed the music, the herd of students parting like the red sea and watching his every move.

students gasped as grayon aggressively pulled liam’s body away from yours by the collar of his shirt, yanking his boy as far away from you as possible and causing him to stumble back, as grayon quickly stood in front of your and acted like a human shield.

he felt you small, shaky hands grip onto the back of his shirt and hide your face. grayson reached one arm behind and held onto your hip, his fingers soothing over your skin to silently remind you he was there and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

you were always going to safe with him.

his glare remained firm on liam, who looked just as shocked and scared as the crowd that seemed to grow around you and see what all the fuss was about.many people were more interested in the fact grayson dolan had finally settled down, rather than the fight that may occur.

“gray, he-hey bro! great party,” liam stuttered over his words, but straightened up when he noticed students filming the confrontation. he thrived off attention and he knew the easiest way to get it, was to be an arsehole.

if he pushed grayson’s buttons, he would be seen as a hero and he could finally steal grayson’s popularity he was so hungry for. or so he thought it was that easy.

“you got a problem with my girl?” grayson kept his voice low, eyes stern and his hand on you at all times. his muscles were tense but at the feeling of your body press closer to his, he relaxed a little.

“your girl?” liam spat venom. laughing as he tried to catch a glance of you over grayson shoulder, only to prompt grayson to take a step forward.

“bro, you can do so much better. she’s a los-“

grayson didn’t even give liam enough time to finish his sentence before his fist was colliding with his nose. sending liam down to the floor with one hit, blood dropping down his face as grayson stood over his body, tall and angry.

“don’t you ever speak about her like that again. don’t talk about her, to her, don’t even fucking look at her. if i catch you so much as breathe near her, i’ll fucking end you. ya hear me?”

grayson then proceeded to lifted liam off the floor once again by his shirt and dragged his body outside, throwing him onto the lawn of the frat house before slamming the door in his face and immediately running back to your side.

he returned to you with soft gentle eyes, and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes like you were used to. he instantly pulledyou into his arms and repeatedly apologised for not being there sooner. he held you whist you tried to control your unsteady breathing, your fingers reaching down to cup his bruised fists in your own and kiss each individual knuckle to help sooth the pain he must be feeling.

grayson lifted his other unharmed hand to your cheek, his thumb gently swiping away at the smudged mascara of your under eye. you still looked as beautiful as ever in his eyes. an angel sent down from heaven just for him, he wondered what he did in a past life to get so lucky.

“i love you, baby. dont listen to the opinions of people who dont matter, they don’t know about us. they don’t see you the way i see you. you're the most beautiful, person i’v ever met and i dont want no one else, you hear me?”

“yours. im yours, baby.”

grayson leans in to seal his vows with a kiss. pouring every ounce of love he had for you into it and making sure everybody around saw.

reaching for your hand and dragging you out of the party, grayson lead the pair of you back to your dorm room, where you spend the rest of the night tangled up in your sheets, sharing kisses and whispering i love yous till the sun came up.

339 notes · View notes

reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Personal Google

4 times Spencer knows the answer, and the 1 time he doesn’t.

Summary: Spencer is your own personal Google. He always knows the answer to anything you ask him.

Warnings: Pining, slow burn-ish (?), reader and Spencer are both idiots who aren’t acknowledging their feelings for each other. Some mentions of a case and case-typical violence. No references to the gender of the reader!

Word count: 2k (this ran away from me)

A/N: Part two to this is here!

Requests: open!!

“Hey Spence?” You call, barely looking up from your phone as you scroll through Twitter, “What’s a hedgefund?”

“Are you reading about the GameStop stock?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

He clears his throat, and you look up at him, “Okay. A hedgefund is a way for accredited investors to invest in a way that minimises the risk to their own assets. Without getting too complicated, because it can get really convoluted, it’s basically just a way for rich people to get richer a lot of the time because a prerequisite for investing in the majority is having a high net income or a high net worth to begin with.”

You smile, “So basically rich people are getting screwed?”

“Something like that.”

“Good,” You respond, putting your phone away.

You swear you hear a little laugh escape his mouth as he turns back to the computer at his desk.

***

You’re sat on the jet, in your usual seat next to him, when everything starts to go pear-shaped. It jolts a little, sending you knocking into his side. You grimace.

“It’s just a little turbulence,” Hotch says, “Probably because of the storm coming from the East. We should be landing soon.”

Rationally, you realise there’s nothing to be afraid of. But it’s easier said than done to keep rational when the plane’s rattling like a pack of smarties and your head is bashing against Spencer’s bony shoulder every five seconds.

He senses your unease, tentatively reaching across to take hold of your hand. His instinct is to supply statistics about plane crashes but something in him tells him you won’t respond too well if he tells you the odds of getting in a small plane crash are higher than a regular commercial flight but still lower than the chances of being involved in a motor vehicle accident. Instead, he chooses a different tactic.

“It’ll be alright, we’ve been in the air for two hours and,” He squints at his watch, “Forty-three minutes. This flight’s two hours fifty-eight tops.”

You nod, “Hey Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember this morning when you were telling me about the French dancing plague and we got interrupted by the call about the case?”

You don’t have to say anything more, he immediately launches into a spiel about France in 1615: the death of crops, how the people felt they were being spited by God, the whole thing. He gestures wildly with his free hand, but the hand that lies atop of yours doesn’t budge an inch. You rub small circles on it with your thumb, which goes unacknowledged. Privately, you’re a little disappointed. Privately, he’s afraid you’ll stop if he points it out.

***

It’s been a long and fruitless day. The local PD had been worse than useless, they were so reluctant to accept that anybody from their town could possibly have been responsible for what was going on that it felt like a constant battle to get anything done. You’d been out interviewing possible witnesses from the local bar. Well, trying to, you would have been a lot more successful if the Sheriff hadn’t constantly been under your feet, undermining your questions and generally resulting in making you look like an idiot.

Hotch had chewed him out in the end, relinquishing you from interview duty to help Spencer with the geographical profile back at the station. He’s scribbling away on the map while you slump in the chair, a little defeated.

“Hey Spence?”

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not taking his eyes off the section he’s just crossed out.

“How come you’re ruling out that side of town?”

He flips the whiteboard pen in his hands, returning its cap before turning around to you, “A lot of the area over there is industrial. I’ve been combing through to get a closer look, but it doesn’t look like our unsub would have the kind of privacy he needs. There are a lot of factories, granted, but they’re pretty much all occupied. He’s meticulous, I don’t think he’d take the risk of working in an environment where he couldn’t control anything and risking getting himself caught. And from what we know about him he certainly isn’t affluent enough to rent property on that side of town. Rent is almost three times as expensive there,” he gestures with his hands, tapping the lid of the pen on the area he means, “I think he’s more likely to be from the northmost part of town.”

You smile, “I don’t know how you do that.”

He opens his mouth to respond before seeing the softness in your eyes, realising you’re not asking for an explanation. You’re giving him a compliment. His chest feels a little warm.

***

You can’t sleep that night, despite how exhausting your day has been. You’d think the physical and mental exhertion would knock you out but instead you’re sat on your bed, idly flipping through TV channels. Not much is on except some old NCIS re-runs, and oddly enough you don’t feel like watching a crime show.

You could text Spencer. The thought appears in your head of its own accord, without your consent.

You could though.

10:12pm - You

You’d think after a day like today I’d be able to get some rest

10:13pm - Spencer

You can’t sleep?

10:13pm - You

No, sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep

10:14pm - Spencer

I can’t sleep either, don’t worry. Do you want to come over to my room? I have a documentary about Pearl Harbour I was going to watch

10:14pm - Spencer

Or we could do something else. Not sure if Pearl Harbour is more fun for you than struggling to fall asleep

10:15pm - You

A Pearl Harbour documentary sounds great

Thankfully you’d had the forethought to bring nice sleeping attire rather than your old ratty ones. You’d learnt your lesson before, when your presence had been required in the middle of the night and you’d had to scramble down to team meetings in pyjama bottoms that had a hole in the right thigh.

You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror, some anxiety fluttering in your stomach for some reason.

It’s odd. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been over to Spencer’s room for crying out loud, I mean he’s the person you’re closest to on the team and your best friend and your private yearning for him is mostly inconsequential. Mostly. Except you fix your hair and smooth down your top a little anyway.

He’s only three doors down and it’s easy enough to slip quietly into his room. He sits on the bed, two glasses of water resting on the bedside table, his laptop resting by his knees. He’s illuminated by the bedside lamp next to him, and his hair looks fluffy as hell. No doubt from him running his own hands through it in frustration today. He smiles at you, patting the space next to him.

You pad across and join him, “Hey Spence.”

“Hi.”

His laptop isn’t particularly loud, and the screen isn’t very big, so you end up sat quite close to him. The laptop rests on his lap. You hesitate before nuzzling in against him, feeling how his breath catches in his chest as your head rests against his on the bedframe.

“Is this okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He answers, a small content smile playing on his lips, “Yeah this is okay.”

***

You’re not sure when or how you fell asleep but you wake up with a start to the sound of pounding on the door. And you’re not in your own bed. You briefly acknowledge the warmth next to you before it’s gone, Spencer leaping out of bed to answer the door.

“We’ve been-” Emily stands in the doorway, the bedroom lamp that you must have neglected to turn off allowing her to catch a glimpse of your dazed face, “Reid, why is ____ in your room?”

Spencer opens his mouth, flustered and unsure of what to say, floundering between looking at you both for a moment before Emily rescues him. The digital clock obnoxiously blinks the time: 2:18am.

“Okay we’re definitely talking about this later but there’s another body, Hotch wants us all down at the station in 15.”

It occurs to you, as you rush embarassed from Spencer’s room, apologising to him at least five times on your way out, that the only thing standing between you and a million questions about your personal life is the focus on an unsub who you’ll hopefully catch today. You shrug your clothes over your head, replacing them with fresh ones and pulling on your shoes. The jet home is going to be fun.

—-

You were right to be hopeful about today. The unsub is tracked down and arrested by the time night comes around. His arrest is clean, no hostages and no shots fired. Really, in your line of work, it was the best possible outcome.

Hotch made the call that you’d spend another night here, since there was paperwork that’d need to be taken care of in the morning and some final loose ends that required wrapping up. You suspected some small part of it was because J.J wanted to ensure you made nice and left things on good terms with the local PD before you left, since there’d been a lot of headbutting throughout the case. Spencer had also been completely right about the geographical profile, the unsub had been working and killing from a rundown ramshackle house in the northmost suburb.

Speaking of Spencer, you’d barely acknowledged each other since this morning. Sure, you’d shared rooms together before, even beds when the occasion had called for it, but you’d never been so intimate before.

Maybe it was best for you both if you just ignored the whole thing entirely, carried on as normal. Yeah. Yeah that’s what you’d do.

You worried about the meaning of anything you said being lost over text so you headed to his room, knocking on his door. It brought a small smile to your face to think how you’d been on the other side of it the last time someone knocked.

He opens it, just slightly, before relaxing when he sees it’s you, “Hey.”

“Hi,” You step past him into the room, watching him close the door and take a step towards you.

He waits for you to speak.

“So. We never finished that documentary.”

He laughs, soft, “We didn’t.”

“Do you want to finish it now?”

“Uh…” He visibly pauses and you feel a small twinge in your chest. Maybe you’d made him uncomfortable, maybe you’d misread the whole thing, maybe you’d...

He interrupts your self-deprecating runaway train of thoughts with a simple, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As you settle down to watch the film, his laptop situated firmly in the middle of the bed this time, you feel the gulf between you. Empty space where his leg rested against yours yesterday. Still, that was what he wanted, right? His own space. Not to talk about it.

You don’t notice because you’re watching the documentary, but Spencer has to stop himself from reaching his arm out for you when he stretches. You didn’t want to talk about it, obviously. Meaning you probably wished it hadn’t happened. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest at that thought, the hollow feeling it left. Thankfully it wasn’t too long before you spoke again.

“Hey Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this historically accurate?”

And explaining the nuances of Japanese-American history is much easier for him.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

784 notes · View notes

thisbeatchachinglikemoney · 3 years

Text

Just One Day

Part 11 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Someone from her past comes back

Warnings: Physical abuse, mental abuse, rape, swearing, kidnapping, hostage situation, suicidal thoughts

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! Also, happy FESTA!!

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO GET QUITE DARK SO IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR DON’T READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Jungkook stretched and hummed in his chair as he saved the last copy of the song he was working on, his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach to the air conditioning that was circulating crisp, cold air around the room. He preferred his studio to be quite cold while he was working late as it would keep him awake, to the point where he would lose track of time and would only go home because one of his hyungs told him to either by calling him incessantly until he picked up or actually dragging him out of his studio.

He grabbed his bag from the couch behind him and began packing everything up quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Y/N and love her with everything he had. He grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was just past midnight. His gorgeous girl had left just under two hours ago and he felt bad because he had promised he would be an hour at the most. He made sure everything was properly turned off and logged out. He pushed his chair back under his desk with his foot before moving out of the studio and locking the door behind him.

He knew that when he got home everyone would be asleep. They normally stayed up until everyone was home, but if Y/N had told the others that he was close behind then they would have gone to bed, knowing that he would be back soon. He said a quick goodbye to the night guards before moving into the parking lot and getting into his car.

He drove quickly but carefully back. The streets of Seoul were quite quiet since it was the middle of the night, but it was something Jungkook found quite relaxing. He loved the glimmering of the streetlights and neon shop lights against the dark sky. There were no stars tonight - it was too cloudy, but Seoul made up for that, the lights on the tips of the skyscrapers becoming artificial stars. He wanted to take Y/N out for a date like this, driving through Seoul and then eating junk food on the hood of his car somewhere secluded while looking at the sky and scenery, enjoying each other’s presence. He would do that with her soon, when his schedule wasn’t as hectic.

He pulled into the underground parking lot of the group’s flat and jogged to their apartment, not being able to keep away from his gorgeous girl any longer. He needed her in his arms.

He unlocked the door and toed off his shoes, instantly being met with the sight of his hyungs sat together in the living room and no Y/N in sight.

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, getting up and embracing the boy before taking hold of his ear and twisting it. Jungkook yelped in pain.

“I was in the Golden Closet. Didn’t Y/N tell you?” Jungkook moved to cup his ear to help with the pain but Yoongi stopped his hand. “Speaking of, where is my gorgeous girl?”

“We thought she was with you, Kook.” Hoseok replied.

“But she left before me, like two hours ago. Sejin-ssi picked her up. She said she would come straight here, hyung.” Jungkook explained, biting at his thumb nervously. His head was instantly filled with negative thoughts. Which if their car had been hijacked by saesangs? What if they had been in an accident?

“Jungkook!” Yoongi yelled, getting his attention. “I asked you a question?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you, can you please repeat it?” Jungkook took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack.

“I said are you sure Sejin-ssi picked her up?” Yoongi repeated himself.

“I don’t know, I think so. He did text me saying he had got her.” Jungkook collapsed on one of the sofas, holding his head in his hands. “Hyung, what if they got in an accident? What if a saesang intercepted the car?”

“Hey, hey, Yoongi hyung, calm down, you’re scaring him.” Namjoon said, putting his hands on the older’s shoulders and sitting him down. “Okay, now, Kook you need to calm down, okay? Don’t panic.” He noticed the maknae’s breathing speeding up and tears streaming down his face.

“I should have left with her when she said she was tired. I shouldn’t have stayed later. I just wanted to finish the song. It was me who suggested it.” Namjoon sighed and sat down, pulling the younger boy onto his lap.

“How about we call her? It’s most likely that she asked Sejin to stop for ice cream or something like that. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has.” Namjoon suggested, rubbing the maknae’s back to calm him down. He hated seeing him this upset.

“We can’t call her. She left her phone.” Jungkook said. “I should have followed her. I should have chased after her and given it to her when I realised she had left it. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” More tears poured down his face, his doll-like lips becoming pouted.

“Hey, no, you aren’t. We’ll just call Sejin, okay.” Namjoon reassured him. “Jungkook, you are not a terrible boyfriend. You are amazing. She loves you so much.” Namjoon looked over to the rest of the members. “One of you call Sejin-ssi. I’m going to get Kookie some comfortable clothes and then try and calm him down, okay?”

“I’ll call him.” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone. He tapped a few things on the screen and put the call on speaker. The ringing tone filled the room for a few moments before someone picked up. “Sejin-ssi?”

It was silent before someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not Sejin. “Hmm, no, how about you try again?” The person replied, making Jimin look up at his hyungs with wide eyes.

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi asked, his voice firm and serious. There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone and a noise that sounded like a whimper of pain.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” The man sounded menacing. Jungkook gulped and looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes full of fear. Yoongi looked like he was ready to murder someone, and Jungkook knew that he was going to take the main brunt of his anger.

“Jackson?” Yoongi had no emotion in his voice. This happened when he was really scared or really angry. It was like his body shut down any way he could be seen as weak.

“Jackson stop! Please!” They heard you beg. Jungkook bit his lip, not wanting to hear his girlfriend being hurt and not being able to do anything about it.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” There was a slap and a stifled shout. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.”

“Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.” Yoongi shouted just before the call was ended. There was a beep. Jimin shouted in frustration and threw his phone across the room.

“This is all my fault.” Jungkook whispered to himself.

“Damn right it is!” Yoongi shouted, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. “Why would you not go with her? How could you let her go by herself! What the actual fuck, Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“You never do! You only do what you want to do! You’re so selfish, Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi was seething. Jungkook gulped. “Your sorry doesn’t fix anything! She is gone! She is back with that pathetic excuse for a man and is probably not going to make it! You know what she told me? If she was ever with Jackson again, she was going to kill herself! So tell me, Jungkook, what are you going to do? You’ve sent her down the river to her death! Because of you, she’s going to die!”

“Hyung!” Namjoon yelled, making Yoongi drop Jungkook. The maknae skittered away. There was a slam and then silence. “What the hell are you doing? You know how sensitive he is!” Namjoon was angry.

“Jackson has her, Joon. He intercepted Sejin and kidnapped her. He was beating her on the phone.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. “And it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He should have left with her. He knows that Jackson is out there!”

“How the hell would Jungkook have known Jackson would have the balls to do something like this?” Namjoon asked with an edge to his voice. “He called Sejin to make sure she wasn’t walking home by herself! If he really didn’t care about her, he would have let her make her own way home.”

“If he cared about her, he would have taken her home himself!” Yoongi wasn’t having any of it. In his eyes, Jungkook was at fault here.

“Look, you’re angry and scared. We all are. But that does not give us the right to argue with each other. We need to stick together if we want to get her back.” Namjoon said, remaining calm. He had to. If he fell apart, they all fell apart. “You need to go and cool off. Go to your room and calm yourself down, and then you need to apologise to Jungkook. You’re his hyung, Yoon, and he needs you right now.”

Yoongi looked at his younger member and sighed. Namjoon was right. They couldn’t afford to be arguing with each other. It would make everything a whole lot worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet.

“Come on, hyungie. I think you need some Jiminie cuddles.” A small hand took his and pulled him up to his room. “Namjoon hyung, can you call the police, please.” Namjoon pointed to his phone and nodded.

Jimin lay down on Yoongi’s bed and opened his arms. “I’m the big spoon this time.” He said. Yoongi nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling into Jimin’s arms. It was then he allowed the wall to come down and dissolved into tears.

“She said she was going to kill herself, Min.” Yoongi sobbed. “She said she wouldn’t be able to handle being with him for any longer. I don’t. I can’t deal with losing her. I won’t be able to deal with losing her.”

“It will be okay, hyung. Joonie hyung is on the phone with the police now and since he has Sejin’s phone, they will be able to track it and see where they are. PD-nim had a tracker installed into the phone that can’t be turned off in case Sejin ever got kidnapped or we did. They’ll find her.”

“Yes, but if they find her, will they actually find her, or will she just be the shell of herself?” Yoongi said, resting the side of his head on Jimin’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

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

Silence. Darkness. Pain.

The never ending cycle that Y/N was going through. Whatever Jackson had used to knock her out had caused the worse headache. It throbbed, each wave of pain being stronger than the last. She winced as she came around.

Her eyes felt like they were glued together. She tried to open them, but failed. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She also knew that if she opened them she would be faced with the impending doomed reality she was forced to deal with. The reality where she was back with Jackson and had been ripped away from her happy life with her boys.

It was then the most horrible thought flashed through her mind. What if it had all been a dream? What if she had made it all up? Those months where all her fear for Jackson had fizzled out, thinking she was safe? It was a false sense of security. In what world would BTS, the biggest boygroup in the world, be her soulmates? In what world would she deserve seven soulmates? There would only be one way to test if it was real. She had to open her eyes and see if everything was greyscale or full color.

She tried to open her eyes again, but failed. Had he glued her eyes shut? She reached up and felt along her eyelashes. It was crusty but it wasn’t sticky. She pried open her eyelids, pulling them apart with her fingers. She hissed slightly.

Her eyelids were unstuck now, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to open them if the past months had just been a dream. Just open them Y/N, she thought to herself, just open them. You never know.

“Please don’t be grey. Please don’t be grey.” She whispered to herself, gingerly opening her eyes.

She looked around, realising that she was back in that bedroom. Her mother’s lamp was still on the bedside table, although there was a small dark brown stain on it now. Dark brown. That was a color. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well.

“Look who’s up.” A voice drawled. She looked over to the door and saw Jackson lounging against the frame, a belt idly swinging between his fingers. She gulped.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She glared at him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head.

“Because I love you and you love me.” Jackson shrugged. “You belong with me, not with them.”

“I don’t love you, Jackson. I haven’t for a long while.” She spat.

Jackson gasped animatedly. “Someone has some nerve talking to me like that. Where are your manners? Guess I need to teach you again. Kneel and face the bed.”

Y/N ignored him, trying to stand up to him and show him that she wasn’t weak anymore and that she knew her worth and wasn’t scared of him. He slapped the belt across her face. Thankfully he was holding the buckle, but the impact still hurt. She cried out as he pulled her up by her hair and forced her into a kneeling position.

“Listen to me, stupid bitch.” He hit her harshly with the belt. “Just a few months away from me and all your training is gone. Looks like I’ll just have to be harsher with you.” He added a few more hits before throwing his belt somewhere else in the room. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up by her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Now if you make a sound, I will make this so much worse for you.” He threatened.

Y/N gulped and nodded, allowing him to force her into a position on the bed. Her back and shoulders hurt so much. He forced her onto her hands and knees. He groaned. “Now that is a sight I have missed.” He rubbed his hands over her ass.

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up and her breathing quickened. Was he about to rape her? She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed onto her hips. “Stop!” He shouted, hitting her back over one of the open wounds from his belt. She cried out and crumpled forwards. He pressed his hips against her. “See how much I’ve missed you.” He was hard against her. She didn’t want this.

“Get away from me. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I said no talking!” A harsh smack to her inner thigh followed before he ripped off her panties. She silently scolded herself for wearing a skirt. If she had been wearing jeans she would have been able to fight against this better. She would have had more time. She sobbed as she heard him push his jeans down. Before he could do anything to her, a phone started ringing.

“Fuck sake.” He groaned, answering it as he stroked over her lower back and thighs.

“Sejin-ssi?” It was Jimin. Y/N felt some relief flood through her body. She knew that Sejin had an unremovable tracker built into his phone that could not be switched off and she knew Jackson had no knowledge of it. Jackson dug his nails into her skin before he spoke.

“Hmm, no, how about you try again?” Jackson smirked, knowing he had full power here.

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi sounded angry. Y/N knew that he was not going to rest until he found her.

Jackson set the phone down and whispered into Y/N’s ear. “If you say one thing, I will kill you.” He threatened. “Now, shut up and be good.” He chuckled as he picked up the phone, pushing into the poor girl. She whimpered, the dry friction hurting her.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” Jackson rolled his hips against her, making her bury her head and cry. She didn’t know if they could hear her.

“Jackson?” Yoongi figured it out, but Y/N had just switched off. She hated this. She wanted out.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” He reached down and grabbed his belt again. “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” He brought the leather down against her skin, this time not holding the buckle. She felt the metal tear open her skin, leaving fresh wounds that would sometimes go over the ones he had already done. It hurt so much. Y/N just wanted it to be over. She couldn’t do this again. He hit her again, making her scream out in pain.

“Jackson, stop! Please!” She yelled, her hands curling in the sheets to relieve some of the pain.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” Jackson slapped her before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around her neck tightly. She could feel her air supply being cut off. She released a stifled scream, clawing at the leather around her neck. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.” He said into the phone.

Before he could hang up, Y/N heard Yoongi talking directly to her. “Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.”

“Yoongi! I love you all too!” She yelled but Jackson had cut the call.

“Now... where were we?” He sounded menacing. Y/N sobbed as she felt him begin to move.

But now she had that small glimmer of hope that they would be able to find her. One day she would be out of here and she held onto that. For them.

#sub!reader #sub!taehyung #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #switch!jin #dom!hoseok #dom!namjoon #dom!yoongi #bts ot7 #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #boys with luv #soulmate au #just one day

139 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

my happy ending [one] // kara danvers

summary: your crush from work decides to make a move, but she keeps putting off telling you something that you don't realise is actually really important

warning/s: none

author's note: i'm still working on a bunch of stuff but here's some old stuff to tide you over as i do. this is part one to a two-parter! enjoy :)

part two | masterlist

I sketched out some designs at my desk, ideas for some new Instagram and Twitter marketing CatCo we were planning to do. I was in charge of social media marketing at CatCo Worldwide, so things like this were routine at work. What wasn't routine was the cute blonde, Kara, AKA Cat Grant's assistant, approaching my desk with a chirpy smile on her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," she greeted, before setting down a coffee cup in front of me.

I smiled automatically, Kara's presence instantly affecting my mood in a positive way. I glanced at the cup and quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, Kara. Is this for me?"

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose adorably. "I was picking up Miss Grant's order and I remembered you said you loved the chocolate orange hot chocolates Noonan's do. So, I got you one."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "Oh, wow, er, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

She shrugged, and I was sure she looked as flustered as I felt. "No biggie."

I took a sip of the hot chocolate and smiled at how good it was, but mostly because of who got it me.

"So, what are you doing?" she asked, walking around my desk and sitting at the edge. She glanced at my sketches and added, "Is that the new fashion post for our social media accounts? They look amazing!"

"Just some sketches, but eventually they will be," I said, before nodding. "And thanks. I just need the photos so I know what I'm working with. Gotta ask the new guy, James... you met him yet?"

Kara nodded. "Yeah, I just bumped into him earlier."

"Can you believe he knows Superman?" I asked with disbelief. "How awesome is that?"

She smiled with amusement. "Extremely awesome."

"Keira!"

Kara lost her smile when Miss Grant called for her, before looking to me apologetically. "I should–"

"It's cool," I said, nodding for her to leave before Miss Grant tracked her down. "Thanks again for the drink."

Kara flashed me a smile. "Anytime. See you later."

I watched her walk away, waving as she glanced over her shoulder. I found myself biting my lip to contain my own smile, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

Kara Danvers, assistant to Cat Grant.

Ever since she began working here, I found myself crushing on the blonde and her cute mannerisms. We were friends, occasionally hanging out outside of work and doing things together. But that's all it was, sadly. I knew she was friends with Winn – best friends, I think – and I also knew that the tech guy was practically in love with her. I didn't know him as well as I knew her, but I knew enough to not want to get in between the two of them. So, Kara Danvers remained a silly little crush.

I got back to my sketches, managing to draft up some mock-ups on Photoshop before my day ended. I was more tired than I thought that evening, ending up falling asleep earlier than usual. Which meant that I missed the biggest news in National City yet – a mystery woman saving a plane from crashing, possibly a new superhero.

I woke up the next morning to a million and one calls and texts from colleagues at CatCo, all expecting me to get on social media to post about this mystery woman. By the time I got to work that morning, I was caught up with everything and in awe at this new superhero we had. It was pretty darn awesome!

The amazement I felt however was short lived, as Cat was all over me when I got to the office, claiming I should have been on top of our social media coverage as soon as it happened. Apparently me falling asleep wasn't a valid enough point to miss it, so I was put to work instantly, working with the photography and marketing department to find some sort of coverage on this mystery hero.

As I was lining up some posts with the limited images available of this hero, I felt a presence stop by my desk and saw it was Kara.

"Morning," she greeted, before glancing at my computer. "Oh, so you heard?"

I chuckled. "Kind of hard not to. It's everywhere." I nodded to the many TVs around the office that were playing reruns of the news coverage from last night.

"Pretty cool, right?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Very, but it also means I now have a lot of work to do, especially because I fell asleep when all of this went down," I said, jokingly. "Cat has been all over me about this all morning."

Kara laughed and it was literally the best thing I'd heard all day.

"So, I was actually hoping I could tell you something," she said, an excited smile on her face as she met my eyes.

I felt a little flustered under her gaze and found myself distracting myself with my computer screen momentarily.

"I actually have a lot of things to do right now,” I said regretfully. “Maybe later?”

Her smile faded as she nodded. "Right, no, yeah, that's totally fine. Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologise," I said instantly, feeling a little bad. "I just– if I don't get this done, Cat will kill me."

"I got it, you do this, it's cool," she said reassuringly, offering me a small smile.

"Sorry," I tried, a little sad that there was nothing I could do. I really needed to get this done, despite wanting to spend some more time with Kara.

"It's fine, good luck," she said, giving me a grin and thumbs up before leaving.

I sighed, before getting back to work. Unfortunately, it was a few hours before I could get away from my desk, and I managed to track down Kara at her own desk, remembering she wanted to tell me something.

"Hey," I said, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notebook, smiling when she saw me. "Hey, you manage to get that content done?"

"Just about," I said, before offering a small smile. "Sorry again for blowing you off."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine, honestly."

"I'm free now though," I said optimistically. "Maybe we could grab an early lunch? You can talk to me then?"

Kara pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded slowly. "That sounds nice actually, yeah."

I felt a little relieved when she agreed. "Great. Well, I'll let you get your things and meet you by the elevator?"

She pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. "You got it."

We ended up getting lunch, as agreed, and it was nice to make it up to her. Though, I never really noticed that she never ended up telling me whatever it was that she wanted to tell me. I was so distracted by how smoothly our lunch was going that I forgot to ask her about it. Maybe if I'd asked, she might have told me the truth. Or she might have made something up and lied. I guess I would never know.

–

Did somebody say tiny umbrella drinks? #gottalovethetinyumbrellas #CatCoFoundation [image here]

I sent yet another tweet and picture out from CatCo's Twitter account, watching as it instantly got responses from everyone. I was at an event that Cat was throwing for all CatCo employees plus special guests. It was an event to raise money for Cat's foundation – a charity for children's hospitals in National City. My job was to live-tweet the heck out of the event, hoping to boost donations online.

It was a formal event, so I was comfortably dressed in some high-waisted pants and a silk blouse, it being my best attempt at 'formal' clothes.

The event wasn't too bad. There was free food and drinks, plus I got to hang out with some of my friends from work whilst doing the bare minimum. I just wasn't an evening person, I guess.

"Hey, stranger," a voice startled me, and I turned around, surprised to see Kara Danvers stood there.

I hadn't seen much of Kara in the past few months, despite working with her. She always seemed to be caught up with Winn, and she'd gotten quite close with the not-so-new guy, James Olsen. I wasn't stalking her or anything, but I began to notice when I would try to make plans with her like we used to – little things like grabbing coffee or going to watch a film after work – and she would decline or have plans already. Then I'd see her constantly being surrounded by Winn and James, so I figured she'd just made new friends.

"Kara," I breathed out, smiling as I took in her appearance. "Hey."

I hadn't seen her at all this evening and I was sure she just showed up because I definitely would have noticed how good she looked in that fitted red dress of hers.

"You look really nice," she said, looking me up and down before meeting my eyes.

"Thanks," I said, hoping my cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt. "So do you. You liking the event?"

Kara looked around, nodding. "It's beautiful."

"You did a good job," I said, giving her a knowing smile. "I know you planned it."

"This was all Cat, I just–"

"Kara, everybody knows you plan the events around here," I told her with a chuckle. "It's okay."

She smiled to herself, looking down. "Right." It went quiet for a moment before she looked up and said, "Do you want to dance?"

I was a little taken aback by her confidence, but nonetheless, I found myself nodding. She smiled as she held out her hand. I took it, feeling goosebumps from how soft her hands were.

She led me to the dance-floor, stopping and resting a hand on my waist, the other holding my hand. I nervously rested an arm on her shoulder as I focused on swaying to the music playing rather than stepping on her toes.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while," she said after a moment. I looked up and saw her blue eyes staring right through me.

"Well, we've both been busy," I attempted to give a reason.

She shook her head, smiling apologetically. "No, it's not that... it's my fault. I've been hanging out with James and Winn so much lately that I've been neglecting you."

I laughed a little awkwardly. "Kara, it's okay. You don't need to feel bad for having other friends. I mean, you don't have any obligations to me. They're your best friends. Of course you're gonna hang out with them."

She pursed her lips and I admittedly felt nervous as she stared at me, her expression unreadable. She was a little taller than me which didn't help with me trying to keep my emotions in check. She was extremely close to me as we swayed to the music and I could just about focus on it as she continued to stare at me.

"What if I want to have obligations to you?" she asked, and I almost thought she was joking until I realised that she wasn't.

I wanted to understand what she meant, but I didn't get to ask because she leaned forward and closed the gap between us with her lips. I was surprised at her boldness, pinning Kara for the shy type. Nonetheless, I returned the kiss, melting into her embrace and warmth.

We pulled apart soon enough, myself a little flustered from the kiss. My lips were still tingling as she met my eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I hope that was okay," she muttered.

I nodded slowly, still surprised. "Yeah, it was."

My stomach was doing somersaults as I mirrored her smile; the gala was merely a blur in the background as I realised Kara Danvers had just kissed me. I definitely wouldn't have thought she felt something for me other than friendship.

"I'm assuming you want this to go somewhere," I said, a little stupidly.

She laughed melodiously as she nodded, intertwining her fingers in mine. "That's the plan, yes. But actually, er..."

"Second thoughts already?" I joked, though inside I was genuinely believing she might be second-guessing her decision, judging from her sudden change of facial expression.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "It's just, I feel like we should talk first. I have to tell you something. Before this goes any further."

She sounded quite affected by whatever it was, so I nodded, losing my smile for a moment.

"Of course, you can tell me whatever you need to," I reassured her, giving her hand a little squeeze. "Do you want to talk now or after?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but tilted her head to the side as she grew distracted. I waited patiently, expecting her to snap back into reality, but she seemed caught up with something else.

"Kara? You okay?" I asked, growing a little concerned.

"What? Yeah, sorry," she said, shaking her head before meeting my eyes with apologetic ones. "I'm sorry, I have to go for a minute. I just realised I have to check on the desserts for the party."

"Oh, okay." I nodded, giving her a small smile. "You can tell me whatever it is afterwards then?"

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I'll be back after, I swear."

I believed her and watched as she let go of my hand, already in a rush to leave. I wondered what was so time-sensitive about desserts, but decided not to question it as I realised the very obvious and surprising fact that Kara liked me.

As she turned to leave, she quickly turned back to me and moved forward, pressing a haste kiss to my cheek. My face heated up as she flashed me a beautiful smile, before moving to leave.

Just danced with the most beautiful girl in the room #CatCoFoundation

I looked up and saw Kara by the door, about to leave, but she stopped when her phone vibrated. After glancing at the screen, she paused and a wide smile graced her lips. Her eyes lifted and she gave me a knowing look before disappearing. I found myself smiling like an idiot the rest of the night.

I guess I should have realised, once again, that Kara never ended up telling me whatever it was that she wanted to tell me. I was so caught up in the fact that she returned my feelings that I never remembered to ask her what it was that she wanted to say. Maybe if I'd remembered, things would have ended up a little differently.

–

Kara and I went on some dates, our relationship blossoming naturally. It was the best thing to happen to me at the time – finding someone who I thought truly understood me, and vice versa. We had inside jokes, an 'our song', a favourite restaurant we frequented; we were happy and it was amazing. I was really falling for her. I thought she was perfect. Nothing could change that, I thought. She was everything I wanted.

"What are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?" Kara asked, tilting her head to look at me.

It was moments like this when I was in awe of her beauty, inside and out. She was comfortable, with her hair tied in a loose ponytail and her face makeup-free. Her glasses were balanced on her nose as she stared at me with an easygoing smile and sparkling eyes. I felt a sudden overwhelming flood of love for her as she waited for me to reply.

"I'm in love with you," I blurted out uncontrollably.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, mouth agape as she realised what I said.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "That was random. And weird. Too soon, right? I freaked you out. I'm sorry."

Kara blinked several times, straightening up as she shook her head. "No, it's not, it's..." I watched her with anticipation, as she found her words. "It's fine. It's... I feel the same way."

It was my turn to be surprised now. I raised my eyebrows, a smile forming on my lips. "You do?"

Kara pursed her lips, eyes flickering up to meet mine. "Yeah."

I breathed out. "I'm really happy to hear that, especially because I thought I freaked you out, but like, I feel like something is bothering you, Kara."

Resting a hand on hers, I squeezed it gently. She offered me a small, troubled smile and I wondered what was occupying her thoughts.

"I trust you," she said gently. "I do. I love you. And I... I want you to know that I think what we have is amazing. I've never been happier."

"This sounds like a breakup," I joked, chuckling nervously. She wouldn't break up with me right after saying 'I love you', right?

"No, no, it's not!" she reassured immediately, taking any doubt from my mind. She leaned forward and cupped my cheek gently. "I'm not breaking up with you, silly."

"Good to know," I said playfully, resting my hand on hers and moving it to my lips, kissing it softly. "What is it though? What's on your mind? You can tell me anything you know."

She nodded. "I know... I can. I will. Now."

I stayed quiet, watching as she had some inner conflict going on. What was bothering her so much?

"I want to say that I–"

But she was cut off by her phone ringing. She rolled her eyes and I offered her an approving smile as she reached to answer it.

"Alex, hey, what's up?"

I sat back, keeping ahold of Kara's hand as she listened to Alex on the phone.

"Are you sure?" Kara said, concern in her voice.

I wondered what was going on, as the blonde was scrunching her brows together with worry. Her hand slipped from mine as she stood up, pacing.

"Okay, I'll be there now," she finished, before hanging up.

"Hey, that sounded serious, is everything okay?" I asked, standing up, too.

Kara nodded, already in the process of grabbing her things. "Yeah, sorry, it's just some family stuff with Alex. I should get going and help her out." She stopped moving and turned to face me, a distracted frown on her face. "I'm sorry. I know we were supposed to spend the evening together and I wanted to tell you something, but–"

"It's fine, Kara, you can just tell me another time," I cut her off, moving forward and rubbing her arm gently. "I hope everything is okay with Alex. I'll just see you at work tomorrow, yeah?"

Kara smiled tightly, nodding. "You're too understanding. It's annoyingly admirable."

I chuckled, stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She had a few inches on me, so I had to step on my tip toes to reach, but seeing the little smile appear on her lips when I did made it worth it.

"Don't get stressed about whatever it is you wanna tell me," I added, meeting her eyes. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I love you and I'm really lucky to have you in my life. I don't think anything will ruin that. Just... remember that, okay?"

Kara nodded, her eyes flickering to the floor. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I'll leave you to it," I said, moving away to grab my coat and put on my shoes. "Good luck with whatever is up, and see you tomorrow."

As I was about to leave, her voice called out, "I love you, too."

I smiled widely at her before leaving, feeling lightweight because of all the love that was bubbling around inside of me. Once again, Kara managed to distract me from the fact that she had something big to tell me, as when I followed up the next day, she assured me that she just wanted me to know that she sometimes moved too fast in relationships and she didn't want me to feel like I was being rushed.

I believed her, blinded by what I thought was my happy ending, and that was that.

#kara danvers x you #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #melissa benoist

172 notes · View notes

tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Remember us - part 5

Hello everyone....

Your weekly dose of angst is here... but in this part we have a bit of domestic fluff...

CW: mention of miscarriage and depression

-----

“Aelin, please.” His voice gruff with pain.

“I said get out.” She snarled at him from the bed.

Rowan moved a step towards her doing the exact opposite of what she had told him “I am not.” His arms folded at his chest “do you really think that being alone will help? That kicking me out will heal the pain of losing our daughter?”

Aelin sobbed hard and threw the pillow at him and he took the hit “don’t.”

“I lost her too. Will you accept that the pain is not only yours?” He shouted back “I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. And it fucking hurts because she was my baby girl too.”

“Stop…” her sobs grew in intensity “You have no idea of the pain.”

Rowan moved closer “No I don’t. I did not carry her in me for five months. I don’t know that pain.” He caressed her head “but she had a hold on my heart since the day you showed me the sonogram.”

“You are hurting me.” She said quietly looking away from him “and I need you to go.”

“Fireheart…”

“I said get out.” She shouted.

With his heart breaking, Rowan left the room.

Rowan woke up with a gaps, feeling the desperate need to get air in his lungs. He drew a hand on his face and felt tears. Had he been crying?

The memory was still vivid in his mind and it left him with unbearable anguish in his heart. In the dream he had felt both their pain. It had been real. His thumb reached for the ring on his fourth finger a gesture he had been doing a lot recently.

The memory had left him in a daze. How had they survived such deep pain? How could two people recover from such destructive sorrow?

But they did. Somehow their marriage had proven stronger than loss.

He sighed and took his phone to look at more picture of his family. He had so many that it took him a lot to go through them all. When he unlocked the phone he saw a text from Aelin sitting there, waiting for him.

Eagerly he opened it I am going back to work today, is it okay if I come and visit you?

Like a desperate man Rowan texted back as fast as he could please, it would make me very happy. The tv seems to be a very poor companion.

After he sent the text he realised his words had been true. He needed to see her.

Great. I am taking Tom to the nursery and I am on my way.

His lips tugged upwards in a smile. Then he made himself presentable. Aelin had brought him clothes and Evalin had brought some more so slowly and very carefully, he walked to the wardrobe. His right leg still getting used to have weight back on. Once he was done he went back to bed and fixed his ruffled hair. He was nervous. He had said to Evalin that his heart told him to try and that was what he was going to do. Apologise first. Then slowly start to get back to his old life. He knew it was going to be a tough ride but their time apart had increased that tug between them. He was afraid to admit that he had missed her daily visits.

Aelin arrived an hour later and as soon as she walked into his room, his heart raced.

“Hi you,” she said softly, still standing on the door.

He gave her a smile and with his head motioned to the chair. She took the offer and sat in front of him.

“Rowan—” she started but he stopped her.

“No, let me go first, please.”

Aelin nodded and he took a moment to gather his thoughts. This was his chance to right his stupidity.

“I am sorry for what I said.” He told her “but I need you to understand how frightening and overwhelming this is for me.” Pine green eyes met blue “memories have started to trickle back. Some happy some more painful, but they helped me understand us a bit better. When I married you I promised we would face this adventure together.” He took a deep breath “You said that life can be unpredictable and cruel but that at each other’s side we could conquer anything.” He told her grabbing the hand that was on the bed near his leg “what I am trying to say is that if you are happy to take back a husband in less than minted condition, I will be grateful for the help.”

Aelin stood and kissed his forehead “Yeah, yeah I will take you back.” She sobbed hard, standing in front of him.

“This is not going to be easy.

“I know.” She brushed his hair in a loving motion and the gesture felt familiar to Rowan “but our marriage has withstood far worse.”

“I know. I saw a memory of it.”

Aelin sat back down, the smile disappearing from her features “but you fought for us. Even when I was so broken that I was ready to give up everything. You brought us out of the darkness.”

“Yrene said they can let me go home in a couple of days but she needs to know that I have a place where to go.”

Aelin took his hand “you are coming home.”

Rowan was in Aelin’s car and together they were driving home.

He had been so nervous that he barely slept. In the past couple of days Aelin had visited whenever she could and had discussed the new challenge ahead. Evalin was going to stay. Thomas would go to nursery but Freyja would stay with her grandma. Rowan had agreed that he could not yet be trusted with being alone with an infant.

He was nervous about meeting their kids; Thomas in particular. He was the one who remembered him the most and did not want to break the boy’s heart.

Aelin had tried to explain to Thomas that his dad had been in hospital and unwell and that his memories had disappeared. Thomas had cried at the sadness of his dad not remembering him. She had told all of that to Rowan.

“I am terrified.”

“Don’t. Acknowledge Thomas, play with him. Even if you don’t remember things just go with it.”

Rowan sighed and then he saw Aelin park in front of a lovely detached house with a garden at the front, a swing set and a tree with a treehouse.

“The tree has a treehouse on it.” He noticed, admiring their house.

Aelin chuckled, “you built it for Tom last year. You two would sleep in there from time to time and pretend to be on some sort of incredible adventure.”

Rowan smiled and then opened the door of the car and grabbed his walking stick. Dorian had assured him that it was time to leave the crutches behind and use the stick. They had practiced together until he was comfortable with it.

Aelin grabbed his bag and joined him “let’s go, mum is making lunch and I am starving.”

“You are always hungry.” He said to her and Aelin stopped in her tracks.

“What did you just say?”

“It just came out, I am sorry.”

She turned fully to him and smiled “you said that to me a lot. Together with complaining about my diet.” She took his free hand “come on buzzard, time to meet our two terrors.”

As soon as they walked into the house and Aelin announced their arrival a little blonde hurricane crashed into him, grabbing his legs “Dad, you are back.”

Rowan looked down and saw his son with his arms wrapped around his legs, green eyes shining with happiness.

His hand brushed his blonde hair “I am.”

“Mum, can I play with him?” The boy asked eagerly grabbing his father’s hand.

“Later, Tom. Dad just got back. Give him some time.”

In that instant he noticed Evalin appear with a girl in her arms “welcome home, Rowan.”

“Thank you, Evalin.” He said, not being able to stare away from the little girl. She was his clone.

Freyja seemed to recognise him and leaned forward, extending her arms to him.

Rowan looked at Aelin almost as if to ask permission and she nodded. He took the girl and sat down on the sofa. Freyja’s head leaned on his shoulder and Rowan’s hand went to her back in a protective gesture. A moment later Thomas joined them and hugged his sister and a bit of his dad.

Aelin sobbed at the scene. They had both been scared. Both worried. Because Rowan had confessed her that hurting the kids was the last thing he wanted. But now looking at that precious moment, she realised they would be fine. Thomas was easy going and Freyja always had a deeper connection with her father. And she knew, from the way Rowan had taken his daughter in his arms that no memory loss would ever took away the bond they had.

“Hi, my love.” He whispered to the girl, inhaling her scent. Freyja snuggled closer. “Come to my side, Tom.” The boy grinned and climbed on the sofa and on his knees he turned to his dad and hugged them again “I missed you, dad.”

“Well, you need to tell me everything you did while I was away.”

Aelin’s hand went to her stomach and smiled tenderly at the man in front of her. He could not yet tell his son he had missed him so he had found a way not to disappoint him.

“Mum, you come too.”

Aelin brushed her tears away and sat on the arm of the sofa just beside Rowan. It was the first time they were that close. Rowan turned his head and stared in the depths of her blue eyes. His eyes moved down to her lips and then back up. That thread between them pulled hard and before he knew it, he was kissing her. His body recognising hers. He pulled away only when he heard Thomas disgusted sounds.

Aelin stared at him with an expression he could not decipher. Maybe she was mad at him for kissing her? But it felt right. In his soul, kissing her had been right.

“You cheeky monkey.” Aelin stood and grabbed Thomas and started tickling him and the boy and Aelin’s laughter was the best music for Rowan’s ears.

After lunch was over the kids had gone out for a walk with their grandma and Aelin had given him a tour of the house. Rowan was impressed. They had a lovely house with four bedrooms and spacious enough to welcome a big family.

“You lost your parents when you were 20. They left you a nice stash of money that you never used. When we got married you used that money to buy this house. Our home.”

She sat at his side on the sofa, with a cup of herbal tea in her hands.

“I am sorry I kissed you. I should have asked first. I am sorry.” He looked away embarrassed at his gesture.

Aelin placed the tea on the table then grabbed his face with her hand and turned to him “Ro, you are my husband. You don’t have to ask for permission to kiss me.”

“I know, but I don’t know where we stand on that aspect of us.” He explained looking at her “I don’t know where I stand. I kissed you because it felt right, but I don’t think I can go any further right now.”

Aelin nodded “of course.” That was probably their last big challenge. There was so much to deal with right now that sex was very low on her priority list although her hormones were having another opinion and that kiss had awoken in her the need for him, she had to be patient “but you can kiss me anytime and without asking, if you feel like it.” And winked at him.

He gave her a smirk that was so familiar that for a moment she felt like Rowan was truly back.

She stared into his pine green eyes while her hand was still on his cheek and then she moved and her lips met his and Rowan did not pull away. He just stood for a moment but then his mouth parted and opened for her and Aelin, at the invitation, deepened the kiss feeling the need to connect with him again.

Rowan froze for an instant at the kiss but as she did not move away he let it happen and slowly he melted in the feeling of her lips on his. Aelin’s hand sneaked on his back, pulling him closer and as Aelin deepened the kiss Rowan felt a strange feeling surge in him. Was it passion? It burned in him that strange desire and when Aelin’s tongue brushed his a moan left Rowan and he pulled back, not sure about what was happening between them.

When they pulled apart they were both breathless and Aelin caressed his face and smiled “it looks like this part between us hasn’t changed.”

Rowan lifted an eyebrow and Aelin chuckled “the fire between us. Before we had the kids we sometimes spent entire days off in bed.”

The top of Rowan’s ears turned red and she giggled and kissed him again and Rowan this time did not hesitate and her hands sneaked under his t-shirt and after a few more minutes of their make out session Rowan pulled back and stared deeply at her “you are stunning,” he whispered. He had thought that from the beginning. Rowan leaned back on the sofa and Aelin snuggled closed to his chest, inhaling deeply his scent and his arm went around her back.

“If you are uncomfortable, you tell me.” She said to him, her hand close to his heart.

Rowan shook his head “this feels nice.” His head turned to her “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right.”

“Hold me.”

And Rowan pulled Aelin to him, enveloping her in his strong arms.

He thought that perhaps, with her at his side, not everything was lost.

He closed his eyes and welcomed his dreams.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelinkids #aelin galathynius #evalin galathynius #rowan x aelin #angst #domestic fluff

73 notes · View notes

greypoth0ts · 3 years

Text

it was a pretty long day

T/W: MENTIONS OF PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACK/VOMITTING

Characters: Ushijima(who else) hehe

Note: Yes I am projecting again - these days I just want to dance to LANY with the person I love. :')

It was a pretty long day - you're so worn out from work.

Work was tough, your line of work has always been tough. Not only do you nurture kids, you nurture kids with special needs. On top of teaching, you deal with emotions, tantrums & melt downs. Good days are good. Bad days.. they'll take a toll on you.

Today was tougher on a different level. Chaos in the class. Kids screaming their head off, dealing with meltdown and toileting. Refusing to cooperate, didn't want to do their work. By 3pm you were already flat out exhausted. You just really wanted to call it a day.

You know that days like these are normal. Sometimes you take it in your stride. Sometimes you just let it weigh you down. Today.. today you finished work with anxiety and it almost went onto a full blown panic attack.

"goodbye! see you tomorrow!" you said to your colleagues. Getting out of work on time. Today was just too much to put up with.

Stepping out of school gates, you felt faint. Sick to your stomach even. You tried your best not to throw up. You kept walking until you reached your train station.

"I am leaving workplace now, going to reach home in 30 mins babe." you texted Ushy. It was a Tuesday. So Ushy does not have practice on Tuesdays. He's home, waiting for you to have dinner with him.

"ok babe, waiting for you. I made some steak. Safe journey home. :)" - Ushy replied your text almost immediately.

"I'm not feeling too good, I think work was too much today. I feel like I'm going to throw up" - you replied to Ushy.

You haven't had a panic attack in awhile now. It's been years. You've kept it controlled all these years and also, Ushy played a big part in keeping it controlled. He recognises the signs and immediately helps you to snap out of it when he sees it. He tries to never let you slip into it.

You try to hold it together, your stomach in knots. You really want to throw up but you don't want to be judged. You try to find one thing to focus on. But you just can't keep your focus. You keep walking, walking and walking. It's like even though your body wants to just sprawl on public floor, your muscle memory just kept bringing you through to the train station.

Ushy kept calling. But you left your phone on silent. You were too focused on trying to suppress the attack anyway. There was no way you would be able to string your words even if you picked up the phone.

Ushy at home - worried sick. He's seen you spiral before, it's not a pretty sight. It's a sight that he hates because he is so helpless. He hates seeing you in pain, even if you get a paper cut, he makes a big hoo ha about the small wound. Thats what you love about him. He cares, and he cares so deeply. Hence he made it a point to himself to learn your first signs of panic and stop it just in time before you spiral.

He's considering to come find you and meet you half way. He would've hated if anything happened to you. But he kept his cool. He knew that the best bet is to stay home, to wait for you. He kept pacing up and down the house, he kept calling you. He is imagining the worst scenarios in his head and was on the verge of tears. But Ushijima never gives up, he just kept calling in hopes that you will pick up soon.

You survived the walk to the train station in a piece. Now the peak hour crowed made it worst. Whatever you want to let out is already at the tip. You stopped in your tracks.

Closed your eyes, took a deep breath..... steadied yourself.. and entered the train.

"keep it together, keep it together, am not going to puke in the train" - you thought to yourself repeatedly in the train.

You clench your fist so hard they leave a mark. You were bursting in cold sweat. You tried to keep your focus but you couldn't.

As soon as you turn into your house - you see Ushy at the door, walking towards your direction. Even before you could greet him, you threw up all over the floor. And as he inches closer - you reached out your hand to him, in a way to stop him from coming closer because the vomit will get all over him.

But Ushy didn't give a shit. The person he loved the most was suffering, he wanted to be there to hold you no matter the circumstances.

And you did exactly what you didn't want to - you threw up on Ushy.

"it's okay love, I'm here now. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Take all the time you need to puke, once you're done, we'll get you cleaned up." - Ushijima reassured you, with his hands on your back, patting you, hoping you feel better.

You couldn't even bring yourself to say sorry. You didn't even get a chance to. You're bent over, puking your guts out. Ushy could only pat your back and look on helplessly.

Once you're done, he took your bag, swung it on his back and princess carried you into the house. You felt better after puking your guts out but you were still in a daze.

He removed his shirt(cos you puked on him), revealing his perfectly chiseled abs. Ah, what a sight.

He then placed you gently on the sofa, went to the kitchen to take some anti nausea meds along with warm water in a flask. Bringing along some warm towels at the same time and cleaned you up.

"I'm sorry Ushy - you must be hungry and tired. But I've burdened you." - you trembled as you said this. Tears rolling down your cheeks.

You felt bad. On the day that Ushy could rest, he had to take care of you.

Gently, Ushy wiped away your tears and held you close to his chest.

"that's what I vowed to do for you - when I married you. was it not clear in my wedding vows? maybe I should rewrite to make it clearer for you." - his voice low, almost with no emotions.

You cackled. But Ushy was serious about this though. He does not understand why you're upset when you are not the issue. However, he fully understood that you had no control over your panic attacks and when he asked for your hand in marriage, he has vowed fiercely to love you and take care of you, whatever comes.

You couldn't help but feel like you're the luckiest girl to be loved by the Ushijima Wakatoshi. The ace of Japan, where he has all the girls swooning over him but he only has eyes for you. And here you are, lying on his chest. Sharing a home with him, and what a privilege it is to be loved by him.

"I am sorry - I will do better next time. I wasn't there to stop your panic attack this time round, but I will do my best.. to never let it happen again." - this took you by surprise. Why is he blaming himself over something the both of you have no control over?

You gently placed your hands on his face, thumbs circling his cheeks. "this was not your fault at all, please don't apologise. You've done so much for me. And I haven't had an attack in awhile now. Do you know why? It's all thanks to you. You always manage to detect it before I spiral. I can function almost at 90% because of you, Ushijima. Please don't ever think that you're not doing enough." - you assured him.

He nodded and kissed your forehead.

"you know what will make it all better?" - you asked Ushy.

He raised an eyebrow - "what is it, y/n? tell me and I will get it done."

"Put on my favourite album from LANY, let's dim the lights and slow dance.. it'll make me feel 100% better in no time."

"consider it done" - Ushy replied firmly.

youtube

He wasted no time in getting it done. Ushy dimmed the lights, lighted up your favourite scent of candle & put the music on.

"may I?" as he extended his arms.

"I would love to." you held onto his arms, standing up.

He held you close, your head on his chest. Feeling safe, secure and loved.

Enjoying this special moment that you both share. A love so deep.. the ocean is jealous.

reblogs & likes welcome! requests open :)

98 notes · View notes

landinoandco · 3 years

Text

|Shutter Speed|

Chapter three : A hunger for comfort and affection

{Lando Norris x reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: a hint to mature themes but only of you squint

Word count: 2.5 k

A/n: Here is chapter three of Shutter Speed, like last chapter if you would like to be added in the taglist drop me a message or comment :) enjoy

Previous chapters: Chapter one, Chapter two

“Oh Maisie.” Georgie cried, “It was the most embarrassed I think I’ve been in my entire life.” She took a long sip of her wine as she slouched into the sofa, the tv playing the medal ceremony of the England vs Italy game - Italy taking the victory.

Maisie wrapped her arm around Georgie’s shoulders, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” She said softly.

“Not that bad.” Georgie screeched, her wine splashing slightly over Maisie’s legs. Hastily, Georgie tried to wipe it off, Maisie chuckled and pushed her hands away. “What I mean to say is, I’m sure Lando didn’t think anything of it.” Maisie corrected herself, shaking her head at Georgie’s apologetic glance.

“Maisie, I stood there like a fish.” She imitated a fish opening and closing its mouth.

“Take me through what happened again-”

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for McLaren. As it turns out, you and I are about to attend the same meeting.”

Georgie stopped in her tracks, “You mean to say, we are now colleagues.”

Lando’s face dulled and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I suppose we are. Yes.” The pair stood awkwardly, Lando’s hand placed behind his neck looking up at the sky whilst Georgie had found something very interesting on the floor.

“Well I suppose I should-” Lando started as Georgie braved to look up.

“Yes, yeah, wouldn’t want to be late” She forced a chuckle, going to walk forward when they remembered - they were heading in the same direction.

Maisie cringed as her best friend recounted the story. “So what happened after that?”

“That’s when I bumped into you…”

Lando had given up trying to make small talk about 5 minutes ago - whatever he thought was there was now gone; for some reason he just couldn’t break the awkward air that seemed to be stuck to them. He looked over to her, face furiously red and her expression hardened. He swung his arms by his side and kissed his teeth - she made no reaction. Georgie was trapped in a battle of her own thoughts, she was sure there was a connection between the two of them; something she had wanted to act on but now… She looked behind her, in hopes of finding it strewn on the ground.

“There you are, Georgie.” A voice called out, immediately the girl’s face snapped up and she seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Hurt flashed Lando’s face but she didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her words trailed off as she motioned towards Lando.

“Maisie, meet Lando - he drives for McLaren.” Georgie introduced Lando, stepping closer to him. Lando raised his hand up in acknowledgement, smiling warmly at Maisie. “Lando, meet Maisie - she’s my business partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Maisie said, opening up her arms to go to hug him. Lando accepted, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Maisie. Once she had returned to where she was standing before, she said: “Suppose it won’t be the last time we see you either.” She winked at Georgie.

Maisie clicked her fingers, “Oh yes, I remember now. So that’s why it felt so awkward walking up to you.” Maisie set her wine down and moved to face Georgie, a pained expression still painted onto her face. “Did you at least get his number?”

“As a matter of fact-”

Max Fewtrell looked at his watch for the fifth time in the space of 30 seconds. They were going to be late for the football match. He shook his head, scoffing at the irony of Lando priding himself in his punctuality. It wasn’t until he looked up that he realised Lando was only a few feet away from him, ambling slowly and staring at something in his hands. “Lando, mate. We’re going to be late” Max called out, however this wasn’t enough to break Lando out of his trance.

Storming up to him, it was only when Max was about to poke him that Max stopped and stared as well. In Lando’s hand appeared to be a business card.

“Why have you got a-” Max squinted at the cursive name at the top. “The little moments- what-” Confused was one word to describe how Max was feeling, so much so he almost forgot why he was so urgent for them to leave.

“I - uh - I met a girl.” Lando stammered, still staring at the card, his forehead furrowed.

“And that’s why you have a business card? Lando, football!” Max prompted, rolling his eyes and made to move forward when Lando added: “I think this was her trying to give me her number.”

Max turned back to face Lando, his face lit up, “What?” He chortled. Whatever trance Lando was in, he seemed to snap out of it and pocketed the card.

“You’re right, let’s get going.” Lando walked past Max, who was standing staring after Lando, completely dumbfounded.

“But - what!” Max followed hurriedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was she pretty?”

“Very.” Lando said.

“You gave him your business card?” Maisie doubled over in laughter, Georgie stared at her unamused.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would have given it to him like a normal person but you insisted on dragging me out of the Marquee.” Georgie quipped sharply.

“In my defence, we were going to be late for the-”

The pair looked at Georgie’s phone as it lit up and began to shriek the theme tune of ‘Downton Abbey.’ After Maisie’s incredulous look, Georgie went to pick it up, muttering under her breath: “I can’t work out how to change it back - don’t give me that look.”

The number wasn’t one she recognised, she picked up anyway, scrunching up her face. “Hello.”

“Hi.” A breathless voice replied, Georgie recognised the voice but she couldn’t quite place who. She must have stayed silent for longer than she intended because the caller added, “It’s Lando. Lando Norris.”

“Lando? Hey.” She stood up, her voice instantly softening. “How are you?” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I called-” Lando stuttered apologetically, Georgie felt her heart sink. She repeated herself, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I - no. I just - I needed to - There was an incident and I’m on my own but-” Georgie cut him off, “Lando, where are you.” Her tone was now serious, Maise mouthed ‘what’s wrong.’ She replied by holding up her finger as if to indicate ‘one minute.’

“I’m at my house.” He replied simply, he sounded tired and in shock.

“Do you want me to come over?” Georgie asked, her heart in her throat - it was only a moment ago he apologised for calling her. Maisie stood up, throwing her hands in the air, mouthing: “what are you doing?” There was another beat of silence, she could hear his breathing, he was trying to steady it.

“Yes. Please. I’ll text you the address.” He swallowed thickly, just like Georgie, he wasn’t sure what made him call her or - even more - say yes to her coming over. It was like there was someone speaking for him, controlling all of his actions concerning her. He didn’t understand it. Lando had only learnt her name that afternoon but it felt like he had known her for months - their little coffee shop sighting felt like years ago.

After he hung up, he ran his hands through his hair. His heart was still beating as though he was about to race. He had already called Charlotte and explained everything that had just gone down after the match, he had told her that he wasn’t alone and that he had good company. Technically he wasn’t lying because good company was about to arrive. Lando wasn’t sure how long he sat in that position for, the silence of his house felt deafening until the doorbell broke his thoughts. He opened it to an anxious looking Georgie, holding the unopened bottle that her and Maisie were about to start on. “I brought us a bottle.” Lando cracked a smile, opening the door wider so she could come through.

“I’m not normally allowed but I think Jon will let me off.” He muttered, closing the door behind her. Before he could say another word, she had wrapped her arms around his neck - “You looked like you needed a hug.” He could just about make out. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into him. In that moment of vulnerability he told her what had happened at Wembley and she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face: “You’re definitely in need of that drink then.”

It was some time later and they were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa in his living room, bottles of different sorts of wine sat empty on the glass table and Georgie was having to hold onto his shoulder to stop herself from falling over. Lando had just recounted a rather funny story - in hindsight it was probably only funny because of the amount of alcohol that they had consumed. Georgie had gotten drunk before, she was the type of drunk that never stopped talking but with Lando, all she wanted was to be close to him; as demonstrated by her holding onto his shoulder as soon as he said anything remotely funny, leaning across his body to reach for the wine. What she wasn’t aware of was the effect this was then having on Lando. He was completely in awe of Georgie, her ability to come in and sweep him off of his feet - he felt as though he could completely relax in her presence, as though nothing else mattered when she was there. He craved the warmth she was offering him, she wasn’t like all of the other girls Jon scolded him for meeting. Georgie was just as nervous and naive as he was - they both loved and craved the idea of comfort and affection from another human that wasn’t platonic but neither of them had any clue how. Perhaps it was more the fact that neither of them had met anyone yet that silently understood the troubles and tribulations that had led them to his point.

They were at peace with their thoughts, the alcohol fogging any sort of rationality. Lando looked over at Georgie, a content and easy smile sat effortlessly on her lips and a tinge of pink flushed on her cheeks. He shuffled closer to her so their shoulders were pressed against each other, “I’m glad I called you.” It was almost like the words shocked him as they came out of his mouth, as though he was airing his thoughts for the first time. The smile on her face only grew, Georgie moved her face closer to his so she could see every freckle and dimple and blemish. It was the first time she realised how beautiful he was - from the way his curls fell lopsided onto his forehead to his constant licking of his lips in an attempt not to shy away. She brought her thumb to his face, brushing it delicately.

“Eyelash.” She explained, his gaze transfixed on hers, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and blew the eyelash away. “Did you make a wish?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I did.” Lando answered, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, his touch burning Georgie’s skin. He inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning across her face. She braved a look at his lips, tearing away from the battle they had once again found themselves in. “What did you wish for?” She asked, her lips brushing his.

“If I told you - ” He began, releasing her wrist from his touch and instead tucking a loose strand of her back behind her ear. “It wouldn’t come true.”

Their lips still hadn’t touched, millimeters separated them, their noses brushing as though they were the first to give in. It was like they were daring each other to make the first move, who was going to be the first one to break. Every nerve in Georgie’s body was telling her to close the distance - it felt right. It would certainly make up for that afternoon’s display. She knew that he had no obligations to kiss her and she knew that the hand now resting on her cheek was inviting her - almost taunting her.

“Lando-” She pulled her head away, his hand falling limply to his side. Georgie squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself instantly.

“I know.” He whispered, looking down at the floor.

There were many reasons why Georgie pulled away. The main fear that both of them had mutually agreed on was that if she had closed the distance and if she had kissed him - all self control on either side was gone and there was no stopping the inevitability of all mature relationships. It was something that - whilst both were desperate for - now wasn’t the time and it would lead to a series of unfortunate events neither of them wanted.

“It’s getting late.” Lando grumbled, getting up from the floor. He wasn’t mad at Georgie because he knew it was the right thing - he felt it himself but he was also aware of the large part of him that wanted to indulge, to forget about any consequences and enjoy the raw connection that they had found.

“Yes, you’re right.” Georgie felt a pang of guilt in her chest, as he refused to meet her eye. She stood there frozen, unsure where to go or what to do. “I’ll go call an uber.” She muttered, excusing herself.

“Wait-” Lando called out to her, “Stay.”

Georgie looked at him, confusion etched on her face. Lando took a step towards her, his jaw tightened. He knew come morning he was probably going to regret what he was about to do, it was like he was teasing himself - setting himself up for another heartbreak. But this time it had to be different. It had to be.

“Please, I don’t think I want to be alone.” It was raw emotion talking and a new side to Lando that Georgie didn’t think she would ever see. She knew come morning she was going to regret what she was about to say, it was like she was leading herself down a hole that in the end she wasn’t going to be able to get out of.

“Ok.” She gave a half smile and reached for Lando’s hand.

That night they stayed in each other's arms. Relishing in the comfort they gave to one another, both wishing that tomorrow would never come.

Taglist:

@mjuikoli @httplayer @phatyak

108 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

79 notes · View notes

amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Summary: She may mean the world to Iwaizumi Hajime but at the end of the day, Oikawa Tooru is his star.

AO3 Link here

Sequel: Broken Compass

She used to think the universe intended for her to literally crash into one Iwaizumi Hajime.

One of her first assignments as a writer for one of the country’s top sports magazines was to cover the Japanese volleyball team’s season, and despite constant reminders from her editors not to screw this up because the men’s volleyball team is crazy popular these days, she manages to trip over her own feet and knock not just herself, but the newly minted team trainer to the ground.

When she lifts her head from the ground, the first thing that hits her mind is - goodness, he’s hot - he’s a veritable god among men, all sinewy muscles and sunkissed skin, and she can’t bring herself to speak as he carefully checks her once over for any signs of injury. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks her, and she nods dumbly as he pulls her to her feet and waves her off with a warm smile. The heat from his hands lingers on her skin long after she goes to bed that night.

They meet again at the next match. He remembers her name, she gives him a friendly wave. Then at the next match, she cheekily asks for his comments and he huffs a laugh as he directs her to the team’s PR manager. By the end of the season, she works up the courage to ask him out for coffee, and he says yes .

Iwaizumi Hajime is everything she dreamt of in a partner - kind, caring, steady, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He always wraps his arm around her to pull her close when they walk along the edge of the road, and indulges her pleas for an extra cuddle – ‘ the last one, I promise! ’ - every morning when he leaves for work. They exchange long text messages late into the night when either of them are on the road, and nag each other for working too hard. When they lay in bed at night, he whispers promises filled with love against her skin, tells her he can trace the constellations in her eyes.

It makes it so easy for her to close her eyes and believe that their love is written in the stars, so a year later when he asks her to marry him, she doesn’t hesitate to jump into his arms and say yes . The weight of the silver band he slips on her finger grounds her with his love, and her heart is full.

She can’t stop feeling like a thief who’s snatched the sun from the sky.

Oikawa Tooru is to be his best man of course.

She knows who he is, she’s covered the sport long enough to have heard about him - the prodigious setter from Miyagi who never made it once to Nationals despite his obvious talent (an exquisitely crafted katana is, after all, no match for the brute force of a cannon), who spit in the face of fate and chased his dreams to sunnier lands.

Iwaizumi has always been awfully fond of regaling her with stories of Oikawa, so much so that she thinks she can piece together their relationship - childhood friends turned longtime teammates, the long suffering ace and the monstrously brilliant setter. She watches his face soften uncharacteristically when he reads news about his old friend winning a match, and hardens when Oikawa whines loudly during their video calls about his bruises and sore knee. She can’t help but think Iwaizumi must have been like Jupiter, a god in his own right, drawn into orbit around Oikawa, a star burning over-bright.

She knows they remain best friends despite their separation by whole continents, keeping in contact via video calls and text messages, playing hopscotch with the time difference. They certainly look like it when they greet each other at the airport, Oikawa trilling a playful ‘ Iwa-channn’ and Iwaizumi grunting at him to ‘shut up, they’re in public, dumbass!’, exchanging back slaps so loud it makes her wince.

‘You must be the poor fiancee’, Oikawa gives her an exaggerated leer as he stands before her, hands on hips. ‘What did Iwa-chan drug you with to get you to marry him? Do you know he snores like a monster in his sleep? You know you can back out before the wedding right? Blink once if you’re ok, and twice if you’re not - and I’ll help you escape from him.’

Before she can respond to that frankly impertinent speech, Iwaizumi roars ‘Shut-up, Shittykawa’, tackling him into a headlock and wrestling him off into their car. She stifles a laugh as they spend the rest of the ride to Oikawa’s hotel room bickering back and forth.

‘How did you manage to pack so much luggage for a two week stay, you vain piece of crap!’

‘I care about my looks and grooming - unlike some of us who skulk around in clothes they’ve worn since high school!’

‘Vainpot.’

‘Beast.’

‘Piece of shit’

‘Meanie’

Iwaizumi alternates between grunting and growling at Oikawa’s nonsense but his eyes are shining (so bright that she can see stars) and Oikawa’s retorts are punctuated with smiles that are impossibly wide. She thinks to herself it’ll be good for Iwaizumi to have Oikawa around.

Oikawa starts to call her ‘ Chibi-chan ’ especially when Hajime is around to be annoyed by it – she admits she’s short, but not that short, it’s just that he spends most of his time surrounded by literal giants - and develops an irritating habit of ambushing her with quizzes about Hajime's likes and dislikes.

'Favourite food?'

'Agedashi tofu.'

'Favourite movie?'

'Godzilla.’

After a few rounds of these pop quizzes, she looks at him like he's sprouted a second head. ‘Seriously, Oikawa-san, we're getting married in less than two weeks. Do you seriously think I wouldn't know the most obvious things about my own fiancé?'

'Don't frown, Chibi-chan, you'll grow wrinkles and look old', he sing songs at her. 'I'm just making sure you're worthy of Iwa-chan's love!'

'Stop bullying my fiancée, Shittykawa, or I'll beat you up so bad you can't move'. Iwaizumi rubs lazy circles against her back, and she leans against him comfortably.

'Aww Iwa-chan, once a bone head, always a bone head’, Oikawa says, scrunching his face into a mock-sniff. ‘Say, Chibi-chan, do you know Iwa-chan would beat me up ‘til I let go all the cicadas we caught, but if they died, he would cry?'

‘Are you calling me a crybaby, Shittykawa’, Iwaizumi growls dangerously, simmering down only when she coos at him, ‘that’s so cute, you must have been such a sweet child’.

Then, sensing that her presence is probably stopping the boys from catching up fully, she shoos them out of the apartment on the premise that they should get some fresh air and cool off but really so they can get some much needed time together. ‘ And stop fighting’ , she calls after them, making good use of the quiet to busy herself with wedding preparations.

When Iwaizumi finally returns home late that night, he finds her asleep on the couch, and with a soft smile he curls up around her. ‘Hajime?’ she breathes, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he has to bite back the urge to cover her face with kisses, tightening his hold on her instead.

‘I’m back’, he whispers, his breath warm against her neck. ‘Sorry I was out so long’.

‘It’s fine’, she mumbles sleepily. ‘Did you guys have fun?’

‘Yeah - we went for dinner and then Oikawa dragged me to at least five different bakeries to find the perfect milk bread before he was willing to go for drinks’, he complains. ‘And he made me promise to go for drinks with Issei and Hanamaki tomorrow afternoon before we meet with the wedding coordinator’.

‘Mm’, she hums absently. ‘Oikawa seemed a little on edge earlier. I’m glad he calmed down and had fun with you’.

Iwaizumi frowns into her hair, thinking back to Oikawa’s inexplicable needling of her earlier. ‘Sweetheart, if Oikawa is irritating you, I'll make him stop’.

‘It’s fine’, she says, with a little more force than she intended, waving away the concerned look he gives her. ‘He’s your best friend, Hajime. I think he's just feeling a little insecure. You should spend more time with him while you still can’.

He grins and kisses her warmly. ‘You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?’

‘Because the universe willed that I love you’, she answers, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

But Oikawa manages to find a way to wreck her well made plans.

Iwaizumi finds her in the kitchen, back turned towards him, and the slam of the dishes on the counter makes him wince. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart’, he tells her, wincing when she shrugs off his hand.

'You skipped our appointment with our wedding coordinator', she hisses, whirling around to face him. ‘But that’s not the worst of it - do you know how scared I was when you didn’t pick up my calls? I thought you got hurt or heaven forbid - got run over by a car and died, Hajime!’

‘I’m sorry’, he repeats, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 'I got engrossed in catching up with Hanamaki and Issei, and Oikawa stole my phone so I lost track of time. I kicked his ass for it, you could've heard him whining about it from outer space’. He slyly slides an arm around her waist, resisting her attempts to pull away as he buries his nose in her hair. ‘I'll make it up to you, I promise'.

'Make sure you do', she huffs, leaning into his warmth. ‘And what was Oikawa’s reason for stealing your phone?’

‘You know Shittykawa, he probably thought he was being cute. I’ll make him apologise,’ Hajime replies, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck.

She relaxes a fraction, breathing in his familiar scent - fresh linen and pine and home, but that doesn't ease the knot of something - she can't quite put her finger on what it is just yet - weighing down in her chest.

True to his word, Iwaizumi drags Oikawa by his ear to lunch with them the next day, not letting go until he apologises to her with an appropriately chastened expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Chibi-chan, I shan’t do it again’, he tells her contritely, but when Iwaizumi’s back is turned, he shoots her a puckish grin brimming with mischief that makes her toes curl.

She ignores him, and lets herself be drawn into the flow of their conversation - Oikawa complaining incessantly about Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio whom she’s met many times in the past few months and he shoots her dirty looks when she archly tells him that she thinks they’re lovely men, Iwaizumi getting on Oikawa’s case again for not eating enough, for not sleeping enough, barely able to restrain himself from violence when Oikawa responds with a trilled ‘ Iwa-chan, you sound like my mother ’.

The conversation meanders off to their Seijoh teammates she’s not terribly familiar with, so she’s caught off guard when Oikawa abruptly turns to her with shit-eating grin and asks innocently ‘Say, Chibi-chan, what about Iwa-chan caught your eye?’

‘Have you looked at him?’ she says, playfully nudging a blushing Iwaizumi with her elbow. ‘He’s built like a god.’

Oikawa’s smile turns sickly sweet, showing far too much teeth. ‘In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t go for one of the volleyball players instead. Or was Iwa-chan your last attempt? You’re twenty-five this year, after all.’

A glance in Iwaizumi’s direction shows her exactly what she expects - first, his mouth drops open in a wide-eyed, open mouthed gape, then fury burns white hot across his face, and she has to grab his hand before he causes a scene by throwing himself bodily across the table to strangle the smirk off Oikawa’s face. ‘I can fight my own battles’, she mouths at him, willing him to stay in his seat, her hand still pressed firmly against his.

‘Well, you did ask me what first attracted me to Hajime, and I didn’t lie - I was really drawn by his looks’.

She inhales and lets herself be drawn back to the warmth of the memory of tumbling head first into Iwaizumi’s arms, and exhales to look squarely at Oikawa. ‘But then I fell for his kindness, his steadfastness, his patience - and when he told me he loved me, I felt as if the universe had handed me the sun, the moon and the stars’.

Her answer must have touched Oikawa’s shrivelled little heart, she thinks to herself, because something in his eyes shutters and a look of respect streaks across his face. ‘Well said, Chibi-chan, well said’, he says begrudgingly. ‘Iwa-chan is lucky to have you’.

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and when she and Iwaizumi are finally back home, he corners her as she’s about to go to bed and asks quietly - ‘Sweetheart, did you really mean all of that?’

‘Of course I do. I love you, Hajime. Do you need me to count the ways?’

‘Maybe’, he responds playfully, circling his arms around her as she pulls him to bed. She lies in his embrace, ear pressed to his chest and falls asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the ebb and flow of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Iwaizumi calls out that he’ll be gone to the bar down the street for an hour or two to vet Oikawa’s best man speech, she certainly did not expect him to burst back into their flat with Oikawa held bridal style in his arms. It would have been a comical sight - Oikawa’s bulky frame dwarfing even Iwaizumi, legs looking ludicrously long dangling over Iwaizumi’s arms - but for the frantic expression of Iwaizumi’s face and the desperate way Oikawa clings to Iwaizumi’s neck.

‘Idiot bumped his knee while doing shots’, Iwaizumi explains to her distractedly, as he settles Oikawa onto their couch. ‘I don’t think it’s serious, but I’ll take him to the doctor in the morning to check him out just in case. Brought him to our place since it’s closer than his hotel room, and I can keep an eye on him overnight’.

She hands him an ice pack. ‘Why don’t you two take our bed, and I’ll take the couch? He’ll be more comfortable that way, and you can watch over him at night.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iwaizumi frowns, and she nods, pushing him towards his friend while she turns to fetch a set of spare pyjamas for their unexpected guest. Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa to their bed and together, they strip him of his clothes and, mindful of his knee, gingerly slide him into clean clothes.

‘Iwa-chan’, she hears the lanky setter whine as she makes to leave the room to bring an extra ice pack. Turning her head, she catches a glimpse of Hajime bending over Oikawa’s form. She’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, but she swears she saw Iwaizumi brush his fingers against Oikawa’s forehead with a quiet tenderness he’s only ever shown to her, tucking his hair behind his ears. For some reason, it makes her heart clench.

She’s gathering the discarded clothes up from the floor whilst Iwaizumi’s in the shower, when Oikawa shoots his hand out to grab her wrist. ‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, a plaintive note in his voice. ‘I tore it up – I should never have tried to tell him.’

‘What?’ She gives him a bewildered stare. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Iwa-chan’, he slurs, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath as she moves closer to him to catch his words. ‘He got mad with me, madder than I’ve ever seen him before.’

‘You mean Hajime? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay mad with you, whatever it is you’ve done.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry’, he manages to say, and starts to cry. She flounders, unsure whether to comfort him herself or call for Hajime to deal with him (because she’s not stupid, it’s painfully obvious he resents her), but the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that she can't bring herself to leave him alone even for a minute, so she sits next to him on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand against his back while he soaks her sleeve with hot tears. ‘You’re drunk and injured, Oikawa-san. You should rest’, she murmurs, easing him back against his pillow when his sobs cease and he seems to calm down.

As she bends down again to pick up his clothes, he gives a cry of alarm and tries to grab her wrist again, almost flipping himself off the bed. Hearing the commotion, Iwaizumi rushes into the room, hair still wet from his shower, barking loudly ‘you idiot’, forcing Oikawa to lie back down onto the bed. She backs out of the room, leaving Hajime to comfort his sobbing friend.

She doesn’t think too much about Oikawa’s strange words, mentally writing it off as another one of his odd little quirks. But as she’s folding up his pants, a stack of torn papers falls out of its pocket, and she thinks she recognises the words ‘Iwa-chan’ scribbled all over it. Though she knows it’s wrong to invade his privacy – especially when he’s in no position to defend it, she can’t help but be curious, reasoning to herself that it must be his best man’s speech, she should at least vet through it once before the wedding.

It isn’t hard to piece the scraps of paper together, the tears uneven, as if made in a fit of panic or rage. It is, as she thought, Oikawa’s best man speech, and it starts out as expected, with well wishes to Iwaizumi and her. But as she continues reading, running her finger over each word, etched so harshly into each page that the ink bleeds, it becomes evident that that isn’t the only thing Oikawa meant to say.

‘I know it’s too late, but I love you, Iwa-chan’, she reads with growing horror on the very last page, a suspicious water stain next to these words. Mind whirling, unable to process what she’s just read, she sits at the kitchen table reading and re-reading his words until her vision starts to blur.

‘There are times I wonder if I chose wrong, if I should have held fast to you, the other half of my soul rather than going off to fight in hopeless wars, because I should have known you won’t always be waiting for me to come home. But I will always love you - like the moon loves the sun, even if I can only watch you from afar, so full of light’.

She should be furious – she should head straight to Oikawa and scream and shout and stamp her foot at him, because how dare he say these things now when he’s had forever to say them to Iwaizumi before she even came into the picture – how dare he wait until she and Iwaizumi are less than ten days away from being wed. But she doesn’t, because deep inside her, she understands.

How can she begrudge his love when they love the same man?

‘Sweetheart’, she faintly hears Iwaizumi say, squinting in the light as he emerges from the dark bedroom. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, his voice heavy with concern when he catches sight of her tear stained face.

She wants to tell him that everything’s just fine – but his gaze shifts to the torn papers in her trembling hands and she knows immediately everything is not fine at all when he looks back at her with guilt and anguish branded on his face.

‘Did you know?’ she asks, hating the way her voice starts to break.

‘He told me just now’, he tells her heavily, dropping into the seat across her, his hands cradling his head.

‘Do you love him?’ she demands, ignoring the sob that’s threatening to tear itself out of her chest.

He looks up at her. There are tears in his eyes.

‘Yes’, he admits. ‘I don’t want to, but I do’.

His words knock the oxygen from her lungs, leaving her with a crater in her chest. He loves Oikawa Tooru, this beautiful, brilliant, broken boy, incandescent with the light of a thousand stars.

Where does that leave her?

(Stranded in the dust, abandoned in the dark)

She suddenly feels as if she’s trapped in her own skin, a vise that’s far, far too tight, burning with the need to turn herself inside out. ‘I need to go’, she manages to spit out, stumbling over her feet. He stands in alarm, reaching towards her but she slaps his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me’, she hisses, grabbing her wallet and phone through a haze of tears.

‘Where are you going to go?’ he demands, barring the door with his large frame. ‘It’s late, it’s not safe.’

‘Anywhere that’s not here’, she snarls, trying to shoulder her way through. ‘Let me go, Hajime – I can’t stay here, please, let me go!’ She slams her fists against his chest, collapsing to the floor at his feet when she realises it’s impossible to break through the immovable force that is Iwaizumi Hajime.

‘Let me go somewhere that isn’t here’, she begs him, hiccupping through her tears. ‘You’re hurting me more by making me stay here with him’.

He sinks to his knees to cup her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry’, he sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I lose you too’.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already has ( because she can’t stay, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts), and when her stillness convinces him it’s safe to turn his back to her for a second, she slips through the door and disappears into the night. She hears him shout her name, hears the anguish in his voice, but she doesn’t stop running until she’s safely ensconced in a nearby hotel room.

Her phone keeps buzzing through the night. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime ’, it reads, ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, flashes on her screen, again and again. She tries her best to ignore it, turning her phone on to silent mode, leaving it face down on the dresser but she can’t - her ears still echoing with the heart wrenching panic in his voice. So she rolls over to her phone and sends him a text – ‘ I’m fine, go to bed, you have a doctor’s appointment with Oikawa to worry about tomorrow morning’ – quickly switching it off before he can flood her inbox with desperate calls and texts.

She tries her best to fall asleep, but she ends up lying awake, counting the cracks in the ceiling. The air in the room is far, far too still, and she feels like she’s suffocating, buried alive from the sand and dirt and earth pouring into the cavity in her chest. Against her better judgment, she uncorks the cheap spirits in the hotel minibar and pours herself shots, one after another, until she drops off to sleep with a single thought swirling around her head.

The universe isn’t fair - because first it gave her Hajime, then it took him away.

It is noon when she wakes, sunlight streaming mercilessly into the room. She sits up with a groan, rubbing a hand across her face. For a second, she wonders where she is, the monochrome sheets so different from the cheerful patterns she uses in their room, before reality slams into her like a comet to her chest.

Right. That happened .

She can scream and cry and try to scratch the face of fate but it won’t change matters. Hiding away from the world isn’t going to make the cruel joke that is her love life go away, so she grits her teeth and steels herself, washing her face and paying the bill before heading home (though if she’s honest with herself, she’s not sure if it’ll be home for much longer).

She prays to god or whatever deity there is out there (not the universe, it has a funny way of throwing shit her way) that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be home, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not listening because Iwaizumi opens the front door while she’s still struggling with her keys. It takes just one look at him for the pain in her chest to make its presence felt again.

‘How’s Oikawa’s knee?’ she casually inquires, edging around him to slip into the flat. Oikawa doesn’t seem to be around, so she lets herself relax just an inch.

‘It’s fine’, he responds, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Just needs some rest’.

‘That’s good’, she says absently, heading straight for the kitchen, ignoring him as he follows her steps. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, pulling leftover rice and dashi stock out of the fridge. He nods dumbly as she heats them both up to assemble two bowls of Ochazuke . Her heart may be broken, but her stomach certainly isn’t, and she’s not about to let herself wither away. He looks at her dumbly as she slides his bowl at him, and neither of them says a word until she leans back in her chair, satisfied with her meal.

‘Are we going to talk?’ he asks her confusedly.

‘About last night? What is there left to talk about?’ she replies, keeping her composure firm. ‘The wedding’s off obviously, so we need to inform all our vendors and guests as soon as possible. I think I should be the one to move out of the flat – ‘

He cuts her off frantically – ‘What? Why would we call off our wedding? I still love you, and you still love me, don’t you?’

She gapes at him incredulously. ‘Hajime, you told me last night that you love Oikawa. How is our marriage going to work if you love someone else?’

‘But I love you’, he says, his voice cracking. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

No it isn’t, and she’s shaking her head because it isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough, because he may love her but he’s in love with him – has been since they were little boys with stars in their eyes. And his shoulders shake and it’s his turn to cry because he loves her, he really does, he knows greed is a sin but he wants both him and her, and he wishes that it could be enough.

‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you’, she tells him, eyes dry, but there’s a tremble in her voice that she can’t hide - because she’s so stupid, she should have figured this out long before she dug out her heart and handed it to him - but then again maybe she didn’t because she was blinded by staring too long at the sun.

‘You will grow to resent me if I keep him from you and besides, how could I possibly compare?’

Because Oikawa Tooru, blessed with innate brilliance and cursed with a penchant for self-immolation, burns brighter than a thousand stars.

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, rounding the table to drop to his knees before her, the look in his eyes so heartbreakingly sad that she has to choke back a sob. ‘You meant the world to me’, he whispers brokenly as he buries his face in her lap.

‘I know’, she answers him – and gods, her heart is screaming and it hurts - but she loves him so much she knows it’s only right to let him go. ‘But the world will move on, and you need to chase the stars while you still have them in your sight’.

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and this time she gives in and joins him, her tears soaking his hair. He wraps his arms around her as she presses kisses into his skin and they stay that way for a while, their limbs entwined, because it finally dawns on both of them that this is it - it truly is the end of them.

The sun may set and the moon may rise, but the stars - they burn bright in the sky.

Her love for him should die (from earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust) – but it doesn’t.

She packs her life into cardboard boxes and shifts into her sister’s flat. Iwaizumi doesn’t allow her to pay for the cancellation of their wedding, takes all responsibility for informing their guests that the wedding’s off - he says it’s his fault after all, and she doesn’t resist, knowing it’s his way of trying to make amends.

His face crumples and he tries to refuse her when she returns his ring, but she insists - because it doesn’t feel right, she can’t seem to smile when the silver band catches the sun's light. He doesn’t tell her he keeps it in a box beside his bed, and opens it from time to time.

Oikawa manages to weasel her sister’s address out of Iwaizumi and appears on her doorstep the day before he’s due to return to Argentina with a bushel of white lilies in his arms.

‘Wait!’ he cries, catching the door with his foot as she tries to slam it into his face, cursing the reflexes of a professional athlete. ‘I won’t take too much of your time’, he promises, and she folds her arms, glaring at him expectantly.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve treated you and Hajime terribly, haven’t I’, he asks her shamefacedly.

‘You have’, she tells him coldly, because she desperately wants to blame him for everything bad that's come her way but when he hangs his head, she can’t help but soften her tone. ‘But I understand, Oikawa. How could I blame you when I love the same man?’

‘I don’t deserve your kindness’, he responds quietly, after a pause.

‘But you have it’, she tells him. ‘So live and be happy, for his and my sake’.

When he leaves, she closes the door and sinks to the floor, burying her nose in his offering of lilies. Its scent is cloying sweet, but she can only taste the bitterness of ash in her mouth.

A year later, and she’s back covering the Japanese men’s volleyball season when she runs into one Iwaizumi Hajime again.

He is the first to speak, asking her a genial ‘how are you’, to which she replies ‘fine’, though she really means - ‘I may be wounded, but I am still standing on my feet’. But Iwaizumi understands - he always does , and they stay silent for a while.

She picks up the courage to ask after Oikawa, and she knows he’s trying his best not to light up as he tells her that though he’s back in Argentina, they’re pursuing a long distance relationship. In turn, she tells him about her new boyfriend, ruefully mentioning that though she tried to stay clear of volleyball boys, Akaashi Keiji not only used to play volleyball in high school, but is the best friend (and former setter) of Bokuto Koutaro, national team player and self-proclaimed ace. He laughs at that - but she does not mention it is a relationship born out of the heartbreak reflected in both of their eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks her before they part. It’s ironic because these are the first words he’s ever said to her, but she swallows the memory and this time she responds truthfully.

‘It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there, one day at a time’.

They exchange bittersweet smiles.

It’s enough for now.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu fic rec #haikyu x reader #oikawa x iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa angst #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi scenarios

654 notes · View notes