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imaginesntingz · 3 years

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Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

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You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

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fatgum-sugarplum · 3 years

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honey make this easy

For @natsuonii and @viixens Creature Feature Collab!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Violence mention, death mention, murder mention, blood mention, choking, light condescension, bittersweet ending, smut

It was his eyes. Those dark eyes that held you in your sleep, following you through nightmare and dream alike, those dark eyes that belonged to a dead man.

“We killed you. You’re dead.” The words were barely a whisper in the dim light of the room. They trembled like your limbs.

“It didn’t take.”

18+ Only Minors DNI

It had been quite awhile since that fateful night, the night you’d chosen exactly whose side you were on. No going back from what you’d done. Nights like this it kept you awake, the images running through your mind like some movie you’d seen one too many times. You always revisited it somehow. You shouldn’t feel guilty for it, not with everything that’s come after, not with the lows you’d sunk to since, but somehow…

It was his eyes. They were dark enough to fall into and drown and if things had been different you could see yourself doing exactly that over and over again. Instead he was six feet under and you were absolutely the one who put him there whether you pulled the trigger yourself or not. You’d thrown your lot in with your current employer and hardly looked back. Everyone after him had been a breeze, some of them you even sent under entirely on your own. Their eyes didn’t haunt you, their voice a ghost in your ears. They didn’t make you wish you’d been different, not like he did.

Tonight it should have been something else keeping you awake. Bodies had been piling up, bodies of people you knew and worked with. Eviscerated brutally, but according to the whispers that was never the cause of death. No matter the cuts and lacerations, every last one had the telltale angry purple markings across their neck of strangulation. To hear your partner say it, it looked like a hell of a painful way to go. It should be thoughts of them coming for you next. Instead it was that long ago night that you just couldn’t seem to get away from.

A sound somewhere in the quiet of your apartment caught your attention. It was mundane enough, a sort of rustling sound that easily could have been the curtains or your cat, but some deep instinct inside of you awoke that said it was anything but the usual. Your hair stood on edge and all you could think of was danger. You sat up in bed staying stock still as you strained your ears to hear anything else. A heavy silence was all that hung, somehow a physical weight on your chest and shoulders, threatening to choke you with its presence. Something was wrong. Something was here. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the sensation made you feel distinctly prey-like.

Slowly you put your feet to the floor and started your way out of your bedroom, groping blindly for the first thing you could grab for a weapon as you kept your eyes up, scanning the room. You froze in your motions when your eyes finally landed on a figure in the corner of the room next to the now open window. It was tall, masculine as best you could tell in the darkness, wearing all black. Despite everything about your occupation as the right hand to a villain, dangerous in your own right, you found yourself shaking. You opened your mouth to ask him who he was when he moved, sliding the window closed and reaching next to him to flick on the light.

It was his eyes. Those dark eyes that held you in your sleep, following you through nightmare and dream alike, those dark eyes that belonged to a dead man.

“We killed you. You’re dead.” The words were barely a whisper in the dim light of the room. They trembled like your limbs.

“It didn’t take.” The voice was gruff, low. You remembered it well.

“Why are you here? How did you even find me?” You paused, a cold realization hitting you. The bodies. Quieter this time, “Are you going to kill me?”

He didn’t answer, moving from his place near the window to your couch where he lounged far too casually. He didn’t regard you fully, instead glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Clearly he wasn’t concerned about you attempting to fight him. “Where’s your boss?”

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked again, moving slightly closer to him on shaking legs.

“Are you going to answer?”

You swallowed. Did you want to live? Absolutely. Betraying your boss would kill you just as quickly as he would, though maybe less painfully. Maybe. He just as easily could torture you for hours for your insurrection, make you die begging and pleading for forgiveness because there’d be no point in begging for your life. But maybe…

“I find it hard to believe that none of us answered.” Your voice had more of its steel back now.

He sighed and ran a hand through a mess of black hair. For some reason the only thing you could think of was how soft it looked. How it might feel between your own fingers. You shook the thought away before it could take root any further. “Think so little of your colleagues?” The question had no actual interest in it.

“I just don’t think many of us are so blindly loyal that we’d rather die than turn in our employer. We can find other work.”

“Are you?”

“I’m deciding.” You moved to your arm chair across from the couch, closer than he seemed to expect by the raised eyebrow and quiet interest in your form.

“What is he to you?”

“Money.”

“You’d kill a stranger for money.”

“I didn’t kill you.”

“Funny how you thought I meant me.” He sat up then, leaning in. You noted how he seemed almost weary. Was it some sort of trick to make you feel more at ease before the kill? Or was it an unintentional slip of a mask? Maybe he just didn’t care what you saw. You didn’t care to question it much further.

“So what are you then?” You leaned back in the chair. “We buried you.”

“Like I said, it didn’t take.” He chuckled, the noise sending a heat through your limbs you didn’t expect. He spread his arms in a mock showmanship and in an exaggerated and exhausted tone, “I’ve returned for my vengeance.”

You snorted. “Been working your way up the chain? Half of these people weren’t even working with us when…” you swallowed.

“When your boss put a bullet between my eyes? I know. It’s the message that counts, I think,” He frowned. Definitely a slip.

“Do you...know what you’re doing?” You ventured.

“Most of the time.”

“He’s either at the base or his apartment.”

“Good girl.” He rumbled. That sent a shiver down your spine, the heat in your core growing worse. God, he had to know, didn’t he? He stood, patting your head twice before starting for the window again.

“Wait.” You didn’t turn but heard his footsteps stop. “What are you going to do?”

“I thought a smart thing like you would know.”

“I was there. Why only kill him?” Maybe it wasn’t the best question to ask a man who’d already murdered several of your colleagues, but thinking before you spoke was never your strong suit. You felt more than heard him turn to regard you, and then he was at your back, a hand on the chair as he leaned into your ear.

“It’s all purpose, drive. I want to sink a knife into him and let him see just how it feels. You…” he paused and you could swear you heard him growl, “I think I’ll sink something else into you.” And then he was gone.

The next two hours passed at a snail’s pace. You couldn’t get back to the comfort of your bed and so opted for returning to the armchair you’d previously been in, curling up as you turned on the television for background noise. You thumbed your phone and swallowed down a nervous lump. What did you just do? What if word got out, what if they all knew you’d done it? You could skip town. You’d done it before, you could do it again. Disappear, become a ghost--

No. No, no one would know. You had to believe that. No one would know, and this...man? Monster? Your own ghost? You knew his name, saw it in the news, why was it so damn hard to just think of him with his name. He--Aizawa--wouldn’t come back and you’d be left alone to follow the new boss or pack up and find your own. Hell, maybe it was all a dream. Dead men don’t walk.

But you wanted him to come back, didn’t you? Wanted to hear that growl in your ear again, the strangely alluring danger of his presence. Wanted to know what the strength he possessed that led so many of your colleagues to the grave could do when pinning you to your bed. They weren’t useful thoughts but god were they not going away any time soon.

Your eyes snapped to the window as a soft click reached your ears and broke through your thoughts. Sure enough there was the form you’d been half hoping and half dreading to see once more, crawling through with a predator’s ease. It set goosebumps dancing across your skin, a soft warmth radiating from your abdomen through the rest of your body. Your eyes met his and for a brief moment you imagined him a secret lover sneaking through your window at night against both of your better judgement. The metallic scent of blood threw you out of that fantasy fast enough, grounded you to the reality of the situation. He maybe hadn’t been before--no, he certainly hadn’t been before--but he was a killer now. A killer who had dispatched most of the crew you ran with. Could you have been so stupid as to believe he wasn’t viewing you as a loose end? So daft as to think the words he’d left you with earlier weren’t malice?

“You’re still here.” His deep voice broke the silence between you. You swallowed.

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“The smart thing would have been to run.” He crossed to you, slow and deliberate, “After all, what can I do to you? You must have thought it over, you’re an intelligent girl.” If anyone else had dared to call you a girl of all things you’d have put a bullet between their eyes. As it stood, hearing it rumble from his chest had you clenching around nothing.

“Maybe I wanted to see what you meant by ‘something else.’” You mused, swallowing down any fear. He chuckled at that, leaning in as he placed a hand on the back of the chair above you. He dwarfed you in this position. The smell of blood was stronger now with him so close, but you couldn’t make out any of it on him. It was almost as though he was the scent. Like the deed he’d just done marked him somehow. It thrilled you more than it should have.

He brought his face close to yours so his breath ghosted across your lips as he spoke, “You know, for a woman who stood by while her boss murdered me...you’re awful compelling.”

“Compelling?” The question was far quieter and breathier than you meant for it to be. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, so loud you could swear he could hear it. His soft chuff of amusement didn’t help with that notion.

He ran the back of his free hand slowly down your cheek, along your jaw, down your neck. His eyes never left yours, watching for every minute reaction. You were giving him a damn feast, your pupils dilated, your lips trembling, short, soft breaths leaving your slightly parted mouth. He wanted to eat you up, take everything you’d give him and then some, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to savor this last meal.

Aizawa had felt himself slipping the minute your boss’s body had crumpled to the floor in front of him. He didn’t question why the force that had pulled him from the grave decided you weren’t on his revenge list. He was more than happy to leave you alive, more than happy to use his last night on this earth absolutely ravaging your body. He’d left that place without his customary clean up, quite aware that even if there was evidence left behind it wouldn’t matter to him come morning. Besides, he had a different kind of prey to get back to.

Now here you were, trembling beneath him, so beautifully conflicted between if you should run or if you should give in. As his hand ghosted across the skin of your neck he turned it suddenly, pressing down ever so slightly. Your breath hitched as you involuntarily arched it into his grasp, a silent plea for more. A beat. Your eyes locked together. A beat.

All at once the tension snapped as his lips came crashing down on yours with a growl that was absolutely feral. You moaned into the kiss, hands coming up to tangle in that soft hair as you roughly tugged. He groaned in kind, pressing down harder against your neck, just enough to cut off your airway. The deprivation was absolutely delicious. His heated kisses started to trail along your jaw, mixed with rough nips and licks. You angled your body in an attempt to press it up against his and he chuckled.

“What a needy little mouse…” He let go of your neck and listened to you take that instinctive gasp of breath to fill your lungs once again. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, biting down hard. You whined, tugging hard at his hair again which earned you a growl in turn. Fuck you needed him in you.

“P-please…”

“Please what, little mouse?”

“Need more, please!” You whimpered out, squirming in that chair. He watched you with such a fierce hunger in his eyes you were certain you’d die on the spot.

“More what, little mouse? Be specific for me.”

God damnit. You squirmed more, movements desperate. “Need you against me, please...want you in me…” Some part of you registered that you were supposed to have more dignity than this. Maybe it was the danger or the regret or some fucked up mix of the two but he was making you absolutely dizzy with want in a way no one else had before.

“There we go. Was that so hard?” He practically purred into your ear just before yanking you up against his frame. You remembered how strong he’d been before, how difficult putting him down had been for you and your boss, but god it was like it had been enhanced tenfold. You pushed against him, hands feeling along the corded muscles beneath his clothes as he kissed you, walking you backwards toward your bedroom.

You managed somehow to not stumble, falling back the second you felt your legs hit your bed. You scrambled back up to the pillows, keeping your eyes on him the entire time as he followed you on hands and knees. He reminded you of a panther stalking its prey, gorgeous and so very lethal. You shivered, biting your lip at the thought. He brought his lips to yours again, tongue finding its way into your eager open mouth to taste you.

You started at his shirt, tugging it up as far as you could without his help. He broke the kiss long enough to tug it over his head and throw it to the side before diving back in, holding you close against him as your hands traveled along his bare skin. It didn’t take long for him to treat you in kind, hands fisting in the material of your flimsy tank top and wrenching it violently. The sound of ripping fabric sent a jolt of pleasure through you. You could get a new top later, right now all you cared about was getting the rest of these damn clothes out of the way.

You pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, impatiently kicking them off the second you could. He watched you, not bothering with his own further than moving them down enough to pull his hard cock out. You licked your lips as your eyes flicked between his face and that damn beautiful cock. You spread your legs for him and he smirked.

“Beg.”

You groaned, pressing your head back against the pillows. “I already did!”

“I could just go. Leave you soaked and wanting, poor little mouse. You and I both know your toys just won’t make you cum like I can.” The wicked, lopsided grin on his face made you want to punch him. You whined loudly.

“Please fuck me, Shota...” You squirmed your hips a little, giving him your best doe eyes, praying it would make him merciful, “Please...want you to make me cummm…”

He leaned in then, caging you in beneath him as he nipped your earlobe, “Aw, you do know my name, little mouse.” He pushed in then, using your slick to hilt himself entirely inside your warm cunt. You let out a ragged gasp, hands flying up to grip his back, digging your nails in. He groaned, resting his head against your shoulder for a brief moment, “Fuck you’re tight.”

He started moving in earnest then, hips snapping against yours as he drove his cock into your already sensitive hole over and over again. Little cries and curses left your mouth as he fucked you. God this was perfect, he was perfect. It felt like you were made just for him to break. If things had been different, maybe you could have had this every single night. The part of your mind that still clung to solid ground felt the pang of guilt. You pulled him down into a rough kiss, letting him swallow up your noises.

He gripped both your hands, holding them down against the mattress as he pushed up to get a better look at you, gaze ravenous as he took in your bouncing tits, the sweat sheening against your skin. They traveled to where his cock drove into your tight cunt, watching as he abused your soaking wet hole. Through gritted teeth, “Fuck baby you were made to take my cock.”

You whined again, tightening around his thick length at his words. The heat in your core grew worse, a coil threatening to snap if wound too tight, and damn was he doing his best to do just that. You panted out between moans, listening to the groans and growls he let out above you, no thought at all for how loud either of you were being. Fuck the neighbors, they could listen in and wish they were getting fucked this good.

“F-Fuck Sh..Sho gonna...gonna cummm~!” You managed, words clumsy on your tongue. He groaned, low and deep, fucking you harder into the mattress. You nearly screamed then, the pleasure too much to handle for your sensitive body.

“That’s it, little mouse, cum on my dick..” He groaned out, a primal growl in his voice. You moaned loud, reaching up to grapple at his back as he let you out of his grasp to once again cage you beneath him, picking up the pace as his own thrusts became erratic. You dug angry red lines down his back as you came undone around him, that coil snapping inside you as you screamed out your pleasure. The deep groan in your ear as he pumped your abused cunt full of his cum had you tightening around him, milking his cock for all he was worth.

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that. All notion of the passage of time was alien to you, the only thing keeping you grounded his hot skin against your own. The heat was almost suffocating. With it all still that scent of blood that you were certain now was just him. Slowly he pulled his cock from your dripping cunt, chuckling when you gasped in response.

“Doing okay there, little mouse?”

You snorted once you had your bearings, “Quiet.”

“Never.” He placed a kiss to your cheek, far more affectionate than you expected for the situation, before rolling off of you onto his back. He draped an arm across his sweat slicked forehead and looked to you with tired eyes.

“Planning on staying then?” You questioned. You didn’t understand the anxiety that twisted in your gut in the split second it took for him to respond.

“I’ve had a long night.”

“You have.”

“Let’s play pretend then. You let me hold you tonight.”

“And pretend you won’t kill me in the middle of the night?”

“And pretend I’m not the man you murdered.” He responded. There was an ice to the words that had your gut twisting again. You didn’t reply, just slotted your body against his, placing a hand on his chest that felt so cold to you now. You rested your head against his shoulder as he wound his free arm around you, pulling you in close. You waited a few beats, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing. Why it struck you as odd took a few moments. Normally at this angle you’d have heard your partner for the night’s heartbeat hammering against his chest, but Aizawa’s own body was so silent.

“Your heart--”

“Don’t.”

“Right.” You swallowed. He may be walking around and, at least, semi-functioning, but he was still dead. You still did that. “In the morning…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be here.”

“Right.” You fell silent then, a deep guilt and anxiety taking over the post-orgasm glow. You didn’t want him gone in the morning. You wanted to fix what you’d done, you wanted to have him here, to give him a proper apology.

He let out a soft sigh. He expended more energy than he expected and already he could feel himself slipping away. You didn’t need to see it, should be asleep when he finally faded away. It was a few minutes before he spoke again. “Good night, little mouse.” Your soft breathing was his only response in the dark. Good, at least he tired you out properly. He pushed himself up slightly, looking down at your face. There was a troubled look on that sleeping face, one that some odd part of him wanted to soothe away.

These feelings were confusing, too much for him to unpack in the short time he had left. At least they weren’t something he had to unpack, really. Just something he had to “live” moment to moment with. He placed a soft kiss on your temple, carefully untangled himself from you, and started for the door to your room when he paused. He reached down, scooped his shirt up from the floor, and left, draping it across the chair in your living room.

In the morning you wandered bleary eyed from your cold bed to the soft light of the living room. The window was partially opened. You frowned, crossing to it to close it when your bare foot stepped into a soft pile of...something. You looked down, squinting. Ash. Next to the window was a small pile of ash. Your eyes scanned the room then, landing on the black shirt laying across the back of your chair and you knew.

Gone. He was gone. Mission complete, nothing tethering him to the world anymore. You pulled that shirt to your chest, cradling it against your heart. Your heart felt cold, that guilt writhing in you as you swallowed hard. You didn’t deserve what this meant, but you’d take it anyway. Forgiveness.

#shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #eraserhead imagine #gonna make this a nice banner tomorrow but for tonight I must sleep

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Mirrors

Considering Lies premieres tomorrow, I thought it would be best to upload this now.

And here is part 2 of my analysis on Kagami acting as a reflection of both Marinette and Adrien. This time I’ll be discussing how Kagami is a foil to Marinette and vice versa.

Part 1

Marinette & Kagami

It’s undeniable that these two have as many similarities as they do differences. In a way, they are both as alike as peas in a pod, as they are opposites from each other. And no, the irony of this duality is not lost on me.

Just like Kagami needs to be similar to Adrien for him to bond with her, she also needed to be similar to Ladybug, and by extension Marinette, for him to develop an interest in her.

Both of them are strong, confident, capable, and independent girls who will not hesitate to jump into action if the situation calls for it. Both are also kind and loving, and they care greatly for their friends and loved ones. And have many physical similarities as well. Both are of Asian descent, their hair as it’s pictured in the show is very similar, both have pale skin and freckles, the colour red is very present in both their colour palettes (the difference being that red and black are present in Kagami and Ryuuko’s colour palettes, while in Marinette’s case it’s only there as Ladybug)...

Come on, don’t pretend you don’t remember that theory about Adrien thinking Kagami was Ladybug when the trailer for Riposte first came out.

But just as they have many things in common, they are also incredibly different on their approach to certain things. So different, in fact, that one’s weaknesses become the other’s strengths.

Insecurity:

Now, what really tells Marinette and Kagami apart is their confidence as civilians.

If we compare their “introductory” episodes, there is a clear contrast between the two.

For this we’ll be counting Origins as Marinette’s debut. When the episode starts, Marinette’s demeanour is a stark contrast to the optimistic personality we’ve grown used to. From the moment her alarm woke her up to Sabine’s words of encouragement, Marinette was already defeated. Having spent four years in a row as Chloé’s punching bag had really taken its toll on her, and she believed that year would be no different.

Unlike the Marinette we were familiar with up until that point, who, not only confronted Chloé on a regular basis, but was also brave enough to sass her, the moment she made it clear she wanted the seats behind Nino, Marinette just went along with it and took what now are Chloé and Sabrina’s current seats. And she didn’t get any more confident until Alya spoke up and befriended her.

At the same time, in both parts of the episode, it wasn’t until things were dire that Marinette got a grip of herself and accepted that she was Ladybug and it was her duty to protect everyone. And yet, she still needed Chat Noir’s support to finally become the superhero she is today.

Kagami, by contrast, showed a great level of confidence in Riposte. The only time she looked insecure was before getting akumatised, when we got a glimpse of her lonely life and the high expectations that were set on her. But other than that, she arrived at M. Argencourt’s class and immediately asked to face off against his best student.

Kagami was well aware of her worth and talent as a fencer and was not going to settle for anything less than the proper chance to show off her skills.

During her match with Adrien her strikes were fast and precise, her focus, unwavering, and her movements fluid but intense. So when the match came to an end she was anxious to see she had proven herself as the superior fencer, for she spent her whole life honing her skills to prove just that.

Kagami takes great pride in her skills and who she is as a person. So it is to be expected that an exaggeration of that pride would be apparent as Riposte, where they turned into arrogance and a sense of superiority.

Of course, another crucial aspect reflects on the relationship each has with Adrien.

As Kagami herself pointed out in Frozer, Marinette is incredibly insecure when it comes to Adrien. Because her crush usually manifests itself in her getting tongue-tied, bouts of clumsiness, and embarrassing herself in front of him, she is very reluctant to be honest about her feelings for him. Because all that only gives her more reasons to worry and fear she’ll be rejected.

There’s also the fact that they don’t get to spend much time together. Marinette’s anxiety in Backwarder was fuelled by the fact that Kagami would get to spend a lot of time alone with Adrien in a memorable setting. Add to that all the fencing lessons Marinette knows they’ve had together, and the date she had no choice to witness, and it all becomes very painful to her.

In other words, Marinette knows that, logically speaking, Kagami has more chances to get together with Adrien than she does, which only makes it harder for her to admit her own feelings.

By contrast, Kagami knows her worth. She knows she’s talented, she shares lots of things with Adrien, they spend time together, and he even confided his insecurities in her.

To her, being with Adrien just makes sense. Her whole life she’s been told to achieve her goals, no matter the obstacles; and her feelings for Adrien should be no different.

Recklessness:

We’ve already mentioned Kagami is more reckless as Ryuuko than as a civilian when we compared her to Adrien. But it’s worth mentioning that the situation inverts itself when compared to Marinette.

One of Marinette’s biggest flaws is her impulsivity. Being impulsive has led her to some terrible consequences, but while that trait sometimes transfers itself to her role as Ladybug (Bubbler, Volpina), most of the time Marinette’s civilian self is the one rushing into things, as opposed to Ladybug, who’s a master at strategising.

I wholeheartedly believe that’s the writers’ way of “balancing things out.” Adrien, as himself, doesn’t make mistakes often. Furthermore, the few times he’s been the cause of someone’s akumatisation, he was never directly responsible for it. Some other factor played a role: like his fans getting in the way of Gorilla when he was looking for him, the fact that the decision of his match with Kagami fell upon Marinette, who had never before practiced the sport; his father’s need to cover his tracks…

His biggest mistakes he makes as Chat Noir. Why? Because he doesn’t have to be the golden child, so he doesn’t have to be as cautious with his actions. To put it simply, Kagami’s the same.

Meanwhile, Marinette is painfully aware of the heavy burden she carries on her shoulders as Ladybug. Her very first mission went wrong because she made a mistake and didn’t purify the akuma! So she’s learned to be focused and to take her job seriously. Because when she does make a mistake as Ladybug, it hits her hard.

Just compare her usual demeanour to how she acted as Lady Noire! It’s the first time that I can think of that she was genuinely having fun while saving the day! She said so herself: “It’s a lot easier on the shoulders.”

As Marinette, however, that’s usually when she gets to make mistakes. Since her parents aren’t controlling and she’s lived a normal life until the day she helped Master Fu out, her civilian self is usually when she can afford to be herself, make mistakes, and just be a normal girl.

Her secret identity is where her freedom is. At least until she became the new guardian...

I know I haven’t talked a lot about Kagami, but that is because with the parallels between Adrien and Marinette it’s pretty much explained.

Moving on:

As I mentioned when I elaborated on this same aspect with Adrien and Kagami, Marinette has less trouble moving on from him than Kagami.

I know this might seem a bit contradictory with the way she suffered over her unrequited crush on Adrien in the season 3 finale and the New York special, and it’s true. Marinette is hurting immensely over her feelings for Adrien. But she actually has less trouble than Kagami because she has at least tried to move on!

Among the several factors that set Marinette apart from Adrien’s other suitors (beside the fact that she is the girl he’s in love with or that Chloé and Lila are actually antagonists) a crucial one is that Marinette always puts Adrien before herself. And if that means letting him go, so be it.

Every time Adrien himself expresses a desire to be with somebody in front of Marinette she immediately tries to comply with his wishes and help him be with that other person, not once confessing how much that hurts her. She probably doesn’t say anything either because she doesn’t want Adrien to worry about her when he should be focusing on that other girl.

Deep down, both Marinette and Kagami try to do what’s best for Adrien.

But while Marinette thinks the best she can do is step aside and let him go (not knowing the best she could do is be honest with her feelings for him because that’s the only thing that’s keeping Adrien from realising his own feelings for her), Kagami believes she is what’s best for Adrien.

And because she believes they are meant to be, she keeps pushing and pursuing him even when it’s obvious they’re not on the same page. Adrien is comfortable around her on a platonic level, but the moment they try to go for the romantic route, he hesitates. Because deep down he knows he doesn’t care about Kagami the same way she cares about him, but he keeps trying to move on from Ladybug instead of being honest with himself and Kagami.

Just like Kagami prefers to wait until he feels the same way about her before acknowledging that might never happen and letting him go.

Which could play an important role in Lies...

That is the difference between Marinette and Kagami. While Marinette pulls herself away from Adrien, Kagami pushes forward.

Connection with Adrien:

This is where Kagami truly has the advantage over Marinette. She gets to share many more things with Adrien than her.

Besides their very similar backgrounds, their own parents’ partnership allows for many instances where it can be just the two of them. Adrien is the only friend Tomoe fully approves of, while Gabriel only really encourages his son’s friendship with Kagami over his other friends because that will strengthen whatever deal he’s got going on with Tomoe.

And so, Adrien and Kagami are together in fencing, they go to London together, they spend their time together at the premiere of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s movie, they get to sneak out together and have fun!

Marinette, on the other hand… she doesn’t get to do any of that with Adrien.

She only ever spends some time alone with him either because it’s an extracurricular activity (the gaming tournament, their fencing session in Riposte) or because they happen to stumble upon each other (Gorizilla).

It was precisely that that got Marinette so down in Glaciator. Seeing how she was the only one that was alone when they were all supposed to do one of Paris’ most romantic activities together reminded her of just how far away from her Adrien actually is. And it’s precisely his unavailability that leads her to find some solace in Luka, who unlike Adrien is always there for her, because he can be there for her!

The amount of time they spend together has brought Kagami and Adrien close, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Marinette.

Having said that, things are much more different when we analyse the way Adrien acts around the two…

Adrien’s relationship with them:

Despite Adrien’s similarities to Kagami and the many chances he has to be with her, it’s actually Marinette who’s higher up in his priority list and whom he’s more comfortable with.

Adrien cares for Kagami and is clearly doing his best to try to have a good relationship with her, but for better or worse it’s Marinette who always comes first.

The best example of this would be Frozer.

Adrien was trying his hardest to have a good date with Kagami and give her his full attention, and yet, the moment he saw Marinette fall or get out of the ice rink looking dejected, he immediately went to check on her. He ditched his date twice for Marinette’s sake.

Not only that, but there’s also his reaction to any of them getting hurt because of Lila. It was Lila hurting Marinette that pushed him over the edge enough to threaten to cut ties with her unless she undid what she’d done and get Marinette to come back to school.

Adrien was absolutely furious at Lila for hurting Marinette.

Look how devastated he is on her behalf!

You might say it had to do with Adrien having warned her already in Oni-Chan. Which, true, was partly for Kagami’s sake since Lila’s lies had harmed her to the point of akumatisation. But there is a difference:

Even when Oni-Chan went to Adrien, he still believed Lila only wanted attention. It wasn’t until Ladybug almost got killed that he realised just how ruthless and monstrous Lila truly is. Not only that, but Adrien never mentioned Kagami being akumatised as a reason to keep his distance from Lila, he only said she had gotten Nathalie and Gorilla in trouble.

As true as that is, it’s not like Adrien couldn’t have brought Oni-Chan up. Sure, the true reason for him losing hope in Lila changing for the better was her trying to get rid of Ladybug even when they were trying to save her; it makes sense he wouldn’t bring that up. But Kagami? We’re talking about Miraculous Ladybug’s Paris. Where people get turned into superpowered villains every single day! It’s not like it wouldn’t have made sense if he’d said “Because of you, Kagami got akumatised.” And yet, despite trying to comfort Kagami after the whole ordeal, her akumatisation actually had very little to do with Adrien’s warning to Lila.

But when she went after Marinette… Oh, boy! Did the tables turn!

Ladybug didn’t even have to be involved for Adrien to go “I’m about to ruin this girl’s whole career” on Lila! Adrien was ballistic because it was Marinette Lila was messing with, and he wasn’t having any of it.

That says a lot about who Adrien is closer to.

As I mentioned above, his bond with Kagami allows him to rebel against his father and his expectations on him a little, something he doesn’t do as freely with Marinette. Because if the two are together while Adrien runs away from Gabriel is usually a coincidence; with Kagami it’s all on purpose.

And yet, Marinette is the one Adrien feels more comfortable with.

Aside from Ladybug (oh, sweet irony), Marinette is the character Adrien has opened up to the most. In Gamer he showed her a glimpse of his most insecure side, in Glaciator (as Chat Noir, sure, but it still counts) he confessed his feelings for Ladybug to her, in Gorizilla he talked about his mother to her, in Frozer he asked her for help regarding Kagami, and in the New York special it was her who he thought could work a miracle and get him to stay.

And don’t get me started on Adrien’s love language.

As of The Puppeteer 2 and Oblivio it’s been established that while Marinette shows her love through actions (usually handmade gifts), Adrien shows his by being open about what he feels. But he doesn’t just talk about how he feels, he touches people to show just that.

If Adrien’s close to you, he’ll show physical affection.

And we all know who he’s more touchy-feely than any other character in the show.

Adrien is constantly looking for Marinette’s touch, while Kagami is usually the one to initiate physical contact.

Adrien might be able to do things with Kagami he can’t do with anybody else, but Marinette is the one he’s closest to.

Zodiac signs:

I already did an analysis on this back in the day, but I think what I discovered from it it’s important to point out since it’ll help understand and summarise the way Marinette and Kagami’s characters reflect each other’s better.

In the French dub of Ikari Gozen, instead of the Chinese Zodiac, they talked about their Western horoscope. Marinette said she was Leo and Kagami was Scorpio. Those signs are opposites. Leo is a fire sign while Scorpio is a water sign. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t compatible at all…

(Although, considering Leo is self-reliant, confident, has bravado, and is honest, while Scorpio relies more on strategies and wits, I’d say they got their signs mixed up a little).

Their compatibility per se is low, but there is a great attraction between the two, albeit hindered by their usual clashing. This is shown through the many things the two have in common, but since they used to assess the other without truly getting to know her and their own feelings for Adrien, there was a lot of friction between Kagami and Marinette.

Both signs are jealous. However, while Leo is jealous due to pride, Scorpio’s jealousy comes from a desire to control. Both Kagami and Marinette have displayed jealousy issues. In Marinette’s case, it could be argued she felt jealous towards Chloé, Lila, and Kagami because she didn’t think they were actually good enough for Adrien or better than her. I mean, Chloé is an egotistical, sell-centred bully and as of Miracle Queen, a traitor. Lila is an unrepentant liar, a manipulator, and an enemy to Paris (even if only Ladybug and Chat Noir are aware of it, to some extent). And before she got to know Kagami, Marinette thought she was cold and rude (her brutally honest responses can be seen as this).

Based on that, there’s no way any of them are better for Adrien than she is!

On the contrary, once she got to know Kagami her jealousy comes from the fact that, perhaps, Kagami is more suitable to be his girlfriend than she is.

Kagami, on the other hand, could have displayed jealous behaviour over Adrien because, as her only friend, she felt threatened by him having a life and friends outside of her, who (until Ikari Gozen) only has her family, her responsibilities, and him.

Basically, these two being Leo and Scorpio explains their relationship pretty well. They have enough things in common and enough differences to attract each other and have a good friendship, but at the same time that can also stirr issues between the two.

Final thoughts:

Despite Adrien and Kagami’s similarities, they still have many issues to solve before they can truly be sure if they want to be in a relationship or remain friends. Kagami is sure of what she wants, but that sometimes can clash with Adrien’s own feelings, making their relationship go through a rocky path. Adrien is making an effort to move on and be a good boyfriend to Kagami, but they are not in the same place in the relationship; Kagami is ready for more, while Adrien still has problems of his own to move on from.

This might come to a head in Lies. Truth came as a bit of a surprise to us because we actually expected Lukanette would break up because of Marinette’s feelings for Adrien, but that actually had very little to do with anything! Lukanette ended up breaking up because Marinette is very literally carrying the weight of the world over her shoulders. Her responsibilities as Ladybug are overlapping with, and eventually destroying, her civilian life. Lukanette broke up because of external reasons!

But if Adrigami were to break up in Lies, that would be, or at least should be, for internal reasons. Since Chat Noir wasn’t chosen as guardian of the miraculous, his responsibilities as a hero don’t tie him down nearly as much as they do Marinette (in the previous analysis we already discussed how they actually give him freedom), so it wouldn’t make sense if Kagami and him broke up because of it.

It could have something to do with it, but I can actually picture Kagami pointing out Adrien is not as invested in the relationship as she is better. Maybe she could even point out his feelings for Marinette, which she had suspected of since Riposte. But having Adrien realise that in the second episode would be a tad soon, so I’m not getting my hopes up.

The thing is, if Adrigami breaks up tomorrow, it would make sense if it actually were because of Adrien being more in love with Ladybug (Marinette) than with Kagami. Because the narrative has actually been pointing at something like that happening.

As for Marinette and Kagami, I just hope they remain good friends even after Adrigami breaks up. Because the two would be able to understand each other’s feelings better. As much as the girls want to help Marinette out, none of them really know how being in love with Adrien is really like. They don’t know what it is like to get their hopes up, thinking they’ll get to be alone with him, only for him to cancel or make some change in the plans. Kagami and Marinette do.

More importantly, the way each feels regarding where they stand in their relationship with him foils the other’s and ultimately all depends on Adrien.

Marinette sabotages herself by not being honest with her feelings and hesitating, but it’s Adrien who seeks to get closer to her. Kagami is sure of herself and her feelings, but it’s Adrien’s hesitation that hinders the development of their relationship.

Because those two misjudged Adrien and warmed up to him when he showed himself as an honest, caring boy. Kagami and Marinette fell in love with Adrien for his honesty and his good heart, when he literally tended a peace offering to them. And it’s precisely like that how they came to be friends.

And it would be a pity if they lost each other because of a boy.

@miraculouslycool & @flightfoot

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Sore

I don’t love what this idea turned into, because it was supposed to be lighthearted, but it really spiraled. I will say, I like the ending.

Summary: Reader breaks down after a tough case. Spencer is there to help.

Warnings: mentions on child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, unhealthy coping mechanisms, therapy

Word Count: 2930

She didn’t mean to overdo it, but sometimes it’s inevitable. It’s her only escape.

The team just finished up a domestic violence cult case in Laramie, Wyoming. It took six days for them to even realize the cult aspect, having been trying to connect the victims to one offender. The case was draining for everyone, but especially for her.

Everyone in the BAU has some kind of past trauma. Nobody randomly decides to do this kind of work for a living without some significant inspiration. Over her time in the BAU, Y/N has come to learn about these traumas and how they’ve shaped the people around her. She has yet to share hers though. Not because she doesn’t trust them, but rather because she only ever talks about it to her therapist. She’s made significant progress in coping with her trauma, but she hasn’t worked through it enough to bring it up herself.

Of course, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work so she found a way to relieve the stress. Exercise. It’s never been a problem before now. She’s never overdone it before. If a case has her thinking about it, or she’s having a particularly bad day, she’ll do a HIIT or fully body workout until she’s tired enough that her brain shuts off.

Her therapist is working with her to limit the bad days. Honestly, since joining the BAU her bad days have been rather infrequent. There’s just too much else to worry about for her to think about her own problems.

But this case hit too close to home. Every new victim and every new piece of evidence reminded Y/N of what it was like growing up with abusive parents. She went into foster care at 15. Three years later, she went to college and did everything in her power to forget it.

But history has a way of repeating itself. Her college boyfriend hurt her. It started small. He grew controlling, accused her of cheating, and then tried to beat the “truth” out of her. She finally left him, only to wind up with another guy who wouldn’t take no as an answer. So she stopped dating. She threw herself into her work, trying to rid the world of men like those of her past. That’s what lead her to the BAU.

The group of profilers on the jet could all tell something was off, but Y/N isn’t one to be pushed into opening up. They know she’ll come to them when she’s ready to talk about it. Whatever “it” is. So, rather than poking and prodding, each member shows they are there for her in their own way.

Derek and Emily each give her a hug before departing, something reserved for after especially difficult cases. Rossi squeezes her shoulder, much how she would imagine a loving parent to. JJ offers a kind smile, the one that always brings you joy, and reassuring eyes before heading out for the day. Hotch gives her less paperwork than everyone else. Penelope sends her extra videos of cute animals to lift her spirits. And Spencer stays by her side for the entire flight. Normally, Spencer would sprawl out on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he always lacks. Instead, he sits beside Y/N and offers her the blanket he typically uses, calming her nerves with the gentle swishing of pages being turned in his book of the hour.

With everything on her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She should call her therapist, but they aren’t landing until 9:30 pm and she knows Dr. Robbins has a family of her own. So, she treats it like she used to treat a bad day. She finds a workout to do, and puts every last ounce of energy into the different exercises.

Only, it doesn’t work like it used to. After completing the nearly hour long workout, her mind is still whirring with the pictures from the evidence board. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face, and hears his drunken yelling. Her mother in the background, unbothered because she only had Y/N so he would have a new punching bag.

So, she finds another workout. And then another. And then another. After three more hours, she’s finally exhausted her brain into tuning out the memories long enough for her to sleep.

She sleeps for most of Saturday, waking only long enough to shower and eat dinner. Sunday morning, the memories are back. So, she’s back to working out.

She knows in her head that it isn’t healthy, but the logical part of her brain isn’t exactly functioning at its highest level. All she’s focused on is making the pain go away. If turning the emotional pain into physical pain is what it takes, then so be it. She’d rather have the aching muscles.

All of that, lead her to now. It’s Monday morning and she can barely walk like a normal person. Every step requires more energy than the last. Hell, she can’t even sit down without falling into the chair.

The elevator doors spring open, revealing the glass doors that lead to the BAU bullpen. She walks in as best she can, tossing her bag on her desk with a dull thud. Of course, she’s later than normal and so Spencer and Morgan are sitting at their desks, watching as she throws herself into her chair.

“Hi Y/N…” Spencer trails off when he sees the bags under her eyes and notices her stiff posture. “Um, are you alright?” Spencer’s puppy like concern warms her heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just did a little too much at the gym this weekend is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.” She tries to hide the underlying emotional stress behind why she did too much. Morgan can tell she’s hiding something though, even if he is way off base about what it is.

“Yeah, the gym.” Morgan snorts his response, cutting Spencer off before he could start rambling about how to combat the negative effects of too much exercise and simultaneously drawing the attention of Emily and JJ who were reentering the bullpen after getting coffee.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ questions before Y/N can defend herself.

“Little mama over here is sore from too much time at ‘the gym’.” It’s clear to her, and nearly everyone else in the room, that Morgan thinks she is sore from being absolutely railed. Suddenly all eyes are on her. It’s just too much for her to take. The combination of mental and physical exhaustion crossed with not wanting to talk about it causes her to break.

She’s not sure what thought process her brain is following when she replies. Actually, she’s pretty confident her brain isn’t functioning at all when she starts speaking. Her words are painfully quiet, lacking the typical edge one would expect from someone so mentally and physically exhausted. She sounds broken. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was in the gym for four hours Friday night and seven more yesterday, so excuse me if I’m a little bit stiff. It’s hard to work in time to stretch afterward when you’ve finally exhausted yourself enough to sleep without having to worry about remembering-.” With tears in her eyes, she cuts herself off, pushes herself from her chair, and starts the walk toward Hotch’s office, stopping to whisper her gratitude to Reid. “Spence, thank you for checking in on me.”

Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid share confused glances as she opens and closes the door to Hotch’s office without even knocking.

“Hotch, I think I need to go home. I- I need to talk to someone and I can’t do that if I’m here.” She manages to mutter out the words without fully breaking down, but Hotch can still clearly see something is wrong.

“If that’s what you need to do, please go ahead. I just want you to know that we’re here for you too. You’ve been part of this team for a little over two years now. None of us want you to feel like you have to keep it all to yourself. Unfortunately nightmares come with the job, but I want you to know we all-” He stops talking as the tears begin to stream down her face. Rising from his seat, he walks around his desk to offer her support.

Without even sparing it a second thought, Y/N collapses into his arms. She’s too exhausted to hide her emotions anymore. It’s all become too much.

“I just can’t keep it in anymore. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of me from all of you, and I just don’t want to anymore.” It’s not exactly how she pictured letting it all out, but it makes sense. She’s hit a wall and there’s no way forwards but through.

“Shh, it’s okay. What do you need?” Hotch is protective over his entire team, but something about Y/N makes him feel like an older brother. Like it’s his job to protect her from anything and everything he can.

“I just want to go home. I need a break from remembering it all.” Hotch nods in understanding, reaching for his coat.

“I’ll take you now.”

“Actually, can Spencer take me? I want to tell him first. And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry? It wasn’t fair to say that. He didn’t know.” Hotch guides her out of his office, promising that Morgan wouldn’t hold it against her.

“Reid, take L/N home.” Spencer nods in understanding, already reaching for Y/N’s keys since he takes the metro.

It feels like hours have gone by, but it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes before Spencer was sitting next to her on her couch in her apartment. They didn’t talk at all on the drive. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but at a much less alarming rate.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.” Spencer has never felt less equipped to handle a situation. His years of learning everything there is to know haven’t prepared him for seeing the one person he cares about more than anyone else in the world so broken.

“No. I- I want to tell you. But I need you to do me a favor afterward.” She sniffles, slowly looking into his eyes.

“I’ll do anything you need me to.” His words are so sincere, it almost brings about another round of sobs.

“After I tell you, I need you to tell everyone else. I just know I won’t be able to force myself to relive it more than once, so if I tell you, then you can tell everyone else because-”

“I’ll remember exactly what you say.” He nods to himself, thinking she picked him for his memory rather than because of any potential feelings.

“Well, yeah. But, also I wanted you to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of you hearing it from anyone else. I wanted to look into your eyes when I say it all for the first time without being with my therapist because I know you will still look at me the same way afterward. You won’t treat me any different because you know what it’s like to feel like the baby of the group and as much as everyone else cares, with you it’s different. I just know you’ll understand what I need in a way nobody else will because you’ve always been able to read me, even when I tried to hide it.” She manages a weak smile in his direction, taking a deep breath to prevent anymore ramblings.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I- thank you for trusting me enough to be here for you.” For the first time since meeting Y/N, Spencer feels like she might feel the same way about him that he feels about her. Of course, now isn’t the time to act on it, but it still fills him with a confidence he would have otherwise been lacking.

Before she starts talking again, Y/N reaches for Spencer’s hand. An action he would quickly come to understand is a big deal for her.

“As far back as I can remember, I never had anyone who cared about me. My dad, he would hit my mom. When she got pregnant, she saw it as a way out. He stopped hitting her because she told him once I was born, he would have his own personal punching bag, but I had to actually be born for that to happen. I don’t really know when he started hitting me. If I was an infant or a toddler or whatever. But it’s all I can remember of them.” Spencer begins rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb when he hears her breathing speed up.

“It was like that until I managed to tell one of my teachers there was something wrong. I was fifteen when I was placed in foster care. I switched between homes until I went to college on scholarship.” Spencer does his best to provide comfort to you, but he can tell there’s more to the story.

“Freshmen year of college a met a guy. We started dating, and I thought I found someone who cared, ya know? But, he started to get angry at the smallest things. He would lash out, break things. One day he started hitting me, forcing me to do things.” She takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was more prepared this time though. I had a therapist I could call. She helped me work up the courage to leave him. But then right after graduating I met another guy and it all turned out the same.” Silent tears pour down her face as she continues.

“I felt trapped. Like there was no way for me to escape the cycle. No matter what I did differently I kept meeting people who hurt me to deal with their own pain. I gave it all up, figured I’d never find people who would care about me. I focused on work, made it to the BAU. On bad days, I would work out until I was so tired I couldn’t remember my own name let alone the things they had done to me. Then when I met all of you, it felt too good to be true. There was this whole team of people who suddenly cared about me. It was hard at first, to accept that it was real. But you have to know I never thought any of you would hurt me, it was just in my head that I would never have this kind of familial bond with anyone.

This last case, I don’t know what it was about it, but I couldn’t stop seeing the evidence boards. The faces of women who were passed around from man to man as objects to abuse. So, I fell back into my old habit. Only, it didn’t work like it used to so I just kept going and going until I could escape.” The tears slowed as she managed to get everything off her chest. All that could be heard in the room was her ragged breaths.

“Y/N, I… I can’t imagine how difficult that was to share.” Spencer shifted closer to her, but not too close in case she didn’t want the touch.

“I’ve always felt like the team- like you would understand. I’ve been working on it in therapy actually. Figuring out a way to tell you all, but I guess I hit the proverbial wall first...” She’s shaking her head as she looks at the floor.

“Hey, none of that. I know self-deprecation when I see it, and I will not tolerate it from you.” His words carry a gentle conviction. “You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you take down unsubs three times your size with pure physical strength. I’ve also seen you talk an unsub down, saving countless lives without laying a hand on them. Never doubt that you are strong enough for this job, because you are one of the strongest people I know.”

Spencer’s words bring tears to her eyes, but the happy kind this time. She throws her arms around him, snuggling as close as she can. Spencer, at first surprised by the contact, freezes. He quickly melts into her embrace, rubbing circles into her back until she falls asleep.

Spencer manages to fill the team in via text, explaining enough that everyone understands what happened without having to go into too much detail. He helps her move to her bedroom, trying to prevent any more soreness. When she asks him to stay, he lays down by her side.

The next morning she wakes up cuddled next to Spencer with several texts from her BAU family. Rossi invited everyone to his house for dinner, an offer she greatly appreciates.

That night, the team shows her what it feels like to have a family over pasta and wine, a classic combination. In the future, they’ll continue to show her what family really is.

Spencer will show her what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship. He’ll show her how it feels to be loved without living in constant fear. She’ll show him what it means to be loved for who you are.

They’ll show each other what it means to be happy.

tag list:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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silma-words · 3 years

Note

Hey if you’re still accepting prompts then can you do #2 and #19 from prompt list 1

N/A: Thank you so much for the prompts Anon, and sorry for the delay! I hope you will like this, and that you are ready for some angst! :)

~~~~~

Choices: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: PG / Warning: None

Genre: Angst

AU Chronology: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – ‘Inevitable - Arc II: About time’ (Masterlist) - Sequel to "The right thing to do" and “Seventy-two”.

Summary: She was ready to leave everything behind, but Adrian shows up at her door step.

Inspired by prompts #2 and #19 from Prompt List #1: 2: “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry”; 19: “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Words: 2900

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

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

Picking up the pieces

What the hell was he doing here? Why now? Why did it take him that long to do what she had been hoping he would for over two months? What was he expecting of her? Drop all of her plans and crawl back to him after he had shattered her heart?

Unable to control the flow of questions that were rushing through her head, Ellie was shaking. Her back still against the door that she had quickly shut in Adrian’s face after finding him crouching on her doorstep, she could not stop the flow of tears either.

It had been so hard for her to wrap her mind around Adrian’s unilateral decision to end whatever was blooming between them and find a way to pull herself together, she now felt dragged back to that night in his apartment where he had delivered the blow. Just like that night, she felt her body being twisted and pulled apart in every direction from the inside, confusion mingling with anger, hurt, heartbreak, and love.

Why did he have to come back here and plunge another knife into the wound had barely started to heal? Wasn’t she doing what he wanted? He wanted her to chase her dreams and get out in the world without him tying her back, and that was what she was forcing herself to do. That’s why she had decided to take a leap and try her luck away from America, on neutral ground. Why would he change his mind now that she was about to leave? Had he always expected her to remain in his midst, close enough so she would never forget him? Close enough for him to reach her if he ever changed his mind? Or had he been waiting for her to come back to him all along?

*Ellie… please… Please come home… I miss you*

The sound of Adrian’s voice from the other side of the door tore through her. It brushed aside the million questions that had been invading her head as it reminded her how defeated he had looked at her feet in the corridor just a few minutes before. It was such a clear contrast with the resignation that she had read in his eyes the night he had delivered the blow.

She had believed him when he had claimed that this decision had been difficult for him as much as for her, but somehow part of her had tried to convince herself that he did not want her as much as she wanted him. That he had known that she was in it deeper than he was, and had been kind enough to end it before she relied on him too much. He had never hinted as much, but to her, it made more sense and hurt a little less than to believe that he had been really willing to sacrifice what they had just to give her a chance at a normal, mortal life. He had claimed he wanted her safe. But safe from the dangers of supernatural beings, or safe from the heartbreak that he would inevitably cause her?

Now that he was here, begging for her to come back to him, she was even more lost than when he had left her with no hope to convince him to let her stay. Her entire body physically ached at the thought of Adrian waiting desperately for her to answer his plea. But the idea of facing him filled her with dread.

Would she be strong enough to push him away? Did she want to? Would she even be able to reason properly and decide what to do with him standing before her?

She could feel his presence behind her despite the wooden door separating them. It was heavy. It was familiar. It was tearing a hole through her chest at the thought that he might turn around and leave before she could hear what he had to say. She could not ignore him a minute longer.

Drawing a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, straightened herself and fumbled with the lock with trembling hands, bracing herself as she slowly opened the door. The guilt and yearning that she found in his eyes the second their eyes met drew her breath away, as if she had taken a punch straight to her guts. As much as she had wanted him to hurt as much as she did, it was a sight that made it all even worse. God, she cared way too much for that man.

“Adrian, I…” she started feebly, not sure what she really wanted to say. “I don’t understand what you want from me… I did as you asked…”

His silence was terrifying. He did not seem able to move away from the door frame, staring at her in shock as if his earlier plea behind the door had stunned him as much as it had her. Or was he surprised that she had accepted to face him, one last time?

“Adrian, please…. You have to explain, I… I… what the hell do you want?”. She had aimed her last words to be sharp and assertive, but they only came out as a desperate whisper. That seemed enough to shake him from his trance.

Closing the space between them, he wrapped his arms around her without a word, cradling her against his chest so tightly that she thought he might crush her. He let out a heavy sigh, burying his nose in her hair and swaying them both gently from side to side, as if trying to shake a nightmare away. A nightmare that they had both shared and were desperately trying to wake up from.

Ellie wanted nothing more than to let him sooth that ache away and forget all about the past two months. She would have never thought that the feel of his body against hers and the scent of him surrounding her could have so much power, stronger than any balm, any medicine, or any drug that had ever been designed to relieve unbearable pain. She felt like she could just fall asleep right there, lulled by the vibrations of his heartbeat and by the way his chest was heaving against her ear with every dragged breath that he took.

“I am so sorry, Ellie…” he finally spoke, a soft whisper blowing through her hair.

*I am sorry*. Words that she had been craving to hear from his lips but that now sounded like a joke to her ears. No matter how good it felt to be in his arms again, she could not forget the pain and anger that had been eating her up for weeks because of him. She could not let him win her over like this so easily. She would never forgive herself if she did.

Pressing her palms flat on his chest, she gently pushed against him to force him to take a few steps back and let her look at him in the eyes.

“What are you sorry about, exactly?” she asked, her voice sturdier now that she felt confident enough to confront him. “Sorry that you pushed me away? Sorry that you hurt me? Or sorry that I am leaving because of you?”.

She could see the hurt flashing through his eyes at her words, although guilt was still masking his beautiful features painfully.

“I am sorry for all of it, Ellie.”. There was no hesitation in his voice. No lie and no false chivalry. She could tell that he was offering her the whole truth. “And I am sorry that I never left you a choice in this, that I assumed that I would know better what would be good for you… I was so wrong… so wrong…”.

He tried to reach for her, but she took a step back, wincing, and shaking her head slightly.

“What makes you think now that you were wrong? Has anything changed between now and the night you told me I needed to move out from your life? Am I any less mortal? Are you any less of a vampire? Is your life any less dangerous now?”.

Adrian looked like she had slapped him. Turning against him the arguments he had used to make her leave was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew she had to. His words were engraved in her mind forever, and she was convinced that not even Scholar Jameson would be able to erase that from her memories. The words had burned so slowly and so bright through her skull throughout the past two months that they had become a truth that she had forced herself to accept.

“No, you’re right” Adrian conceded. “These things have not changed. There is still so much that I wish a life with me could not deprive you of, but… what changed is that I thought I could be strong for the both of us by letting you go, but… I was fooling myself… I cannot stand the idea of you moving away while I never really gave you a choice in this….”

“So…” she started tentatively, raising an eyebrow betraying her confusion. “This is about giving me back my right to choose? I could either go and start a new life somewhere else, or stay here and get back to you?”

Adrian nodded silently, letting the idea sink in her head.

Not having to make a choice had somehow made things easier for her before. She could not have done anything else but to move on. But now that he was here and offering her a way back to him, she was clueless about what to do. She felt raw, exposed, vulnerable. His piercing blue eyes seemed to be digging through her soul, trying to read her mind and to find the emotions she had been desperate to hide.

“What do you want Ellie?” he asked softly, raising a tentative hand towards hers to reach her cheek. “This is what I should have asked you from the start, and I am sorry I didn’t. So I am asking you now: what do you want to do, Ellie? What does your heart tell you to do?”

She closed her eyes, letting her cheek lean into his touch, forcing her breath to calm down to find the strength to finally pull out of her these words that she had wanted to say for so long. “Adrian, I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

She felt her body weaken at her admittance, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before now that her heart was on display before him, bare and beating erratically in despair.

As if knowing this, Adrian instantly wrapped his other arm around her waist to pull her back against him, preventing her from seeing the reaction on his face, but allowing her to feel him tremble against her, and to hear his heartbeat mirror the irregular pattern of hers.

But she could not stand the silence. Nor could she stop the flow of thoughts and doubts that now seemed to want to pour out of her soul now that her love for him was all out in the open.

“Maybe you were right, Adrian.” She whimpered against his collarbone, repressing the urge to cry at the realisation that Adrian’s doubts and worries had now taken siege in her mind like weeds with ever-growing roots. “Maybe us was all too much, all too soon…. I don’t…. I think it would just consume me if I stayed and then you changed your mind and pushed me away again….”.

She felt Adrian jerk against her, his hold on her tightening dangerously as she heard him swallow painfully. “I won’t… I promise…”. His voice was rough, nearly strangled, betraying the emotions that were clearly overtaking him.

“How do you expect me to believe that?” she insisted, blocking her tears by burying her eyes into his shirt as deep as she could. “The situation is the same… nothing has changed… you think that now because you think irrationally but… we both know your doubts will never truly go away…”.

For a moment she thought he had stopped breathing, his hand in her neck tightening to the brink of pain, and his face sinking at the top of head as if he was trying to smother his breath in her hair. When he finally relaxed and released his hold to bring trembling hands around her head, there was nowhere left for him to hide his tears as he leaned to rest his forehead against hers.

“I will never push you away again… I promise… I don’t think I could even if I wanted to…” he breathed against her lips, his tears now falling freely from his lashes to her cheeks, a vivid testimony of the truth behind his words.

Bringing her hands to frame his face, she gently stroked her thumbs against his wet skin, before tentatively pushing forward to get closer to his lips, close enough to feel their shaking breaths mingle and their damp eyelashes brush each other’s skin.

“Please don’t cry”, she murmured with a feeble smile. “I can’t stand to see you cry”.

When their mouths finally met, it was the most gentle and careful caress that she had ever experienced. It was like discovering the softness of his skin for the very first time, and the way he moved against her felt like he was exploring every inch of her lips one at a time, as if trying to draw a map so that he could never forget his way back to them.

Their kisses were short, a little weak and breathless, the salt of their tears gradually invading their mouths as they could not refrain from caressing each other’s skin, smearing the wet trails of their tears with their fingertips.

This felt so familiar and yet so foreign, the intensity of what she felt threatening to make her crumble at his feet if he ever released his hold on her. Would she ever be able to reason and think straight when she was in his arms? In this moment, she did not care. All she wanted was to relish every breath, every shiver, and every tremor coursing through him, pressing her body as close to him as she could to let him feel how much her love for him was possessing her.

“Ellie...” he whispered against her lips between two kisses, his gaze betraying the exhaustion he felt from everything that just happened, but filled with a softness that seemed to wrap her like the softest fabric that could ever be made. “You have no idea how much I love you and how much I missed you...”.

If she had dared to doubt his words, his next kiss would have proved her otherwise, as she felt his entire being shake with relief and the tension instantly leave his bones, as if these unspoken words had been a burden that he would not have been able to carry any further. His warm lips had captured hers avidly, hungrily, gentle but yet urging and demanding, roaming and pressing against hers as he was relinquishing the last remaining bit of restraint that had been holding him back.

Ellie was gasping for breath but she did not care. She was blinded by the raw emotions that were washing over her in the darkness of the room. Mere minutes before, it had been like she was being slowly dragged underwater, weakened and bared by her admission that she loved him. Now, it felt like she had finally been yanked out of the terrifying depths by the strength of a few words, Adrian’s confession filling her lungs like the air she had been gasping for.

“I missed you so much”, he kept repeating between kisses, unable to stay still or silent anymore, and probably eager to make sure she believed his promises to never push her away again. “I missed you so much, please... come home with me”.

Staring into his eyes as she was finally able to steady herself and catch her breath, she could not repress the smile that was starting to form on her lips at the sight his beautiful dishevelled face, love, warmth and tenderness finally finding their place back in her chest after weeks of being forbidden to take a seat too close to her heart.

She was not entirely sure yet what she was going to do with her choice, but she surely could not ignore what she felt for Adrian anymore. Tonight, they had laid the shattered pieces of their hearts at their feet, and picked up the largest pieces, hand in hand, willing to start putting them back together one at a time. Whether they could mend their hearts together, side by side, or whether they would have to do this alone, was something that only time would tell. But for now....

“I am home”, she simply answered his request, her voice soft and calmer now, her eyes darting across his face to take in all of the tiny perfections and imperfections she had missed so much. “Stay with me, please, Adrian... Stay with me tonight”.

~~~~~

N/A: Thank you again Anon for the prompt, and thank you for anyone who read it all the way! This segment is far from over, so more should come soon, hopefully!

If you liked it, any comments and/or reblogs would be deeply appreciated! J

~~~~~

Tagging @adriansbiss , @itsjustwinter , @shanzay44 , @purvishraick, @thefrenchiemama

@choicesficwriterscreations

#bloodbound #bloodbound choices #adrian raines #adrian raines x mc #bloodbound fanfiction #cfwc #choices fanfiction #play choices #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #asked and answered #writing prompt

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Text

Always But Not Forever

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My TagList

Summary : During the interrogation of a mole, Tom learns something

A/n : I want to write something for the holidays but i dont do fluff (unless its requested) so here’s a angsty mob!au instead

Warnings : Torchere, blood, violence, cursing, illusion do death, fluff if you squint (dont worry it doesnt last long), mention of injuries, mention of manipulation, implied death?

Word Count : 1.7k

...

“You know, I almost admire the audacity you must’ve had to pull off something like this,” Tom chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up, “To betray us, to betray me,”

The pads of his fingers passed over the array of equipment laid out on the table in front of him, teasing the handles of guns, knives and other various torchere devices. Usually, he would just grab his trusty blade from the holder on his belt, slicing the person's throat to watch them bleed out on the chair, coughing and pleading for their life.

But this was a special occasion, one he wanted to drag on for as long as possible. He wanted to hear her screams fill the room, echoing its way around the warehouse. He wanted the floor to be soaked in her blood, dripping from her skin. He wanted to watch her life drain from her eyes slowly and painfully.

But first, he needed to get answers.

“So,” he said slowly, “Are you going to tell me why? Or do I have to force out out of you,”

The woman only chuckled, her eyes hooded as she stared him straight in the eye, “I think we both know the answer to that Tommy,”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, striding up and grabbing her throat with enough force to lean the chair back, not caring if it were to fall and break on the hard, concrete floor.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” she fake pouted, “I thought you loved the name? Or is it only reserved for your whore of a wife,”

“You really want to die don’t you,” Tom chuckled darkly, bending down to look her directly in the eyes, face inches apart, “You’re on thin fucking ice,”

“And I want to shatter it,” she sneered, leaning her own face forward as much as she could with the restraints tied around her, “Just like I did your best pals heart,”

Tom felt his chest tighten at the mention of Harrison. He would never blame the blond for what happened, because despite the guilt he held, he knew that it wasn't his fault. He blamed himself for getting his friend in the hospital on his deathbed. Well maybe not that drastic, Harrison was a hard fucker to get rid of, he knew that no matter what he would hang on but it felt like he had already lost him.

He couldn't get the images out of his head, the flashes of red, screams pounding in his ear. But the sight of her standing above his best friend, gun in hand, ready to fire. The thought alone made his go feral.

And he hated that, he hated that she knew how to get under his skin so easily. After getting so close, to not just him but his close family, his friends, to you. He could already picture the hurt that would spread across your face when he would tell you. You both valued close bonds with people, building that relationship to something reliable, something worth trusting.

So when that trust was broken, all hell broke loose.

“I’m sure you’ll do just a fine job at that,” he muttered, standing back straight up, “And the moment you do I’ll put a bullet between your eyes,”

“Oh we both know you couldn't do that Tommy,” she smirked, “Not when I have so much valuable information that you so desperately need,”

Tom chuckled, picking up a syringe filled with a light blue liquid. His fingers flicked the cover before taking it fully off, revealing the needle to the open air, “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he turned back around to face her, his face void of emotion, “Gag her,”

Him and his men had spent the next, god knows how long trying countless methods and tactics they always used to get people like her to talk. But nothing worked, even after repeatedly taking out the gag, waiting for the answers they had been searching for, she didn't budge.

She stayed completely stoic.

Tom tried his best to keep calm, unbuttoning the top of his shirt when his breath became restraint with the added pressure to around his neck

“It wouldn't matter anyways,” she sniffed, finally calming down while spitting out a wad of blood from her mouth, “I’ve already gotten what I wanted,”

“What the fuck is that suppose too mean,” Tom said exasperatedly.

“It means-,” she interrupted herself while trying to stop the sick laughter threatening to erupt from her throat, “I never thought you cared so much about me Tommy, to spend so long with me when-,” she tilted her head to the side, “You have a wife at home don’t you?”

Tom felt his heart stop, “What did you do?”

“Might want to check that little wifey of yours Tommy,” she cackled, blood splattering from her mouth, staining the collar of her shirt and the floor in front of her, “Who knows how much time she might have left!”

“WHAT! The fuck! Did you do!” He screamed, clutching her bloody shirt in his fists, not caring if some of the liquid transferred to his already red hands.

“You left me alone, with Y/n, for months,” she giggled, “What do you think I did?”

“If you hurt her-,”

“You’ve already done your worst to me Holland,” the grin settling on her face became unsettling, “Now it’s my turn to watch you suffer,”

Tom didn't want to question her further. He didn't want his temper to take over the little control he tried to maintain over his mind. With a short gruff he pulled away from the woman, walking over to one of his men stationed by the door of the warehouse.

“Break her legs and take her to the hut, prepare the call and get Dr brown on the phone and tell Sam to get to Y/n as soon as possible,” he whispered under his breath, “Take me back home to my wife,”

...

“Good Girl,” you yawned, lazily scratching the top of Tessa’s head. It had been a chill day for you in the mansion, lounging around in your husband's clothes while you decorated your section of the building, preparing for the holidays. Tom insisted on getting decorators, knowing how clumsy you were, he didn't want you to hurt yourself. At least that’s the excuse he told you, you knew it was because he didn't want you doing any work on your holidays.

Nevertheless, you were proud of the work you’ve done, the lights strung along your bedroom walls illuminating the room, making your placement by the window feel more cozy than usual. And with the addition of the cutest dog and a mug of ginger tea, staring out into the snowy garden never felt more calming. The only thing that would make this better is to be cuddled with your personal teddy bear, but your prayers were answered when he called unexpectedly.

“Hi Tommy,” you answered sweetly, gulping down a good bit of the tea,“What’s wrong? I thought you were busy with work?”

“Y/n?” Tom said seriously, a hard edge to his voice you never heard when he talked directly to you, “Y/n, you need to listen to me right now, okay?”

“Okay,” you sat up, throwing your blanket off your lap, “Okay, yeah,” you learnt not to question things like these with Tom’s line of work.

“Where are you right now?” you could hear the click of his shoes hitting the floor in the background, the sound of the vehicle's engines vroomed to life.

“I’m in our bedroom, with Tessa,” you answered quickly, squinting your eyes when you watched her body bounce away when your hand retracted from her fur, “Well just me now,”

“You’re going to need to go to the medic bay, Doctor Brown will be there and he’ll explain everything,” a car door slammed shut, “Sam is coming to escort you, just,” he let out a deep breath, “Are you alright?”

You melted at the crack in his voice, clearing your throat before answering him, “I’m fine Tommy, never felt better,”

“Are you sure love?” he whispered, his voice losing its harsh tone, falling back to the soft, breathy one you grow to love.

“I’m-,” you moved away from the phone, coughing into your sleeve, “Sorry, uh, yeah I’m fine Tom,”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re okay to me,”

“I-,” you coughed again, this time more violently that the last, “It’s just a cough, probably from that food truck we went out to last night,” you forced a chuckle, trying to keep the air as light hearted as possible.

“A cough? When did this start,” Tom said urgently.

“Uh, this morning i think?” you sniffled, shuffling around to find a tissue box for your sudden runny nose, “I’m sure it’s just a bug Tommy,”

“Y/n, Is Sam there yet?”

“I didn’t hear him no,” your coughing continued, “Do you want me to go outside to check?”

“No, no, stay until he comes, I don’t want you going by yourself,”

Tom’s words began to blur when you took note of the red sploshing your white hoodie. You ran to the bathroom, cursing at the blood trailing from your nose, staining the bottom half of your face.

Your raging coughs continued, splattering droplets across the marble counter

“Love? Are you still there?” Tom said panicked, “Sam said he’s moving as quick as he can,”

“Tommy,” you whimpered, your hand clutching your chest in pain, “I-,” you braced yourself against the counter, feeling weaker and weaker, “Tommy, I don’t-,”you grabbed at your closing throat, “I don’t feel so good,”

“Love? Y/n?” Tom said frantically, “Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, Sam is almost there, I’m so close to our house, hang in there okay?” he debated his next words, “You’ve been poisoned okay? You’ve been poisoned and if you get the help in time you will get better, just,” his voice hitched, “Please don’t go,”

Your throat burned as your breath started to become short, hiccupy wheezes. Blood began to drip from your nose and mouth onto the tiled floor. You could feel your chest tighten, your heart physically hurting until you couldn't take in any longer.

“Tom-my?” you managed to let out before collapsing on the floor, the shouts of your name echoing in the back of your ear before blackness covered your eyesight, followed by a bright, white light.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill @joyleenl @sarcastic-sunset-7

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x gn!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

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miyosamu · 4 years

Text

Ukai Keishin with a husband

A/N: god i want to marry him

ok first of all

before i really get into this

imagine having keishin as your husband?? that’s a fucking Win and a half my guy

that’s one fine ass man yes sir yes siRRR

i’m keishin’s whore first, human second

ok ok let’s start

one of the perks of being keishin’s husband is that you get to see him in casual clothes

listen

L I S T EN

KEISHIN OUTSIDE OF HIS COACHING TRACKSUITS OUTSIDE OF THE SHOP’S APRON

keishin in casual fucking clothes is SEXY

you get to see him in sweatpants and a tank top

you get to see him in jeans and leather jackets

you get to see him in comfy shorts and a baggy hoodie

mAN THE POSSIBLITIES

what’s also better than that is that you get to see him naked too but that’s a conversation for another time

keishin is a very very tired man

his work schedule is insane

he wakes up at 3:30am because he has work at 4am.

he kisses your forehead then head out to the farm

after the farm he goes to help his mom open up shop at 7

then there’s morning practice with the kids

from 9 to 3 he heads home to nap and have lunch before after school practice

sometimes if he’s lucky you’ll come back home from your own job during your lunch break to eat with him and share a few intimate moments before you both have to head out again to your own jobs

when he’s done with after school practice at around 5pm he has the night shift at the shop till 8pm

someone save him please i don’t know how this man does it

so really the only “Us Time” you can get with him is late at night and weekend afternoons when he only has the morning shift at the shop

and usually by the time he finally comes home on weekdays he’s worn out to the bone

both physically and mentally

you get it you honestly do

and you try your best to lessen the burden on him

sometimes you turn off his morning alarm to allow to rest.

you call old man ukai and tell him keishin’s too exhausted to come help in the farm so he’ll have to excuse him

old man ukai grunts and agrees because he highkey has a soft spot for you

sometimes on your days off from work you handle the opening of the shop as well in order to let him rest some more

and god keishin is forever thankful for you

for everything that you do for him and for all the times you’ve put up with his crazy work schedule

cuz he knows you’re more than capable of getting you someone with regular fixed work hours who can spend more time with you rather than crash in bed when they finally come home

keishin knows his shortcomings

he’s painfully aware of them

but everytime he expects you to get tired of him to get tired of how busy and absent he often is

you instead do stuff like help him in the shop or always prepare some fruit snacks the night before that he can take with him when he leaves the house at 4am

every single action you do to help him he stores in his mind and thanks his lucky stars he found someone as wonderful as you

and he tells you this nearly all the time

keishin is a huge romantic softy even if he won’t admit to it

he’s definitely the sappier one

he’ll lay down on top of you with his head resting on your chest and he’ll talk about how thankful he is for you and how much he loves you

“y/n you turned off my alarm again this morning and god i needed it so badly thank you so much for looking after me fuck i always feel like i’m not doing you fair that i’m not doing this relationship fair. you always take care of me so well i really can never know how to repay you for the things you’ve done for me all these years you’re literally the best husband anyone could ever wish for?? you’re so loving & hard working—————“ etc etc

he’s sAPPY AND HE LOVES YOU

keishin pulls through on the weekends though

he’ll do whatever you ask

you wanna go on a date he’ll take you on a date

you wanna stay at home & be lazy together he’ll happily do it

during stay at home dates keishin always builds a blanket fort and honestly his blanket fort-ing skills are beautiful

he buys lights to set the mood and everything please he’s trying his best

keishin is a cuddle bot

he loves having his arms around you

his favourite cuddle position is when he’s resting on top of you with his head on your chest or when you’re the little spoon and he can nuzzle his face in the back of your neck

keishin is a big fan of small quick kisses

it’s a force of habit

anytime you’re close to him he likes to give you a quick peck

be it on your lips, cheek, or temple he doesn’t care he just has to kiss

whenever you take off his headband and run your fingers through his hair he melts

he purrs too but if you ever tell him that he’ll deny it

keishin, being the sap he is, often takes your left hand and kisses your ring finger right over where the wedding ring is

whenever you tease him he smacks you away and tells you to shut up

hE BLUSHES A LOT

LIKE A LOT

IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 2 WEEKS OR 5 YEARS HE STILL BLUSHES JUST THE SAME

if the karasuno boys have never met you they’ll ask keishin questions about his significant other and how they’re like the second they peep that ring on his finger

he keeps telling them to stop being nosy but he blushes while saying it and everyone keeps teasing him about how clearly enamoured he is by his s/o

the day they all started practicing excessively before nationals and stayed later than usual, you had decided to buy a bunch of drinks and snacks to take it to them

when you walked into the gym everyone looked at you like ????? who’s this person

but then there’s keishin who’s flabbergasted and is just like “Y/N??!!!”

everyone was like “coach you know this person??”

you bowed to them and introduced yourself “it’s nice to finally meet you guys, keishin talks a lot about you! i’m y/n, keishin’s husband!”

and the whole place turned into utter chAOS

EVERYONE’S JUST SHOUTING AND YOU’RE BOMBARDED BY A BUNCH OF QUESTIONS FROM HYPERACTIVE BOYS AND THEY’RE ALL LOOKING SO SHOCKED

keishin’s in the corner with his head in his hands like “why…”

thE BOYS INSTANTLY LOVED YOU

you bought them food and you look like super nice person and you’re their coach’s husband of course they love you !!

you bought hinata’s favourite snack and he just had tears running down his face “coach!! your husband is so nice”

kageyama nodding aggressively behind him while drinking his chocolate milk with vigour

someone whispering in the background: “he’s hot too actually he’s very good looking”

cue keishin turning in the direction of whoever side that and just g l a r i n g

keishin is a possessive man

you chuckle and pat his back while handing him some water and you’re like “calm down there they’re just kids”

you kiss him on the cheek and thE CROWD GOES WILD THEY ALL START YELLING OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

keishin’s side eyes you with a blush colouring his cheeks and grumbles about how you totally did that on purpose

which you did

but what’s he gonna do? stop you?

the boys start to regularly ask him about you after that

“coach is y/n coming today? is he coming to our match? maybe he’ll buy us dinner if we win today!!”

he’s glad you all like each other

now back to point of keishin being possessive

he’s not over bearing or controlling or anything like that

he’s just Highly Aware of how handsome you are and how you have a great personality and how overall desirable you are

so he tends to tense up a bit when someone shows interest in you

which is a totally normal thing if you ask him

so when you’re outside together and he sees someone eyeing you or something like that he will simply send them a silent message that you’re taken

and he does that but putting his arm low on your waist and talking cheekily to you very close to your ear and kissing your cheek

basically displaying “He’s Mine So Back Off”

and you know his intentions everytime he suddenly gets this handsy out in public but it’s not like you’re gonna stop him

you know that, at the end of it all, keishin trusts you to death and he’s just doing this to avoid people creating an awkward situation

plus

a little extra attention like this from him never hurt so you let him do his thing

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #ukai keishin x reader #ukai keishin x male reader #ukai x reader #ukai x male reader #keishin x reader #keishin x male reader #haikyuu #hq!!#ukai #ukai keishin #coach ukai

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moonamite · 3 years

Text

Spilling Memories

It was an ordinary day in the king’s castle, one warm afternoon, and the king’s secretary was going about his chores. He didn’t have to do them, nobody was making him do it. It was just something he’d grown used to doing as a part of his daily routine. Like something that was deeply rooted into his head, or something he knew by heart. He made his way to Meta Knight’s room, which was sparsely decorated. Surprisingly, Meta Knight was actually in his room, watching the television and looking very unamused. It was odd, since Meta Knight didn’t seem like the type of person to do such a thing. Maybe Dedede made him relax? That would make sense, since the king was always worrying about the knight and him overworking himself and never taking a break. That would also explain the sour look Meta Knight had. The snail made his way into the room, which was quiet except for the TV. The channel that was on featured a show of sorts, like one of those dramas. Meta Knight seemed unimpressed by it. Escargoon didn’t know if the knight was aware of his presence or not, but he continued with his doings. Right now, he was carrying a plate that held a cup of coffee on it. He knew Dedede didn’t want Meta Knight to be living off caffeine, but he probably wouldn’t mind if he just gave the knight one cup, right? The television droned on in the background, mostly drowned out by his own thoughts. But then he heard a line of dialogue that sounded all too familiar. He didn’t hear the context to it, but it caught his attention nonetheless. “...-ou’re gonna come with me, whether you like it or not!” In a flash, everything around him melted away like a dream, and he was back in the old castle, being dragged painfully by the wrist by his old king. He was tugging, trying to break free from the tyrant’s grip, but to no avail. Then came the crying and pleading. All he did was spill his tea, and for that, he was going to be punished. He knew where he was being taken, and he was begging not to go, crying out nearly a hundred apologies to an unforgiving monster. He was being taken to a place where he’d only ever been once before, and had prayed he would never go to again. The dungeons. A cold, dark and filthy place, the dungeons were a place built for prisoners. The king rarely used them for their intended purpose. Instead, he used them to punish anyone who displeased him, or in this case, for mildly inconveniencing him. Rats crawled just out of sight, no light shone through, and how the floor and walls were built from the same grey stone, it was built to drive people mad. The last time he was there, the king forgot about him and left him down there over night, and didn’t let him out until noon. Not that the king cared if he starved, because he could always just hire a new servant to replace him, and he was reminded of this every day. The king swung open the door that lead down to the dungeons, and carelessly threw the snail down the stairs, landing with a hard thud. The king laughed that unbearable laugh, and slammed the door shut, locking it with a sharp click. The mollusk rushed desperately up the stairs, his fear overpowering any physical pain he sustained from the fall. He banged and shook the door frantically, but it didn’t budge. Then, not even knowing why he bothered trying, he curled up into a miserable ball by the door and cried. His throat burned, and the little amount of salt in his own tears caused the same effect in his eyes. Occasionally he’d hear a noise from the darkness and cry harder, almost making himself vomit. It was moments like these where he wished he could drown in his own tears then shrivel up and become nothing, maybe then he’d finally be free... Suddenly, everything around him shook violently, like an earthquake, only for the vision to fade away as he came back to the real world. Meta Knight had held him by the shoulders and was lightly shaking him. Escargoon gasped as he finally completely emerged from his own memories. He whipped his head around wildly, only to realize that he was really back at the new castle, and that his old king was gone, and couldn’t hurt him. He looked down and realized he’d dropped the plate and the coffee, the shards scattered at his feet and liquid spilled over the floor. It took him longer to realize he was trembling like a leaf and sweating heavily, with tears stinging his eyes. “Are you ok?” The Knight asked. The snail opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He crossed his arms and held himself tight, as if worried he was still not all completely there. He took a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “...Something on the TV must’ve triggered something in you.” Meta Knight realized. He gently grabbed the mollusks arm. “Come. You need to sit down.” He said, guiding him to a seat, sitting him down. “I’ll get you something to drink.” The knight said, leaving the room with a swoosh of his cape. The snail sat motionless. Thoughtless. The only sound in the room was the sound of his own shaky breaths. The knight eventually returned with water, and handed it to the mollusk. Suddenly, he began to cry again. This immediately got the knight’s attention. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concern in his voice. The snail stuttered for a few moments before choking out “I’m sorry.” The knight looked at him in confusion. “For what?” He asked. “F-for thi-is-” He sobbed, pointing to himself. He felt bad for inconveniencing Meta Knight with his episode, and was worried he’d been annoying him. “Escargoon. Look at me.” The Knight said sternly. The snail flinched, but did as he was told. When he looked up, Meta Knight had removed his mask, and was looking him directly in the eyes. “You did nothing wrong. That wasn’t your fault. And I am not mad at you. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you for not being more aware.” He said genuinely. The snail whimpered, then continued crying. “You can cry if you need to.” Meta Knight assured him, pulling up a seat and sitting next to him. Maybe things would be ok after all.

#escargoon #Meta Knight #King Dedede #Kirby fic #the perfect timeline au #down with anime dedede #Kirby

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sisterofleatherfrog · 3 years

Text

The Silence Brings Me Home

Hey! This is my first fanfic so I hope you all enjoy it! I was inspired by an illustration I saw of Crosshair sobbing and holding Lula for comfort (which I cannot find for the life of me, if I do eventually I’ll link it). I meant to get his done before ep. 11 Devil’s Deal (and especially before this week’s) because we still didn’t know what Cross looked like at that point, but I’m slow and here we are. There is some fanart I did at the end, I’ve only recently gotten back into drawing after a long time, so it might be a little rough sorry!

Summary: The Batch get Crosshair back, but what he has, and almost done haunts him. Comfort is given in the simplest of ways: by being presen for the healing.

Warnings: Mention of blood/injury, killing/murder. Heavy angst with comfort. Self loathing ideation.The beginnings of a family healing together from trauma.

Word Count: 2188

It was as close as it got to silent within the Havoc Marauder. The ship always faintly hummed as it cruised through space; the engines and various systems constantly working away in the background via a complicated web of technology and wiring, maintained by the Batch’s resident genius. Rumors were, if someone listened close enough as a ship passed through hyperspace, they could faintly hear the sound of the decillions of particles out there passing around the ship. Something like sand blasting the outside of the hull, but with a bell-like, ringing, song. It was that sort of silence that found all six of the inhabitants within the Marauder.

Tech, the aforementioned genius, was nursing a new goose egg on his forehead with a cold compress while attempting to repair a hairline fracture in one of his goggles lenses. Echo sat across from him helping to guide the nearly blind man in his endeavour. Besides a myriad of small cuts and new bruises, Echo’s left leg lay detached and balanced on his lap, waiting for attention from Tech for a recently smoking blaster hole through the calf. Laying in his bunk, Wrecker was also nursing a new blaster wound: the bolt having ripped through his armour and taken a chunk out of his right bicep. He lay quietly, making sure to stay off his wound so the bacta could do its work and trying to process the events of the day. Remembering the adrenaline and the genuine moment of fear he’d had, but smiling nonetheless. Foreword in the front of the ship, Hunter sat quietly, his face kriffing hurting, his nose having to have been reset after being knocked out of joint. He’d definitely taken a beating, he’d be feeling everything that currently hurt fivefold tomorrow, but the wounds could have been worse. Everything could have been much worse. What could have been was an ache that never faded and a silence that was never filled.

Hunter’s gaze slid to the seat beside him, looking at the small girl that had so quickly become a priority in his life. Omega was curled up on the seat, her arms and legs tightly squeezing Lula to her body while her eyes peaked over her knees to watch the blue of hyperspace. She had thankfully missed all the action this time, safely tucked away within the ship by a promise Hunter had made her swear. He looked over at her, thankful she and his vode were all together here, alive, and relatively in one piece. Still needing something to comfort him though, he reached over and ruffled Omega’s short blonde hair. Her eyes, brown like his, slid over to look at him and he could see a small smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She’d been incredibly worried at the state her family had been at their return, seeing them beaten, bloody, bruised, and punctured wasn’t something a kid should ever be exposed to. They were alive though, and…

Hunter turned his head a little, gazing into the back of the ship where, almost hidden in the furthest recess of the bunks, he could see a pair of long, thin legs encased in black armour. Omega followed Hunter’s gaze and that smile wavered some as nervousness played over her face. She was happy her family was alive and she was happy that her fathers’ brother had been brought back, but the fear of all that time being hunted lingered like a dark cloud on the horizon in her mind. Omega knew it wasn’t Crosshair’s fault. The chip wasn’t something that the host could reason with; locking them far away in the back of their own minds. From the little she could get from what she’d heard, he could be mean, but wasn’t inherently malicious. Everything he’d done in his hunt for them under the Empire was a stripped version of himself- the man was gone but the shrewd soldier remained.

…

Waking up in that dingy medbay was one of the most disorientating moments of Crosshair’s life. He was… a man again, something that thought independently from orders given. But good soldiers follow orders. He wasn’t a drone though. But you are a soldier... Yes, he was, but something else guided him, rather than his superiors he’d always looked elsewhere-

“He’s awake!” The call came from nearby, as did the sound of several pairs of feet rushing in. He knew that voice, but reacted on instinct to the people closing in and jerked his head up, ready to defend, no, attack- Hunter was there, the closest, he was one of his targets-

...So follow through.

No!

Revulsion rose so strongly within himself that everything in his mind that wasn’t his own shrank back like frightened animals, leaving him gasping with an acrid taste in the back of his mouth and a feeling of bile rising in his chest. Pitching sideways he landed gracelessly twisted on the metal floor and began heaving, unable to tell if anything came up at all; not able to remember when the last time he ate was, only feeling a burning in his stomach. Hands gently touched his back but he jerked violently, seeking to remove that touch even if it wasn’t a punishment. When was the last time he’d been given that understanding? When had somebody last cared that his body needed tenderness? It felt unnatural to him now, no longer familiar, and painful.

Voices filtered through as the haze of sickness cleared: “...scans indicate the procedure was a complete success and that he should recover the same as us. Crosshair’s reaction is due to something else entirely.” Tech, he’d know that voice always rattling away with statistics and diagnostics. He’d almost silenced it forever with a single shot- how long ago was that? How long had it been since the ion engine had left him broken and the Kaminoans had pieced him back together, fit him with an eye that didn’t quite measure up to his shooting one and left him always a little off balance?

“Crosshair? Vod?” Hunter now, “Are you with us?” Crosshair felt him kneel next to him and could see his concerned face in his peripheral vision now that his initial haze had begun to fade.

He considered himself for a moment now that the remains of whatever had been in his head were gone. “Yes, I’m here.” Physically, but everything felt so strange. He could hear Wrecker roaring something nearby, probably his loud approximation of a greeting, but he made no move to meet it, didn’t (couldn’t) move himself to. At this, Hunter motioned for him and the others to back off a little before speaking again. “That’s good, we finally caught you and your inhibitor chip is gone now. You’re going to be fine, we’ve got you.” Fine? After everything Crosshair really didn’t think so.

…

Despite the best possible outcome the Batch made their way back to the Marauder, from another downed Jedi cruiser they’d managed to locate thanks to Rex, in an unwieldy silence. Back on the ship they all finally began to address their variety of wounds, and Crosshair, seeing this, froze. This was all him. This was his fault. He had hurt his vod, brought them pain, tried to kill them. He felt sick again, felt as if he was dropping out of his body while his heart constricted painfully and began to race in a clumsy gallop. Crosshair stayed where he was in the back of the ship and sat while somebody got it under way, finally feeling the vague reeling in his gut from entering hyperspace.

It was quiet, nobody made a move to approach him yet. He didn’t know if he even wanted one of them to get close. Everything felt so wrong. He was wrong. What he’d done, betrayed and tried to murder his family, all because of an order?! Him, who flicked his toothpicks at commanders and belonged with a group of defective clones, couldn’t defy an order. Kriff him. One simple pull of a trigger and it could have been any one of them. If he hadn't missed, it could have been Tech’s brain matter splattered over the hull of a downed starship. His vod who was so much like an over-eagre younger sibling. Or Wrecker, who Crosshair had teased and soothed in equal measures in his life. Or Echo who, even though he wasn’t modified like the Batch, could never be normal again and Crosshair had learned to respect him as a brother. And Hunter… he couldn’t think it, couldn’t parse a world where he was dead, where he had been responsible for his death.

Kriff him. How did he- how did he go on alongside his brothers when he’d almost done that? When he’d always be haunted by the pitiless voice in his head (his own, that had ordered the death of innocents) that had repeated his mission as a mantra. He could scrub his skin forever with the harsh scourer he used to clean his armour, but this isn’t something he could wash away. Whether it be in the new scars that had accumulated on their bodies, or the cybernetic eye that now greets him in the mirror, there would be no losing this. No taking it back or making it better. He couldn’t- he should-

A black mass came into his sight and he jumped. Lula was being offered to him in two small hands. The girl, what was her name again? She’d spoken to him when they were all in the cell on Kamino together (the last time they were all together where he wasn’t trying to kill the rest of them). She’d told him it wasn’t his fault, had she known what was working against him in his head? It didn’t matter now. The girl-Omega, that was her name- watched him partially hidden behind the tooka doll with the eyes of his brothers.

“Here” She said, her kaminoan accent still strong after all the time she’d been running, “Wrecka’ lets me borrow her when I’m upset, I don’t think he’ll mind if you do too.”

Crosshair looked at the old, scuffed doll and noticed a stitch in grey forming a cuff on it’s left arm. It had been a dumb scuffle over his and Wreckers continual rivalry and it had ended up with Lula getting the worst of it. He’d stayed up all night trying to make his stitches even and neat, not wanting to ruin the doll. He touched those stitches, gently tracing the line they made before gently grasping it and curling forward, needing to wrap the aching sore that was himself around something. Omega slipped onto the seat next to him and leaned into his left, he wanted to flinch away but something about this gave him... grace. He’d ordered the men under him to aim for her fragile little body and yet here she was offering him comfort through it’s support.

What comfort did he deserve though? What did he deserve indeed. Crosshair gazed unseeingly at the floor, trying to piece the parts of him left scattered in a thousand memories together to once again become the man he was before all this. He startled again when another body suddenly pressed itself into his right side. He turned, a masque of death greeted him, etched into a face permanently carved stern, but the eyes- Hunter’s eyes reminded him of the rail-thin cadet he used to be, not built to fight off any clones who wanted to get a piece of him on his own. He wasn’t alone back then though, three other boys were always there to back him up, and they would patch each other’s wounds together in their quarters afterwards. Hunter, their de-facto leader, was always worried about the hits they’d taken, not relaxing until every bump was seen to and bandaged. It was that look again, that same look that said: ‘I’m staying right here until I know my brothers are going to be fine.’

Some more shuffling in the ship Tech and Echo came into view, the latter still short a leg and being supported over to sit across from him. They didn’t say anything, but Tech came and sat in front of Omega on the floor, letting himself rest against Crosshair’s legs. Echo didn’t move to touch him, but remained in his presence just the same and gently smiled, his posture relaxing to lean against the wall of the berth. Just visible from behind a corner, Wrecker gingerly turned over with his injury, meeting Crosshair’s gaze with a smile already there for him. His injury prevented him from rising, but he extended a large hand towards him from his bunk. He was too far to physically reach him, but the gesture translated anyway: ‘I’m here brother, I missed you, I was worried.’

The Marauder sang through hyperspace; no words were spoken by anyone aboard for a long time. But this silence was familiar, and even though he felt a long way from having earned it, Crosshair could understand it perfectly: ‘Welcome home.’

Here’s Crosshair as in the story, I thought it would be really cool if he and Wrecker had matching cybernetic eyes. I gave him his ep. 11 haircut though because it’s cool.

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sapphiics · 3 years

Text

Didn’t we almost have it

a/n: I heavily suggest listening to Dammit by Jana Kramer while reading this, it is where I got the entire plot from.

dt: to my dear @morcias because who else just loves morcia so much. plus I asked her a million questions to help me figure out details for this.

word count: 3k

content warning: it’s angsty(?) and quite sad but with a very happy ending.

-----

God did Penelope hate driving through Illinois.

The only reason she was coming back was for the bridal shower of a girlfriend from college, otherwise she would’ve stayed in California, where she was at least a good thousand miles away from this place.

All it did was make her nostalgic, almost painfully so. The entire state serving as a physical reminder of her old life. One she had not a chance in hell of getting back.

The urge to race her car to the nearest ‘Leaving Illinois’ sign coming over her yet again, Penelope makes a right turn onto Commonwealth avenue. Christina’s house was only five minutes from where she was.

It was the walkway that first drew her eye. A stone path, small flowers lining it. She could almost hear his heavy footsteps getting louder as he jogs to greet her, meeting Penelope in the middle with a chaste kiss as she hauls grocery bags under her arms, enough food for four.

As she nears closer, her eyes travel up the length of the two-story building, it’s utter perfectness painfully pressing into her like a stab to the gut. It took every ounce of restraint that she possessed not to slam the brakes and just gawk at the vision in front of her.

That was the house.

The dream house. The one the two of them fantasized about back in college. Penelope can practically see the late nights they spent in her dorm, cramped together on her twin bed, their fingers intertwined. His free hand running over her head, pushing her hair back behind her ear and tilting her into his shoulder. Hushed planning of their happily ever after. She can hear his voice whispering in her ear, about how they would have two perfect daughters. He would be a FBI agent, and she would work for a nonprofit organization. He’d cook, she’d clean, he would take care of the lawn, she’d do the laundry.

That was the plan. Their own special, simple, linear plan.

Until real life happened, essentially taking those plans and throwing it off a cliff. That’s all it was now, a pretty daydream to keep Penelope from having to accept the fact that nothing in her life is going like she hoped, and she’s probably going to end up alone.

None of that stopped her from turning into the lot of the house, the door slightly cracked open. A large ‘For Sale’ sign hung on it.

Giving her the perfect opportunity to see what she could’ve had. To spend a few fleeting moments dreaming of the life she would’ve had with him.

Finally found that dream house, and yet the dream guy was long gone.

Her hands shakier than she would’ve liked, Penelope slowly steps out of her car, the two story home everything she ever envisioned.

The path up to the house was lined with daffodils, she could see as she passed them. The front door was a smooth dark brown. Solid wood, contrasting with the otherwise creme exterior of the house.

That would’ve been his touch. He always liked that building and renovating stuff, she could almost hear him begging her to let him remodel the place. To really ‘make it their home.’

The entrance didn’t nothing to deter her, the arching ceilings and oak floors straight out of her most vivid dreams. The arches reminded her of college. Charles Deering Memorial Library, to be specific. She had always liked the gothic architecture, and even he could admit that the towering building’s medieval influence was well executed. And that chill day in March, the ninth, to be exact, when they first met. She was working there part-time, and he needed something from the football archives.

It was his smile that drew her in, his eyes drawn up real small as he flashed her two rows of perfect teeth.

What she would give for one of those smiles right about now.

An embarrassingly loud gasp left her mouth as she walked in further. Ahead of her were a pair of large black couches, perpendicular to each other. A grand fireplace in front of them, an open space perfect for a nice big flat screen.

Hockey. That’s what would be playing. He was huge on the sport, and her mind drifted to an image of the two of them sitting on the couch. Him in a worn out jersey and his lucky socks, her in his beat leather jacket, feet propped up in his lap. She has headphones and her knitting, he has a beer she steals sips of and has a loose grip on her ankle, his fingers pressing against the small tattoo she got the day she turned eighteen. Just like old times.

Without even glimpsing at the side door that led to the kitchen, Penelope could already visualize him sitting on the counter. A soft white tee and some sweatpants, strumming on her ukulele and singing some old 90s ballad off key while she chopped vegetables. Later that night, after their girls went to bed, the two of them dancing together to her parents’ old record player. An old Bee Gees song softly in the background as they sway.

Her mind racing, she’s already thinking of summer barbecues. Her and JJ drinking margaritas in the shade, their children’s laughter bringing a grin to her face. Him talking it up with Rossi about god knows what as he mans the grill. The sun setting as he takes a seat next to her, tugging her into his side and placing a small kiss on the side of her head.

The overwhelming realization that Penelope is never going to get that future, never going to have the future she so desperately wanted with him, hit her harder than ever in that moment.

And next thing she knows she can feel tears running down her cheeks. Alone, in the middle of an open house in the one state, the one city she vowed to never return to, and she’s sobbing like a baby.

“Well Hello Miss!” ,a kind old woman steps out, shocking Penelope back to reality, “You here for the house?”

“Yes,“ she says softly, hastily wiping at her face, “Yes I am. Just a quick look around.” Her hands swipe at her dress, trying to regain even a semblance of composure, “You have a beautiful home.”

The woman casts her a sympathetic smile,

“Thank you. Me and Sarah have lived here for over forty years. We raised our five children in these very walls,” the lady beams, a smile coming over her face as she looks around the room,

“We figured that with them all gone and us not getting any younger, we could downsize just a bit.”

Penelope let out a polite laugh, but stayed silent otherwise.

“You stay for as long as you like! My name’s Carolyn by the way. Let me know if you need anything!”

“Penelope, and thank you,” she smiles at her, Carolyn returning to the back of the house.

Penelope’s eyes catch onto the grand staircase, passing over the perfect crème walls and carpet flooring.

Her feet moved towards it, the view before her so accurate to her vision that it was like somebody reached into her brain and pulled out the design themselves. She needed to have this place.

Right before she can take a step on the stairs, she sees Carolyn return, a dimmed smile on her face.

“I’d like to buy the house,” Penelope states confidently. She couldn’t possibly leave here without having it.

It didn’t matter that she lived across the country, with decent enough friends and a steady job. This was the house, and if she had the chance to get at least one part of the dream, she damn sure was going to take the opportunity.

Carolyn winces, a regretful look on her face. “I’m so sorry Penelope, we just had somebody place an offer for it.”

“Oh,” Penelope’s eyes widen slightly, and she can feel the tears pushing their way to the surface. For just a second, she let herself get entranced by the home, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit that she couldn’t have it.

“Are you looking for a similar house ? There’s one just in Fullerton Road, and I believe it is on sale.”

“No I… I just got caught up,” Penelope waves her hand around the side of her head, her cheeks turning red, “It’s okay, an amazing family deserves this home.”

“Actually, the young man who purchased the place is with Sarah in the back right now. He’s already thinking of renovating the place.”

“Sounds great,” Penelope mused, wanting to be anywhere but here. At least a loving family is getting this house. She just hoped they were as happy as she once imagined she would be.

“Here they are,“ Carolyn announces, adding to Penelope’s discomfort. She had to leave, and fast. The last thing she wanted to see was the happy husband who bought this place to catch her, essentially a random stranger, crying in his kitchen.

“Is your family nearby? Why didn’t they come?” A woman, Penelope could only assume was Sarah, Carolyn’s wife, was talking to the new owner of the house. Penelope stiffened, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

A deep laugh comes from the other person, and she could hear the two people approaching. “Nope, I’m a single man.”

“What the hell did you need such a big house for then?” Sarah quips.

“Just,” the guy takes a resigned breath, “Just wishful thinking I guess.“

Penelope could hear her heartbeats, the sound thrumming loudly in her ears. She shut her eyes, squeezing them to the point of something akin to pain. This couldn’t be happening. This could just be a terrible dream, and when she opened them, she would be waking up in her apartment. Back home, where she was away from her old life here. Safely away from the love of her life, whose voice she just heard for the first time in five years.

“Sarah, this is Penelope. She just stopped by to look at the house.”

Penelope reluctantly turns, peeling her eyes open. To her disappointment, she was still standing in the swept sold house. Still back in her college town.

Still right in front of her ex-fiancé, one she’s just as irrevocably in love with as she was the day he proposed.

“Derek,” she lets out quietly, drinking in everything about him. He’s only gotten better-looking, and Penelope has always been attracted to him.

It was his face, his eyes to be specific, that captured her in this moment.

Because instead of the resentment and anger she had expected, she had deserved, all that was there was a small shimmer of hope. A sliver of hope that she almost cried tears of relief at seeing. Hope she had given up on ever having until she saw it in his face. The same look reflected in her own eyes.

“Penelope.”

His voice usually stern, she can hear the small waver in his tone. Like he’s just as affected by her as she is him.

Even after all these years, she can’t help but melt when it comes to Derek. It was like her innermost self just knew him, recognized that he, no matter how far apart they were, was always going to have a part of her heart. A power over her that she would never give to any other person.

Yet looking into Derek’s eyes, the only man to ever capture her heart, Penelope could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way she did.

“So, um, we’ll just leave you two for now,” Carolyn’s eyes clearly wide as she drags her wife outside of the kitchen, leaving the pair alone together.

Derek walks a couple steps closer to her, the smell of nice cologne wafting to her nose as he moves near.

He opened his mouth, almost as if he were about to start speaking, but Penelope catches his small sigh and the twitch of his hands.

They were so close, closer than they had been in years, yet that short distance felt wider than the thousands of miles she had made sure to have between them for the past half a decade.

The lack of touch. That’s what was halting them.

They were always touching one another. It was an unspoken language, just for the two of them to understand.

To be so close yet not touching, it felt so inorganic to Penelope, so abnormal.

Penelope looks just a little off to the right of him, his presence too overwhelming. He was examining her, and the quiet was anxious.

“Why didn’t you take the ring?” Derek spits out, his low voice subdued by the hurt she could just hear in his voice. “ I could handle how you left, no note or calls. But you left me your ring Penelope.”

She thought she was prepared for this, the anger he would have for her. But hearing the words in real time, from Derek himself, made her stomach turn. A ball of nausea tossed in her stomach, Derek’s pain something that never failed to physically wound Penelope.

“Derek...,” her heart breaking at how much she affected him.

“Did I,” he pauses, sucking in a shallow breath, “Did we mean that little to you?”

“No.” She locks onto his eyes at that, holding his stare. “You- us, that was everything to me.” A fierceness was in her voice that shocked her, and at the look of his slightly widened stare, she wasn’t the only one. The idea that Derek for a second could fathom the idea that he wasn’t the love of her life, her soulmate, was a stake to the heart.

“Was it marriage? Was it not wanting to be married? Because you could’ve told me.”

Surprising her own self, she moves in a half-step, her hands enclosing one of Derek’s clenched ones. Her fingers act on instinct, sliding through his, rubbing her thumb on the back of his index finger. Five years and his fingers still naturally close around hers .

Her teeth firmly sunk into the flesh on the back of her lip, she peers up at Derek, his expression unreadable. He was always better at the reading people thing, it was like second nature to him.

“I promise you, Derek Morgan, there is nothing I have ever wanted more than to marry you.”

Feeling his hand tighten around hers, glancing up to see his brows pulling together, she pushes on, needing to express to him her every feeling. “ You didn’t deserve what I did, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by when I didn’t feel like the luckiest person in the world to have such an amazing guy.”

“ I am so,” words that she’s been practicing for years suddenly getting clogged in her throat, making every word come out like a croak, “ so sorry for ever hurting you.”

Tears burning behind her eyes, nothing stuns her more than when Derek cups her face, his large palm enclosing her cheek as he runs his fingers lightly through her hair.

“Is it the house?”

Taken aback, Penelope jolts her head upward. “What?”

His hand now on her shoulder, he turns her to the right, giving her a wider view of the home.

“Is it the right house?”

“It’s the perfect house.” Her voice trailing off at the end.

She faces Derek, his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to say something.

“We could- we could still have it.” His eyes looking at their hands, in a way that was so unlike him, Penelope didn’t dare try to assume anything about what his words meant.

“Have what?” her attempt to keep her voice even failing miserably. Averting his stare, her eyes land on his neck, where a thin gold chain rests.

A chain that had something that looked dangerously similar to a ring hidden under his shirt.

He looks to where she’s staring, a bald-faced look on her face, and his fingers pull out the necklace to reveal a gold wedding band. The one she bought for him, with the special engraving on the inside.

Through the tears rapidly coming to her eyes, she could see Derek’s face. And the vulnerability and love that shined from him to her

Because he kept it. Even in his clear anger and hurt, the heartbreak she put him in, he kept her ring.

“The plan.” Derek reaches behind his neck, his fingers reaching to the clasp of the necklace. “The big wedding, the two girls,” He slides the ring off of the chain, twirling it round in his hand. “Our dream.” He finally places the ring in her hands, gently closing her fingers around it.

Her mouth falling slightly open, Penelope slowly blinks three times. The words that just came out of his mouth so unbelievable that her brain was taking some time to catch up. She pulls her lip sideways into her mouth, too nervous to say anything.

His hands come up on each side of her face, a tender clasp that lets him turn her head up towards him.

“I never gave up on you, on us.” He lets out a sad laugh, “ Hell, I’m here about to buy a house just to try and get a piece of that dream.”

Penelope bobs her head slightly back, the shock of what’s happening still getting to her. “You really still want it?”

And Derek, bless his sweet soul, just looks at her with a small smile resting on his lips. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing babygirl,” the sound of his old nickname for her better than anything she’s heard the last few years, “that I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life.”

A matching smile coming to her mouth, she brings Derek’s left hand down to her own, and slides the wedding band on to his ring finger.

A soft cry breaks from her lips, and she feels nothing other than pure joy when he leans down, taking her lips in a sweet kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, they can have it after all.

————

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pleasantwizardphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Just you and me

So, I finally gathered the courage to write something and went for a SuperCorp fanfic, because clearly I am supercorp trash. I haven’t decided whether to post it in AO3 or not but if I do I’ll let you know. English is not my first language so if you get any mistakes or some parts lack cohesion please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. This fic goes by the idea that Kara is a very good scientist, she deserves that much, Lena’s background is canon-like. There are no dialogs, only feelings and senses, hope you like it.

*********

Finding yourself stuck in time is hard, at least that’s what most people would feel like under such circumstances, but not for Lena, not right now, where every single piece of “normalcy” her life had is just beginning to crumble, like a piece of sun-dried bread, or the way eggshells crack after someone steps on them, painfully, noisily, in a million pieces, most of all and beyond everything, they shatter unrecognizably and irreparably. Maybe the cold that such pain leaves behind is what led her to run, maybe it was the sudden fear and tiredness that was left in her, like cold steel in her bones, maybe it was the emptiness that started consuming every truth she thought she knew. It did not matter, she fled, running as fast as she could in those 7-inch Louboutins. She never looked back, not even after her flight landed in National City, not even after setting foot for the first time in her new penthouse in the middle of the city. She never regretted it, at first it was rough, sure, like every bumpy road is, yet, after the first glance she ever took at that blonde hair that day in the park, all doubts were erased off her mind.

*********

It was the end of August, the chilly air that announced a cold winter ahead blew her hair, ruffling it in her face; filling the streets, waking scattered orange and brown-ish leaves that had fallen from nearby trees, whistling on its way through the now almost-bare branches. The wind left behind the soft aroma of wet dirt, freshly baked bread and upcoming rain, heartwarmingly, filling her lungs easily with every breath, puffing visible clouds when exhaling. It was certainly nostalgic, the kind that makes you feel warm and cozy and at the same time makes your eyes prickle with unshed tears. Kara felt that pull, as usual, for everything good her life has had, and everything it had taken from her. She stood on the sidewalk, towards National’s City Central Park, glancing around her, taking in her surroundings when her gaze landed on a particular someone, dragged to her as if her eyes were mere pieces of steel and that woman were a huge neodymium magnet; She found herself staring at a sight she’ll always remember, because at that moment, when she first saw her, she felt a different kind of pull at her heart, the kind that screamed “caution!”, but in the good way, hopefully.

Long before she knew her name, what made her laugh, what made fer fidget with her fingers nervously, but above all, long before she had met that woman with dark long silky hair, forest-green eyes and pearly skin. Long before that gorgeous human being, with such power emanating from her, yet such caring, hopeful eyes, crossed her path, long before she made her feel like flying without actually leaving the ground, mostly, who she would grow to love, maybe, maybe she was fantasizing too much, who could blame her, it surely was a sight to remember.

*********

When the double doors slide open, she’s expecting a no-nonsense, powerful, cold-blooded, cocky-demeanor CEO, what she’s definitely not expecting is for such CEO to be almost precisely all that shaped and carefully placed in a stunning, raven-haired woman, whose green eyes could pierce through your soul and would probably make you spill your darkest and deepest secrets, those that also hide so much fear, making her want to walk over there and pour all her support into a hug. Kara swallows. Nevertheless, there is also something else to this woman’s aura, her posture is perfect, clearly carved into her from a very young age, and her smile is polite but stiff, almost practiced, and still, Kara can feel kindness emanating from her, true deep kindness and care. Something brings her to the present again, her breath hitches, those beautiful eyes are staring intently into hers with curiosity and a hint of amusement. The woman in front of her has managed to steal her breath twice now, which is not something she, the founder and co-owner of a start-up company. Harvard graduate and Kryptonian, finds happening often, she has faced great threats, from grumpy bankers to out-of-space threats as Supergirl, yet, Lena Luthor has managed to make her heartbeat go erratic with a simple gaze.

The soft scent of an expensive perfume fills the office, something akin cinnamon, vanilla and a little scotch (?). It is dizzying and a little distracting. She somehow manages to go through her proposal for the CEO without stumbling too much and, fortunately, without rambling. Lena seems fascinated by the proposal and agrees to the terms without major modifications to the contract. After both signing, they shake hands, and maybe, just maybe, they linger a little more than needed, both enraptured by the softness of the other’s hand. Lena pulls away first, fingers tingling, feeling the tips of her fingers warm and a lingering scent of something floral, it is electrifying, like a low current cursing through her veins, making her get goosebumps all over her arms, but she doesn’t mind, as her attention is captured by those ocean blue eyes that seemingly hold the weight of the world. She certainly is nowhere close to getting tired of them.

*********

When they signed this partnership, they did not expect it to turn this way, at least Kara didn't, or so she muses while sitting on the ledge of her rooftop. She truly just meant to get funding and maybe get to work a little up-close with the brilliant, certified genius of a woman. Sure, she is gorgeous and incredibly sharp-minded, as proven by so many magazines’ articles having bothered to analyze both qualities deeply and thoroughly; but after that first sight of her, with such strength and determination to her pose, with each powerful step, with every sway of her hips, albeit hiding so much hurt, sadness, and a great burden, brought to her by her last name; a burden that Kara has somehow come know so well, such need to be understood, because, the truth was, that no one had ever lived through loss the way they did. One lost her world, her culture and way of life, but found love and compassion, whereas Lena was denied both from a very short age, living a life without love, compassion, and affection, in a household where the outside cold wouldn’t enter, as the inside was icier.

The cold nighty wind startles her, it brings to her mind memories of bight smiles, so hard that certain dimples showed, laughs so hard that some wine would be spat on a very white leader couch, sunny days filled with an assortment of foods and a wonderful voice, filling every corner of the room with its melody and a slight accent, becoming more evident when emotion takes a rightful place in her voice, one that comes from a very pale yet very compassionate woman. She has to tell her, it's been just over a year since they first met, but she knows it is time, with them growing closer, she has to tell her she is Supergirl. And yeah, she definitely did NOT expect things to turn this way. (Maybe she kinda did).

**********

When she asked Kara if she understood the quantum mechanics behind the surface plasmon resonance their platinum nanoparticles showed, she wanted to be shaken, mad even, because why wouldn't she, the to-be youngest member of the Science Guild on Krypton? Of course, they didn't have the same metals as they did on Earth, but they understood the physics behind the phenomena. Okay, Lena did do not know her identity, yet, hopefully, but she did have a Bachelor in Mechatronic Engineering and a Master Degree in Advanced Materials, she definitely may have crossed paths with the concept. But hell, how can she be mad when those bright, summer-trees green eyes look at her with such glint of excitement, with a twinkling sparkle or curiosity? Those eyes that were looking at her with a look you give someone you know gets you, beyond understanding your words, those who truly get a grasp of your language, of who you are, what makes you shake with the excitement of a new discovery, a greater challenge. It was then that Kara knew that she could read Lena the way no one had ever done for her, she could grasp what she needed in every moment, what she was thinking, but she also got her sciency stuff, the theoretical jargon, upcoming theories, the physics behind phenomena and she shared her love for technology that could make humans' lives better, longer, healthier. They shared, compassion, vision, passion and... Kara was now almost certain, love.

At least she thinks so, what else could those stolen glances be? She looks up, just to find those forest-green eyes glinting with determination and concentration while those agile slender fingers handle tools and twinkle their way around the solar panel’s circuitry. She is so enraptured by her skills that she mistakenly adds way too much platinum sulfide to the solution, turning it suddenly black and bringing her out of her stupor as the contents boil, violently spilling all over the place, filling the air with a slight scent of iron, evaporated water and burnt plastic. Green eyes break contact with the panel to look towards where strong hands work frantically to turn off the hot plate she was working on, dropping her tools she reaches a hand to help Kara, concerned green eyes looking for any kind of burn injury or spill that may need to be taken care of. After making sure everything is (mostly) okay and that it was just a failed reaction, Kara is suddenly aware of a soft hand pulling her away from the table, vanilla and cinnamon fill the air around her, like a soft embrace, that turns real when Lena pulls her into her arms, a soft bubble surrounding Kara, making her a little giddy and peaceful at the same time. Flowers, fresh-cut flowers is what Lena smells, while she hugs Kara tightly, it is normal to get worried for your best friend after a lab incident, no matter how small, she tells herself, and while it maybe is, it is definitely not normal the way her heart felt like stopping the moment she saw the hot contents of the Erlenmeyer flask spill all over the place, fearing for Kara, feeling it creep up her spine and settle like cold ice on her stomach and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

When strong arms surround her and pull her in tighter, she realizes she has started shaking and hyperventilating, embarrassed she hides her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, and everything fades outside this moment. It is just them, vanilla, and flowers, Kara murmuring sweet nothings into Lena’s ear, hearing her heartbeat even out, and her breathing become normal; and Lena trusting that this person, whose arms seem to be able to lift a bus, whose laugh makes her heart warm and fuzzy, whose smile lights her world and makes her feel safe, cared for and understood; will never let her fall. And perhaps she is right.

**********

Yup, it is definitely love. What else could it be? That snowy January, between hot cocoa and soft muffins, she knew. She is hovering outside her lab, on the outskirts of town, where it was less likely that someone caught her both personas; peeking through the windows, she sees her, Lena is coding the interface that would allow them to take the most efficiency and durability out of the technology they had designed, the mechanical and chemical part was almost done already. She is typing, eyes narrowed in concentration behind thick rimmed glasses, the tip of her tongue poking from a corner of her mouth. And Kara knows, she wants to caress those hands when they were trembling from the winter cold, but also kiss them after a long day working with her computer, she wants to rub her feet after a day filled with meetings and kiss her every time her brilliant mind comes up with a solution for an impossible problem. But above all that, she wants to hold her and whisper into her ear comforting and loving words when she has a nightmare regarding Lex, she knows it’s a common occurrence. She wants to see her crumble knowing that Kara would always hold her and support her, kissing her lovingly every time her insecurities get the best of her. She wants her to feel safe, protected and loved in a way she always deserved but never got.

She sighs, this is it and she knows it, there is not moving forward without coming clean about Supergirl, because, staring at Lena, she knows there is no going back either, looking the way her agile fingers dance around the keyboard as if she were writing a letter to a friend instead of a state-of-the-art software to power and control their recently developed solar panels. She thinks of how beautiful of a soul Lena is, she has such a big heart, she has a huge weight on her shoulders for being a Luthor, a burden which Kara would love to lift from her since it is not hers to carry, it shouldn’t be. Furthermore, she cares so much for the world and the people in it, even for the ones that are not human, unlike her family she is truly kind and compassionate.

Here goes nothing. Kara flies through the lab floor-to-ceiling windows towards the desk where Lena is working, placing beside her the paper bag containing hot cocoa and muffins for her. Due to the cold, the soft warm homey smell soon starts filling the room. Lena looks up smiling, expecting to find Kara behind the treats, but instead, bright green eyes lock with glassy baby blue eyes, trembling lips and fingers fidgeting. Lena stands. She is instantly shaking, whatever it is that could possibly turn the unyielding hero into a crying mess must be of great concern. She steadies herself by grabbing the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling, knuckles turn white. Green never leaves blue. And just when she is about to ask the hero what brings her here, a strong hand comes to the small of her back to steady her and keep her upright. She has never been this close to Supergirl and at that moment when every sound seems to shut and the air stills, she knows.

She knows why those sky-blue eyes always inspired her such calm and confidence, why she always felt safe in those arms that could bend steel as butter. Because in that moment, when the warmth emanating from that hand starts filtering through her clothes, warming her, her senses are also filled with a smell of flowers, mixed with chocolate and bread, and a hint of mint; when a single tear escapes those ocean blue eyes, she crumbles. She crumbles under that gaze filled with pain and sorrow, filled with such regret that she could feel it creeping through herself, nestling in every corner of her body, making her feel slump and heavy. She also sees intelligence, compassion and strength, qualities she has come to be very familiar with under a blue setting. And so, she grabs the hero’s suit in her fist and buries her face in her chest, a single heart-wreaking cry filling the air. Kara shatters then, knowing how much pain this is causing to a soul that has been betrayed over and over again, who has been abused and pushed to her limits. She knows she is picking an open wound with a stick, and she hates herself for it, for using the same trust Lena gave her against her. They slide to the floor, never letting go of each other, tears falling freely through both their cheeks. Lena breaks into heartbreaking sobs and Kara holds her tighter, as if trying to keep her from falling into pieces, from breaking apart, rocking them both back and forth softly. Lena just cries, screaming from time to time, gripping the fabric so tightly that if it were regular fabric, it would be tearing down by now, but it isn’t, just as the woman holding her, the woman she most certainly is NOT in love with, is not a regular human. They stay there, holding onto each other, never breaking eye contact, the hot cocoa and muffins long forgotten.

**********

She really isn’t mad. She isn’t. So maybe she has been slightly avoiding Kara, but she isn’t mad. Despite her first-instance outburst of emotions, she realized she really isn’t angry at Kara from keeping the Supergirl thing a secret from her, yes, she was deeply hurt and upset but she understands the reasoning behind it, albeit she wishes Kara had told her earlier in their relationship it also makes perfect sense for her to hide it until making sure their relationship was well-founded and strong.

She is quite lost though, there is a small hint of emptiness inside her chest from that day which smelled like chocolate and bread, at first Lena thought she might actually and finally be broken, her heart having taken so many hits already. But the pain eventually faded, and that emptiness never left, on the contrary, it became more present, so much that she was now almost used to it. Like a lingering rock in the bottom of her stomach, or a ball of cotton in her throat, constant, bearable but persistent. And now, as the snow starts melting outside her office she wonders why. She knows why though; she just likes to pretend like she can fool herself.

The morning sun is hitting her office’s windows, warmer than it has been for the past few months and as the first drops of melted snow start to fall from the rooftop to her balcony, the pretense falls to pieces, and she falls along with it. She fumbles with her balcony door and stumbles outside, not even bothering to grab her coat, as soon as she steps outside, she is hit with cold, humid air and slippery floors. Taking huge gasps of cold air to fill lungs that seemingly do not want to be filled.

Maybe this is all she needed, standing on her balcony and glancing at the city, the morning sun casting a bright yellow light over her face, warming her skin softly, while her side in the shadows gets colder every passing second. It is enough, hot and cold, day and night, light and darkness, she always wondered to which side of the scale she tipped the most, she used to believe she was all shadows, a Luthor, and Kara was light, all goodness, she smiles at the irony, a Super. However, while she is taking in the city, calm and almost quiet since it is so early, bright light hitting the buildings and cold, contrasting shadows hiding smaller streets, cars, and people, she gets it. Kara was never all light, and will never be, she has on her shoulders an unbearable pain that will never go away and with her powers come hard choices that no one should ever have to make. And she, she is not darkness, she is both, and she can choose which side to feed, and she wants to choose light, just not any light, one that is personified by blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes that she could, and does, get lost into. Maybe, she can bring a certain light to Kara as well, maybe they both deserve it, they deserve each other. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she turned on her heels towards her office and out of it, directly to a certain warehouse on the outskirts of town. The balcony door left open, melted snow glowing gold from the morning sun, dripping into Lena’s office.

**********

Disappointment is that what she feels, no, sadness, for sure, she knew things could go sideways with the whole reveal show and yet, the clench in her heart won’t go away easily, and she knows she absolutely has no right to feel that way, she made that choice, just as she has made every other choice before it. She is tempering with her suit, waiting for her cell culture to finish growing so she can properly test their absorption properties. Soft pop music plays in the background, filling the warehouse with soft notes with a cheesy vibe, the mid-morning sun streams from the windows, lighting the space with an orange-ish golden glow. She finishes her upgrades with a tired huff, never one to hate working on something she surprises herself with such reaction. Groaning with frustration that has nothing to do with her projects and a lot to do with a certain pale powerful, wonderful, CEO.

She walks towards the windows, letting herself bask in the mid-morning light, feeling her powers recharge and her body start buzzing with energy. She clenches her fists, as the warmth caress of the sun on her skin makes her heart ache, missing another entirely different kind of warmth. She leans against a wall and lets her body slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feeling of the sun kissing her skin, softly, almost hesitantly, she can almost picture a certain brunette, softly stroking her cheek, a sweet lovingly caress. A single tear rolls down her cheek from her closed eyes, knowing that such caresses may never be from her, a faith written by her own hand, resulting from her choices, as hard as it is. Letting her straining superhearing and expanding its reach she hears the hustle and bustle from downtown a few kilometers away, she hears the honks of the cars and the heavy panting from people running late for their work, such mundane thing that she may never truly get to live and experience. As her hearing expands, she finds herself focusing in a very well-known heartbeat, one she can distinguish above the sea of heartbeats that flood the city; it is beating absurdly fast, and her first reaction is to focus on her surroundings to find out whether she is in danger or not.

She hears heavy puffs of air, heels clicking steadily and determinately on the pavement, closer with every step, and is she running? Her breath hitches when realization dawns on her, she IS running, towards her. While her mind screams for her to move, to do something, her body is frozen, unresponsive, breath caught in her throat, she absolutely does not understand what is happening and doesn’t know what to expect from the woman that is now reaching her. Before she can dwell on it further, a feminine soft hand with slender cold fingers is touching her knee softly. She is panting from the effort, her breath smells like back coffee and mint, hitting Kara’s face warmly, making her head spin; a slight scent of grounded coffee beams mixed with Lena’s favorite scotch emanates from her clothes, she smells strangely like home; her red lipstick matching her flushed cheeks from running, and Kara cannot help but let her jaw fall open in awe at the sight.

She grabs Lena’s wrists softly and stands up bringing her along. Kara finally gathers her courage and looks at her eyes. She feels like sinking under her gaze, not out of fear, it’s nothing but love and warmth what she sees in those jade-green eyes, feelings she doesn’t feel worthy of, specially not when coming from the Irish goddess. Just when she’s about to close her eyes again, uncapable of keeping her gaze, Lena hooks a finger under her chin and makes her raise her eyes up to hers again. Insecure, scared-like blue puppy eyes find soft-looking bright emerald eyes. It’s understanding what she sees now in those deep green eyes, the same ones that seem capable of reading her like an open book. She lets out a sob, and Lena lets go of her chin, going to grab her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm tenderly.

The breeze brings to Kara’s nose the scent of Lena’s shampoo, smells like rainy days and autumn leaves, and, as usual, no words are needed when Kara moves her hand from Lena’s lips to cup her cheeks, bringing her other hand up. And, what else can she do other than lean forward? So, she does, she leans forward and kisses her forehead, its soft, tender, like a butterflies’ kiss, just barely brushing her skin, trying to convey her love for her beautiful Genius™ mind, for her brilliance, stubbornness and compassionate selfless soul. She then brushes her lips softly on both her eyelids, trying to convey all the love and regret she feels regarding the way she did Supergirl secret-related things. She parts slowly and watches as Lena opens her eyes fluttering open slowly, bringing her hands up to grab the wrists of the Kara’s hands that are still cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking the inside of the kryptonian’s wrists, she lets out a shaky breath, blue eyes looking at her so lovingly tenderly, with such determination and strength, unyielding as sapphires, she feels no questioning in her heart, this is where she is meant to be, she turns into a mushy puddle and lets herself be drawn into the Girl of Steel.

Kara leans forward and kisses her nose, giggling quietly, Lena simply melts into it feeling a soft warm breath that smells like chocolate and honey, suddenly, the emptiness in her chest melts like ice cream on a hot summer day, leaving nothing but love and warmth, like the one from a fireplace on Christmas Eve. She lets out a shuddering breath, relieved. They lock eyes again, and finally all those unspoken questions find an answer. They lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting perfectly against each other. It is warm, tender, loving, and everything it should be, the way every cheesy romantic comedy says it’s like. They pour all their love into that moment, lips moving against each other, chocolate-honey and black coffee.

When they finally part, it’s like breathing for the first time, lungs grasping for oxygen, freshly cut grass, concrete and sun-provided warmth, and it is perfect. Like taking a breath after holding it underwater for a long time, except you never truly knew what breathing was like, until that life-altering breath. They breathe in sync, foreheads touching, Kara’s hands go down to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, Lena rests her head softly on Kara’s chest, nuzzling into her neck and closing her eyes, letting herself fall into that fierce love, like an all-consuming fire, she’s been too afraid to open herself to, to be vulnerable. They stay there, enjoying each other’s embrace, the hustle and bustle of the city blind to a beautifully blooming love.

**********

Kara is very clumsy, it does help her keep up her façade, albeit it is also a personal trait of hers. And right now, as she trips on nothing, while standing nonetheless, she makes it extremely evident. Forest green eyes look at her amused from the other side of the door. How does Lena expect Kara not to fall face first to the ground when she is dressed looking like THAT. Wearing a deep red drees that falls softly just below her knees, strapless, leaving her back and cleavage on display, her hair up in a neat bun and her signature 7-inch black heels, Kara definitely stopped breathing, not that she needs to anyway. She stands up awkwardly, taking the dust off her khaki pants and dark blue blazer. Lena cannot hide a smirk after pulling such reaction from no other than Supergirl.

The CEO pulls Kara into her apartment, it smells like vanilla and apples, probably resulting from the many scented candles that Lena likes to light around her apartment. The only light comes from said candles and several Christmas-like light strings that are hanging from the ceiling, giving the place a warm cozy glow. Kara smiles lazily as she leans down to kiss Lena, catching a glimpse of bright emerald eyes melting glimmery before falling shut. She smiles into the kiss. She pulls apart slightly and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, the raven-haired woman lets out a soft chuckle. Kara grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her to the door. Today it’s dinner date day, they are celebrating the successful launch of their joint solar panels project, the best performance ever achieved thanks to a certain Kryptonian’s platinum oxide nanoparticles; and 10 months of full-on dating. As Kara closes the door of Lena’s apartment behind them, the warm smell of the candles fills the hallway and follows them into the elevator, a fluffy plush blanket, a protective mantle surrounding them.

**********

drip…drip… the constant crash of raindrops against the windows surrounding them, rain pouring heavily around them, drowning the usually loud noises of the city’s rush hour, washing away the strong smell of smog. They are tucked under a bus station stop, at least Lena is, Kara is already dripping, since she stubbornly stood outside the small protection the roof offers so Lena and other humas could take cover, she doesn’t get sick anyway. Lena is shivering, although it has been a remarkably hot summer, today was quite a cloudy day and it rained for the most part, resulting in a temperature drop of several degrees. The brunette leans into Kara seeking for her abnormally high body temperature to warm herself up, but the Girl of Steel has other plans, since she cannot fly Lena to their apartment, she might as well take the best out of the situation.

Just as Lena is dropping her full body weight into her, she slides away, pulling Lena’s hand with her, directly into the downpour. Lena gasps when the first heavy drops of the cold water hit her, feeling her clothes get soaked almost instantly, she feels the raindrops roll down her skin and further dampening her clothes, the smell of the rain fully hits her now and when she lifts her eyes from where they were looking at the floor not to trip, she sees Kara smiling her signature megawatt smile at her, completely soaked and intertwining their fingers playfully, so Lena smiles, smiles so hard her dimples show. She lets herself be dragged by Kara, running under the rain, feeling the cold sweeping into her bones, and feeling more whole and filled with happiness than she has in a very long time, if ever.

Kara jumps over a puddle with all the grace of a gazelle, letting go of the CEO’s hand, such displays of her true nature still wonder Lena, just when she is about to make the jump herself, Kara stops and abruptly turns towards her. The world stops. Or maybe she is the one that freezes, the only thing she can hear is the rain pouring heavily around them, and her heart beating erratically in her chest, ringing in her ears, the smell of rain mixes with Kara’s floral perfume, she is getting closer now. The brunette starts shaking, and it has nothing to do with the cold water still running down her body. Kara stands in front of her, soaking wet, dirt all over her jeans from playing in the rain, her hair falls in wet dirty blonde strands around her face, her eyes as baby blue as always are dim because of the raindrops that coat her glasses, and in her soaking hands she’s holding an astonishingly made silver ring, two intertwined silver strings hold one small bright emerald in the middle, the inside of one of the string, in almost unreadably tiny letters reads “You are my hero”. The simplicity of the stone in contrast with the intricate design of the ring.

Lena forgets how to breathe, but Kara understands, so she just waits there, with the most loving smile ever seen stamped on her face. When Lena’s out of body experience ends, she simply nods enthusiastically. And so, the world starts spinning again, the honks of the cars return, engines roaring and muffled conversations, all muted by the rain, washing over them as reality sinks in, they are choosing each other, even when the world has tried to pull them apart repeatedly, furthermore, against each other, for them, none of it matters, just them, here and now, kissing for the first time in hopefully many years to come. Lena lets her hands drape loosely around Kara’s neck, feeling the grounding weight of the ring on her left ring finger, hot against her cold skin, the same way Kara’s hands, which hold her together.

#supergirl #supercorp #fanfic #karlena #kryptonian #i wrote this on a whim #please give me feedback #this is my first fic #be kind

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

“Carry me home”

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Thigh riding.

"You make me feel like I've had too much to drink, the room is spinning and I trip on my feet"

Carry me home - Michelle Branch

In an unfamiliar city, you ran into a familiar face. And maybe you had never noticed the way he looked at you before, but you certainly did now 🍻

Dedicated to the lovely @angel-spidey who helped me discover a new kink; darling, without your "Minor inconvenience" this would not exist 💜

MY MASTERLIST

He tasted like alcohol and mentos and the salt from the chips, and you knew you shouldn't find it so delicious, but you did.

"We shouldn't be doing this" He breathed out against your lips, right before diving in again, one hand on your thigh, sneaking under your dress, the other firm on your waist, holding you close as he walked you backwards in the dark.

"Why that?" You mumbled into his kiss, as your back hit the wall. He stumbled, trapping you under his weight, every inch of his rock hard body now pressed against yours.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

"Harrison? Oh my god, hi!"

You felt something else rock hard, poking at your hip, making you squirm under him.

"Oh, god!" He released your swollen lips to bury his face against your neck at the movement, mouth open and breathing hard. He used the hand now splayed on your ass to press you even closer.

"So, how you've seen?"

"I heard you were living in the city but-"

You both started at the same time. He chuckled and you smiled: he had always had an adorable laugh...

"Because… fuck!.. Cause you're drunk"

You pushed his coat off his shoulders,

"Harrison, I'm not that drunk"

He took his hands off your body to help you get rid of it.

"I guess that answers the question of what are you doing here"

"Yup, I was in the neighbourhood" You giggled, "What about you? What are you doing on this side of London?"

"I was… nowhere near the neighbourhood" He admitted, avoiding your eyes by signaling the bartender to bring him another pint, "Would it be too creepy of me if I had seen your instagram story and… wanted to come hang out with you like we used to?"

Your gaze fell on his reddened cheeks. Had he always been so cute?

"No. Not creepy at all…"

"Love, I had to carry you out of the pub"

"I was pretending" You lied shamelessly, knowing fully well that without him keeping you up right and the wall supporting your weight, you'd be falling face first on the floor. Clumsy fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt, "I just wanted to feel your strong arms around me"

He cursed as you ran your fingernails down his biceps, pushing the fabric off them.

"I'm still more sober than you are" he chuckled, arm snaking around your waist to stabilize you when you staggered, trying to get rid of your own coat.

You felt your cheeks heat up under his unrelenting icy blues.

"Stop looking at me like that"

"Like what?" His smirk was smug. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. "This is how I've always looked at you. You were just too… starstruck by Tom to notice…"

You bit your lip and his eyes zeroed in the movement. You lowered your glass on the table, afraid it would slip from your sweaty grasp.

"I am noticing now"

"Not my fault" You whined, eyes and hands flying to his naked chest, fingertips tracing the lines and planes hungrily, "You make my head spin"

A growl, an honest to god growl, left his throat. He lifted you from the ground, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips to stop from falling as he carried you up the stairs almost effortlessly.

"You really are strong, aren't you?"

He kicked the door of his bedroom open, tossing you on the bed.

"And you" He murmured in awe, watching your body bounce on his mattress, "are fucking perfect"

It was surreal, he had dreamed about this, about having you in his arms, in his bed, for so long, he could hardly believe it. You had been in his head, obsessing his waking hours and haunting his nights, ever since that short week during the summer when your paths had crossed. Even as the months passed and your memory somewhat faded, you were still there, in the background of his mind, a warm presence made of sunlight and ocean breeze.

And now you were finally there, in the flesh, lips soft and sweet and real on his. Eyes alight with lust and glazed by desire and… booze. Getting tangled in your own dress as you tried to take it off, almost falling from the bed. It dawned on him exactly how much you had drank, and it was as sobering as a bucket of cold water emptied on his head.

"Love, are you alright?" Big hands caught you before you reached the floor.

"I'm ok! I'm ok!" You giggled, voice muffled by the fabric covering your face, "A little help with my dress?"

Harrison tugged it down, straightening it and releasing you, before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed.

"Not what I meant, Harrison" You watched his hunched form in confusion, as he rubbed his face with his hands. "Haz?" He could practically hear your perplexed frown, "What's wrong?"

"We can't do this, love…"

"What? Why? Did- Did I do something wrong?" The little catch in your voice at the end broke his heart.

"No" he denied, fiercely, callused hands cupping your face softly, "No, baby, you did nothing wrong… but I almost did. I want you so bad, princess, and I have for so long, that I got carried away. I didn't realize, this isn't like you. You're way too drunk"

Way too drunk to fully understand what you were doing. Way too drunk to be able to consent.

But drunken you was selfish, and reckless. All you've heard was that he wanted you, all you were able to understand was that you wanted him too.

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, capturing his lips as a sneaky hand found the bulge in his pants, proof of his desire for you. And what a considerable proof it was. You started rubbing him through his jeans, but he grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling your hand away even as a helpless moan escaped his lips.

"No, princess" He intended it like an order, but it came out pleading, "Not like this, not while you're drunk. Not when you won't even remember it in the morning…"

He couldn't be something you'd end up regretting the next day, his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

"But I want you" You pouted, and Harrison almost melted right there and then, "Haz, please…"

You sounded so pretty begging for him, looked so gorgeous with your skin flushed and your hair undone on top of him. And you had started to move, grinding your core against him, creating the most delicious of frictions. He was done for, and he knew it. He couldn't resist you.

But he still wasn't going to take advantage of you.

"You're so horny, aren't you, princess?"

"Yes" you gasped when you felt him starting to buck his hips to meet yours, the zipper of his jeans hitting your clit just right to make you see stars. His lips trailed kisses down your neck, tasting, nibbling, all the way to the top of your breast, but never delving inside your dress.

"Bet I could make you come like this… without even fucking you" His breathing was coming off heavy and hot against your skin, his fingertips digging into your back as he built his rhythm. Your replying moan had his cock twitching inside his pants.

"And you'd like that, wouldn't you? Tell me you would like that, princess…"

You tried to focus through the intoxicating haze of pleasure,

"Yes…" you managed, brokenly, "I would like that… anything Haz, please"

His hands went to your waist, squeezing hard and halting your movements as he stopped his. You could have cried in frustration.

"Anything, baby?"

You nodded, eagerly, the movement making you a little dizzy. But he held you up.

"Then ride my thigh"

"Wha-what?" It didn't make any sense, up until a second ago you were sure he was just about to release his cock and fuck you silly, what with the way he was clutching at your body, the way he was kissing you, all teeth and animalistic passion.

"Be a good girl tonight and ride my thigh" he spoke in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, "And tomorrow when you're sober, if you still want me too, I promise that I'll fuck you until you can't walk…"

"Fuck!"

"If you're a good girl" You could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

"I will!" You quickly agreed, "I wanna be your good girl"

God, you were going to be the death of him.

With gentle hands, Harrison guided you until you were straddling one of his thick, muscular thighs. There was power in those muscles, you could feel it as he tensed them and relaxed them so you could feel every cord, every valley and dip in his flesh.

"Come on, love" He encouraged, placing an incongruously chaste kiss on your lips, "let me see you ride…"

Had you been sober, you'd probably would have been more shy, but as it was you were too far gone to care about anything but the painfully attractive boy giving you orders. You started rocking your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. The rough fabric of his pants felt delicious against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as you feasted on the miles of naked skin of his chest, his shoulders, his abs.

"Yeah, just like that, love" Haz praised as the little whines and moans began, the sounds going straight to his aching cock, "You're doing so well… I can feel your wetness through my jeans… is all that for me?"

You nodded yes, incapable of forming the words. It was incredible, how good his iron solid muscles felt between your legs as he locked them and relaxed them to add to your sensations. Harrison was telling the truth, you were making a mess of his jeans.

And he absolutely loved it.

One hand tangled on your hair, pulling your head back, dark blue eyes taking you in.

"Look at you… so beautiful, bouncing on my leg… so desperate for it…"

You felt his gaze on your body, heavy as a physical caress. You let go of his neck to tug at his free hand.

"Haz… touch me, please"

He didn't have much of a choice, as you place his palm over your left breast, watching in satisfaction at his slack jawed expression. You arched your back, pressing yourself harder into his touch, hips going faster.

"I love to see you use me, princess. Is this how you gonna use my cock tomorrow?"

You sobbed,

"Now. I want your cock now!"

He gulped, willing himself to be strong.

"No. I wanna see you make yourself come on my leg"

You pouted. But an idea sparked inside your head.

"Fuck!" Harrison almost choked on thin air when you bunched your dress up, giving him a perfect view of the ruined little triangle of black lace you were wearing, the only thing covering your pussy as you rubbed it against his thigh.

"You said… you wanted to see…"

"Bad, bad girl" He admonished, squeezing your breast harder, sending another shock of pleasure to the storm already building inside your loins, making you cry out "shit, princess, are you close?"

In an instant, he forgot all about your misbehaving, it seemed so inconsequential now that the moment he had fantasized about for so long was finally within his reach. Forgetting all about the rules he had imposed to himself, he brought his thumb into his mouth, getting it nice and wet before slipping it inside your underwear, holding it against your clit, stroking it fast as your rhythm faltered.

"Haz!" You gasped one last time before your mouth fell open into a perfect letter o, head thrown back, eyes closing in ecstasy. He continued to rub you until your legs stopped contracting around his, helping you ride out your orgasm.

You felt the world tilt and shift around you again, as he gathered you close and flipped you over, placing you on his bed carefully, so carefully.You felt boneless and exhausted, but forced your eyes to remain open, as Harrison placed one hand next to your head in the mattress. Breathless and dazed, you didn't need to see the rhythmical movement of his other arm in the dark to realize what he was doing.

He sneaked a look down between your bodies, your dress still riding so high on your hips, he got a glimpse of damp lace, the single hottest thing he had ever seen. It only took him one, two, three more strokes, until you felt the warmth of his release paint your leg.

You fought it, still not ready for it to be over, but it was a losing battle, the corners of your vision turning black...

"Haz…" You breathed out, his bright indigo eyes the last thing you saw, before a sated, inebriated sleep overtook you.

You casted a glance at the empty pub around the both of you, a regretful sigh leaving your lips,

“What’s wrong, love?” Harrison’s eyes were glassy, nose a lovely shade of red. aparently you hadn’t been the only one to have a little too much to drink.

“Nothing” You confessed, shyly, words a little slurred “I just didn’t want the night to end”

Haz kissed your hand, noozling your palm,

“Yeah...me neither” He breathed out, and you could see in his eyes it was true. You bit your lip. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Maybe come morning light you would realize it was a mistake.

But right then, you didn’t care.

“Harrison... take me home with you?”

That night, you dreamt about soft lips on your cheek, and true love promises whispered into your hair, sleeping in the arms of a prince that vowed to make you his the moment you woke up.

The End?

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield x reader smut #hot harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fanfiction

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kurosara · 3 years

Text

Hongjoong x Reader

I didn’t proofread this or anything. I just wrote some middle of the night comfort I needed.

Angst, sad

I felt my spine unconsciously shiver as yet another cool breeze fluttered heavily past me. A quick glance at my phone told me it was nearing 3 in the morning. The dim light of the screen faded, as my eyes cast back to the bare sky. It was a new moon tonight, and there weren’t many stars out either. There wasn’t anything interesting in the chilly fall weather, unless you counted the never slowing raindrops falling down my cheeks.

Why was I even crying again?

I couldn’t remember. I’d been crying that long. It hadn’t felt like it, but I’ve been sitting on the balcony of my bedroom, suffering in the chilled air, for nearly 6 hours. How long could such an overwhelming feeling last?

An eternity…

A cynical voice taunted me further with evasive thoughts similar to this. It’s dark, and lonely. I’ve whispered curses and wishes to no one. I’ve replied to… no one. Because all I could wonder was if anyone was really listening. The neatly decorated interior, fit with (f/c) furniture and various art pieces and large photos of me and my boyfriend hanging on the wall, felt eerily cruel the moment I walked in. The fleeting thought of my boyfriend stuck for a moment, like the breath hitching in my throat as I visualized his soft smile, a bit of nervousness from smiling at me for the very first time. The happy thought turned sour, the smile fading into a blank stare.

“I’ll be home late…”

The image dissipated with his words. I could barely taste the remnants of the ramen bowl I’d forced down before coming out onto the balcony. The taste was bitter and dry as I forcefully swallowed the growing lump of anxiety. My fingernails, or rather the remaining nubs since I’d chewed off all my nails earlier, felt sticky as they scratched nervously at the cold concrete I was sitting on. I could only assume it was blood from the scraping contact. The balcony’s railing taunted me similar to bars of a jail cell. But at least in prison there are other people.

But here? In this dark and lonely space I created for myself? There is no one. I’ve self-isolated. And every attempt to escape has never been followed through. If I unlocked my phone you’d see the contact pulled up where I’ve nearly called him. And before that a lengthy text that boiled down to one thing; I need you. The text was never sent of course. However, even now as I describe these feelings and sensations, I don’t feel them. They aren’t processed in my mind or my physical body. I simply sat in the corner of the balcony, knees pulled to my chest, staring into pure dark, as my body and the world continued past my racing thoughts of how this is where I should be.

I deserved to be alone.

Keys jingled in the background and it was painfully obvious the individual tried being quiet, but it wouldn’t matter. He could’ve kicked the door in screaming, and I wouldn’t budge an inch.

Hongjoong removed his shoes and hung up his coat on the nearby rack. His bag made a soft sound as he tried to gently slide it onto the couch, hoping his partner was sleeping peacefully, and trying not to disturb that. As he typically did when he ended up home this late, he trekked to the kitchen for a bottle of water to carry to bed. As he exited the kitchen, a cold breeze caught his attention.

Where’s that coming from?

Just like Hongjoong. He knew how much I hated being the slightest bit cold, so the house was always a warm temperature. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he gazed around the empty living room, noticing the cracked balcony door. Cautiously, he approached the door, peering out just the slightest bit and hoping there was no intruder lurking around.

Though he’d really hoped for that to be the case right now versus the sight he was met with.

His eyes barely made out my trembling figure in the corner, huddled against the wall. Immediately Hongjoong turned on the outdoor light and rushed to my side, carefully kneeling beside me.

“Y-y/n?” The worry was so thick in his voice, yet sweet. Like honey.

There he was. My boyfriend. Acknowledging my presence as he always does, yet I hadn’t heard a word. There was no light, though he very clearly turned one on. For a moment Hongjoong panicked. His eyes worriedly scanned my body, searching for any signs of hurt or reason for my being like this. He saw the bloody fingers and the tears still flowing. He knew what was happening, for sadly he’d seen it too many times even before they were dating. At least more times than I’d like. By now though, Hongjoong knew almost how to help. He adjusted his position to sit in front of me, his knees pulled up like mine. He touched his knees to mine, gently pulling my hands from the concrete as he rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs.

I felt the tingling of sensation from the touch, still all I saw was a never ending tunnel of darkness. Hongjoong brought my knuckles to his lips, placing gentle kisses on them before resting them onto our knees. His thumbs didn’t stop caressing the top of my hands as he simply stared into my eyes and mustered the kindest smile he could as he looked at my broken state.

“I know you probably won’t process what I’m saying right now, and that’s alright. Just focus on my voice ok?” He took a shaky breath, feeling his own tears well up, “You’ve been having a hard time lately haven’t you? I know you’ve been eating well and everything because I’ve seen it, but that doesn’t mean you’re alright. And it’s ok to not be ok. It’s not your fault.”

There was a flicker of light, like a shooting star passing across my vision. I swallowed another lump, feeling a bit of warmth from the original tingling sensation.

Hongjoong squeezed my hands, trying to urge warmth into your shivering body. Just the thought of how long you could’ve been freezing made him sick to his stomach. Nonetheless he continued to talk as calmly as he could.

“Just remember that there is someone here for you. I know you don’t always believe that, but it’s true. I am here. Right here.” A single tear rolled down his cheek unwillingly. “I’ll help you pick up the pieces you feel are broken and hold them together for you. I’ll be here to hold you steady when you’re shaking and keep you warm when you’re cold. I’m sorry I was late this time. There’s no telling how long you’ve been here.” Another tear. “But I’m here now baby. I love you.” He squeezed my hands gently once more.

Like a thread, his words formed a silver lining in the dark tunnel. My vision corrupted from pure black, to blurry shapes and images. The feeling of being frozen to my core was slowly warming in the places where his body touched mine. And finally, his beautiful, kind smile. So bright, and such a contrast to the dark space I’d been suffering in. There was a soft ringing that slowly got louder, as I realized his lips were moving. Hongjoong was speaking, yet I could only hear the ringing. Hongjoong saw the way my eyes scanned his face just the smallest bit. His smile grew a bit.

“There you are. It’s ok. Take your time.” He leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as he kissed the back of my hands lovingly.

I squeezed his hands gently, the feeling, or void of feeling, was quickly fading, and in its place a crushing weight on my throat and lungs. My chest heaved at my increased breathing pace, worrying Hongjoong as he realized the anxiety was setting in more than the previous emptiness. Without releasing my hands, he scooted to sit beside me. He let go of one hand to wrap his arm around my shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss on my temple as he whispered sweet nothings.

His voice trickled in like a small river, every other word registering before his kindness fully processed. My beating heart didn’t slow, but it became easier to breathe as I buried my head in the crook of his neck silently. He pulled me closer with one arm, resting his forehead on my hair.

“Do you want to go inside and get under the blankets?” The first full sentence I’d registered in my mind.

I absentmindedly nodded, but before I could attempt to move, Hongjoong was picking me up bridal style, careful like I was an expensive glass or diamond jewelry. Once in our shared bedroom, he placed me on the bed before tossing back the covers and tucking them around me like a child. With a reassuring smile he left the room. Although I knew where he was going, I gripped the covers tightly anxiously waiting for his return.

In a matter of minutes Hongjoong returned with two cups of hot chocolate with small marshmallows, and a pack of hershey’s kisses tucked under his arm too. He set one cup down and offered me the other, which I had to fumble from under the covers to shakily take the cup. The warm liquid felt comforting, with just a splash of caramel the way I loved it. A soft melody played as Hongjoong connected to the bluetooth speaker on the dresser, playing soft instrumentals he had been working on the days prior. Hongjoong climbed into the bed, careful of me and my drink, and opened the chocolates, feeding me one as he grabbed his own drink.

He took the drink gently from me, and pulled a small first aid kit from his pocket, beginning to tend to my wounded fingers. He tried to be as gentle as possible, though I couldn’t stop the involuntary flinching everytime there was direct contact to the broken skin. He continued mumbling soft apologies and comforting words nonetheless. Once he finished wrapping my fingers, he continued with his early motion of serving me my drink and feeding me hershey kisses.

I’m not sure how long we sat like that. Hongjoong rested his head against the headboard, one hand gently playing with strands of my hair, while the other held my own hand. Originally, he had alternated between feeding me chocolates and bringing his now cold drink to his lips. The time on Hongjoong’s phone read 5:52 am. I had long since finished my drink and passed out with my head on his shoulder sometime after 4 I think. Hongjoong hummed softly to the still playing music, like a soothing lullaby. He wanted to make sure I was fully asleep before deciding to move.

Hongjoong gently laid me on the pillow, going to turn off the lamp he’d had on and turning the music down a little more, before crawling back into bed. He cuddled me from behind, his warm chest pressed against my back as he pulled me closer to him in a tight embrace.

“Goodnight my love. Have sweet dreams. When you wake, I’ll be here. I promise. I won’t let you be lonely in the dark if I can help it. I love you. So I hope you use that love as a light. It’s not too late. So don’t give up, ok? We can do this. I love you.”

With a simple kiss to my head, he nuzzled closer, leaving me with floating thoughts.

It’s not too late. I’m not alone.

#hongjoong x reader #fanfic #ateez

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ahlis-xiv · 3 years

Text

journal 50.4

G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.

He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.

G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.

Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.

What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.

G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?

He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.

Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.

---

Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.

“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.

“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”

Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.

“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.

“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.

“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”

That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.

“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”

“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.

For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.

“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”

It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…

“Oh, Ahlis...”

Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.

Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.

“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.

---

Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...

Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.

The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.

I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it

[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]

The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.

But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.

gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha

In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.

I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything

share your goddamn science you twits

I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.

if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist

Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!

OH is that little

[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]

#my writing #the journals #this got way longer than I thought but I did it!#big thx to em for helping me edit this bless and thank #I enjoyed this even if it was difficult to write #hey I finally got some g'raha writing in AND some kinda fluffy angsty stuff? yeeee #; final fantasy xiv #patch 5.4 #shadowbringers #reading for maint har har

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