#It's like the middle of the night but I was in an angsty mood okay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1d1195 · 1 month

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Neighbors Extra V

Read Neighbors here | ~2.5k words

From me: based on this ask. Takes place probably in between Part 5 and Extra I

Warnings: a little angsty, a little fluffy, enjoy 💕

It was the stretch of bad weather that did it. Played a trick on his mind. It hurt to think about those weeks without his favorite people. He knew what bad weather could do to people and he knew how it could affect him. It was weird, the night before he rather enjoyed the sound of rain against the window, the slight chill in the air contrasted with the warmth coming off her from the bed. Now it seemed like a curse.

“Harry?” Rory called, hearing the thunder in the middle of the night. It made his heart ache to know Rory called Harry’s name and not for Mumma the way he usually did. Harry rolled out of bed pressing a swift kiss to her forehead despite his negativity settling into the pit of his stomach. He made his way for Rory’s room. He forgot about the frustration he felt about her and the weeks that she chose to separate them. Rory needed him.

“S’matter, lad?” Harry asked sitting on the end of his bed. There was relief in his eyes that was visible in the low light of his nightlight. That relief made Harry’s heart clench. He put his hand on his leg atop the covers and squeezed his shin.

“Is... is Mumma scared?” He asked softly.

Harry tilted his head curiously. “Mummy’s sleeping,” he assured him.

“Oh... um...” Rory was so little looking in his bed. “Mumma gets scared with thunder sometimes,” he explained. “I usually go sleep with her to keep her safe.”

Harry blamed the lateness of the hour for his slow-moving brain cells and not understanding what Rory was trying to tell him faster. “Oh?” He nodded. “I see. Well, do y’want t’come check on her?” He asked standing beside his bed and pulling the covers back.

He nodded eagerly; it was punctuated by a crack of thunder that practically shook the house. His eyes widened with fear while trying to be brave. After his little hospital stay, Harry noted how nervous Rory seemed sometimes—especially when it came to his mum and making sure she wasn’t nervous too. “That was scary,” Harry admitted and scooped Rory into his arms quickly, tucking his head against his shoulder.

“You’re scared of thunder?” He asked incredulously but didn't move his face from Harry's neck.

“Isn’t everyone?” Harry smirked without Rory seeing. “Y'know that Mummy is, me...s'like you’re the bravest one of us."

Rory squirmed a bit in Harry’s arms--like the weight of his phobia and subsequent fake-bravery was too much for him. “I think I’m a little afraid of thunder,” he whispered to Harry. Harry nodded and squeezed him.

“S’okay. S’brave of you t’want t’check on Mummy anyway.”

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” he admitted.

“Allowed?” Harry repeated.

“Because Mumma has you now.”

Harry didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the night. Not when he was feeling frustrated with the love of his life’s actions. Not when the weather was souring his mood. Not when Rory felt scared, and he didn’t know how to fix it completely.

“Rory,” Harry sighed stopping outside the bedroom. “Mummy and I are always going t’need you,” he promised. “You don’t have t’change how y’do things because m’here,” he pressed his lips against the little one’s forehead.

"Okay," he nodded.

Harry smiled at him again, ran his hand through his hair comfortingly before he headed back in the bedroom. He knelt on the bed and deposited Rory in the middle. She hadn’t moved. Probably tired from being perfect all day, Harry presumed. Rory nestled into the middle of the bed and Harry smiled softly, feeling more tired, thankfully, than when he woke up. His mind didn’t need to reel with more feelings of frustration before he fell back asleep. “Night, Harry,” Rory whispered.

Harry smiled as he drifted off. “Night Rory.”

The rainy night turned into a rainy day. Harry was quiet. She noticed it immediately. When she woke up with the help of her internal clock at six-thirty, she realized Rory’s little face was staring back at her. She blinked in surprise, wondering when he got there. Harry’s hand was resting protectively on Rory’s little rib cage and her heart melted so thoroughly she thought she would cry.

Swallowing the emotion in her throat she snuck out of bed to start breakfast as Rory would surely wake up with the help of his own internal clock in about thirty minutes. The rain and dark clouds made her think of her trip to the hospital in the middle of the night, quickly she shook her head of those thoughts.

As if on cue, Harry and Rory descended the stairs as she poured juice for them. “Hi Mumma!” Rory smiled excitedly. Harry released him and he scurried over to hug her legs. She bent and kissed the top of his head before returning to the scrambled eggs on the stove.

“Hi love bug,” she grinned. “Did you sleep okay?”

Rory glanced back at Harry and nodded. “Harry said I was really brave about the thunder.”

She was surprised she didn’t wake to the sound of it and moreover the sound of Rory’s little worried voice because of it. She pursed her lips and glanced at Harry as well. “Yeah?” She asked quietly.

Harry nodded. He pressed a kiss to her temple and grabbed the three glasses of orange juice to settle on the table. “Rory was braver than I was,” he repeated. “He wanted t’make sure y’were sleeping okay. Because y’get scared in the thunderstorms sometimes.”

Her heart clenched with love for the little one. More for Harry for going along with every little detail and every insecurity Rory shared with him. She smiled and nodded. “Thanks, cutie pie,” she ruffled his hair as he held onto her leg still.

Harry sat at the table. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid much attention to the position, but he didn’t really look up from his phone. He didn’t look up when she said breakfast was almost ready—when he usually hopped up to get plates, silverware, etc. Rory followed over to Harry. Joined him by sitting right on his lap, Harry moving instinctively to hold him as they examined Harry’s phone.

“Honey, can you ask Harry if it’s okay first—he might be doing something for work or—”

“S’fine, kitten,” he mumbled, interrupting her without further explanation.

“It’s highlights from the soccer game,” Rory explained.

Biting her lip, she suddenly felt a bit intrusive. Quietly, she set plates in front of the pair and then ate her own food in near silence—save for the cheers and announcers coming from Harry’s phone. It felt odd to feel left out. For so long it had been her and Rory. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she swore Harry almost seemed... annoyed with her.

After Rory started playing on his own, she would ask. Or maybe when Rory went to sleep tonight.

For now, even if she was a bit anxious about Harry’s coldness toward her, she couldn’t help but adore how sweet Harry and Rory looked at the other end of the table. The same concentrated expression on their faces as they watched his phone screen. Her heart was so full it felt illegal to be that happy. Harry kissed the back of Rory’s head without fanfare, without thinking. His phone propped against the flower vase while he ate his breakfast with one hand.

Just as quietly, she snapped a picture of the pair of them. One to send to her family as well as his for sure.

Rory and Harry were nearly inseparable the whole day. It allowed her to get a lot of cleaning and laundry done that had been neglected since Rory couldn’t play in the yard with the unending rainy weather. In the late afternoon, Rory asked that they play a few rounds of Candyland. So, they did. Harry smiled at Rory the whole time and chuckled every time her turn brought her back to the Peppermint Forest when she was almost to the Candy Castle.

It almost felt mean spirited.

But the boys went to play again in Rory's room after Candyland. Harry even got Rory to take a bath without the usual argument that ensued when she did. Their little day spent together right under her nose made her a little jealous—although she wasn’t sure who she was jealous of when she thought about it. They paused to have leftovers for dinner (because it was Saturday, and that was their routine) While they played, she read some of her long-neglected book that was often set to the side for room to play with her son.

“Rory wants you t’say goodnight,” Harry said quietly as he flopped onto the couch grabbing the controller off the coffee table. She blinked, glanced at the clock along the wall of the dining area and shook her head at how rapidly the time had moved.

“It’s eight already?” She asked, mostly to herself. There was no arguing, no ‘one more story,’ not even a good night kiss as had happened many nights before when Harry put Rory to bed.

He nodded anyway, scrolling through movie and show options on Netflix without even looking at her. She eyed him suspiciously the entire time she ascended the stairs to Rory’s room. “Hi Mumma,” he grinned happily. He smelled clean and fresh. His room was tidy (thanks to Harry’s kind reminders as they played, she was sure). Rory was perfect. But she may have been a bit biased.

“Hi baby,” she smiled. “Did you have fun playing with Harry today?” She asked.

He nodded. “We played so much,” it was as if he realized it all on his own and how weird of a day it was to have a playdate right near her without hardly including her.

“You did,” she grinned and kissed his forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She had said it to him since the day they met Harry and he had asked for clarification.

He grinned and rolled over sleepily. “I love you, too, Mumma,” he yawned. She turned his light off, ensuring the nightlight remained on. She closed the door and returned to the living room. Harry was unmoved; legs outstretched on the coffee table.

Harry shifted as she removed her book from the sofa and placed it beside Harry’s feet on the table. He was silent. Her discomfort amplified and she turned to him. “Are you...okay?” She asked. He nodded, still unspeaking. She bit the inside of her lip. “Uh...Harry, it really feels like—”

“It was really unfair,” he mumbled. His gaze was unmoving from the TV but he wasn’t watching.

“What was—”

“You just...stopped talking t’me. Y’didn’t tell me why. Rory had t’come t’me in secret t’invite me t’his game,” he reminded her. “I know why y’did,” he looked at her squarely for the first time all day. “But it hurt. And I never really got t’grieve it because you came back but it hurt,” he repeated. Her chest ached, feeling like he pierced a whole right through it.

“Harry,” she whispered, an apology forming.

He shook his head. “Y’don’t have t’say anything. S’over and m’not...” he sighed. “M’really not mad, kitten. M’not. S’jus’ the crummy weather made me think of it. Playing with Rory all day made me think ‘bout all those weeks I didn’t have with him. S’not fair and s’not anyone’s fault. M’jus... sad.”

Her heart felt shattered. “But—”

“You don’t have t’say anything.”

But she felt like she did. Harry resenting her felt like a very real possibility and it terrified her. “You’ll resent me.”

“Of course I won’t,” he turned to her with such fierceness in his eyes she felt as if the sun had finally broke the cloud barrier after their long weak of rain. “I know why y’did it. But m’sad about it,” he grabbed her hand. “I trust you that it won’t happen again,” he kissed her knuckles. “M’sorry I was cold today. I jus’ never got t’process or tell you how it felt.”

Well, if it was worse than this moment--and she was sure that it wasn’t even a fraction of the anguish and hurt Harry felt at the time--then she didn’t want to ever make him feel that way again. Didn’t want to experience it herself in any manner—even if Harry very much deserved to make her feel the way she made him feel.

“Harry,” she repeated. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. Tongue-tied, confused, and unsure. Things she rarely felt since she had Rory because she couldn't. “I... I don’t know how to—”

“Kitten,” he squeezed her hand. “M’not mad. M’not going t’hold it against you. But I needed to tell you, so I don’t.”

“Harry,” she felt like a broken record.

“Beautiful,” he echoed in the same tone. “M’not mad,” he promised.

She crawled across the couch, curled in his lap and nuzzled against him in a way that a grown woman had no business to do. Tears stung behind her eyes and her breath felt shallow in her lungs. “I was an idiot,” she whispered hoping it would ease the ache, the fear she felt of losing Harry when she had only started to have him.

“Oh, kitten,” he cooed. “Y’might be the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he assured her running his hand up and down her back. “I was mean today. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You should have punched me in the face.”

He chuckled. “Never in a billion years, love,” he brushed her hair out of her face. “You didn’t need t’do it, but I get it.”

“I didn’t. I shouldn’t have. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“M’telling you, you don’t need to. I won’t behave poorly like I did today again.”

Her heart felt so broken--she was afraid to speak. Worried it would just come out in a mess of sobs that Harry would unfairly have to comfort. “I can’t even believe you’re apologizing for your behavior. It was my own doing.”

“Angel,” he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose. “You did what you thought was best as a mum. M’never going t’fault you for that; just...” he smiled and shook his head. “Tell me beforehand next time, yeah?”

She snorted. “I won’t ever let there be a next time,” she vowed. He winked at her, cupped her face with his hands that she missed gently caressing her and touching her in between playing with Rory, all day long. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #neighbor!harry #harry styles sad #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction writing #neighbors

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fandom-imagines-stories · 6 months

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Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night.

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules.

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here.

Just like you were.

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.”

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.”

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Then lead the way.”

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod.

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid.

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you.

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods.

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you.

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly.

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity.

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?”

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’”

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.”

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned.

“That we did.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you.

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there.

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement.

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors.

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.”

He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said.

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry.

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating.

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different.

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back.

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.”

You hummed and nodded.

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder.

“Are you cold?” Kili asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes.

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody.

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible.

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant.

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies.

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind.

And they were getting closer.

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you.

Kili grimaced.

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden. Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance.

“Can you see them?” He asked.

“Shh.”

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three.

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce.

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head.

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled.

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours.

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy.

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air.

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up.

You didn’t take it.

“We need to keep moving.”

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.”

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words.

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end.

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy.

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly.

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.”

“I need to find my sisters.”

You kept walking.

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone.

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting.

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks.

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned.

“We’ll make it.”

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine.

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions.

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again.

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted.

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real.

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you.

In a blink, the blizzard set in.

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours.

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you.

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin.

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind.

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.”

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened.

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth.

Kili gulped. “I hoped.”

“You hoped?”

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.”

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms.

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.”

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head.

“Alright,” you conceded.

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.”

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold.

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep.

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N! Where are you?”

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Maryina and Baeriel.

You listened again.

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you.

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard.

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver.

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape.

Empty.

“Y/N?”

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs.

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind.

“Y/N!” He called out.

The storm screamed in response.

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away.

“Y/N!” He shouted again.

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter.

Why would you have gone off alone?

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone.

“Y/N!”

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders.

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket.

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you.

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….”

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth.

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.”

Already, you looked like a walking corpse.

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.”

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope.

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.”

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.”

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek.

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time.

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant.

He was, and would always be, your shelter.

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest.

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes.

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead.

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber.

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing.

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies.

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them.

Fili turned to his brother.

Kili shook his head.

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step.

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone.

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.”

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?”

Both turned to you.

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you.

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you.

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you.

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed.

“What would you have me do?”

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale.

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.”

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.”

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move.

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t?

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years.

He loved you.

Perhaps Fili was right.

Maybe it was time to finally tell you.

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place.

What if this was a mistake?

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped.

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you.

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer.

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word.

Finally.

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing.

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change.

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop.

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you.

He said it again, now. “I love you.”

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time.

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.”

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours.

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded.

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.”

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him.

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked.

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

#kili #kili durin son #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #fili #kili and fili #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #fantasy #winter #cuddling

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s4toryuu · 4 months

Text

it’s okay — gojo satoru

two weeks after suguru’s death, you come home to to your apartment and to your surprise, your boyfriend.

notes: hurt and comfort, post jjk0, established relationship, angst, ooc!gojo (you’ll see), sorry in advance, based off when gege said gojo had many breakdowns after jjk0

just like everyone, when you first met satoru back when you were first years, he was insufferable. however, you being you, you concluded that it would only be common sense that his title of being the strongest made a not-so-positive impact on his psyche. so you were forgiving.

you secretly made it one of four years’ mission to get the one and only gojo satoru to open up and drop the cocky act. but even when amanai riko, the girl he grew fond of in your third year, was assassinated, he barely budged. he said he barely knew her. not to say he wasn’t phased by it, but every time it would come up he would find a way to lighten the mood like he always has.

this was when you confirmed your belief about his damaged psyche. when they were in okinawa, satoru had texted you and shoko about riko and how you would love her and how riko would love shoko and utahime. he told you about the beach and the aquarium, and later geto told you about how satoru stayed up all the nights to keep guard. he cared about amanai, so his reaction couldn’t have been completely truthful.

you two still weren’t the closest then, but you just couldn’t let it go. awkwardly a couple of weeks after the girl’s death, you approach satoru after you finished a quick duo mission. “goj—satoru,” you start, mistaking his family name. he looks to you from the vending machine. “you know, it’s okay to be sad about it.” your voice gets quieter from the bench you sat at.

“huh? about what?” gojo sits next to you, handing you your drink of choice. “oh. yeah, I know.” he opens his coke. “but ‘ya know. it is what it is—that brat is probably in a better place anyway.” he shrugged and sat limp beside you with his arm behind your back, resting on the wood.

“satoru, it’s okay.” he took a big inhale and you fiddled with the drink in your hand.

“did suguru send you or something? or you being sweet for something else?” he looked to the side through his glasses. “it’s nothing to me now. plus, I learned a lot from it anyway.”

then, a year later, he barely talked about it when suguru defected. you figured you just weren’t close enough. when you started dating a year after that, the first thing you talked to him about was how it was okay to be sad even if it meant being weak in his eyes.

however, in the next 9 years, you’ve never caught him being more than just quiet or reserved when he was feeling down. even then, it wasn’t complete because he was always making annoying remarks. so you set that mission aside to be ready if the time ever comes, but decided not to hold your breath.

sometime in that time frame, you slowly notice satoru letting his guard down to you more and more during challenging times. upsetting or sad times were extremely rare, but that just made you treasure and observe them more carefully. you think it’s just satoru maturing as well. you used to joke that satoru being genuinely really sad was just as rare as his six eyes and infinity combo.

most of the times were because of his (and yours, kinda) adopted son/little brother/student/nephew/beneficiary/“brat with crazy potential”/“the future” named fushiguro megumi not playing along to his antics. the worst was when the pre-teen lashed out at satoru for “acting too much like my dad.”

that was the first time you saw satoru genuinely upset. he had asked (interrogated) megumi about his new middle school, to which the angsty kid, stressed with the new environment, who wanted to be left alone, snapped. satoru has opened up to you that night.

two weeks ago, satoru killed his best friend. you were guarding inside the school, especially because of the new student. when you had heard the news, all you thought about was satoru. it had been almost ten years that you talked to suguru, and honestly while you couldn’t blame him for his crimes, it was hard to look at him the same.

the first week after that, satoru was perfectly normal. the start of the week after was the same, so you figured he might’ve not been as affected as you thought. however, you couldn’t accept that he was just okay with permanently losing his self-proclaimed “other half.”

so when you come home after a full day’s worth of errands and hear deep shaky breaths from your bathroom, you think you’re mistaken. that part of you you set aside shivered at the thought that you were correct; that satoru bottled these big feelings to release them alone.

“satoru?” you called softly before slipping off your shoes. the door to the bathroom was open. as you started your way towards it the faucet started running, followed by water splashing against a face you now studied as you leaned against the doorframe.

“hey! you’re home early!” satoru smiled at you, face wet. he made no effort to stop the droplets from running down his chin, to his neck, and eventually to his sweater.

“so are you, toru. is everything okay?” you shifted your weight and he turned the water off. you swear you felt your brain flex at you struggling to decide how to approach this.

you swear he was just crying. will you make him uncomfortable if you pry? no, you don’t want to pry anyway. he was forced to kill his best friend just less than two weeks ago. it had only been you, shoko and satoru since suguru had first defected, but despite the time, satoru had always talked to you about suguru coming back somehow.

“yep. yaga let me come home early. I might take him up on that break offer, honestly.” satoru watched himself in the mirror, smile slowly fading. you grab a towel from a cabinet and have your boyfriend face you.

“that’s good. your students won’t mind. they understand—we all understand.” gently, you reach up to dry his face. to your surprise, you got stuck just in front of his nose. he still had his infinity on. you waited for him to realize, as he zoned out looking down at you.

satoru sighed softly and he closed his eyes. “shit, sorry. I’m distracted.” he rubbed his forehead and you wiped his face.

“it’s okay.” you tiptoed to kiss his temple and he bent down to reach around your waist. you hugged for a good ten seconds, feeling his chin on your shoulder.

“wanna take a nap?” you asked in an almost whisper. satoru nodded on your shoulder. “I’ll wash up first.” satoru hums and lets you go. really, you just wanted to hug him. you weren’t tired at all, but knowing satoru he would only rest like this if you were there to encourage it.

you dressed in a matching crewneck and shorts and walked to satoru, who was already on the verge of sleep in your bed. usually, when he felt your weight on the mattress he would lay his arm out for you to lay against his chest. instead, satoru let you lay down and just hugged you from your side.

he closed his eyes and sighed. he called your name and you moved your arm to let him lay against you. “I’m just distracted. I’ll save that vacation for another time.” he said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“baby it’s a break, not a vacation. I think you should take it. I can stay home with you if you want—”

“it won’t do anything anyway.” your boyfriend snuggled into you and rubs his face under your shoulder. you two laid in silence and after a couple of beats you speak up.

“I miss him too y’know.” you say, just above a whisper. you adjusted to put your arm under his head and turn yourself to face him. he nods his face into your neck.

satoru breathes in deeply and holds it in his chest. he releases it shakily. he doesn’t inhale until a couple beats and then he holds it and shakily releases it again. you rest your chin on the crown of his head, met with the comforting scent of his haircare. you think of what to say next, but gave up to hold satoru tighter.

“he’s gone now. because of me.” satoru whispers. your heart shatters and you freeze. suddenly all the memories of you, shoko, satoru and suguru from high school flows into your brain. you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. you wrap your hand around his head to bring him closer—an attempt to somehow share this burden.

you feel satoru swallow and he sighs. his breathing gets deeper with each breath, and you notice them getting more hasty. your heart sank to your stomach.

“satoru…” you start. he curls into you, knees shifting up against your thigh and finally, the tension breaks.

satoru sobs. he hugs you tighter and you feel tears welling up in your own eyes.

your mind went blank. you knew there was nothing you could say to comfort your boyfriend. this was the first time you’ve seen him cry in thirteen years. you felt as if your heart was squeezed. satoru was sobbing against your neck and you wanted nothing but to at least take some of his pain.

you listened to satoru sob and you closed your eyes. you held him, hoping the pressure comforts him. it was difficult as he’s almost twice your size, but nothing else felt right.

you knew satoru wasn’t only referring to killing suguru two weeks ago. he had told you how he was too weak to plead his best friend ten years ago to stay—that the two of them could make this all right. that the two of them could’ve corrected the system. he believed he could’ve prevented everything if only he was strong enough to do something so mundane compared to his battles. why couldn’t he have just… spoke?

satoru’s sobs leveled off. he went back to hasty breathing. you felt his tears on your pillow now and shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. all you wanted was for satoru to stop carrying his pain alone.

you kiss the top of his head and your own tears start to flow. “it’s okay, satoru.”

after a moment he pulls away from you and sits up, looking down at his lap. you stared at his slumped shoulders and he tried to steady his breathing. you sat up too and scooted up to turn your body to face him.

you held your hand to his cheek. he looked at you and looked back down. “it’s okay.”

he let out a shaky breath and you wiped his tears. his face was warm to the touch. he started a word, but he sighed and shook his head. you leaned in and hugged him. it was more for you than for him.

to say this broke your heart was too much of an understatement. you wondered how many times he’d cried alone. just because he was pinned to be “the strongest.” the title leaked into his life outside of his power. for a second you hated the world. you hated everyone at the school; yaga, shoko, nanami… your head felt hot with rage at how they could let that happen— how they could let satoru bear so much alone.

satoru looks down when you pull away, hiding his face. your hands rest on his shoulders and you kiss the top of his head again. “it’s okay.”

he coughs twice. you get up to get him a glass of water and he finishes it in three gulps.

“do you want to talk about it?”

satoru swallows and sighs outward. “I had to review the report. And testify as a witness. Yaga came and they let me off easy.” you sit down at the edge of the bed to listen.

“I just—“ he stutters. “that’s it.” you’re glad he’s calmed down. he finally looks up at you, still struggling to hold eye contact. it must feel weird for him to cry in front of you. his eyes were wet and red, along with his nose. his brows furrowed and he looks down again.

“I’m really sorry you had to relive that. those higher ups don’t understand your relationship. but it’s okay to think about it once in a while—and mourn.” you tell him.

“yeah…I know, it’s just hard.” he sniffled.

“I know.” you sigh. you pat his head and he rests it on your shoulder. you hug him again. the two of you make your way back to your previous position laying down, and you flipped your pillow. satoru scoffs amusingly, after which you expected a clever remark to come but it doesn’t.

“could you…” he hesitates.

“yeah?”

“could you… stay tomorrow?” satoru huffs into your shoulder.

“of course.”

reblog to give gojo a hug :(

m.list

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #gojo satoru #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #geto suguru #jjk x reader #im brocken #my soul actually hurts #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #not proofread (well)

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misc-obeyme · 9 months

Note

Can I see "You're not alone. You never were." with Satan please?

Hello there, anon!

Okay, this was the first one I've done, so hopefully it turned out okay. It was like a little puzzle trying to figure out how to fit in the line of dialogue! Anyway, it's also kinda long because I have decided not to give myself a word limit... not sure if that was a good idea or not lol.

Due to the nature of this particular prompt, this one turned out a little angsty in the middle, but it ends with fluff.

Anyway, thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Satan with prompt "You're not alone. You never were."

Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst

From the very beginning, Satan was paying attention to you. When you showed up that day at RAD, he hadn't been sure what to expect. A human exchange student? One that didn't know anything about the Devildom or magic prior to their arrival? He thought you would be weak or stupid or both.

You might have been a little scared to find yourself in such an unusual place, but you surprised him with the way you handled yourself. As time passed, you continued to catch him off guard with how quickly you learned, how easily you adapted, how you stayed strong and confident through everything.

Satan was always observing you, noticing the little things that his brothers might have missed. The way you shifted your weight when you were nervous. The little treats you sometimes snuck from the kitchen in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep. How you always scrunched up your nose when you were dealing with a particularly difficult homework assignment.

There were so many things that Satan wanted to say to you and found for once he didn't have the words. What could he say to someone like you? A human who not only made pacts with the seven demon lords, but also became part of their family? Someone who was so impressive with their magical skill that Solomon himself had taken them on as his apprentice? A person who didn't just fit in with angels and demons and sorcerers, but was respected by them, too.

And then there would be times when Satan would remember that you were only human. He might catch you getting frustrated over a spell that you couldn't get right. He might see you suppress a wince when someone was rude to you. He might hear you swear under your breath when you made a mistake.

These things didn't make him think any less of you. They served as reminders that despite everything, you needed help sometimes, too.

It was in these moments that Satan found himself able to distract you. He went out of his way to cheer you up, bringing you to a cat cafe or giving you a particularly good book about something that he knew you were interested in.

Every time he did this, you would smile at him, even if you were in a bad mood, and the way your eyes went soft and fond made his heart melt.

You looked at him as though just seeing his face made things a little easier for you.

For a while, Satan was content to offer you these small comforts when it seemed as though you needed them. He wondered sometimes if you would ever seek him out for comfort on your own. If you noticed the way he was always there to lift your spirits when you were down.

There were several days when you seemed to be struggling, overwhelmed with all of the responsibilities that you had accumulated. Not only did you have all of his brothers to deal with, but you were now also a sorcerer and a student council member. You were studying with Solomon and doing student council work on top of your RAD studies.

Satan could see that it was starting to get to you. There were dark circles beneath your eyes and an almost vacant expression on your face. You moved through each day as though you were doing it only by memory.

One night you sat at dinner, eating woodenly, participating in the conversation with only one or two word sentences. Satan wasn't sure if the others had picked up on your mood, but if they had they weren't acting differently because of it.

After dinner, you went straight to your room, closing the door behind you without saying anything to anyone. Everyone else dispersed for the evening.

Satan paced in his own room for nearly half an hour before he decided to be direct with you. Normally, he would bring you something he knew you liked or maybe ask you to go somewhere nice with him. But it was different this time. You were hurting in a way he had never seen before. And it made him angry.

Satan left his room, striding purposefully down the hall to your door. He tamped down on that anger and knocked.

You opened the door for him and the sight of you standing there with your hollow eyes made him feel completely shattered.

"MC," he said. "Can I come in?"

You shrugged and moved aside.

Satan entered your room, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him blandly. "Is there a problem?"

Satan felt a burning within him and he fought to keep it from bursting out. "Yes. The problem is you."

You blinked and then frowned, the most expression he'd seen from you all day. "Me? What did I do?"

"Do you think I haven't noticed?" Satan asked. "You aren't sleeping. You're barely making it through the day. You're distant with everyone and there's this… emptiness in your eyes."

You stared at him for a moment in surprise before the frown returned. "I have too much work to do to worry about anything else. So if you only came here to get on my case about sleeping or my attitude, just leave."

Satan felt his anger spike and though he tried to stop himself, he couldn't. "You think I'm here to scold you? MC, I'm worried about you."

You threw up your hands. "And on top of everything else I have to do, you want me to fix that, too? I'm always the one who has to take care of everything because you all rely on me so much! Every day is full of something that needs my attention and it feels like everyone just expects me to do everything like it's no problem! Like I'm the only one who can! So I just keep going and going and even though I'm surrounded by people, I still feel so alone!"

Your voice broke on the last word and you realized you had been unloading, almost yelling. You covered your mouth and turned away from Satan.

Satan put his hands on your arms. He felt you shaking beneath his touch. "You're not alone. You never were."

Gently, Satan turned you around to face him. He took the hand that was covering your mouth in one of his, then used his other hand to lift your chin.

"I've always been here, MC," he said. "Since the very beginning, I've been looking out for you. I'm here because I want to help you. Won't you let me?"

Satan watched as your eyes filled with tears. The feeling roiling through his chest was unpleasant, but for once it wasn't anger.

To Satan's complete relief, you suddenly tumbled into him, pressing your face to his chest and wrapping your arms around him. He carefully held you in his embrace, pressing his cheek to your head.

The two of you stayed that way for some time before you took in a shaky breath and said, "I'm sorry, Satan."

Satan kissed your forehead. "It's all right. Just let me help you."

You pulled away a little to look at him. The remnants of shiny trails of tears were visible on your cheeks, though you were no longer crying. "You already have."

There was a light in your eyes again, one Satan hadn't seen in some time. You surprised him by kissing him, the warmth of your lips creating a heat in his heart that was unlike anything anger had ever sparked in him.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #satan x reader #satan x mc #satan obey me #omswd #omswd x reader #misc 1k event #misc writes

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loserdiaz · 1 year

Note

16. someone's pulling a gun and you're jumping in the middle of it

If it sparks joy ☺️❤️

so i was in an angsty mood, hope you like it <3

They weren't at a call, they weren't supposed to face danger that day.

It's all Buck can think about as he stares down the barrel of a gun.

It's their day off and Buck had plans, alright? This was supposed to be the perfect day.

The perfect first date.

The restaurant is really fancy, with the most expensive wine that Buck has ever seen and all the tables looked like straight out of a historical movie or some shit like that. The menu is full of weird names, half of which Buck can't even pronounce.

But it's his first date with Eddie and he wants it to be just perfect. A night neither of them would ever forget.

He wants to show Eddie he made the right choice when he gave Buck a chance.

There's classic music playing in the background, the sound of piano and violins floating through the air and making Buck relax in his seat.

And then— there's a loud crash, one of the windows at the front of the restaurant breaking and pieces of glass flying everywhere.

For a second, Buck doesn't know what's going on. For a second he's just confused.

And then—

"Nobody move! I said nobody fucking move! A man in a mask is carrying a gun. His movements are erratic and fast, almost maniac.

Buck's heart clenches inside his heart.

Eddie makes a sound and then he's standing up. Because of course he is, Buck thinks— remembers the way Eddie didn't even flinch that time they were taken hostages by the prison guy.

"Eddie." He mutters, as low as he can as to not catch any unwanted attention.

It doesn't work.

"I said nobody fucking move!" The man yells and Buck— Buck watches as the gun is pointed towards Eddie.

The sense of deja vu pooling in his stomach is sickening and he wants to throw up.

No.

Not again.

Buck moves before he can think twice about it, jumping over the table and placing his body in front of Eddie's, like some kind of human armor.

There's a loud gunshot, but the choked desperate sound that Eddie makes on the back of his throat might be even louder.

Buck feels himself falling to the ground and then Eddie's face is above his.

"Evan! What did you do? What have you—" Eddie is frantic, his hands shaking and hovering above Buck's body.

He frowns.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Buck asks.

Was Eddie shot?

Please God, not again. Buck can't go through that again.

"W-what?" Eddie laughs, but it's sharp and bitter and there's not a trace of humor in it. It's hysterical if anything. "No, I wasn't shot. You got in the way of the bullet, you idiot." He choked out and he's— He's crying.

Eddie never cries.

The last time Eddie cried he was broken and on the floor, hugging a baseball bat.

That was two years ago.

"E-eddie?"

And oh.

Eddie presses down on his abdomen and Buck feels it.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Just— Don't talk. Don't— Hold on for me." Eddie says, his voice trembling and his tears falling down his cheeks and into Buck's face.

Buck mouths something with trembling lips but no sound comes out— just a garbled noise.

Buck can taste the blood. His own blood.

Well, that's not good.

There's a lot of background noise, screams and orders being yelled but none of that matters.

If Buck dies right there, he'll do it as he stares at Eddie.

"Hold on for me, baby. Please. Please." Eddie is begging above him and Buck wants to listen to him.

But he's so tired.

A weak hand comes up and reaches for Eddie, his thumb caressing that beauty mark under his eye that Buck loves so much.

He leaves a trace of blood in its wake and that's—

He tainted Eddie.

Buck wants to apologize but he can't speak. He can't breathe.

"You have to stay awake, baby, okay?" Eddie is saying above him. "You have to hold on for me. So then you can take me on another first date— no offense but this one really fucking sucked." Eddie lets out a wet chuckle. "So we won't count this one. We'll go on another one and that one will be our first, alright? And then you'll have to take me on a second one. And a third one." Eddie says and Buck thinks that sounds like a good plan.

He likes the way Eddie thinks.

"Stay awake, Buck! Don't close your eyes." Eddie pats his cheeks a couple times and Buck's eyes flutter but he fights against uncociousness.

"W-what else?" He asks weakly, his words slurring and dragging and he's not sure if Eddie understood any of that.

But of course he did.

"W-what else?" Eddie's voice breaks but he has this small smile etched ln his face, fond and quiet and just a little sad at the edges. "Well, we'll have to let the team know about us... eventually. They all will be happy, of course. Hen will order a cake and they'll throw a ridiculous party but it'll be fun." Eddie's hand keep pressing against Buck's wound but he can barely feel it.

It doesn't really hurt.

That's really bad, isn't it?

"And then you'll move in. In a couple of months." Eddie keeps talking. "Is it too soon to talk about that? I don't think it is. We've known each other for years and this— this was inevitable, right? At least for me." Eddie's lower lip trembles. "Since the moment you shook my hand in the back of an ambulance and promised to have my back? It was a fone deal for me. I knew I would love you. I knew you would ruin me for anyone else."

Buck smiles, or at least he tries to. He's not sure if he pulls it off.

"Ditto." He rasps out, low and weak but he thinks Eddie hears it anyway by the way his eyes soften.

And then the darkness wins and Buck closes his eyes.

He wakes up in the back of an ambulance with his hand in between Eddie's. There's paramedics working around him but Buck doesn't care.

He keeps his eyes on Eddie.

His hair is a mess and his brown warm eyes are puffy and red around the edges. His clothes are stained red with blood and there's a trace of it on his cheek.

He looks��

Awful, Buck thinks. Eddie's skin is pale and ashen and the fluorescent lights of the ambulance aren't doing him any favors either.

And yet— it's the most beautiful thing that Buck has ever seen.

"Hey." He chokes out, the oxygen mask resting uncomfortably against his face and making forming words a little difficult.

Eddie grins, relieved and so soft, tender and adoring. "Hey."

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farfromstrange · 1 year

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hi can i request for angst w no comfort, matt murdock fic wherein the reader died i like angst 🥲, specially your work "angel on the roof" thank you !!!

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! I was so excited (that sounds horrible in this context) when I saw it and I was even more excited when I read what you requested (Yeah, it still sounds horrible). Angst is my forte, and I've really been in an angsty mood lately. So, I wrote this in two hours and I cried while writing it. I hope you like it! (And I also hope you're doing okay, sweetheart.) This is not about suicide like the other hurt/no comfort fic, but it still hurts the same. I hope I could live up to your expectations!

Back To December | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: He fell for you hard and fast, but all good things eventually slip through Matt Murdock's fingers, and he is left alone all over again.

Warnings: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, Character death, mentions of blood, there's a really creepy guy at the beginning (but no sexual assault!), yeah this is just angsty as fuck

Word Count: 3.2k (I got carried away)

It’s a cold December afternoon. The remains of this week’s snowfall are covering the ground and it’s cold, so cold, but he can barely feel it. Something else, something colder, something far more painful is creeping up his spine. It’s not because his clothes are soaked or the snowflakes that have latched onto his hair. He feels as if the floor has been ripped out under his feet, and it has been a long time since he last felt this way. Loneliness has become his closest companion over time and he got used to always losing and hardly ever winning. Over time, he got used to grieving, he got used to being left, and he got used to a painful hollowness in his chest that eventually started to occur more often. The hole in his chest has always been there, but merely a few days ago it had been somewhat filled.

Matt Murdock has never experienced much happiness in his life. He tried to fight the demons in his head, but eventually, he succumbed to them. He succumbed to the claws that tore at his chest and dragged him down into an endless abyss. He used to associate the color gray with his life because when he thought about it, there has never been much color. He got used to existing rather than living until someone stepped into his life that was anything but dreary.

It was in summer, he remembers, the third of July when he was walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen on his way home from work. The noise of the city moved into the back of his mind as he tried to focus on anything but the deafening sound of injustice and everyday life. They often blurred together and mixed when he wasn’t focusing, and sometimes that was worse than when he purposely focused on his surroundings.

He was just casually walking when he heard the distinctive fast sound of footsteps straight ahead. He tilted his head curiously, not sure if it was just another teenager playing tag with their friends in the middle of the night or someone walking fast, or perhaps someone who needed his help. It was then he stretched his senses out to judge the situation, but by the time he focused on the erratic heartbeat coming his way, the person who it belonged to already stood in front of him.

It was the third of July, he knows, when you came into his life.

You were just walking home from work when a man emerged from behind one of the cars parked along the street of the shop you were working at. You had closed early, which was rare but not impossible, especially not with the heat so heavy that no one wanted to set foot outside. Even with air conditioning, you felt like dying every time you went to work.

You tried not to think too much about the stranger, your keys already clutched tightly in your hand, but when you sped up, the man sped up too. It was then your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You were a terrible fighter and would have broken your thumb before you could have caused any serious damage, so instead, you ran. You ran until the streets got lighter and finally, God finally, someone else walked the street you were on.

Not paying much mind to who the stranger was, you stopped right in front of him. Your hand caught his sleeve - you felt guilty because well, if the glasses hadn’t been an indicator, his cane surely was, and using a blind guy to get out of being mugged or God forbid, possibly even raped, felt wrong but he seemed like the kind of guy that wouldn’t mind helping. It was something about him that made you feel safe, almost.

“I need you to pretend we know each other,” you said entirely out of breath, one of your sweaty strands of hair caught on your dry lips.

He frowned, tilting his head in the direction of the other man’s steps and he realized just what you were running from.

“Please,” you begged, and he could only imagine the panic in your eyes.

He licked his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, just- oh, for fuck’s sake! Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?” Matt stammered. He thought of many things, one of them being completely screwing his disguise and beating whoever was following you into a puddle until he couldn’t walk anymore, but your request was… odd and a complete surprise, at that.

The more he thought about it though, it made sense. The man would only ease up if he saw Matt as your boyfriend and not a strange blind guy.

You looked at him expectantly and the closer the man behind you came, the faster your heart beat. If he wasn’t willing to help you, you would have to run again.

Fortunately, he caught himself fast enough to pull you in by the waist - his strength surprised you - and pressed his lips to yours. That he would do it, you never expected. It had been a weird request, of course, but the only thing you thought of that would make a possible rapist turn the other way.

You caught yourself on his arms, leaning into the kiss as if it were real, and partly it felt like it. He was an amazing kisser, you noticed, and if this had been a date you would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but the only thought in your mind was getting rid of the man that was following you. Or had been following you, anyway, because upon seeing the kiss that looked more realistic than it was, he stopped and turned back around.

When the stranger pulled away, you forgot how to breathe for a second. Your cheeks flushed, the blood rushing to your head immediately, and you pressed a hand in front of your mouth. Matt thought it was cute, although he had to contain himself from hunting down the man that even led you to make such a rash decision in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact that he was blind that made you believe he was on the good side, and the kiss seemed to have saved your ass, which he was glad about because fighting someone right in front of the eyes of an unknown stranger was not on his to-do list. The kiss hadn’t been either, but it had already happened and the awkward silence made matters worse.

Your breath hitched in your throat again. “I’m so sorry,” you said, muffled through your hand.

“Um,” Matt forgot how to speak.

“I just wasn’t sure what to do and you know, most men don’t take no for an answer and I thought- God, I am so sorry. You probably think I’m a psycho now.”

He quickly caught himself again. “Oh, no. No, I absolutely don’t think that,” he said. “I was just… surprised?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“You were scared, I understand.”

“I really didn’t know what else to do.”

It was the truth, and the more he spoke to you, the more he realized your heartrate was going down. You were safe.

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “Okay, I should probably go. Nice meeting you. I’m just gonna-” as you distanced yourself, you pointed behind yourself in the direction you were originally headed, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go.”

“Wait,” Matt heard himself object to your attempt to leave.

You halted, surprised he would even want to talk to you after what happened. A small smile rested on his lips. The same lips you had just kissed.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The first time he heard your name was on July third, the night dark and hot, and it was the same night you kissed him for the first time. It was a kiss out of desperation, a way to save yourself from the grabby hands of a stranger, and yet, when he asked for your name, he received an answer.

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself.

July third was the day you came into his life and from then on, you refused to leave. His senses got used to your scent, your taste, and the feel of your skin under his fingers when he had first kissed you. His ears got used to the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your name on his tongue became natural.

One meeting turned into two and eventually, only a month after, in fact, he realized he had done the one thing he never expected himself to do ever again: he fell for you. He fell fast and hard, the first tint of color in his dull life, and the pain in his chest got a little more bearable with you by his side. You became the light in the darkness, the one person he could always turn to, and when you found out who he was - who the man behind the black mask was, you didn’t run.

You found out one night when you used your key to get into his apartment. He hadn’t answered any of your calls and he felt guilty, but then you stood in his apartment just as he walked through the door. He had a huge gash on his side and he was sure he wouldn’t make it to the couch in time. When he heard your heartbeat and the way it jumped when you saw him, he was sure death would be kinder than having to listen to you leaving, but the anticipated moment of rejection never came.

The light of his life stayed. You had dropped everything to hold him up. You patched him up and you held him as he writhed in pain, and when he was finally patched up and safe, he caught your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked him.

He hissed, not sure if it was because of emotional or physical pain, but perhaps both. You sounded small, worried almost, but the sound of your heartbeat was the most familiar to him and so he knew that you weren’t scared, you were merely curious.

And that was when he knew that he had fallen head over heels in love with you.

“I wanted to protect you,” he said.

The thought of losing you had been his greatest fear. You were the color he desperately needed, the reason for him to keep going. He thought that, with your help, he could make it. He thought his life could finally be normal.

But even the most beautiful of flowers die eventually. It’s a slow death, usually, a constant process of withering. With you though, it was fast and it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. You weren’t a flower, you were human and he realized that too late one night.

On July third, he swore to protect you, always. He swore to save you, to hold you and take care of you until his dying breath. On the third of December though, his worst fear became reality, and suddenly, the tint of color in his life was flickering like the billboard outside of his apartment that you had often complimented. The tint of color in his life, the beautiful flower, the light that kept him going, stood right in front of him and he barely had the time to open his mouth when the shot rang out.

Why did you have to follow him, anyway? You were foolish but you had been so worried, you stormed out of your apartment, determined to find him. The rooftop you finally found him on was dark just like his life had been before you.

You were so relieved to see him alive, you didn’t notice the dark shadow on the floor or the clinging of metal that filled the air. “Matt!” you called out, but his mouth opened and instead of words, you could hear the faint blow of a gun.

The shot rang out and for a moment you thought it hit him. For a moment, you were worried, and then the sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you knew, the shot wasn’t meant for him.

His arms caught you as you fell. Matt wasn’t sure what was worse, the feeling of your blood running through his fingers as he pushed on the gaping wound on your abdomen or the erratic sound of your fading heartbeat as it tried its best to beat for you, to supply your body with blood, but it couldn’t pump so fast as to catch up with the speed you were losing it again.

“Matt-” you smiled when you saw his face. “You’re safe,” you said. “I thought you weren’t safe.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he told you, and he tried hard not to sob - your heart had become his favorite song, a symphony that was unique in itself, but now it was running out like a broken record. The sand in the hourglass ran faster than he could catch you.

You choked. The missing fear in your voice told him that you knew. Oh, you knew you weren’t going to make it.

“You foolish, foolish- Jesus,” he bent over you, his hand still tightly pressed against your abdomen, but the sharp pain you had felt was gone. You just felt numb now. “I told you to stay home,” he said. His voice cracked at the end because now even he knew, deep down, that you weren’t going to make it out of this.

And he had just found you. It didn’t seem fair.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “I was just-” you coughed again, and he could taste the copper in the air from where it ran down the corner of your mouth. “I was worried,” you breathed.

He shushed you again. “It’s okay,” the first tear descended his cheek and met with yours, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you out of here and fixed up, okay? Hey-” Your eyes drooped, but he held your face with such force, you felt compelled to open them again, but you were tired. Oh, you were so tired.

It was your time to tell him, “It’s okay.”

Your body was wracked with a terrible wave of shivers and even though he was holding you tightly to his chest, his body was just cold air to you. Everything was cold.

“No, don’t close your eyes! You have to stay with me, sweetie, okay? Just a little longer.”

“I can’t.” And he knew you couldn’t.

“You don’t get to do that, not yet. It’s not time yet. We have so much-” he grunted in the back of his throat. “Remember you told me about the pyramids in Egypt? You wanted to go there,” he said, and at this point, he was crying more than he was smiling. “So you have to stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me, baby.”

You reached out your weak hand, touching his cheek. There was blood on your fingers and it smeared on his cheekbone. Your touch was cold. You used to be so warm and now you were simply cold, and your heartbeat turned into tiny beats after another.

“We both know I’m not gonna make it,” you said with all the strength you had left.

“No,” he was determined, “Don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Matthew-” the call of his full name was almost unfamiliar. “Matthew, listen. Listen to my heart.”

“I am, baby, and it is still beating, that means there is still time. I can save you. I can-”

“No, you don’t understand,” you said. Your hand moved from his cheek to the left side of his chest. “I’m always going to be here.”

“Stop,” he sobbed. “God, don’t do this to me. You can’t do this. You have to hold on.”

“It’s time,” you said.

“No, baby, please-”

“It’s time for me to go, Matthew.”

“No.”

Your hand dropped, your muscles too weak to hold your body up anymore. Thud, thud, thud. He focused on your heartbeat, but he soon realized that it wasn’t yours, it was his. His own heartbeat was louder than yours, but it had the same beat, it played to the same rhythm as yours. Your bodies aligned, but the blood, oh the blood. Your scent was overshadowed by the smell and the taste of pure blood and it made him sick.

“I-” you choked again, but the sentence you wanted to say needed to be said, no matter how strong those claws were that were just waiting to pull you underwater. “I love you,” your voice broke like fragile glass upon impact, “and I always will.”

His forehead fell against yours. You were so cold. Matt held you, he held you to keep you warm, but you were getting colder by the minute and your blood seeped through his fingers, through his shirt, and that was when he realized.

“No,” he desperately felt for your heart, but the familiar melody was gone. He couldn’t feel you, he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t smell you. He could only hold your limp body as the life left your body and your soul with you.

On December third, you died in his arms. On December third, he had to deliver your body to the hospital, but you were long gone when they found you. He knew you were gone, but he had held you for a while longer, trying to find the life inside of you, trying to keep his hope alive, but on December third, you died, and with you, all the color in his life faded into the darkest of blacks.

Matt Murdock remembers the day he met you and he remembers the day you died. As he is standing over your grave now, the snow feels numb on his soaked clothes. What is creeping up his spine is worse than the cold of December. The pain of losing you is colder than snow, it’s colder than anything he has ever felt before. The cold has crept into his heart and frozen whatever life had been left inside of him. You died and he couldn’t save you. He had to bury you because he just couldn’t save you.

You were the light of his life and Matt lost that, too, like he has lost everything in his life. It's then he truly starts to believe that everything he touches is supposed to rot and die. Everything he has ever touched, no matter how beautiful, has turned ugly, dark, and gray, and then eventually, dead. Cold, dark, and dead.

You were an explosion of wonderful colors but now you were gray, just like his life. A gray stone on the cemetery behind Clinton Church, your body cold, your blood branded into his skin and he cries. He stands at your grave and cries because you’re still in his head, you’re still in his heart, and it kills him that a memory is all he has left of you. He longs to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you like he had many times before, but you’re gone.

His sweater smells of your perfume, his sheets smell of your bodywash and your essence still lingers in the air of his apartment, no matter how many times he opens a window, and then there is your name that suddenly everyone seems to have. He searches for you when it rings out, but you’re not there.

On December third, you died, and with your memory lingering everywhere, he would go back to December all the time. And it breaks him to know you’re not there.

#tw: death #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #hurt/no comfort #matt murdock angst #this is pure pain #request <3

139 notes · View notes

inkrabbit · 2 years

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Sodo x reader where she questions her life and leaves the church, like super angsty leaving sodo behind without telling him, because she knows if she did she would stay and she has to put herself first. When he finds out he loses it and chases after her, but can’t find her. Years later she’s at a concert and he smells her, and it’s like la la land <3 kinda like similar to what I had to do with an ex and I need comfort :(

dunno how I feel about this one either, but I hope it's good <333

“Hey. You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah. Why?”

“You just… look kinda out of it.”

He knew something wasn’t right. He could tell by the way you had that distant look in your eyes. You started to slow down during your duties and you became less and less involved in activities. Not only that, but you even started to avoid the ghouls. Aether had tried to talk to you a few times, but you would just tell him everything was fine and walk away.

He supposed he should’ve seen the signs. The strained smiles you gave him. How your affection towards him became less and less. He wondered if you knew how much it killed him. How he thought he had done something to make you resent him. How he missed your hugs and gentle kisses. Anytime he tried to initiate something, you always seemed to find an excuse to pull back from him.

He didn’t know you would’ve gotten so bad to the point where you left. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night to his bed empty. At first, he thought you had just gotten up to go do something. But then he noticed how faded your scent was and he woke right up. The drawers on his dresser were open and, upon closer inspection, he noticed that all of your belongings were gone. He felt sick, running out of his room half-naked and nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Sodo?” Aether had groggily come out of his room, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “What’s wrong? Do you know how late it is?” When he sees the panicked expression on his face, it wakes him up a little more. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Sodo grabs the larger ghoul and drags him out of the dens, explaining how your things were gone and your scent was fading. They stopped at your room first, and his heart dropped when you weren’t in there either. So they made their way throughout the rest of the abbey, desperately trying to follow your scent through the air. But you never turned up, and the poor fire ghoul finally broke. His body trembled as Aether held him in his arms, softly shushing him.

“Jag förstår inte…” he whimpers into the other ghoul’s shoulder. “Vad gjorde jag för fel?”

The night is still prominent in his mind. The clergy had forgotten all about you, as instructed by Sister Imperator. You turned your back on them. They wouldn’t mourn their loss of you. But he did. From the first second he was summoned, he was hellbent on making you his mate. And he had gotten so close. Was that it? Did you just not want to be that close with him?

Everyone picked up on how irritable he was. Aether had tried talking him down multiple times, but it only worsened his mood. He didn’t mean to snap at him. He didn’t mean to snap at anyone. He just couldn’t get over his grief, so he transformed it into rage. It was easier to deal with.

But then the tour came and they all took their positions on stage. He loves seeing the crowd. He loves hearing them cheer for them, excited to see the show. But that’s when it hits him. The old, familiar scent of you that has him trying to regain his balance after a dizzy spell. Every emotion he’s bottled up comes crashing back down and his throat closes up. He hears Cumulus call out to him, her own scent thick with worry. He casually makes his way back to her, getting as close as he can so he can hear her over the screaming crowd.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asks him. “You doing okay?”

“I dunno if I can do this,” he confesses. “Cumulus, she’s here. I can smell her and-”

“Pull it together,” Cirrus cuts in. “Hold out just for this show, okay? We know you can do it.”

“Do you wanna talk to her, honey?” He takes a moment before nodding. “Then call her back to your room after the show. If she shows up, maybe you can get your answers. If not, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Don’t make it hurt any less.” But he does as he’s told, moving back to his position. Copia eyes him when he comes onto the stage, no doubt having seen his exchange with the ghoulettes. He’d tell him after the show.

And all throughout, he’s scanning the crowd. Every single face as he follows your scent. You’re somewhere by his position, he knows that. And while he interacts with the crowd, he looks at every single person there is. The screaming, adoring fans who sing along with the music and shower him with praise. Normally, it would’ve made his heart melt seeing them. But tonight, none of them matter. Only you do. Your sweet scent is driving him crazy.

That’s when he sees you, among the sea of people. You’re staring right at him, a sad smile on your face. He plucks at a few wrong cords but he quickly corrects himself. He can feel Copia’s mismatched eyes staring at him as his whole being burns with embarrassment, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He sees you mouth a soft “hello” to him and the first second he gets, he raises his hand to wave at you. Of course, there are other fans in the crowd who squeal and wave back, but you two know who it was really intended for.

For the rest of the show, he has to physically pull himself away from his spot to go through what they had rehearsed. The guitar battle, his interactions with Aether. The larger ghoul had pulled him into a tight hug, one that helps put him at ease.

“I can smell her, too,” he assures him softly. “You’re doing great. Keep it up.”

It makes him feel better, but it also makes his throat close up again. He just wants the show to end. He wants the cheering to stop. He wants the singing to stop. He just wants to be in your arms. He wants you to tell him everything will be okay and you’re his again.

When the show finally is over, Sodo goes over to one of the security guards, giving him your description and asking that they send you back to his room. It feels like a long shot, but it’s still worth trying. He just hoped that you would accept and give him some sort of closure.

Copia catches him before he can make it to his room and ushers him to a more secluded spot, his voice hushed.

“What is with you tonight, mio amico?” he asks, brows furrowed as he looks him over. “You’ve never been so… unfocused. What has gotten into you?”

“Papa, please.” He can feel himself starting to lose his human form. “My mate-” It just slips out and he doesn’t mean to. “She’s here, Papa. Let me talk to her? Please?”

“I…” He seems like he’s at a loss, his mouth hanging open. Sodo whines softly as he looks behind him. His horns are starting to grow and he tries to stop them, the tips poking at the balaclava and becoming uncomfortable. “Okay. If it’ll make you feel better.” He tries to move past the old man, but Copia grabs his arm. “Just be careful, mio amico. Humans are ah… fragile. If she doesn’t give you the response you’re looking for, just accept it, okay?”

“Will do, Papa.” He breaks away from him, rushing towards his room. But he stops outside of his closed door. Your scent. It’s so strong now and it makes him dizzy again. He can’t take it. He takes his mask and balaclava off, breathing heavily as he tries to calm himself. With a deep inhale, he finally opens his door.

There you are, sitting on his couch and casually looking around. His feet move before he even recognizes it, and you let out a squeal when his arms wrap around you, picking you up and off of the couch so he can hold you. His face buries in your neck and he’s relieved when he notes that it’s only you he smells. No one else.

“I’ve missed you.” It’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth as he finally pulls back, looking you over. You look good and he notices how that light has returned to your eyes. The light he had assumed that had gone out because of him. “I was so scared when you left that night. Was it something I did? Did I upset you?”

“No. Sodo, no. I just…” You take a deep breath, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek. He melts against your touch. He didn’t realize just how desperately he had missed this. “I wasn’t happy with the clergy. It wasn’t for me and I had to leave.”

“So why didn’t you take me with you?”

#requests #sodo #sodo ghoul #f!reader #ghost #ghost band

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oh-surprise-its-me · 7 months

Note

in such an. angsty mood. trio angst over love language clashing ✨communication✨

angsty tears and frustration and feeling unloved but its so ooc for them theyre so cute

- f<33

Oh boy…

Honestly not necessarily ooc it could very easily happen very early on in their relationship…. Tom very much got concerned he was forcing Chris into loving him. (Idiot thought considering Chris was like *point* you two can fuck your issues out on the boat I trust Tom. Which of course turned into “I want both right now. Tom AND Ron. Come here you idiots I love you both.”)

Anyways! You are not living up to your name 🤨 bad fluffy. Phanie is supposed to be the evil one here. Not the little cute creature I brought home and named fluffy 🤨 good thing I love you and love writing for you MWAH.

—

Tom felt like he was going to start crying and never stop. He can’t keep watching Chris and Ron. He can’t do it. He feels like he is going to throw up. He can’t he can’t he can’t he-

The screen door bangs closed causing him to jump. “Tommy?” Chris is suddenly next to him. He’s got that dumb cat wrapped up in a sweater. Tom sniffs. Didn’t even realize he had actually started crying. “Hey Chris. I can go. Sorry. I’ll head to New York. See mom for a while.”

Chris stares at him. He stands back up. Oh. Tom blinks as the tears roll down his face. Tom hears the door slam again. He’s alone. He knew it. It’s fine. Ron is happy. That’s what matters most.

Suddenly there’s arms around him. He jolts but quickly realizes it’s Chris. Chris is crying along with him. Fuck. He made Chris cry. “Hey? Bab- Chris are you okay?”

Chris only holds on tighter. “Why are you leaving us? Why now?” He hiccups into a sob. Tom whips his head around to look at Chris. He looks wreaked. “I? We- uh- god Chris. I don’t want to leave.”

“So don’t leave us then yeah Tommy?”

Tom’s head jerks around to see Ron standing behind them silently crying.

Fuck.

“Well you two? And I’m here. Feels like I’m forcing it. And I just don’t want to hurt you two. It’s great to try but we can’t. You can’t do that to yourselves.”

Chris bites him as hard as he can. Tom instinctively smacks Chris’s leg before gasping. “Ow! What the fuck Chris?” Chris smacks his leg back and hugs him even tighter. “For being fucking stupid. When have I ever done something because someone forced me to.”

Tom opens his mouth but is cut off quickly by Ron. “Never. And I’ve never stopped loving you Tommy. I still see that 14 year old kid that I fell in love with. You’re ours. Just accept it yeah?” Tom shakes. Not in fear but in shock. Ron sits on the steps next to him. He’s suddenly wrapped in both of their arms. Oh god he was stupid.

“You two care about me? In the way that you care about each other.” Chris laughs. It’s not an actual laugh. More of the is that even a question laugh. Chris grabs Tom’s face and makes him look in his eyes. “I love you. I love Ron. I love both of you. Nothing is going to change that. You’re mine as long as you want to be Tom.”

The tears are back. Tom feels Ron press his face into his shoulder. “I love you both. Can’t live without either of you. Love you Tommy. And I love Chris. I need both of you.”

Tom opens his mouth and shuts it again. He can’t believe he got so lucky. “I love you too. Both of you. Course I’ll be yours Chris. I can’t live without you either Ron.” They’re all crying now. It can’t be helped.

Too much emotion in too short of a time. Top gun was only two weeks ago. Only two weeks since Chris grabbed him and kissed him. Told him he wanted them both. Tom couldn’t believe his luck, he assumed it was for only that first few nights. But as it kept going it kept feeling more real.

Clearly Tom is a bit of an idiot because it is real. They love him. He loves them. Nothing is going to change that. God his mom and sister are going to be happy for them.

That night Tom is in the middle of the bed. Chris is almost fully on top of him, Ron is curled so tightly around him that he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Tom doesn’t think he’s ever going to want to leave again though.

#ron slider kerner #chris seresin #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #tom x ron x chris #ron x chris x tom #Tom has anxiety #oh Tommy the adorable idiot of course they love you #mac writes top gun #the anon fluffy

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ravenpuffheadcanons · 9 months

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I saw your book recommendations and came here to say: I love The Doomsday Book. I also have similar mixed feelings re: Willis, but that book is incredible and makes me cry every time. I had to reread it in 2021 for my grad degree because I had chosen it on my booklist, and suffice it to say I found that very disturbing to read in the middle of a pandemic of my own!

I also saw your tag about a Crosstalk AU for Fitzsimmons, and oh my goodness, be still my heart! 😍 That would be utter perfection. Indeed the whole “I have ESP but not with the person I expect” thing has preyed on me since I first read that book (in the best way). I’ve thought about a similar AU for Alison and Declan (from Sanditon). But I have a love/hate relationship with that book… I am obsessed with some parts, and I get really fired up about others. Why do think it gets to us so much?

Did you ever read Willis’s book To Say Nothing of the Dog? I tried, but I couldn’t get very far… I’m afraid I love her *and* sometimes she very much gets under my skin.

Okay, last thought… have you ever read her novels Fire Watch? I think of it as a love story for history lovers and it never fails to make me cry.

Sorry this got so long!!! Love reading your thoughts either way.

The Doomsday Book makes me cry every time I read it too, even though I *know* what’s coming (good and bad). I love love love the mix of triumph and tragedy all tangled up together at the end - so beautifully done. The first time I read it, I started it at around midnight on a work night because I couldn’t sleep, intending to read a chapter or two until I nodded off. Instead I read it through in a single sitting and then somehow had to go to work, even though a) I’d been awake that night and b) I had been weeping copiously through most of the final 100 pages. I couldn’t bring myself to read it during the worst of lockdown - I am impressed you managed it!

I love the basic premise of Crosstalk *so* much, but likewise I have a love/hate relationship with it. I think the characters in Willis’ books can often be extremely stupid for the sake of furthering the plot. I think that’s one of the things that most frustrates me about her work, because she’s capable of such great character work and then throws it all away. Would any adult really be daft enough to get experimental brain surgery at the insistence of her extremely demanding and needy new boyfriend, without even looking at the side effects? It’s very difficult to believe it! But by the end of the book I was won over in spite of myself.

I have a theory that The Doomsday Book was such a runaway success that she’s no longer being edited properly (aka the Late Career Agatha Christie Problem), because a lot of the problems with Crosstalk (and Blackout/All Clear) could be fixed by better editing. I think that’s part of why her work frustrates me, because the good stuff is *so* good and I feel almost like she’s being let down by a wider team.

I do really like Crosstalk as a basic premise for a Fitzsimmons story, though - if I can ever bring myself to get through a reread! I would probably try to start it with them in the emotional equivalent of early s2 - best friends, estranged following a traumatic accident that led to traumatic brain injury for Fitz. Jemma’s so keen to help him that she agrees to experimental neurosurgery with Milton because the findings of the EED study might help people with TBI - so Fitz feels like she thinks he’s so useless that she’s literally willing to undergo brain surgery rather than accept him as he is, while she of course feels guilty that she’s “fine” and badly wants to help relieve his pain. It feels like it would make for a good angsty set up! Can’t you just see Fitz as grumpy CB hiding in the basement of a building with pictures of Hedy Lamarr everywhere?

I really enjoyed To Say Nothing of the Dog, but I was in exactly the right mood for a silly romcom caper when I read it. I also really love that light, frothy late Victorian/early Edwardian comic writing style that she was trying to ape, and I think she (mostly) did it successfully. If I’d been in a different mood, I would have found all the random side characters walking on stage just to opine about the nature of history very annoying.

I haven’t read Fire Watch - thank you for the recommendation, I will give it a try!

Oh and Sanditon is on my list of programmes to try this autumn/winter, because it’s finally made it to a streaming service I actually have. I’m looking forward to it!

#roamingbadger #this answer got long too!#but glad to talk about my love and also mixed feelings for Connie Willis’ work #!!#crosstalk spoilers #doomsday book spoilers #(kind of)#connie willis #lou reads

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when-life-gives-you-lemons-if · 2 years

Note

Could you do a parallel scenario of the story where the mc shows up drunk and wet at Barlow's door in the middle of the night? Like, on the first date treated him badly and cursed him for cheating but then you confess that missed him?

Hmmm that sounds a little angsty and I don't do angst, sorry Anon, but if you don't mind spoilers, I can give you a glimpse of an actual scene that is supposed to happen if MC chose the ex and if the reason was cheating.

Slight spoilers!

For context, MC and Barlow are on the way to meet with some investors, (The reason for traveling will change based on what you tell Barlow to do with the project like staying private or partnering up with the government.

On this trip, Barlow is driving and MC is sitting in the passenger seat. The boss/coworker was also supposed to join that trip, but something came up and it's only MC and Barlow.

Scene:

The car makes a weird sound and suddenly smoke starts to come out from under the hood.

You quickly glance at Barlow, exchanging a concerned look.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Obviously, smoke," Barlow replies with a sharp tone.

Choice #"What the hell kind of answer is that?" #"Omg! Are we going to die? I can't die right now, I have a kid to take care of." #"I know it's smoke! That's why I am asking you!" #"This is not good!"

"Just calm down! It's just some smoke," Barlow snaps again.

They have been in a bad mood since the trip started, and you have a feeling of what it is all about.

From the way they've been acting lately, and especially after what happened the other night, there's no doubt that:

*if (ex) They want you back. *if (friend) They have feelings for you.

And all that bad mood is just them not knowing how to react when they are around you.

But the crazy thing is:

Choice: #You also have feelings for them. #You don't feel the same way. *selectable_if (cheat=true) #You love them too, but you can't let go of the past, of what they've done. *selectable_if (emotional drain=true) #You love them too, but you're unsure if they really changed. #You are still torn between feelings for them and feelings for(someone else).

"Did you hear what I said?"

Barlow's voice cut your train of thought. "No, what did you say?"

And for no reason at all Barlow lets out a loud grunt.

"Okay fine! Forget it. I'll do it myself."

Barlow pulls the car over and turns off the ignition.

(Note: there will be a gosub that takes you directly to the scenes for the ex option)

Before Barlow can get out of the car you turn to them:

Choice #"Don't you dare talk to me like that! Ever again!" #"Why you're acting like this? I genuinely didn't hear what you said." #"Barlow… I don't like it when you… when you act like this." #"Wait? Now it's suddenly my fault that you rented a car that can barely drive on the road?"

"I don't want to talk about it, MC. I'm just going to check under the hood, and see if we need to call roadside-assistance."

Choice #"Right! Let's never talk about this… just like when you cheated on me and ghosted me in high school." #"The way you're acting is seriously giving me flashbacks to high school." #"When will we ever talk about it, Barlow? Maybe for once, that's what we need to do." #"Fine! Let's never talk about it!"

Barlow gets out of the car, slams the door hard.

With the headlight of the car still on, you can see them standing by the road, and you have a clear view of their frustrated face.

Then they walk back to the car, opens the door and sits back inside next to you.

"Okay, let's talk about it," Barlow turns to you with their eyes almost pleading.

You sigh, thinking that this could be your only chance to say something about this particular topic.

Choice Choice1 #Give Barlow a piece of your mind. "I hate you... You cheated on me! We were together at prom and you decided to go do whatever it was with the twins Dominic and Dominik! Years later you walk back into my life, thinking that everything will be rainbows and sunshine and that we would pick up, right where we left off? NO! This is not how it works! You've hurt me…. and I've hated you for this… and I still don't know how to forgive you!

You finally stopped talking and hear Barlow take a deep breath next to you.

"You have all the right to hate me for this, and I don't deserve your forgiveness… but I have something to say," Barlow adds.

Choice2 #Don't bring up the past. What's done is done. "I have nothing to say," you reply, looking away.

"Well… I have something to say," Barlow adds.

They look at you straight in the eyes and go:

"MC... would you believe me if I say that... I..."

#wlgylemons #Barlow #slight spoilers

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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year

Text

London Rain

Season Two Episode Two

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 2303

Series Masterlist

Summary: In an attempt to settle both of their minds, Spencer takes the reader on a vacation to London. Aaron voices some concerns to Dave.

Notes: This season has a lot of darkness, so I wanted to work a little fluff in while I still could. It’s a little chaotic, but this episode is really just meant to be a moment of fun. (I promise after the angsty beginning, it will get cute) Also, I don’t know the actual location of anything in London so I’m doing my best.

Warings: Mentions of alcoholism, mild sexual content

Toothbrush? Check. Wallet? Check. Sticky Note reminding you to call Aaron when you landed? Check. Files to work on so you wouldn’t fall asleep on the plane? Check.

Spencer rested his head against the window beside you and you called over the flight attendant to see if you could get some coffee.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spence yawned.

You tucked a hair behind his ear. “I’ll be fine.”

Years in the BAU may have trained him to sleep on flights, but you didn’t want to risk what you would see, especially in a space with all of these people. They could all see you. They could watch your every jolt, hear your every whimper and gasping cry.

They would think you’re crazy.

Spencer’s hand rested on your knee until his fingers slipped away and his breathing steadied. You watched him for a moment- eyelashes fluttering, lips slightly parted, and jaw relaxed. His peacefulness surprised you. How long had he been on edge for your sake? The past few months, Spencer didn’t sleep until he was sure you’d fallen asleep first. He woke up in the middle of the night to comfort you from your nightmares, even if he had his own.

How could you not have seen it before, the toll being with you had taken on him?

“Here’s that coffee for you,” the flight attendant smiled.

You downed it quickly, the liquid burning down your throat. It was almost comforting. Familiar.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” She asked. “I can get you a drink menu, if you’d like?”

“Actually, that’d be-” It would be so easy. You could slip back into the relief you once knew. That wonderful numbness…

Spencer’s fingers twitched against your leg, his touch sending sparks of comfort, as well as guilt, up your spine. You looked at him again, a sleepy, crooked smile on his lips, and reminded yourself why you stopped.

You turned back to the flight attendant. “No thank you.”

She nodded and took her cart down the aisle.

The files in your lap gave you plenty to think about. With them, you could push the creeping craving to the back of your mind. As if pretending it wasn’t there would help you forget about it.

“Fog everywhere…” Spencer mumbled.

“What’s that?” You asked, eyes still on the case in your hand.

“Up the river… rolls defiled…”

Switching your attention, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sight alone helped to lighten your mood. Spencer was still sound asleep, but his lips moved slightly, breathing out words that you could barely hear. Slowly, you lifted his hand up to your lips and held it there for a moment, admiring your sleeping boyfriend’s beautiful serenity.

Only Spencer- your Spencer- would recite Dickens in his sleep.

“That sounds great,” Aaron smiled. You sounded genuinely excited, which made him a little less nervous about you being in a different country with everything going on. “Don’t forget to call in a few days or I’ll call Reid to see how you’re doing.”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed.

He switched the phone to his other ear and continued filling out the paperwork he’d been working on. “Just have fun, okay? You deserve some time off and so does he.”

A scuffle on the other end followed by Reid’s guiding voice interrupted you. “Hey, I have to go. I promise I’ll call, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. “Bye.”

Aaron hung up the phone and tried to put his worries to rest, at least for now. This trip was a good thing. You could clear your head for a while and Reid could spend more time with you.

One of the hardest things about their job was that they couldn’t be there for you through your recovery. The constant back and forth, having you stay with Haley because they were worried about you sleepwalking in the apartment alone, not being able to make sure whether or not you had been able to move on was hard on both of the men in your life.

“Did they get in okay?” Dave asked, never failing to appear in his doorway at the moments he needed him.

Aaron nodded. “They should be on their way to the hotel now.”

“Oh to be young and in love,” Dave mused, chuckling. “They’ve been together for how long now?”

“Almost a year.”

He took a seat across from Aaron’s desk with a smirk. “It has to be kind of weird right? I mean… It's Reid.”

Hotch shook his head. “I try not to think about it most of the time.”

Both laughed, but there was something about the way Aaron kept glancing at the phone or trying to distract himself by filling out another form.

“Alright,” Dave said. “What is it?”

Aaron glanced up at him, frowning.

“Is it about Reid’s outburst on the plane?” He asked. “I can’t blame the poor kid. How they’re handling all of this…” He blew out a breath.

Aaron set down his pen and ran a hand down his face. “That’s the thing,” he sighed. “They aren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Reid was right. Y/N is pretending everything is fine. She doesn’t want to interrupt our lives so she’s just forcing herself to suffer alone,” Aaron leaned back in his chair. “And, while I think Reid is trying his best, he’s so afraid of losing her that he won’t push her.”

Dave nodded. “I guess he isn’t really the ‘tough love’ type, huh?” He crossed his arms and watched his old friend carefully. “How do you know she isn’t getting better? It’s been a couple of months. Maybe she’s coming to terms with it on her own.”

“Because I know my sister,” Aaron said firmly. “I was there the first time. I know what her reassuring smiles really hide. She’s burying herself in work, she’s closing herself off to everyone who cares about her, and sooner or later, she is going to spiral and she’s going to try and do it alone.”

“I wonder where she picked that up from,” Dave pointed out.

Aaron’s face darkened, his restlessness telling on him. “Y/N killed Sarah Cunningham. She shot her point blank in the chest.”

“Mrs. Cunningham was going to get as many of us to inhale Strychnine as she could,” Dave reasoned. “It was self defense.”

“Y/N has been called a killer since she was fifteen.” Aaron’s eyes flicked over to the photograph on his desk of the two of you at your graduation. “Now she believes she is one. And to her… that makes her just like her mother.”

The thing that killed him the most is that he couldn’t just wrap you up and make you hot chocolate every time you had a nightmare like he did when you were young. He couldn’t convince you things would be okay simply because he was your big brother and he was in the FBI so he must know. When you were just fifteen and scared and he was the only one there for you.

You changed when you left for school. You didn’t ask for help anymore. You learned not to trust and you learned that being vulnerable with someone made you a target.

Now, Aaron feared that, in your attempts to protect the ones around you, you would tear yourself apart.

As much as you wanted to sit and enjoy the view from the hotel window, you could feel yourself starting to drift.

“I told you you should have slept on the plane,” Spencer teased, looking over yet another brochure.

“I’ll just have another coffee,” you shrugged. You cursed the yawn that escaped your mouth.

Spencer put his things aside and climbed up to the top of the bed. He patted the spot beside him.

“Spence, I told you, I’m fine.”

“And I am choosing to ignore you,” he said and adjusted the pillows. “Come on, I’m tired too.”

“This isn’t going to help with jetlag-”

“Do you want to cuddle with me or not?” His attempt at sounding firm made even him laugh. You exhaled and slid your suitcase under the desk before jumping into bed beside him. You both kicked off your shoes and you started giggling.

“Don’t you think those are a little… I don’t know, on the nose?” You snickered.

He followed your gaze down to his socks. The mismatched pair included images of a tiny Big Ben on one foot and a bunch of flying T.A.R.D.I.S’s on the other.

He pouted. “I think they’re fun.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, they are very fun,” you kissed his pouting lips, turning it into a smirk.

His fingers splayed over your cheek, urging you closer. Your hands went to his long, mousy hair and your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolled on top of you.

From his fingers tracing your skin to your lips on his neck, you let everything else fall into the sound of sighs. Hovering above yours, his eyes embraced every fear, every remorse, every desire to hide away.

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you didn’t dream.

All around you, people sat, creating a sun of studying and researching and just reading for fun. The environment invited you to escape into a world that wasn’t your own.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Each page pulled you further out of your mind and into the words. You’d almost forgotten the power of a good book, even in the nights snuggled next to Spencer as he read, you were always worried about seeming better, acting like you were better, pretending for his sake. Here, in this massive, beautiful library amongst scholars and authors and people who had no idea who you were, you transported back to the nights almost a year ago when you could just be you.

By the end of the book, your eyes drooped and your chin slipped from your palm, giving you an awakening jolt. Taking a look around, you realized that most of the people you’d been sitting with had either been replaced or left empty seats around you. Then you looked at the time.

Five hours?

You snapped the book shut with a satisfied sigh and left your seat to go find Spencer. Second largest library in the world, so how hard could it be?

It was your idea to split up in the first place, since he would be able to move through volumes much faster than you, you didn’t want to make him feel obligated to slow down. However, when you found the familiar head of chin length brown hair hidden behind a stack of books the length of your arm, your jaw dropped.

“Don’t tell me you got through all of those,” you exclaimed.

Spencer’s head perked up from the book he was buried in. He pointed to a second stack beside his chair. “And those.”

You groaned with jealousy and plopped down beside him. “I’m starving, do you want to go grab something to eat?”

His eyes widened and he checked his watch. “Oh god, we’re going to be late.” He frantically started carrying his books to the return cart.

You tilted your head. “Late for what?”

“Dinner.” He grabbed your hand and- to your surprise, started running.

“Spencer!” You gasped, hurrying to catch up with him and his lanky legs. People turned to watch you with disapproving glares, but he kept running even after you got out of the library. “Where are we going?”

“The Ivy.”

You stopped dead. “You got us reservations at The Ivy?”

Spence tugged on your arm. “Yes, and we are going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

So there you were, sprinting through the streets of London, hands locked together and heads thrown back with laughter.

It almost didn’t feel real. With wind racing through your hair and Spencer’s thumb lovingly rubbing the back of your hand and the world blurred around you, there was a lightness in your heart you hadn’t felt in months.

Even the shroud of gray clouds overhead seemed to sigh with relief. The rain startled softly, then matched your racing pace. Through the downpour, Spence looked back at you, hazel eyes bright with a joy that you could get drunk on.

“This is perfect!” You cried over the sound of the rain.

“What?”

Your laugh rang like a sweet bell under the chorus of water hitting pavement. “I said this is perfect!”

Spence stopped suddenly and you collided into him. His arms locked around you and he lifted you off of your feet.

“Spence!” You squealed, interrupted by his lips pressing against yours. He held you there, feet dangling and lips locked until you both had to catch your breath.

His grin lit up his face. “Okay, let’s go.”

And you took off again.

By the time you reached the restaurant, your clothes were completely soaked through and your legs burned from sprinting God knows how many blocks. The host’s eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Can I… help you?” She asked.

“Um- yes- uh-” Spence stammered between gasps. “Reservation for Reid.”

She must have checked her list at least three times to make sure it was right.

“Right this way Dr. and Mrs. Reid.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. Spencer held up a hand.

“Actually,” he said, “she’s Dr. as well.”

Your eyes snapped to his face, red rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he didn’t realize the importance of his correction- or rather, what he chose not to correct. When he turned back to you, you were beaming.

“Come on,” he smiled, taking your hand once more. You followed him with the sound of the name echoing in your heart.

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02

#dr. spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #the in betweens #cute spencer reid #criminal minds series

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mimisempai · 2 years

Text

The President and the Clerk - chap 9

Chapter summary

After the first kiss, come the first doubts...

A lot of sweet Prez/Cas…

(not me trying to make up for a angsty part with a more than double longer make out session…)

On AO3

When Prez woke up the next morning, Casey was not in their room and he immediately felt the missing warm body in his arms. He stretched as he thought back with delight to what had happened the night before.

He had not expected it at all.

In an excellent mood, he got up, dressed and headed for the kitchen.

He was both surprised and disappointed that Casey wasn't there, even though he had left a message as usual.

I've already left for work.

Coffee is ready.

I'll see you later.

Casey.

The terse tone of the little note made Prez uncomfortable. He began to wonder.

Maybe he shouldn't have kissed Casey.

Maybe they were moving too fast.

Maybe he regretted it.

He grabbed his phone and wrote a message.

Hey, Casey.

Is everything okay?

Sent 8:30 am

Yes fine.

I have a lot of

work to do

Received 8:31 am

Something was very wrong.

The message was too terse.

Casey didn't even ask him how he was, in fact there was nothing personal. The message was even less personal than the ones they had exchanged before they were closer.

Prez gulped down his coffee and nibbled on two pieces of toast, before grabbing his keys and heading to Casey's office. He was going to clear this up quickly.

His uneasy feeling returned in full force when he arrived at the space where Casey's desk was located to find it empty. He asked his colleagues where he had gone, but none of them knew, and he stood for long minutes staring at the empty desk.

"Prez!"

He was startled at the call. Lost in his thoughts, he had not seen Loki arrive.

"So are we distracted?" Loki asked wryly.

Prez nodded, "Yeah, sorry."

Loki raised an eyebrow and asked, "Any particular concern?"

"I... it's Casey. I think it went too fast. He wasn't ready and I..."

Loki put his hands on his shoulders and said in a soothing tone, "Hey, hey, calm down and come with me, we'll talk somewhere quieter."

Prez let himself be dragged into a small room that served as a meeting room and Loki made him sit down before sitting across from him.

"Okay, start from the beginning."

Prez blushed slightly and coughed before telling him about the nightmare and after.

Loki nodded and took his time answering, "Tell me, at any point did Casey give you the feeling that he was not willing or not at ease?"

Prez shook his head, "No on the contrary, I mean, it was perfect, I've never... with anyone... well I mean..."

Loki stopped him, "It's alright, it's alright, I don't need the details. But seriously, I think you're worrying about nothing. For Casey, that's a lot of new stuff in a short time, and he probably needs some time to process."

"You think so?" insisted Prez.

"Aww you're so sweet...worrying like a lovesick boy." Loki leaned over and pinched his cheeks.

Prez took offense, "I forbid you! I'm not a lov-" he stopped, aware that he was about to lie.

Loki gave him a knowing look before saying in a slightly mocking tone, "Don't worry, we've all been there."

Prez harrumphed, got up and was about to walk out when Loki stopped him, "But I'm serious Prez, I don't think you have anything to worry about. It's clear that Casey is as much into you as you are into him."

"I hope you're right." muttered Prez as he left the room.

He decided to follow his daily routine, medical wing and then archives, but his heart wasn't in it. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that ran through him.

When noon finally arrived, he headed to the cafeteria and his heart began to beat faster when he saw Casey there with Mobius and Loki.

This time, Prez didn't hesitate and walked over with a firm step.

Loki pushed himself to make room for him between him and Casey, who greeted him with a nod.

A nod.

Of course Prez didn't want a fiery kiss in the middle of the cafeteria, but he would have rather a smile, a gesture, something rather than this coldness.

Lunch went strangely, with Loki and Mobius making small talk, and when they all parted at the end of the meal, Loki looked at him with a shrug, casting a confused glance at Casey.

Prez wanted to catch up with him, but Casey had already left the cafeteria during his silent exchange with Loki.

He didn't manage to see him all day.

Prez was so worried that he was about to ask Mobius for help in finding his lover.

If he could still call him that.

If he was ever allowed to call him that in the first place.

And if he did find him, what should he tell him? Should he apologize? Is that what Casey would want?

The thought didn't sit well with him; he didn't want to apologize. Prez didn't regret what had happened the night before, and the thought that Casey might regret was twisting his stomach.

He had returned to the apartment and was making himself a cup of coffee when the door opened on Casey, who froze for a moment at the sight of him before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Casey?" he asked, and was concerned at the silence he received in return.

"Hm?" hummed Casey, looking at him quizzically.

Prez didn't know what to ask so he opted for the basic, "Are you okay?"

Casey tilted his head and replied, "Yeah, why?"

I don't know, maybe the fact that you've been avoiding me all fucking day. That you ignored me in the cafeteria.

"I haven't seen you much today. That's all."

Casey shrugged and replied, "You see me now." barely smiling.

Prez, disappointed, turned away and took a sip of coffee to calm himself.

He was dying to touch Casey after what had happened the night before and now there was such a distance between them that he didn't know how.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his elbow, which made him turn around and it was Casey who asked him with a concerned look, "What about you? Are you okay?"

No, I'm not okay at all.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He was about to walk away, feeling unable to act, when he remembered their first disagreement. It had worked for him to reach out the first time, so he turned and approached Casey.

He asked simply, "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

Casey tensed and replied, "About what?"

It was just what he feared, Casey regretted.

Prez had ruined things in his haste.

Now he had to see it through. He had to face his mistakes.

He asked, his voice slightly hoarse, "Do you regret it?"

Casey swallowed, proving to Prez that he knew exactly what he was talking about before asking anyway, "Regret what?"

Prez answered in a breath, "That we kissed."

He hated feeling so terrified of Casey's answer, so weak, so unconfident.

Casey swallowed again and began, "I... I... No... "

Then he paused and took a deep breath before resuming, "I thought it would be you... "

"What?"

Casey repeated, "I thought you'd be the one to regret it."

"I repeat myself, but what?"

Okay, okay, Prez get a grip, the situation may not be what you think.

He moved closer to Casey, not daring to touch him yet, and asked in a soft voice, "Casey, what could have made you think I would regret it?"

Casey's eyes were downcast and he whispered, "I don't know. You're just so... and I'm... I wasn't sure if you...would...I mean now that the situation is normal."

Prez didn't understand everything and not being able to see Casey's eyes made it even harder for him to read the situation.

He grabbed Casey's chin and lifted it toward him.

And he saw.

He saw the same uncertainty in Casey's eyes that was his.

He stroked Casey's cheek with his thumb and asked softly, "Casey, tell me, why do you think that?"

Casey bit his lip, hesitating before answering, "I thought maybe it was just because of your nightmares. Because I helped you. I thought maybe you were just confused or something. That in the light of day and in full control, you would regret it or change your mind."

He felt Casey wanting to look down again, but Prez held his chin firmly and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips before saying softly, a slight smile on his lips, "That's how much I regret it."

"Oh..."

Casey looked incredulous at first, then a smile spread across his lips and he repeated, "Oh..." but this time there was like wonder in his voice.

Prez couldn't resist dropping another kiss on the half-open lips before taking his face in his hands, "Casey, I was perfectly lucid last night. I don't regret a single second. I only regret waking up alone in that big bed, when all I wanted to do was to do it again. But unfortunately, there was no Casey in my arms this morning."

He continued more seriously, "This is serious, I'm serious, Casey you've probably seen more of me than anyone else and I think without going too far you've shown me more of yourself than to anyone. That's important to me. You're important to me."

Casey murmured, "Really?" as if he still found it hard to believe as a smile played on his lips.

"Really." stated Prez softly before kissing her again, longer, deeper, finally. Happy to regain the lost connection.

When they parted to catch their breath, he felt Casey exhale with relief against his lips and then chuckled softly, "I think we're going to have to learn to communicate. I...I'm still not used to it you know?"

Prez tilted his head and asked, "Used to what?"

"Of saying out loud what I want, what I feel, what I'm afraid of."

Prez chuckled, "Welcome to the club. Like you say, we'll have to learn." He ruffled Casey's short hair and said softly, "But we have time."

Casey nodded and put his arms around Prez's neck, tangling his fingers in his hair. He looked up at him, a little hesitantly, biting his lip, and Prez said simply, "Whatever you want."

So Casey just pulled Prez's face closer to his, before reaching for his lips. There was a kind of innocence in Casey's whole attitude that made Prez feel like he was in possession of an incredible treasure. He obliged and brought his lips to Casey's, thrilled to feel him just as eager as he was in the kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Prez wanted to get even closer, so he slipped his arms under Casey's butt and lifted him effortlessly, sitting him on the kitchen counter, all without breaking their kiss.

Casey gasped and Prez took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside Casey's wet mouth, finding the familiar and oh so addictive taste.

Prez moaned in the kiss as Casey's tongue touched his first timidly and then much more boldly to Prez's delight.

The kisses the night before had been incredibly sweet, and while the sweetness was still there today, the kiss had become hot and hungry.

When they separated to catch their breath once more, Casey gasped and rested her forehead against Prez's.

Between sighs, he breathed, "Wow Prez... so good..." then stopped and bit his lip, "I shouldn't have said that, should I?"

Prez ran a soothing stroke of his tongue over the lip Casey had just bitten and whispered against his lips, "On the contrary, I want to know what you like, what makes you happy, what you think is good. Don't refrain yourself." He gently kissed Casey's swollen lips and continued, "I, for one, found it amazingly good."

He moved down Casey's cheek to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, taking in every one of Casey's reactions, from the slight shudder to the breathlessness. Casey still had his fingers tangled in the now messy black curls and pressed Prez's face into his neck.

Prez pressed a long kiss into her neck, not resisting gently sucking on the spot he'd been kissing and pressed his lips again and again to that one area where he could feel his partner's heartbeat.

Casey moaned, "Prez..."

Prez's breath caught, he gasped, his mouth open against Casey's neck then slowly pulled away.

"Why did you stop?" complained Casey with a voice that threatened to shatter all of Prez's resolve.

"We should take a break."

"Okay..." replied Casey looking disappointed.

Prez gently pulled him down from the kitchen counter and said softly, "Come here."

He led him into the living room and sat him down on the couch before sitting next to him. Then he took his hand, turned to him and was about to speak when Casey interrupted him, "Prez, please tell me what I did wrong."

Prez shook his head, "Casey, you sweet thing, you didn't do anything wrong. Hell, it's... it's not like that at all. On the contrary, it was perfect, but I'm trying to do the right thing. I want to... gods know I want to, but..."

Casey smiled and replied, "Me too, I want..."

"I know, but I really think we should take our time, everything is new to you and in a way to me too. I don't want to rush things. I..."

Casey interrupted him, the signs of worry gone from his face, "I understand...I think you're right. But...I need to know something...I just want to be sure. Just tell me... Do you want more than what we have?"

Prez had to use all his self-control not to show him how much more he wanted, and answered in a determined voice, so Casey would have no doubt about his intentions, "I do, yes."

Casey replied in the same tone, "Me too. I want more, but I understand why you stopped, and looking back, I... I think it's best, for both of us, if this, uh, this thing between us takes a little longer."

The willingness it took to admit that when all Casey wanted was to have Prez's lips on his, to have his hands on Prez, or Prez's on him, for them to be even closer together. And what reassured him was that he saw that Prez was feeling the same torment.

"I'm sorry I reacted the way I did," Casey resumed, putting his hand on Prez's cheek, "I guess I was surprised, I'm not used to someone putting my needs ahead of theirs."

Prez leaned his cheek into Casey's hand and then turning his head he kissed the palm before telling him, "I don't want to hurt you. You deserve to be wooed, to be cherished."

Prez pulled his lover against him, and they sat on the couch entwined, Casey with his head on Prez's chest who had his arm around his shoulders.

After a few moments, Casey asked, "Can you promise me something though?"

Prez hummed and Casey continued, "Please don't walk away from me. I love what we have and you haven't done anything I haven't enjoyed. I don't want to go back."

Prez chuckled softly, running his arm along Casey's back and replied, "Honestly, I couldn't, even if I wanted to, you are more intoxicating than a drug."

"That's good." replied Casey in a satisfied tone. There was something gratifying about knowing that Prez was in it as much as he was. He snuggled a little more against him as his lover took the remote.

"What are you doing?" asked Casey, surprised.

"I think a documentary on the migration of shrimp in the China Sea will be perfect to cool us down."

Casey tapped him on the chest, rolling his eyes, "Don't make fun of my documentaries!"

Prez retorted, "I'm not making fun, but you'll agree that it's not the most exciting thing in the world."

Casey shrugged and gave a pouty look.

"Hey Professor Casey," Prez murmured before taking his chin and kissing him, "I'm not making fun of you. Never"

Prez couldn't hold back and laughed, "Come on press play, let's not have this night go to waste."

Prez immediately took offense, "Hey, I don't consider this a wasted night!"

Casey chuckled again, "It's so easy to get you on your high horse."

"Professor Casey, I find you extremely cheeky I must say!"

They watched the documentary anyway, in an atmosphere of familiarity and sweet intimacy.

Between kisses, tender gestures and bickering.

Casey thought back to the first night, to that moment when he had done everything he could to keep his feet from touching Prez and now he was lying down with his head in Prez's lap.

He sighed with contentment as his lover's hand came to brush his hair. Seeing his reaction, Prez continued to gently massage his head, stopping just to pull the plaid over him. After a few moments, as the documentary came to an end, Prez felt Casey's head grow heavy in his lap as his breathing slowed.

He swallowed, his throat tight with emotion. There was something precious about Casey falling asleep like that.

As his fingers ran through Casey's surprisingly soft hair, he thought back to everything that had happened since Loki and Mobius had brought him back from the Void.

How in a few days his life had taken a turn that he had never imagined. He took the time to think about it and came to the conclusion that he didn't regret anything.

He looked down at Casey and thought to himself, "No, definitely, I don't regret anything."

He wondered if he should wake him up so he could sleep more comfortably, but Casey looked like he was sleeping so peacefully that he didn't have the heart to.

Prez gently lifted his legs so as not to wake Casey and put them on the coffee table. He leaned over and lightly kissed his sleeping lover on the forehead before relaxing and putting his head back on the back of the couch.

He would probably be sore the next day, but he wouldn't change his place for anything.

No, Prez had no regrets.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

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fangirl-erdariel · 2 years

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Quote time!

Your absence is my only winter

From every corner of time where I no longer have the energy / my love / take me away

I do not know / whether it's a fantasy / or just a folly

My dearest one, my darling dear

The sky is her roof / the earth is her bed

Ooooo

Okay so I have been suffering from Too Much Tolkien Brainrot recently (sorry lol), so full disclaimer, that just maybe miiiiight sliiightly affect my replies :D Also I am in a horribly angsty mood (I blame The Last Homely Server on discord for this, it's just either angst or the randomest memes with no in-between)

Your absence is my only winter - I'm very tempted to just be predictable about this and say it's Elrond/Celebrían angst after Celebrían sails. (Tho I might flip it around and make it Celebrían centric and write about how even in Valinor, even as she is actually finding the peace and healing she went to seek, she still misses Elrond and grieves that she has to be parted from him. So kind of making it like "everything else is good, I love it here and I am doing well, but I love you and I miss you and I wish you could be here by my side", instead of the usual Elrond grieving her perspective that most fics are.) Or, alternatively, I think it could be a fun title for one of those "well I keep thinking about it but I've never written it" fics about Celeborn during the Siege of Imladris in the War of Elves and Sauron in the second age - cuz for some reason I'm personally really fond of the version of events where Galadriel and Celebrían have moved to Doriath but Celeborn hasn't followed them there yet, and still lives in Eregion when it falls, and is among the survivors who escape and join Elrond's forces, and so ends up in Rivendell as it's being founded. So I think this would be also a fun title of a fic that's about him during those events, trapped waiting out a seemingly endless, hopeless siege as Sauron conquers more and more of Middle-Earth, and he's far from his wife and his daughter and he misses them so much and he worries because things are bad and he doesn't even know if they're still alive anymore, what if Lórien has fallen, what if they're dead or something else horrible has happened to them?

From every corner of time where I no longer have the energy / my love / take me away - hmm. This is kind of difficult. It's some kind of angst, definitely, and as I said, head full of Tolkien brainrot so nothing else is coming to mind rn, but beyond that I'm not quite sure. Possibly some kind of angsty Eärendil/Elwing stuff long after the events of Silmarillion, exploring how the whole "eternally sailing the night sky" thing affects him, just him being So Tired of it all, with Elwing's presence and meeting her when he returns near Valinor again as one of the only good things, only moments of relief in his life

I do not know / whether it's a fantasy / or just a folly - again, I'm not sure. For some reason the idea that came to my mind was Boromir and Faramir as kids (like Faramir just on the brink of his teenage years, Boromir as older teenager who's starting to take on a lot of important responsibilities but is still very much a kid, maybe), and Faramir just being fed-up with feeling like Denethor considers him the lesser of them and trying in some way to prove his worth/strength/bravery probably in some way that's kinda risky and not a particularly good idea. But idk, I'm not entirely sold on the idea to be honest

My dearest one, my darling dear - hmm I don't really know. Somehow what comes to my mind with this is a parental relationship more than one between lovers, idk why? Maybe something Gílraen-centric of her raising Aragorn in Rivendell? I really dunno where the idea came from, and I don't know any further what the plot would be, though

The sky is her roof / the earth is her bed - this one's really difficult for some reason. Also while I like the vibes of this, I don't think this would be a Tolkien fic for me. Idk what it would be tho. Sorry, boring answer, but while I like this I really can't think of anything!

#answered ask #talvenhenki #ask game

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kybabi · 3 years

Text

telling their s/o they’re being too clingy

w/ atsumu, sakusa, and oikawa

part 1!

series masterlist here!

(a/n: i have a couple asks to post but i just wanted to post this one prompt today!!

anyways i feel like if i were in a relationship (PLS i’ve never been in one before *cries in commitment issues*) i’d definitely be too clingy so i wanted to write for this one. anyways it’s a lil angsty but there’s happy endings for each of the characters😌

um. also. these are literally SO CHEESY like you won’t even understand until you read it so feel free to click off if it’s too much😀)

atsumu

atsumu had woken up on the wrong side of the bed for some reason

he barely said anything to you in the morning and was ignoring your texts all day

when he finally got home, he was the same

you figured that maybe he needed some cuddles or positive affirmations

so you climbed into bed next to him and put your head on his chest

“‘tsumu, are you okay?”

he just rolled over on his side, pushing you off him

“baby—”

“why can’t you tell when i want to be alone? god, you’re always so clingy.”

after that, he said nothing to you, leaving the two of you in silence

you realized you were always this way, and you felt insecure, as touch was one of your love languages and you hadn’t realized how annoying that must have been

the two of you slept with your backs against each other that night

it’s the next day, and atsumu seems to have forgotten the things he said to you while he was in a bad mood last night.

when he wakes up, the bed is cold. it’s a saturday, and he’s looking forward to just staying in for the day and spending some time with you. he gets up to find you in the kitchen, making some sort of food. he walks up behind you, about to put his arms around you and wrap you in a hug, but you dodge him, moving to the side swiftly. he figures it’s nothing (this dumb bitch i swear)

“hey babe, we should go to the store today and pick up something for dinner,” he notes, checking the refrigerator.

“‘kay,” you reply, plating both of your breakfasts.

when you get to the grocery store, he expects you to tug on his sweatshirt like always, steering him into the aisles you want to go into, but instead you walk in front of him. the behavior is strange, but he shrugs it off.

after dinner, you suggest a movie, and you let him pick for the two of you.

you settle in, situating yourself on the left side of the couch and pulling the blanket over yourself. atsumu sits in the middle, expecting you to join him with your head on his shoulder like usual.

he waits.

and waits.

but you stay on your side of the couch, resting against a pillow instead of your boyfriend. now atsumu is picking up on your behavior, but he’s not sure why you’re acting this way. he decides he’ll ask you after the movie.

when you’re in bed later, he joins you, sighing contentedly. you look over at him and smile sleepily. now he figures you’ll give in and crawl over into his lap, since you’re stupidly affectionate when you’re sleepy. but you roll over on your side, scrolling lazily through your phone. now he knows something is up.

he’s about to ask you why you’re being this way, but then he suddenly remembers the things he said to you last night before you went to sleep. he feels terrible.

he pokes at your side miserably. you turn to see him staring at you with wide, guilty eyes, and you sit up.

“what is it, baby?” you whisper, gentle. he pushes his face into your chest, and sighs.

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles quietly. “i didn’t mean what i said last night. please be affectionate with me again, okay?”

the thought that he wants you close to him makes your heart swell, and you can’t imagine a time where you weren’t in love with this man.

you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair soothingly.

“‘s okay. i love you.”

“i love you.”

sakusa

you’ve always been the more affectionate one in your relationship

kiyoomi is not one for physical contact, nor people in general, but for you he might make an exception

but the differences between your personalities often lead to disagreements and furthermore, arguments

a couple days ago, you had fought because he hadn’t texted you to tell you where he’d been for hours and you were worried sick

he wasn’t in the mood to talk and you were making it worse

“kiyoomi, you can’t just—”

“y/n, i’m tired of you being this way all the time. you’re so fucking clingy. it’s like every time i try to do literally anything, you HAVE to be overbearing. it’s exhausting.”

you were hurt that he’d called you that, as you cared deeply for him but he’d only interpreted that as annoying :(

you continued to fight until neither of you had the energy and called it quits, half-assed apologies forced out of each other

now the two of you are okay, but what he said stuck with you, and you’ve decided that maybe he’s right

today was not sakusa’s day at all. people were getting on his nerves left and right, and he was just tired out of his mind. he was just looking forward to coming home to you and snuggling in bed after such a long day.

he gets home and walks into the kitchen to see you making dinner and sighs tiredly. you can tell something is up with him.

“you doing okay, omi?” you ask gently. he shakes his head no, and you realize he must’ve had a bad day.

“‘m sorry, baby. can i do anything to make you feel better?” you ask, tossing something into the pot your stirring.

he sighs again, knowing he’s absolutely terrible at asking for things like this.

“could we— could you just—” he stutters, muttering. you stare at him patiently; expectantly. he stares back at you.

usually here, you’d end his suffering and ask him if he wanted to cuddle, but apparently you’re not picking up on his cues or something, because you stay silent, waiting for him to say something.

at some point, sakusa just gives up, mumbling under his breath and sulking over to the couch. on most days, you would walk over to him and ask him to talk to you, but for some reason it seems like you’re really not paying any attention to him. he knows he’s being dramatic, but he feels neglected and just a bit touch-starved. he would never say it, though.

after dinner, when both of you have showered and you’re waiting in bed for him, he looks over at you. you just look so warm and soft and he wants more than anything to cuddle with you. trying to be subtle, he asks, “is something up with you?”

you shake your head. “no, i’m doing okay. how are you feeling?” he shrugs, not wanting to talk. but you interpret this as him wanting distance from you, so you decide not to prod any further.

now he’s getting impatient, fingers itching to just grab you and hold you close, but you’re not giving him anything.

then he remembers how he hurt you last time, calling you clingy and saying the way you cared for him was annoying. his shoulders droop, and now he realizes he can’t blame you for giving him space. but space isn’t what he wants right now.

so he wraps his arms around your waist and rolls you over, ending up with you lying flush on top of him, and you look up at his face in surprise.

“please don’t be away from me right now,” he mumbles quietly. “i want you here, okay?”

your eyes fill up with tears at his honesty, kiyoomi in such a vulnerable state you’ve never seen before. you bury your face in his chest and sniffle.

“okay.”

oikawa

oikawa has always had a problem with his personal boundaries

he’s never known when to stop; when enough is enough

so when you found out that he was still overworking himself a few days ago, your own frustration bubbled over

“tooru, this HAS to stop!”

both of you knew it was true

but in oikawa’s head..

“god, of course you wouldn’t get it. you’ve never wanted something so badly in your entire life that you’d do anything—”

“I WANT YOU, TOORU. how many times do i have to tell you this to make you understand?”

he’d scoffed at you, sneering

“you know what? fuck you. i don’t need you. all you do is hover over me. GOD, you’re so fucking clingy! no matter how hard i try to get rid of you, you just won’t leave!”

you were crying at that point, and while normally you would’ve stayed and tried to calm him down, this time was different

you were too hurt to stay, so you grabbed some of your things and left, slamming the door

he had regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but it was too late anyway

he’d called you 14 times and left too many messages to count, and when you came home he got up and ran to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly, scared to let go

and while you knew he didn’t mean the things he said to you, you also knew he wasn’t all that wrong either

so from that day on, you decided you would be better

today was terrible.

honestly, everything was going wrong. you were getting into arguments with people at work, the traffic was terrible, and it seemed like the entire world was against you.

and while all you want is to come home to your boyfriend and cuddle with him, the very last thing you need right now is another argument about how clingy you’re being.

oikawa is already home when you open the door, and he stands up to greet you. he notices something is off about you today, and you look even more tired than usual.

he walks over to you and tilts your chin up with his hand. you look like you’re about to cry.

“oh, baby. what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft and sweet. but you’re just so overwhelmed, so you start to sob. his eyes widen in alarm and then droop with sympathy, and he tries to wrap his arms around you.

no matter how much you want to succumb to his embrace, you know you’ll only regret it in the long run, so you push him away and walk towards your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

outside the door, oikawa stands there dumbfounded. it’s so unlike you to refuse his comfort, especially through touch. he knocks on the door softly before opening it.

you’re laying in bed, pillow clutched to your chest, sobbing on your side. the sight breaks his heart, and he wants to make you feel better, but he doesn’t know how.

he sits on the bed beside you and puts his hand in your hair, but you shrink away from him. his heart sinks.

“baby, please let me be here for you,” he says soothingly. you shake your head. “why?” he asks, soft and sad.

“y-you’ll think i’m be-being clingy again,” you sniffle, clutching the pillow tighter.

tooru thinks back to the argument the two of you had, the way he called you annoying and clingy and desperate when really he can’t think of anything he’s ever needed more in his life than you.

he gets into bed beside you and puts his arms around you, holding you tight against him. you fight him for a second, but then relax, giving in and turning towards him. you cry harder, sobbing into his chest and gripping his shirt.

“hey, hey. you’re alright, baby, i’ve got you,” he whispers. “i love you so much, okay? i love how affectionate you are with me and i love everything about you.”

you’ve calmed down a little bit, hiccuping and sniffling against his chest.

“i’m sorry for making you feel like i wasn’t a safe space for you to come home to. i didn’t mean a single thing i said to you that day. and then you left and it scared me and i was exhausted and insecure and i just—” he cuts himself off. “i need you, y/n. that will never change. okay?”

you look up at him, smiling softly. you really, really love him, don’t you?

“okay,” you whisper, falling asleep in his arms.

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spideyhexx · 2 years

Text

revelation; s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x female!reader

a/n: it's been a bit. school has made me feel burnt out but I was in the mood to write and this happened! I hope I can write more soon for you guys :)

masterlist.

summary: you find comfort in steve after your breakup with bucky and what comes of it is something of a realization.

WARNINGS: mentions of breakup. ex!bucky. little angsty.

word count: 1.7k

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you mutter, looking at Steve, then down to your feet. You keep quiet as he thinks and it feels like a millennia before he’s reaching out and gently tugging on your arm to pull you inside.

“You’re all wet,” he says, a frown on his face. Your mind jumps to the dirty connotation but you push the thought out, glancing back at him as you stand in the middle of his living room, your clothes damp from the rain. Steve sighs and walks to his bathroom, turning the shower on. He goes to his bedroom then whistles to get your attention.

“Go take a shower, and here’s some clothes.” He hands them to you as you walk past him to the bathroom and as soon as you close the door, tears brim your eyes. Why did you go to your ex’s best friend’s after your breakup? Was this a good idea at all?

Your mind began to spiral in questions, but you forced them out, longing for the hot water to distract you, to warm your skin.

Taking off your damp clothes, you step into the showing, sighing with relief and drenching yourself in the heat. The questions easily circle back into your mind before you could stop them. In reality, Steve was also a close friend of yours. It’s no doubt that Bucky was closer but ever since meeting the pair, you’ve also grown close to Steve. I didn’t know where else to go.

That was the truth. You couldn’t stay in Bucky’s apartment. You called a friend, but they didn’t answer. The rain was falling faster than your tears. Steve was close.

A quick walk, so you sped right there. And now here you are, drying yourself off and pulling his clothes on. You knew if Bucky knew you were here, the fight, the aftermath of the breakup would extend, but the mere comfort of Steve’s home was keeping you there.

After you walk out of the bathroom, Steve is waiting right there with a cup of tea. You take it, nodding at him and look away, walking over to his very comfortable couch, sipping the tea.

“It’s good, thank you,” you tell him and he sits on the other side of the couch.

“Bucky’s already texted me what happened,” he starts, “you know he might come-”

“I know.” You didn’t need to say it, but Steve knew. He was aware you had no other place to go right now. He knew Bucky preferred to be alone if he was upset or angry. There was the chance of him stopping over to Steve’s for support but he was a wildcard.

Steve proposed that if he did come over, you should stay in the guest room. You agreed with a nod and spent the night sipping your tea, sitting in silence with Steve. He talked every now and then. They weren’t attempts to make you talk, more to ease the tension, to distract you perhaps before sleep overcame you.

“I went grocery shopping this morning. You’ll be eating a feast tomorrow,” Steve says, uttering one more part, but you hear it, “you deserve it.”

Bucky stops by the third day you were there. As agreed, as soon as you hear his booming voice, you lock the guest room, pulling a blanket over your head. You don’t want to listen, but you do.

“What happened, Buck?” Steve sounds concerned, gentle, like he always is.

“I messed up, Steve, that’s what happened.” Bucky by contrast, sounds harsh, exasperated. You can’t be sure, but you can see him pacing around Steve’s warm living room, wrecking the peacefulness.

“Have you heard from her?” Steve pauses and Bucky speaks before he could respond, “you have? Of course you have….just please tell me she’s okay?” Steve says you’re okay and Bucky asks him if he has a chance of winning you back. You gnaw on your lip.

You finally talked about everything with Steve the night prior. It surprised you, Steve genuinely sided with you and the decision to leave Bucky. He listened intently then held you close as you sobbed into his chest, the memories too fresh to stop your tears.

After you calmed down, he assured you that you’d find another person one day, one that you absolutely deserve. You believe him.

“I don’t think she’ll take you back, Bucky. You should give her space for now,” Steve says to him. Bucky’s silent, but once again, you can picture his clenched jaw and unnerving stare make the house cold. You hear the door shut, pushing the blanket off of you.

Staring at the ceiling, you count each footstep you hear as Steve walks up the stairs. He knocks gently on the door and you pull yourself out of the bed and open it.

Days later, you venture out of the house for the first time, accompanied by Steve.

He wanted to go to the grocery store again, citing that he needs to make his famous apple pie and that at the last outing with all your friends, you promised him you’d help him make it sometime. You did not like baking, but you entertained him. It was a distraction, nothing more.

You pushed around the cart while Steve excitedly put the ingredients in, but he takes longer as he stares at the apples.

“You have to get the right ones, it’s a difficult matter,” he says, so seriously, that it makes you laugh. Steve smiles, not even looking at you, his gaze on the fruit and he rubs at his chin, covering his smile.

“That’s the first time you’ve laughed in a bit,” he mutters, his eyes flitting to yours before back to the apples, grabbing green ones. He’s right, you think. It felt good too. To laugh. You go to respond, but he’s talking before you could get a word out.

“I think Granny Smith apples will do? I’ve seen you eat them before.”

You scoff, grinning at him, “you’re only getting them because I’ve eaten them?”

He nods, putting a few into a bag and letting them join the cart with the rest of the ingredients. “Of course, you and I will be the only one’s eating it. I want you to enjoy it.” Steve looks at you for a moment longer, noting your small smile, and walks towards the register.

Since baking was not your forte, you’re not much of a help to Steve. He gives you tasks, cutting the apples, mixing the ingredients for the filling and so on. He handles the heavy duty stuff. As he fits the pie crust into the pan, you watch his hands, delicately yet firmly pressing it down against. Steve clears his throat to snap you out of your gaze.

“You do that a lot, you know?”

“Do what?” You lean against the counter as he prepares the pie, putting it into the oven when he’s done and he leans himself on the counter opposite you.

“Zone out,” he replies and Steve crosses his arms over his chest. His chest, you think, your eyes darting to his arms after glancing at his chest. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“What?”

“You’re doing it again,” he says, giving you a smile as warm as his house. Your cheeks heat up and you look away from him.

“Have you heard from Bucky?” Bucky. You haven’t actually. And in this very small moment, waiting for the apple pie with Steve’s comfortable eyes awaiting your answer, you realize you haven’t even thought of Bucky the past few days.

Your mind has been too occupied with Steve. With laying in the cozy guest bed. Falling asleep on the couch and waking up in the bed, knowing Steve must’ve carried you there.

Steve entertaining your nonsense rants, even if he fully doesn’t understand the reference. Indulging him in all the pop culture he has yet to catch up on, even if you yourself aren’t a fan of it. The days have been short, yet so long and right then, you realize that it felt right. It felt content.

You’re broken out of your thoughts as Steve whistles, his brow furrowed as he walks closer to you. “Are you alright?” His hand holds your shoulder as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“I shouldn’t of mentioned Bucky, you seemed happy, I-”

“It’s okay, I’m okay Steve. Because of you,” you say, not intending for your voice to be as quiet as it is. His brow relaxes and you let out a breath, but it does no good.

He’s so close and you’re sure he could hear your heart beating. It’s too late to control yourself as you glance at his lips and then quickly back to his eyes. Steve notices. Of course, he does, you think.

He takes his hand off your shoulder and it finds its home intertwined with your hand. Steve makes no effort to move away. He’s searching your face for an answer, but you’re not too sure you know what it is.

His nose brushes yours, both of your breaths hitching, making you squeeze his hand and he immediately squeezes it back. You swallow and Steve intentionally nudges his nose against yours with more confidence, his lips so close. So close to more warmth.

The oven erupts in noise, signaling that the pie is done and both of you jump, his mouth moving away from you, making you cold again. You don’t let go of his hand though.

“I don’t….” he starts but your grip is firm on him, making him stop. Steve glances at the oven then back at you, coming closer, the warmth of him escalating the fire in your heart.

“This will be…difficult,” he mumbles, his mouth parting, his eyes drooling with desperation. Maybe desperate for you to push him away and never speak of this again. But you wouldn’t do that. Not when you feel at ease for the first time in a while, regardless of the hammering of your heart.

“I don’t care.” You let go of his hand, abandoning that heat to grab onto the collar of Steve’s shirt and press your lips to his.

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