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starlightguh · 2 months ago

Text

Pampering Present

Word Count: 3,572

Tags: NSFW, Bday Sex, Lapdance, Thigh ridding, Dry humping

AN: Happy bday Zayne 🖤 my first time posting on here so bear with me! You can also find this fic posted on my AO3. This is a NSFW bday one shot, so MDNI! Hope everyone enjoys this bday treat!!

Of course Zayne had to work on his birthday. It was no surprise to me when I tried to plan something special for him and he instantly refused since he had scheduled surgeries.

I was a bit used to him being a workaholic, but as his girlfriend, it nagged at me constantly that I had to do something special for him. Zayne was always so reserved and bashful, so when a certain idea popped in my head, I suddenly didn’t mind that our celebration would be so short and sweet.

The first thing I had to do was bring him flowers and macarons on his lunch break. I walked into Akso hospital with a smile as the receptionist paiged me into his office.

“Happy birthday babe!”

He turned his sharp green eyes toward me with a small smile on his lips, “Oh? Is that today? I must’ve forgotten…”

“I know you’re trying to get out of celebrating your birthday, but I won’t allow it,” I shake my head cutely at him.

I handed him his flowers and sweets and as I towered above his sitting form, I leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss. “Your birth is important to me so let me spoil you…”

He lets out a huff of a chuckle and his eyes linger on my lips as he replies a bit breathlessly, “And what did you have in mind to celebrate?”

I tsk, tsk, tsk, at him and pull away with a confident and smug expression, “It's a surprise, but I will be at your place tonight to make you dinner, so don’t eat too many sweets before then.”

He has a small blush painted on his cheeks as his expression was soft and warm, “Alright. I have more work to finish up here, I’ll be here awhile so you should have plenty of time to prepare.”

He stands from his desk and now towers over me as he comes closer to my vicinity and grabs my waist. It’s quiet for a moment as Zayne’s eyes dart all around my face. He leans in and his soft lips filled with a silent need capture mine.

“Thank you,” he whispers as his lips pull away, still slightly connected to mine by a thin strand of our saliva.

I blink to try and clear the daze that filled my head and my voice squeaks a bit and betrays me as I respond, “I’ll see you tonight! Love you!”

I turn without another glance to leave the hospital and focus on my mission to make sure Zayne has an unforgettable birthday.

I ran to my apartment to gather my things, but most importantly I had a few hours to practice.

For three weeks now I have been practicing lap dancing at a local dance studio. I booked a private lesson to help develop something simple but sensual enough to help Zayne relax.

I had already got him a simple present of a watch that had a constellation of our birthdays etched in the back, and that was all fine and sappy, but I had wanted to do something more special as a way to pamper him.

I loved Zayne to pieces, but he was terrible at unwinding or relaxing from his very stressful life. Only in our most intimate moments did I ever see his shoulders, face, and body go slack in relaxation.

So, here I was slinking my body around an office chair in my room trying to mentally and physically prepare for showcasing this to my lovely doctor.

I was just silently praying to whatever gods existed that when I see him tonight he isn’t too exhausted to enjoy his gift.

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

Packing a cute little babydoll lingerie set and other essentials for our alone time, and making sure the small cake I made was secured, I headed over to Zayne’s condo with my spare key and get to work on making everything special. While I was fibbing a bit on actually cooking, I had already made a simple stew that would just needed to be reheated, so while that was on the stove, I set up decorations. Hanging up a happy birthday banner and setting rose petals all over his neat and tiddy space made me giggle a bit.

Zayne’s place was always so neat and proper, it made me giddy to see my touch of extra care in decorating for his celebration. After scattering red roses that now littered his sterile white space, I went to place my outfit change in his room in addition to setting up the sound system I would need on his fancy in home surround sound.

For someone who worked all the time, it was always a shame he never sat down and enjoyed the things in his home. Of course as a couple we enjoyed them together in those rare moments where we both had down time, but I always just wished he can enjoy some of these nice things he has for himself.

Glancing at the clock and seeing the sun has finally set, I start lighting candles and patiently wait and wait for him to walk through the doors. Finally, I get a text from him.

Thankfully I was ahead of schedule and smiled as I sent a simple reply back to him.

Those 20 minutes of waiting for him felt like a torcherous hour as I plated our dinner and started feeling nervous. An anxiousness clawed at my stomach as I was worried about my little surprise not working out, but as soon as the front door opened and I saw the usual stiff expression of Zayne walk in, all my nervous melted away.

His green eyes lit up in surprise as he took in the sight of his decorated space.

“Surprise! Happy birthday once again babe,” I giggle at his usual expression being shaken with awe, and I walk over to hug his taller and bulky frame. His chest reverberates with a deep laugh.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised by you, but you never cease to stop amusing me.” Zayne leans down to capture my lips. His plush mouth meets me with such a sweetness that I swear I can feel my teeth rattle. I

Before he gets ahead of himself and my secret plans, I pull away and gester to the dinner table set up with food and his wrapped present. “I’m sure you’re starved let’s go eat..”

He frowns abit at me pulling away from him but he just hums and goes along with my antics, “You didn’t have to go to such trouble…” he says while putting his coat away.

“You’re worth it and I wanted too…” I watch him sit down as I make his plate and set his food and present in front of him.

There was a faint blush on his face as he accepted my present, “I must admit, I’m not used to such pampering…But I don’t dislike it.”

Oh you ain’t seen nothing yet, I try not to let my expression give away my mischievous intentions.

I sit across from him as he opens his gift and admires his new watch, he flips it over and notices the etching, “What constellations are these?”

“It’s a constellation from the days we were born…Pretty right?”

A loving look paints his face as he smiles and traces his thumbs across the back of the watch, “Very…Thank you, I appreciate the fact you added such a personal touch to a practical present.”

“Well, I know you well enough to know that you prefer more practical presents, but you know me, I’m pretty sappy.”

He grabs my hand from across the table and his thumb softly traces my knuckles, “I love any and everything you give me, practical or not…Your gifts are special to me.”

Now it was my turn to blush as his gaze was intense, his eyes always made me weak in the knees as the viridescent color seemed to shift into such as passionate expression that was such a contrast from the usual cold and closed off Dr. Zayne that everyone knows.

I bite my lip and he quirks his brow before I shake my head and start to eat my meal, “I know it’s not a fancy dinner but I hope you enjoy.” I can’t let him rattle me before I give him his other present, but his charm made it really hard.

He smirked a bit and began to eat as well, “My sincerest complements to the chef, it’s delicious.”

As we ate, we chatted about his chaotic day, it made me feel cozy and warm to share a sliver of domestic bliss. As we finished eating I ran over to the fridge and pulled out his birthday cake, I placed candles on the top and lit them as I slowly walked over back to his smiling face at the dining table.

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday dear Zaynee,” I sing as best as I can to him and place the fancy white and blue cake in front of him. I made sure to get his favorite macaroons to decorate with and I did my best to draw cute little seals on top next to my sloppy ‘Happy Birthday Zayne’ written in blue frosting. “Well, go on, make your wish,” I encourage him.

As I stand next to his sitting form, he just grabs my waist closer to his and wraps his hand around mine unexpectedly. With a smile he looks up at me with loving gaze and then turns to softly blow out the candles on the cake. His large fingers fiddle with my hand as he turns to look at me once more.

“Thank you…” his deepvoice is heavy with abit of melancholy as his lips twist in a face that tries to conceal his emotions. I place the hand he isn’t holding onto his warm cheek and softly caress it.

“I know birthdays can be hard, but I’m so grateful to celebrate the man I love’s birth,” I place a kiss on his cheek, leaving a small imprint from my lipgloss on his face.

“Well you do an amazing job at making me feel loved,” he brings my hand to his face and kisses it, “and words cannot express how much I appreciate it.”

Now was usually the time I would flirt back with him, but I had to stay focused, I had a mission and I wouldn’t be shaken by Zayne’s loverboy-ness.

I clear my throat and turn my attention to his cake, “Do you want a big piece or a little piece?”

“I might be in the mood for something sweeter,” he says with a purr as his hand crawls up my arm.

Oh no, now he’s horny.

“But I worked so hard on this cake,” I pout, “It’s rude to not even have a piece.”

My pouting works because he quickly concedes with a laugh, “You’re right, I don’t want your efforts to go to waste.”

After I cut him a slice and hand it to him, is when I decide to put things in motion, “Hey I have to use your bathroom really quick, why do you sit on the rocking chair and we can cuddle and watch a movie?”

His facelights up with excitement, “Sure thing, but don’t keep me waiting too long,” he smiles and squeezes my waist before I go to walk into his bedroom.

“I’m worth the wait,” I say with some fake sass in my voice as I flip my hair and close the door behind me. I immediately lock it and hurriedly change into the lingerie I brought. I glance in the mirror to refresh my makeup as well, after reapplying my tinted lip gloss I let out a nervous breath. Okay let’s do this…

I tap his smart home tablet to dim the living room lights and turn on the music. When I open the door to leave the bedroom, Zayne’s eyes go wide as he was sitting in the chair on his phone.

He calls out my name in a flustered fit and immediately puts his phone away as I saunter over to him. In my classes, they told me to make sure I walk with a sway in my hips and a slight drag of my feet to accentuate my body. When I come up to the chair I put both hands on the sides of the armrest, caging him in. “Shhhh, just relax,” I whisper as I place my index finger on his lips and drag it down to his exposed collar.

I then slide both of my hands down his chest to his knees and I spread them apart as I drop my body into a half squat to the floor. I gyrate my hips as I bring myself up out off the squat, face down ass up, I can hear my instructor’s voice in my head as I move.

I turn around in a slow sway and with a dramatic tease of shaking my booty, I sit on his lap and reach my arms behind me to wrap around his neck. I hear the hiss of his voice as he places his hands at my sides.

I grab on to both of his hands with mine and place them on my chest as I whisper, “You can touch me baby, this is another gift.”

After a beat I take his hands off of me and stand to flip myself around to see his expression. His green eyes were now dripping in lust as he drank in the sight of my body covered in barley there blue lace.

I straddle his lap to where my thinly covered heat was grinding against his leg. His hand instantly lands on my ass as he squeezes it and encourages me to continue as he pushes my body forward. I let out soft whimpers as my hands unbutton his white shirt.

Zayne leans forward and hungrily kisses and nips at my neck, his lips leave a trail up to my ear as his voice speaks breathlessly, “Now this is the sweetest desert…”

I lean my head back to give him more access to my neck, “Go ahead…Take a bite then.”

And he does, his lips nip and suckle at my throat as I can feel my body dampen at the friction his leg is giving me, “Zayne,” I whisper and dig my nails into the nape of his neck.

“Well, go on, I wouldn’t want to interrupt you,” I can feel his smirk as his face trailed down to the opening of my cleavage that this particular lingerie set had. Both of his big hands were on my ass as he gave an encouraging squeeze.

“B-But this is suppose to be a gift for you, not me,” I breathe out as I keep moving my hips, chasing that friction.

One of his hands slides up my arm to undo the strap of the babydoll dress, “Your satisfaction is the greatest gift I could ever wish for.”

Zayne’s voice is dripping with desire as it rumbles sweetly in my ear. I shiver and move my hands away from his chest to help take off the babydoll dress, leaving me grinding against him in nothing but a lacy thong.

His hands circle my hips as I return back to my previous motions, he leans his body up more to kiss me deeply.

My eyes roll back in pleasure as his tongue dances with mine, my nails drag on chest a bit as my hip’s movements become more frantic.

With a deep chuckle tickling my lips, he slams my hips to dig into his knee a bit harder. I whimper into his mouth and he pulls away from my lips with a devilish grin.

“Someone needs to practice more,” he says in a mocking tone as he bounces his leg a bit.

“Ah~Ha,” I cry out and bite my lip to compose myself a bit, “It’s hard when my subject is very mischievous…”

“Mmm, but it is this ‘subject’s’ birthday, so you should work hard to please him,” Zayne says as he leans back in the chair and he jerks his legs and hips in a rocking motion that causes the chair to move.

My hands are gripping his shoulders for dear life as I’m following the sway of the chair and Zayne’s legs as my body feels like its on fire.

More and more, I grind my dripping heat into his clothed leg and I lose all abandon as I chase this high.

“Thatta girl,” he praises me as his hands are all over me, gripping my chest and my backside as I drown in my senses being full of him. His touch, the scent of his metallic cologne, the feel of the baritone rumble of his pleased voice, he’s all I could ever want, and in this moment he was the only thing that existed in the whole universe.

With another brunt jerk of his knee against my pleasantly teased center I cry out his name and arch my body back. My empty core flutters and pulsates against nothing as Zayne then leans forward with a growl and takes one of my breasts in his mouth.

Both of his hands reach forward to lift my ass up and he places it directly on the needy tent now pitched in his pants. In the same haste as his tongue is lapping against one of my nipples, my hand undoes his belt and slides it out of all its loops as I throw it somewhere away from us.

“Zayne…Need you,” I whisper as I unzip his fly and my hands dig into the cloth beneath his dress pants to get what I want.

He pulls away from my chest with a flushed and dazed look on his face, “Who am I to stop you? Take what you need love,” he kisses me as I finally free his hardened member.

I chase his lips as he leans back again and I lean forward and grind myself against him, he hisses and brings a hand down inbetween my legs to pull my thong to the side. We part lips and I moan loudly as I grab his dick and slowly insert him into my needy body.

His nose is smushed against my cheek as he lets out a gasp at feeling me on top of him. “Zayne…Zaynee~” I sigh and whimper as I lower myself more and more before he’s fully seated inside me.

I rock back and forth, drowning in the pleasure as I can feel the tip of him hit a spot inside me that made my thighs shake uncontrollably. With the help of his palms gripping the sides of my hips and helping me ride up and down, me and Zayne made the chair bounce with our passionate rhythm.

The stoic doctor was a complete mess underneath me as his face was contourted with pleasure, his mouth breathing heavily and permanently agape as he breathed in my moans. I could tell he was getting close as he gained more control, my movements were all but ceased as he lifted his hips to thrust harder and faster into me.

“Zayne…” I cried as my eyes met his hazy ones.

“Let go…” he growled, “just let go for me baby.”

With another thrust hitting that spot I did exactly that, my hands reaching behind me to his currently wet and sticky knee as I leaned back arching my body behind me. I whimpered his name in bliss as my body was gripping him, “come in me, please…”

“Ah fuck,” he hissed out with a final thrust as his arms reached to wrap around my back and pull me to his chest. I felt the warm liquid flow into me with a pleased hum.

“I swear this poor chair has seen some things,” I tease and laugh against his chest as he comes down from his orgasm.

“I don’t know if I can ever get rid of this thing with you around,” he jokes back to me.

“For your next birthday I’ll just get you a new one,” I sigh and snuggle my face into his neck.

He moves my hair away from my neck and kisses me softly, “Oh? But this one has so many fond memories for me..”

“By your next birthday, I’m afraid it’ll have too many fond memories for it to be functional.”

His hands are rubbing up and down my back, his soft fingers creating gooseflesh on my skin, “Hmm you’re right…Might as well make the most of it while we can then, hmm?”

“Yeah, I still need to show you the whole routine I learned eventually,” I tiredly laughed, “Tonight was just the preview.”

“Well… It’s still my birthday…” he kisses me again with a gentle hint of playfulness in his lips, “why don’t you put on another show?”

I sit up and look down at him, “Well…Since it’s your birthday, I think I can encline an encore…”

Needless to say, Zayne thoroughly enjoyed his present over and over as the squeaking of the chair became the only background music throughout the rest of the night.

~fin~

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #lads smut #lads x reader #lads fanfic

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eccentricwritingbaby · 1 year ago

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baby, incoming!

carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader

summary - you and carlos have been married for over a year now and you’ve gone MIA. what could be the reason? new music or a new beginning? maybe both?

fc - emrata

masterlist

Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, yourusername and 345,765 others

scuderiaferrari our boys are ready, tifosi! are you? #MexicoGP

username they are so attractive its crazy

username lets all pray ladies and gents that there will be a ferrari double podium

username now that is a reach but im right there with you

carlossainz55 ready as always!

username do we think yourusername will actually be there… she hasnt been to the last like 4 gp’s

username idk but im hoping mothers absence is bc of a new album drop

username omggg pleaseee ive been needing her music

charles_leclerc <3

“and you’re sure you’ll be alright while i’m gone, mi amor?” carlos asks you for what feels like the hundredth time as he is packing up his suitcase. you sigh, walking out of your shared closet and placing another one of his clean ferrari polos into the suitcase and then heading to take a seat on the bed next to his luggage.

“quierdo, soy perfecto. i am pregnant, not dying. now please stop worrying about me while your parents as well as mine stay down the street. i am not alone, mi amor, and you are my first call if anything happens,” carlos listens carefully as he forgets about packing momentarily to come stand between your legs that were dangling off the bed, you reach out as he moves closer to hold both of his hands in yours in order for him to receive the message fully, “porfa, i will be fine just like i have been before,”

carlos gives a quick squeeze to your hands and a brief kiss on your forehead as he soaks in the words he was just told, “yo sé, cariño. i just hate missing everything and leaving you while you need me,” the guilty, solemn look on his face is enough for you to quickly stand, remove his hands from yours and wrap your arms tight around him.

he reciprocates the hug quickly with his hands finding your waist with a firm grip, “mi amor you've been there for me constantly and will be there for our baby once they come; besides me being stuck at home will finally give me an excuse to finish out my album so you have no reason to feel guilty,” you slowly loosen your grip in order to look into his warm, inviting eyes yet his hands never leave your waist.

he gives you a short kiss and then begins to speak up once more, “i just wish we could announce you’re pregnant already so that i could be with you, i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder,” he leans his forehead on yours as his hands disappear from your waist in order to lightly begin caressing your small yet prominent bump, “i know, my love, but my manager would kill me if she could not find a way to make one short announcement work in my albums favor, even if it means capitalizing on my baby,” you say with a short laugh.

carlos just smiles on with you by saying, “welcome to hollywood,” there is then a small kiss, a finished packing job, a sad goodbye and then a long plane ride for carlos as he arrives for the mexico grand prix.

carlossainz_fanpage looks like carlos is riding solo again, now for the mexican gp … trouble in paradise? new music? baby bump? who knows but i miss our mother

username it looks like hes still wearing his ring in the pictures of him arriving and all the ones ive seen

username oh thank god bc i cannot handle being a child of divorce rn

username me neither i rlly hope its the complete opposite and us children are gaining a brother or sister

username omgggg i hope she is pregnant she’d just be the cutest

username pleaseeee i need an album from her its been like two years now i cant take it

username RIGHT?! she got married and abandoned us :/

you had already received a text from carlos telling you that he landed and was heading to his hotel and then the paddock and he would call you later.

something about his words earlier had been sticking with you all day in the back of your head, ‘i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder’.

you and carlos had known each other before the fame with your parents being friends and the both of you have dated throughout it. you rarely were apart as you would go to almost all his races and travel with him and in turn during his breaks you would tour and he would tag right along. it had always worked beautifully since the flexibility of your job allowed you to work from ultimately anywhere, therefore why not spend it following and being with the love of your life? the distance from carlos was difficult, not even remotely from distrust or anything negative, just the simplicity of missing out.

you made a fast but firm decision and began to pack a bag. you gave a quick call to your mother in law informing her of your plan and letting her know you’d be by soon to drop off the dogs and then she began to insist she even drive you to the airport.

she has always loved you like a daughter for as long as you and carlos have been together claiming ‘she is just so good for him, no sé’.

then there is a quick flight, a large hoodie thrown on, and a pregnant y/n waiting right outside carlos’ hotel door.

your hand is brought up and with a sharp knock you stand still simply waiting. carlos takes a minute to open the door and as he does his eyes immediately light up, “y/n!” he makes haste to pull you into his room and into his arms immediately, “qué haces aquí?”

“ay! you’re asking me what i’m doing here instead of a long i love you my beautiful wife thank you for coming,” you mock and joke as he continues to rock you back and forth in his hold.

“lo siento, amor, gracias para coming all this way,” he leans back to look into your eyes while one of his hands finds its way to your bump,

“i was just confused because everyone is going to see, no?” he continues. you nod and begin to laugh while saying, “to be completely honest, carlos, i dont give a fuck. my fans will either buy my album or won't, it doesn't depend on our child. and i for sure am not going to miss out on seeing you race or rob you from any papi/baby time just for a stupid album,” he listens to you speak while his eyes begin to glisten over with happiness, “y/n, i’m so happy porfa can we post now so that i can take you out to a nice dinner and we can actually be people again,” he finishes off his sentence with a laugh.

you just simply smile, nod and give him his answer in a long-awaited passionate kiss. “gracias dios,” he whispers against your lips with a small sigh as you just let out a giggle.

you were a bit nervous before but now after being with carlos and seeing his relief you know you made the right decision.

yourusername and carlossainz55 baby sainz coming soon <3

comments on this post have been disabled.

y/ncarlos_updates PREGGERS Y/N ARRIVING IN THE PADDOCK TODAY!

username holyyyyy shit she looks so good

username MOTHER IS AN ACTUAL MOTHER

username and our daddy is about to be an actual daddy!!

username they are going to be the most attractive parents ever

username stop im so happy for them this is so cute

username their entire childhood bff to lovers trope and now they’re having a baby like dream come true

username no fr its like watching them grow up before our eyes its so cute

username shes still got such good style even when pregnant i am green with envy rn

username that makes two of us

username u just know the gc is blowing up rn with which driver is going to be godfather

username we all know that if it is a driver itll be landonorris

landonorris damn right

username WHAT THE FU-

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bkgml · 2 years ago

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ex bf againnnnnn!

(cw! mentions of vomit but nothing descriptive)

i wish i wasn’t shadow banned so more ppl could see this cause i worked hard!! :(

————————————————————————

10:47pm

yn: hey

katsuki nearly dropped his phone.

“bakugou man, why’re you so quiet?”

bakugou sighed deeply, rolled his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak.

“uh it’s nothing. none of your business.” he shrugs him off.

but sero already made his way behind him.

“bro, yn texted you?!” he calls out.

dropped jaws from around him make the boy seethe.

“i told you to mind your business!” he yells.

ignoring his friends screams, kirishima sees through bakugous facade.

“you gonna text her?” he asks calmly.

bakugou meets his eyes and sighs again.

“probably.” he groans.

“dude, what the hell! you were torn up for months after that breakup!” kaminari pipes in.

but he’s already typing.

10:59pm

suki: why are you texting me?

yn: sorry if i woke you up

suki: you didn’t

yn: can i call you?

he pauses again and the boys have now made their way to surround his phone.

“you guys are like fuckin hyenas.” he frowns.

“are you gonna call her?” kirishima says.

bakugou takes a moment to think before groaning and getting up.

“it could be an emergency.” he mumbles out before opening the door to kirishimas room to stand out in the hall.

*incoming call from ‘suki’*

your breath catches in your throat before you make your shaking thumb press the answer button.

“hi.” you speak shakily.

you pray he chooses to ignore the upset tone in your voice and he does.

“hey.” he replies calmly.

“um. were you asleep?” you ask.

“no, i was with the idiots.”

he hears you laugh lightly through the speakers.

“why’d you text me?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“well, i uh.” you laugh again, a habit you have when you’re nervous.

“i don’t feel well.” you say.

he pauses and starts tapping his foot.

“how’s that my problem? i’m not your boyfriend anymore.” he says, sounding meaner than he intended.

you sigh shakily and he can practically hear the tears forming in your waterline.

“yeah, um… i know that. it’s just i really can’t sleep.” you mumble, afraid of his reply.

“what do you want me to do about it?”

the pause is long before you speak again.

“god this is so embarrassing.” you whine, letting an uncomfortable laugh slip through your lips.

“just say it, alright?… it’s fine.” he says quietly.

“okay um… can i sleep in your bed with you? we don’t even need to make contact or anything.. i just feel like shit and it’s so hard to sleep without you.” you whisper.

he takes a second to think over his answer. if he’s being honest he was hoping you’d say something like that. he hasn’t had a good nights sleep since you broke up either. but on the other hand you’re broken up. he shouldn’t be doing this.

“are you still there, kugo?” you interrupt his train of thought.

he breathes deeply though his nose and blinks away some tears that are trying to form at the use of the nickname.

“uh yeah. just thinkin.” he replies, shakily.

“you really don’t need to let me. i only asked cause i’m really desperate and we didn’t end on terrible terms, you know?” you say quietly.

he rakes a hand through his hair and sighs.

“how bad is it?” he says.

“huh?”

“is it just a cold, or what?” he confirms.

“oh um, i have a high fever and i keep throwing up. sorry if that’s gross i just know you don’t get sick because of your quirk. i can’t ask any of my friends they’ll get sick.” you say.

he groans deeply while pinching the bridge of his nose. you guys are broken up, why does he still care?

“meet me outside my dorm in 5 minutes, and im not doing this shit again.” he mumbles out.

he hears you whine and sniff, feeling a tug on his heartstrings.

“thanks, kugo.” you say as your voice wobbles.

“don’t keep me waiting.” he replies.

the two of you hang up and he groans at the thought of having to tell the idiots.

he opens the door and steps inside.

“hey, so what’d she say?” kirishima asks.

“nothin. i’m going to bed.” bakugou grumbles.

“you sure?”

“yeah, fuck off.” he says as he steps back outside.

he heads back to his room and steps inside.

he made sure to get here before you so he could clean up some things he’s not so proud of.

the framed picture of you he’s never taken off his desk, the small bottle of perfume that rests on his nightstand and your shirt that sits on your side of the bed.

he can’t sleep on your side anymore.

he stashed them all in one of his desk drawers before hearing a knock on his door.

“here goes.” he whispers lowly to himself.

he opens the door to see you standing there.

face red and covered in tear stains, bed head, deep eye bags, lips plush and bitten and his hoodie draped on your form. you’re biting your nails, another habit you have when you’re nervous.

“hi.” you say with watery eyes, bringing the sleeve of his hoodie up to wipe the tears that are threading to fall onto your cheeks.

“hey.” he says, pushing the door open wider.

you step inside hesitantly, before getting a waft of nausea and sprinting into katsuki’s bathroom.

“yn?!” he calls, running after you.

he finds you hunched over the toilet.

“hey…” he says, walking over to you and kneeling beside you.

he’s hesitant but he does start to rub your back and clasp your hair in his hand to keep it out of the way.

“it’s alright, let it out. katsukis here.” he says, soothingly.

“hurts…” you whine.

he chuckles quietly.

“i know, swe-“ he cuts himself off, praying you didn’t hear the beginning of the pet name.

you sit up once your done and he sees fresh tears sliding down your face.

“that was a nice icebreaker, huh?” he smiles while he wipes your tears.

“oh yeah, me throwing up. great icebreaker.” you smile back as you lean into his touch.

“better now?” he asks.

you nod slowly before your face crumples up with disgust.

“i still have your extra toothbrush, come on.” he says as he helps you up.

you steady yourself once you’re on your feet.

“thanks, kugo.” you smile brightly.

he has to turn away from your bright smile and your cheery nickname.

“let’s just get you in bed.” he replies.

he waits for you to brush your teeth. while you were together he’d be doing it for you, you sitting on the counter with your legs around his waist and your hand holding his.

he blinks away tears that haven’t even formed yet at the thought of how things used to be.

“bed?” you ask sweetly once you finish brushing your teeth.

he nods and resists the urge to bring you by the hand into his bed so he can hold you until you feel better.

he walks into his room and heads into his bed.

he pats your side of the bed and you bite your nails again before slipping under the sheets with your ex boyfriend.

you turn towards each other but make no move to touch each other.

“you tired?” he asks when he sees your drooping eyes.

you nod and wipe your tears with his sleeve once again.

“why’re you crying?” he asks.

you sniff and snuggle deeper into the sheets of his bed.

“im sorry i made you take care of me.” you cry.

he lets a sigh through his nose.

“i know.” he says and he doesn’t resist the urge to cup your cheek to comfort you.

you whine and lean into his hand again.

“get some rest, yeah? katsuki’s here.”

he’s here. you’re okay.

you repeat those phrases in your mind as you close your eyes and drift off into a calm sleep.

once he knows your asleep he presses a lingering kiss to your head as he finally lets a single tear fall from his eye.

11:37pm

kirishima: hey bro, why’d you leave so early?

bakugou: none of your business.

kirishima: don’t tell me she’s there

bakugou: shut up.

kirishima: bro

bakugou: even if she is here it’s none of your fucking business

kirishima: im just saying you wore torn up for months about her

bakugou: it’s not like we fucked. she’s sick.

kirishima: are you sure?

bakugou: yes now fuck off.

he puts his phone back on the nightstand and ignores the buzzing of his friends protests.

staring up at the ceiling he sighs before he feels rustling from beside him.

you make your way from beside him to resting on top of him with your limbs tangled with his.

he inhales a shaky breath as he wraps an arm around you and kisses your cheeks.

he feels you hug him tighter and he stiffens.

“miss you…” he hears you mumble.

he pauses.

“miss you too, baby.” he calls out in the silence of his bedroom.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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aerynwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Fear of Losing You

Dammon x GN!Reader

A/N: Had this idea and realized it would work perfectly as a part 2 to Emeralds! I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, talks of death, fear of death, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, Dammon is once again a sweetheart and I love him.

Part 1

His screams are the only thing you can hear.

His screams among the dozens of others filling the air. You can’t even see what’s happening, darkness filling your vision as you search blindly for him.

“Dammon!”

You scream his name, desperate to find him, but it only echoes around you, never receiving an answer.

Swords clashing, more screaming, the iron tang of blood flooding your tongue.

What’s happening? Where’s Dammon? What’s going on?

A frantic call of your name has you spinning, that blackness nearly suffocating you as you search blindly for the man calling your name.

He sounds scared. He sounds scared and hurt and you can’t see anything-

Another call of your name is what finally jerks you awake, the all consuming blackness giving way to the familiar darkness of nighttime at camp.

You’re shaking, sweat making your clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin as you take in your surroundings.

Gale sits in front of you on your bedroll by the fire, brows pinched in concern as he gazes at you. His hand on your shoulder squeezes gently as you try to get your bearings, your other companions looking on in worry.

“You were having a nightmare,” Gale says softly. “Are you alright?”

You nod your head, bringing a shaking hand up to rest against your forehead.

“I’m fine I…” you shrug his hand off. “Something just feels…wrong.”

“Such is the way of the shadow cursed lands,” Halsin says from across the fire, arms crossed pensively over his chest. “The shadow magic here affects more than just the creatures it creates. I’m sure when we reach Last Light, we may find some solace.”

You nod despite the deep pit of anxiety settling in your stomach.

“Yeah…you’re probably right.”

You give a small thanks to Gale before laying back down and turning your back to the fire, knowing no sleep will come to you. Not with the fear of those terrible screams returning.

When morning comes, you’re already on your feet and gearing up for the trip to Last Light. You’d spent most of your sleepless night finding the best route to the inn the Harper’s had marked on your map, and once everyone was ready, you head out.

You had tried all night to ease the pit of dread that formed in your stomach, but nothing helped.

It’s as if you could sense that something was wrong. Something more than the evil that cursed these lands. And your mind would not stop going back to that dream. To Dammon’s screams…

“Oh, gods…”

Shadowheart’s murmured gasp pulls you from your thoughts and the map you are currently looking at, coming to a stop as the group does. You’ve barely blinked when the map falls from your hands, utter fear gripping your heart as you see what caused even the sharran to pause.

It’s the refugees. The tieflings from the grove.

Dozens of them lay slaughtered in an open field in front of you, and before you can think better of it, you’re darting towards the massacre and out of the safety of the light Karlach holds.

You faintly registered muttered curses and calls of your name as your companions chase after you, but you don’t care. All you can do is scan each body you pass, hoping and praying with each one that you don’t see his body among them.

You see dozens of faces, some familiar and some not, but you know for certain they were from the grove. And with each one you find that isn’t Dammon you feel equal parts relief and dread.

Until your eyes land on an all too familiar green scarf caught in the branches of a bush on the side of the path. It flutters weakly in the bitter breeze constant to these cursed lands, the only source of color besides the blood soaking into the ground.

You stumble over towards the item slowly, reaching out and clutching the soft material between shaking fingers. Pulling it free form the tangled branches, you hold the fabric up to your nose, confirming what you already know.

It’s Dammon’s.

It still smells like him. Like burnt metal, smoke, and the subtle sweet spice cinnamon.

A cry works its way past your lips before you can stop it, and Shadowheart just barely manages to catch you before your knees buckle.

“He’s…it’s Dammons,” you tell the others, tears already wetting your lashes. “They…they’re all dead.”

The last word is choked out and you can feel a torrent of tears ready to follow, but Karlach steps forward, getting down on one knee beside you.

“Don’t lose hope,” she says, voice firm. “He isn’t here, you looked remember? We haven’t found him yet, and this-“ she gestures to the scarf in your hands. “He could have gotten away.”

You nod as her words sink in, the fear subsiding ever so slightly, but still gripping your heart.

“Y-yes I suppose…” you trail off, looking back down at the scarf in your hand before wrapping it tightly around your knuckles. “We should push on to Last Light, maybe they…maybe they know something.”

The rest of your companions mutter small agreements, as well as words of hope. Even Astarion places a gentle hand on your back, saying something about how Dammon wouldn’t go out that easy.

The last leg of the journey to the inn feel like eons, each step feeling like a mile and each turn and bend looking the same as the last.

Despite Karlachs encouraging words, you can’t stop the sorrow from clogging your throat.

It feels foolish really - you and Dammon hadn’t even really started your relationship and yet here you are… mourning him.

You try not to let the darker thoughts creep in. The thoughts of what his last moments were like. If he was afraid or angry or… scared . Did he think of you? Was he in pain?

You let out a shuddering sigh as you turn the last corner, a cobblestone bridge coming into view, revealing a large dome of what looks like pure moonlight.

This must be Last Light Inn.

You just hope it holds what you so desperately yearn for. But just as you cross the bridge into courtyard, you’re stopped by two Harper guards.

“Halt! Keep your hands off your weapons!” The woman says, drawing her own.

You hold your hands up as you approach, your companions following suit behind you.

“Who are you?” The guard asks, her crossbow at the ready.

You introduce yourself as a friend of Halsin’s, before jumping into your more pressing concern.

“We’re just looking for someone,” you tell them. “Please, we just - I need to see if they’re here.”

The woman regards you for a moment before dropping her weapon. “A friend of Halsin’s? She will want to see you. Come.”

You cast a wary glance at your companions before following the guard, your desire to get more information winning out against any caution. You follow them further into the courtyard, watching as they approach a woman with long ashen hair.

She turns to face you upon your approach, lips turned downward and eyes pinched distrustingly.

Before you have a moment to speak, the woman reaches down towards the ground magic erupting from her palm as vines explode from the ground to wrap around your legs, leaving you immobile.

You panic, tugging uselessly at the tendrils as you glance up at her.

“We mean no harm!” You say, hysteria rising.

You don’t have time for this! You need to find Dammon-

The woman regards you coolly, “We will see soon enough.”

Using her free hand she reaches behind her to produce a small jar, holding none other than a tadpole. You watch as the creature squirms, knocking against the glass as your mind pulses with familiarity.

“This is why we’re here you see?” The woman says. “If there’s one thing we know about these creatures, it’s that they know their own kind.”

She looks to you then, tucking the tadpole away in favor of unsheathing her dagger.

“You never should have come here, True Soul.”

Your heart rate spikes, and you hear your companions ready their weapons behind you.

“No! Please , you don’t understand! We’re not true souls we -“ you can feel your tears threatening to spill over. All of your emotions from mere moments ago to now proving to be too much. “I’m just trying to find someone, please-“

A faint call of your name causes everyone to pause, and your heart stops as you hear a commotion from the back of the gathered crowd.

Bodies are pushed to the side, grumbled complaints silenced as the person comes into view.

“Stop!” Dammon calls, wide eyes settling on you. “They are the saviors of the grove, they aren’t the people you’re hunting.”

“Dammon…”

Everything else falls away then, the surprised murmurs, the muttered orders of the woman questioning you. All that remains is the man before you, the man you thought you lost.

He looks the same as when you last saw him, sans his signature emerald scarf. But there, sitting against his chest is that all too familiar silver and green emerald pendant.

The necklace you gave him.

You don’t even realize the vines have receded from your legs until you’re stumbling towards Dammon, the tears finally streaming down your face as you all but fall into his waiting arms.

“I thought you were dead,” you tell him, voice so quiet you’re sure only he can hear.

His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you securely to him as his lips fall to press into the crown of your head.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” he tells you, voice soft as he holds you in his arms.

You faintly hear the woman who interrogated you invite your companions inside to discuss things further, thankfully allowing you a moment with Dammon, who slowly starts to lead you away from the crowd.

He leads you to a small stone building off to the side of the inn, the warmth from the glowing forge offering you some form of solace as you both come to a stop.

Slowly, Dammon reaches up to cup your face in his hands, urging you to look up at him, bright blue eyes searching your face. His brows are pulled together in concern, his thumbs wiping gently at the tears on your cheeks.

“What happened?” He asks.

Your lower lip wobbles, the tumultuous waves of emotions from earlier rushing back.

“I kept having this terrible feeling,” you begin, sniffing lightly. “Then when we were on our way here we saw…we saw the refugees and they-“ you force down a sob. “I thought you - I saw you scarf, and even though I didn’t see you, I thought the worst and I-“

“ Shhh…”

Dammon shushes you gently, pulling you back into his arms as more tears spill forth. “I was among the people you saw…we were ambushed. But me and several others were able to escape and make it here.”

He pulls away from you once more, eyes soft. “We’re alive, I’m alive. And I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

His words are so sure and full of conviction as if he plans to survive against the odds on sheer will alone.

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward capturing his lips with your own, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

There’s only a moment's hesitation before Dammon responds, one hand cradling your cheek while the other slips down to wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him.

His lips move against yours gently, as if silently reassuring you that he’s here and he’s alive.

He’s the first to pull away, but not before pressing a few parting kisses to your cheek and forehead before tugging you towards the back of the forge.

You follow silently, taking in the small stall he leads you to. It’s clean, the straw looking fresh and the bedroll tucked in the back corner making you raise your brows.

“You sleep here?” You ask, not missing the way Dammon’s cheeks turn just a tad darker.

He nods, pulling you down beside him as he sits on his bedroll, his arm slipping around your waist as you take your place beside him.

“Figured it’s easier this way - I keep odd hours so it’s nice to have a place close to my work.”

For the first time in days you smile. Albiet small, but genuine smile as you turn to look at your blacksmith.

“Why does that not surprise me?” You say, relishing in the way he smiles back at you.

It’s then as you look at him, that you remember the scarf wrapped tightly around your hand. You look down, unwinding the fabric from you before holding it up.

“You’re missing something,” you say softly, reaching out towards him. “May I?”

Dammon smiles again, eyes twinkling in the orange glow of the forge. “I’d love nothing more.”

You reach forward, slowly wrapping the soft viridescent fabric around his neck before tucking the ends beneath his leather vest. You then reach up and tug the delicate silver chain from beneath the scarf, letting it and the emerald pendants at its end rest on top.

You thumb the pendant between your fingers, eyes flicking up to Dammon.

“You still wear it,” you say, voice whisper soft.

Dammon nods, reaching out to brush his fingers against the dagger holstered at your hip. “And you still carry this.”

You smile, leaning forward so your nose just barely brushes his own. “So we always carry a piece of each other, right?”

Dammon smiles, lips brushing yours. “Always.”

Then he’s kissing you again, lips full of promises and so much more.

#Dammon x reader #bg3 Dammon x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 Dammon #bg3 #Dammon

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sage-lights · 10 days ago

Text

pray to god this won't be a mess

word count: 3235 Who knew a piece of clothing could start so much trouble?

“Whose hoodie is that?”

“Huh, what?” Angela glances up from her phone startled as Chanse pulls the chair out and sits across from her.

He inspects her and points at the logo on her chest, “The Bruins hoodie. That’s not yours.”

“How would you know,” she crosses her arms, obscuring the black and yellow “B,” though it was a fruitless effort since the large “BOSTON” letters were still visible across her chest.

“I know you don’t know jack shit about any sport, let alone hockey,” he accuses, “And if you did, why wouldn’t you be repping LA instead of Bost—ohhh, that’s Amanda’s, isn’t it?”

Angela rolls her eyes and picks up the menu from the table, pretending to flip through it. For a brief moment, she thinks Chanse has dropped the subject.

Right as she lets out a sigh of relief, Chanse asks, “Why do you have Amanda’s hoodie?”

“Are you a detective or some shit? What’s up with this interrogation?” Angela tsks.

“You show up for brunch in our friend’s clothes and I’m not allowed to be curious?” He huffs.

Angela pouts, “Okay, I don’t like your tone, mister.”

Chanse doesn’t say anything else, just stares with a look that screams “bitch, you’re not fooling me.”

“Alright, fine! It’s, uh, Amanda’s hoodie. So, what? Friends can’t share clothes anymore?” She’s flustered and she could feel her face heating up, but she refused to let Chanse see it.

“Friends can share clothes, sure. But…”

“Spit it out already, Chanse,” she’s nervously pulling at the cuffs of the sleeves, worried about what Chanse is about to ask her. There’s no question about what he’s going to say, it’s just that Angela isn’t ready to answer that question. At least, not now.

“You know, you and Amanda aren’t always ‘just friends.’ So, I don’t know, are you guys…seeing each other, like…officially?”

“You can use the word ‘dating.’ You sound like a fucking virgin,” scoffs Angela, hoping to play it cool.

“First of all, harsh—”

“It’s true!” She exclaims.

Chanse leans back in his chair, “—And second of all, you’re deflecting.”

“What do you want me to say? There’s nothing serious between us. It’s a…stress reliever, no strings attached.”

“Well, you seem pretty attached to that hoodie.”

“Argh!” Angela buries her face into her sleeve-covered hands and takes a deep breath. When she inhales, all she smells is the subtle scent of Amanda’s musky perfume lingering in the fabric. Her heart skips a beat.

“Does it smell like her?” He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face.

“You’re fucking infuriating, you know?”

“I know. And that’s my job as your best friend,” Chanse laughs, “but it’s also my job to tell you when you’re acting like an idiot. And right now, you and Amanda both are.”

Angela runs her hand through her hair. “It’s really not that big of a deal, okay? I was at her place yesterday, and it got cold when I was leaving. And she had it lying around so she…gave me the hoodie.”

Chanse raises an eyebrow, his teasing grin fading a little. “And you didn’t think that meant anything?”

Angela shrugs, her fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the sleeves. “It’s just a hoodie, Chanse.”

Chanse narrows his eyes, leaning forward. “Uh-huh…”

“God, you’re impossible,” Angela deadpans.

“Look, Ang, talk to her,” Chanse says, softening. “You don’t want this to blow up, right?”

Angela lets out a long sigh, “Yeah…I know.”

“Good. So, you’re a Bruins fan now, huh?” Chanse teases, glancing at the hoodie one more time.

“Shut up,” she mutters, though there’s a small smile on her face as she picks up the menu again.

—————

Angela rubs her eyes and blinks, her vision slowly adjusting to the low light. Los Angeles is quiet at this hour, save for the occasional hoot of an owl. Not a car revving, a dog barking, a group of friends chatting and walking. A rare moment in Angela’s ever-busy life.

Moonlight streams in from the open window and illuminates the outline of the sleeping woman next to her. She watches the steady rise and fall of Amanda’s chest, memorizes the furrow persisting between her brows.

Shit, she wasn’t supposed to fall asleep here.

Carefully, Angela slips out of Amanda’s grasp, her friend’s arm having found purchase around her waist at some point during their nap. She doesn’t want to wake Amanda up, doesn’t want to make this more awkward that it already feels.

“Where are you going?” Amanda murmurs groggily, still half asleep.

Angela freezes in the middle of pulling her underwear back on, “Back home. It’s late.”

“Here,” yawns Amanda, ungracefully rolling out of bed, “I’ll walk you out.” She turns her back to Angela and throws on an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts.

She shimmies the rest of her clothes on, as best as she can manage in the dark. When she feels she’s decent, Angela waits in the doorway to Amanda to join her. Together, they shuffle in silence down the hallway to the front door.

Angela fumbles a little with her shoes. She props a hand up on the wall next to her to steady herself.

Amanda asks, “Are you okay to drive home?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m awake.”

Her friend isn’t entirely convinced, but she also knows there’s no point in fighting Angela once she’s made up her mind. Amanda unlocks the door and swings it open, hissing as the cold wind cuts at their skin. Even after living her entire life in the same city, Angela always forgets how chilly nights in Los Angeles can get.

She tries her best not to be affected by the weather, though she can’t help it when a shiver runs down her spine.

“Where’d you park, Ang?”

She points out the door to the left, “On the other street. It’s not that far, don’t worry.”

“It’s cold,” Amanda states plainly.

“It’s fine.”

But Amanda’s already begun rifling through her coat closet, “Take a jacket with you.”

Angela is about to open her mouth to protest when she decides against it. She’s tired, it’s cold, and she’s filled with a myriad of conflicting feelings that she doesn’t want to try and sort out right now.

She wasn’t supposed to fall in love. It’s not what they agreed on, right?

To be fair, they never explicitly outlined what the rules of this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement was going to be. Doing it at work was unprofessional. Texting about it felt impersonal. And talking about it face to face was hard when they tended to see each other like this when someone was a little tipsy.

But right now, Angela liked the warm feeling of being cared for. If this ever gets brought up in the daylight, she’ll blame it on the sleep deprivation. And plus, it’s not out of character for Amanda to be concerned like this. So, it’s fine. It’s. Fine.

“Thanks,” she takes the hoodie and clumsily wiggles herself into it. There’s a distinct smell to it, strong and grounding.

There’s a weight to it too, though Angela’s not sure if she’s imagining that part.

“Drive safe, baby,” Amanda smiles. That goddamn nickname.

“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks out the door.

—————

Her conversation with Chanse lingers in her mind throughout the next week. Every day, Angela brings the Bruins hoodie to work in her backpack, intent on returning it to its rightful owner. And every day, she returns home with it.

She tells herself it’s because the timing isn’t perfect. Amanda’s busy, distracted. She’s busy too—there’s too much going on in the office for her to be worrying about a hoodie. Yet deep down, Angela knows it’s more than that.

Each time she feels the soft fabric beneath her fingers, her mind spins with reasons to keep it. It felt like proof that outside of their work and group hangouts, there was something private and intimate that was just theirs.

And that was the problem.

Angela knew she couldn’t let herself want more, couldn’t let this thing between them get tangled with emotions. This isn’t what Amanda wants. And if Angela wasn’t careful, she was going to fall deeper than she already had.

It’s the end of the day Friday and Angela still hasn’t worked up the courage. She’s standing by her desk in the bullpen, cleaning up her things for the day, when Amanda approaches her.

“Heading out?” Amanda leans against the cement column next to her desk.

“Yeah, I’ve got rehearsals to run with Patrick for ‘Mamma Mia.’ You?”

“I’m gonna stick around a little longer. Selina, Shayne, and I have a meeting for the pod and Arasha wants me to look over a sketch idea she has.”

Angela looks down at her backpack, the yellow and black logo peeking out of the pocket taunting her, urging her to do something.

She blinks and zips it up, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. While adjusting her camo hat, she looks up at Amanda, “You’ll let me know if you’re free this weekend? We should, um, hang out.”

Amanda nods, “Of course. Drive safe, baby.”

“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks away. There’s a feeling of deja vu that washes over Angela, leaving her feeling vulnerable and soft. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

“Wait, Amanda,” Angela stops so abruptly that she almost bumps into Marcus who was crossing in front of her.

She shrugs one arm out of the backpack strap and swings it around to her front, hands sweating as she fiddles with the zippers. She turns and walks towards Amanda again. From her backpack, she pulls out the Bruins hoodie and tries to hand it to Amanda, who surprisingly pushes it away.

“I always forget to give it back to you,” Angela chuckles nervously.

“Keep it, Ang,” Amanda shakes her head, smiling.

She stares up in confusion, “What? No, it’s yours. I’m not stealing it from you.”

“You’re not stealing, I’m giving it to you. Insisting too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it never really fit me right anyways. Plus,” Amanda winks, “it looks better on you.”

Angela hesitates, slowly retracting her arm and stuffing the hoodie back into her backpack, “If you ever want it again, let me know. I’ll give it back in a heartbeat.”

“I won’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

She’s unsure of how to respond to that, so she just stands and stares at Amanda.

“Take good care of it, Ang.”

“Okay,” is all she could mutter. She watches paralyzed as Amanda strolls past her and towards the conference room. It takes a couple moments for Angela to realize she must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the office like this and quickly heads out to the parking lot.

Once in the safety of her own car, she immediately texts Chanse.

angela: i tried to give it back chanse: wdym tried? angela: she told me to keep it chanse: ohhhhh bitch angela: i’m so fucked aren’t i? chanse: awww ang do you want me to come to you where are you? angela: it’s okay i’ll be okay

She leans her head against the headrest, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Fuck me. There’s no denying it—Angela’s in too deep.

—————

“Angela?” Amanda calls out. It’s late, hours past midnight, and the festivities of Courtney and Shayne’s wedding party have long since died down.

Angela makes her way over from the room next door and cracks the door open. She spots Amanda standing in front of the full length mirror, “What’s up?”

Amanda glances over her shoulder, “I can’t get out of this fucking dress. Can you help me unzip it?”

“Sure,” Angela closes the door behind her to give Amanda some privacy.

When it shuts, Angela can physically feel the air in the room thicken. There’s been something unspoken hanging between them all night, all year even. Now, in a room alone and both their minds pleasantly clouded with alcohol, the tension feels practically suffocating.

Cautiously, Angela approaches Amanda, meticulously unhooking the clasp above the zipper and dragging it down tantalizingly slowly. Amanda’s smooth skin is a beautiful olive, dotted with light freckles from her summer out in the sun.

Before Angela can stop herself, she presses a kiss against Amanda’s spine. Amanda gasps at the cool sensation while the rest of her body heats up.

“Angela?” She asks again. However, the kisses don’t stop, and Amanda can’t control it when she screws her eyes shut, tilting her head back, and bites her bottom lip to suppress a moan.

“You are so fucking beautiful, ‘Manda. Did you know that?” Kiss. “You’re a goddess.” Kiss. “The kind of woman men used to start wars over.” Kiss. “I’m not worthy of you.” Kiss. “But I want you. Kiss. “Crave you.” Kiss.

Amanda reaches behind her and grabs onto Angela, her eyes still closed. Her nails dig into Angela’s skin. In her lust filled haze, Amanda hopes it’s deep enough that she’ll leave marks that will still be visible in the morning. She presses harder.

Again and again, they fall into bed together.

—————

Over the weekend, Amanda texts her several times asking to hang out. Angela sends back one or two worded responses, always something along the lines of “can’t” or “i’m busy.”

They don’t see each other again until they’re back in the office. Even then, Angela does her best to avoid Amanda. Other than the videos they’re scheduled for together, she doesn’t exchange a single word with her friend.

Amanda notices early on that something is off with Angela, though she doesn’t want to prod her about it, lest she make things worse with Angela with her worrying. She still asks around the office, however, hoping her friends also noticed Angela’s strange behavior. Unfortunately, no one else has.

“I know she’s been especially busy,” responds Arasha, “But she seems pretty normal around the office, so that’s good.”

Amanda hums in agreement, even if that answer was less than satisfactory. There’s nothing she can really do about it as of this moment. She can’t force Angela to talk to her, nor does anything seem to be severely wrong with her, so Amanda supposes she’ll just have to deal with the torturous silence for now.

Later, she follows Angela out to her car once they’ve wrapped for the day. This silent treatment could honestly be nothing and Amanda’s just been overthinking it all, but something deep in her gut is pulling her towards Angela, calling her to talk to her.

Even if it’s only been a couple of days, she’s already starting to miss how her name sounds coming from Angela’s lips.

She approaches the driver’s window and knocks, accidentally catching Angela off guard with the sudden sound.

“Holy shit,” gasps Angela as she opens the door, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Amanda answers earnestly.

“Everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Angela looks away, uncomfortable, and lies, “Everything’s been good with me.”

“Then how come you’ve been ignoring me all day? You can’t even look me in the eyes right now,” Amanda says, growing a bit bolder.

“It’s nothing.”

“It definitely doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Amanda,” Angela pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks back at Amanda with a neutral expression, “I think…it’s better if we stop seeing each other.”

“What?”

“Like…outside of work. At night,” Angela clears her throat, “When we…hook up.”

Amanda frowns, “Can I ask why?”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Amanda rolls her eyes, “You really think that line is gonna work on me?”

“What I mean is…it’s messy, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she crosses her arms, defensive.

Angela chews nervously at her bottom lip, “It’s just that we’re colleagues and we should try and keep things professional. It’s best this way.”

“Oh, so you know what’s best for me now?”

“It’s best for both of us. You don’t want anything serious,” sighs Angela.

“And you know what I want. Oh, good. You could start a business predicting people’s futures since you think you can read them so well,” spits Amanda, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She’s barely an inch away from Angela now—their noses are practically touching.

Angela’s gaze flickers from Amanda’s lips to the fire in her eyes and back to her lips, “What do you want then?”

Once more, the air is heavy between them, filled with some mix of lust, want, guilt, and regret.

Amanda can’t fucking bear the quiet any longer. She leans down and kisses Angela hard, holding the lapels of Angela’s jacket to pull her in closer. It’s rough and not the best kiss they’ve shared by a long shot, but it doesn’t matter because for the first time in months, it feels real.

She can feel Angela’s lips curve into a smile.

“Just to be clear,” Amanda barely manages to pull away, “What I want is you. In any way you’ll have me.”

Angela surges forward and kisses her again.

—————

“Shit!”

Angela whips her head around, pausing her stirring of the sauce pot, “What hap—oh.”

All the way down Amanda’s white top was spilt red wine—the glass in her hand was now completely empty. Angela covers her mouth, stifling a laugh, while Amanda stares at the stain in shock.

“Someone’s had a little too much to drink already,” Angela turns the stove down to low and wipes her hands haphazardly on a dish towel.

“I’m so sorry, this is not how I imagined our first date going,” Amanda is so visibly embarrassed, but Angela finds it kind of endearing.

“It’s okay, it happens,” she motions for Amanda to follow her, “C’mere, I think I have some bleach around here somewhere.”

Down the hallway, Angela pushes the wooden slat doors to her laundry unit open. She stands on her tip-toes to reach the bottle of bleach on the top shelf, almost toppling over in the process. Amanda wraps her arms around Angela’s waist to steady her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Angela holds out her hand, “Give it here.”

“What?”

“Your shirt. How else are we going to get the stain out.”

Amanda blinks, “You want me to strip?”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Angela rolls her eyes, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Unbelievable,” scoffs Amanda. In one smooth motion, she deftly pulls her top over her head and drops it into the washing machine, leaving her clad in a white lace bra. Angela swallows hard.

“Look who’s shy now,” preening at the way Angela’s eyes scan over her body.

“Shut up,” Angela shoots back, but her words come out more breathy than she intended.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m going to freeze without a shirt. Got anything I can borrow?”

“Borrow? No. But to keep? I might have a few options.”

“Keep?”

Angela ducks into her room leaving Amanda leaning against the doorway, watching as she digs through her drawers. She pulls out a bright blue t-shirt with the letters “UCLA” front and center.

“It’s only fair,” explains Angela, tossing it to Amanda, “A Bruin for a Bruin.”

Amanda laughs as she pulls the t-shit on, “How long has that joke been sitting in the driveway?”

“I just thought of it, I swear!”

“Sure you did,” Amanda teases.

Angela tugs at her arm, pulling them back towards the kitchen, “C’mon, there's a bolognese with our names on it!”

#amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #smosh #amangela #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction #chanse mccrary

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cinnamostar · 10 months ago

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ethereality

pairing : felix x gn!reader

summary : early mornings with your boyfriend

wc : 913

cw : fluff, mentions of insecurities, just rambling abt being in love idk, not proofread

a/n : i got very inspired by the book im reading rn so i wrote this lil thing in an hour lol let me know what you think!! likes + reblogs appreciated <3

You lay next to your boyfriend, Felix, who was flat on his back with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You’re laying on your side, pressing against him with a leg over his as the morning light creeps behind the curtains, coloring Felix’s face in an iridescent glow. Days like this were your favorite, where it was only you, Felix, and the quiet early mornings that lazed around with you til one of you decided it was time to get up.

Your eyes study Felix’s features, drinking up each detail of him for the millionth time as he scrolls through whatever social media app caught his attention today. His eyes were dark as the universes’ vast skies, yet they were not void of life or hope, his eyes gleaming as if God stepped down and personally hung the stars in his coffee eyes. It was as if his freckles were each gingerly placed down with the tender and steady hand of a painter, one whose precision and attention to detail you thanked every day for blessing you with this angelic sight, one your earthly eyes would never be able to fully appreciate. He was too grand for any being on this planet, not even those with the finest tastes and have witnessed all the luxuries of the world would ever understand just how artisanal he was.

Your fingers trace down his cheekbones, eyes wandering just below his jaw where an emerald vein glowed beneath his skin, just like a photograph of lightning striking down. It was silly, you thought to yourself, it was silly to have found yourself so hopelessly in love with a boy that now you couldn’t help but compare his beauty to the cosmos and world around you. His very being emanated an ethereal energy that you wish you could compare to, one you alway felt you constantly felt short to, but you prayed under hushed incantations that you’d be able to bask under it for the rest of your life.

Was it obsessive? Was it almost biblical the way you found yourself revering him? Probably, but you were too lovesick to ever question it, finding yourself trapped in his orbit, though you wouldn’t have it any other way. For years, scholars in the olden days questioned whether the sun revolved around us, but you quickly found the answer in a matter of seconds the day you met Felix. How pitiful, you thought, all they had to ever do was fall in love to answer that question, but they were too nose deep into their mathematical equations to ever recognize such an obvious truth of life.

“You okay, love?” His deep voice breaks you out of your trance, an amused smile playing onto his lips as he glances down at your lovestruck state.

“Better than okay,” you reply, a flustering heat racing to your cheeks, feeling shy that he had — once again — caught you admiring him.

He drops his phone to his side as he languidly reaches his other arm over you, squeezing you into a tight embrace as he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead, “Can I know what you’re thinking about?” he asks in a hushed whisper, his lips next to your ears, sending shivers down your spine.

A soft chuckle escapes you at his sudden affection, only deepening your embarrassment, “Only for a kiss,” you tease, still giggling as he peels his face away from the crook of your neck with a feigned expression of betrayal.

“Oh? I didn’t know my kisses became a form of currency now,” nonetheless, through his candied smile, he leans down to place a loving peck on your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away, “Alright, pay up now. I did my side of the bargain,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes playfully, your heart bursting at its seams, struggling to contain the overwhelming amount of love it was just attacked with. “Fine, fine. I was just admiring how handsome you are. Is that a crime?”

He chuckles shyly under your compliments, his cheeks flushing into a light pink, your words always seem to leave him defenseless. “You’re too kind to me, love,” he replies, a sad undertone seeping through his words. Despite your onslaught of adoration for him, despite how many times you have made it clear to him how irrevocably in love you were, he could never quite understand what you saw in him.

“You deserve no less,” you reply tenderly, your hands running through his hair comfortingly, sensing his insecurities bubble up just by the slight shift in his tone.

“Thank you,” he holds you tighter, his face finding itself in your shoulder once more to avoid your gaze, “I just wish I saw what you saw,” he confesses somberly.

You ponder for a moment, trying to find the right words, “I guess it’s like the sun, baby. The sun is perhaps one of the prettiest things this planet has had the privilege to witness, and it fills our bleak little planet with so much love and life.”

He hums at your words, taking them in before responding, “I think it sucks being the sun sometimes.”

“Hm, why do you say that?”

“The sun can’t see itself,” he thinks aloud, “but I guess at least it gets to see the world around it,” he releases you from his hold, laying once more on his back while looking above, “Like you, like the beauty it has to offer.”

#cinnamostar writes #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz felix #skz felix x reader #skz x you #stray kids felix #stray kids felix x reader #stray kids x you #lee felix

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joaniscruzing · 16 days ago

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sailor song - part 1 - e.w.

I am so glad to be writing a series again you guys! Heads up though, I am in school now, so I do need to focus on my studies, which means I can't crank out chapters once a day like I used to!

Y'all. I love Jackson Ellie. I legit have a Halloween costume of this on standby.

Summary: Mostly exposition, reader meets Ellie after a lot of staring from afar.

Warnings: Talks of religion

A/N: I'm trying to set this on after the events of TLOU II. In my head, I always feel like Ellie went back to Jackson and tried to start over and forget everything. I feel like she'd try to better herself, especially after literally losing everything. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

In Jackson, you normally went on about your day. You would wake up, pray, have the occasional outing, go on patrol, and then go back to your abode, where you would sleep. You always noticed Ellie though. Her presence, full of light, darkening as time passed, always penetrated your carelessness towards any outside happenings–or people.

You liked how Ellie carried herself, confident, and taking no shit from nobody. However, you also knew of Ellie’s sexuality, which, in your books, was a sin. While you would typically disregard sinners, there was just something about Ellie that drew you in. You didn’t know if it was the two pools of green mystery that were her eyes, or her low, but enchanting voice. Sometimes you would look from afar, watching her laugh as she smoked her joint and coughed, wondering if you and her would ever cross paths in the future. You presumed that she was too cool for you, too rebellious. In fact, you thought that in a normal world, she’d be a celebrity, as famous as Anne Hathaway, an actress from a movie you had loved watching during the movie nights in Jackson as a little kid, The Princess Diaries.

You didn’t know why you were religious, you supposed that it was a way for you to make some sense of the situation around you. After all, you could sum up this apocalypse as just part of God’s plan; and you wouldn’t have to overthink about the issues that came from it and the harshness of the situation. That aside, you wore the cross necklace you found one day while exploring some abandoned building out of boredom proudly and constantly. You read your bible every night, in hopes that maybe it would help you understand your circumstances, and in hopes that there would be a heaven for you to go to in the future.

One day though, after a rather sleepless night, you found yourself heading into town for coffee, looking rather disheveled. You were so tired, in fact, that you didn’t realize that your coffee was sloshing all around in its cup, and getting all over you.

“Hey!” Ellie called, running behind you.

“Huh?” you replied wearily, snapping out of it immediately when you realized who it was. Crap. It’s Ellie Williams.

“Hey, uh, you seem like you shouldn’t be running back to your house with burning hot coffee. Why don’t you come over here for a bit and drink it?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that the coffee had gotten all over me. Please excuse my appearance,” you reply embarrassedly, “I’m fine though, thank you for the offer.”

“Then I’ll go with you to your house then.”

“Okay, didn’t realize you’re into stalking.”

“I’m into a lot more than just stalking”

Your cheeks burn like hot coals. “I suppose I can drink some coffee with you.”

“Alright then. Should we go back to your house?”

“No, no, we can drink some coffee at that table over there.”

“Are you hiding something?” You look her in the eyes. You sense a twinge of skeptical energy coming from her, which, per the rumors you heard, was never a good sign.

“No! My house just isn’t clean right now.”

With that, you and Ellie sit down and you drink your coffee.

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“Oh fuck no, I’ve always hated coffee.”

#wlw #lesbian #fanfic #fluff #pride #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #angst #sailor song #gigi perez

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cinnaminsvga · 8 months ago

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Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

#my wips #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #i gotta stop making jimin a gremlin in these LMAOOO #at the very least he isnt insane in his installment of this series #idk who i should write for next... maybe hoseok? its been a while since ive written for him (or written anything at all lol)#i need to stop making hoseok evil... new year new me #OK ANYWAY i'll post the entire thing soon-ish... yippeeeee

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ringsreforged · 2 months ago

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Natalie's *deep* Haladriel thoughts - BEWARE

Pau - When you read this later, let me know if you want me to move it to my personal account, yeah? If it even still exists...

I’m not really sure what this post is going to end up being. A defence of the show and the separation? In part! A critique of the show based off leak spoilers and my own gut feeling? For sure! A desperate ramble in an attempt to get my head in order? Absolutely!

I will say before we dive in that I’m absolutely a Haladriel shipper, but the way I ship isn’t always in line with fandom. I ship what I see as part of the narrative because it’s the narrative, and everything else is a bonus. I make this distinction because I think this is why I’m so okay with a lack of scenes when some others are not, and I don’t want to come across preachy. I don't think I'm in any way superior for this by the way. In fact, I wish I could be more *normal*!!!!

If you came to this show for Haladriel alone, and simply want to see them share scenes week to week – that’s your prerogative. I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t feel that way. What I might try to say is that I don’t think that makes the shows bad or suggests that the writers have baited with this relationship. I think that’s ultimately what I find frustrating…

But anyway, let’s get into whatever this is. A reflection on expectations, a five-season arc, and those STUPID spoiler leaks…

AND THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. STAY AWAY. HISS.

Alright, so this post is mostly brought to you by a sinking feeling I have that the leak spoilers are real. Because everything in that episode 7 promo matches up.

STOP READING if you don’t want to know the spoilers. And honestly? STOP READING IF YOU THINK YOU WANT TO KNOW because living with this knowledge has truly made this season less enjoyable for me (credit to it, then, because I still think it’s incredible). IF I’M MAKING YOU PANIC, STILL STOP READING because there very much is a world where these spoilers aren’t that bad in context…but I prefer to keep my expectations low…

Have you gone???

HAVE YOU GONE?????

SPOILER TALK

Okay.

So, the leak spoilers say that there is no kiss between Sauron and Galadriel (which, honestly, I have no great issue with – more to come on that later). Instead, the kiss is ELROND AND GALADRIEL, and I absolutely do take issue with this.

I can only hope and PRAY that it works in context, but I can’t get my head around it. And yet, the promo…it’s all falling into place. Elrond will be sent to discuss terms with the orcs before the battle. He’ll see Galadriel in chains, and he’ll ask for a moment to say goodbye. Adar will allow it because he’s a gent like that. This is where we get the chin touch with the thumb everyone speculated over and then…HE LEANS IN AND KISSES HER TO PUT A NEEDLE IN HER MOUTH? SO SHE CAN RELEASE HERSELF LATER??

To clarify, most of this is my spec, but THE KISS TO PASS HER A NEEDLE IS A REAL LEAKED SPOILER THAT NO LONGER SEEMS FAKE.

It's just…so convoluted and weird??? Does he store needles in his mouth like a squirrel? Why couldn’t he have slipped the needle into her hand??? WHY ARE YOU PUTTING ELROND’S LIPS ON GALADRIEL’S?

And look, maybe this spoiler IS still fake! But the details were so specific, and everything about the context seems to be accurate, so that feels like it would be a bonkers coincidence to me. Maybe when we actually see it play out, it will be fine.

But that does bring me back to the Haladriel of it all, just briefly. With my whole heart, I do not need them to kiss. After season 1, I didn’t think it would be possible, and I’m okay with that. But if you’re willing to let ELROND’S lips touch her, then MY GOD, you could have let Haladriel have ONE kiss where she’s trying to distract him or some shit. OOF.

My only relief is that it happens next week, so we can hopefully get it out of our systems and enjoy the finale.

That said, if these leaks are true then that also means the finale leaks are true. Now, I actually never wanted to see any of these spoilers (hence me making it VERY CLEAR what this post is about, because I wouldn’t inflict this stress on anyone unwillingly), so once I got the Elrond kiss details, I tried to get away without seeing much else. But there was some information on the big Haladriel scene.

I’m actually not going to detail it here, because – overall – I think we’ll still super enjoy it (just…lower those kiss expectations) AND because I don’t think all of it was spoiled. At the end of the day, there will be plenty to unpack, they’ll be back on our screens, it will be meaty, it will be layered. I’m really looking forward to it, in general.

My one fear is that it’s a season 1 finale repeat. And again, that won’t necessarily be bad per se, but it will feel a little bit underwhelming. Now, I’m not somebody that wants a true corruption arc for Galadriel. Normally, I love that shit, but not in this IP and not with this character. I want to see her explore her darkness, I want to see her face it and accept it, and I certainly want to see her be tempted…but I don’t expect or believe we'll ever actually get the whole ‘dark queen of Mordor’ vibe. Prisoner? Maybe. But not an actual dark queen.

That said…surely this scene doesn’t play out the EXACT same way as season 1? Sauron shows her a vision, she’s tempted, but ultimately resists and tells him she’ll never be at his side. I just don’t get why we’d repeat that, when there are so many other options that still keep Gal on the side of light.

I keep coming back to Galadriel’s line to Elrond in episode 4 – when it comes down to it, he has to choose to defeat Sauron and sacrifice her. I feel like if I hadn’t seen the leaks, then I would be 1000% expecting this to be the outcome. Especially with how Elrond’s theme comes in at the end of The Last Temptation track. He comes upon the confrontation but chooses to do the thing that will harm Sauron in the long run, rather than the thing that will save Galadriel.

I hope so badly for this, but I do worry that it will go the other way. What if it parallels Gandalfanger’s destiny/friend choice, and Elrond chooses her because THAT is how light wins or some shit? Not that this will be a bad scene by any stretch – I love their relationship and want to see their FRIENDSHIP (grrrr) reforged…but, again, the S1 finale! Sauron left her in the water, and Elrond was there to save her.

There’s also Galadriel’s conversation with Adar in the most recent episode – you succumbed, I resisted – but I guess this could go either way? He succumbed, so she resists. She insists she’s able to resist, so she succumbs. URGH. MY HEAD.

There MUST be a difference. SURELY??? Like, this season has been so well written…I just can’t comprehend the copy and paste.

Again, this isn’t anything close to a deal breaker for me. I firmly believe the showrunners when they say this relationship will remain the core of the show, but…hmmm. Okay, on that note…

DAMAGE CONTROL – MOVING ONTO THE DEFENCE OF THE SHOW

So, this is where I want to get into some stuff that I just…don’t agree with that I’ve seen being thrown at the show by shippers. And I’ll reiterate here that I’m truly not telling anybody what to feel. You can hate the show for its choices and feel how you feel. You can express yourself in your social media spaces, and if anybody doesn’t like it they can mute/block/unfollow. This chunk isn’t really aimed at you guys.

This is more for other people like me, because I’m cursed to be somebody that generally wants to just…enjoy things for what they are, while also being susceptible to the mood of others. I want to scroll tags and have a good time, rather than see negativity because it lowers my mood (this isn’t just ship related by the way, I really love this show overall…it’s just this tag that has been impacting my mood most this season). Regardless of the nonsense that might be in episode 7, and even if the finale scene is a repeat of S1, I’m still going to want to focus on enjoying what we get, enjoying the narrative being told etc. So, for those of you that have a little sinking feeling in your gut after the first half of this post, hopefully this second half will help.

This isn’t a ‘typical’ ship. This is a true ENEMIES ARE ENEMIES dynamic where the bad boy is ultimately going to be (is already) pure evil, and where our heroine is the embodiment of light. There are certain things that we just have to accept when it comes to loving this dynamic as part of the show – there will never be another season like season 1. Nor should there be?

Do I wish for s3 to have them in close proximity for at least a few episodes? Of course! Do I think it’s possible with or without finale spoilers? Absolutely (given how quickly characters travel from place to place on this show, they could end the season at opposite ends of Middle Earth and this would still be on the cards…). I’m also anticipating Season 4 as a good time for them to be in full MIND PALACE mode – where the rings are all ringing, but Galadriel hasn’t yet worked out how to shut him out yet. By season 5, there might just be one final scene before the final battle. But, again, I really do think there needs to be a little bit of acceptance of that. Or, at least, expectation of it.

Something I really want to push back against is this idea that Haladriel was baited or teased, but the writers don’t actually care for it. Honestly, that’s nonsense to me on a couple of levels.

First of all, almost EVERY dynamic this season has been reduced to a handful of scenes here and there. The most consistent relationships have probably been Annatar and Celebrimbor, and Durin+Durin+Disa (off the top of my head). Elrond and Durin (probably the other most popular dynamic of S1) have been apart all season, Elrond and Galadriel have too. Isildur popped up to say hello and we might not see him again.

When you actually stop and look at this season…Sauron and Galadriel had to be separated. She could not be anywhere near him while he’s working Celebrimbor, and there’s no world in which they were ever going to change that narrative. And yet, the Sauron and Galadriel dynamic has been consistent across the season. With Galadriel predominantly (and depending on how the finale goes, I may have thoughts on this), but it has also been easier with her because people have talked with her openly about Sauron. It’s been harder on his side, but the fact that Mirdania seems to have been cast to look like Galadriel honestly – right now – feels like it was done with the express purpose of giving Sauron a Galadriel reference.

Again, I’m not saying you have to like the lack of scenes, but it’s not bad writing to respect the overarching narrative of an ensemble show. Galadriel’s season has been all about him, and we’ve had countless insights to make that clear – building up to their final confrontation. If Sauron was running around mentioning Galadriel every five seconds with Celebrimbor or with the dwarves, it would be horrendously out of character.

This next comment is…somewhat dependent on the finale…but as somebody that loves Elendil and Miriel, everything in Numenor has been somewhat crammed in. I would firmly argue that the Galadriel/Sauron dynamic across this season has been treated with care and reverence, all building to a climax designed as the high point of the season. Will we be 100% satisfied? Who can say! But it IS what the season is building to.

I think this brings me around to a particular gripe I have, and maybe the people that believe this came to the show after S1 had fully aired or something…but there’s this idea floating around that the showrunners don’t like this dynamic and are just giving it crumbs to bait people into watching. This makes me want to scream.

These showrunners literally took a few lines about Galadriel being tempted by Sauron and PITCHED THE ENTIRE SHOW OFF OF THAT. The Tolkien estate wasn’t only pitched by Amazon BUT CHOSE THIS PITCH OVER ANYTHING ELSE. Season 1 was written pretty much like a prologue centred around GALADRIEL AND SAURON HAVING A PERSONAL CONNECTION WITH ROMANTIC UNDERTONES…and guess what?

They wrote all that…they filmed ALL THAT…before knowing anything about the audience reaction! That was ALL the showrunners, the writers, the directors, the actors. They ARE the narrative. They are not bait.

Does that mean the fundamentals of their dynamic will always please you, individually? No, of course not. Some people want outright romance, some people want soft Sauron, some people want Dark Galadriel. Will they kiss? I doubt it. Do I wish they would? Sure! Will they be separated again next season? Probably! Will I also wish that they could at least be stuck together for a run of episodes again? Absolutely!

But the idea that any of this is bait, or unimportant to the show drives me a little bit bonkers.

I guess my personal feeling of frustration comes from the fact that I feel so lucky they are exploring this show from the perspective of this dynamic, regardless of specific details/scenes. I’d bet my house (I don’t own a house) that every other pitch hinged on Elendil or Isildur as the protagonists of the show. Now, I love those dudes, but just IMAGINE? The fact that we’re on this path at all is still WILD to me.

ANYWAY, this is what happens when Paulina goes on holiday and I have nobody to ramble too. Sorry for the explosion, but I’ve been dreading the stupid kiss spoiler since I stumbled on it after EPISODE BLOODY 3 and so I needed to vent somewhere.

TL;DR: You are welcome to feel the way you feel, and if you hate everything you go right ahead, but maybe this makes sense to somebody. IDK. IDK.

#rings of power #the rings of power #sauron #galadriel #halbrand #saurondriel #rings of power podcast #trop #haladriel #lotr rings of power #morfydd clark #charlie vickers

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just-jordie-things · 11 months ago

Text

[part three] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 7k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence mentioned, shibuya arc mentions summary: just when she thinks she's got her feelings all sorted out, the shibuya incident has to go and fuck it all up. contents: friends to lovers, gojo!reader, your favorite sappy scene where a finds b injured and loses their mind <3 we skimmed over key points in the arc bc i just couldn't do it folks

part three: "god, don't let me lose my mind" ___

As it turns out, the deeper something is buried the scarier it is when it comes back up, and it was a terrifying sight to have every hidden ounce of her affections thrown back at her face- or more accurately, shoved up her throat.

The Shibuya Incident changed everything.

She’d assumed she’d follow Nanami and his small team that consisted of a first year, Fushiguro Megumi, and then of course Ino. However, when she arrived on the scene, Ijichi had instructed that she was to find Zen’in Naobito and the students under his supervision, Kugisaki Nobara and Maki.

“I don’t understand,” She shook her head at the manager beckoned for him to show her the electronic paperwork with the order. “Nanami’s mentoring me for Grade One, why would I be sent away?”

Ijici anxiously glanced between her and the team of three who also seemed confused by the sudden change in development.

“I- I’m so sorry, Gojo-san,” He stammered. He never did like making people upset with the orders handed to him, most days he was merely a messenger, however when it came to the Gojos specifically, this was his worst nightmare. “Here, it’s all here, I- I don’t know why they’d separate you, perhaps more foot traffic? Uh, the station is quite overpopulated and there’s, um, only a few people scouting the perimeter”

As he holds out his device she swipes it up gingerly, eyes scanning through the order from the higher ups with great speed. Ijichi gulped down the lump in his throat, praying she wouldn’t break the phone with her iron group.

“It’s alright, (y/n),” Nanami came to the manager’s rescue. “We’ll be fine, the three of us. You should go with them”

She passed the phone back to Ijichi with a small nod of gratitude for his help, and he was quick to disappear, likely off to report back to Nitta.

“They’ve still got me,” Ino grinned from ear to ear, before throwing his arm up against Megumi’s shoulder. The boy gave him a bored look before shrugging him off.

(y/n) gives him a look that tells him her concern didn’t lie in their ability to handle the situation in the slightest. The greatest concern right now was that everyone’s cell phones were out of service due to the veil over the area, which effectively cut off all communication between the divided teams. The idea of splitting off from the two of them- and Megumi- unsettled her.

Since she’d arrived on the scene shortly after her brother, there had been a twist of unease in her gut. Like something was terribly wrong. Or something terrible was bound to happen.

“Unless you’re saying you can’t handle it!” Ino tries to lighten the tension currently laying itself on thick the longer she stands before them, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

If Nanami told her to go with them, she would.

Ino steps forward as Nanami turns to go over their orders with Megumi again, giving his pupils some semblance of privacy in the hopes of convincing (y/n) to follow the order handed to her. If she went against what was asked of her, he wouldn’t be able to cover for her if any casualties- property damage or lives- occurred.

If either one of them asked her to stay with them, she would.

She doesn’t react to Ino’s statement, which sends up warning flags in his head, knowing that usually she’d quip back something snarky about how she could handle this entire assignment by herself and blindfolded.

“This isn’t normal,” She tells him quietly once he’s close enough and she thinks Megumi won’t be able to eavesdrop. She doesn’t want to alarm him, but this gut feeling of hers was starting to eat her up. “They’ve never split us like this before. Something isn’t right”

Ino believes her, already having his suspicions that something was off when he’d arrived with Nanami, but even if he didn’t trust her judgment, he could see the apprehension clearly in her eyes, and that was reason enough for him to understand.

“I know,” He agrees quietly, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure Megumi and Nanami were still occupied. “But it’ll be fine, right?” He tells her hopefully, but the expression on her face doesn’t budge. She stares at him expectantly, silently begging him to say what she needed him to in order for her to stay. “We can handle it. It’ll probably only be a few hours anyways” Instead, he continues to try and talk her down from her worried ledge, unknowingly only pushing her further onto it.

Her jaw clenches as she bites down on her own teeth in order to keep herself from blowing up and saying something reckless.

She lets out a sigh to calm herself down before speaking.

“A lot can happen in a few hours”

Her eyes shift between his in a rapid movement, trying to convey everything in silence that she couldn’t say out loud. She’s not sure if it works, but for a brief moment, a flash of disturbance flickers over Ino’s face, like maybe in that second he was able to understand what she wasn’t saying. Just as quickly as she’d caught it, it was disappearing, and he was smiling again.

“Like two Grade One promotions, yeah?” He asks, holding his hand out to her.

That cracks the smallest of smiles out of her, easing her nerves for just a minute as she realized tonight could be the last thing she needed before finally getting her promotion. So she takes his hand and shakes it roughly with her enthusiasm. Ino chuckles to himself, about to pull away with his parting words of wishing her luck, but her fingers tighten around the curve of his hand and she doesn’t let him part from her just yet.

He’s confused when she stares up at him with a grave realness in her eyes, mixing with some other emotion he’s not sure he’s ever seen in them before. His features soften with his surprise, but before he could ask her what’s keeping her, she’s whispering a threat under her breath.

“Don’t do anything stupid”

It’s cold and harsh, just like how she used to treat him before shared assignments. But Ino knows better now. He understands the look of pure fear in her eyes as she mutters out the words like poison. And despite the way she’s almost frowning at him, he smiles brightly as he squeezes her hand back with the same fervor.

“I know,” He says, almost cheekily. She wants to be annoyed. Maybe even shake him by the collar and tell him she’ll kill him if anything happens to him. But she can only stand and stare at him with a slight gape of her mouth. “I promised,” He shrugs one of his shoulders like his words alone were enough to shield him from harm. “Can’t go back on my word”

And then their grip on each other is loosening, before their hands fall away altogether, and (y/n) has to swallow the lump in her throat before addressing Nanami and Megumi.

“Report back when you can, okay?” She asks, her weapon of choice already materializing in her hand.

“We’ll see you soon,” Nanami nods his head in acknowledgement. “Don’t let that old man boss you around. You can run circles around him” He adds with a hint of a smile on his face.

She nods back at him, already starting to grin from the adrenaline of rushing off into an unknown battle. Her eyes catch Ino’s once more, and he throws up a peace sign with his fingers, tapping his forehead with them to give her half a salute.

“See you soon, partner” ___

The gut feeling had subsided while she worked side by side with Maki and Nobara, paying as little attention to the head of the Zen’in Clan as she could. For a little while, she almost considered taking a path of teaching as she aided the girls in their attacks, although they barely needed assistance, they were more than capable of defending themselves.

But it wasn’t long before they were split up, and (y/n) took the first opportunity she could to get back to her group. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, and she tried not to worry about it as she followed Nobara and Nitta to where they presumed Nanami was. Still, her heart was pounding against her ribcage with every step she took into the station.

It wasn’t professional of her, but when she found Nanami and Itadori Yuuji, her heart leapt to her throat and was speaking for her without hesitation.

“Where’s Ino?”

Itadori was excitedly asking his mentor if the woman standing before them now was his sensei’s sister, even going so far as to tug on the man’s sleeve and beg him to introduce him properly. On another day (y/n) might have been a little flattered, but right now she nearly tunes it out completely as she awaits Nanami’s answer.

“Ran into some curse users that came crawling out of the woodwork… listen, (y/n)-”

“Where is that?” She cuts him off before he could explain further, and it’s obvious the way her entire body tenses with her impatience.

Nanami frowns, not knowing how to approach the situation calmly, but there was no time to sit down and slowly walk her through it.

“Satoru has been sealed,”

She blinks, the words barely processing at all. Maybe because it wasn’t what she was expecting, or maybe because they didn’t make a lick of sense. Either way, she stands frozen and rigid before them all, not speaking a word.

“The patchwork curse is operating with something far worse that we weren’t expecting. They had access to the prison realm. Your brother is currently inside of it. We have reason to believe that Kenjaku is playing a role and-”

“It’s Suguru, isn’t it?”

His name burns in her throat as if it was cursed so heavily just speaking it sent a poison down through her bloodstream.

Nanami’s lack of an answer tells her more than she needs to know. The information tries to take over her mind, tries to nestle itself in as a proper distraction from what her next steps were going to be.

She casts it aside completely.

“My brother is stronger than the prison realm,”

Her voice is strong, and certain. Even with the small group looking at her apprehensively, (y/n’s) positive that there’s no prison on this earth stronger than Gojo Satoru. Her faith in him as a sorcerer, and as her brother, went unmatched. He would only be offended if she worried about him right now. Using Geto Suguru was a filthy trick, however, and he- his body- would have to be dealt with accordingly.

But right now, there was a more pressing stressor she needed answers for.

“Now tell me where Ino is” ___

When she arrived on the rooftop Nanami had directed her towards, her first thought was that she had the wrong one. Her chest is heaving by the time she’s bursting through the access door, the plank of wood nearly flying off it’s hinges from her force.

She hesitates for a moment, seeing there wasn’t a fight of any sorts taking place. Nanami had said there were two curse users, and at first survey, the roof is completely empty.

Save for the slumped over figure left crumpled on the ground, barely propping themselves up with one arm against a box vent. She almost doesn’t catch him there, her instinct telling her it couldn’t possibly have been Ino himself. No, it had to have been someone else-

But then her eyes catch the small but distinct shape of a black mask on the ground not far from him, and she’s darting forward with a screech of pure terror.

“Ino!?”

His name rips from her throat so harshly a neighboring crow squawks and flies away from the startling noise.

It doesn’t take many steps to bring her towards his beaten form, but she’s sprinting the short distance anyways, dropping to her knees without any grace, scraping them up on the concrete upon impact, but the sting goes unnoticed.

She’s panting harder, the wind getting knocked out of her a second time when she properly takes in his face. It’s so covered in blood she can’t even make out where it’s coming from. As her hands slide under his jaw to lift his head, praying to any deity that will listen that it isn’t his head that’s injured, she realizes then that her eyes are filling with tears and blurring her vision.

“I- Ino,” And her voice is strained too, coming out in a choked whimper, not nearly loud enough for him to hear her if he’s unconscious. “God, no no no- fuck- fuck!”

Her mumbles turn into shouts as she drops one hand from his face to pat against his chest. She doesn’t want to be rough with him, but if he doesn’t give her some sign of life soon she was going to smack the back of her hand against his face to spur something out of him.

If she lost him now, like this, then every curse and curse user in this damn city was going to pay the gruesome, ultimate price.

He stirs with the slightest of movements, a small groan coming from his chest which she feels against her hand more than she actually hears. A gasp of surprise comes out of her, before she’s pressing closer to him, her palm flat against his front, and her other hand secure in holding his head up towards her.

“You can hear me?” She mumbles with more hope than what feels right.

“Uh-huh”

It’s pitifully quiet, but it’s a distinct answer, and it evokes a sob out of her so emotionally relieving she drops her head, barely hitting his shoulder as tears of every stage of grief pour out of her. Fear. Relief. It all hits her at once.

Ino can barely register the fact that she’s sitting before him now, pressed as close as she could get with her sobs soaking into his shoulder. But he musters all the strength he can to assure her he was still alive.

“(y/n),” Another pained mutter has her lifting her head, roughly wiping at her face with the back of her hand before leaning in close to hear him. “The curse users- th-ey h-had-”

When he starts to cough up blood between his words, she hushes him, both hands gently held under his jaw again. He hisses slightly from the touch, but doesn’t pull away from it.

She’s mumbling something, but his head is pounding too hard to make out what, and his vision is too blurry to try and read her lips. With the smallest tip of his head, he’s leaning back into the box vent with a shaky exhale.

Even with his eyes closed, the faint blue glow penetrates his eyelids, and he’s trying to gather all the strength he can to lift his head and look at her again. Although he has a sneaking suspicion of what she’s doing.

The blue light brightens, and he can just barely hear her faint mumbling, whispers sounding suspiciously like begs and pleas, before something warm and solid touches his forehead.

It takes him a minute, but eventually, he’s able to crack one eye open just enough to see what’s happening.

Her hands, still held against his jaw with trembling fingers, are glowing with cursed energy. The warmth against his forehead was that of her own, pressed close and having her so much closer that the tip of her nose ghosts over his. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, but there’s simply too many tears to be held back, and they fall down her face in steady streams, slipping into the corners of her mouth as she continues to slur through mumbles.

“Just this once… work just this once… never ask for anything again… never need anything more… concentrate… concentrate….” Ino can just barely make out the nonsensical string of pleas tumbling out of her lips, but it’s more than he understood before. “...has to work… have to help him… think… think… relax…”

Hearing the pain in her voice makes something in his chest lurch more than when an overpowered foot nearly cracked open his ribcage just moments ago- or was it hours? He longed to bring her some semblance of comfort, but he was too tired to move his arms, and when he tried to say something, his throat was too dry to make any sound.

The most he’s capable of, is the slight tilt in his head, pressing the crown of his head back against hers with the smallest amount of force.

It does the trick, (y/n’s) mumbling halting with a quiet gasp, her eyes fluttering open and staring wide at him, tracking any miniscule movement of his features.

He’s struggling even to keep one eye cracked open, the bruising surrounding it stinging that much more just from opening it, but he wants so badly to give her some comfort of his well-being. Even if the next breath he takes is his last.

“Ino,” She whispers, her voice heavy with emotion. “You’re gonna be alright, I’m- I’m gonna-”

Before she can finish, there’s a short shift in his neck, barely shaking his head against hers. She swallows thickly, trying to keep down the lump in her throat.

“I am, I’m gonna make it better, I’m- I’m-”

“s’Okay,” He rasps out. “Go, (y/n)”

“No!” She’s louder than she means to be, and she apologizes by pushing a loose strand of his hair out of the sticky blood on his forehead, soothingly pushing her fingers through the length of his hair to keep it from irritating his face again. She repeats the motion a few more times anxiously, and her head begins to shake against his. “No- no. I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere”

He could almost laugh, recalling being in opposite positions almost a year ago. If he had the strength, he’d remind her that she’d begged the same thing of him once, ordering him to leave as if she had any sort of authority over him.

Now Ino feared she had too much authority. He couldn’t bear to have her here if the beat of his heart kept steadily declining.

A faint sound that almost resembled a chuckle is pushed past his lips in a short breath, warm and soft as the air hits her chin.

(y/n’s) brows furrow with her confusion as she continues to push her fingers through the length of his hair. From the top of his head to the ends at the nape of his neck, she repeats it over and over, almost obsessively. She distantly recalls Satoru doing the same for her when she was younger and would have panic attacks, and it was the first thing that would calm her down. Pathetically, she hopes it’s healing power also works for physical wounds.

“s’Okay, (y/n),” Ino repeats himself, his head suddenly feeling too heavy to hold up on his own. He barely feels his nose pressing against hers before a gentle pair of hands pull him forward, guiding him to lean against something solid, and soft. His eyes were shut again as he gave into the white hot pain from every second he tried to keep them open.

Her shoulder, she’s cradling his head against his shoulder, it registers in the back of his mind as he recognizes the scent of her perfume in the fabric he was laying against, and ruining with his blood.

“m’Sorry ‘bout breaking th’ promise” He slurs into the material.

“Don’t say that,” (y/n) scolds, but her voice is weak, and she sounds far more afraid than she does angry. “Please- please don’t say that,” She repeats in an even quieter, shakier voice.

With one hand against the nape of his neck, holding him solidly against her as his body hunches forward uncomfortably, her other hand begins to move in his hair again.

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Her words were whispered in his ear, so she was certain he couldn’t miss a single thing. “We promised, didn’t we?” She asked again. “And I- I made good on my promise, didn’t I? Didn’t I do everything you asked?” Her tears are soaking into his hair now, but she doesn’t feel an ounce of shame as she begs him to find the strength to snap out of it and wake up properly. “I let- I let myself let you in, I really, really did,”

Her eyes fall shut in a pitiful attempt at willing her tears to stop. She doesn’t want to burden him with her fear of losing him, but the emotions crashing over her were too strong for her to take on alone. Unbeknownst to her, her hands were surrounded by her cursed energy again as they kept him close.

“And now- now you’re too close to me, Ino. And I can’t- I- I can’t-” She chokes on the words, burying her face into the crook of his neck, earning a small grunt of pained acknowledgement when her nose brushes a particularly nasty bruise. “I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you”

The hand at his nape grabs the material of the back of his uniform, fisting it so tight her knuckles trembled and ached.

The relief suddenly washing over Ino’s body was so strong that all of his muscles were relaxing at once, and he felt boneless in her hold.

(y/n) was quick to snap her eyes open and pull herself away from him, shaky, fast hands racing to check his pulse as her worst nightmare played before her eyes.

But he wasn’t lifeless in her arms, and if anything, he was relaxed. His pulse was a steady beat against the pads of her fingers, and he even found enough strength to raise his hand to her cheek. She watched with wide, shocked eyes as he barely grazed his fingers across her jaw before he was passing out in her arms.

___

When he comes to, his eyes blink a few times to prepare himself for light, but to his surprise, he’s met with darkness. It still takes a few rough squeezes of his eyelids before Ino’s able to properly open his eyes all the way, and the darkness he was greeted with was properly laid before him as the night sky.

He was outside?

“What the-?” The mutter comes from under his breath, but before he could make sense of his surroundings, someone was scrambling to his side, his name falling from their recognizable, pretty voice like a mantra.

And (y/n’s) voice in that moment was heavenly to his ears. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, and his mind was foggy when he tried to recall when he’d seen her last, but he had a sinking feeling like it had been a long time, and all he knew now was that he felt pure relief when her face came into view beside him. Then shortly after, a small hand slipped into his own, squeezing firmly, but not too tight.

“(y/n),” His throat burns hot when he speaks, but he tries to ignore it as he gives her a weak smile. Everything aches, but he’d try his best to keep his pain hidden. “How long was I out?”

“About a day” She murmurs back, softer than he thinks he’s ever heard her speak. He thinks she’s hiding something, but he doesn’t press for it right away. He’d need to get his bearings first.

He tries to look around, hoping for something of significance to give him an idea of where he was, but all that surrounds them is a few plots of grass and some shoddy tents pitched up. There’s a fire burning a few feet behind where she kneels beside him, and his brows furrowed slightly. What the hell was going on?

“And where are we?”

Her free hand reaches for his face, and he holds his breath when the tips of her fingers gently push a piece of hair away from a line of stitches just above his previous scar. There’s a small frown on her face.

“Just outside Yamanashi,” She answers, then quickly adds, “At least I think. It’s hard to tell without a proper map”

Ino’s eyes widen so much they almost bulge out of his head, and (y/n’s) quick to react to his shock.

“Don’t freak out,” She murmurs, squeezing his hand gently as she leaned over closer to him. “You still need to rest, you have a lot of healing to-”

“(y/n),” He interrupts her, and surprisingly she lets him. She sits before him patiently waiting for the question she’d been dreading for an entire day. “What happened in Shibuya?”

She sits beside him for a long time as she explains the entire incident in grave detail. Not a single stone left unturned, Ino sits in silence for almost a full hour as she feeds it to him like it was her drafted report on the assignment.

She explains that after she fled Shibuya with his unconscious body, they quickly ran into Megumi Yuuji, and the new ally they’d made out of one of the Cursed Wombs’. Yuuji was quick to carry Ino on his back as they tried to cover as much ground as possible. With Shibuya becoming a modern-day wasteland, and Kenjaku’s next move unsure, their only goal was to move.

And that’s what brought them here, to the middle of nowhere where they could figure out what their next move was. With only a few survival supplies and limited rations of food and water, it hadn’t been an easy day and a half.

When she’s finished, she remains silent for as long as he needs. Processing it all- Nanami, Satoru, the first year Nobara, all of Shibuya- would surely take him some time. (y/n) gets up and pokes at the fire for a few minutes while Ino sits in shock as he repeats it all in his head. When she comes back over to him, he’s pushed himself to sit up on top of the nylon blanket against the grass.

“You should really lie down and-”

“I’m alright” He mumbles over her concern, and she simply sits beside him on the wrinkly plastic disguised as a blanket. She doesn’t push him about it again.

Not knowing what to say, she doesn’t say anything. Just sits beside him to keep him company while he processes it all. Truthfully, she’d had little time to really let it all settle in. With the running and worrying over the length of his unconscious state, there was little time left to think about the aftermath of the whole incident. She wondered how the others were taking it, if they’d stopped and let themselves think for longer than a minute. They’d all resigned to their makeshift tents for the night, and she didn’t have it in her to play caretaker and check on them at the moment. That was always the role Satoru took on. But tomorrow she’d sit down with them and check in.

“You found me,”

Ino speaks after a long silence, and (y/n) glances over at him for a brief moment, before returning to stare at the ground.

“After those curse users, after Toji,” He continues, piecing together the vague images in his memory to better understand what happened. “You found me after that”

He’s not asking, he’s talking through what he remembers, but (y/n) nods in confirmation.

“Nanami told me where you were,” She says softly. “I came as fast as I could, but… it wasn’t fast enough” The last part comes out under her breath, full of regret and guilt.

“Seems like you were just in time to me,” Ino says, turning to look at her. She refuses to meet his gaze, too ashamed by her delayed arrival. “For a minute there I didn’t think I’d see you again. Thought I was a goner. You’d be adding my name to the…” He trails off, not quite wanting to address the long list of lives lost in Shibuya.

And he notices she tenses up, one of her hands fisting a handful of grass, ripping a few strands straight from the dirt with her tight grip. Ino frowns, and shuffles over to sit closer to her. Until they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. He groans as he pulls his legs up, resting his arms over his knees to get more comfortable. Everything feels stiff, but he tries to push past it.

“You figured out the Reverse Cursed Technique, hm?” He asks, trying to change the subject. He gives her a small smile at the accomplishment, but she’s still not looking at him. “That’s pretty huge. You’re surely a functioning Grade One sorcerer now”

That’s when she finally turns her head to meet his gaze, finding nothing but fondness in his eyes as he smiles at her. He’s proud of her, she realizes, and she can’t believe that now of all times he’s trying to comfort her. Takuma Ino was too good for this world. And he was certainly too good for her.

“I don’t care” She mumbles, shaking her head back and forth as her eyes flicker over the healing cuts and bruises on his face. The few stitches he needed looked a bit gnarly as they’d been done in a rush from shaky hands. A frown tugs on her lips the longer she takes in his injuries.

“You should,” He tells her. “You worked for a long time for it. And you’ve earned it,”

She’s quiet for a moment as she takes in the statement. The injuries she’d sustained had healed by now, but her chest still hurt somehow.

Slowly, more and more of his memory comes back to him. He can remember the way she’d sobbed, pained wails that came from so deep within her he could hear it now in his memory. They could’ve easily been mistaken as the screams of a woman tortured, the way she’d cried out his name. He thinks he can recall her crying the entire time she tended to him.

“I’m sorry I scared you” He tells her suddenly, and her eyes widen in the slightest at the apology.

“Scared me,” She repeats in a small mumble, lips barely moving. “That doesn’t even begin to explain what you put me through,”

He frowns with his guilt, and he wants to remind her that he’d told her to leave. Although if she had, he might not have woken up again.

“You…” She trails off as she thinks twice about what she’s going to say. “You have no idea what you put me through,” She admits in a smaller voice.

Her eyes flicker between his as she watches him process the confession, before she continues.

“I don’t know what I… I don’t know how I did it, honestly. I’m not sure I could do it again,” She explains. “I just remember feeling so… hurt doesn’t even begin to explain it. I was terrified, Ino. I thought you were…” She shakes her head, a lump forming in her throat at the mere suggestion of what could have happened to him. “I was so scared” She mumbles weakly, her brows drawing together.

Hesitantly, Ino lowered his hand until it rested over hers. She loosened her grip on the grass, relaxing just the slightest amount from his touch. Her heart was still racing as she recalled the way he’d barely been able to move, or how he’d tried to apologize for breaking his promise to her. It was like there was an invisible, but iron grip on her throat, squeezing all of the air out of her lungs as she looked at him now.

“You’re my hero now, you know,” He murmurs, tilting his head a bit as a tiny smile stretches over his lips. “You saved my life”

Her hand twitches under his, and it shakes as she releases the grass in order to turn it over, slotting her fingers between his. She squeezes, hard, making sure that he would be enough to anchor her to reality.

“You saved mine, too” She whispers back, the burn in her throat evident in the strain in her voice. Against her will, her eyes gloss over with tears.

He gives her a sad smile, and squeezes her hand back.

“Don’t cry,” He pleads quietly, his body angling towards her as he reaches his free hand out to her face, palm hovering just over her cheek as he wipes away her single tear with the rough pad of his thumb. “Please,” He added softly as her eyes bore into his like she was trying to penetrate his skull and read his thoughts. “Don’t think I can handle hearin’ you cry anymore” He admits.

(y/n) let’s out a watery and humorless little chuckle, another tear falling to her cheek that he’s just as quick to dry away. She leans into the hovering warmth of his hand, pressing her cheek against it with only the thought of being comforted by him on her mind. Ino’s quick to spread his fingers across her cheek and jaw, unconsciously pulling her closer as he did.

“You remember that?” She mumbles, and he nods back at her.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” He tells her. “You scared me too, y’know”

Her brows furrow at him.

“I did?”

Ino nods.

“I didn’t like… being separated,” He admits slowly. “I know you were fine, hell, you were better off than I was, but… not knowing where you were or if you were safe was…” He clenches his draw, and (y/n) nods at him in understanding.

“I would’ve stayed,” She murmurs. “If you’d asked me to stay, I would’ve stayed”

Ino’s not sure if his heart was going to burst in his chest or sink to his gut. All he wants right now is to wrap her up in his arms as tight as he can and never let her out of his sight again.

“I know,” He whispers back, making her frown. “But I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t have been right. Your team needed you,”

Another tear makes it’s way down her cheek, but it doesn’t get far before he’s brushing it away like the others.

“I didn’t want to do anything to stand in the way of your promotion,” He says, and she frowns back at him. “It wouldn’t have been fair-”

“That doesn’t matter to me, not right now- maybe not at all,” She cuts him off before he could explain himself, and he looks shocked. Rightfully so, since meeting her he’s known that becoming a Grade One was the only thing that mattered to her. His lips part and his brows furrow, but he doesn’t know what to say, so she explains herself first. “Ino, I really thought I was going to lose you,” She tells him with a tight squeeze of his hand. “That promotion has been the farthest thing from my mind. What would it have mattered?” She shakes her head as she watches him, sniffling just a little before speaking again. “It would have meant nothing, if you weren’t there with me, too,”

Ino softened then, his thumb stalling from it’s gentle tracing of her cheekbone as he took in the sincerity of her words.

A year ago, she might’ve told him to eat shit if he’d something of the same sort to her. Six months ago she would’ve laughed it off and deflected like it was some kind of joke. Right now, he thinks his heart was going to fall right out of his chest and into her awaiting hands.

(y/n) shuffles anxiously the longer he sits in silence.

“Ino, say something” She mumbles, hoping he wouldn’t make her beg for some sort of reaction.

He chuckles, his thumb moving over her cheekbone once, then twice, before giving into temptation and curling his fingers around the back of her neck to pull her in closer.

Her eyes are shut before his lips slot themselves over hers, but despite leaning into the kiss there’s a small squeak of surprise that dies in the back of her throat when their lips touch. She kisses him back with as much fervor as she can while still being mindful of his injuries. She only hopes that he can feel the outpour of emotions with every kiss, the soft sensation of each one leaving a tingle on her lips.

Her hands reach out to lay at the base of his neck, her touch nearly featherlight with how gentle she tries to treat him. Ino’s less careful, pulling her closer until she finally gives in to deepening their kiss, paying no mind to the dull ache in his jaw. It was easy to forget when her perfect soft lips fit against his like they were made to be kissed by him.

After pulling away for a breath of air, he places one more kiss on her lips, lingering for as long as he could before finally parting from her. It takes her a minute to open her eyes, still reeling from the sudden affection.

With her heart in the clouds and her mind in a lovesick haze, she was still lost in the heavy feelings that were the way she felt about him. Ino chuckles when his eyes open only to find her lost in a daze, sweetly cupping her face in both hands and keeping her as close to him as he could.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, lips ghosting over hers, sending a shiver down her spine. She finally looks up at him, catching her lip between her teeth to keep herself from grinning too hard. “I just wanted to do that for so long. Couldn’t wait anymore”

A breathless little laugh falls from her, her hands sliding around the nape of his neck so her fingers could mindlessly play with the soft locks of hair that fell there. Her cheeks were undeniably warm, and Ino could feel them when she pushed closer to brush her nose against his sweetly.

“Wanted you to do that, too” She murmurs back, and the smile Ino gives her is bittersweet.

He sighs softly as he pulls her in gently, just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, the weight of the apology hanging thick in the air.

She doesn’t want to talk anymore about what’s happened, doesn’t really want to think about it either. Going through it had been rough enough already, processing it was going to be a bitch. She has to shut her eyes to hide the emotion, or at least, keep herself from crying again.

“I’m so sorry,” Ino repeats. “And I’m sorry I was out for so long”

“That’s nothing you should apologize over,” (y/n) chided through a breath. “I’m just relieved you’re alright, that’s all that matters to me right now, okay?”

He tilts his head away from hers, just enough to look back at her. He frowns when her eyes are squeezed shut, thumbing gently at the top of her cheekbones to pry her into looking at him again. It takes her a minute before opening teary eyes. Even with her packing up the last day and a half into a box and forcing it into the darkest corner of her mind, she couldn’t hide all of it from Ino. Not when he stared at her as if he could see straight through to the soul.

It’s a blurry memory, but he can vaguely recall the way she’d cried while holding him. Clearer than the image is the way her voice cracked and whined in his ear, I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you. He’d held his promise this long, and Ino very much intends to stick to it.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head, and the comforting affection surprises her a bit, but she just as quickly falls into him. Her arms loop around his neck and her fingers dig into his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as if he alone would keep her in this moment, and away from that dark corner.

“Still,” He insists quietly. “I should’ve been there for you,”

(y/n’s) not sure she’s ever felt love swell in her chest the way she does now. It washes over her in a heavy wave, filling her with relief, and warmth, but most importantly hope. For the first time, she doesn’t fear it, or discard it as a pointless venture.

Things were different now, she decided, her eyes moving between his and the injuries still littered across his face. They would heal just fine, but they were still a gnarly sight to look at now. It made the warm relief in her chest begin to burn. So things were different now because they had to be. Things were different now because she had something she was going to fight for.

Love wasn’t pointless. Love was what was going to push her through whatever horror was next in line.

“Cause we’re partners” Ino finished, his brows twitching ever so slightly as he watched something unknown flash in her eyes. They light up for a moment, before she’s nodding back at him, staring at him with the utmost sincerity.

A small “yeah,” is whispered between shaky nods, and her grip on his shoulders tightens just enough for Ino to notice. His lips tilt upwards.

She’s still quiet when she speaks, but it’s not due to the lump in her throat. It’s from true, genuine love pouring out of her so openly that her voice is practically snatched from her. She squeezes his shoulders once more.

“Partners” ___

a/n: well that was my 23k word ino fic that i had to split up bc it was too damn big. laugh it up how in love with him after thirty seconds of screentime

#takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino imagine #takuma ino fanfiction #ino x reader #ino imagine #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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ju1cyfru1t · 1 year ago

Text

the hourglass ⏳ (rise! leo x reader)

prologue

pt.1

rottmnt x reader (Leo centered)

gn reader, platonic???, arguing, leo being stupid 🤞

takes place in the turtles finding mystic metal era 🤭

Today had just not been your day at all. From the moment you woke up, everything was going wrong.

You woke up late because you had stayed up last night to study for a math test, April was sick so you were alone in most of your classes, and you had so much homework to do tonight. You know when you’re having a bad day and all the little things just seem to add up? It was one of those situations.

Now you’re walking home through the busy, noisy New York streets, absolutely exhausted but you knew you weren’t going to get to rest anytime soon.

That’s when it caught your eye in the window of an old, run down antique shop; an hourglass filled with pink sand a golden frame. It had a glow to it, willing you to go into the shop and look at it. There was just something about it…

You picked it up and observed every detail, turning it over. That’s when you saw the small piece of mystic metal wedged into the base. You knew you couldn’t just rip it out or you would damage it. Ugh.

You whipped out your phone, listening to it ring a few times.

“You’ve got Donatello.”

“Hey, Donnie,” you looked around to make sure you were alone except for the small old woman behind the counter but she was deep into a magazine, “listen, I’m at this crusty antique shop and I think I found a piece of mystic metal.”

“Perfect! Great!...What’s the catch?”

“Uh…Well, it’s wedged into the bottom of this hourglass.” You sighed.

“Hourglass?...Hm, just bring it by and I will extract it.”

“What? But I’d have to buy it and it’s…” You searched for a price tag, “Oh my god, it’s 20 dollars!”

Donnie laughed on the other side of the phone, “Don’t even worry about it! I’ll reimburse you…Maybe.”

Oh, the things you do for them. You thought for a second and took a deep breath, “Ok, fine. But you owe me…See you soon.”

The old woman set down her magazine as you placed the hourglass on the counter and digged through your wallet, praying you had enough to buy it.

“Alluring, isn’t it?” She smiled at you with a wink. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Oh, yeah…Haha.” You laughed awkwardly.

You looked very awkward as you carried your newly-owned, oversized hourglass down the sidewalk and you were definitely getting some weird looks. Hey, it’s New York City, right? Surely, they’ve seen weirder things anyway. I mean, you certainly have.

The worst part of visiting your mutant friends is having to crawl down into the sewer and hoping to god no one saw you. But…I guess if it would help them then it’s fine. They definitely owe you though.

You didn’t even bother to knock and just let yourself into their underground lair, which both you and them were used to by now. You looked around, but you didn’t see any of them around. Alright, guess you’ll just head up to Donnie’s lab and see if he’s there. Honestly, you just wanted to get this over with and go home. You loved visiting them, of course, but you were undeniably overwhelmed and not in a good mood at all.

“Whatcha got there?” You jumped and swiftly turned to face Leonardo who had a curious expression.

You sighed in relief, “It’s just you.”

“What is that?” He snatched the hourglass from your hands.

“Hey!” You reached to grab it back, but he moved it out of your reach, “Be careful, Leo. That’s not a toy!”

Leo smirked at you, raising an eyebrow (that he doesn’t have but you know what I mean), “Uh huh, I’m very careful, trust me.” He tossed the hourglass from hand to hand, observing it like you had in the shop.

“I’m serious, Leo, it’s fragile. Just give it back, ok? it’s got a shard of that metal you guys need in it and I need to give it to Donnie.” You groaned in annoyance.

“Come on, lighten up!” Leo scoffed, “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”

“Sorry,” you breathed out, “I just…Had a rough day at school.”

There was silence for a moment before Leo burst out laughing, “Seriously? School? Rough? Yeah, ok.”

“What?” You narrowed you eyes at him, confused. What the hell was he laughing at?

“I’m just saying…What’s so rough about it? You go to school, you learn or whatever, you go home. Seems pretty easy if you ask.” Leo snickered.

Now it was your turn to scoff, “And how would you know, Leon? It’s so much more than that. I mean, it’s so socially draining! All the work at school, and then the homework when you get home. It is hard. I don’t get to just relax all day like you. And put down the damn hourglass before you break it!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Protecting the city don’t just happen on it’s own, you know. I train super hard, I wouldn’t have time for pointless schoolwork. I just don’t see what’s so important about it. You act like school is all that matters to you” Leo’s smug smile faded and he shrugged, still carelessly playing with the hourglass.

“It’s not that easy! I have to care. I mean…God, you couldn’t walk a day in my shoes.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d love to see you walk a mile as a hero.” Leo challenged, smirking.

“If you knew what I go through and how hellishly unfair it is for you to even say that! Put that down!” You grabbed the other handle of the hourglass, trying to yank it away only for Leo to yank right back and leaving you in a tug-of-war.

“Puh-lease! I’d love to be in school all day without a care in the world besides some homework!” Leo’s smile turned into an annoyed, offended look.

“If you only saw the world my way for one day.” You laughed in disbelief at his dismissive, arrogant attitude, “Let go!” You pulled harder at your side of the hourglass, closing your eyes tightly.

A bright pink light filled the room and there was a buzzing sound, but you both were too angry to pay much mind before it faded away.

The hourglass hit the floor, but the glass didn’t shatter. The only part that broke was the small shard of glowing mystic metal, it fell out onto the floor with a small clink.

“Look what you did! I swear you act like such a child!” You groaned, looking back up and seeing…yourself?

“Oh, really, Y/N? I’m a…” Leo looked up and saw…himself?

You both rubbed your eyes and looked back up, blinking a few times, but you were seeing correctly. Whether you believed it or not, you had switched bodies and were staring back at yourselves.

“WHAT THE FU-”

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starstruckkittensweets · 6 months ago

Text

Catch Me When I Fall

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

Star is tired. Star is worn out. Star desperately wants Chuuya to hug her and kiss her until she can't think straight. Star presents an extremely messy and personal fic to you. Star hopes you enjoy ❤️

warnings: fem reader (female pronouns used), job rejection letters, crying, insecurities, may be a bit choppy because I haven't written anything in a while (also it's very late and I'm sleepy) || words: 1.5k

The letter sits there in your hands, only a few short sentences long, but enough to make your heart shatter and your throat close up.

After careful consideration…pursue other candidates…appreciate your time and effort…best of luck with future endeavors…

You’ve read it three times so far, and each time sends another pang straight to your chest. The edges of the paper are soggy with sweat, smudging the fresh ink on the surface. Something warm and wet slides down your cheek, splashing onto the bottom corner. Then another, and another, and soon you’re full-on sobbing right there at the kitchen table.

It’s useless, you’re useless. Why are you so fucking useless?

You almost don’t hear the door unlock, and when you hear Chuuya call out your name, you stuff the paper in your pocket and jump up from your seat.

Wipe your eyes, force it down. Busy your hands with something else.

Take your mind off everything with anything.

“Where are you, doll?”

You swallow hard and turn to the dirty dishes in the sink—yeah, that’ll work. First time in your life you’re actually looking forward to doing house chores.

“There you are.”

A fresh surge of tears runs down your cheeks at Chuuya’s voice, even more so when he comes in close and wraps his arms around your waist from behind. You grit your teeth and smile, praying to every god and goddess above that he won’t notice the heat in your cheeks or the sniffle in your nose.

“How was your day?” Always such a gentleman, asking you before you can even think about asking the same of him. “Not too boring all alone, I hope?”

You shake your head and grab another dish. But it’s hard to see the stains when your sight’s starting to blur again.

“’S fine,” you mumble with a shrug, “how about you?”

Suddenly his body goes stiff against yours, his arms coil tighter around your body, and all you can think of is oh fuck, fuck, fuck, you already fucked up didn’t you—

“You feeling alright, doll?” His voice is soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. But the gentle touch of his hands only worsens the ache in your chest. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong, indeed? Nothing’s wrong, you’re just overreacting. Just like you always do. Not a big deal.

You’ll get over it anyway.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, and damn it you’re running out of dishes to focus on, “it’s nothing—”

“It’s not nothing if it’s makin’ you upset, sweetheart.”

Fuck it, here we go.

A sob wracks through your body, so hard you nearly drop the clean plate back into the soapy water. But Chuuya is quick to swipe it out of your grasp and place it on the drying rack, before shutting off the water altogether. All the while you’re crying in his arms, your soaked hands still gripping the edge of the sink.

“C’mon baby, talk to me,” he whispers against your temple. He gathers you in his arms, not even caring about the water reaching up to your elbows, gently turning you to face him. “What is it? You gotta tell me, I can’t help you if you don’t—”

Your knees are practically jelly, it’s a miracle you don’t tumble to the floor and take Chuuya with you. But he’s too strong for his own good, holding you up with one hand and tracing over your cheek with his other. Wait a minute, when did he take off his gloves?

“Baby, please,” he says one more time, cradling your face in his hands, and even through your tears you can still make out those brilliant blue eyes of his. “Did something happen earlier? Was it something I did? You gotta tell me…”

Your heart clenches at his words; how could he ever think it was something he did? He’s not the one to blame here, not when he’s been nothing but supportive of you ever since you met.

But your tongue just won’t move, the words won’t come out no matter how hard you try, so all you can do is shake your head no. His shoulders sag just a bit at that, but he never loosens his grip on you.

“Alright then… Can you tell me what hurts? Or show me, at least?”

Show him, show him… That’s right, the culprit’s right here in your pocket. It takes a moment to fish it out with how hard your fingers are trembling, and once you do Chuuya’s eyes are scanning it hungrily.

He looks more and more ready to tear the fucking thing in two with every word he reads. But then he meets your teary gaze and drops it to the floor instead. Curling his arms around you once more, guiding you to sit on the floor alongside him so he can tuck your head beneath his chin.

Another one to add to the collection. Watch them pile up on each other, a constant reminder of how fucking useless you are.

“I’m sorry, baby. You’re too good for them anyway, y’know that, right?”

It doesn’t make it hurt any less. But at least he’s trying, holding you tight and pressing a line of kisses across your forehead. Being wrapped up in his arms always helps you feel a bit better.

“I just—”

Fuck, your voice sounds rough. Your throat hurts, your nose is clogged, and you can feel a massive headache coming on. You bury your face into his chest and try again, clutching the back of his shirt as tight as you can.

“…I’m just so sick of it, y’know? How many does that make so far? Five total?” Maybe you’ve lost count at this point.

“Sweetheart—”

No, stop it. The sincerity in his voice only makes you cry harder. He’s always so helpful and supportive, isn’t he? More often than not you wonder if you even truly deserve him.

Rejection. Condolences. Hope crushed to pieces. Then the cycle repeats, just when you think you can handle it.

No matter how much you prepare yourself for the worst outcome, it still stings like hell when you meet it face-to-face.

“You’ll find it, I promise.” Chuuya threads his fingers through your hair as gently as he can. “It’ll take a few tries, but I promise you’ll find it.”

You don’t know how many more tries you have in you at this point.

It’s always a running joke between the two of you, of Chuuya constantly offering to take care of you for the rest of your life with his own money. And you’re always tempted by the offer, especially after a difficult day’s work at your current job. But you never want to be a burden on him; he already does so much for you, it’s not fair to ask anymore of him when you can’t do the same.

“I just…want something a little bit better, you know?”

“I know you do, doll. And you’ll find it, I swear you will. You just have to get through all this shit first…and you’ll find it right there in front of you.”

The tears have slowed, but your head is still pounding with something awful. You raise your head to meet his eyes, heart melting at the sight of his gentle smile and pretty blue eyes. He drags his thumb over your pouty lips, over your chin and up to the apple of your cheek.

“We can talk more about it later, if you feel up to it. Right now, how about you pick out a movie and we’ll order take out later? Sound like a plan, doll?”

More than perfect, but you’re too worn out to put it in words. So you nod instead and let him help you back up to your feet. You reach for the box of tissues on the counter, but Chuuya’s already grabbing it and holding it out to you with a lopsided grin. He really is too good for you, huh?

Not that you’ll ever say that to his face; you’re not in the mood to get scolded by him again.

“C’mon, we both had a pretty rough day, and all I wanna do is curl up with my favorite girl and make her smile again.” He takes your face in his hands again, brushing away the last of your tears with his thumbs. “Where’s that pretty smile, huh? Don’t hide it from me—ah, there it is.”

It’s hard not to smile whenever you’re near your boyfriend. Maybe that’s his real special ability, putting you at ease no matter what kind of day you’ve had. He’s always there to pick you up, no matter how many times you fall or trip over yourself. No matter how many bumps in the road you have to crawl over. No matter how far you have to jump.

He’s always there to catch you, every single time.

“…Chuuya?” He turns just in time for you to collide with his chest, as your arms link around his shoulders as tight as they can. “Thank you… I love you so much, you know that?” Too much to put into words.

He’s quiet at first—but then you feel the familiar comforting hand at the small of your back, his warmth bleeding through the fabric of your shirt. You can feel him smile against your temple before pressing a kiss to your tear-stained cheek.

“Yeah, I know. Love ya too, doll.”

#chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fics

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maybe-moonchild · 3 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 3

summary: in which there is a sleepover and you learn that adrenaline really clouds your judgment. WC: 4.4k

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ

Neither of you move for a really long time. Maybe it isn’t all that long, you can’t really tell as you stand on the corner in silence until Fisk’s limo is long gone. Neither of you can figure out the right thing to say at a time like this.

Peter finally settles on, “Are you alright?”

You can’t quite tell what you are feeling right now.

No. Really. You really have no idea.

Are you mad? Okay, a little bit. It wasn’t like you had a blast, but, you’re also not dead. Then you remember that there was a gun pressed to your temple so maybe you are actually mad. Is it at him? Not quite. Peter hadn’t been the one to do it but it was his fault that it all happened. Except… he didn’t know this was going to happen the one night in eight years that you’re around. You know that you both haven’t been friends in a long time but your mouth still tastes sour at the thought of why he would get involved in the first place. And now, a crime lord knows your face and you name-

“Fine,” you breathe out once you manage to snap yourself out of your spiraling thoughts. You study the shallow puddles of rain that have congregated between the cracks in the sidewalk. Tension and the recent rain makes the air thick, filling your lungs and both alleviating and suffocating you.

“Are you sure?”

He’s doing it again, stepping closer, tilting his head to try and catch your eye. He just wants to see you. He just wants you to look at him so he stops holding his breath.

You comply, peeking up at him through the corner of your eye. “I’m sure.” To emphasize your point, you try to give him a smile. It is pathetically awful, but he finally inhales. “I’m okay. A bit shaken up, but…”

Terrified? Frustrated? Livid? Hurt?

“Fine,” you shrug, finding that the word accurately describes how you are feeling. Not good, not bad; not injured, not… not shaken up. Just… fine.

He hums as he considers your answer, eyes flicking around your face and deciding if he believes you ornot. His proximity makes you want to step back if it means that he’ll stop scrutinizing you.

At least you weren’t the only one unsure of what to say; choking on words that so desperately wanted to claw their way out of your throat. You swallow, forcing them back down where they will hopefully remain for another eight years. He seems to be considering something as you both stare at his shoe, scuffing the cement.

“You can stay here tonight,” he offers quietly. Peter’s hands are shoved so deep in his pockets that it makes his shoulders hover by his ears. You shake your head even if it does sound like an inviting option. The alternative was trekking all the way back to your apartment at 2 in the morning and praying that Katie wasn’t still up, or god forbid, hosting an after party with Flash.

“I really ought to head back.” Peter deflates even more when you step back. Space is good. Space between you two was good. It was normal. Having an unspoken distance wedged between Peter and you was your normal for the past eight years.

“Oh.”

Do not look at him. If you have to see his kicked puppy look, you’ll cave. You always fucking caved when he pulled that out, intentional or not. It wasn’t like you were turning him down because you were mad- or maybe you were; you didn’t know anymore.

“I should get going.” You attempt another pathetic excuse of a smile in the hopes to reassure him that you are perfectly fine. “I think I just really need to shower and sleep…” When the first rain drop pelts against your forehead, you trail off. You reach up, swipe at it and frown at the moisture on your fingertips. Within a matter of moments, it’s down pouring. Fat drops of water exploding on both of your heads and clothes, threatening to soak through your shoes and drenching your hair.

“Oh come the fuck on,” you curse under your breath, throwing up a hand to shield your eyes. You glare up at the sky and think profanities at the universe for, somehow, making this worse.

Peter stays quiet as he watches you, squinting and ducking his head even though you are both getting drenched. He wants you to come to your senses and agree to at least come inside so you can call a cab from there.

When it becomes clear you have no intention of being reasonable, he decides to give in. “Let’s go,” he sighs incredulously, hand wrapping around the crook of your elbow to gently tug you along. You don’t put up a fight and the both of you pick up the pace until you’re running to the front doors.

Neither of you really says anything as you follow him through his apartment complex. Water drips from your hair and clothes, shoes squeaking against the old, cracked tile. There is a musty smell in the hallway that just intensifies the old age of the building.

At least his actual unit has been renovated in the past 5 decades.

Peter and Ned’s shared apartment is one of the better ‘guy’ apartments you have been in. It’s relatively clean; floors and surfaces devoid of garbage and a few dishes in the sink that are likely from only earlier today. There's a few posters on the walls, protected by cheap, simple frames but are actually quite cool looking overall. The plants clearly belong to Ned because Peter had been a notorious plant killer as a child; always forgetting about their existence until the leaves were long brown.

You stand awkwardly by the front door as he ushers you in, his wet hightops landing on the doormat. Your fingers twist and pull at the hem of your dress in the attempt to give yourself something to do as you look around. It’s easier to see more details after he flips on a lamp, dim light stretching the shadows peaking around furniture.

You should be crying, you think. You should be freaking out, panicking because you’d had a gun to your head and Wilson Fisk knows your name.

Instead, you’re too busy wondering if there is a single photo of you hung up in this apartment amongst the others.

Probably not.

“I just uh… couldn’t leave you out there,” Peter sighs, “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Eat?”. He runs his hands through his damp hair once he’s discarded his wet jacket on the dining room chair. At least he’s no longer watching you. Instead, he gracefully slips into the kitchen and reaches for two glasses hidden in the cabinet. His back is towards you, muscles tight under his shirt-

You clear your throat and look away when your face burns. “Uh, no. I'm good.”

Peter glances over his shoulder at where you are still tensely standing in his entry way. You’re too distracted by his apartment to do anything more than try and look for glimpses of the boy you once knew.

When you don’t move any closer, he slowly comes to you. Each hand is adorned with a glass of tap water. You do look up at him this time, fingers still twisting nervously in the bottom of your dress which easily gives away how uncomfortable you feel. Both of you are too worried about the other not wanting to be here.

“Are you warm enough?” Somehow, his voice is even softer, tentative and gentle like he’s expecting you to suddenly freak out. Hell, you still might. “You should change. I can grab you something?”

Peter raises an eyebrow at you and extends the glass. It’s so stupidly cliche that you nearly flinch when your cold fingers brush his and you want to beat yourself up. You take it in your hands but don’t actually think you can drink it because of how unsettled your stomach feels.

It’s funny how similar and different he manages to look at the same time. Same messy brown hair that he never cared to brush, same big brown doe eyes, and same awkward but witty demeanor.

How much do you really know about Peter Parker?

Shaking the thought from your head, you finally find the ability to speak. “Yeah. That’d be great. Thanks.” Your smile is still half hearted but it's what you can manage at the moment.

By the time you step out of his bathroom, donning a pair of his sweatpants that bunch up around your ankles and an old Midtown High School T-Shirt, you feel a little better. Not much, but it’s a start. Anything is better than your damp dress and jacket. Plus, his clothes smell like him-

Not like that matters.

You find Peter sitting on the couch. He’s wearing his own dry clothes, elbows resting on his knees while his leg bounces anxiously. The second he hears you approach, his head snaps up and his eyes find yours.

“Thanks,” you murmur. You decide to slowly lower yourself onto the opposite of the couch before glancing at him. He gives you a timid smile that seems more hopeful than forced. Peter just can’t stop shifting in his spot like he can’t make himself comfortable. It’s probably because of the eight years of history hanging over your heads.

He breaks the silence first. “It’s almost three in the morning. We should both probably get some rest-”

“Why did you steal the files?”

If the question surprises him, he doesn’t show it. In fact, he looks more disappointed than anything, like he’d been hoping that you would have let it go until at least the morning. But no, because here you are, staring down at the floor and chewing on the inside of your cheek in the hopes that you don’t fill the silence. Your eyes remain on the floor, boring holes into the faded wood like you’d somehow find the answers you were looking for in the cracks

The Peter Parker you knew didn’t steal. Didn’t steal candy bars from bodegas or lunch money from weaker kids.

The one sitting beside you, so close that you could touch him if you raised your hand. That Peter Parker, stole files from Manhattan crime lords and didn’t flinch when someone waved a gun around or forced him into a limo.

Hanging his head is a good way to hide his guilty expression. He mirrors you in looking for an answer hidden in the floor. Jokes on him, it’s not there.

“Because it was the right thing to do. People would benefit from that information being out in the open rather than in the hands of a criminal.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” you snap back. This time you actually do turn to face him but he won’t look up. Not when he can barely handle the feel of your stare.

You continue after running a hand through your damp hair. “I mean why? What on earth were you doing that put you in the position in the first place to take it? And why did Fisk talk to you like he knew you? And why were you not freaking out?” “I was too freaking out-” “Oh please, you barely even flinched the entire time there was a gun being pointed at you.”

Peter wants to protest but quickly snaps his mouth closed. You’re right. Having a gun trained on him was pretty much a weekly (probably more) occurrence. Having a gun trained on you? Oh, yeah. That easily makes the top five worst moments of his life.

His leg hasn’t stopped bouncing up and down, teeth chewing at his lip like he's chewing on what to say. What kind of lie can he come up with when you have to be the hardest person to lie to. Part because he feels bad but also because you can always know when he does.

“I was just being nosy… and I wanted to see what he had.” Peter shrugs dismissively. The second he manages to look up, the glare you're fixing him with makes him immediately jerk his head away.

Right there.

Right there, you have your answer.

That he is never going to give you one. Not something that is the truth. Nothing that gives you any insight into why anything that happened tonight happened.

Disappointment slams into you so hard that you want to choke on it. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him. The same way you felt at the age of fourteen, back when you’d try and approach him in the hall between classes. How he’d blow off your attempts at making conversation with one word answers before hurrying away.

Blowing you off, again. Yeah, this felt a lot like that.

You drop your head into your hands which catches his attention. As the adrenaline continues to wear off, you can't tell if you want to cry, scream, or all the above.

“Peter,” you say slowly, the drawn out words quiet and strained. “I had a gun to my head.”

That reminder is enough to make him wince. The last thing he wants to do is brush over the severity of what happened. He leans forward, staring at you when he hears the pleading in your voice. All he wants to do is lean forward and grab your hand but he doesn’t.

It feels wrong at this point. He’d hurt you enough tonight.

“I know.” Another apology almost falls from his mouth until he decides to suck in a shaky breath instead. “I know that and I’m so… I am so sorry.”

What do you really know about Peter Parker?

“I know that,” you sigh in defeat and sit up. You know how sorry he is. That he’s only begun to beat himself up over it. Whether or not he was sorry about the whole thing was never a question.

You and Peter were clearly exhausted and tensions were running high. Even if he was used to the whole Spider-Man thing where he swung around New York, saving the day and finding himself in copious amounts of dangerous situations, he wasn’t used to you. Having your presence back in his life would take some getting used to.

If you even were back in his life after how tonight went.

“You have always been the guy that stands up for what’s right.” There’s only a few inches between your fingertips and his. While you stare at the floor, he’s staring at your hand. “And no matter how hard you got knocked down, you always got back up. It was something I've always loved about you but… stealing from a guy like Fisk? Putting yourself in harm's way like that?”

You can’t even think about it.

“I’ve gotten a lot of knocks,” he says with a solemn chuckle that he doesn’t feel. “A lot.” It was an attempt to lighten the mood but it just makes you suck in a breath. The smile falls right off Peter’s face, not like he would even call it a smile.

After a long moment, he tries again. “I’m still the same. I promise.” He’s not sure if he really believes it himself. His thumb brushes your knuckle and you pull your hand away to shove your damp head off your forehead.

“You are but you aren’t.” There’s too much exhaustion coursing through your veins for you to be angry any longer. Now that the adrenaline is gone, it's impossible to be mad but that doesn’t mean you won’t be in a matter of hours.

It’s at this moment that you realize that he didn’t even consider calling the cops tonight. Worse, neither have you, until now. Why did calling the cops not cross your mind until now? That should've been the first thing- That’s a stupid bullshit problem for tomorrow because your head might explode.

“Look, it’s late and- can we just go to sleep? I still have to meet my parents in the morning.” Peter nods at your request and pushes up from his seat. “I’ll just sleep here on the couch. I can just head out in the morning.”

Peter shakes his head vehemently. “No. I’ll sleep on the couch. I took you away from that party and put you in danger. Just let me have this.”

Normally, you would have at least argued to prolong the inevitability of giving in and letting him take his own couch. You just can’t tonight. An exhausted sound falls from your mouth, knuckles digging into your eye sockets as you stand.

Both of you are relieved when you follow him to his room.

Once he flips on the little lamp, you're able to take in the space. The bedroom screams Peter Parker. You can pretty much take inventory of all of the things you’d seen in his room at May’s. Your eyes find the collections of photos on the walls and, again, you wonder if your face is hidden up there.

“Are you sure?” you ask from the doorway. He glances back at you, his face brightening ever so slightly.

“Yes.” He replieds quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed so he can pull back a corner for you to climb in. It takes you another long shared look before you give in for good. You take his spot as he stands, climbing onto the sheets before he tugs the blankets over your legs.

Neither of you can think of something more to say. The rain is still coming down hard, rattling the window pane in his old apartment. He reaches over to the bedside table and presses a button and the light turns off. In the dark, he feels a bit more secure.

“Try and sleep.” Peter whispers, though it feels too much like a plea for him to feel good about. He didn’t deserve you.

He’s going to leave. You don’t actually want him to go.

You grab his forearm before you even realize what you're doing, his muscles solid under your palm. For a long moment, it’s painfully quiet. So painfully quiet and you know you have to say something. He’s waiting for you to say something.

“Can you just-” you start, hesitating and letting out a huff. The words feel stuck in your throat. Once you say them, you can never take them back. “Can you just stay? Like when we were kids.”

Peter blinks. It’s the most simple thing you could ask. You’re not asking him to tell you what he’s been up to.

You’re not asking for answers.

You’re just asking him to stay.

All he wants to do is to stay. He doesn’t need any more prompts than that.

“Yes,” he whispers softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “I can do that.” Your head hangs in relief before you scoot over to make room for him. The bed dips under his weight as you both settle onto your sides, covers tucked up under your chins. Flashes of lightning illuminate his face and you half expect him to suddenly be nine years old again, soaking wet, and missing a tooth.

Just like as kids, when you’d sneak in each other's windows when you couldn’t sleep.

“Thank you.”

A soft breeze blows in the window in the dead of night, and Peter doesn’t stop you as you shift closer and he smells you. You smell like that shampoo you used to use on his hair when you were twelve. When he showed up at your window with a pout, streaked with dirt, and burrs tangled in his hair because he fell out of tree.

Your head is facing his way, and the soft exhale of thanks you murmur catches his breath in his throat. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the feeling of laying next to you.

A flash of lightning makes him blink, as if to convince himself that he’s really here and not dreaming.

“Like we were kids?” he asks hesitantly, laying on his back and lifting up his arm. You nod and decide that nothing needs to be worried about until tomorrow morning. Clearly, you’re traumatized from tonight and cannot be held accountable for your actions. Scooting closer, you tuck yourself against his side. Your head finds his chest and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you closer.

Peter knows you belong there.

Just him and you.

For the first time tonight, you finally feel warm after being caught in the downpour. There’s only a few inches of bare skin shared between you two from where his arm is wrapped around you. Your hair tickles his cheek and he rests his chin on the top of your head. It’s the most comfortable either of you have felt in a very long time.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You nod, his heartbeat palpable under your head. It’s you that moves first, reaching up to trace the seam of the collar of his shirt. That seems to give him the courage to let his hand trail up to the back of your head. His other hand rests limply on his stomach, fingers resting so close to your own that he was itching to close the distance.

His thumb traces the nape of your neck, his heart rate picking up with each second.

This was always how it went with you. So subtle, so quick, but you always noticed it.

And now, as he thinks back on your shared life in those quiet few moments, he regrets every moment he’s spent away from you in the last eight years.

But you’re different now; the years apart have changed you. Just like they’d changed him too.

“Do you remember when-” Peter pauses, his fingers still playing with your hair in the dark. He’s never been so thankful for invisibility than this moment. “When we were seniors… In Flash’s yard at that party he had for graduation-”

“Why are you asking this,” you breath out so sharply that it cuts through his words. When he goes quiet, you can feel him still from where you’re still tucked against his side. Your head lifts up off his chest to look at him, unflinching when you're both nose to nose.

You can’t, for the life of you, figure out why he would want to bring this up. Why would either one of you want to relive that moment?

You hate this moment.

You hate this moment so much that just the mention of it is like a slap to the face.

Peter was a teenager. So were you. Neither of you had spoken- really spoken, since freshman year. You shoving through Midtown High’s senior class, all crammed in Flash’s house, trying to catch up as he slipped outside. You were trying and he was shutting you down. Things just kept escalating. The solo cup spilling strawberry vodka and sprite on the grass because your hands are occupied with clinging onto his shoulders. Your back pressing into the siding, legs looped around his waist and his tongue swiping against your bottom lip-

“Because I…” he pauses, unsure of the words that need to come out. They’re on his tongue, but he’s not sure he can actually speak them. “I just…”

Because I want to kiss you right now.

It’s too dark for you to make out much of his expression even that close up. Yours is hurt, you can feel the emotion settling on your face like a stupid, fucking billboard with your thoughts. Even in the dark, he can read you better than anyone else.

“You just…”

A flash of lightning illuminates the room momentarily, leaving you to wonder if this moment is just a figment of your imagination. It can’t be; you just might die if this wasn’t really happening. You don’t pull away from the intensity of it like you should before he can catch up to the moment.

He could probably lean down right now, and you’d pull him in.

So, he does just that.

This is the third time you’ve kissed Peter.

It’s nothing like the first time, when you were both eleven and didn’t even know what kissing even was.. All chaste and sudden, nervous giggles and never spoken about again.

Or when you were thirteen. Awkward and in front of too many of your classmates at the hands of spin the bottle on a dirty hotel floor.

This? This is just the two of you. You and him and the dark. The rain drumming against the window muffles the world around you to the point that you aren’t quite sure that anything else exists. It doesn’t need to.

One of Peter’s hands tangles in your hair, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. The other makes a home on your waist. You cup his jaw, pulling him closer and kissing him harder. If you think, you’ll stop. God. You really don’t want to stop.

He kisses you with every ounce or emotion he can manage to pack into him. He kisses you like he’s known you his whole life, but never actually touched you before. He kisses you with all the missed years, the tears and the loneliness, the guilt, the regret, and the love.

And as he kisses you, his hand snakes down your body and he pulls you closer.

Everything is silent, save for the rain tapping on the windows and your ragged breaths together.

You and Peter fall asleep that way, pressed together and tangled in the sheets. At some point, your kisses turn slow and tired, eyes closed from exhaustion even if you really didn’t care about seeing. Neither of you attempted to move away as you happily accepted unconsciousness with your limbs intertwined.

Peter had always been a heavy sleeper.

It’s what makes it so easy to sneak out of his apartment the next morning without waking him. But… maybe, you also did it because then you would have to acknowledge... You didn’t know what you should have been acknowledging.

So you slip out the door, leaving nothing behind but his folded clothes, a note thanking him for not letting you get killed, and the smell of your shampoo on his pillows.

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