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#a warm up for me since ive been gone for so long
risuola · 26 days
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IV — EPIPHANY — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.
cw: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words
a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.
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You are safe with me.
Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.
You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.
Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.
Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.
* * *
Sixteen days.
It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.
Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.
You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–
You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.
You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.
“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.
He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.
You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.
Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.
It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?
You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.
* * *
It took too long.
In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.
“I’ve got few questions to you.”
He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.
“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”
“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.
Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.
As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.
“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.
“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”
“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”
Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.
“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.
“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.
“And which one are you?”
“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.
The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–
“Seeing something familiar?”
–weak.
» PART FIVE SOON
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a-sapphic-love · 3 months
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🎧- e.w mindbreak
summary: in which ellie gifts reader an odd pair of headphones, and weird things start to happen.
warnings: MDNI!!!!, dom!ellie, sub!reader, manipulation, smuttt, mindbreak, hypno, bdsm, smoking blunts/ weed use, freeuse, exhibitionism, probably more that i forgot to list
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
my first ellie fic- enjoy! (tips and such are appreciated)
you're at work one day, humming at your desk as you finish up a task when your coworker ellie comes up to you.
you both don't talk much, but she's always been nice to you. its kind of weird, since she's cold to your other coworkers, but you don't think too much of it.
"hey, i got these headphones and customized them for my friend, but it turns out she doesn't really use them. your old pair broke, right? so i guess you could have these." she says, smiling. such a sweet gesture!
"oh, thank you! ive been wanting a new pair!" you say, returning the warm smile, and ellie hands you a box with some black headphones on them.
you're surprised when you open the box to find pink headphones, and they seem to be a little modified. ellie is long gone so you can't really ask, but you assume it's because the headphones were supposed to be for a friend of hers.
you put the headphones on, and they fit comfortably, so you decide to just start using them. you play some music, but are confused to realize something's wrong. there's an odd frequency playing.
so you just play a different song, except you keep hearing that same frequency. you stop playing the music to see, and think everything's normal again until you listen close and the frequency is still there.
you were raised by a family that was against waste, so you decide to just suck it up and use the headphones anyway. plus, after wearing them for a few days, you find every time ellie sees you with the headphones on, she just looks so excited. probably just really happy to see you using her gift.
however, odd things begin to happen. suddenly, every time you see ellie your panties get all sticky and you just want to follow her around like a lost puppy.
plus, you're getting worse and worse at your job. you start to forget things, or just simply ignore them. because now, all you spend your time at work doing is looking for ellie. she seems to already know you're getting dumber, and she helps with all the 'big girl things' you just can't do anymore.
"hi, angel, you need help right?" she coos every time you come find her to do something for you. "im so proud of you for coming to get me, i know you can't do it by yourself. it's okay..." and her gentle praise only makes your cunt leak more.
your boss sees how you don't really work anymore and gets angrier, much to ellie's advantage. one day, she takes you into the washroom and shows you a video.
one big, sparkly pink spiral is plastered on her phone screen, and she connects your headphones so you can hear the audio -
"you feel so good with your little pussy all wet, all you want are some orgasms right? you don't think any more, you only get dumber and dumber..." and the video trails off.
it feels like hours that you stand there staring at the screen, hypnotized. you feel her hands on your body, touching your nipples and squeezing your boobs. "you want an orgasm right? wanna cum so bad, but you can't do it yourself? come with me, ellie will help." she coos, and your horny broken mind only wants to listen.
ellie takes you to her house, something she's been wanting to do for a long time, "just had to make sure you were dumb enough," she thinks to herself.
she brings you into her room where there's a little cage all perfect for you, with your new favourite color: pink. she ties you up, all pretty, with an even prettier pink ball gag. you squirm a little, confused. you're not completely dumb yet, and ellie's annoyed by that fact.
luckily, there's a good solution. "it's okay princess, ellie will break that mind of yours, alright?" she says, teasingly. now that she has you all for herself, she doesn't need to keep up the nice act.
ellie leaves you to struggle briefly, before coming back with a small egg-shaped vibrator. she tapes it right on top of your clothed clit, before continuing to play hypno files.
you squirm, even though it hurts with all the tight ropes, at the feeling of the vibe. not only have you gotten soo much dumber, you're also needier. without really meaning to, you mumble a series of broken pleas through the gag. you don't care that ellie hypnotized you and is actively trying to break you. all you want is to cum.
ellie smiles when she notices you moving your hips, desperate for more friction. she presses down on the vibe before sliding her hands up your shirt to rub your nipples. the look in your big, teary eyes makes her clit throb.
"come on, know you wanna cum your brains out, so just do it. cum for me angel," she teases, and it sends you over the edge fast. finally, you break, her dumb little nympho toy.
she unties you quickly and removes the gag before taking all your clothes off. "good girls don't wear clothes if they don't need to... right, baby?"
"yes ellie!" you respond, nearly drooling from how good your last orgasm was- and how badly you want another one. ellie immediately takes her pants off when she hears how you say her name. she wants to fuck you soo bad already
shit, and the look in your eyes- like not a single thought passes through your head, ever. that's how she knows you're broken.
ellie lights a blunt fast, and you find yourself practically humping the floor at how hot she is when she smokes. the air in her room seems to get heavier, and it's greenish-yellow tinted. long puffs, and she takes a few hits before turning to you. "always wanted to do this, since the day i first saw that stupidly cute little face," she whispers, chuckling.
she takes a hit, and this time she blows it in your face. you cough, disoriented by the sudden sensation but you love every second of it. and you're happy to be obedient because maybe that means another orgasm- fuck, you just want to cum again.
lucky for you, ellie does too. she picks you up and throws you on her bed, kissing your pretty lips until you can't feel them. she stops momentarily, opening her drawer and getting her strap, a vibrator, and something else you can't see.
you realise what it is when you feel your nipple get pinched harshly, ellie put nipple clamps on you. you whine a little, but come to be... okay with the sensation. you just want to please ellie, after all.
and anyway, being so good for her pays off. you know for sure when she's 8 inches deep inside of you, stuffing your face inside a pillow with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other.
"you gonna make a mess, hm? you gonna make a mess for ellie?" she says, leaning over to kiss your swollen lips. "mhm, yesyesyesyes, 'm gonna make a mess for ellie, fu-u-uckkk, els," you whimper, and you know it's exactly what she wants to hear.
the base of the strap absolutely abuses ellie's clit, and it's not long before her movements become frantic and she gets even meaner. "yeah, you gonna cum your brains out again like a little whore? yeah?" she groans, slapping your ass harshly.
"say it, say you're a stupid whore for ellie," she says, when she doesn't hear a response. she's right about to cum, she just needs to hear you admit it.
"i-im a stupid whore for ellie!" you whine, having your third- or was it your fourth? orgasm since ellie broke you. it didn't matter how many you had, you just wanted more.
ellie nearly felt the same way. having her own little toy, it was too good just thinking about the possibilities.
after that day, ellie tried out all the things she'd been wanting to do. she brought you to work with her, except now you went so you could be the cum dumpster of the office, going under tables to eat your former coworkers out until they came all over your face.
she took you to the park, so she could humiliate you by making you hump random things. she took you to the library, so she could make you ask the female staff about books while controlling the vibrator in your panties,
even at home, ellie humiliated you by making you clean or do gardening outside with a skirt and no panties. anyone sensible would have been way to embarrassed to keep doing these things.
except you didn't really have a problem with your new life, because you always got orgasms, and that was all your dumb, broken slutty brain ever wanted.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
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spacecowboyhotch · 10 months
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The Brink
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summary: you and aaron try for a baby.
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
contents: NSFW/18+/MINORS DNI, pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint
wc: 1.2k
gif credit: @hotch-girl
an: first proper hotch fic ive written since sept of last year. hotch girls make some noise, it’s been a long time cominnnnn’! this isn’t beta’d so if there’s typos blame grammarly 🤪
cm masterlist | requests closed
“Oh god, Aaron, please,” You whine softly into the sheets, attempting to rock back against him.
“You’re alright, I’ve got you,” He shushes you gently, pulling back just a bit before easing back inside of you and staying still.
He’s driving you insane in the best way and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.
You’re so warm. The warmest you’ve ever been in your life, surrounded by heat, and while you generally prefer to bundle up in the cold there is no other place you’d rather be right now. There’s sweat pooling in the dip of your back, coating every inch of your skin that is practically suffused to Aaron’s. He’s draped his entire body over yours, his hips moving forward in a slow grind that presses the tip of his cock at the spot deepest inside of you.
You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but what you are sure of is that there was at least a bit of dusk peeking through the blinds when he’d first carried you to bed. You feel as though he’s consumed you— his hands, his mouth, they’ve been everywhere and you haven’t had a single complaint.
You’d told him that evening that you were ready to have a child with him in the most nonchalant way. As always you were perched in his lap, grinding down against him until he’d gone mad and needed you as much as you needed him. And when he had reached for protection like he always does, you grabbed his hand and fixed him with a look that made him feel like you wanted to swallow him whole.
Don’t. I want to try, Aaron. I want you to fill me up, you’d said.
His head had tilted, eyes scanning your face as he assessed you for what felt like an eternity before quietly asking you if you were sure. And when you nodded, opening your mouth to speak, he hadn’t even given you the chance because he lunged forward, pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, hungry kiss. You’d been frozen, succumbing to his mouth before your brain recalibrated, able to match his fervor.
It took no time at all for him to get you both naked, to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue. Aaron’s always giving in bed, but it is his way of taking. Your pleasure and his pleasure are almost one and the same, two veins that feed into each other.
“I love you,” He murmurs against the skin of your neck before pressing a series of kisses to the column of your throat, trailing them over the slope of your shoulder.
You shiver against his mouth, reaching back with a hand to bury it into his messy, slick hair, “I love you, too.”
“Are you ready for me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?”
This time your shiver is more of a shudder. You support your head in the cup of your palm, turning to glance over your shoulder at him as you nod frantically. “Please. Please.”
“One more time, sweet girl, ask me one more time. The way you beg…” He breathes, the sound hitching in his chest.
You notice that his eyes are cloudy, with love and lust, as he stares at you. Your mouth pulls up in a lazy, satisfied smile. Yes, you’re always happy to submit to Aaron, to have him scramble your brain until your only words are his name and some sort of pleading for more. But sometimes —unknowingly— Aaron submits to you too. Your every ask is met with yes no matter how long it’s been, how tired he is— in and out of the bedroom.
“Please, Aaron.”
“I’m right here. Right here, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” He reassures you softly.
Despite that reassurance, he doesn’t quicken his pace or increase the force of his hips. He continues to grind into you, wanting to stay as close to you as humanly possible. To cum as deeply inside of you as possible, hellbent on it to take. And while you’re confused, this much different than how he usually works you both to climax, you trust him with everything.
“Look at me,” He breathes into your ear, and you do, your eyes meeting his once more.
There’s a desperation in his eyes, a wildness you’ve never seen before and you know that he’s just on the brink. His hips move sloppily against yours though there’s still no change in his methods. He feels like he’s acting on instinct, like some need in his body has taken over and he can hardly think about anything but you. The way you smell, the way you feel around him— tight and wet— the way you’re looking back at him with this pleading expression on your face.
The sight of him like this is what sends you over the edge, and you cum with a whine, somehow squeezing him tighter than you had before. He follows you, burying his face in the smooth skin of your back as he fills you with warmth. The groan he lets out is deep and filthy, his breath tickling you and making you squirm. It sends him deeper, and his hips buck forward, keeping every single drop of him inside of you.
If this doesn’t take, he doesn’t know what will.
He avoids putting all of his weight on you by turning you both on your sides, hooking a leg through yours, and wrapping his arms around you so there’s nowhere for you to go— not that you’re in any rush to move. Not that you could with how exhausted you are from being tangled in bed with him for so long.
“Incredible stamina,” You tease as you try to recenter your breaths.
“We’re never doing that again,” He huffs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You laugh softly, leaning into his touch, “What time is it?”
He glances behind him to the clock on his bedside table, and you feel rather than see his grimace. “Eight,” He says reluctantly, knowing what’s about to happen.
You glare over your shoulder at him, “Aaron, I missed my show.”
“Maybe next time, you should tell me you want to have a baby on a day you have nothing to watch,” He says matter-of-factly, mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh.
“I always have something to watch.”
“I’d deem it a worthy sacrifice.”
His words make you smile, heart going gooey. Any grumpiness about your show fades as you nod softly in agreement, “Yeah, me too.”
“And sweetheart?”
“Hmm?” You hum as you lay back against him again, eyes slipping shut.
His lips are at your ear, his voice just a whisper, “I recorded your show. All of them, they always record.”
The smile on your face widens, making your cheeks ache, “You’re a perfect man.”
“I try,” He quips.
The two of you lay there for a while until he convinces you to clean up and order food. And as you sit with your feet in his lap, tuned into your show, Aaron glances over at you, his heart full. He hopes that this little slice of life you have together with get brighter with your growing family.
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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hi!! ur jake x tonowari fic got me thinking like ive been thinking abt ur writing for days.
imagine the both got back from an unsuccessful hunt together and the reader asked them if they needed any help after the hunt and they were like "yes 😈" and just hardcore smut
Stress relief
Jake Sully x female reader x Tonowari
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Words: 3.1k
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, mmf threesome, oral, p in v, pandoras mighty dilfs in action, rough sex, cum swallowing, poly relationship, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, kinda forced orgasm, spit roasting, squirting, praise kink, use of 'sir’, slight degradation kink too if you squint
Notes: I’m using that gif purely bc jake looks like he’s fucking someone and Tonowari talks them through it— 😩 (pls make sure to reblog, I feel like this is gonna get shadowbanned too)
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You’ve been waiting for them inside your marui pod patiently. The hours have passed painful slow without them and it’s not until the eclipse had started, that two familiar Na‘vi return to your shared home. Immediately, you jump to your feet to greet them happily, but the expressions on their faces are everything but. That could’ve mean only one thing.
"What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything today?", you ask them carefully, while the both set away their weapons, spear and bow. Tonowari purses his lips before he speaks with a sigh, "No, the Srakats were especially tough today."
"Don’t be disappointed", you smile at him gently, "I‘m sure you‘ll catch one next time."
Jake passes you to stow away some other things, but before he does, he leaves a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You should’ve seen us though, we put up one hell of a fight with those things." He’s says it so half heartedly, seemingly trying to cheer up the mood but still, your smile drops. They’ve been talking about nothing else than this hunt since yesterday, were gone for the whole day and are now probably very exhausted too, it’s no wonder they were frustrated. You can’t help but feel bad for them.
"Is there anything I can do to make you both feel better?" The question is innocent. You’ve been thinking about cooking them their favorite meal, you’re pretty sure you still have some meat stored, but with the way the two of them instantly look at each other… you could’ve only guessed that’s not what they have in mind.
Tonowari slowly closes the gap between you and him, his board arms circling your smaller frame and pulling close into a hug. You sigh against his warm skin, your big, oblivious eyes looking up at him through long lashes.
"I think there’s a thing or two you could do about that", he says slyly and your eyebrows rise. Behind you, you can hear Jake chuckle, "He’s been talking about nothing else all day. I’d say it’s partly your fault too, that he was so unfocused and we didn’t catch anything."
"M-My fault?", you blink at him over your shoulder and Jake hums in agreement. "You had him all hard and desperate, daydreaming about that cute little pussy aaall day." At his words, you swallow thickly and your gaze switches from Jake back to Tonowari.
"If I remember correctly, you were the one to plant such thoughts in my head in the first place", he chuckles, "Talking about all the things you were going to do to her once we‘re back. All that talking scared away the Srakats!"
You giggle at the way they’re teasing each other and suddenly, both pair of eyes land on you. "What’s so funny, sweetheart?", Jake tilts his head and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looks at you for a moment, eyes roaming over you body as he licks hip lips and crosses his muscular arms over his chest.
"Undress", Jake orders you with a stern look on his face. You’re dumbfounded for a second, like you’re frozen in place. But then Jake raises his eyebrows, prompting, and immediately you get to work, undressing yourself. You’re clumsy as you do, hurriedly untying your loincloth, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process and when it comes to your top, you struggle with the clasp. "A little faster than that, bunny. We don’t have all day. Unless you want me to rip it off of you, hm?" Quickly, you shake your head. You’ve spent way too many hours weaving that top, just for Jake to destroy it because he was too impatient.
The two tall Na‘vi stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your hands begin to tremble. Still, you somehow manage to finally get your top off and it falls to the ground next to your feet. Now you stand there, awkward and completely bare before them, obediently waiting for your next order.
You could feel their eyes on you and the whole situation made you feel insanely excited. In their minds, they were already touching, kissing, licking and biting on every part of skin they could see. You squirm a little and clench you thighs together, eager for them to make it happen. Tonowari then reaches out and gently brushes a thumb over your cheek and you close your eyes and lean into it, sighing. "Get on your hands and knees for me, will you do that?"
Oh he didn’t had to tell you twice.
Heat floods your cheeks as you drop to your knees, almost embarrassingly fast and Tonowari chuckles at the sight. Like this, you were almost eye level with his crotch and the bulge forming right under his loincloth was speaking for itself, proving to you, that what they had told you was true. He wanted you. So bad.
Tonowari steps closer and like this, you had to crane your neck to look at his face. The metkayina strokes your hair gently before guiding your small hands to the piece of clothing covering his crotch. Getting the hint, you make quick work of untying his loincloth. Once his clothing falls to the ground and his cock springs free, you gulp audibly. The hand that had been caressing your head then moves, his thumb slides over your bottom lip ever so slowly before he slips his digit into your mouth. He traces the edges of your teeth. "Remember, good girls don’t use their teeth", he smiles down at you and you nod, eagerly.
Your hands then reach out to touch his cock. It twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your clenched thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him before Tonowari guides your head closer, until he could feel your warm breath on the tip of his cock. First, you press a small kiss on top of it and Tonowari can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.
He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, relishing in the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.
Those licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Tonowari was a patient man.
You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. Tonowaris hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole village to hear.
Jake on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient. The only times when he would willingly take it slow with you and show patient was, when he was teasing you.
Behind your back, you could hear him move. You can’t really see him like this, but you know he’s there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he helps you in position –one hand on the floor and the other resting on Tonowari‘s strong thigh. With his own, he nudges your legs apart and makes room for him to kneel between them, so your bottom was hovering over his lap. His hands roam over your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and love bites behind.
"Where do you want me, sweet girl?", he whispers and his breath against the wet spots, where he had kissed you on your spine, make goosebumps appear on your skin, "Inside that cute ass? Or that tight little pussy of yours, hm?"
You exhale a shaky breath, lips still close to the head of Tonowari’s cock as you answer him, "Inside my… my pussy, please." Your wish is answered by a dark chuckle coming from behind you and two large hands begin to spread your soft folds, revealing your entrance to him. "Can’t deny such a filthy request coming from such a pretty girl", he hums.
With his cock in hand, Jake carefully prods himself against your wet opening. "Focus on me", Tonowari tells you right before Jake pushes the head of his cock inside. You gasp as he stretches you, sinking into you ever so carefully and slow. It still stings, thanks to his inhuman size and girth. "It’s okay, just breathe", Tonowari coos above you, holding your head in his big palms, "You’re doing so well, so good for him. He’s almost in."
When Jake had finally, finally, thank eywa, bottomed out, with every merciless inch of his cock shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Jake can’t help it when he presses his hips even tighter against yours. You could feel the tip of his cock against your cervix and then a small sob escapes your lips. You clench around him as your first orgasm takes over you so unexpectedly fast. "Fucking hell, she’s coming already", Jake pants behind you, the grip he had on your hips increases, "That pussy of yours, jesus fuck! Sweetheart, you’re gonna be the death of me."
Jake allows your body a few seconds to adjust and brace yourself, before he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing inside you in one go. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper.
Tonowari in front of you was still patient. With his hands, he holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the floor. He enjoys watching you fall apart on Jakes cock with only a few of his thrusts. But his cock hangs heavy in the hair, leaking pre-cum and desperately waiting for you to continue where you had stopped.
"Go on, baby. Wouldn’t be very nice of you to leave that big boy hanging, hm?", Jake muses when he recognizes the look on the metkayina‘s face. "Y-Yes, sir." Obediently, you place your plump lips over the very tip of Tonowaris cock, tongue poking the salty slit, and his mouth falls open.
Yours does too, just a moment later when you hollow your cheeks and take him further into your mouth, just barely a few more inches. His hips were trembling with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Jake had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging around him and could feel your second orgasm approach almost too fast for you to fully prepare yourself. You gag again as his thrusts push you further on Tonowari’s cock and you moan around him, loud and wanton and then you cum for the second time.
"That’s it, that’s the sound I wanna hear", Jake groans behind you
To the rhythm of Jake thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Tonowari. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, the size difference was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your small hands, you stroke every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.
The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming. Tonowari held your head up, one of his hands mindlessly stroking through your hair and holding them out of your face. Behind you was Jake, his tail affectionately wrapped around your thigh, while his hands were roaming all over your body. He switched between kneading your ass, to tugging on your sensitive nipples or simply holding your hips in a hard grip as he thrusts into you. You could feel your walls tighten once again, sucking him even further in, in an attempt to keep him there and when Jake brushes against your g-spot particularly hard, you fall apart again. This time, your legs almost give out under you and you’re glad for all the hands holding you steady.
Your eyes roll all the way back inside your head and you dare to close them for a brief moment and let yourself be taken over by the sensations, letting more drool collect in your mouth, to cover the cock that was sliding in and out alongside your tongue, and drip out the side of your mouth. "Open your eyes, little one", Tonowari groans above you and its followed by a throaty chuckle, "Can’t have you pass out on my cock."
You look up at him, tears picking at the corner of your eyes and you hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.
Your eyes widen even more, when you suddenly feel a pair over fingers glide between your folds and expertly find your clit.
"How many times did you come last night?", Jake asks so bluntly and unbothered, like he wasn’t currently fucking the very soul out of you. You can barely hear him over your own moans and the obscene sounds of you sucking Tonowari off. When Jake circles that little nub, you can slowly feel the familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core. Again.
"Hey, I asked you a question", he says sternly with a rough tap of his fingers to your clit, to which your knees buckle. You let your tongue glide along the underside of Tonowari’s cock as you slide him out of your mouth, the tip of it leaving your plump and spit slicked lips with a soft pop.
"Two or… or, oh fuck, three, I– I don't remember, sir", you manage to respond between heavy pants and moans and just to be mean, Jake circles your clit even faster. He was incapable of being as gentle as he wanted to be, as he needed to be, but the way you flourished beneath his rough touch, how you forced yourself to take more of both of their cocks into your tight little holes, undid him.
"Good. We‘ll make it four today, cupcake."
"Fuck Jake, I– I can’t take it, please that’s too much, can’t, I can’t!"
"You can, little one", Tonowari reassures you softly. With his thick cock in hand, he gently nudges the tip of it against your swollen lips, urging you to take him inside your mouth again and you despite your whining, you don’t hesitate to do so. "See? You’re always such a good girl for us. You can take it, I know you can."
"You really think we're that dense, don't you?” Jake tsks. The resentment in his tone doesn't match the amusement creeping into the edges of his features. "I think we know best what our precious girl is capable of, right? Think we know that sweet body of yours better than you do.” He tilts his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, his attention fixed on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggle with every thrust of his hips. He angles his own hips to brush against your g-spot expertly, while he rolls your slick covered clit in between his rough fingers. You moan around Tonowari’s cock so loud, they knew without doubt that even the last villager now knew what was going on in the olo’eyktan’s marui. And so, the knot inside your lower abdomen snaps. You come again, with a gush of slickness this time, that’s then slowly dripping down your thighs.
“Yeah, that does it every time", Jake groans as he feels you clench around him in a bruising grip. You steady yourself on Tonowari’s thigh, nails digging into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore —and that’s all it takes for him to cum, the vibrations of your moans around him sending him clean over the edge.
The olo’eyktan shudders, fist clenched tightly in your hair as he feels you swallow it all, throat folding around his cock. The motion itself makes him moan, praises as well as curses falling from his lips that you barely pick up over the sound of Jakes hips still snapping against yours. Slowly, he pulls away from your swollen, wet and reddened lips.
"I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Gonna fill you up all the way and– fuck, you better keep it in there until I’ll fill you up again", Jake pants and his rhythm slowly begins to falter. You do your best to squeeze around him, pull him in and hold him right there until he can merely pull out of you for more than a few inches and his thrusts become short and deep and desperate.
Until all Jake feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for. He’s flooding your core with warmth as he thrusts up into you, hard, for the final time. With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and flows down your thighs.
You nearly sob when he pulls away, leaving you feeling exposed and empty. An ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high. Right when your legs finally give in on yourself, you feel a pair of big muscular arms lay themselves around you and suddenly, your face is pressed against a hard chest and legs swung around someone’s waist. "Good girl, did so well for us", Tonowari coos and you could feel the deep vibration of his voice inside his chest. You lazily throw your arms around his neck and burry your face in the space of his neck, before you close your eyes with a sigh. Behind you, Jake places soft kisses on your shoulder, right after you’ve felt the warmth of his body closing in against your back.
"I knew you could do it, baby. I‘m so proud of you", Jake hums against your skin and their soft praises slowly loll you to sleep, hugged tight in their arms. In the back of your mind, you were already excitingly thinking about the outcome of their next hunt. Was it mean to wish for another unsuccessful hunt again?
Well. May Eywa forgive you.
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2K notes · View notes
delfiore · 8 months
Text
—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (3/5)
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pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader
synopsis: without ona, you find other ways to fill the hole in your heart, as the consequences of your own actions come back to haunt you.
word count: 7.0k
a/n: holy shit is this one long. some more cameos for the plot who are all good bros to our dumbasses in love 👍
PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V
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2018, 5 years ago.
You always hated it when your hands shake after adrenaline rushes. It felt debilitating, like you weren’t able to make rational decisions because all you could think about was trying to hide your trembling hands.
When your coach called you into his office, you were still cradling your right hand, the other pressing an ice pack to the bruise starting to form on your right knuckles. The way he pointed with his head for you to follow him—doing so without a word—reaffirmed that you were definitely in trouble.
It was a warm day in May, and yet you had two training sessions to complete. You were drenched in sweat afterwards, your body warm and buzzing like a furnace. Definitely not a good day to be pissed off.
Coach Dennis sat in his chair behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His lips were curling and jutting out like they always did whenever he was concentrating or trying to look angry. It made him look like a fish.
A silence followed, and then he spoke. “Are you aware of what you did?”
You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from blurting out something sarcastic. “I punched a teammate, Coach.”
“You’re aware that that could get you released, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked. “NYCFC has zero tolerance for violence within the first team, much less the youth academy.”
You lowered your head. Your hands were shaking much less now.
“May I ask why you did it?” Coach pressed further when he didn’t receive an answer.
So you told him. There was a group of girls that had been picking on you for years now. You were never the biggest or strongest, so you used your techniques to weave the ball through defenders, to make you stand out, and it pissed them off.
“So you punched one of them.”
“They were cornering me.” You said simply, looking up at him for the first time since the meeting started.
The man sighed and covered his nose and mouth with his palms. You might have reduced his lifespan by a decade right then.
“Y/N, I know you. I know you will stand up for yourself, and I expect nothing less from you, but this kind of behavior will not and cannot fly here. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I know you’ll be special one day.”
“Those girls are bullies, Coach. They don’t deserve to be here. You should be punishing them!”
“They will get their punishment in due time, but you still punched a teammate,” he said firmly. “You did what you thought was right, but violence is never the answer. You can’t punch your way out of everything.”
“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, trying to remain stoic, yet you were fiddling with your fingers.
“No. I’m blocking your Dallas offer.”
FC Dallas had been one of the top scouts that have had their eyes on you, and you had been working extra hard to impress them. This was your chance to break into their first team, and it was gone.
“You can’t do that!”
“Yes, I can.” He pressed.
“Coach, please—”
“Thank you, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You may leave.”
Leaving Dennis’ office, and walking down the hallway, your eyes caught Sara—the girl you punched—sitting in the infirmary, her face tear-stained, red, and blotchy. She had always looked at you with disdain, but now there was a fear in her gaze as she caught yours from far away. When she did, you got a better look at the damage you’d done to her face. You suddenly felt that shame you should have felt back in the office.
“Yo, Y/N,” you heard someone call when you were outside. “I heard about what happened.”
“You’re gonna lecture me, Gio? ‘Cause Dennis already did.”
“No, man. I was gonna say how badass that was,” he grinned.
A slow grin spread on your face. You shook your head, as Gio put his arm around your shoulder and you walked to the cafeteria.
You met Giovanni Reyna a few years ago when you first joined the academy. In a training session where both the boys and girls participated, you were paired with him for finishing drills. With a hard tackle, he’d almost put you in the hospital. Ever since then, you had been stuck to the hip. He was the first friend you made and the longest friend you’d ever had.
You’d stay another year at NYCFC, honing your skills, and avoiding another run-in with your bullies until the transfer window was near. You were still waiting for FC Dallas to call back, as you had for a year now. It was the only place you wanted, and while you knew it was risky to do so, it was your gateway to Europe through their partnership with Bayern Munich.
“Sara is going to the Red Stars, did you hear?”
“Dylan’s going to Orlando Pride.”
“I heard Hope and Mary-Anne are going to Roma and Lyon!”
You had tried to block out the gossip in the cafeteria, but it made you doubt yourself. What did they have that you didn’t? Yes, you weren’t the tallest or strongest, but neither were Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro. But maybe that was just it; you were not Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro, and you would never be.
Gio was leaving too, there had never been any doubt about that; his dad was a U.S. legend, and it was only natural that he’d give the best to his son. Besides, Gio might have been the next best thing after Christian Pulisic skyrocketed to fame within the past few years. The boy’s move to Borussia Dortmund was almost imminent, and people had been whispering about it for weeks, but you were the one he told first.
“When do you leave?” You asked, picking at the food on your tray. Gio and you were sitting outside having lunch.
“Beginning of June,” he said.
“I’m happy for you,” you muttered, voice cracking quietly, but a small smile remained on your face.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Don’t be sorry. This is a good thing,” you smiled, nodding as you grabbed his hand over the table. “I’ll just miss you a ton.”
“Hey,” Gio searched for your eyes. “I have no doubt that you’ll be scouted soon. I know it. I know you have what it takes to be at the top, whether it’s in Europe, or here.”
Your best friend left less than a month later. You had wrapped your arms around him so tightly and hid your face in his neck, afraid you might bawl like a baby the last time you saw him on the training ground. But you didn’t cry then.
You did cry, though, when Coach Dennis called you into his office again a week later. This time, instead of expressing his disappointment in you, he hugged you tight, congratulated you, and let you read the email that Portland Thorns FC sent to request a transfer for you to their first team.
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2023, present.
“You ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing football?”
You had just drifted off a bit when the voice next to you spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she wasn’t absolutely battered.
“Don’t know. Never had a plan B. Didn’t want to.”
“Right. But I feel like, I go to training, I kick the ball, people come and watch me, and then when I go home after, I don’t know who I am. It’s like . . . I’m nothing without the footballer.”
You didn’t expect your hookup to be opening up to you like this. You’d only just met her a few hours ago at a club. You had played against her a few times in the league but had never spoken to her face-to-face. Though not the best on the dance floor, she made an excellent dance partner in bed.
“Well, having a personality is overrated nowadays anyway.” You replied, closing your eyes again. “Nobody cares who you are until you fuck up on the pitch, so just don’t fuck up on the pitch.”
“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You have your starter place at City guaranteed.”
You ignored her and turned to the other side. A few minutes later, you heard the sheets shuffling, then the sound of a zipper. “This was fun,” she whispered before you heard your bedroom door opening and closing.
No barks, it meant Bratwurst was asleep, luckily for your ears. Most people you had been bringing home he had been barking at. You wanted to think it was him being protective over you, but he would bark at your teammates too when they would come over, except for one person.
Ever since you came back from the World Cup much earlier than you had anticipated, you liked to find company at clubs and parties. In your time of need, you’d found that you preferred sporadic ones, fewer complications, and headaches.
You were also invited to events; award shows, the British Grand Prix, and a few fashion shows. Those you never really bothered with, but they were chances for your stylist to go crazy with the outfits (which you never complained).
The only good thing to come out of those, however, was seeing Gio again at Paris Fashion Week. The moment you saw him, you gladly accepted it when he brought you into a tight hug, feeling like that 13-year-old again when you first met. You kept in touch over the years, but your schedules were always too different to ever meet up. But it was as if no time had passed, and the only thing that kept you both from talking till morning was that Gio needed rest for his rehabilitation training the next day.
“I’m going on a trip to Ibiza soon with a few friends. You should come,” he said.
“I don’t know, G. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t. I want you to come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you’re allowed to set me up,” you smirked and shoved him.
“I’ve seen the stuff that came out about you, Y/N,” he sighed. “Is it true?”
“I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s not what I meant. About you being seen at clubs day in and day out. What is this really about, Y/N?”
You know Gio wanted the best for you, even though sometimes he was too stubborn to admit it. You were too, but you loved him to bits. Maybe that’s why you two fit together so well.
“I let someone close to my heart, and it fucked me over.”
Gio nodded softly. “Well then. Just consider it a vacation. She’ll still be there though.”
“And you won’t make me go out with her?”
“As if I can make you do anything.”
Unless you were legally prohibited or physically unable to, you would never turn down a proper party. So there you were, on a yacht in Ibiza with your best friend and several other people in his entourage. Gio, that little shit, though having promised not to set you up, was elbowing you at a woman the moment she set foot on the yacht. Anyone with eyes would say that she was beautiful; curly hair, plump lips, and soulful eyes you could get lost in.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t hurt to try.
You went over to the bar where she stood and ordered a drink. Glancing behind your shoulder, you noticed Gio sending you a big thumbs-up.
“So, you are the one Gio keeps raving on about,” said the woman next to you. Her eyes were really pretty.
“I guess so. That’s me,” you let out a laugh, albeit shakily. “Am I everything you dreamed of and more?”
It was her turn to laugh. “He definitely mentioned your confidence, yes.”
“Well, then I’ll definitely keep you around for sure. But just so you know, I do other things besides kick a football around and look pretty doing it.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” you smirked. “I’m Y/N,” you extended a hand.
“Leena,” she took your hand in a firm handshake and raised her drink to you.
You took a sip, and watched her behind the glass, only to notice that she was looking back at you as well. “So, how did you know Gio?”
“I worked with him on a couple of photoshoots. I’m a photographer,” leaning against the bar with her drink, she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He was really nervous, said he didn’t like getting his picture taken. Luckily, I used to work with kids and animals back home in Finland, so making a full-grown man laugh for his headshots wasn’t too hard.”
“You’re from Finland?”
“Mmhm. I go back and forth between London and Manchester now, though.”
“Interesting,” you nodded inconspicuously. “I play in Manchester. Nice city.”
Before you knew it, the sun had started to go down, and it was time to drive the yacht back to port. As you all made your way to the exit to disembark, you waited for Leena before offering your hand to help her down the ramp.
Your group was to head into town, and have some dinner before going to a local music festival to finish the night off. It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, and you wasted no time in immersing yourself in the music. Gio and the others were long forgotten, and you found yourself enjoying your time with Leena much more than you had anticipated.
You told her about your job, and she asked about the World Cup. As much as you hated to talk about it, having declined several interviews and podcast appearances in which mentions of the tournament were inevitable, you told her everything she wanted to know.
She was so attentive and listened, even though you knew she didn’t follow the sport, and for that you were thankful. It has been a while since you talked to someone about how you felt and have them listen so wholeheartedly.
“Do you ever miss home?” You asked once the both of you had taken a break from dancing.
“Sometimes, but right now my wanderlust is bigger than my homesickness. I want to see everything the world has to offer.”
You swirled your martini on the standing table. “I’ve been away from home for so long, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”
“Well, I think home is where you make it.” She lay a hand on your bare arm, caressing it slowly. “If you’ve already made a home at this age, what else is there to do?”
Your eyes trailed along her arm up to her face. Your heart slowed, and the music seemed to have faded in the background. Despite the chaos of the festival, several drunk people dancing next to you, and your friends have already disappeared somewhere, you suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Leena.
But it wasn’t her that you wanted to kiss, not really. You wanted to kiss her because it reminded you of familiar feelings, to have someone in your corner that you didn’t have to pretend to. But of course that was all based on a lie.
As she reached into your martini to pick up the olive pick and held it out for you, you bit down gently on the fruit and let her pull the pick away. You smiled bashfully.
“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” you cleared your throat. “Do you want some fries too?”
You needed to get out of there before you did something you regret and ruin a good thing, again.
The bartender was off once you’d given him your order. Whilst waiting for the drinks, you looked around for familiar faces and spotted Gio and a couple of his friends “dancing” to the music in one corner, clearly quite inebriated.
“Y/N.”
You turned around and wished that you didn’t. It was Ona, looking at you like you were some sort of alien.
“Ona,” you breathed.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with friends.” Now would be a good time for those drinks, bartender.
She nodded. “How are you?”
“Fine,” you said too quickly. “Congratulations by the way, on winning.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“You guys deserved it. No matter who’s trying to take it away from you, you did, and you should celebrate it,” you meant it and tried to force a smile that adequately expressed your sentiments. Needless to say, it would be easier to be saying this to one of her teammates, anyone but her.
You remembered the night she broke your heart, the night when you left your heart by the sidewalk as you trekked all the way home on foot.
That was three months ago, and with all the distractions you’ve indulged yourself in, somehow it still ached.
The bartender handed you your drinks just then, and you were off.
“Y/N, wait.” You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry . . . for what I said, how I said it.”
“No, I think you made your point very clear, Ona. Have a good rest of your trip.”
“Y/N, I did feel something too! I did!”
Ona felt like biting her tongue at the look you gave her when you turned around, the two glasses of Negronis dangling in your fingers by your side. She had almost regretted it when your lips trembled, and your chest rose and fell as if an implosion was imminent.
You took a large step towards her and exhaled. “You don’t get to do that. Not after I’ve tried to do everything to forget you. You can’t do that.”
Ona opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would only add to your fury.
“I hope you’re happy by the way.” You said mockingly. “Seeing that you got what you wanted. Winning the World Cup, moving back to Barcelona. Hope you’re happy. Bye, Ona.”
She watched unmovingly as you walked away from her, back to a table where a woman was waiting, and pulled her towards the crowd to dance. She found herself returning to her group, not being able to get the image of you swaying behind the woman with your arm around her neck out of her mind.
What kind of sick joke was the universe playing to make her see you right when she was supposed to be enjoying her days off? Maybe it was her punishment, having broken your heart then practically fleeing the country immediately after.
“Where’s the drink, Ona? You were supposed to get us some,” Lucy questioned her when she came back.
“Oh, sorry. I thought I saw someone.”
“Oi, is that Y/N? Y/N!”
“No, please don’t.” Ona grabbed Lucy’s arm, and quickly pulled it down.
Realizing Lucy didn’t know about it, she knew she was going to have to tell her one way or another. Surprisingly, Lucy didn’t laugh or tease her about it after hearing the entire story. They were back at their hotel, with another bottle of wine passed between them, and Ona told her new teammate everything.
“You were under our noses the whole time, and we didn’t even realize,” Lucy snickered with a shake of her head.
“Yeah,” the night had taken a toll on her, and Ona started to feel the effect of the alcohol as she lay staring at the ceiling. “Have I made a huge mistake? Letting myself be involved in all this.”
“Obviously, but the heart wants what it wants. Trust me,” the brunette took another sip from the bottle. “It is a hard situation, but she needs space, as much as you can give her so she can heal.”
“Sounds like you’ve been through it before,” Ona smirked and poked her with her elbows.
The older woman only laughed. “Something like that.”
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As hard as it was to accept the truth, Ona had to move on. She didn’t have a lot of time to mope around, however, before she knew it, the season had already begun. Barcelona had always been a place to return to, and the team needed someone who had Barcelona in her DNA to complete the defense.
It was all going swimmingly, too much so even. The season started out slow, but they grabbed the wins when they needed them. Then it was time for the Champions League draw. Barcelona had been drawn into a group with RSC Anderlecht, AS Roma, and Manchester City.
Just her luck. She’d have to see you twice before the year ended. Barcelona would be going to Manchester first.
With her chance encounter with you in Ibiza still fresh on her mind, she joined the queue for warm-up, looking up every once in a while in case she spotted you. When she did, you were standing by the sideline talking animatedly to your other former teammate Keira. She tore her eyes away before you could notice her, and swallowed that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Longing for your American girl?” Mapi said with a smirk.
“Shut up,” Ona mumbled, jogging away to do stretches. “I knew Lucy would blab.”
“So Lucy knows? I was just making an educated guess from the way you keep making those sad puppy eyes at her.”
“At who?” Ingrid appeared from behind.
“Y/L/N,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend with a smirk, and Ingrid gasped excitedly.
“Oh my god, Y/N Y/L/N?! You guys would be so cute together!”
“Guys, come on. We have a match to play,” Ona groaned and begrudgingly jogged away. Just before she started her sprints though, she snuck one last glance at you, when you briefly looked back. As if having been burnt just by a look, you quickly said goodbye to Keira and went back to your half to continue warming up.
“Do you think they were already together?” Ingrid whispered at Mapi.
Mapi sighed, “Definitely.”
Ona started that match on the left, as Lucy also started and occupied her usual right side. You were playing on the right this time to allow Lauren Hemp to be on the left wing. It meant there would be none of her usual duels with you.
Ever since Lucy’s slip-up in the World Cup final, Ona knew she had been more cautious in defense and stayed back most of the time. It gave her the opportunity to set up passes deeper whilst also keeping you at bay, the tactic Ona herself used at United and one she knew you absolutely despised.
Sure enough, you stupidly went up against only one of the best fullbacks in the world. Your dribbling and speed were to your advantage, and Lucy—with all her experience and knowledge of your play—easily controlled you at the flanks. So you tried inverting inside, and Lucy followed you too, if not Irene did.
Man City was pressing high, giving the offense plenty of opportunities in the box, but Barcelona was better in defense. It was only when a precise lofted ball was sent past the back line, that Lucy was trailing after you. You went down just outside of the box. As everyone was getting ready for the free kick, you were still on the ground. Your ankle had been stomped on by Irene during the struggle.
Ona quickly jogged over and put her hand over your shoulder, “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Don’t put your hands on me,” you seethed, swatting her hand away, just as the physios came over and sprayed your ankle. Just moments later, you were able to stand up, but you never spared her another glance.
As much as it stung, she clenched her jaw to stop the tears and got ready for the free kick.
Barcelona ended up winning 2-0, a stellar start to their UWCL campaign. While Ona went to shake hands with several players from the opposition, she looked for you, seeing you walk towards the stands. You took pictures and signed for some people, even gave a little kid your shirt, but she saw the way you lit up when talking to someone in the crowd. Upon closer look, it was the woman you were with in Ibiza.
Your smile was blinding as Leena was led down the pitch towards you. “Hi,” you breathed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Of course I did. You gave me tickets, remember?” She brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry you lost, but it was very entertaining. I took lots of pictures.”
“Of me, I hope?” You smirked.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N.”
Smiling slightly, you brought her in for a side hug. “Thank you for coming,” you kissed Leena’s cheek. “Means a lot.”
Ona was watching the entire interaction, fuming on the inside. Lucy and Mapi knew to steer clear of her path once they returned to the dressing room by the glower on her usually affable face.
SportsPro Media: Y/N Y/L/N Seen ‘Smiling’ After Man City Lost to Barcelona in Women’s Champions League Group Stage “Fans have taken to social media to criticize the winger, 21, after she was seen smiling and conversing with fans at the stands after a 2-0 loss to reigning champions Barcelona. The criticism came after several of Y/L/N’s teammates on the USWNT were also condemned for their overt optimism after barely making it out of their group in the Women’s World Cup this summer. Among the critics was former USWNT international Carli Lloyd. Y/L/N was also seen getting more than friendly with her rumored girlfriend, whom the winger was spotted on holiday with in Ibiza alongside U.S. men’s team’s Gio Reyna after a shockingly early World Cup exit. […]”
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When the second round of the group stage came around, you were much better prepared. Though you were playing away in Barcelona, Man City were preparing to win. You were definitely training to do so, so when the starting XI lineup was posted on the door in the dressing room, you were stunned when your name wasn’t on the list. You had been benched before—it was all part of the game—but only during less important games or for your own recovery, but never during an important game like this.
“Gareth, can I speak to you, please?” You said, gritting your teeth when the gaffer opened the door in his office.
“Of course,” he gestured for you to follow inside. “Take a seat.”
You remained standing. “Why am I not starting for the Barcelona game?”
“I’m doing what I think will be best for the team, Y/N.”
“By benching me? You need me!”
“Easy, Y/L/N. No one is above the club, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” Gareth’s tone was despicably calm, yet no less menacing.
You took a deep breath to compose yourself. “I want to know why, in an important game such as this one.”
“It seems . . . that you might have a personal reason as to why you want to start this game, but I have to rotate the squad and—”
“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? What personal reason?”
Gareth sighed. “I’ve been informed that you’ve had a personal relationship with one of Barcelona’s players that didn’t end too well.”
“So? What does that have to do with anything?” You all but yelled.
“I’m making a decision that I deem best for the club, and you and every other player will listen because I am in charge!” Gareth had never yelled, not like this. It made you flinch. “I will not have my players’ private life bleed into the performance of the team. Now, you can either support my decision or I will have you removed from the squad traveling to Barcelona, and replace you with someone else who will put the team above their own interest.”
Your mouth is sewn shut, just by the sheer shock at what the manager had just said. You stormed out of his office without another word, slamming the door open to mask what you were truly feeling inside. It wasn’t fury—you were beyond that—it has turned into fear of being replaced; fear of being left behind.
Man City drew that match, and it was just enough to send the team to the quarterfinals, having done it entirely without you. Gareth had made up a bullshit excuse to the press to make you stay home.
Your agent, Toni, was much more furious for you, saying what he did breach the contract you signed and that you should be taking action. In the five years they have been your agent, you have never had to endure that much legal talk over a club issue before. You’d be amused at their passionate rambling if you weren’t already nursing a headache.
“I think you should leave, Y/N,” they finally said after getting off the phone.
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But where would I even go? I don’t have any offers yet.”
“You will, once the news comes out that you’re looking to leave the club. You only have one year left on your contract anyway, plenty would seek to employ you.”
You had been through this before. The waiting after letting it be known that you wanted to leave was the worst, but you weren’t just a nobody anymore. You were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would have it your way one way or another.
“Alright, then.” You nodded firmly. “Let’s have a talk with Gareth. I’m not gonna scurry out of this club like a rat.”
Goal.com: Y/N Y/L/N Looking for Man City Exit After Tension With Boss Gareth Taylor “Sources within Man City are saying the American winger could be on her way out of Manchester this summer. The player has reportedly ‘fallen out of favor’ with City gaffer Gareth Taylor after ‘expressing her vexation over lack of playing time’. The 22-year-old was left out of the squad traveling to Barcelona for the 4th group stage match of the Women’s Champions League altogether and has since featured in significantly fewer matches for the Citizens. Several European clubs are reportedly keen to sign Y/L/N, but she could also be making a return to the NWSL for what could be a record signing in the women’s game yet. […]
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Though you were scared, it was much easier to let go of a burden that you have been carrying around for so long.
Which was why you had agreed to come to a concert with Leena when she had asked you. You would let yourself have fun and connect with someone without being scared anymore because what Ona did to you had nothing with who you were, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pay the price for it.
Needless to say, you and Leena had a great time. You were been walking back to your car in the parking lot when you saw a flash. You sighed and walked Leena towards the passenger side.
“Get in the car. Don’t come out, okay?” You told her with a smile, which was quickly wiped off once you saw the photographers approaching.
“Y/N, are you leaving City? Where do you think you’re going next?”
“Did you have a fight with Gareth?”
“Y/N, are you going to Barcelona?”
You entered the car with an exasperated sigh. Your breathing became heavy as you attempted to start the car, and your hand started to tremble.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Leena spoke softly. “Don’t let them get to you.”
She placed a hand over yours and squeezed it softly. Finding her eyes, you nodded gratefully, and drove away, trying your very best not to run those imbeciles over.
You went back to her apartment where you both ordered some takeout. Over a movie, you talked about anything and everything.
It was like that with Leena. Somehow, she has made you feel okay with pouring your entire heart out in front of her, her caring eyes and encouraging silence taking away your doubts about looking like an emotional fool in front of her.
But the moment you saw her eyes dart back and forth between yours, then down to your lips and leaned in, you froze. You wanted this, only because it would be good for you, but you couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry, Leena. I-I—” Jumping out of the couch, you stuttered like a broken record. Of course, she would have read it like that, you couldn’t blame her. You didn’t quite know what you wanted, but all you could think about was how different it was to kiss Leena than it was to kiss Ona.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
She didn’t try to stop you. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She might as well have been just as shell-shocked as you were by your reaction. You bolted out of there as quickly as you can, like a coward.
Unsurprisingly, Leena hasn’t tried to contact you. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be pissed at yourself too. It seemed everyone was pissed at you these days.
Chloe approached you once in the weight room to ask if you were leaving. You could only offer her an apology, but she brought you in for a hug. You would miss her the most.
Meanwhile, Toni was working tirelessly on your next move, and all you could do was train and be the best footballer you could be while you waited. Even if Gareth didn’t deserve your effort, your teammates did, and you owed it to them to give it your all until the day you left the training ground for the last time.
There was only one destination you had in mind, but going there would mean having to confront your serial one-night stand that you were possibly in love with, who also didn’t share your feelings.
You couldn’t let that deter you from ascending the football hierarchy, though. You couldn’t, and you won’t. You would do it one way or another because it was where you deserved to be. You would show Gareth that he was wrong about you.
“I can’t believe you’re going to Lyon! That’s crazy, Y/N!” Gio said over the phone. He was the first person you told and was ecstatic when you did.
“They still haven’t sent anything official yet, but it’s looking like it, yeah.”
“Well, what happened to the Barcelona deal?”
“My agent was flipping out when I said no, but then this deal came two days later and now they’re flipping out again but for a good reason.”
“That’s awesome, dude! I’m happy for you!”
“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I’m not there yet or something. Lyon wants me, but they’re freakin’ Lyon!”
“Hey, I know all about imposter syndrome, alright? But you can’t let that keep you from playing at one of the best clubs in the world.”
“Don’t let Dortmund hear you say that,” you smirked.
“Eh, we know where we are. That’s why we sold Erling and Jude,” Gio spoke. “Point is, they want you. They clearly see how good of a player you are. So get your ass over to France and show them that!”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re right.”
“Alright, gotta go. But hey, let’s go for a drink next time you’re in town. Hopefully, by then, you’re a Lyon player.”
You ended the call and got up to go take a shower. Just before you went to the bathroom, though, your phone rang again.
Grinning, you picked up again, “Look, if you’re telling me you’re gonna set me up again, I swear to god, Gio.”
But you didn’t hear Gio’s voice or teasing laugh. Instead, there was a shaky sniffle on the other side.
You checked the caller ID, and it was an unknown number. From Barcelona.
“Hello?” You said, unsure.
“Hey, Y/N. I just . . . just needed to hear your voice.”
You sighed because you knew exactly who it was. You had etched the cadence and tone of her voice into your memories during the many nights you’ve spent together.
“It’s Ona, by the way.”
“I know,” you nodded. You didn’t quite know how else to carry on this conversation. “I heard Barcelona’s beautiful this time of year.”
“Yeah, it is,” she said, sniffling again. “You should see the beach at sunset. It’s great. I go and sit there almost every night.”
“Are you drunk, Ona?”
“No, no. Maybe a little bit. Just a little bit though. I had two glasses of wine. Or else I wouldn’t have the courage to be doing this. Just like I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I had feelings for you too. Have, I still do.”
You closed your eyes and shut off the water. Then she said it again, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. I think about you all the time. And I know you might be with someone now, but I just can’t . . .”
She started crying again. “I can’t go on without telling you anymore.”
“This is incredibly selfish, what you’re doing, Ona.” You were close to tears too, hearing how much this hurt her.
“I know. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I’m sorry for hurting you. If I could take back everything I said, I would. I’m so, so sorry.”
You took a deep breath and sat back down on your bed. “I forgive you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was selfish too,” you said quietly. “You should go to sleep. You have a Champions League final to play tomorrow.”
You ended the call before you or she could say anything else.
“Shit,” you mumbled and threw yourself back onto the bed. This was exactly why you had to say no to Barcelona, even though it was your dream to play for them. Alas, it started to feel like a mistake.
You dialed Toni. “Hey, um, please don’t kill me for asking this, but could you reach back out to Barcelona and tell them I’m very interested?”
“I knew you’d pull some shit like this so I’ve stalled them. They don’t know we’re negotiating with Lyon, and would probably be fine with setting up a call soon. It’d be a headache to handle Lyon, though.”
“That’s why you’re the best agent in the world, right?” You smiled sheepishly.
“We’ll see, Y/N. We’ve got some leverage for now, but it’s not guaranteed that Barça won’t say no.”
“Thank you, Toni!” You hung up the phone.
ESPN: Barcelona Completes Signing of Y/N Y/L/N from Manchester City on World Record Transfer Fee “Manchester City W.F.C. has agreed to sell USWNT winger Y/N Y/L/N to Barcelona on a £485,000 record fee. This transfer surpasses Keira Walsh’s own move to Barcelona from the Sky Blues in 2022 with a fee of around £400,000. The signing of the summer was finally completed after several clubs have been reported to enter the race. Olympique Lyon was also close to acquiring the 22-year-old’s signature, but the deal broke down in late June when the player repeatedly expressed her interest in joining the Catalan giants. A technically gifted forward, Y/L/N can play on either side as a winger, and occasionally as an attacking midfielder for the national team. Her impending arrival at La Blaugrana would provide a boost in attacking power to an already impressive Barcelona side. […]”
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“Jesus, you look like someone murdered your mother or something. Liven up, please.” Mapi smacked her Ona on the shoulder.
“I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” the younger girl muttered, fiddling with her fingers.
She could hear voices outside the dressing room getting closer. At the sound of your voice, her ears trained. She remained facing her locker, trying to occupy herself until you came in. She really felt like throwing up.
You greeted Aitana first with a quick hug, Marta too, then Lucy brought you in for a spin and released you for Keira to go in for the hug.
You said hello to Mapi and Ingrid, both of whom hugged you tightly.
Then you were in front of her. She had expected you to not even look at her, after what she had said over the phone. But you smiled a genuine smile, the one you used to give her whenever the world was a little too hard to bear.
Ona remembered everything. From the sheer hatred and resentment to the lust and sleepless nights under the sheets, to the longing and heartache she endured away from you.
“Welcome,” she whispered quietly, afraid you might not reciprocate her greeting.
Instead, you pulled her into you and held her tightly.
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a/n: i’ve decided to add some lore for our y/n, lmk if you like it, if you don’t like it, if you think it’s too long and you just wanna get straight to the smooching :)) there’s more to come but now the stakes 😌☝️ are higher now that we have some info on what makes y/n ticks. i’m going back to college this week so updates might come later but yeah pls let me know what you think!!
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toastnpretzels · 2 months
Text
home
relationships: crosshair x reader
masterlist
word count: 733
warnings: angsty, fluff, there's an unexplained relationship between the reader and crosshair, kinda left it up to interpretation whether you think they were together before or if it was just them having feelings for each other.
season 3 episode 4 spoilers
author's note: i have not posted a fic in so long. ive been so busy but that doesnt matter. the new episode had me feeling some type of way so here you go. its kinda short but i didnt want to expand without seeing hunter and wrecker's reaction to crosshair being back.
thank you for any support whether its likes, reblogs, or comments <3
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“I had help.”
The last few months had been terrible. From losing Tech and then losing Omega to the empire. Spending everyday looking for her with no success. Nothing was ok. All of us were miserable. Our family was being torn apart and there was nothing we could do about it. It couldn’t have gotten any worse.
Getting the comm from Omega was one of the best things to ever happen to us, but seeing her running down from the ship was even better. Embracing her, knowing she was safe, felt better than anything had. Things were starting to feel right again. All it took was one hug from Omega.
But then he walked off the cargo ship and everything in my body froze. He looked so different. He had been gone for so long that I thought the feelings had disappeared. Seeing him there, I knew they never were.
I forgot what it was like to be near him. I forgot how my heart sped up and how my head felt dizzy. I forgot how he smelled and how warm he was. I forgot how much I loved him.
-
After Kaller, nothing was ever the same. He wasn’t the same. The chip had changed him. The Empire had changed him.
He let us go on Kamino. The same day you had told him you loved him. On the platform before we left, with tears in my eyes. I told him I loved him.
“You shouldn’t.”
“Crosshair, please,” you whispered. He could hear the way your voice was breaking. You couldn’t lose him again.
When he didn’t say anything, you turned to walk away. Typical Crosshair to not say anything. He grabbed your wrist as you started walking.
“I love you.”
You stared at him. Your tears threatened to spill out from his confession.
“But I can’t come with you. You deserve better. This is where I want to be. With the Empire.”
I should have dragged him to the ship. I should have done more. But what more could you do when he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be with the Empire.
Why couldn’t he have just came with you that day?
-
No one moved. Everyone was just as shocked to see him. No one knew what he was going to do, how he was going to react. He had tried to kill us before, but he had also let us go. No one trusted him anymore. You chose to remember how he had let us go.
You were the first one to move. Slowly, I stepped out from behind Wrecker. Every step I took towards him was filled with anxiety. It had been too long.
He doesn’t want to see me.
Is he still him?
Why did he come then?
Why would he still be here if he didn’t want to be?
You stopped a few feet in front of him. I could see how tired he looked from where I was standing. I couldn’t stand seeing him like this. It hurt so much. He had been through so much since Kamino.
What did they do to him?
I couldn’t stand there anymore. I ran the few feet that were left in between us. I wasn’t sure if he would push me away. As I got close to him, I fell right into his arms. I didn’t realize just how much I had missed him until this moment. He wrapped his arms around me in the tightest embrace I’ve ever had. It had been too long since I had felt him. He was safe. He was here.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a few minutes, so quietly that you barely heard it.
I looked up at him. He had tears that were threatening to spill over. Your heart broke at the look on his face.
“Shh. Not now. Just let me hold you.”
You stood there for what felt like an eternity just holding each other. Quiet tears were spiling from both of your eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered into your hair. His arms tightened around you again, as if he was afraid you would disappear.
It would be hard to forgive. Hard for everyone, not just you. So much had happened. But for now, all that mattered was that him and Omega were safe. Omega was home. Crosshair was home.
“I love you too.”
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neonghostlights · 6 months
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Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)
★ A/N: Whoop, Whoop. It’s almost time for the fluff. Not in this chapter though, please read the warnings.
★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.
★Chapter Summary: Reader wakes up in the hospital and some confessions are made
★Warnings: READER IS IN AN VERBAL, EMOTIONAL, AND PHYSICALLY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP (not with Eddie) SOME OF THE ABUSE IS DESCRIBED, hospitals, IV, pain, injury, car accident, arrest, death, threats of killing someone and violence, drugs, angst. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS IS TRIGGERING AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE MISSED ANY WARNINGS (18 + ONLY MINORS DNI!!!!)
★Wordcount: 2.2k
Series masterlist
Chapter Eleven: Make It Go Away
Date Unknown
You had been asleep, at least you think you were. Everything had been a blur since you got pulled out of the car. 
Your back hurt. Well, everything hurt but you could really feel your back aching against the hard hospital mattress. You knew there were worse things to worry about in your life right now than the comfortability of a hospital bed but you wanted to allow yourself a little moment of selfishness. 
The nurses and doctors put stuff in your IV that made you feel warm and fuzzy. Whatever it was that they drugged you up with wasn’t strong enough to make all of the pain go away or for your mind to shut up. 
You weren’t even sure how long you had been here.
 Days? Hours? Weeks?
There wasn’t a point when you woke up suddenly. You had just gone from a state of slumber to waking gradually and slowly. You think that your brain was still thinking thoughts when you were supposed to be dreaming peacefully, making being awake right now even more disorienting. 
You could remember the accident which you figured was a good sign. If you had brain damage you probably wouldn’t be able to recall the smell of alcohol on his breath or the way he was screaming in your face while speeding through traffic. You didn’t even realize that the car was going into the incoming traffic until you saw the headlights shining in your face. 
And then that’s when the crash happened. 
It was slow motion, the way the car hit the other car and then before you knew it your world was flipping. 
People ask you a lot of questions after something very disorienting happens to you. The worst part is they expect you to know the answers. 
You hummed a sigh, rubbing the scratchy blankets between your pointer finger and thumb. You’d have to make a donation to this hospital when you got out. You’d make sure to write on the check that it was specifically for them to get better sheets. 
You laughed a little at the thought of it. 
It was amazing how quiet it was here compared to how loud it was before. When you first got here there were a lot of people talking to you, shining lights in your face and poking and prodding you. 
Then you got moved to whatever room you were in now. Now that you thought about it, you had to have passed out a few times because of the gaps in your memories. 
You do remember the yelling though. Someone had been outside of your room yelling in what you had assumed was a hallway. You figured you would just check on them after your nap. 
You went to sit up. Maybe you should check on them now. It seemed like the right thing to do after all of the damage you had caused. 
“Nuh-uh. Don’t do this again here. Lay back down,” a voice commanded. You felt warm, calloused hands wrapping around your upper arms, guiding you back down to the bed. 
You fought them, not liking the way they were making you move in the opposite direction than you wanted to go. 
It reminded you of a lot of times Collins hands had been on you. It made you panic, your breath getting faster as you tried to struggle against him. 
“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Please,” you cried, throat rawer than you had expected. You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for. The apologies had never worked before with him but it never hurt to try. Maybe he would show you some mercy after all you had been through. 
The voice shushed you. 
“Everything’s okay. I just don’t want you to rip out your IV.” It was soft voice, sleepy. It was gentleness and caring all wrapped into one. It was a sound you had heard all through childhood. It was a sound that you associated with home. 
It wasn’t Collin. 
It was Wayne. 
“Wayne?” You croaked out, bleary eyes finally cracking open to take a look at the man. You felt the warmth pooling in your eyes and start to run down your cheeks at the thought of him being here.
“It’s okay, darlin. Don’t cry,” he said softly. You could barely make him out between your heavy eyelids and your tears. You felt a sob build up and release from your chest. 
There was a knock on the door and a nurse popped in, speaking to Wayne in hushed tones instead of to you directly. 
“Talk to me,” you begged through a whimper. 
She told you what you already knew. That you had been in an accident and under some heavy medication but that you were okay. She said something about getting the doctor before she whisked out of the room quickly. 
“He’s gone down stairs,” Wayne turned to you and said as soon as the door clicked shut. “He just had to go get something to eat and take care of a few things. It’s the first time he’s left you since he got here. He’s gonna be so torn up that you woke up without him here.” 
You weren’t sure exactly who he was talking about but you nodded pathetically anyway. 
You could see Wayne a little better now. It was dark in the room, making you think it was night time without even looking out of the window. There were little nightlights shining that gave just enough light to make out his face. 
He looked tired, worn down. You hated to think you were the cause of his pain. He had more wrinkles than the last time you saw him, and a little less hair. How long had it been since you saw him? Years? 
You opened your mouth to ask him the question that had been on your mind when the door opened again. 
He looked even worse than Wayne. His hair was disheveled, eyes red and tired. You hadn’t seen him this messy since he got a stylist and publicist. His frame seemed so small, but his voice was undeniable. 
If this was a trick of your brain it would be a sick one. You felt like you were in shock, floating out of your body at the sight of someone you had once known and loved so dearly.
But you knew all too well that that love never truly disappeared no matter how much you tried to avoid it.
“I-I heard the nurses talking and I tried to get back here as soon as I could. You’re awake for real this time,” he said as he approached your bed with a wobbling lip. 
“Eddie?” You asked, thinking that this could be a dream. Waiting for the Eddie look alike to clarify that you were hallucinating and that Eddie wasn’t here nor did he care. 
“Hi,” he said, confirming it was him as he took your hand in his shaking one. “How are you feeling?” 
What a loaded question. How does one person feel after something like this? Was it more shocking to announce that you were more shocked to see Eddie here than to be waking up in a hospital bed.
“Confused,” you admitted, politely, like you were talking to an acquaintance and not like you were talking to your best friend of many, many years. “Why did you ask if I was really awake this time?” 
Eddie bit his lip, staring down at where your hand fit into his. His thumb swiped a few times against the back of your hand and the gesture made you lower your guard slightly. 
“You’ve done this a few times. You’ll wake up some and try to get out of bed or cuss me out.” Eddie smiled at what you were assuming was your choice of colorful language to throw at him. “But then you’d go back to sleep again for a while.”
“How long is a while?” You questioned, trying to push yourself up in the bed with the hand Eddie wasn’t holding onto. Your muscles trembled and protested, weak, so you gave up and laid your head back down on the pillow, turned to look at Eddie who was perched on the side of your bed. 
Eddie and Wayne shared a look before Wayne spoke, “about three days.” 
“Three days?” You repeated, shocked. 
Eddie nodded slowly. 
“Is he-,” you started but needed to swallow a bit before you could get the words out. Your mouth was horrendously dry, it felt like sandpaper and it wasn’t helping the heavy load of the words you were about to say. “Is Collin dead?” 
Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter before letting it go. He ran a shaky hand through hair, not once but twice before he stood up and walked across the room. 
“No. He’s not dead,” Wayne drawled from beside your bed, a concerned eye kept on you to judge your reaction. 
“But he fucking should be,” Eddie scoffed from across the room, fists clenched in his side. “I wish I was able to get in that fucking place. I swear I would-” 
“Eddie, that is enough,” Wayne demanded sternly, sending him a look that was silently telling him to shut up. 
“Wait.” You tried to sit up again and Eddie was immediately at your side, setting the head of the bed up slightly and adjusting the pillows behind your back to make it easier for you. 
“What do you mean? Where is he?” 
“I’m gonna give y’all two a minute. This old man is gonna go get himself a cup of coffee,” Wayne said as he pushed himself up from the chair, grimacing from the pain in his knees from sitting for too long. “I’ll be back,” he said with a wave before walking out the door.
“Eddie,” you begged. “Please. Tell me.” 
“He’s in jail,” he said carefully after he took the spot Wayne was in beside your bed. He reached for your hand again but you jerked away, trying to comprehend the words that were coming out of his full lips. 
When you didn’t say anything, he kept going, “They took him for reckless driving, possession, driving under the influence and evading the police. I’m sure there will be more charges by the time it is all said and done.” 
Your stomach turned. He had to be so mad, so mad at you. You had to get away. You couldn’t let him think that you had any part in this. 
Eddie saw the panic clear on your face. 
“Look at me,” Eddie demanded, voice frantic. “Has he been hurting you? Has this been going on the whole goddamn time?” 
You looked at him, unsure if you should tell him the truth. It was obvious by the way you had reacted right? This wasn’t normal, none of it was. It felt strange for Eddie to not know what had been happening to you. It felt like everyone else in your circle knew but were bound not to say anything. But Eddie really hadn’t been a part of your circle in a long, long time. 
It felt wrong to confirm it, fear gnawed in your gut that Collin would find out. That he would know that you had told and that your punishment would be severe. 
He might really kill you this time. 
Eddie knew what you were thinking. You knew he knew just by the look on your face and the fear in your eyes from being trapped in a body that was too weak to flee for safety. 
He just wanted to hear you say it. He needed the confirmation to further torture himself. 
Eddie could read you. He always had. Lying would be so pointless at this point. 
“He left you there. Did you know that? He got out the fucking car with only a few scratches and ran. He didn’t care if the car was on fire or if you were inside. He didn’t care if he killed someone that night because he fucking ran. So don’t bother protecting him.” 
“I’m not protecting him, Eddie. I’m trying to protect myself.” Your voice cracked at your admission, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
Eddie was closer to you in an instant, hands wrapping around you as he pulled in close to him. 
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Eddie said, his own voice cracking and tears wetting your hair. “No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise.” 
“What are we going to do?” You asked, pulling away and looking into his tear soaked face. Your best friend looked like he had aged a lifetime from the worrying you had put him through. You had a feeling he had some stories of his own to tell from the time you had been apart. “I can’t go out there anymore. Everyone is going to know and I can’t take the way everyone is going to look at me or what everyone is going to say,” you were going frantic, realization setting in at what this meant for you, your image, and your career. 
“I know what we’re gonna do. It’s not going to fix everything but it’s going to give everything time to calm down and give you time to heal,” Eddie told you, wide eyed. 
“What?” 
“We’re going to get out of LA. Just me and you.”
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bbunivxrse · 4 months
Note
AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao
❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO
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pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY
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so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.
as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.
if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.
obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 
waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 
incoming call from gojo.
its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 
“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned
“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 
“no.” 
“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 
“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 
“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 
“what?? n-“ 
“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'
getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?
checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 
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training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’
you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.
in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.
finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 
you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 
within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 
“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.
“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 
“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 
“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 
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“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 
“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 
“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.
after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 
“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.
as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 
“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 
“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.
“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 
“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 
“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.
as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 
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i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext
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givemequeen · 6 months
Text
thats all that matters: anakin x reader
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request:hi. could you please do a anakin x reader fic where ani comes back from a long mission and they have a little fluffy reunion and they missed each other a lot a/n: ive been waiting for this one! turn it up! (ps. this is acc an extract from a fic ive been working on. hopefully i can turn it into a long fic. lmk if you guys would wanna see that) word count: 437 (rly short)
“Ani?” you called out to the darkness, your voice low and unsure. You were stood under a  fluorescent Felucian fern; its large size provided you some cover from any wandering Jedi. Not that you needed it; hardly anyone visited the Temple’s gardens on the top floor, and ever since the start of the Clone Wars, fewer and fewer Jedi came to visit the mystical gardens.
“Yeah, its me.” you could tell he was smiling even before he stepped around a cluster of mushrooms you were pretty sure originate from Endor, you could hear his smile in his voice.
As soon as you saw him, you broke into a run and leaped into his open arms, almost toppling him over. In that moment, you completely forgot you were in the Jedi temple, it was just you and him. No sneaking around, no secrecy, just your love for each other.
He pressed his face against your shoulder and tightly hugged you, his arms wrapped around your torso. His familiar scent enveloped you like a warm hug as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.
"I missed you so much, Ani," you said, pulling away slightly to get a good look at his face. He kept his arms around you, pressing your bodies together, and his face broke into a warm smile, the type of smile that could light up an entire room and was extremely contagious.
“I missed you more, my love.” he leaned in to kiss you; he tasted nice. 
“You had been gone for so long.” you pouted. “And we couldn’t even talk!”
Anakin’s latest mission had been hard on you both. He had been sent to Kessel on a no-comms mission to gather intel on some Separatist plot. But that didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was now. His arms around you, his lips against yours. You didn’t know how you were going to say goodbye to him again.
“I’m sorry.” he always apologised, even though it wasn’t his fault. “You know how things are…” he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and smiled down at you. “But let's forget about that, okay?”
You nodded and, standing on your tip-toes, gave him a quick kiss. You could feel that gorgeous smile of his against your own as you kissed.
Anakin pulled you tight against him once more, desperate to feel you close to him. You could feel the way his heart rapidly beat against your chest. His warmth was nearly overwhelming, but not quite.
"We're here now, together." he kissed the top of your head. "And thats all that matters."
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cybercl0ne · 10 months
Note
not sure if u do requests but I found ur blog recently and have been OBSESSED. I was thinking if you could do an arrange marriage fic for aizawa. I would absolutely DIE if u did. It can be any AU i wont mind since whatever u write will be amazing! I know it 💗💗💗
Will do! I love you so much. I wrote this trying to best fit my other pieces of work, so I hope you like it and I'm sorry I took so long to reply but I'm here now *plays graceful music*
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Summary: Your father sells you to a man that knows you from UA.
F/M (she/her)
A/N at the bottom!!!!
TW: Abuse, mentions of Abuse, Fathers a massive dick (again), massive Angst, 18+, slow burn, porn with plot, murder, Aizawa is Yandere
You tried to keep your head down. You wanted to speak. You felt the words you wanted to say bubbling up in your throat, desperately trying to simmer.
"Don't disappoint me Y/n." You fathers booming voice bowelled. His intense aura making you feel smaller than you already were compared to him.
"Yes father." You spoke, still trying to maintain a put together face. You were slightly confused as to what was going on but would never voice it as you learned where talking out of line got you. Your mind hissed at the memories of the endless nights of torture your father would put you through just so you would never talk 'out of place' again.
Unimpressed your father scoffed, watching as the car rolled to a sudden stop. He let himself out, leaving you to bear the responsibility of fear. His assistant opened the door, his heart sharing the same hole as yours. "Good luck miss." He whispered, cheering you on knowing that this tiny act of kindness could get him killed. You gave him a warm smile innocent but filled with bloodshed, wanting to be in his shoes, even as a assistant for a man like your father. At least he could escape. At least he wasn't wasted down by the overbearing responsibilities you bared.
His shoes were different from the feet you walked with. You quickly and quietly made way to catch up with your father who still ignored your existence for as long as possible. He stepped through the sleek sophisticated door, you behind his large frame.
Life has never been fair to you or your family. When you were born your mother fell ill causing her to be hidden from the outside world. Sometimes when you’d have nightmares you’d curl into the warmth of her bony chest, watching as her warm arms wrapped around you. She’d reassure you countless times, kissing your temple. But now those days were gone. You no longer could run into your mom's touch, watch her smile glow up the room full of iv drips and medicine.
"This is Y/n. Shes the one that you will be betrothed." Your fathers familiar booming voice declared. You stood shell shocked, not wanting to believe what your eyes had soaked in. "N-no...H-he didn't say that." You blinked a few times to make sure you weren't stuck in some messed up nightmare but found you were very awake.
Your father nudged you as he placed his hands on your shoulders and activated his quirk, burning into the cloth of your clothes. You wasted no time, bowing before the strange man. "She might be a little untamed but I'm sure you'll figure it out." He said, throwing you at the man that stood before you.
Your face was nothing but mortified as you saw your father walking out of the room, still sharing the same uninterested look at you as when you were born. "F-father?" You scampered towards him, scraping yourself and ignoring the man that you fell into. He shared nothing but a simple scoff.
You blanked as your world flipped on its side. You saw your father looming over you as if he had put something rotten in his mouth. The glint that he shared between you sent your body into hives and shivers.
"I am not your father. Don't call me that." "If it were up to me, I would've never had you." "I would've sold you off to some man any day, but it appeared he was the only buyer."
"So, play nice now."
As soon as he spoke your body reacted with the only reaction it could. You hauled forward, your body rejecting everything. As you threw up all over the poor man's floor you noticed the sleek black shoes your father always wore disappear behind the black door.
You desperately reached for his long-gone presence. tears and snot uncontrollably free falling in front of you. "P-please father!"
"Don't leave me! Don't leave me behind! I-I'll be good!" Your heart wrenching words dissipated into thin air as it would never reach your targeted audience. The only man in the room however rushed to your side, immediately comforting you.
You watched as the world went black.
You woke up with a heavy migraine, your brain trying to forget the part where your father basically admits to hating you at birth. You hold your stomach as you try to muster an emotion other than grief and freedom mixed but you find yourself unable.
You look around realizing that your environment was completely different from what you knew. The spacious room overwhelmed you and the man that laid across from you spoke danger. You quickly huddled up into your legs as the strange man stirred in his sleep, transitioning to a woke state. "W-where am I?" You spoke, your voice faint and hoarse. You cringe at how little words fall from your mouth. "My house." The man utters.
You decide to take a good look at him, taking in his gruffy patch under his chin, his eyebags and his ragged black hair.
"Shota? -"
Both of your faces light up upon remembering a distant name from the past.
"Hi y/n." He breathes a breath of relief. You grabbed him immediately, embracing him tightly as he stood stunned, unsure of weather to hug you back and risk never letting you go.
"I thought I'd never see you again." Aizawa Whispered softly afraid you might float away from how light you felt in his arms. You let go, examining his face once more, fighting the urge to pepper it with soft kisses.
"Oh Aizawa..." "I-I'm so sorry..." You stuttered. You felt immense guilt as he talked his worry of you onto you.
"I had to leave UA. I wanted to be like you, a teacher but my father..." You choked, not sure if you can even call him a proper father. All he ever knew was pain.
"Don't worry. You'll be ok now." He reassured, lightly stroking your head. You whimpered into his chest, carving small circles.
For the first time in a long time you could feel yourself breathe. It was like you no longer had to cover your mouth, or act like you were stepping on pins and needles. You were free.
——*a few months later*——
You thought you’d hate the idea of marriage. Being tied down to a lover, or whoever your father would put you with in the end. But Aizawa was determined to erase any mark that monster had placed on you, and that started with the roots itself.
Since Aizawa was a pro hero he was fully aware he could never kill the villains he pursued. But the more Aizawa held you at night and watched you wriggle and mewl in your sleep made the reasonable thoughts broil. He knew he just had to do something. He stepped downstairs at after finalizing his plan, seeing you downstairs preparing him another beautiful breakfast that he felt a little bad that he wasn’t gonna eat. But there would be many great meals that he’d enjoy with you after he got rid of the lingering problem.
You looked so peaceful with your hair tied up and idling in one of his t shirts, never failing to look like a supernova even in the groggy mornings. He couldn’t resist and had to feel you from behind if even to just get the smell of you in his mind. “Hey baby” Aizawa’s groggy and rasped voice croaked. You startled, jumped as he wrapped his arms around your waist, rocking you side to side to let you know it was him.
“Hey honey. You ready to eat?” You asked, spatula in your hand but your attention all on him. He loved the way you’d fill his stomach with butterflies like he was a teenager again when you looked up at him with trust.
“No sorry sweets, I’ll pass but I’ll be back to eat later.” He didn’t fail to miss how you deflated a bit but perked back up after he hugged you tighter you perked back up.
“Well alright. Just be back in time for lunch or dinner.” You nagged like a wife. You caught yourself on the words, visibly flashing a hand to your mouth. He laughed, thinking about how little you changed through the years, even through high school you were shy and reserved but around him you loosened up unintentionally. It made him feel like he had done right. He’d been told by many peers and other of his students that he was scary, but deep down Aizawa cared, just was very used to acting like he doesn’t.
He planted a wet kiss on your face, exiting the warm feel of your embrace, looking back at you one last time for a fond memory until he gets back from doing a little “errand”.
He watched from afar at his victim. He watched as he left in his black car that had been in his rear view. Aizawa watched as the tall buff man exited the car and into his esteemed home with no car in the world. He looked as if he had no concern. It made Aizawa want to erase him even more. Aizawa followed close behind posing as a pro hero just put on patrol. He banged on the tall door that assisted the tall lowly man.
The door shot open as his tall stature sank to the front door. “What?” His booming voice rang. Aizawa could tell why this voice hurt and scared you so much but Aizawa was determined to make sure you never wind ear of a melody as broken as his. The man was visibly puzzled when he saw no one was standing at his doorstep. Shrugging it off and grumbling back inside his domain. Aizawa, already one step ahead, was inside his house without anyone or anything hearing/noticing. He promised the job would be clean and quick, all so he could have as much time with you as he wanted for the rest of both of your lives. He watched as the man sat in his office with a state of the art tablet, focused on whatever shady business he was indulging in. Aziawa made no effort to hide any longer revealing himself to the perpetrator that taunted the love of his life for so long under the radar. “What are you doing in here? Who let you in?!”
“Y’know you should do your research a little better.” Aizawa spoke, ignoring his past comment. Aizawa quickly and hastily poked the knife he placed at his knee to the grown man’s neck. And without second thought he slashed. He made sure the cut were clean and watched as blood splattered from his neck. He made little to no noise. Only choking on his gurgles of blood.
He quickly dipped out of the crime scene leaving nothing behind. He was aware that your father had ties and Allies, but with those allies were his enemies. Enemies that hated him with a diehard passion. Some of his Allies were backstabbers anyway, but your father was blinded by his power that he failed to even realize that you were what was keeping his business up. With you being there and as his weapon made him powerful but alone his quick could be quickly outmatched.
Aizawa shrugged, concluding that he’d fall down the ladder sooner or later but just decided to speed up the process. By now it was late and he knew that he probably had a worried wife at home waiting patiently for his arrival home. His heart fluttered, leaving behind the murderous acts where they belonged.
As soon as he stepped through the door he was happily greeted by you jumping at him wrapping your arms around him. “Where have you been?” You asked worried. You scanned his body for any marks of harm but when you found nothing you warmly hugged him again. “Sorry I’m so late honey.” He whispered into your head. He picked you up holding his lips to your face. You scrambled under him to put you down.
“Aizawa! Put me down you maniac!” You laughed, clutching onto him as he walked to your bedroom. “But I missed you so so much darling.” He teased, placing you gently on the bed to pepper your face with kisses. He towered over you showering you with deep love.
You both paused to look at each other, both lost in the way the other looked. He gently lowered into you, his eyes intoxicated with a potent that had you falling deep into his lips. You both share a loving kiss Aizawas hands not knowing if they should roam down your body. You grab his hand after breaking the kiss and bring it up to your left breast.
“It’s ok Aizawa.”
“I trust you.” You clearly spoke into his ear. You watched as his face shared a bright dusk of blush as he slowly allowed his hands to travel down every curve and slope of your body. You shivered under his touch, mewling and mumbling under him.
He found his way to back to your breast, playing and toying with the hard nipple that formed from his touch.
“So fucking beautiful.” He muttered. You tended up as the words registered to your ears. You noticed the bulge that grew in his pants as he kissed down your stomach, his eyes pleading for permission. You nodded as he pulled and teased at your already wet panties that now fled attention to the floor.
“You’re so fucking wet for me princess.” You hid your eyes as he played with your slick that was soaking his fingers as they played with your entrance.
“No, no, no sweetie, don’t look away. Be good and look at your man playing with your sweet cunt.”
You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his two fingers coying with your needy cunt. You watched as his fingers lodged their way inside of you. You quivered at the new feeling of something wriggling inside of you. “So damn tight for me baby.” He whispered as he fixated all his attention to you pussy. You wiggled and moaned as he stretched and prodded at your needy hole.
“p-please”
“what princess?” He stopped, looking at you. You lifted your leg to brush against his raging bulge. You felt it twitch against your touch and watched as Aizawa seethed with pleasure.
“Tell me what you want” He demanded.
“Y-you.”
Aizawa clicked his teeth, freeing his cock from his pants. You saw how it laid out on your stomach. You imagined how easy you’d tear from how big he was. You were completely new to this, and a little intimidated by the girth and length of his twitching cock.
He pumped his member testing and readying it at your entrance. “Don’t worry baby, it’ll fit.” He soothed playfully. You flushed at how he petted your stomach as he stabled himself inside you.
You both seared with how tight everything felt. You felt the world spin as pain and pleasure mixed beautifully. You greedy pussy pushed for more of Aizawa’s cock as he paused to let you breathe.
“You’re doing so well for me princess” he kissed your teary face. “Is it all the way in yet?” You whimpered. He lightly chuckled, and shook his head softly.
“we’re not even half way darling.” He spoke. You felt yourself stretching and clamping around him as he thrusted his way inside you. You felt how his cock crawled into your cervix and deep inside your womb. You felt the way your pussy throbbed for harder movements.
“P-please keep going.” You voiced.
At that moment Aizawa lost control and started pounding at your womb. You felt your ass shake as skin collided with one another. You watched the small bulge in your stomach disappear and reappear every time he rammed in and out. Soon you start to feel the sensation of your stomach coiling around him. “Aizawa i-I’m gonna-“
“don’t worry I’m going to cum to baby.” He grunted. You watched as your cunt slicked more and more as his thrust became deeper and stronger. You grasp onto his back, leaving your own special mark on him as you screamed and moaned his name.
“That’s right baby, my name is the only name you need to know.” He panted. You felt the coil in your stomach snap as you started spasming around him, coating his cock with your cum. Not too long after you Aizawa chases his own high, nearing his climax.
“g-gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you with my children baby.” He said as he thrusted.
Your mind started going blank as he kept pounding your soaked and overly sensitive pussy.
“Y-yes please fill me up w-with your lovely cum.” You panted as you both stared eachother in the eyes.
You felt his cock explode and coat your womb with his load. You felt how his cum traveled its way inside you, some of it overflowing out of your twitching womb.
The room was filled with moans and pants, the room smelling of fucked out sex and the feeling of hot bodies touching each other.
Aizawa laid against you for a moment before pulling out, gaining a whimper from you and how the empty pop of his cock leaving your pussy made you shiver. He placed you in his chest, you still feeling weak and your legs still shaking. “I love you y/n.” He said, breaking the silence. He planted a kiss on your head, when he heard no sounds or reply he glanced and saw how you were peacefully sleeping on his chest, bundled up and face beautifully resting.
The next morning you woke up and next to you, Aizawa resting peacefully, arms around your waist. You kissed his nose and watched it scrunch up as he moved in his sleep. You quietly giggled while trying to escape his grasp. You went to the bathroom to clean the sticky sensation from yesterdays ‘nightly activities’.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, clean and new you traveled back to the bedroom to throw your clothes away when Aizawa’s rustling made his presence.
“Where are you going honey?” He asked groggy with his eyes still closed.
“sorry to wake you baby.” You kissed his forehead, waking up from the sudden movement of his love trying to get out of his embrace too early.
“Come back to bed.” He whined. You indulged him, laying back into his needy embrace.
He rocked you and wrestled you around and soon you both were play fighting in the bed.
“Aizawa stop that!” You playfully cried out as he tickled you. “Stop? Stop what? Oh this?” He tickled again over you. You kissed his lips and you both fell into a deep make out session. When you both break the kiss Aizawa just takes a second to watch you. Look at the love of his life. “Y/n please marry me.” He spouts. Your eyes glow as he hugs you waiting for your reply.
“Really?” You stuttered.
“Of course, you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve actually wanted to marry you since high school.” He admitted.
“Really?” You flushed, soon you two were having a conversation on how you both like each other in UA but never acted on the feeling. It was like you both were in high school again. Your heart felt fulfilled as you watched him ramble about how he was so into you and you never knew.
You cuddled up into him listening to him call you his wife.
A/N: hey y’all! Thanks to these two people who sent me a message! When I saw them I literally felt so fulfilled that I started on this last night. Sorry it took so long but it’s not done I still gotta do part 6 of Falling for a dead rose so see you then.🫡
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waynewifey · 9 months
Text
aftermath — b.w
part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’
part two - ‘aftermath’
part three. - ‘aporia’
summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.
pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader
genre: drama & angst romance
warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement
word count: 2.9k
A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you���ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!
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gotham, USA.
the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.
your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.
but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.
"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.
bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.
"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.
"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."
you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.
"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.
"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.
"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"
you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.
"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.
"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?
"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.
— DENIAL
you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.
bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.
it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.
you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.
"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.
he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.
"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.
"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.
"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.
"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.
you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.
bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.
— ANGER
the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.
bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.
alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.
shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.
bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.
it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.
"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."
it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.
you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.
alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.
"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"
part three - aporia
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ariundercovers · 3 months
Text
Homeward Bound (When Paths Cross Pt. V, Javier Peña x Reader)
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Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)
Length: ~3k words
Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?
Chapter Summary: After three weeks away on work trips, you finally come 'home.'
Chapter Warnings: good mix of porn and plot in this one. p in v, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, safe sex, pushy javi (but never in a sexual way!), javi lacks impulse control. another brief moment of angst but it resolves quickly.
If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!
PREVIOUS PART (IV) HERE
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It’s been three weeks since you’ve been able to stay over on a Sunday night. 
As you prep for a new installation of an exhibition with additional courier responsibilities, terse mornings in the office have taken you out of state and out of town for continuous weekends. You’re miserable - you miss your Peña boys, very much so. You miss Chucho’s company and you miss Javi’s… everything. 
You call as often as you can which is, admittedly, not all that often. 
By the end of the third week, you’re starting to worry that Javi might have forgotten about you or written you off entirely. You know that’s just your own worry and self-consciousness showing through, but you can’t help it, regardless.
At the end of those three long, exhausting weeks, you finally trudge home on a Friday night, your cab dropping you off just outside your apartment. You haul your suitcase up the steps and into your small loft, the added exertion only serving to exhaust you even further. You wheel your suitcase inside and close the door behind you, moving so you can lean backward against it, eyes closing as you take a few deep breaths. 
It’s good to be home, really, but all you want to do is throw yourself in bed and sleep for the next twelve or fourteen hours. Sighing, you open your eyes and pick yourself up off of the wall, dragging your suitcase back to your bedroom. You drop it on the floor next to the door and kick off your boots, flinging yourself into the bed. It’s comfortable, and you don’t want to move, but you force yourself to roll to your side and grab your phone off the end table, dialing the only person, as it turns out, that you want anything to do with when you’re this tired and miserable. The phone only rings twice.
“Muñeca?” Javi’s warm baritone trembles through the speaker, lighting up your body with its warmth.
“Hey, Javi. I just got back.” You can practically hear the smile through the other end of the speaker as he chuckles on the other end of the line.
“Good. I was starting to think you ran away from me. How are you? It’s been a long few weeks, feeling okay now at the end of it?” You nod and then answer with a hum.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Exhausted, but all in one piece. I’m just happy to be home. Did you stay out of trouble while I’ve been gone?”
He chuckles again and sighs. “A perfect angel. Nothing to report. Just don’t ask Pops what he thinks.” You giggle at the joke as he pauses for a beat. After a heavy breath on his end he asks, “Can I come to see you?” 
You sigh, a bit exasperated by the thought of it, but you consider it, anyway. You really do want to see him. 
“It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I’m sure I won’t be very good company at all.”
“Have you eaten?”
You pause, not wanting to answer. You can’t lie to him. 
“No. I’ll eat in the morning.”
Javi sighs through his teeth - it’s a sharp sound that conveys to you his disappointment. “Absolutely not. I’ll pick something up on the way over. You need to eat, cariño. Even if you kick me out right after, let me bring you something to eat.”
“But Javiii…” You whine, annoyed at your own voice. When did you get so whiny?
“No, cariño. Food. What do you want? Anything. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
You give in, offering him a suggestion for something you’re in the mood for, and you curl up on the bed, planning on just resting your eyes for a long while. After falling asleep accidentally, you’re awoken by the loud sound of persistent knocking at your front door. You jump slightly, standing and stretching your limbs before you trudge to the door and open it up, greeted by one beautifully bronzed and mustached Tejano.
“Javi-” You smile, just his presence alone lifting your spirits, and he lifts the food in his right hand with a smirk as he pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind you. He sets the food down on the couch for a moment, turning and gathering you up in his arms. His grip is tight, warm, and comforting.
This, it turns out, feels far more like coming home than walking into your apartment did. 
The scent of his cologne and his leather jacket permeate your senses, settling you with ease as you allow yourself to melt into his arms like putty. “Muñeca… I missed you. Pops has been unbearable without you around.” You smile into his jacket and sigh, pressing yourself against him fully.
“Oh? You just miss me keeping him at bay, huh?” He laughs - a few short breaths through his nose - and then leans down to nuzzle against your hair, nosing at the spot just behind your ear. Your hands wrap tightly around his waist, clinging firmly to him.
“Among… other things.” He chuckles again and trails a hand up to your chin, ticking it upwards with his index finger so he can lean in and kiss you properly. It’s a slow kiss - maybe the slowest you’ve shared so far - and it feels like it sets your skin completely alight. When he pulls away, he smooths a hand down your cheek before he offers you a lopsided smile and a slow breath.  “Food has been delivered. Want me to go now? Let you relax?” 
You shake your head frantically and tighten your grip, unwilling to let go.
“Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere, Mr. DEA.”
He laughs and of course, obliges you. You have a seat together on the couch, wrapped up in his arms as he sits and eats with you, taking turns sharing a recollection of your missing weeks for a long while. He cleans up the living room before you sleepily tumble into bed together, barely bothering to strip yourselves of your clothing. 
He wraps you up in his arms, hands stroking whatever strips of exposed skin he can reach until you find yourself falling into the most glorious dreamless sleep. He follows shortly thereafter, body cradling yours and keeping you safe and warm under the sheets.
~~~
Javi wakes before you do, stirring you from your dreamless slumber with the scent of fresh coffee and a bag of donuts. Groggily, you sit up as he rubs your back, urging you awake.
“What time is it?” You ask.
“Quarter to nine. Thought you could use the extra sleep.”  He holds up the bag to you as if it’s an offering. “Breakfast? Made it myself.”
“Oh I’d bet you did. Krispy Kreme bag label and all, huh?” He shrugs nonchalantly, that distinctive smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips once again. You share a quiet breakfast in bed together, with Javi’s side pressed up against yours against the headboard as you pick at each other’s donuts. It’s comfortable in a way that you haven’t felt with someone else before - at least not for a very long time, you think.
You take your time finishing, chatting easily all the while, before you announce your intentions to take a shower - alone. Javi’s look is one of severe disappointment, immediately offering you the saddest puppy dog eyes as he begs you to let him join you. Ultimately, the pleading face he gives you cracks your resolve in an instant. You let him join anyway with the promise of keeping his hands to himself.
And, Javi does, in fact, behave in the shower. You’re truly surprised but, save a few brief wandering hands, he largely keeps them to himself and lets you bathe quickly and efficiently. You feel remarkably better and refreshed not that you’ve washed the feeling of airline travel off of your body completely. 
When you get out, however, all hell breaks loose. No promises were made for how he’d behave after the shower, so in no time at all he has you pressed up against the countertop, leaning over you as his lips attach themselves to that tender junction between your neck and collarbone. He has you caged in, unable to move anywhere but exactly where he wants you to be. One hand reaches down for your thigh, hitching it up over his own hip as your core brushes against his rigid length. You gasp at the contact, his searing heat sending sparks down your spine.
“I’ve missed you, Muñeca…” You giggle and roll your hips forward slightly as one of his hands slides between your legs, thumb brushing lightly over your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes fall shut as he leans forward, lips finding spots all over your cheeks and neck to kiss and nibble at. You’re putty in his hands, like always. 
He works you quickly to the edge on his fingers, pulling a powerful orgasm out of you that leaves you breathless and shaking. Then you drop to your knees and take him into your mouth, hands massaging circles into his hips as his body tights and cums deep down your throat. Neither of you are sated, and you both know it.
You drag him into the bedroom and throw him down onto the sheets. Well, he assists - he’s a big boy - but you definitely urge him into position. Throwing one leg overtop of him, you straddle his waist, grinding against his deliciously hard cock as you lean down and kiss him furiously.
“It was like hell not being able to see you, not being able to talk to you, Javi… and not being able to touch you, either? I thought I was going crazy.” He chuckles and returns your affections, kissing you back with just as much feverishness as you’re feeling right now.
“So did I, cariño. I can’t tell you how many night I had to suffer… laying in bed thinking about you over and over again. It was torture.” You nuzzle your forehead against his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lower jaw before biting at it lightly. Hips rolling against him, you can practically feel the blood rushing back to his cock as you work him over.
“I need you, Javi. Please- fuck, I need to feel you so badly.” You whine into his ear, body mercilessly rolling along his as your slick starts to coat his shaft. If you move your hips just right, you can feel the tip of his cock notch at your entrance and then slip back out, begging you to just sink down onto him already. He groans, head dropping back in frustration as he tugs your hips upwards and off of him.
“Hold on, baby… I need to go get a condom-” Whining, you fall forward, throwing your bodyweight across his chest. 
“Javiiii… I’m on birth control. You don’t have to.” He sighs and laces one hand into your hair, softly tugging as he lifts you up just enough to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Can’t be too careful though, bonita.” You groan but roll off of him, not willing to push it any further, however much you really don’t want to wait for him to go find one. He comes back quickly, rolls it on, and lays down, pulling you back ontop of him as he enters you in what feels like the blink of an eye. Immediately, he has you whimpering on his cock, whining and moaning as you bounce up and down with ease. With your eyes closed, every movement and feeling is intensified - the way he fills you so fully and completely, his greedy hands gripping into your hips, the way he has his thighs propped up for you like you’re sitting in your own personal throne.
You’re lost to it. Lost to him, really.
It’s not long before the two of you are tumbling over the edge together, a melted mess of moans and ‘so perfect’s and ‘missed you’s and ‘so good’s. You praise each other endlessly, a cacophonous chorus of each other’s moans and syllables as you come down from your respective highs. Somewhere in the post-coital haze, you register Javi wiping you down with a cloth and then curling into you on the bed. It feels safe, warm, and perfect. It’s everything you didn’t have while you were away, and everything you didn’t realize exactly how much you missed, either.
The rest of the morning goes by in a repeat fashion. You nap for a few moments, wake up, ravage each other once more, and inevitably fall back asleep. Over and over again, you find a calmness and an equilibrium in each other's bodies that both of you were severely missing while you were away.
Eventually, you both get hungry. The donuts could only do so much to satisfy you long-term. After getting out of bed - finally - and cleaning up, you set out for something to eat. Javi drives the two of you, keeping the windows wide open as you listen to Santana the entire drive. The tex-mex place he picked out wasn’t too far, only a fifteen-minute drive or so, but it feels like a lifetime with the way your stomach is gurgling at every turn. Once you’re finally seated and have ordered, he reaches across the table to grasp your hands, pulling them up to his mouth as he kisses your knuckles with a smile.
You settle into easy conversation together, recounting your past few weeks to one another. It feels natural, like second nature. Everything just feels right. 
You really, really did miss this.
When you finally finish up, Javi helps you out of your seat with a chivalrous and well-placed arm, walking you outside and to the car with his fingers laced in yours. He drives you back to the Peña farm, where Chucho embraces you with the warmth and strength of a real father figure, making you feel so comfortable and loved that you don’t ever want to let go.
“Chiquita,” He addresses you. “You’ve been well missed, here. Javi has been insufferable.” You giggle at the comment and squeeze him a little tighter until he lets you go finally, holding your shoulders as he looks you up and down. “You look exhausted.”
“Yeah. Long couple of weeks. I’m just glad I’m finally home.”
Home. You think about that concept again for a moment, trying to consider it. It seems to keep coming up these past few days.
Home was starting to get pretty complicated for you. It wasn’t the northeast anymore, but it wasn’t your apartment, either. It was starting to feel more like the Peña house, really, but you know it hasn’t been long enough for that to really be viable. You shake off the thought and reassure Chucho, instead.
“And it’s good to see you. I missed you, too, Chucho.” He smiles and offers a curt nod.
“Stay for dinner. We’ll do a Saturday meal instead, keep you here a little longer, hm?” He heads off to the kitchen with a smile and Javi steps up to you, squeezing your shoulder.
“Care to take a walk with me, cariño?” You agree, of course, and he leads you outside, starting to lead you down one of the many footpaths across the large acreage of the farm. You settle into an easy conversation, then, talking about any and everything. It was carefree again, until you asked about his work.
“Why’d you decide to come back to Laredo, after all that time in the DEA? Chucho always talks about how into it you were.” He sighs. It’s a long, suffering one that makes you instantly regret asking in the first place.
“It’s a long story I’d rather not get into.”
“Oh. Sorry… I didn’t mean to overstep, Javi.” He shakes his head and looks over at you with a stern expression.
“‘S alright. Just, uh… change of topic? Why don’t you tell me about back home?”
There’s that word again.
Home.
You’re not so sure what to do with it. Where even is ‘back home?’ You’re certain he means back up North, but it doesn’t feel right to call it that, not anymore.
“Oh, you mean where I’m from? Back up North?”
“Yeah. What’s it like? I spent some time in D.C., training, but haven’t been further than that, really.”
“Well… it’s a lot of cities. Every two hours that you drive there’s a big city, pretty much. Washington D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, New York, Boston…  And you can keep going. Life gets oriented around them. Things here are… simpler, I think. Less hustle and bustle. I like it.”
“Yeah? You like sleepy Laredo?”
“You don’t?” You’re surprised, to say the least. Why bother coming back if he didn’t like it in the first place? Javi shrugs it off with a grunt, shoulders raising with a grimace.
“Never did so much. Spent a long time just wanting to get away. Go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”
“Then why’d you come back?”
“When I left the DEA, I was lost. Didn’t have anywhere else to turn to. So I came home. Figured I’d retire, settle down and help Pops out. You know just as well as I do that he does way too much around here without asking for help.” You laugh sarcastically for a moment.
“Yeah that is true, absolutely.”
“Don’t think I even knew what else to do. This is all I know. Laredo, and DEA.” The conversation lulls as the two of you continue to walk until you finally speak up, an unasked question hovering at the tip of your tongue.
“Think you’re gonna stick around?” He slows and stops in his tracks, turning to face you as one hand reaches up to brush his thumb across your cheekbone. You can feel a heat rise to your cheeks slightly and he smiles at your reaction to him. The tone in his voice is playful, teasing, even, when he answers. You know what he’s implying, even if he won’t say it out loud just yet.
“I don’t know. Are you?”
~ ~ ~
a/n: Lil' bit of a cliffhanger on this one. Trying to set up some things to happen later on. I love all of you who are following along! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so appreciated! xoxoxo
Taglist: @amyispxnk @picketniffler (lmk if you'd like to be added!)
NEXT PART (VI) HERE
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modelbus · 3 months
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hi!!!!! im new but ive read a lot of your work and its amazing!!
anyway, i was wondering if you could write a either hurt comfort or childhood friends to lovers, as a cc!tommy x fem!reader ?
it would mean a lot thank you !!! 🩷🩷
Why not both? Cue evil grin, mwahaha ;) ALSO! I’m back with that mcyt stuff!!
Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader
Fighting Friends
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You’ve known Tommy for as long as you can remember. Apparently memory formation starts when you’re about 6, so you knew there was a time before him, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.
There’s a photo on your desk, framed with a cheap plastic frame. Both of you as kids, him wearing sunglasses and holding a Nerf gun up to your head as you’re caught in the act of stabbing him with a foam sword (he shot you in the forehead after the photo). The picture just about sums up your guys’ relationship. It doesn’t need to be worth a thousand words, just two: fucking chaos.
Or, that’s what you two normally were.
It was a stupid argument, even you knew that. A silly remark you took too hard, something that stung too deep. He said it during a vlog, too. A quip about rather dying than dancing with you. And with those few words, you stupid crush-addled heart shriveled up and was shot through.
So you had retaliated with a poor jab, and he didn't get it, and it all blew up in your faces. To the point where your messages have sat empty for three whole days. There's no "GET ON MC" message from him, no impromptu "Movie now." Just pure radio silence.
And you hate it.
You loved Tommy. Adored the hell out of him, unfortunately for you. And not just because you had a traitorous little crush. He's your best friend. The type of person you always knew would be there.
Right up until he wasn't.
It’s funny how much colder it seems to be now that he’s gone. Winter’s blowing in, like it was just waiting for him to vanish from your life before taking over. It leaves piles of snow that you dredge through to get to your favorite cafe, braving the wind chill just for a semblance of comfort.
You used to go here nearly daily with Tommy, making you dependent on the warm atmosphere that you haven’t been in since five days ago. Have you mentioned how much you hate fighting with Tommy? The disruption to routine, the fucking ache in your heart…
It’s a bit pathetic, honestly. But that’s simply what you are without him. One half of a soul.
The bell chimes, and you drag yourself over to your normal table and pull out your laptop. Even when your world stops, the actual world keeps spinning, meaning you have work to do.
“Hey sweetheart. No shadow?” Your head jerks up, instinctively smiling at Laura, the aged worker who always serves you.
“Not today.” You sigh. “He’s… busy.”
“Too busy for you?” Her eyebrows raise. “That boy will show up eventually for you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, trust me, hon. He’s got those eyes when he looks at you.”
Hell if you know what that means, but you smile at her anyway.
“Want your usual?” She asks.
“Just a water.” You shake your head, the idea of a hot chocolate without Tommy seeming just sad.
Laura nods then heads off as you turn your attention back to your laptop. In the bottom right corner a Discord notification pops up from Wilbur, but you ignore it without even reading the message. You can respond to him later, which you’ll probably do at night while in bed. Procrastinating sleep, per usual.
A mug is set in front of you—definitely not water—making you look up at Laura in confusion. Hot chocolate, complete with your usual whipped cream.
“I—“
“Someone else ordered it for you.” She answers before you can even ask, a sparkle in her eye. Before she steps away, she leans closer and whispers, “I told you that boy adores you.”
Your eyes scan the surrounding area, seeing Tommy almost instantly. Blond hair messed up, his favorite hoodie and jeans on. He makes his way to you, looking sheepish.
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out the second he’s close enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Laura step away. “I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have said half the fucking things I did—“
“At least sit down.” You interrupt, knowing damn well he’d stand there and apologize all day.
Almost instantly, he drops into the chair across from you. You quietly close your laptop, leaving the two of you staring at each other in awkward silence.
“You ordered me hot chocolate.” You say just to break the quiet.
He ducks his head. “You always get it.”
The acknowledgment that you didn’t want to get it without him hangs in the air.
“What’ve you been up to?” You ask politely. Small talk is strained and stupid; you’ve never had to do this with him before.
“Recording and shit. Made a mod video with Schlatt and Wil and Jack. You?”
You drink your hot chocolate while the two of you talk, the argument hanging heavy over your heads like a storm cloud. When you finish the drink, there’s some unspoken consensus that you’ll leave together, him stepping ahead to hold the door for you.
“I scrapped that vlog, by the way.” He’s saying, referencing the one you had filmed with him. “Wasn’t enough content to put in a video.”
“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning, knowing that it was your argument that had made it such a short filming session.
“Why the fuck are you sorry?” He asks, staring at you like you’re an alien. “I’m the one who made that argument a whole fucking thing.”
“You?” You echo. “That was definitely on me, I was so snappish!”
“Bullshit, I started it!”
“In what fucking world did you start it? That was me, Tom, I acted like a little bitch about that one—“
You’re silenced by something, warmth covering your lips before it’s gone as quick as it was there. It’s not until he’s four steps back that you realize what just happened.
He kissed you. He fucking kissed you.
“Fuck— I didn’t— I didn’t meant to do that!” He exclaims, eyes wide. “I mean— Wil told me to just go for it, but I told him he was fucking insane man, I didn’t— I keep fucking this up, don’t I?”
“…so that was an apology kiss?” You ask, confused.
“What? No! I meant I was sorry for kissing you without, Y’know, asking.” His cheeks flush, and it’s not until someone shoves past you that you realize you’ve both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
“It’s… it’s fine. Okay, I mean.” You say, almost positive your cheeks are the same shade as his.
Tommy nods. “So I didn’t totally fuck this up?”
“I think you fucked it up a long time ago, Tom. I’m doing charity work sticking around you.”
He laughs, elbowing you as you start walking. “I’m the one doing charity work! I’m a fucking millionaire, you should be paying to be in my presence!”
“Oh, yeah, you kissed me for charity too, huh?”
“Wha— well I— that—“
You laugh loudly, having to look away from him to catch your breath. This was your Tommy, this was what you missed.
“Oh, you asshole!” He groans. “Fine! It was fucking charity, how about that?”
Shrugging, you can’t help your grin. “Just don’t make it charity next time.”
His steps falter, but when you look over at him he’s beaming. “Deal.” He announces, but doesn’t make a move to kiss you again.
“…are you not going to—“
“I have to surprise you. That way it’s fun.”
Oh boy.
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intotheelliwoods · 1 year
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May have gone a little overboard with this ask hahahahaaaa... @wakerrife
If you are asking how to write ports from a story perspective:
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Ports/prosthetics are still under lots of development in real life, which leaves such a big fantasy element to them for starters! Theres no right or wrong way to entirely depict them in stories you know? So theres my first advice, write them in a way that ties in to the theme of your story!
Slapping some good old FMA comparisons here since I saw you were a fan!
In FMA, when attaching the actual arm to the port its depicted as a very painful process that totally just takes the wind out of you for a while. This is since the whole motivation of that story is to retain the flesh arm back, shoving in your face how painful the ordeal is drives that motivation home and so that writing style makes complete sense!
In 2AL meanwhile, the whole story is about acceptance, therefore I opted not to have the whole ordeal of attaching/detaching the arm be a painful process. I wanted to drive home the idea that its is completely alright and normal for Leo to have a robot arm, as an every day painless thing just like a regular arm, and so my opting for it indeed being painless helped drive that theme of acceptance home
Meanwhile if you are asking from a more medical perspective:
I am going to be flat out honest and say I am pulling half of this out of my ass hahhaaa, apologies I have no resources since I did not put in much research! Most of what I say just comes from background knowledge, but hey do give me some slack here, I am a biology student who is still learning!
Although most of my inspiration for care and all, I actually loosely based off infected ear piercings believe it or not! For example, did you know if an earring gets too badly infected and is not removed in time, the ear can start re-growing around the piercing and just sorta,,, consume it?? Its entirely possible for nearly any foreign implant to get rejected by a body and I find that concept so cool. So hey there is food for thought, if you dont properly take care of a prosthetic port skin can start growing over it! Or the body can reject it!
I do have some more thoughts regarding care and such that ive been thinking about as of late if you happen to be interested, who knows maybe something can inspire you!
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Make sure the skin directly touching the metal doesnt dry up! Since the skin there is used to being fully enclosed by a warm shoulder, not thinned out and pressed against metal! Its easy for the skin to start drying and cracking around there. Preventing it from doing that can be done easily by just using a q-tip or your finger and rubbing vaseline or lotion of some kind around the skin. Reason you dont want it to dry up and crack would be since the cracks can crawl further up the shoulder and tear perfectly fine skin, which would definitely get irritating after a long while if your whole shoulder ended up just being decked in scabs. Even worse of one of the splits in the skin got infected. No one wants an infected port just like no one wants an infected ear piercing.
Be sure to clean the area where the skin and metal actually meet! Same reason as above, you do not want an infected port! An infected port can potentially lead to a rejected port which is never a good thing! Cleaning it meanwhile usually looks like taking a toothpick soaked in hand sanitizer or rubbing alcohol, and scraping out dirt/germs from the slim space in between the skin and metal, this is so the skin there doesnt grow over whatever gunk may be there and cause infection.
Make sure the inside of the port itself stays relatively clean! Clean out grime and gunk! Make it so the arm can actually fit into the port! The arm cannot fit into the port if you have 2 inches of mud stuck inside the rod, or meddled in the ratchet system, or whatever fantasy cool system you have! If you try and fit an arm into a port with stuff all up inside it you could potentially break the arm! Or if it doesnt break then overall quality would definitely be lowered through the more funked up movements trying their best when covered in stuff! Anyways cleaning the port itself depends on what materials you have half the time, looks different for different people ig!
Oh and reasons no one wants an infected port:
The slim chance the body just starts rejecting the port and trying to force it out
The slim chance that if the port was not put in correctly/out far enough from the body, the body will start trying to regrow around the port
The fact that infections are extremely painful especially in such a large surface area in comparison to just an ear
If the infection pain was not enough, adding a massive metal arm that pulls on the skin would be even more painful
Would also want to add that if your body rejects the port, its a god awful experience. Rejection means that your body tries to push the port itself out of the body, a very painful experience, it usually does this by growing in such a way that puts force to sorta try and pop the port out. Issue is, the port is very much bolted down via ball joints onto the shoulder blade and collar bone, and so the flesh that grows under it to push it out ends up just gushing out the sides of the port as gross as it sounds. Its a really nasty experience. So without help via surgery to remove the port, have fun being in agony the rest of your life! If this happens and you do manage to remove the port, you would have to undergo waiting for the shoulder to heal up again before even daring to put in the port once again. Should also note that this can only be done so many times, since with each surgery to remove and install, more and more excess flesh gets cut of, until you may eventually reach a point where there is not even enough healthy flesh to sustain the port any longer.
Hope some of this was helpful!! Oops I had too much fun writing this up!
More asks under the cut!
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@archieagain AOSDJNOSDFJKF HII HELLO!!! IM ELLIWOODS!!! I DONT KNOW!!!! have a great day you made my week btw <3 <3
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@gemini-forest everyone.. everyone point and laugh at the typo everyone!!!!! giggles!!!!!!
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@snipersiniora 2 Left Arms my favorite fanfic ever!!!!!
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@skylabrea Annnddd bookmarked for later! :) Thank you so much!!!
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starlightt8 · 9 months
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COMPANY
⟡Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
⟡Characters: Chuuya Nakahara x Dazai Osamu.
⟡ Genre: Smut. Protective Dazai Osamu.
⟡About: Post-Corruption usage,Chuuya fight an enemy and ended up bad. Dazai saves him and bought him to the hospital. Smut and also bonding moment.
⟡Words: 2k
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
‧ ⋆ ‧ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ‧
Yokohama was safe.
That’s all Chuuya could think after using corruption against one of the strongest ability user,he has ever fought with. Several Port mafia men were sent to deal with the threat and aniquiliate it, but all of them ended up losing their lives.
Mori told Chuuya that he didn't have to worry about such matters, he had executive business to attend to. That was what subordinates were for after all. However, Chuuya could not stand idly by while his men lost their lives. He was not in the habit of ignoring his people when they needed his help. And he wasn’t going to start now.
He ended up fighting a huge beast that could have destroyed the entire city in one hit. And he won. Unfortunately, the threat was bigger than he thought and he had to use corruption. The problem was that Dazai was far away from him. And Chuuya was too self-sufficient to seek that bastard's help.
He knew that no one was going to save him,no one could,but Chuuya didn't stop, something more important than himself was at stake. Yokohama's and everyone's life was in danger,so he couldn't afford to worry about trifles. As long as everyone was alive and well,whatever happened after wasn't important.
So he gritted his teeth, recited the words to activate corruption, and annihilated the enemy.
After the euphoria of battle had passed, the chronic pain that comes with corruption began to affect him unbearably, and his mind was no longer under his control.
Then suddenly something happened. Soft, warm hands cupped his cheeks, and all the pain, the rage, was then gone. Chuuya's body couldn't take it anymore and fell, but the same person who put an end to his suffering , was the one who caught him. It was the person who always caught him at the end.
That person was Dazai.
Chuuya ended up waking up in a hospital. It was the first time he had been taken to the hospital after using corruption, since the port mafia doctors are always the ones who put him back together.
It wasn't important though, the person who did the job mattered little as long as they fixed him.
Chuuya got up and made himself comfortable, his body was sore but it was nothing he couldn’t bear. He looked down at his arms; one was injected with serum and his hands were bandaged. Chuuya thought that all these precautions were tedious. It’s not like it was the first time he ended up in this kind of state. With a sigh he removed the IV bag and ran his hands through his red curls.
Noises emanated from the door as Chuuya struggled to regain control and prepare to attack. Before he could, the person entered the room. It was Dazai.
Beautiful brown hair that was as unmanageable as its owner; and mysterious eyes as dark as dusk, looked like they carried both; secrets and the torment of carrying them. If eyes were the portal to the soul, Dazai’s soul was something unattainable and untouchable. It made him even more alluring.
Chuuya tried to keep himself from showing any reactions but he wasn’t able to stop the way his breath was caught the second his eyes laid on Dazai. He didn’t want to deal with Dazai mockery so he faked an angry expression and started rambling.
“What the hell am I doing here? Why did you take me to a hospital? You should have taken me to the extraction point,bastard.” He said.
Dazai gave him an unimpressed stare as he made his way into the room.
“Oh, hi chibi! we're doing a silent exchange of telepathic greetings now? I like it!“ Dazai said,with a painfully fake voice. To anyone hearing it would sound like a funny throwback,but Chuuya wasn’t having it,the undertone of his rage was loud and clear to him. After all, he knew Dazai better than anyone.
The ability user he fought was a telepathic one;he used his ability to inflict mortal pain to his opponent's minds,and destroy their body with his anormal strength. Chuuya was forced to see things in his head that he never wanted to face again. He was forced to do things like a damn puppet,deprived of his own anatomy. He hated being controlled. It made him feel sick,like he wasn’t a human being. So he activated corruption to make it stop. Losing control of his mind to one or another. At the end it was his faith. So he chose to lose himself to corruption.
If he was going to die,at least it would’ve been for Yokohama. It was worth it.
However, Dazai didn’t allow it. Like always he saved Chuuya. Not from the enemy,but more importantly; from himself.
And now he was angry and Chuuya couldn’t think of a way to defend himself,before he could speak again,Dazai was already crossing the room and reaching him within a couple of seconds.
“What were you thinking? Or,were you thinking at all?” He said.
“I was thinking about Yokohama. About everyone who lives here. And if you haven’t noticed,your precious “Detective agency” is in this “everyone” as well. I risked my life and I won. So what?”
“Dying to win and risking death to win are completely different things,Chuuya. Your stubbornness may be your strength,but it’s also your weakness. If you don’t find a way to understand this,you are going to die.”
Chuuya didn't say anything, but Dazai's words reached a dark and hidden place in his mind that he didn't know existed. They burrowed deep into his soul and many more years after that,as it often happens, Dazai's prediction would’ve come true.
“You could have died.” Dazai said,his voice hidden a rage that only him could manage to contain underneath,and not burn at the sight.
“ I could. I didn’t. “
“That’s because-“
“You came.”
Chuuya swallowed hard and shut his eyes,searching for enough strength to say the crucial words. It was difficult to admit that someone else had saved him,because if he needed to be saved it means that he was hurt,being hurt means that there’s a weakness that can be exploited.
Chuuya couldn’t afford to be weak or vulnerable,not even if he wanted to. He was the port mafia asset,the strength part of the invencible Double blacks. Everyone counted on him; His subordinates,who respected and admired him to the grave. His friends, Koyou and even Mori,expected a lot from him. He couldn’t afford to disappoint them,no matter what.
However, there are two humble and worthy phrases in one's life that must be said; otherwise, one will end up saying them in tears.
“Thank you.” He said. “And I'm sorry.”
Dazai's eyes widened in surprise,it was the first time in all the years they knew each other,that Chuuya had said those words to him. Dazai seemed to be wondering if this had something to do with the telepathic monster that he fought,but he didn’t say anything.
“Don’t mention it,partner.”
“Ex,partners.” Chuuya corrected,with a smirky smile.
Dazai ignored the lie and laid down on the bed. Since the hospital bed was really small,they were pressed against each other,to the point Chuuya could see the barely noticeable handful of freckles,that decorated the tip of dazai's nose. He didn’t have them when they were younger,he was too pale and sick to have them.
That was another sign of how much Dazai had changed by being in the ADA.
Chuuya would never say it aloud,and he would never admit it to himself,but he was glad that Dazai had found them,they were the family he always needed and deserved.
A soft sigh escaped Chuuya's mouth,shaky and low,mixing with the brown haired one. He watched the way Dazai’s eyelashes shake,as he traced his pale face. The nose,where the little freckles were laying down,like sleeping stars, looked like a beautiful constellation. Then he slowly lowered his finger,caressing the cupid bow,before his fingers could reach Dazai’s lips,a kiss was being bestowed upon him,it was delicate,like the gentle touch of a butterfly wing. It felt ethereal.
Then the intensity of the kiss increased,to the point it felt like a soul consuming flame. Chuuya skin was burning all over,not even the cold hospital air was enough to appease the heat.
"Dazai". Chuuya said, with a trembling voice. He felt his whole body screaming for more, thinking was difficult and speaking even more. He just wanted Dazai to touch him. God, why wasn't he touching him more?
A small smile appeared on Dazai's lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to Chuuya's sanity. And he was enjoying it, the cruel bastard.
"What a desperate,greedy little slug.” He said innocently, as if he wasn’t purposefully turning Chuuya into a mad man. “It seems like you really want something. Right, Chuuya?”
"Yeah." Chuuya somehow managed to stutter.” “And you want it too, so stop playing around and do it.”
After hearing him, Dazai smiled for a moment and then in a fast paced movement,he got on top of Chuuya,looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze. His expression was serious, he looked straight into Chuuya's eyes and spoke.
“I will do my best to restrain myself. However,you’re still in a vulnerable condition,therefore it won’t be entirely painless. The choice is yours,Chuuya.“
Chuuya's mind was too far gone to care about the possibility,so he shut his eyes and nodded.
He could feel the fond smile that emerged on Dazai’s lips,as he started taking off the hospital robe out of Chuuya.
Slowly he spread Chuuya's shorts legs apart, his hands were firm but his breath was shaky. Chuuya knew how much he was trying to control himself, and the fact that he was doing all of this to not hurt him, even though Chuuya was in no position to stop him in his actual conditions, made the moment even more intimate.
There was also something special about someone like Chuuya,who was stronger than most,being vulnerable in the hands of the person he trusted the most. It felt liberating.
At this thought,a primal instinct possessed Chuuya and he suddenly arched his back, opening his legs even wider,to the point it seemed vulgar. But no matter how far he spread them, Dazai's larger body didn't fit. It was pathetic how hard Chuuya got at that. However,no matter how hot it was,it was also exasperating. He wanted Dazai inside him. Fast. But his body wasn't cooperating.
"Why are you that fucking big? You damn waste of good bandage.''Chuuya complained,but it sounded more like a plea than a real protest.
Dazai let out a small laugh. While still holding Chuuya's waist,he lifted him up to accommodate himself. Then he lowered his body onto Chuuya's. Now they were perfectly aligned, as if their bodies had been made to fit together.
Dazai kissed Chuuya with a firm but soft grip,like he was scared Chuuya would disappear under him. The thought was laughable, considering how harshly tangled they were. Then they kissed until they couldn't even breathe. Slowly,Dazai separated them,but before Chuuya could catch some air, Dazai's mouth was already searching for more.
"I'm going in". He said, with a serious but calm tone,nonetheless he didn’t make any move. He was giving Chuuya an option. But Chuuya didn't need one, he already knew the answer to Dazai’s silent request since he appeared at the door minutes ago. He knew the answer before he even knew it was a question.
“Yes.” He whispered.
In his partner company,being vulnerable didn’t feel like a disappointment or a weakness,it felt like a simple option. A yes or no question. And even at that time,Chuuya knew that as long as the option was being held by Dazai,the answer would always be yes.
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likesunsetorange · 2 months
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13
Praying that its e2l related 🤣🤞
revy for you i opened my e2l doc and worked on the intro ive been struggling with LOL
so exes to lovers wip! i know this au is neglected here but here’s a little preview! this takes place a year before their breakup :)
a little long but 1.4k since i haven’t posted anything from this au!!!!!
February 2022 Portland, Oregon
The last few bits of remaining sun peeked out through the clouds, casting a warm glow into the living room. Short winter days had quickly transitioned into another long winter night, leaving everyone to their own devices.
Mikasa glanced around the room, eyeing her friends from where she sat on the couch, finding herself too tired to go and socialize with everyone else. After a day of hiking that Eren had forced them upon, everyone had been trying to wind down, attempting to preoccupy themselves, which created the mass of chaos before her.
Sasha and Connie trying (and failing every time) to start a fire in the fireplace; Jean and Ymir arguing over how to properly cut onions while they (Armin) tried to make dinner together, and she was sure there was something else that had been brought up that she couldn’t quite remember or bother to care about; Pieck and Hisu struggling to carry trays of hot chocolate to the living room, only causing Mikasa to worry that they would be charged an extra fee for whatever sort of mess that they made in the process; Hitch resided beside her on the couch, trying to figure out how to load the cartridge of film into her film camera, and ultimately failing; and Eren, she had realized, was nowhere to be found.
Her brow furrowed as she scanned the room, looking for any trace of him, knowing that his presence would be requested as soon as Hitch figured out how to reload her film camera—insisting that their trip be further documented. 
“Hey, Hitch, have you seen Eren?” Mikasa asked, turning to face her.
Hitch, who hadn’t bothered to look up from what she was doing, shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, I thought he left a while ago. He seemed all upset or something—I thought you two were fighting or something, to be honest.”
Mikasa’s face scrunched in annoyance, especially considering she hadn’t seen Eren since he went to take a shower over an hour ago. “We aren’t fighting, what are you—”
“Got it!” Hitch cheered, ignoring Mikasa’s comment. She turned towards where everyone else was, so they could better hear her. “Hey! Let’s take a picture, finally! I got this stupid thing working.” Mikasa eyed Hitch, her face giving away her irritation at her lack of social awareness, causing Hitch to cower in fear (though she would probably never admit it). “And someone go find Eren! Mikasa’s worried.”
Mikasa huffed as she stood up, filing herself to the larger couch while Hitch positioned the camera in front of it. She watched as everyone crowded around the couch, everyone finding a seat on or in front of the couch. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Eren, worried about what could have possibly upset him. 
The feeling of strong arms wrapping around her middle took her out of her thoughts. She turned to face the culprit, the familiar viridian eyes greeting her with a warm smile.
“Hey,” he greeted, a hint of something she couldn’t quite decipher lingering in his voice. “You miss me?”
Mikasa’s hand found his cheek, gently caressing it. “I did, actually,” she mused. “Everything okay? You were gone for a bit—Hitch said you looked upset when you ran off to wherever.”
Eren came around, fixing Mikasa into his lap, as he positioned his chin comfortably onto her shoulder. Hitch was still fidgeting with the camera, giving Eren no time to avoid her question. “Just stuff with my parents… You know my dad hasn’t been doing good—the company and all that. But I don’t wanna talk about it right now, we’re on a trip, and your birthday is tomorrow—that’s what matters right now.”
“Eren… You know that stuff is important—” Mikasa started, her words cut off by Hitch once again.
“Okay, everyone hurry up! We have like ten seconds before it takes the picture so don’t fuck it up!” She yelled as she ran towards the couch, taking a seat next to Armin and Sasha.
Mikasa released a sigh not wanting their conversation to be interrupted, but not having a choice in this instance. She fixed her face into a smile as she waited for the flash to go off, not wanting to irritate Hitch any further. 
They took picture after picture until Hitch was satisfied, resulting in sore cheeks for everyone, and earning complaints from everyone. Everyone gathered around the coffee table, passing around the printed-out photos.
Mikasa was finally ready to be done, wanting to go look at the pictures herself, when Hitch stopped her. “Hey, you two stay there. Let me take one of you two,” she said, motioning them to sit back down. “You’ll thank me when you have cute pictures to show your future kids one day.”
“Hitch, just take the picture,” Mikasa muttered, her voice teetering the edge of being snappy.
Mikasa wrapped her arm around Eren, nestling closer into his side, trying to relieve herself of her slight irritation, knowing nobody was at fault in this situation. She found herself frustrated that she was annoyed in the first place, knowing that there was nothing to be upset about, she should be enjoying herself, knowing she was surrounding by all the people she loved.
As if Eren could sense her uneasiness, she felt him press a kiss onto her cheek. “Hey, relax,” he whispered into her ear. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Mikasa felt her shoulders loosen up, Eren’s voice and presence the one thing to always bring her back down to earth.
“Okay, on three! Three… two… one!” Hitch counted down, the flash going off on one. She handed them the undeveloped picture before joining the others, rambling about how she deserved to be the godmother to their hypothetical future children for things like this.
“It is a nice picture, she has a good point,” Eren said as he inspected the picture. “I think it would be nice to have for stuff like that.”
A smile lit across Mikasa’s face, kids, and a future. Things she had always considered but always seemed so far off—but now, seemed closer than she liked to admit. “You wanna be the father to my kids then, huh?” She teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Who else would be the father to your kids?” Eren scoffed, his brows furrowing the way he always did when he tried to hide his emotions—whether it be annoyance or jealousy. 
“Nobody but you, Eren,” she said, chuckling before pressing a kiss to a forehead. “That would be nice, though, little versions of us, don’t you think?” 
“Mhmm, I think about it all the time, to be honest,” he admitted.
“You do?”
“Well, maybe not the kids and the specifics—although I would want us to have all girls if it was my choice,” he said, chuckling. “But just about us, and our future in general. I love you, I see you in my future always.” 
After so many years of being together, it was hard to remember a time when Eren wasn’t in her life. There had never been a time in Mikasa’s life where there had been no Mikasa and Eren in some capacity—whether that was friendship or dating—he was a permanent fixture in her life, and she knew he always would be.
“I love you too, Eren,” Mikasa replied, interlacing her hand with his. “Always have, always will.”
“Even when we were kids and I pushed you too hard off the swings and gave you your scar?” A dimple peeked out from his cheek, a grin flashing across his face.
“I think I was too busy crying to think about whether I loved you or not—but you made your parents buy us ice cream, so I’m sure seven-year-old Mikasa loved you just a bit then too.”
“Well I hope you’ll love me in the future and don’t somehow find a way to get tired of me.”
“How could I ever get tired of you, Eren?” She said, smiling, before pressing another kiss to his lips and standing up. 
Mikasa helped Eren to his feet before he enveloped her in another hug, tucking her into his chest. “I don’t know, but I hope you never do. I don’t know how I’d live a life without Mikasa, you really are my other half.”
She hummed in response, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Yea, I don’t know how I would either, Ren. Love you a bit too much to ever get rid of you.”
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