#-shots in the bathroom in secret cause i was having a panic attack and didn’t know what else to do but anyway. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hes-writer · 3 years

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Patreon Masterlist

These are exclusive fics that you can read on my Patreon!

* = complete, ^ = in-progress, + = will be posted on tumblr, (s) = smut (implied or mentioned) writing count: 78 pieces

**billing cycle currently paused** | new patrons will still be charged

This is a reupload of my masterlist with sneak peeks of each piece so you know what's up :D

Multi-Part Series | One Shots | Drabbles | Extras

* Unwavering (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) - 6.5k, the one where harry cheats (again)

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the back burner of his mind. "I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

^ + Roommate Series (3) (4) (5) (6) - 9.8k, the one where harry and y/n are roommates

He sighed, “I finished my coffee ages ago. I was just waiting for you to finish studying so we could leave together and go home,” Y/N dropped her fingers from his wrist, slouching the slightest bit as butterflies attacked her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to get home safe,” He nudged her forehead with the ball of his palm, his face contorting to annoyance.

^ + Notes on Camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) - 16.5k, the one where harry and y/n are camp counsellors

Y/N looked around to be met with puckered lips and clenched hands as the campers practically requested for her to kiss their favourite counsellor. Wide, hopeful stares were willing her to commit.

“Alright, alright,” She bent her upper body to reach his cheek, licking over her lips once before pressing it on his skin. It was only a quick peck and then she pulled back. He stayed unmoving.

Jacky and Emy poked their finger at him on opposite sides. His cheek dimpling with their small indents. “Maybe you should do it again?”

* Friends Don't (1) (2) (3)- 3k, the one where lines are crossed

“It’s Harry Styles fanfiction on Tumblr,” She suggested a conversation, shyly smiling in embarrassment. “I can see that,” He murmured, using his thumb to scroll through the rest of the story, “It’s . . . interesting. People write these about me?” His retort made the situation seem like an utter surprise.

* Digress, Progress, Regress Series - 5k, the one where harry falls out of love

Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

Tickle Fights (1) - 1.2k, the one where bff!y/n teases harry about his boner

“What’s going on here, Harry?” The light tone of her voice indicated that she was teasing him, paired with the subtle movements of her lower half. Harry whined in response, feeling the blood rush downwards to make him even stiffer. “Does this feel good? Got hard over me straddling you, huh?” It was almost degrading, the way Y/N formed her question yet Harry couldn’t help a whimper from lingering in the air. He nodded, hands sliding down to grip at her moving hips.

Real Mature (1) (2) - part two is patron exclusive! - 603 words, the one where bff!harry and y/!n fight

“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being bitter about you and Ruby,” She rested her forearms on his shoulders in a slant when he stood to his full height. “I know you’re happy with her,” Harry gave her a shy smile that confirmed his words. Ruby is someone special to Harry now and Y/N had to learn how to share his time, attention, and affection. “I reckon I’m just missing you a lot more now,” Y/N’s tone was sad and despondent, trailing her gaze to the floor where she almost chuckled at Harry’s fuzzy bunny slippers which she had gotten him.

^ Fine Line Series: Adore You - 1.1k the one where harry and y/n are friends with benefits

Still, with her back against the wall and Harry’s fingers still gripping her hips—she waited for his response. I told you I loved you. Say it back, Y/N thought. “I love her, Y/N,” He mumbled against her neck in a drunken stupor. So close.

Kinkmas Blurbs (1 - 7) - 4.6k, the one where it’s all smutty

Maybe it was the way that his jaw ticked harshly every time he threw his head back at a particularly good stroke. You wondered what he was imagining that had him bucking his hips to his fist before realizing that the movements would probably cause you to wake up. Still, his hooded lids didn’t peel open—not until a core shaking fondle of his heavy balls forced a choked whine out of his throat.

Harry’s neck snapped to your figure, catching the way you looked at him as if you were in distress that he wasn’t cumming anytime soon—not when you were there, willing and able to help.

“Fuck, love. ‘M sorry,” He mumbled, not stopping the flicks of his wrist. In fact, you swore that you could hear the squelching of his clear pre-cum squishing between his fingers.

The Secretary (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 11k, the one where harry is the CEO and y/n is the assistant (cheating fic)

Two months ago, Y/N unburied a not-so-hidden secret that Harry tried to bury. Two months ago, Y/N walked in on her boyfriend and his secretary fucking on his office table. Two months ago, Y/N experienced everything from pain and discomfort, to disappointment and being scornful. She threaded the line of confronting him or waiting for the day he came forward and admitted it himself. There was a desire for Y/N to see Harry sweat beneath her beady eyes, watching him scratch the back of his pants in a nervous manner. She wanted to hear him stutter as he spat an excuse, she yearned to see him pleading with his gorgeous green eyes for her to stay. Y/N craved for his throat to close up, whimpers choked from his trachea because he was losing his stability as she walked away from him.

(s) Tension (1) (2) - 5.3k, the one where harry and y/n hate each other

“S’that why you hate me so much?”

His fingertips tapped his thigh methodically, crumpling a faint thud against his jeans. With how close they were sitting, Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his clothing. A burn of desire and anticipation lit inside of her like a dose of gasoline another in a flaming hot fire.

Harry shook his head, “Don’t hate you."

Champagne Problems- 4.4k, the one where marriage is a sensitive topic, the 1 - coming soon!

The freshly popped bottle of champagne poured into the flute on the table beside her bubbled and simmered, the sizzling reaction of the golden liquid ignited a moment of realization within her. The reason why her body felt more weighted, why tears filled her glazed eyes, pricking her corneas and threatening to spill down her face. Y/N’s heart had cracked–she was certain that everybody around her could hear it.

One Shot

(s) Achy Back - 813 words, the one where harry draws y/n a bath

A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken shower hours prior.

A Letter to the Man I’ve Loved - 1.5k, the one where harry receives a letter from his ex

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

Renegade - 981 words, the one where harry and y/n do a tiktok dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker.

(s) Drop the Towel - 644 words, the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry!” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

All I Ask - 2.2k, the one where feelings aren’t mutual

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren’t. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

Little Prince - 583 words, the one where 7-year-old harry takes care of his best friend

“Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn’t mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?” Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

Stressed Out - 1.8k, the one where y/n has a huge term paper due

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Valentine’s Day - 1.5k, the one where harry runs into trouble and y/n is there to save him

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

Dream With Me - 1.3k, the one where y/n has trouble sleeping

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black.

Pet Name - 1.2k, the one where bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name again

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself–golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

Shave - 768 words, the one where harry helps y/n shave her coochie

She sniffles some more, “I’m trying to shave, H. It’s so itchy but I-I can’t reach down there,”

Y/N began to sob. The rattle of the razor clanking on the bathtub floor where she sat her bum on the edge. Her baby bump was causing her to teeter over the porcelain which urged Harry to swiftly plant his hands on her to keep her steady.

“I’m so huge! I’m the size of a house,” Y/N palmed the crest of her bump, rubbing it loosely as she admired the stretched skin yet slightly wishing that it would disappear and she was holding their baby in her arms instead.

(s) Don’t Worry, Darling - 1.5k, the one where y/n rides harry

He slipped down the headboard, resting his back flat on the mattress with Y/N sliding with him. She positioned her feet to rest near his knees, wrapping their limbs together so she could have some sort of sanity whilst Harry incepted on his shattering thrusts. Feet were planted on the mattress to give his lower half elevation to propel his hips against Y/N’s core. Harry’s fingers left white marks on her skin, gripping the plush flesh and essentially spreading Y/N open as he rapidly shoved his dick over and over inside of her with no signs of slowing down. He staggered for a few moments when her pulsing core emitted dazing throbs over his leaking cock but Y/N was quick to duplicate and resume the pace he had set with the movement of her hips.

To Be Loved - 2.3k, the one where y/n’s feelings are more than friendly

“I love you. Don’t you love me back?”

Harry’s eyes visibly widened, clearly taken aback by the question spewing from Y/N’s mouth. Her heat cheeks and a shy stance; knees knocking against his knobby ones while her dainty hands interlaced her fingers.

Revelation - 2.1k, the one where famous!y/n and harry are spotted together (pre-relationship)

Before there were Harry and Y/N--the power couple--there was Harry and Y/N.

Y/N, who was one of the most sought after female artists in the industry because of her angelic voice. The woman who had managed to catch the lingering stares of every household and the ears of many listeners with her truthful songs; narrative from the experiences she had gone through and shared through the art of songwriting.

Harry, who was quite the artist for the night. Harry’s limbs were being pulled metaphorically every which to ensure that the cameras captured him clapping respectfully in the audience. Others were asking him to stay for a bit more time backstage for content for an upcoming video. Right now, he was sat in his uncomfortable chair beside a handful of producers and well-known singers. A brief hug and whisper with Ariana Grande were enough for their fans to implode about a possible collaboration, granted that Harry had written a song for her album before. But Harry was certain that that feature wasn’t coming for a long while.

Apple Cheeks - 1.1k, the one where harry says something and y/n isn’t listening

Clearing his throat, he began, “I love you, Y/N. And I know that it might be too soon considering how short our relationship has been so far but I-I really do have strong feelings for you,”

Harry dropped his gaze as soon as he managed to peel off the first three words from his hoarse throat. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know that I really care for you and me. I definitely something for us in the future and I hope you feel the same,”

Dreadful seconds shivered up Harry’s spine. His stare was still fixed on her shuffling feet and the floor. It was painful to hear nothing but silence so Harry decided to courageously lift his head up.

Affliction - 1.5k, the one where Harry breaks down (TW: depressive thoughts)

It wasn’t even that Harry did not know how to say ‘no’ because he truly did. However, anyone would be worn-out by the amount of exhaustion carried on his back. That cold shudder of loneliness--even when he wasn’t alone-- because nobody shared the experience of defeat with him. The twitch of his ears straining to listen when nobody would do the same for him. A subtle jerk of the corners of his lips because he could not keep the smile plastered on his face like paint chipping off the drywalls. The flutter of tired lids waiting to be shut tightly as tears were wrung from his green eyes, lashes tickling his skin underneath the violent colour of his eye bags.

From the Dining Table - 748 words, the one where y/n’s new boyfriend looks a lot like harry

Y/N wondered if her former lover shared the same thoughts as she did. The girl that he woke next to—was she still there? Did they share the bed together—not just in the morning—but the nights as well? If so, did Harry love her like he did with Y/N? Or was he just pretending to be okay like she was?

Blanket for Two - 990 words, the one where y/n kicks harry out of bed

And now, Harry was in bed with the woman he loves. Her light snores echoing in the dim room and he was staring up at the ceiling, shivering in his bones. If she were awake, Y/N probably would have made a snide, joking comment about how he shouldn’t sleep naked, especially in the winter. Not like she didn’t do that either--she was practically naked with the thin camisole over her body. The difference was that Y/N had an extra layer of blanket keeping her warm, shielding her skin from the night air and Harry only had the friction of his palms rubbing against his arms. He was sure that he was a hint away from his teeth chattering. Harry had half the mind to dip his freezing feet beneath the blanket and jolt her awake with the change in temperature.

That’ll show her, he thought.

Around 1:32 - 3.2k, the one where y/n has a wet dream

“What?” Harry spat, tugging his shirt over his head, waiting for you to form a coherent excuse. “‘Think that jus’ because you woke up horny from a dream that y’can touch yourself? What a slut. Are you that desperate?”

Your cheeks flamed at his words of degradation, doubling your arousal and one that had you smushing your thighs together to relieve the ache. You rolled your eyes as he continued his rant instead of using the time to keep you satisfied. That was his job, wasn’t it? To make you cum and make you feel nothing but pleasure, yet here he was shaming you for touching yourself. Granted, you did it without his permission and done so while he was asleep beside you, but still.

“Wouldn’t have touched myself if you treated me well.”

+ Stories in My Eyes - 1.2k, the one where dad!Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night

And while he liked to think that he had gotten the hang of—quite literally— his kid dangling on his leg like some sort of koala, pulling on his hair every time he gave Beau a piggy back ride, and the random visits late at night where the small child would stand at the doorway with his teddy bear so quietly only to say, “Can I sleep with you and mumma?” He was not at all prepared for tonight’s’ events.

+ Feather Boa - 1.5k, the one where harry comes home after the Grammys

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop that!”

“Stop what?” Harry nudged the strap of his custom tote bag higher on his shoulder.

“You just won a Grammy, you goose!”

Harry’s gaze softened, endeared at how happy Y/N was for him. She was jumping on the tips of her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with admiration and awe.

(s) Roughed Up - 2.8k, the one where harry’s domestic and y/n’s mind wanders

You whimper in return, almost collapsing straight on his body when Harry uses your body to move you up and down his cock. His curls flop on the soft pillow beneath his head, sweat matting the tiny hairs to his face. The way he looks at you with such intensity and a certain kind of awe as if he couldn’t believe that this was really happening is rewarding. Hooded eyes observing how your body twitches in his grip, gasping at how strong he felt underneath you like you were merely a ragdoll to be played wit

Pudding Cups - 1k, the one after harry steals food from the kitchen (Notes on Camp Extras)

“So is it common practice for counsellors to steal food from the kitchen?”

Harry lifts his head up at inquiry, shifting his attention from gently taking out the contents of the reusable bag towards Y/N. She was laying on his mattress, flat on her back as she stared at the wooden ceiling. If she looked closely, Y/N was sure that his light bulb was flickering the tiniest bit and usually, she would’ve been freaking out over the fact that she was in the middle of the woods, hovering over a potential power cut. But the fear subsided once she reminded herself that Harry was around.

“Hopefully not,” He muses with a suggestive eyebrow.

Drabbles:

(s) Drabble #1: Fratboy!Harry - 469 words, the one where y/n meets fratboy!harry at a party

Y/N snapped her head towards the member. When she applied for the rush, she didn’t expect that she would have to sleep with someone in order to officially join the sorority. “What? Why him?

Sadie chuckled, sensing the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, Harry’s nice. Besides, everybody does it,” She swirled her drink around, mixing the liquids together. Her lashes draped over her cheeks, almost touching the apples. “Are you in?”

Drabble #2: Asshole!Harry - 848 words, the one where harry cheats

You were calm, silent, and patient to see where he would take the conversation. Guilt was not present when you stood face to face in a battle of tranquility that pierced through your heart. His eyes gleamed in concealed smugness while his tongue curled in endless apologies. You knew him too well that he didn’t even stand a chance to hide his true intentions. But to Harry, you were a naive little girl that failed to acknowledge the difference between his acting and the truth.

(s) Drabble #3: Tease - 1.4k, the one where harry teases y/n

Harry plunged two fingers in her hole carefully, biting his lip to suppress the sound he was bound to release from the feeling of her wet walls suffocating his digits. He delivered punctual thrust, making sure to graze her sensitive spot to heighten her arousal. “Harry,”

He stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out and creating distance between them. “We have dinner to get to,”

(s) Drabble #4: Dessert - 1.7k, the one where y/n makes dinner but harry wants dessert

His thoughts were always about her no matter how hard he tried not to. And the fact that she took the time out of her day to prepare him something that he will enjoy; well, Harry’s heart just about swelled up to three times the size in his thumping chest.

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

(s) Drabble #5: Mine - 579 words, the one where harry is obsessed with y/ns tits

But he couldn’t exactly do that when all Harry wanted to do was do her. The smooth skin was supported by a navy blue push-up bra; he could tell by the lace mesh that he could see peeking out. It gave Y/N every favour because Harry was trying so hard not to let saliva pool in his mouth and drip out in a line of drool, his eyes widening with each movement she made with her arms, jostling her boobs a little bit here and there.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Y/N waved her arms to catch his attention. A frown creased her brows as he blinked sluggishly before finding enough coherence to recognize that she was trying to talk to him.

(s) Drabble #6: Early Mornings - 1k, the one where harry thinks y/n is prettiest in the morning

“Get to see ya’ when you’re most beautiful,” Harry tickled his nose on hers, smiling at the way the feature scrunched up as she giggled. He groaned at the contractions her walls gave while her tummy flipped in gentle laughter. “Oi! What’s so funny?” He smushed her face with kisses, pausing his thrust halfway through which had her whining.

Drabble #7: Getaway - 952 words, the one where harry is always cold in the mornings

"Y/N, have you taken my purple bathrobe?"

“No,” Y/N tugged the lavender coloured fabric by the sleeves first. Then, by the lapels draping over her chest, drawing them tighter to block the gust of wind currently caressing Harry’s floppy curls.

Twisting his body, a knowing look overtook Harry’s face as Y/N exited the cabin door. The sheepish smile on his lover’s face granting all the information he needed for this morning’s chilly inception.

There she was, clad in the said purple bathrobe.

Drabble #8: A Little Chilly - 451 words, the one where harry sleeps on the couch

“‘S my bed. Dunno why Lydia can’t jus’ stay on the couch,”

“It’s Y/N!” She wailed, walking closer to the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Dear, we didn’t know that you were coming home,” Anne tried reasoning with him, not seeing the gravity of the situation as Harry was making it out to be.

Text Messages:

Text Messages #1 - ‘would you love me if I was snail?’

Text Messages #2 - ‘did you know we had a quiz today?’

Text messages #3 - ‘did you steal my hoodie?’

Notes/Behind the Scenes

Notes: Tarnish

Notes: Stressed Out

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #masterlist #hes-writer

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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years

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Wonderwall-part 2

Summary: Y/n find out something that changes the course of her relationship and life forever.

Pairing: tony stark x reader x bucky barnes

Warnings: angst and angst and angst, panic attack, swearing, some bitter sweet fluff,

note: I know its a weird change cause i went from she/her to you and stuff but i like writing you more than her so here we are pfft also i mention civil war but this story doesn't fit in the timeline it just fit for the scenario.

Wonderwall masterlist

You and tony sat on the ship with IVs being stuck into you. bucky sat next to you “hey... wanna talk about it? he ask softly. you shake your head. “not now not yet” you say with tears falling down your face. you had cheated on him. you cheated on the love of your life the person you'd been with for 3 years. Not only that but with someone who has tried to kill bucky on multiple occasions. Tony moved next to you. “Hey...” he said with a sigh. “Promise me we will never ever tell them about this” you say with a panic. he nods frantically. “that's exactly what i was going to say.” and with that you two spent the rest of the time in silence.

You sat in your room. It was 4 days after you got back. you felt weird and had been getting sick for the past few days. The others assumed it was due to your body still adjusting to being on land with consistent water and food. but you had other ideas as to why this could be happening.

Your hands shook as you paced the room. “fuck fuck fuck ok it'll be ok” you said to yourself. you walked into the bathroom and opened the pregnancy test box. panic was all you felt as you took it. you set a timer and walked back to your room. you continued to pace. what would you do if you were pregnant. what would you tell buck? what would you tell tony?! you two promised not to tell anyone. the timer went off. you put your head into your hands. “ok its probably negative i mean what are the chances” you say walking back to the bathroom. you heart was going at a pace that was scary. your whole body was shaking. you grab the test and flip it over.

positive.

you stared at the 2 lines. you felt tears fall down your face and your breathing become rapid. a panic attack that's what this was. you fell to the ground as your breathing became uneven. “no no no no no” you say getting louder. you curl up and feel your whole body shake. you try desperately to grab for every breath but its like inhaling nothing. you start to cough from lack of oxygen and tears. snot ran down your face. you grab onto your hair and scream into your legs. the door immediately opens and bucky rushes to your side.

“hey its ok im here” he says putting his hand on your shoulder. “count with me ok” he says. you barely hear him it's like being underwater but you nod with what strength you have. “ now 1″ he says. “1″ you reply dryly your throat is dry and your lungs feel empty.

you two count to 10 slowly. you gradually catch your breath. the shaking stops and you feel more exhausted than ever. he pulls you close. “wanna talk about it?” he ask kindly. you look down seeing the pregnancy test and bucky sees it too. he grabs it and turns it over. his breathing gets deeper and he stands up. he walks back and forth and nods. “tony?” he ask with an angered tone. you nod. his nodding and pacing gets faster.

he walks out the room. you stand up quickly and chase after him. “buck bucky don't” you say quickly seeing him walk towards the one door that would fuck up everything. he nods hard and fast. You feel the tears fall faster and faster. “bucky stop it!” you yell at him. Tony opens the door and immediately is met with a metal fist. “fuck!” tony says holding his nose. Bucky pushes him again which shoves tony down. bucky get on top and keeps hitting him. “bucky! stop!” you say going towards him you try to just pull him but that does nothing.ok next plan. you grab his shoulders “Stop!” you say using your powers.

you keep pulling him and he does stop. he falls back into your lap. “you promised me you'd never use your powers on me” he says looking up at you. “i'm sorry buck” you say tears falling still. his head falls back onto your stomach. tony looks up at you his face bloody and beat. the metal fist definitely did not help. he looks at you confused. “im pregnant” you say to him. you see his eyes widen. “wha-what” he says shaking his head.

“shes fucking pregnant with your damn child” bucky says trying to pull out of your arms. you panic and hold him with all your strength. “sleep” you say feeling him go limp in your arms. tony just blinks looking down at the floor. “your....” he says trailing off. his breathing gets deeper.

Doors open in the hall. natasha is the first to come out then steve. Bruce slowly emerges. Wanda and vision come out in a worry. Clint is the last to come out hes geared up ready for a fight. “what's going on?” nat asks. they see tony and bucky's bloody fist. “I thought we were past this?” steve ask in a panic. you look up at wanda and natasha.

Steve takes bucky away from your lap and takes him to the main room and lays him on the couch. You stand up with natasha and wanda's help. vision,clint, and bruce still look concerned but less worried. “anyone gonna tell us what happened?” clint ask.

Bruce hands tony a rag to put on his possibly broken nose. “uh let's go sit on the couch.” wanda says leading you to the main room. bruce helps tony to the couch. “I should...” you say nodding to bucky. They nod as you slowly go to him. you put your hands softly on his head. “wake” you say and immediately bucky shoots up angry and tears edging his eyes.

“buck buck hey calm” steve says grabbing bucky's shoulders. Buck stares at steve angrily. “sooo?” clint ask sitting on the couch. nat and wanda sat down too. you were in front of all of them. “tony and I spent a month and a half up there.” you start off. everyone sits up more. neither you or tony had spoken of your time up there sense yalls return.

“We saw no end and I was about to have a meet and greet with death himself. Tony was giving up his food and water to keep me going” you say looking down messing with your hands. “I don't understand why this led to bucky beating she shit out of tony.” Clint ask. “let her finish” steve said. “We got closer than ever and had agreed that there was no chance at us returning. We were desperate to stop the pain to just be with someone be cared for before the end. We slept together.” you state. bucky's breathing gets more rapid and his hands form fist. everyone starts to yell at tony natasha tried to silence it which only made her a target.

“Shut up!” you say yelling at them. They look at you surprised. “shut up before we end up with another battle and let me fucking finish what the hell i'm saying before attacking tony which by the way it takes two to tango so shut up please.” you say looking at the floor hands making fist. everyone turns to you and shuts up even bucky and tony.

“Now I am pregnant with tony child. Now before you all start yelling and attacking tony just try to understand the situation.” you say. “Understand the situation?!” bucky yells. steve tries to calm him. “no no just no ok. He mmm he saw her vulnerability and used it!” bucky says standing up and pointing at tony.

“Buck no that's not it he didn't do that. I saw a world without you with no one except me and tony on that stupid ship dying slowly and mercilessly.” you say feeling tears falling again. natasha stood up and walked to you. “I know your pissed as hell at tony and at y/n but right now” she points at tony “you are going to be a father” and she points at bucky “and if you stay, which i think you should, are going to be a step father so let's just try to deal with that right now.”

Natasha held you by her side. Bruce stood up “I’ll help it whatever way I can.” he said. “me too” clint said standing. “I will too” vision said standing. Wanda stood “You always got me.” she said with a small smile. steve looked at bucky then tony and then you. He sighed and stood up “you got me too” he said with a nod.

you swallow “thank you all of you” you say softly then look to tony and bucky. “You definitely have me i'm not going to bail on my child just because its a complicated situation.” tony said standing up. bucky let a soft growl out. “buck?” you ask hesitantly. He looks up at you and shakes his head. He walks off and soon yall hear a door slam.

You dropped your head. “Give him time” nat whispered to you. you nod. she nods to steve and steve nods and walks after bucky. natasha takes you to your room nodding to tony who nods back and walks to the kitchen. sittin on your bed you look down at your stomach. there's a person in there well soon they'll be. nat sat next to you “how're you feeling?” she ask. “I don't know...Im going to have a child and it's not the child of who i always pictured it as. I broke the love of my life's heart and broke tony and I’s promise.”

“bucky just needs time is all steve is talking to him and i'm sure tony understands that you couldn't keep it a secret you two made that promise when you didn't know you were pregnant and don't worry you have all of us here to help and protect you.” nat said. “I’m an avenger...I had a father who used me as a testing subject and gave me powers i couldn't control till i was 17 how am i supposed to be a parent? Their father is a billionaire who is ready to die at any shot and their possible step father was born in 1917 and was brainwashed to be a murderer.” you spew out.

“you'll be ok we are all broken and a mess but together we can raise this child. I promise. We will figure it out” she says rubbing your arm. The door opens and in comes tony with a glass of water. “figured you could use this” he says walking towards you. nat looks at you and you nod. she stands up and walks out.

Tony sits next to you. “i'm sorry” you say immediately scared of tony being angry. “no no don't apologize you had to say something its not like you could just avoid questions when your stomach grows.” he says with a chuckle. “y/n i want you to know i am going to be the best damn father i can be and if you and bucky stay together...because you and bucky will stay together i know he will have a huge role in that child's life and i'm so glad they get 3 parents who love them more than anything in this world. I will protect the with my life I will not die for them. I will live for them.”

“Tony...” is all you can get out through choked sobs. you hug him holding him close. “thank you” you say pulling away “what about pepper?” you ask concerned. “I’ll tell her just need to let this” he moves his hand to the room “settle before any more people get mad” he says. the door slowly opens and an exhausted, messy haired, red eyed, wrapped hand, bucky opens the door. upon seeing tony he sighs.

“can I speak to her alone?” he says with no emotion. tony nods and walks past bucky out of the room. tony closes the door behind him and walks towards the bed.

he sits next to you and sighs. “buck-” you starts but he cuts you off “don't....let me speak” he says. “I am pissed as hell at you dont get me wrong...but i understand...you didn't see a possibility as being back here all you saw was death. I will be the best step father i can and the best boyfriend i can be. I am far from forgiving you but I still love you and I don't want us to end and this child is amazing news even if they aren't mine. I will be as much of a father to this kid as I can be and I will raise them as my own. I'm here for the long run.” he says looking at you. you smile and hug him. “I love you too bucky...thank you” you say.

This journey was far from over but for now the world felt damn good. This kid would have 3 parents who love them more than anything or anyone in this world.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

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potionsclasss · 3 years

Text

Yes the title is so overused yes I used regardless ok plz just ignore it.

Summary: Draco sees you wearing his Slytherin jumper at breakfast and he can’t help but love every inch of it on you.

Pairing: Best Friend Slytherin Reader x Draco Malfoy

Warnings: Descriptions of physical appearance (mentions of words like slim, small, muscular, etc.)

Word Count: 1.2k

Sweater Weather

The golden spoon absentmindedly slipped out of his ring clad hand and clattered against the cold tile floor, the sound pulling him out of his thoughts. Sucked back into reality, Draco looked up a little dazed to notice Blaise staring at him, motioning vaguely with one finger to the spoon that had fallen to the floor.

“Whatchya lookin at?” Blaise inquired, referencing Draco’s obvious daydreaming, only half caring about the answer as he thumbed through his Charms homework.

Draco blushed a little, inadvertently, knowing he’d been caught. He had in fact been staring at you, unable to avert his gaze. While this was a normal habit for him, admiring his best friends reddish curls and electric blue eyes and freckle dusted nose, he actually had a good reason this time.

He had nearly choked on his orange juice when you had walked into his peripherals just now, his dark green Slytherin jumper hanging loosely and familiarly on your petite frame. You had sat down just a few seats away at the Slytherin table, giving him your usual friendly smile and a giggly wink. Though probably not recognizable to anyone else, he knew his own clothes, and he knew when you were wearing them.

For weeks now you’d been falling asleep in his room. You would often stay up late to help him finish his history of magic homework he had neglected during one of his increasingly common and VERY private bathroom panic attacks only you knew about. Sometimes you’d rub his back as he twitched in his sleep, knowing he was getting another nightmare. But usually you just drifted off together, enjoying the sensation of warmth and velvet darkness and that of not being completely alone.

Staring at you once again he admired the way your white teeth glistened in the morning light when you grinned at him, and allowed his silver eyes to glance down at your pink cherry gloss coated lips for only a second. He imagine what they would feel like. You in nothing but his sweater, pretty pink lips pressed against his, your soft breath on his milky white neck, vanilla bourbon perfume enveloping him in the most dizzying intoxicating way, whispering how much you-

“Draco!” Blaise said again, this time more sternly. A half smirk adorned his face as he already knew the answer - probably.

“What? Yes.. no I mean No.. I mean I’m not looking at anything!”

Draco shot Blaise a glare that told him not to press it anymore.

The three of you were close friends, banding together after being the first ones sorted into a Slytherin first year. But as you got older and grew closer, there were possible some unspoken feelings between you and Draco. Theo questioned the sleepover, and Blaise the list full drawn out looks between the two of you in the Great Hall. It didn’t take a genius to know that Draco wanted you as more than just a friend, and desperately so. He mustered all his self control and tore his eyes away from his friend, collecting his books and strutting off to begin his day in a hurry, but not before shooting one last knowing, icy, “don’t your dare open your mouth you git” glare at a smirking Blaise.

You slipped into Draco’s dorm in a huff, having run all the way from the astronomy tower in order to catch the last of the departing owls for a letter. Cold and flustered you took a moment to compose yourself and looked around, familiar surroundings and smells greeting you.

You took in your neatly folded set of silk pajamas that sat on the foot of Draco’s bed, in case of a sleepover. Your glass perfume bottle sat precariously close to the edge of his dresser, accompanied by his fancy cologne you loved immensely.

With a rustling from the bathroom your favorite blonde emerged, and stopped at the sight of you in his doorway. He smiled and eyed you from afar, drinking you in. His expression was clouded and you walked over to him, a little nervous.

In all honesty you had forgotten you were even wearing his sweater this morning, rushed out the door to breakfast practically in your pajamas as to not be caught in Draco’s dorm by another prefect (god forbid). The only reason you remembered you had it on was because of the way Draco stared at you when you wore his clothes in public, the gaze that had so fondly followed you this morning.

You met his hazy clouded eyes with your big blue ones and tried to read his face. You were always good at seeing his emotions flicker across his eyes, and you sense something off. You probably did steal too much of his stuff after all, maybe he wanted all those night shirts back.

“You’re not.. mad... are you?” You asked softly, twirling your hips so his jumper hanging off of you twirled a little. “You like it on me right?”

He placed a gentle finger under your chin, bringing your face up to finally be level with his.

“Yeah, I love it on you sweetheart.” Draco grinned lazily back at you, admiring your frame while his fingers playing with yours, adoring the sensation of you twirl some of his cold silver rings around his digits.

A soft, breathless smile upturned on your rose colored lips, gloss long gone by the trials and tribulations of the day, and you allowed the luxury of flickering your gaze from Draco’s muscular hands to his piercing eyes. You kept eye contact while you whispered something you’d always thought about.

“I love it when you call me that.”

With a smirk, Draco enclosed your little hand inside his, causing you to break eye contact and look down at his palm enveloping yours.

“I know you do.” Draco responded with a quiet smile, subtly using his grip to tug you just an inch closer, relishing in every second he had with you and every centimeter closer you got until he could almost taste you in every way he’d ever imagined.

You returned your gaze to his, his dark eyes glimmering under the soft golden light of the candles on his dresser, the crushed velvet darkness of the night making the air feel all that much heavier. Your chest swelled, and the warmth his hands were providing spread throughout your entire body, igniting a fire inside your veins, and loving the familiarity of his gentle hold. He looked so honest and genuine, his eyes telling you he wholeheartedly cared about you just as you did about him, and the thought brought a smile to your lips, mirroring the one that rested on him.

Your eyes locked with his for the final time l, falling into his touch, and lips brushing ever so gently against his skin as you murmured, “I love you a whole lot, you know.”

Leaning forward, and pressing a soft ghost of a kiss to your forehead, Draco looked up at the ceiling to gain some composure and try and push down the flurry of emotions that bombarded him when you closed your eyes at the loving action.

“I love you a whole lot too, sweetheart.” Draco

mumbled back voice thick in his whisper.

And for now, those little, secret, shared moments between the two of you was enough.

Tags: @reeophidian @hellounicorn @le-weasley-simp @mrsmalfoy47 @imbadwithunsernames @moonyssky @weasvlys @potterpasties @tsukibaby @drabblingdraco @dracosathenaeum @theweasley15 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @dreamy-clousds @slytherin-chaser @malfoymxnor @witchyxmalfoy @wingardiumhogwartsosa @avanesco @toxicmodernity @accioweaslcy @2fabul0us4 @fallenxalien444

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tibby · 3 years

Note

If you have the time can you please please please recap season 4 of riverdale. I was going to binge it on Netflix but things happen and then I saw your post about the graduation episode and HAD to watch that happen and now I’m recommitted to the cause and need to know what happened while I was gone

sure. okay so the season sadly starts with the death of fred andrews in a very sentimental and moving episode that’s kind of seperate from the rest of the show so it’s not really until episode two that things kick off. the riverteens are kind of thriving in a parentless world because milf alice was kidnapped by a cult, dilf hiram and milf hermione are in prison, milf penelope is in hiding after killing a bunch of people, milf mary is kind of just There, milf gladys went back to toledo after her drug empire failed, god knows what milf sierra and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad are off doing, and dilf fp is the sheriff but because it’s fp he’s kind of bad at it. so the riverteens are horrified when their new principal mr honey expects them to be at school on time and disapproves of them throwing school dances because students keep getting murdered at them. cheryl, who an episode prior never wanted anyone in riverdale to celebrate the 4th of july ever again because of her brother’s death, considers this an act of oppression and throws a party at her house. however, as she is keeping her brother’s mummified corpse in the basement, she gets angry when reggie tries to sneak down there. meanwhile gay kevin is trying to make amends with betty for the time he tried to have her lobotomised because of the cult led by chad michael murray. betty uses this to her advantage to find out where the cult is, teaming up with her half brother, charles (not to be confused with chic, who was only PRETENDING to be charles back in season two). archie gets munroe, his prison buddy, to attend riverdale high, and reggie is weirdly jealous about it. archie discovers that this is because reggie is being abused by his father, so they smash in his car and apparently this solves everything. jughead starts attending stonewall prep, where he meets bret weston wallis, donna sweett, joan berkeley, and jonathan. he also reunites with moose, who disappeared in mid s3 after cheryl outed him to the whole school including his homophobic dad, and then his homophobic dad dressed up as the gargoyle to try and stop moose and gay kevin hooking up in the sex bunker they stole from dilton doiley after he killed himself, but it turns out that his homophobic dad was just angry HE never got to fuck gay kevin’s straight cop dad back in the day. it was this whole thing. anyway, moose is like “i’m going by my real name, marmaduke now, so people don’t find out about my dad” but everyone does anyway and so moose mysteriously disappears again. betty finds out where the cult is (after disarming a bomb attached to her sister polly using a bobby pin) and goes to rescue her mother. milf alice reveals that chad michael murray is using the cult money to build a rocket, and his wife/fake daughter evelyn is going to drive a bus full of cultists off a cliff. the day is saved! veronica finds out that her father’s real surname is luna and decides to start going by that as an act of rebellion because he keeps leaving the prison that he owns to fuck with her after she had him arrested. archie decides to turn his gym into a community centre with munroe’s help. cheryl, who, for unknown reasons, obtained custody of polly’s twins, immediately fires the nanny that toni hired because he said there were probably rats in the walls and went into the basement. cheryl goes to make sure that the nanny didn’t interfere with her brother’s mummified corpse, and toni walks in on her stitching him up. videotapes start arriving at the homes of the riverdale residents of said homes being filmed for hours. onto halloween! toni tells cheryl they can’t have a dead body in the horse and makes her rebury jason, at which point cheryl claims she is being haunted by a doll named julian, who is supposedly possessed by the spirit of her other brother that she ate in utero, but the haunting will stop if they unbury jason. toni agrees, but the doll continues to appear in weird places, and cheryl is forced to confess that while she WAS gaslighting her before, she isn’t right now. betty bonds with charles while receiving prank phone calls from polly, who is now in a mental institution. archie and munroe try to throw a halloween party at their community centre for the troubled youths but it’s interrupted by a drug dealing gang trying to start shit in the parking lot, thus giving archie a new enemy. reggie destroys mr honey’s office for the joke but mr honey catches him and is like “you do this because your dad hits you.” jughead uncovers mysteries surrounding strange disappearances of prep students known as “the stonewall four,” and donna drugs him so she and bretjoanjonathan can lock him in a coffin overnight as a bit. meanwhile, veronica burns a man alive in her basement. archie becomes a teen vigilante for the millionth time in the series, jughead and the other stonewall stags go into the running to be the ghostwriter for the baxter brothers franchise, veronica gets her mother out of prison but then finds out that her half sister, hermosa the PI, got their father out of prison, and he is now mayor again. betty and gay kevin start an fbi training course in which betty realises the serial killer gene is a real thing and she does have it, and remembers when she killed her childhood cat. jughead finds out that his grandfather who drunk himself to death but also abandoned fp but is also just some guy ACTUALLY wrote the baxter brothers franchise and is like “i have to reveal this!” so he takes it to his english teacher mr chipping but then mr chipping jumps out of a window before anything can come of it, and jughead is horrified when the stonewall stags have no reaction. cheryl is still convinced she is being haunted by a doll and things are further complicated when her extended family shows up. her uncle discovers jason’s body in the basement, threatens to send cheryl away, and is killed by toni. speaking of death, archie is still on his vigilante shit and asks hiram for help, at which point the near dead body of the gang leader, dodger shows up wrapped in carpet outside of the community centre. betty visits chic in prison to find out more about charles, and when chic threatens to reveal where milf alice buried the man she killed back in season two, charles and fp go to dig it up again and move it somewhere else. to get her family away from her and also in the spirit of thanksgiving, cheryl makes them think that they ate her uncle. dodger’s family show up at the community centre thanksgiving for revenge and there’s almost a shoot out, but thankfully the deep fryer explodes and chaos is avoided! milf mary later suggests the deep fryer exploding was archie’s dead dad’s ghost. betty and jughead spend the weekend at stonewall prep, where they play a homoerotic game of never have i ever with bret and donna. donna says that she and mr chipping were having an affair. now it’s time for the gang to go to therapy: archie gets diagnosed with gay but is also just suffering from an insane guilt complex, betty has mommy issues, veronica has daddy issues, cheryl is being gaslit but did NOT eat her brother in utero, jughead is just some guy. jughead finds out where his abusive alcoholic grandfather has been hiding out, and meanwhile his dad gets shot. veronica decides to fight back against her father by starting a rival rum business. polly rips off a nurse’s face and betty finds out that everyone in her family has a trigger word instilled in them by the cult, so she imagines herself going back in time to STOP her child self killing her cat to learn how to control it. cheryl uncovers her gaslighter by literally gassing her house, and it’s revealed that milf penelope was living in the walls and mad that cheryl had jason’s body. cheryl reburies jason and imprisons her mother in the sex bunker. archie’s uncle shows up, just in time for football season! the riverteens are playing stonewall prep, and reggie reveals that the preppies fight dirty, just in time for them to tonya harding munroe’s knees as he is their star player. archie’s uncle gives munroe steroids so he can play anyway, and riverdale loses but munroe gets a scholarship. cheryl feuds with her new cheerleading coach and locks her in her office so she has a panic attack. hiram threatens to sue veronica for stealing his rum recipe, so she teams up with cheryl (maple syrup queen) to create a new type. jughead joins the stonewall prep secret society, the quill and skull, and reveals that he watched a homeless man die. also, the cheerleading team performs cherry bomb. betty starts feuding with bret and decides to stand off against him in a quiz show, and although she wins, she is accused of cheating and is forced to give it up. she also wanted to use this to try and get into yale because apparently “cooper” is an uncommon name and people associate it with her serial killer father. veronica and cheryl enlist milf penelope and her former brothel in a hotel to run their underground rum dealership after hiram kept fucking shit up at veronica’s speakeasy. jughead is forced to come up with new stories for his baxter brother books, and so he writes about betty’s serial killer father (uh oh!) archie tries to restart his father’s construction company but his uncle’s shenanigans make it hard and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad has HAD IT. fangs is back from cult recovery, but gay kevin has gotten into non sexual tickle porn. toni and fangs get in on this they use this to blackmail nick st clair after he returns and understandably upsets cheryl, his would be rape victim. archie is attacked in the bathrooms at school because his uncle can’t mind his own business, but this plot was fucking boring so i don’t remember most of it. jughead and bret decided to duel, because of course, and betty uses this as a chance to investigate the preppies further. she finds out that bret films sex tapes and blackmailed moose with one, and also has one of her and jughead. she also finds a video suggesting donna lied about her affair with mr chipping. veronica goes to new york to visit katy keene, played by lucy hale of fantasy island fame, who tells her that her mother is dying. veronica returns home just in time to hear that hiram has a mysterious disease and decides to make amends. jughead is accused of plagiarism, meanwhile veronica realises her father thrives off war, and continues their rum battle. archie is now drinking at school and veronica accuses mr honey of being a fascist for having a problem with it. BUT. MOST IMPORTANTLY. ALL SEASON WE HAVE BEEN TEASED WITH DEADHEAD. AND IT IS FINALLY HAPPENING. IDES OF MARCH PARTY AT STONEWALL PREP. AND BETTY BASHES JUGHEAD’S HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. betty tries to prove that the stonewall stags did it instead but donna is an insane lesbian and thrives off gaslighting and fucking with her. because jughead died, betty gets his spot at yale. the core four are accused of murder but cleared of everything. jughead has a funeral, and bret’s attempt of proving jughead isn’t in the casket are thwarted by the sweet pea, the sweetest pea in the room. hiram shows up just to fire fp as sheriff. betty kisses archie to help with her grief, and veronica ends things with them both. but donna is not convinced, and goes around stalking betty, saying she watched her sex tape and knows that betty couldn’t last so long without sex with jughead. and she is right! because lo and behold, jughead is alive and hiding in the sex bunker, despite donna’s best attempts to catch them out. donna knows they’re up to something and implies she killed jonathan when bret doubts her. betty and archie are like “yeah we only dated for the bit :/” but their texting implies it was...more. betty and jughead return to stonewall and expose the preppies, but they decide not to interview jonathan because he “has food poisoning.” or he’s dead. their other teacher kills himself, and fp reunites with his abusive father. betty discovers that donna’s grandmother was one of the people killed for the rights to the baxter brothers/tracy true franchise, and the entire scheme was a complicated revenge plot by donna to get back at their teacher for killing her grandmother. betty blackmails her with this information so donna can’t have the tracy true contract, and everything is “wrapped up” just in time for gay kevin to announce he’s doing a variety show. gay kevin’s intentions of performing hedwig are destroyed when mr honey is like “no, this is inappropriate for high schoolers,” and so the riverteens decide to band together and have everyone perform hedwig songs as an act of protest. meanwhile, betty and jughead fight because jughead didn’t do his homework because he was too busy watching the stalker vhs tapes, and veronica and archie fight because he lied about her father working out at his gym, given that hiram has tried to kill him multiple times and doesn’t really care about his health. betty and archie use this as an opportunity to kiss during origin of love. the variety show is cancelled, but the core four and gay kevin perform midnight radio on the roof, and jughead watches a stalker vhs tape of someone in a betty mask killing someone in a jughead mask. tickle porn shenanigans continue, and gay kevin is threatened over cheating his original tickle porn handler out of money. mr honey then forces them to shut the website down. cheryl leaves the rum business after her mother is threatened because of goons that were mad at hiram. hiram decides to deal with this by going after said goons. archie writes a song for betty, they explore their relationship further, but she picks jughead over him even when he says he’ll dump veronica for her. jughead discovers that ethel watched his and betty’s sex tape, and he and charles uncover blue velvet video, which houses sexy films and snuff films, and jughead is like “oh this is connected to the whole vhs stalker thing.” cheryl is sent a video of someone dressed up as her father killing someone dressed up as her brother. the riverteens turn their focus to the fact that all of them except archie and jughead have been banned from prom for various reasons, and betty suggests they kill mr honey as punishment. jughead writes an elaborate murder fantasy about them doing so, and also kills off reggie and drives cheryl insane for the bit i guess. the riverteens conclude that mr honey was behind the vhs stalker tapes and have him fired, and he tells them they’re all deranged before going to teach at stonewall prep. the school secretary tells them all the wonderful things mr honey did for the school and hands jughead a recommendation letter he wrote him for college. jughead realises they fucked up and rewrites his story so mr honey lives, but uh oh! he and betty uncover a vhs tape of their fictional murder of mr honey, much like the others.

and that’s what you missed on riverdale!

#this is missing. a lot. but so much happens in this show.#ask #Anonymous

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 3 years

Text

I’m slowly dying (with or without you) - Supercorp

Read on AO3

*trigger warning for panic attacks*

The first time Lena had a panic attack, she was sixteen years old and she had the application forms from MIT spread in front of her. She was admittedly too young to even have the forms, but she was a Luthor and Luthors have their ways more often than not. Since that was the first time it happened, all the cold sweat, chest pain and trouble breathing scared the living shit out of teenage her, who burst into Lex's room announcing she was having a heart attack. It only made sense, she tried to tell him while all her brother did was stare and stare some more. That's how their father died, after all, they had the genetic predisposition for it. Doesn't matter if Lena took the healthy lifestyle quite seriously, or that she took fencing classes four times a week, practiced tennis every Saturday and ate more vegetables than any other person on the planet. She was definitely having a heart attack.

It wasn't a heart attack, as the family doctor ruled out four hours later after Lex finally drove her to the ER. A panic attack, he explained, aggravated by the fact that Lena didn't know what it was, though it was a heart attack and, as a consequence, thought that she was dying. He gave her a prescription, told her she should search for a specialist and let them go back home. On the way back, Lex told her she shouldn't tell Mother.

"Mother doesn't believe in mental diseases. That's for the weak and she hates the weak."

Lena wanted to point out that Lillian already hated her anyway but her brother did enough for her for one day to get into a discussion with him. So, instead, Lena threw the prescription away and told Lillian she asked Lex to teach her how to drive and they spent the afternoon at a Walmart parking lot. Lillian wasn’t happy with that either, but she was never happy anyway.

Lena had many panic attacks after that first one. It was especially terrifying at first because Lena knew how bad it was, how it made her few like she was about to die, so she would freak out every time her heartbeat would peak for any reason or anytime she felt a tightness in her chest. She assumed that's why the therapy would come in handy, but she hadn't been brave enough to stand up against Lillian for twelve years and she wouldn’t start by demanding to be taken to a psychiatrist.

Instead, she found help in the only place that never failed to help her in times of need. Books.

Lena went to the library and she devoured every book that approached the subject. She took notes, she ate snacks, she made a pause to learn how to drive so Lillian wouldn’t be suspicious, but she learned all she could from those books. Over time, it got easier. She would be able to identify when it was about to happen, she learned breathing exercises, she acquired hobbies that helped calm down her heart rate instead of accelerating it, she started carrying a lavender extract air freshener in her bag, and, overall, she dealt with it by herself.

Lex, before he left home and assumed their father's position at the family's company, would sometimes help. He would engage her in chess matches, entertain her with anecdotes he found funny, explain something about his projects to her. It was almost like he knew what she was going through and he wanted to support her in his own way.

Ironic to think that the same boy who drove her to the hospital in the middle of a panic attack of his own, scared about losing his little sister, would one day become the cause of her panic attacks.

It first happened when she heard about the crimes Lex committed. The atrocities, all the deaths, the pain, the destruction. She knew her brother wasn’t a good person but she never imagined that he was a murderer – a genocidal one, in fact. So, when the first police officer knocked on her door to ask her questions after Lex's first attack, Lena did not react other than panic. Because that was her older brother, the man who taught her how to play chess and who made her life at the Luthor’s residence bearable, and then there was all this proof that the same man was a monster.

It happened again later that night, when she was alone and the words kept repeating in her mind. And it happened over and over again for the months that followed it, sometimes when she heard Lex’s name, sometimes when she saw a news report about it, twice during the trial she had to testify in, sometimes when she was alone and the silence became too loud.

That’s why she picked up her things and left for National City. A change of scenery, one of the articles said, can be the key to progress.

And things shifted and molded once she set foot in the new city. Between running around to build up a company from the ashes and dealing with the mess that was her personal life, Lena didn’t have enough time to think about anything else. She got better at the breathing exercises since she didn’t have enough time to distract herself with other things and, surprisingly, for the first time since she was sixteen, Lena felt like she could handle things just fine on her own.

Then she met Kara and things changed for real. Her first friend in the new city, her best friend in the entire world, made things easier for her. It was easier to breathe, it was easier to go through her day, it was easier to be. Lena never told Kara about her panic attacks – she told no one, actually. She always thought she might have to explain eventually if Kara walked inside her office one day to find her panting behind her desk but that never happened. Lena hadn’t had a panic attack since the day she met Kara and that was as concerning as it was alluring.

How could one person be both the solution and the cause of some of her biggest problems?

It made no sense. Lena would never understand the effect Kara had on her heart – her ability to make her heart beat faster on sight and calmer on demand. As though as she could trigger a panic attack with her smile but the calm feeling she brought with her made it impossible to happen. So, like many things in her life, Lena picked up the problem and, instead of dealing with it, she shoved it inside a box and then pushed it so deep inside her mind that it wasn’t even in the shadows.

(Like her abandonment issues, the frustrated dream of going to Disney only to have Lillian saying she couldn’t go, her fear of heights and the ocean, her trust issues and her undeniable feelings towards her best friend. All the above were securely locked inside her, never to see the light of the day.

For the long two years she had known Kara Danvers, Lena had forgotten how a panic attack could feel so... suffocating. Well, not entirely forgotten. More likely, lost in her memories, replaced by other bad feelings like facing death threats thanks to her own family, falling from buildings, piloting a helicopter, almost dying on a plane and it goes on. She almost had one when she shot Lex – when she found out the truth about the person she had trusted with the biggest parts of her soul, only to find out she had been lying this whole time. She certainly felt very close to having one when Kara confronted her at the Pulitzer. It almost happened when she finally told Kara she knew the truth for quite some time now right before trapping her at the Fortress of Solitude.

All those times the only thing that stopped it from happening was blue orbs staring right back at her. Even if filled with pain, confusion, or hurt, Kara still had the remarkable effect of sending calming waves all over her body. After shooting Lex; while in shock that Kara was admitting to a secret Lena thought she never would; while crying and begging for Lena’s forgiveness behind an impenetrable wall, even to her inhuman strength.

Kara wasn’t there that time though. There was only her, and Lex, and tons of experiments surrounding them, and a broken project on the floor, and a thousand lies.

“I gave you the world!” Lex’s breath was hot and wet from that close to her face. His eyes were so filled with rage, his skin trembling with the sheer force of it, that Lena couldn’t help but writhe under it. “Everything!” Even now, alone inside her apartment, sitting in the dark in complete silence, Lena could still feel the fury directed at her like a hot iron. “I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!” And then he lowered his voice, and he resembled his mother much more than their shared father in that second because Lillian Luthor never raised her voice but she always sent the message with the same intensity. “Because you needed to see your little project fail with your own eyes, to know the true depravity of humanity, to know that my way was the only way.”

It was fair to say that Lena couldn’t even remember what exactly she replied to her brother. All she knew was that she needed to get out, to get away from him, to escape. She said a few words, turned on her heels and made her escape without tripping on her own feet although her legs felt wobbly and, her muscles, unsteady. Once inside her house, Lena finally allowed herself to feel.

To feel.

What a weird concept, she thought while sliding down the wall of her bathroom, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs shaking her body like there was an earthquake shaking her apart. Lena wasn’t good at recognizing and asserting her feelings, and it was even harder when all she felt was sorrow.

Sorrow for having trusted once more, sorrow for having made another mistake, sorrow for having believed, even for a second, that her brother could be different, that she could be different. That a Luthor could help change the world for good. She felt utterly stupid. There wasn’t a part of her cells that didn’t feel the disappointment, the sadness, the grief.

There was so much she needed to do to fix the mess she helped create. And the mix of suffocating feelings with the anxiety of making things right before Lex could destroy humanity eventually led her to an unstoppable panic attack, right there on her bathroom floor, with the shower still running on top of her, the night thick outside and the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew it was coming from the moment she felt the sadly familiar tightness in her chest but there was nothing she could do to stop it this time.

The floor was cold beneath her, the water was too hot on top of her. Her sobs were shaking her to the core, her tears lost in the spray of the too hot water, her breath was short, shallow and too fast, her heart felt like it was trying to rip its way out of her chest, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

She needed to find a way to stop Lex – how could she have trusted him again? She would need help, she couldn’t do it alone. Lex had many friends and she had none – and whose fault was that, really? - Lex had control over every agency around the world now that he altered the timeline – and how did he even do that? - Lena would need to talk with Supergirl. Kara. Kara is Supergirl. Kara is Supergirl and she never told her that. Lex was the one who said it, not Kara, and he said it before Lena shot him.

But he wasn’t dead. Not anymore. He was right there, running the company that once belonged to her, making plans to control humanity like every person meant less than an ant and he was the only one capable of controling every single little thing. Did that analogy even make sense? She wouldn’t know. Her brain was barely functioning. Kara would have liked it either way.

Kara lied to her. For two years, the woman she called her best friend, invented lame excuses to leave her presence when she needed to be Supergirl and, for two years, Lena trusted her with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back. That’s exactly how she felt in that second as well. Blinded and bound, incapable of moving, breathing even.

Panic attacks can kill, Lena is factually aware of that because she strumbled on stories during her researches. It could cause real heart attacks, veins could burst, lungs could collapse, it could be a real mess albeit very rarely. The ‘very rarely’ part was hard to remember when her chest didn’t seem to expand enough to accommodate air, when her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding on her ears, when her arms felt as heavy as two concrete blocks, when her head hurt so bad she felt like it was about to explode.

“I gave you the world!”

He didn’t. Lies. Those were all lies.

“I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lies. They were lies.

“I supported you!”

No one had ever supported her before. How foolish of her to think she could do anything right. Lillian was right, she was a waste of space and time. Lex was right, she was a stupid girl who dreamed too much. Her father, who could barely glance at her most days, was most certainly right to avoid her as well. She was a defect, an error, a deficiency on a spinning wheel that she couldn’t control.

Everyone seemed to control her but Lena didn’t have control over anyone.

Was she in the shower or the bathtub? She felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. She was going to die. The walls were closing around her. When did her bathtub get such huge walls? And when did it became so deep? Her lungs were filling with water, she was about to regurgitate the quick snack she ate earlier in the day, and she was going to die.

What a terrible way of going down, she thought between gasps for air and dry sobs. Naked and fallen in your bathroom. The paramedics will have a great laugh, at least. If she’s lucky enough, they won’t snap a picture as a memoir or to sell out to the journals. Although, in the new timeline they found themselves in, did anyone even care about who she was when Lex was the hero?

Guess she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

So lost in her own mind, trapped and tortured by it, it took Lena some precious seconds to realize the hot water wasn't hitting her shoulders anymore. Ironically, it made the drowning sensation increase to a laughable level. If she could laugh, that is.

In the back of her mind, behind Lex's scream, Lillian's sneers, her father's passive face, her mother's hand disappearing underwater, she heard it. It was faint, shushed by the cacophony of sounds already screaming inside her head, and it honestly felt like someone was talking with her underwater.

"Lena."

Lena wondered if that's how it felt to be pulled into a hurricane. If that would have the same spiral, out of control, out of body experience. She heard it, her name being called out in the void that had become the space around her, but she couldn't identify the voice or the source. Sometimes it was Lex, screaming into her face. Sometimes it was Lillian, calmly calling her out in all of her life’s failures. Sometimes it was Supergirl, melting and mixing with the woman she once called her best friend. Sometimes it was herself, calling out for help. Either way, it did nothing to soothe her.

"Lena."

They were all right. She wasn't worth it. None of it was actually worth it. Not her project, not her research, not her hard work, not even humanity. Nothing.

"Lena, look at me."

Her eyes were open. She knew that because they were burning like fire - either because of the water or because of the tears, she wasn't sure. But she couldn't focus them. It was like there was nothing to look at. Nothing there. She was alone, as usual. No one wished to be around a Luthor. No one. And people seemed to like to prove that theory using her as the character in a study.

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

Hard to know where to start, to be fair. Was there anything right in her life? Her mother was dead, her father was dead, Lillian hated her, Lex was a manipulative little bitch, Kara was a liar, Sam was miles and miles away taking care of her own life, she had no one else, everything she worked so hard for was gone, not even her house was the same. And she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. How could she still be thinking if she couldn't breathe?

"Are you hurt?"

Everywhere hurt. Every centimeter, as though someone had picked up a piece of wood and beat the crap out of her, albeit she had no recollection of that ever happening. Did that happen? Why was her body hurting like that? Why was her head hurting? And what's up with her chest? Was someone pressing it? Did anyone put a weight on it? What a stupid jerk, if so. Lena doesn't do sports, she can't lift it!

"Lena."

It sounded closer to the surface. Was someone pulling her out of the water? And when did she even get in the ocean? Lena doesn't swim.

"Lena?"

Uncertain. She could relate. And that tone made a bell ring inside her head. Her name, said in that intonation, with such uncertainty, by that voice. She heard it before. Where did she hear it before? Why was she hearing it now?

"Let me help you get up."

That pulled her right out of the water. It was like someone hooked a hand on the back of her neck and unceremoniously pulled her up. The difference was shocking, the reaction was visceral and she was left feeling exactly like a fish out of water.

"Don't touch me!"

She hadn't been touched, Lena realized a second later. Not yet, at least, but a pair of hands were reaching out for her and they were just an inch away before her loud yell stopped them. It came from deep inside her chest, her diaphragm expanding and burning before releasing all the fury like an animal - a scared, cornered animal. The hands retreated immediately and Lena was left to her own. Her ears rang with her scream and she was transported once again to her laboratory a few hours prior.

"Don't touch me," she repeated and it was like someone poked a balloon with a needle. All the anger, all the vice was gone. Left was the defeat, something she was used to but hurt just the same. "Please, don't touch me."

Silence. Despite her heart ringing in her ears, there was silence. Loud. Suffocating. Maddening.

"Okay." She breathed out of water for the first time in what felt like ages. "Okay, I won't."

The air was thick with steam and Lena was reminded of the shower she was supposed to be having. The heavy breaths, the racing heart, the pounding head, it was all still there, and it didn't get any better when she remembered she was naked, sitting on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor, not alone anymore and not in the dark. Was she not alone for long? Had she moved at some point? Her legs were firmly pressed against her chest, her knees raising so high that she could rest her chin on them and, thankfully, it meant all her front was covered, and it also felt like her muscles had been stuck in that position for years, so maybe she hadn't moved. But she also didn't know when she got company. How did she get company? All her doors were locked. She lived on the fifth floor and, even so, the windows were closed.

"Can I..." How did she get inside? "Here, just let me..."

There was shuffling around, the sound of fabric scraping together and Lena was once again reminded of how sensitive her ears got while in the middle of her crisis. Suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts, she felt something falling over her shoulders and back. Whatever it was, it was heavy, soft and warm, and it helped to set her mind back in the present, her eyes focused, her head snapped up and her breath hitched.

And then she saw her. Well, rationally, Lena knew she was there all along, but her brain wasn't exactly functioning the right way so it was only fair it took her so much time to see Kara Danvers standing in front of her. Not so much standing, the woman was crouching, in fact, her arms reaching out around Lena and her hands holding the edges of something she assumed was the same thing that was draped over her shoulder.

Her former best friend's face was contorted in worry. The crinkle between her brows was prominent, the bright blue eyes were clouded in concern, her lips were tightly pursed in a thin line, and Lena was hooked by her look almost immediately. It was good to have something else to concentrate on, she tried to argue with herself, as though it would explain why her eyes kept moving around Kara’s face like she was a damn Michelangelo sculpture.

The hands didn’t touch her, successfully avoiding her skin after her explosion, but Lena still thought they were too close for comfort. The ends of whatever was dropped on top of her came to lay on her knees, in front of her arms, and Lena noticed that it skillfully covered all of her body. Curious, she forced her eyes to stop staring at blue ones and look down, albeit the pressure on her throat did no good to her current panicking state.

Red. Red like Supergirl’s cape. Lena panted quite heavily when she recognized that it was, in fact, Supergirl’s cape. Now being used as a blanket to cover her naked body, something she never thought would happen. The material felt harsh against her sensitive, reddened skin, brushing against her in an almost painful way. It was also heavier than it looked, definitely pushing her shoulders down and ruining her posture. But, oh, so warm. So warm.

“Lena, what happened? Can you tell me?”

Her eyes moved back at the blonde force of nature standing in front of her. The rest of the suit was missing, Lena realized, although not sure why her brain decided to jolt back to life to realize that specific detail. Kara was wearing jeans and a black deo sweatshirt that looked so soft that Lena wished she could bury her face in it and never let go. If Kara would still be wearing the sweater while she did that, well, that would just be a bonus.

“Talk to me, please. I’m worried.”

She certainly looked like it, Lena’s mushed thoughts wanted her to say. With a grimace, Kara indeed looked as worried as she could get. Her features reminded Lena of other times – of crashing helicopters, assassination attempts, falling from rooftops - all of which she hadn’t control over but she had Supergirl around to save her and make things easier. It was hard to associate the worried face of her best friend with the unbreakable pose of the superhero, even more so when they were blending together right now in front of her.

"Okay, Lena, you have to take deep breaths." No shit, she wanted to say. Do you think I enjoy breathing those shallow breaths that makes me gasp and leaves me desperate for more air? Not at all. It's not like her body was cooperative either.

"Can you do that?"

Lena didn't particularly feel like she would ever be able to breathe normally again. Rationally, she knew it would all go away in a few moments - leaving behind the dull ache in her chest and the bad feelings to deal with. However, stuck in her own mind, unable to breathe, fully panicking and totally lost, Lena was certain she was either going to live the rest of her life like that or that she was about to die - which, come to think about it, were actually one and the same.

Establishing that did nothing to help her calm down, unfortunately.

"Here, try with me."

She didn't want to. Lena truly didn't want to. She wanted, needed, Kara to move. She felt cornered, her back pressed against the wall and Kara in front of her. Her breath wasn't going to ease anytime soon while she was feeling like that. When Kara could so easily just... scream at her face, yell, grab, hurt. No, she needed space.

"Get out," her voice was hoarse, out of breath, and held none of the commands she intended it to have. Of course, the woman didn't move. "Get out."

To no avail. Her second request also fell on deaf ears. Well, selective ears, more likely. "I know you're mad at me, but you're clearly not okay so I'm not leaving you alone."

Lena didn't want to be alone. She just wanted to see the door. She wanted to see the exit and know there was a way out. Although, considering the inhuman force standing in front of her, was there really a way out? She couldn’t push Kara away, she wasn't strong enough. Supergirl was an unmovable object and Lena was no unstoppable force.

That was clearly the wrong route for her thoughts to take. Her already short breath became more erratic, her vision blurred and her chest tightened so painfully that she couldn’t help but think she was wrong and it was indeed a heart attack.

"Move," she choked. She was drowning again, faster than before. And who gave Kara the right to push her back in the water after taking her out?

For the second time.

Fortunately, Kara seemed to understand what she meant. At least, parts of it. Because she moved, taking a step to the side the best she could on her still crouching position. For a second, she just stopped there, eying Lena with bright blue eyes and furrowed brows, before she ducked her head.

"Please, tell me how I can help you."

Lena needed help. She could do it without it but she would be better sooner if she accepted the help. She didn't deserve - the soft voice, the worried face, the cape getting wet against her damp skin - but Kara was still there and Lena could be selfish for a few more minutes just so she could breathe again.

"The water."

The blonde was up to her feet in less than a second - literally, even. Lena would blame the adrenaline rush for her achievement, but she was able to shoot her hand out and grab Kara's hand before she could go farther away. Confused, the woman looked down. Broken, Lena looked up.

"Don't."

There was a pause, precious seconds being wasted, before Kara's eyes widened slightly and her other hand moved to turn the shower faucet again. The water hit Lena's back like thunder, sending electricity all over her nerves. It was hot, hotter than it was healthy to be, and it burned more painfully than she was comfortable with. But it pulled her out of the ocean again, it put the floor back under her feet, and Lena allowed the small comfort to wash over her.

Kara just stood there, her shoes getting wetter and the legs of her pants getting damp with the water splashing on the tiles, but she didn't move. Lena realized she was wearing comfortable sweatpants and a DEO hoodie that made her wonder what her former best friend was doing before showing up in her bathroom. How could she have her cape and not the rest of her suit? Kara just blinked down at her.

Then Lena let her hand drop back to her knee, releasing Kara from her hold - although, Kara could have freed herself just as easily. That seemed to bring the tall blonde back to life because she instantly moved out of the way again, leaving enough room so Lena could see the shower glass door and the bathroom’s wooden door. Her way out.

"You still need to take deep breaths."

"I-I-I-I ca-can't," Lena shook her head as she spoke, which didn't help with getting the words out.

There was a deep sigh all of sudden and she was almost offended to realize it had come from Kara. But then the other woman was moving again before her eyes could focus on her face and Lena was left to imagine if she was annoyed or not. Probably so. She probably realized Lena didn't deserve her help and that she got her sneakers wet for nothing.

Just as Lena was about to sob again, Kara sank by her side. Quite literally, she was standing one second, and then sliding by her side using the wall to support herself in the next one. Lena could only watch when the blonde sat by her side like the shower wasn't getting her clothes completely wet as well, like her loose hair wasn't clinging onto her skin and messing up her curly strands, like she wasn't sitting beside a naked and panicking woman.

Before Lena could even ask what the hell she was doing - if she could even find her voice - Kara reached her right hand out until she grasped Lena's left one. For a second, it felt like a complete stranger was touching her, like they had never touched before. It took a second, and then Kara's hand was like a rock against her trembling ones and Lena let herself be guided until her palm was resting against the woman's sternum. Kara held her hand there firmly as though she was afraid Lena would try to pull away, though she wasn't sure she could even move at that moment.

"Here, with me. In." Lena tried. "In, Lena. Deep breath in, come on, you can do it. In." Her lungs expanded and Kara nodded, copying her movement almost exaggeratedly. "Now out, slowly." She tried but it came out shaky and unsteady, so she gave up in the middle of it, letting out a huff of breath. "Again." Against Kara's chest, her hand followed the movements of her muscles and she tried to force her lungs to match the same pace.

Tired, Lena closed her eyes and let her head fall back until it hit the wall behind her. The water was now cascading down her face and neck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had managed to get on the safety boat and Kara was slowly pulling her back to shore.

"Does counting help?" She shook her head no. "Silence?" Another shake, more urgent this time. "Okay, I guess the blasting rock music should have been my tip-off."

Lena chuckled. It held no real humor - because she didn't find any amusement in that - but she still felt the need to let the other woman know the distraction was appreciated. Before a panic attack would start, silence, breathing exercises and calming music would do wonders to her. But after it was already happening, there wasn't much she could do to help herself.

"Maybe it could help?" Kara offered gently. "Not blasting rock on your stereo, but some music, I mean. I could go put it on."

"No," Lena shook her head again. Her breathing had started to even out, albeit it peaked again under the prospect of being alone again.

"Okay." Kara squeezed the hand she was holding. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Lena breathed in and out twenty more times - she counted them as her muscles started to lose some of the tension - before she released a deep sigh. "You already are. Just... Just stay here."

“I’m here,” the blonde stated without an ounce of doubt in her voice, or any indication that she might not be there any time soon, so Lena allowed herself to focus on her breaths.

Kara didn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t try to recover it, and it took her a few seconds to realize that was the first time in almost a year that they were touching each other. Lena wasn’t sure whose fault that was anymore – not when her brain was still foggy. All she knew, all too well, was the pain still lingering in her chest, poking her wounds, breaking her walls at the same time it put two bricks at a time to replace the one that went down. And Lena learned that it was the only thing worth carrying around because it was the only thing that made you wiser – the good feelings make you weaker, Lillian would say.

“This might cheer you up,” the woman beside her commented suddenly and Lena almost jumped out of her skin – for a second, she forgot someone was keeping her company in her very large bathroom. “I beat Alex’s ass today. We were sparring. I won. Don’t believe her if she tries to tell you otherwise.”

Lena was sure she was lying. It was quite obvious when Kara was lying. Her voice got just a note higher and she spoke in broken sentences, as though her mind couldn’t form a complete long-phrase and would just come up with things as she spoke. Lena knew that. She had noticed that little quirk of her friend a few months into their friendship. It still amazed her how long she allowed herself to be blinded by Kara’s secret just because she thought...

What did she think, exactly? That Kara wouldn’t lie to her? That Kara was different from every other person who had ever been a part of her life? Even when she knew when her friend was lying? Even when she knew Kara’s voice enough to know when she was hiding something?

Who was the real idiot there?

Feeling overly exposed to those intrusive thoughts that were doing nothing to help her, Lena hugged the red cape closer around her body and shivered. Although the water falling from the shower was hot, it wasn’t enough to keep the soaked cape warm enough to keep her body temperature high, neither was the cold floor against her naked skin helping in any way. She wasn’t about to move, though.

“I was doing my laundry when I heard your heartbeat spike.”

The admission sounded quieter and almost shy, but Lena didn’t have the strength to look over at the woman who used to know all of her secrets – and offered only lies in exchange – to see it herself. Instead, she kept breathing in a perfect match with Kara. In and out. In and out. Hold in, slowly out.

“I tried to call your phone, but you didn’t answer. I called your name, but I didn’t get a response. I thought you were dying, so I panicked and broke your balcony door. I will fix it, promise.”

Lena almost laughed at that. She tried to picture it, the puppy reporter holding a shovel or mixing cement. The prospect of having Supergirl doing it was even funnier. And, for God’s sake, Kara Danvers is Supergirl and she had to hear it from Lex after she shot him.

“I thought I was dying too,” Lena confessed in a weak whisper that was barely audible.

Kara’s thumb was doing circles on the back of her hand and on the side of her wrist. For how long she had no idea, but that seemed to be the last paddles taking her to shore. “What happened?”

“I gave you the world! Everything!”

She could still feel it. His breath against her face, his saliva hitting her skin, his voice ringing against her ears, resounding on her head, breaking her down. Lex himself had never laid a finger on her. Over the years he had paid numerous men to try and take her life – and how many of those attempts were stopped by Supergirl? – but her own brother never physically assaulted her. Words, on the other hand, were his biggest weapon and Lex was a master at operating his guns.

He learned that from Lillian, as did Lena, ironically. Although the three of them were very different from each other. While Lillian held venom in her words, she never raised her voice. Lena had seen her in many levels of anger throughout her life, but she never saw her scream or yell. Lex dealt with things like her total opposite. He wouldn’t scream at every corner, however, he would get frustrated very easily and his way to lash out was to yell and let it all out. Meanwhile, Lena used sarcasm and some very well-made phrases.

She had only screamed once out of anger and it had been into Supergirl’s face right before she locked her away like an animal. Lena didn’t think she would have been able to scream if she was confronting Kara instead. Sweet, innocent Kara, although now she knew the truth. Now, months later, she wasn’t even sure she could scream at Supergirl again.

“Lena, breath in and out with me.”

Her breathing had accelerated again. It made sense, Lena thought with a generous amount of bitterness. Thinking about Lex and Lillian did that to her. “I think I’m going to puke.” As soon as she said it, her stomach made a sickening churn and she heaved a dry gasp. There was no thinking. She was going to puke.

“Can I help you get to the toilet?”

The other alternative was puking all over Supergirl’s cape. And maybe the idea was a little appealing, she wasn’t going to lie, but she also didn’t wish to puke all over herself. So instead Lena nodded and, in a blink, Kara slid from her sitting position to the same crouching stance she had before. This time, she held Lena's hand still close to her chest before she searched for the other one underneath her own cape. Lena was in no condition to be self-aware of her nudity or the fact that her former best friend was brushing much more skin than she was comfortable with.

“Here, I will pull you up and carry you.”

Lena wanted to protest but the bile was already high on her throat, her legs were still shaking and her head was spinning. Nodding, she let herself be pulled up to a standing position. In that second, many things went through her head – she was going to puke right then and there, the cape was sliding off her shoulders and her front was definitely naked, and Kara was very, very impressively holding her up since Lena had no strength on her muscles. The blonde let go of one of her hands so she could use the other one to adjust the cape around the smaller quivering woman before she easily scooped her into her arms and stepped out of the shower.

They were both wet and water started dripping on the floor immediately. However, Lena was not going to worry about it when her body was rebelling against her. Kara kneeled on the floor, taking the brunette with her like she weighed less than a penny, and Lena was hovering over the toilet a second later. She hadn’t eaten anything after the quick snack earlier that day, Lena remembered too late, because all that rose in her throat was liquid mixed with bile that left a burning trail on the way. She panted a couple of times, emptying her already empty stomach, until all she could do was cough.

“Breathe,” Kara reminded her softly and she came to realize the woman was sitting behind her on the floor, holding her wet hair up and out of the way, drawing soothing circles on her back. “Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you.”

“N-No.”

“Or maybe the DEO, if you prefer,” the not-so-secret-anymore hero tried again. “Or Alex. I can call Alex or take you to her.”

“Kara,” Lena interrupted her, one of her hands letting go of the sides of the toilet to touch the woman’s thigh behind her – the only place she could reach in their position. Her mind felt much lighter now that her body had made the last rebel act against her. “I will be fine. It’s a panic attack. I’ve had them before, it’s fine.” That came out all shaky and broken as she fought to get enough breath to say the words.

Strong fingers closed around hers on a strong thigh. “I don’t know what to do, please tell me what I can do to help.”

Lena sighed, her entire body losing the rest of strength it had and falling on her knees on the floor. She let her upper body rest against the side of the toilet, trying to ignore the smell coming from it, as her fingers dug into a muscular thigh so hard that she was sure her knuckles were white. She closed her eyes and ran her other hand against her forehead to try to stop the drops of water and sweat from reaching her eyes.

She was allowed to be selfish for just a while longer.

“Alex kicked your ass, didn’t she?”

There was a startled silence behind her before a huff was heard, the warm breath hitting the side of her face. “She wishes. I totally won. Big time.”

The worst liar who ever existed – and Lena was the fool who fell for every single one of them. “Where’s the rest of your suit?”

“Washing.”

“I made the suit myself,” Lena reminded her. “It uses nanotechnology. You don’t have to wash it.”

“No need to brag, geez.”

Lena laughed. She just couldn’t help it. When was the last time she laughed? She couldn’t tell. It happened so long ago that she didn’t even remember that. One thing she was sure of: it was definitely because of Kara. And there she was again.

“Like I said, I was sparring with Alex. She insists I use my cape so I can learn how to escape if anyone grabs it.” Kara sighed. “She also said I should have kept the skirt and removed the cape.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I still have the skirt somewhere if she wants to use it and see how it feels like.”

The younger woman scoffed and opened her eyes again. Her heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore, the worst of it seemed to be over, but her chest still felt tight. “You were wearing the cape with a hoodie?”

Kara looked down at her own outfit like she hadn’t noticed it before. Her clothes were soaked and clinging into her body, but she just shrugged. “I like the hoodie, it’s comfy.”

“Well, it’s better than what I have right now,” Lena avoided looking down because the last thing she needed was to see how very much naked she was in the presence of the woman she was once in love with.

Although it still felt like she was, being completely and utterly honest. Lena could lie to people around her but she wasn’t going to lie to herself. If she didn’t have any type of romantic feelings towards Kara, she would never have been blind enough to miss the huge piece of information that was almost screamed into her face every day. And if she had got over said feelings, she wouldn’t have followed Kara out to offer her condolences over Jeremiah’s death, neither would she spend two hours in a bookstore trying to find the perfect book, neither would she still have Kara’s photo in her phone and a perfect copy on her table.

“Do you want me to grab you something to wear?” Kara asked softly, as though she was also noticing for the first time that the other woman was naked – though, she did go out of her way to cover her when she got there.

Lena tossed the idea around her head a couple of times before she nodded. “Just... don’t be long.” How pathetic. Lillian would have smirked at her, the same smirk that made her feel like she was worth less than gum on her shoe. Lex would have laughed in her face.

“Two seconds, I promise.”

It took her two seconds, indeed. The gush of wind from her departure was not even gone before Kara was back, holding a change of clothes in her hands. She put it by the sink before stepping back with a shy smile.

“I will let you change, but I will be just outside, okay?”

“Kara, I-“ Lena closed her eyes in shame. “I don’t think I can stand by myself without puking again.”

Or passing out. Or starting another attack. Or wishing to throw herself from the closest window. Either way, Kara seemed to understand because she approached her again, this time with both hands extended in front of her body. Lena took them without a second thought, as though trusting Kara came as second nature to her – something she thought she had forgotten almost a year ago. The blonde helped her to her feet and Lena had to let go of one of her hands to hold the cape in front of her chest to keep it wrapped around herself.

She must be a view, she thought then. Wet, eyes swollen because of the tears, panic still lingering at the corners of her eyes and wrapped around Supergirl’s cape. She must have looked even more ridiculous than she felt.

Once standing, Kara held her hand for a few more seconds. “Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Lena nodded. “I’m still in the middle of it. It will take a while to wear off.”

“What else can I do?” She had no answer for that and Kara clearly had no idea what to do, so she kept talking because that’s what she did. “What if I make you some tea? Would that help?”

“I guess.”

“Okay, good.” Kara nodded and took a step back, ready to get the new task in her hands done.

“Just...” the brunette sighed. “Just don’t close the door.”

Kara didn’t, and even if Lena was a little self-conscious about it, she was also thankful. Still shaking, she found herself a towel in the cabinet and let the hero’s cape fall from her body so she could get dry. Lena tried to do it as fast as she could. She could hear Kara moving around her kitchen and suddenly her bathroom felt too suffocating. She needed to get out.

Once completely dried, she picked the clothes Kara brought her. Yoga pants that she hadn’t worn since the last time she went to spinning classes – which, ironically enough, happened with Kara by her side – and a hoodie that Lena knew all too well. The gray sweater from National City University that belonged to Kara. The woman loaned her that when she found Lena drunkenly slurring her words out, drinking wine in her dark apartment, and turns out Lena never gave it back to her.

It’s not like she stole it. It’s just she wasn’t going to give it back to her friend without washing it first, but then she didn’t want to run any risks of ruining it, so she was going to do that separate from the other clothes. When she finally realized it, a month had gone by and they were having the third movie night where Lena was wearing the sweater and Kara had yet to say a thing. When she tried to give it back, Kara said she should make it her official movie night uniform.

Lena would never admit to wearing that sweater when she missed Kara during their fall-out, but she was also not going to deny it.

Either way, Kara had opened her closet – her ridiculously large closet – and between all the options, she chose her National City University hoodie for Lena to wear. That was, admittedly, the only hoodie Lena had, but she had other sweaters and long sleeve shirts Kara could have picked.

God, Lena was really going to grasp onto thin hopes, wasn’t she?

The bile was still burning in the back of her throat, so she moved to the sink next so she could brush her teeth, half wishing she could also have a mint or something. Even without it, she felt remarkably better already.

Kara was leaning against the counter with her right hip, dipping the tea bag inside her favorite mug - something ridiculously colorful with chemical elements all over that the woman herself gave Lena because it "reminded me of you" - and her face was serious, as though she was truly putting all her attention in not screwing up the task in her hands. She had pulled her hair in a ponytail to lock away the wet, messy curls, and her clothes seemed a bit drier, like she somehow had put it to fast dry while Lena changed. More likely she just used her breath or ran around for a few seconds. Her left hand was stuffed inside the pocket of her sweatpants, her jaw was set and Lena could see, even from the distance, that she was frowning as well.

And there was something in the way she just stood there, looking completely out of place and totally belonging there at the same time that just clicked something deep inside Lena.

Something she had buried away a long time ago, shoved inside a box and pushed it deep, deep, deep in her mind.

She could admit she had made a mistake when she started working with Lex, and she could admit she made a mistake when she locked Kara inside her own fortress, and she could admit she made a mistake when she closed her eyes to the truth screaming right into her face. She could admit she fell in love with Kara, she could admit she tried to fight it, she could admit it only broke her heart more than if she had talked with Kara about it. She could admit many things, but she would never admit how many times she dreamed about the scene in front of her. Dreamed about the domesticity that she always wished for, but never voiced.

“Are you feeling better?” Kara asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. The blonde had straightened her body against the counter, she picked up the mug between her long fingers and tried to smile, although it was constricted and uneasy.

Feeling better? Lena hadn’t felt better in almost a year. She felt angry, and lonely, and empty most of the time, and none of those feelings had washed away. They still hadn't. Those were some long months. It was a long time to spend alone, trying to find your way in a world you thought you knew while it seemed to be burning around you. It was a long time missing your friends, your found family, the days where everything was simpler. It was a long time battling to do good and hold everything together when you had no idea how to hold yourself together.

At least, she could breathe, unlike ten minutes ago when she was heaving desperate breaths on her bathroom floor.

So, she nodded. And Kara smiled a bit softer, and her next breath came a bit easier. At that moment, while her former best friend took a few steps closer to hand her the tea and offered her a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time, Lena realized she was remorseful. After everything that happened in the last hours, after another disappointment and another day missing and aching something that she lost, all she could feel was remorse.

She should apologize. She could try, at least. Ask for forgiveness after doing the things she did. Kara had a big heart – the biggest she ever saw – and maybe, just maybe, she would find it in herself the possibility to forgive her. Something that Lena hadn’t been able to do a year ago when she shot Lex and found out the truth.

But, then again, it was her own fault for closing her eyes to the truth for so long. It was obvious – painfully obvious – and she told herself over and over again that she was crazy for even considering it to be real. Perhaps she had been angrier at herself than at Kara. Perhaps she was just angry in general. After a year, it was hard to remember.

She picked up the mug from Kara’s hand, making sure they wouldn’t touch, before she took two steps back so fast that it was like she had been burned. Kara noticed it, of course she did, and her expression hardened again when she also took a few steps back. The blonde hero leaned back against the counter while Lena fought the urge to run and hide. Instead, she felt the coldness of a wall behind her and let her back rest there as she slowly brought the cup to her lips.

The tea was made the exact way she liked it, she noticed when the hot liquid touched her tongue. With just a splash of milk, no sugar, strong. Lena took a long sip as she avoided looking at Kara again. Her mind chose that moment to remind her that her former best friend had just witnessed a very real mental breakdown she had in her bathroom, that she had seen her crying naked on the floor, that she had begged not to be alone.

If she had trouble facing Kara with all the regrets from before, now she could barely stay in the same room as her.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Lena almost pointed out that she had barely eaten for almost a year. She used to have Kara dropping by at lunch or dinner with a bag of food to remind her to take a break and eat, but there was no one there to do it once Kara was gone.

Not gone, Lena reminded herself. Sent away.

Instead, she shook her head and took another sip of her tea. It was vanilla, which was a weird choice for that hour of the day. She usually likes drinking vanilla tea after lunch, black tea in the morning, and chamomille at night. Those were things Kara didn’t know, she thought. They hadn’t shared enough breakfasts for her to know it, and she was always gone when Lena indulged herself with a tea after lunch.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Again, she shook her head.

“I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the steam leaving the mug to let the smell wash over her. Lex had bad breath. Always had, if she was going to be honest. She remembers noticing it even when she was a kid and he was reading her books in bed, waiting for her to sleep when in reality she was too entranced in the story to actually do it. After she grew up, she started thinking if his bad breath was caused by his putrid soul. A manifestation of his rotten interior, as funny as it sounded. Either way, she could still feel his breath against her face and it made her stomach churn again.

“I should go.”

She hadn’t realized she had opened her eyes until she was blessed by the sight of a slightly annoyed Kara. The hero was unhappy, probably because of her lack of response, and she had pushed herself from the counter as though she was actually going to start walking away.

Away from Lena. Again.

Away.

“No,” she found herself saying before she could think about it.

No, don’t go.

No, don’t leave.

No, don’t walk away.

No, don’t leave me alone.

She could say any of the above and they would all be the truth. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She still had her pride, although faltered. Instead, Lena looked down to the dark floor of her kitchen and tried not to purse her lips in the same way Lillian hated.

"You can yell at me all you want later," she declared. “I just... I can’t be alone. It could... It could happen again.”

It wasn’t unusual, Lena thought to herself. Her panic attacks always came in pairs, which was a bit ironic considering Lena herself barely had any friends. And, even when she managed to avoid the second one, the feelings eating her inside still wouldn’t leave for days on end. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t be alone. She could, she had been alone for most of her panic attacks since she first started having them, but she didn’t want to. Not when Kara was there again. Not when she was sorry and Kara was there.

"I'm not going to yell at you.” That wasn’t what Lena was waiting to hear. She was expecting some lame excuse or no answer at all as Kara walked away. She wasn’t ready for what she heard.

"Please,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes because, of course, Kara would yell. Lex had yelled, her father had yelled, Lillian had yelled in her own quiet way. And it wasn’t like Kara didn’t deserve to let her frustrations with Lena out. “You can scream, say I'm worthless, call me names, say you hate me. Yell whatever you want later,” Lena shrugged and sighed. “Right now I just..."

Need you to stay and keep my mind busy.

She didn’t have the chance to say it, though. Kara interrupted her before she could, her voice firm and only slightly raised. "I don't hate you.” Their eyes locked from across the room. Kara was frowning, her hands had gripped the counter behind her, and her face was hard. When she spoke next, her words were calmer, although they held the same intention. “I might not agree with everything you did but I don't hate you.” Another pause, this time her voice came out broken and uncertain. “Do you hate me?"

Maybe. Lena wasn’t sure she ever hated Kara, albeit it was easy to think she did.

Kara had always brought most of her feelings from within her. The good was easy to see. Her loyalty to her only friend in a new city, her happiness, her love. Those were easy to feel and, even more, good to feel. After she accepted that Kara was the person that would make her feel more than anyone else in her life, Lena even bathed herself in those new things. But, it turned out, Kara also made her feel the max out of the bad as well. The rejection, the betrayal, the hurt.

And those were hard to feel. Those feelings she didn’t want to feel.

She did, though.

And perhaps it made her hate Kara for a second.

"Hate is the only thing I was taught was okay to feel," Lena admitted lowly, her breath blowing away the fog coming from the mug at the same time her eyes moved to the big glass door across the room. Outside, the night was heavy, the clouds were probably hiding the stars and the moon was only showing its right side. Inside, the tension was just as heavy, the hurt was hiding Lena’s true feelings and the tea was now lukewarm.

It felt like a lifetime ago when Kara first waltzed in her life, bringing the sun and all its shine with her. Certainly felt more than a year.

Inside, there was Kara, standing in front of her after a year of doing everything she could to keep her distance. Inside her apartment, there was Kara, strong and determined. Inside her heart, Kara was being pushed away by a monster called hurt, although she refused to leave. Not for the first time, Lena wondered if she would ever heal. Maybe she was too broken already. She felt hollow. She had felt like that for a long time now.

“Lena, do you hate me?”

The question was made with so much hesitation that Lena felt her heart sink, skip a beat, and start running at the same time. She was sorry, God, she was so damn sorry. But she was so hurt too. It was a lot to feel for someone that hadn’t felt much all her life. Or maybe she had felt too much all her life.

It was hard to say.

“No.” The admission came easier than it should have, Lena thought to herself. She did hate Kara, for only a second and only because hate was something she knew how to feel since she was a child. But it was only for a second. Enough to make her lose her breath and make some terrible decisions. Enough to make her scream and lock Kara away, and then lose herself. Enough to make her hate herself. “God. I tried, I tried so hard to hate you, what you did, your lies, your actions, your betrayal. But I can't. I can’t hate you.”

For whatever reason, she looked back to the other woman. Kara’s eyes were still hard, her brows were still furrowed, her lips were still pushed together in a thin line, but there was a small glint in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. She didn’t look angry exactly, but she didn’t look happy either. Lena suddenly remembered the face that had looked at her inside her bathroom – concerned and desperate to help – and she almost wished it back. She remembered the cape draped on her shoulders and the soft hand grasping at hers. She remembered lies next and it all came crashing down.

“Do you want to?” Kara asked eventually.

She didn’t look like she actually wanted the answer for that and Lena didn’t truly want to give her one. She did, however. Because her chest was still too tight and her thoughts were jumbled and her heart was aching for the past year and her sun hadn’t shone ever since.

“Yes.” Kara looked surprised, only for a second, before she started looking angry and Lena could almost hear her voice raising to yell at her next – and she deserved it, didn’t she? She decided to talk faster to avoid it regardless of that. “It would be easier than loving you.” The hero now looked shocked and Lena huffed a humorless laugh at that. “I’m sure it would hurt less.”

That was a lie. She couldn’t be sure it would hurt less. She hoped it would hurt less because, right now, it hurts like a bitch and it was hard to think it could be worse than that. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel. Or maybe it would. It tended to have a great laugh with her.

“Lena...”

Lena shrugged, took another sip of her lukewarm tea and sighed. When she looked up again, Kara had moved. She had taken a couple of steps closer before she stopped, took three steps back, then moved forward again. She came to a halt in the middle of Lena’s ridiculously big kitchen, with her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to say something but had no idea what to say, and Lena almost laughed.

Almost.

She didn’t, though. Because she felt more like crying than laughing for almost a year now.

“I will have your cape washed and return it tomorrow,” she said, took a deep breath, and reached out to put her mug down and crossed her arms. “I hope you don’t mind if I use...” coconut soap. That was what she was going to say and it would be more out of depracative humor than actual concern for Kara’s soap preferences, but the words died at the back of her throat when she noticed that the blonde was moving again.

Closer.

Really close.

Somehow, closer than they had been inside her bathroom because, in there, Kara had touched her hand and nothing else. In the kitchen, her former best friend suddenly raised her hand to touch Lena’s jaw.

“What are you doing?” she asked and she sounded completely out of breath as though she was in the middle of a new panic attack. Which wouldn’t be surprising. There wasn’t a mirror around, but Lena could picture the surprise on her face and the panic behind her eyes as she waited for Kara’s response.

“I just...” Blue eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes, and Kara looked so lost that Lena almost asked her if she needed to sit down and take a breath. “I just need to try something.”

Kara’s lips were softer than they looked, which came as a shock. Lena gasped the first time she felt them touching hers and her eyes widened as her arms fell to her side, not sure what was even going on. Kara tasted like a matcha green latte from Starbucks – and Lena hated matcha with all her being – and onion ring chips that she remembered were one of Kara’s favorite snacks. She smelled a bit like sweat and deodorant, and she kind of kissed Lena’s teeth at first before their lips touched.

Lena always imagined their first kiss – and, yes, she had thought about it like an obsessed person since she first met the blonde – would be the sweetest thing ever, with fireworks exploding in the background, racing hearts and shy giggles. Things she saw in the romantic comedies she watched on numerous movie nights because she knew Kara liked them. Things she had never experienced herself, but thought they would happen when she kissed the woman she had fallen in love with so deeply.

That wasn’t the case.

There were no fireworks and it wasn’t sweet either. Her heart was racing, though. One thing checked. The kiss was heavy with hurt and a year of distance. The giggles didn’t come. It was hard, and messy, and out of sync, and Lena felt almost angry at Kara for taking that fantasy away from her. For crushing another thing in her life.

Instead, she tried to take it back by biting the blonde’s bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, by raising one hand to grab the back of Kara’s neck to pull her close at the same time she pulled her hair harder than was necessary, by raising her other hand to grasp at the front of her hoodie to both tug her closer and push her away. Instead, she swallowed Kara’s gasp and shoved her tongue inside her mouth. Instead, she tried to hate Kara at the same time she loved her.

Instead, she only hated herself.

Kara pushed her back against the wall she was leaning against, kissing her back as hard as she was, but Lena didn’t allow her to take any control away from her. She felt a strong hand holding her hip as the other one cupped her face. Their push and pull lasted about a minute before they both realized there was no point in fighting it. No point in pushing.

Like wildfire in a dry forest, there was no way to stop it.

Kara’s hand was suddenly under her sweater – Kara’s borrowed sweater – touching her still damp skin and raising goosebumps everywhere she touched. Then her own hands were pulling Kara’s hoodie away, then her legs were wrapping around a slim waist, strong arms were picking her up, soft lips were kissing her neck and white teeth were biting her skin, and Lena felt the fire explode.

Inside, outside, everywhere.

She felt underwater again. She couldn’t hear anything other than the thunder her heart was creating inside her chest, and she wasn’t sure she was feeling anything other than the wandering hand beneath her clothes. Was there even anything else to feel? To hear?

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t open her eyes, even when her brain caught up with the distance Kara added between them. She had been barely able to feel Kara’s lips before, but she missed them once they were gone. She missed the warmth, the softness, even the taste. And she missed Kara’s hand once her former best friend removed it from the cold skin of her ribs.

“Lena? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Kara sounded scared, although Lena had no idea why. She had witnessed a panic attack just a few minutes prior. Surely, she should know Lena wouldn’t die by now.

“Lena?”

She should do something about it. Take her mind away off it before it became a real, full-on panic attack that would consume her again.

“Onion ring chips.”

“Uh?”

Lena almost smiled at the confusion she could hear in Kara’s voice. She tilted her head down to hide the grin that insisted to appear, grabbed the blonde’s hoodie even harder and made sure that Kara knew she wasn’t supposed to pull away any further by tightening her hold at the nape of her neck. No point in pushing.

“You taste like onion ring chips.”

“Oh,” it was just a release of her breath, either in relief or more confusion, but Lena could picture Kara’s face perfectly even with her eyes closed – a crinkle between her brows, big blue eyes, pink lips pushed together. “Yeah, I, uh, I was eating before I came.” Blinking her eyes open, Lena sighed, nodded distractedly and tried to focus on everything she could see. Blue eyes, the crinkle, the tiny scar, pink lips, a black hoodie that was way softer than it looked, a faint blush. “Your heart is quite fascinating,” Kara mumbled under her breath when she raised one hand to fiddle with her glasses.

Lena immediately missed her touch. She wouldn’t, however, voice that. She could have, a year ago, but not anymore. Now, she bit the inside of her cheek and pretended she didn’t care when Kara let her hand drop instead of putting it on her waist again.

“Did you figure it out?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You said you needed to try something,” Lena reminded her with just a hint of bitterness. “Did you figure it out?”

Kara took a step back as though she had burned her. Half of her wanted to follow, to pursue, to touch and be touched. The other half, the one that still held some sanity, crossed her arms and hardened her expression. For the first time that night, the hero looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

“I-” Kara stopped, gulped, shook her head, looked down, placed both hands on her waist, looked up, down again, and then shrugged like she had just been defeated. Like she had just walked away from the hardest battle of her life without a victory. “Yes,” she ended up saying after Lena thought she would just fly away without looking back. “Yes, I did.”

At that, Lena cracked a smile. It was filled with bitterness and every bad feeling swirling inside her chest, and she wasn’t brave enough to look at Kara to see her reaction to the brokenness that was clear on her face. She was broken and she didn’t have the strength to hide it that night.

“Okay.”

Kara took another step back and the uncertainty, the hesitation she was feeling was clear as day in her blue eyes. Lena had forgotten. She had forgotten they were supposed to be enemies now, working on different sides and making accusations instead of sharing lunch while watching crap TV.

What an irony, Lena thought. What an irony that they had to kiss as enemies when they had been friends for much longer. When friends had meant much more.

The blonde took a step closer then, then took another two back, then closer again. She looked like she was trying to figure out something to say, what she should do, where to go from there. She had no idea where to start, but neither had Lena.

Kara was saved from saying anything when Lena yawned, bringing a hand to cover her mouth and letting her eyes fall close for a second. When she opened them again, the hero’s face had softened and she had a tiny smile that made Lena’s heart beat faster for a completely different reason.

“You should go to sleep.”

Lena almost said she wouldn’t be able to sleep – she never could so soon after a panic attack. However, she took one look at Kara’s almost gentle smile and decided to let her have that way out of the clearly uncomfortable conversation. Because it has been a year, and they were different people, and Lena didn’t even know who she was anymore, let alone anyone else around her.

“Okay. Yes, I will.”

So, Lena went on with her nightly routine while trying to ignore the elephant – or the superhero – in the room. She put the used mug inside the dishwasher, walked back to her room to grab her empty glass of water to fill it up and walked back to the kitchen. Kara hadn’t moved much, she had just leaned against the island counter and was staring at the marble with her brows furrowed and so intensely that, for a second, Lena thought she would burn the whole thing down by just staring at it. When Lena walked past her holding the full glass, she didn’t move and Lena didn’t say anything.

She wanted to.

Wanted to ask if she was going to stay there all night, staring at her counter and looking like she had no idea where she was. Wanted to ask if Kara still remembers where the extra blankets were. Wanted to ask her to leave at the same time she wanted to ask her to stay. And, in between her own confusion, Lena chose not to say a thing.

She put her glass down at the nightstand on top of the coaster, put her phone on the charger and walked to her bathroom so she could brush her teeth. While she added the toothpaste to her boring red toothbrush, Lena yawned again. All the emotions from her day were catching up on her. The deception with her project, with herself and humanity. Lex’s explosion. The panic attack. Kara randomly showing up. Kara’s lips touching hers. It felt like she had been awake for more than a day – more like a month – and all she wanted to do was crawl on her bed and rest. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, it never did these days, but she would try at the very least.

Lena fell on top of her bed like a dead weight. She didn’t bother changing clothes, closing the door or checking to see if Kara had left. The clothes made her feel comfortable, the bedroom could feel too small with the door closed and she didn’t want to know she was alone. So, she just took a deep breath, stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of ways she could force her body to sleep so she wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Ironically, she fell asleep in less than a minute.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lena woke up with the sound of heavy rain. There wasn’t thunder or lightning, but the rain was falling heavily outside from what she could hear. She took a deep breath, groaning a bit when she stretched, and then turned around to reach her phone. Her room was dark, mostly because of the curtains stopping any outside light to get in, and the glow from her phone burned her eyes for the first few seconds. She blinked the discomfort away before trying to focus on what she had to do that day.

She was halfway into remembering everything that had happened the day before when she noticed her blanket wasn’t its usual black color. Lena frowned, deciding she could concentrate on something else for a minute, and her arms fell to her sides so her fingers could investigate the material. It wasn’t as fluffy or soft as her usual blanket with its thousand something threadcount that had made it ridiculously expensive. Lena reached for her phone again so she could light the area around her and almost choked on nothing when she realized what had been used to protect her from the chill air of the night.

It was red and way heavier than it looked, and it certainly didn’t belong to her house. Supergirl’s cape. Every memory came crashing down on top of her leaving her breathless and lost. She remembered leaving that cape on her bathroom floor, wet and cold, and it made no sense to her that it was used as her personal mantle for the night. The only way for the cape to be covering her now instead of wetting her floor would be for Kara to have walked in after she fell asleep and put it on top of her.

That thought, that image, made Lena feel sorry again. She was sorry for many things. She had made a mistake, she was sorry, and she needed to say that before it was too late. Before Lex could move on with his plan, before he could cause even more damage than he already had, before something worse happened. And she needed to say she could never, ever, choose to hate Kara over loving her.

She needed to say that.

Lena almost jumped from her bed as she rushed to get changed and ready to go. It was early, way too early, and it was raining outside, but she would cross town to reach Kara’s apartment and she would apologize, she would tell her she was sorry and she would ask what the hell was the whole ordeal with the kiss from last night.

She hadn’t dreamed about that, had she? Kara kissed her. Kara really kissed her. Their lips had touched in a very non-friendly way. That hadn’t been a dream, had it?

No, Lena decided while putting on her trench coat without thinking too much about what she was doing. It hadn’t been a dream. She had said she loved Kara – loves, still, if she was going with the whole ‘being honest’ thing – and Kara had kissed her. Which could mean nothing, but also could mean everything, and Lena wasn’t about to ignore it for any longer. She would have to apologize, so she could add her own question into it.

She just needed to get to Kara’s place and...

Lena stopped in her tracks, almost slipping on the floor with how sudden she came to a stop, and only avoided screaming thanks to the way she was raised by Lillian. Kara was idly sitting on a stool by the island counter in the middle of her kitchen, drinking something from Lena’s old MIT mug while she read the morning journal. Like it was something common. Like she hadn’t just scared Lena to death. Like she belonged there.

Kara didn’t look up – not that she needed, Lena reasoned, she probably knew Lena was awake since before she had noticed it herself. All the blonde did was take another sip from the mug, turn the page and pursed her lips when she read something she didn’t like. The silence that fell above them was different from the night before. It was less heavy, Lena felt just as breathless, but it only lasted about ten seconds before Kara finally spoke.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She hadn’t look up yet and Lena felt only slightly disappointed. She missed the blue eyes, the small scar and the crinkle. She missed it more than she missed a simpler life without murdering brothers returning from the dead. Instead of replying right away, Lena glanced to her own outfit, to her purple trench coat, the jeans and boots, to the cape she had folded on top of her left forearm, and then, for some reason, she blushed. She felt ridiculous, for some reason.

“I...” Lena cleared her throat, bit her lips for a quick moment and then sighed when she looked back up. Kara was just lowering the mug again, and Lena watched her throat move up and down as she swallowed. Honesty, she tried to remember. “I was going to... try to find you.”

Somehow, saying she was going to try to find Kara sounded better than saying she was going to leave her apartment at 6 am on a Saturday when the sky was falling outside to cross town to beg for forgiveness. It wasn’t a lie, at least. And, apparently, it made Kara lose some of her determination to not look at her. Lena noticed how blue eyes moved to the side just for a second before focusing on the journal again and she found herself blushing again.

“Well... You found me.”

Yes, she did. Sitting in Lena’s kitchen, reading her journal and drinking her... whatever that was. Still there. Still around. Still... existing in Lena’s life as though they hadn’t avoided each other for almost a year. Well, Lena did most of the avoiding, she was going to admit that. She was also going to admit she had missed waking up and feeling hopeful.

And hope was all she could feel when her mouth started to move on its own accord, without her approval and faster than her brain could keep up. Hope that Kara would understand, that she would be able to find it in herself to forgive her when Lena had taken almost a year to be able to show her the same treatment.

“I have made a terrible mistake.” She watched through misty eyes because of the tears as Kara slowly let go of the mug so she could close her hand into a tight fist, and, even though her heart clenched and her mind started to race, Lena couldn’t stop talking. “I was hurt. I was so hurt. And... I thought I could get rid of the hurt.”

Kara put the paper down next and she took a deep breath before finally turning her head to look at her. Lena almost stopped there, she almost gave up, turned around, walked back to her room and allowed darkness to consume her. She didn’t, though. Not when Kara was looking at her like... like she didn’t hate her. Not when Kara was still there. So, instead, Lena tried to remember how warm the sun Kara brought to her life felt, let her fingers fiddle with the cape she was holding tightly and let every word slip from her lips without trying to contain them anymore.

“I thought that I knew better, that I could make the world a better place. But I was wrong,” Lena swallowed a sob back and tried to hold back her tears, although it was already a lost battle. “That hurt took me to a dark, dark path, where I was blind to what I was really doing, to what I had become. You were right. This whole time I became a villain, and then...” A lot of things had almost happened. And then she lost everything. And then she was proved wrong. And then Lex showed his true colors again. And then, and then, and then. And then nothing. “I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m... I know what I said and I know what I did, but I am...” Sorry, so terribly sorry. “I am really hoping that you will believe me right now. Okay?”

“Lena.” The single word, her name, wasn’t said softly or gently, but it wasn’t a curse either.

Even so, Lena didn’t look up from where she was staring at the red cape and she didn’t try to stop talking either. “Lex is working with Leviathan, and they are going to...”

“Lena.”

“...use Obsidian to do something terrible...”

“Lena.”

“...using the system I made with my project. I didn’t know I was helping them, but I did. And now...”

“Lena.”

“...Now I want to help stop them, so...”

“For Rao’s sake.”

“...please, okay? I want to help stop Lex and Leviathan.”

“Are you done?”

It was the impatience she could hear in Kara’s voice that made her look up. She had expected Kara to be mad at her, but she wasn’t expecting the blonde to sound so... done. When she looked up, though, all tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs being barely contained, she saw that Kara had a tiny smirk on her lips. The blonde had turned her body to better look at her and she had now an arm draped at the back of the stool beside her while she rested her chin on her other hand.

For a second, a terrifying second, Lena thought it was over. Then, Kara sighed, pulled the stool back and gave it a soft pat. “Sit down, will you?”

Lena didn’t know if she should ask what was going on, scream or cry even more. Instead of doing any of those things, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to order her heart to stop beating so goddamn loud. When she opened her eyes again, Kara was filling a second mug with hot water and she could no longer hold a thousand myriad of emotions swirling inside.

She allowed herself to cry, then. Allowed a year of bottled-up emotions to escape and take over. Allowed the pain to be known. Allowed it all to be felt.

She was not expecting to feel Kara’s arms warmly embracing her into a tight hug. It didn’t stop her from resting her cheek on Kara’s shoulder or hugging her back just as hard. It also didn’t stop the tears, but that was okay. She knew she could trust Kara to have her back while she wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered on top of her head where she was resting her chin and Lena didn’t doubt for a second that she meant it.

“Do you hate me?” she asked lowly, not bothering to raise her voice.

“No,” Kara’s reply came fast and certain. “I don’t think that hating you would be easier than loving you either.”

And when Kara kissed the top of her head, Lena finally felt it. The fireworks she heard about in the romantic cliches Kara made her watch. She felt the fireworks and she felt the heat of the sun. She felt the tingles and the butterflies. She felt safe, maybe for the first time in her life.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered again and, this time, Lena knew she was talking more than Lex, and Leviathan and Obsidian, and every other mistake in between.

“We will figure it all out.”

#supercorp #supergirl #kara x lena #lena x kara #kara danvers #lena luthor #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #fic #ao3 #fanfic #one-shot #oneshot #romance #love #panic attack

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15

if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own

Chapter Fourteen

This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.

In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.

tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication

Word Count: 4K

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)

AARON

"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson

Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.

He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.

With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.

“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”

Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”

He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”

“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.

“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”

Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”

“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”

Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”

They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.

By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.

“He’s still asleep?”

He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.

“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”

He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.

“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.

He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”

“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”

“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”

Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”

Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.

“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.

Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.

Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.

Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.

“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.

After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.

“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”

Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.

Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.

Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.

Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.

He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”

To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.

“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.

Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”

“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”

Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.

“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”

Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”

At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.

“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.

Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”

“But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”

At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”

Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.

Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”

“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”

“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.

He smiles. “I mean it.”

“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Without a doubt.”

Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.

“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.

He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.

He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.

They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.

“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.

“What?”

“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”

She pouts. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”

He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.

They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.

Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.

When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.

“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”

Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.

Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”

Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.

“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”

Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.

“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”

“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”

Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.

“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”

“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”

Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.

��Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”

Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.

“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”

“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.

He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.

“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.

Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”

“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”

He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”

She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter Sixteen

Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @anxious-enby (add yourself to my taglist here!)

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Do you have any fanficions that are very science-y, if that makes any sense? Like, focused on scientific things, in the writing style or actual experiments incorporated into the story itself? I hope I'm making sense

Hi Nonny!

Ahhh yeah, though a lot of the fics I read have it deep in the fic, lol. BUT!!!! Guess what?? Your ask is the lucky one that spawns a new list I’ve been waiting forever to post the next part for a tonne of new fics, LOL!

As always, gang, if you have a fic more tuned to what Nonny is ACTUALLY looking for, please add them here, LOL. Pt. 1 will have a lot more of what you’re looking for Nonny, since there’s a lot of my FFNet recs on that one, but both lists have great recs!! <3

IT’S AN EXPERIMENT! Pt. 3

See also:

It’s An Experiment!

It’s An Experiment! (Pt. 2)

The Perfect Place by SilverSmile (K+, 1,955 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Romance, 5 and Ones, Fluff, Experiments, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock attempts to find the perfect place to sleep, but his little experiment proves to be far more difficult than expected.

A Study in Lace by KarlyAnne (E, 2,320 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Crafty Sherlock, Tiny Lace Panties / Lingerie, Domestics, Experiments, Oral, Masturbation) – “Why do you suppose he was doing that?” “Why do I suppose who was doing what?” “The room. The lace. The secrecy. He was playing with fire in everything he did, and didn’t care one bit. But he had a secret chamber, carefully concealed, solely for the purpose of making lace lingerie. Obviously for personal use. Why?" Part 1 of The Unintentional Crafts of Sherlock Holmes

Insomnia by TheSingingGirl (K+, 2,635 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Bed Sharing, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sleep is merely the next frontier in what has become the battle to keep Sherlock alive. It's because of this that John ends up in bed with a sociopath.

Undercurrents by entanglednow (E, 2,996 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Disturbing Things, Crime Scene Fetish, Pseudo-Necrophilia, PWP, Masturbation) – “There, that's it, perfect, shut your eyes and don't move - and don't speak."

John's Missing Wednesday by PipMer (K+, 2,999 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Pre-TSo3, Non-Con Drugged John, Friendship, Experiment) – "Now John I'd poison. ... Sloppy eater – dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue." – The Sign of Three. This is the story of that missing Wednesday.

Museums and Laboratories by RhododendronPonticum (T, 3,004 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, Obsessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Separation Anxiety, Doctor John, Co-Dependent Sherlock) – If Sherlock's kitchen was his laboratory, then his bedroom was his museum.

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w., 2 Ch. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Experiment by Gwen's Blue Box (K+, 4,222 w., 3 Ch. || Non-Con Drugging, Hurt Comfort, Friendship) – Of course John has always known about his flatmate’s irregular sleeping habits, especially when they’re on a case. This time, however, the case is taking longer and longer, and soon John starts to worry. But there’s not much he can do, is there? Because drugging Sherlock isn’t an option. Not yet, maybe, but will it be soon? {{CW: John drugs Sherlock without his consent}}

Survival Strategies for the Domesticated British Butthole by Atiki (E, 6,183 w., 1 Ch. || Crack, Rimming, Anal Sex, Iced Lolly, Hair Removal, Depilation) – In which there’s a rimming disaster, Sherlock depilates his butt, everything goes very, very wrong and groceries are mistreated. This fic contains hair removal creme in a butthole, ice lollies in a butthole and John Watson's penis in a butthole. You have been warned.

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Speak My Language by Itsallfine (T, 7,479 w., 4 Ch. || Thanksgiving, Love Languages, Love Confessions, First Kiss, John Experiments in Sherlock) – When Mrs. Hudson introduces John and Sherlock to the concept of the five love languages, Sherlock descends into a dark mood and John’s curiosity gets the better of him. What is Sherlock’s love language, and why does the whole concept set him so on edge? Part 1 of A Holiday Triptych

Made for You by Raxicoricofallapatorious (K, 8,440 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sci-Fi, Androids) – When John was shot in the shoulder he was decommissioned and his memory and personality was wiped. Sherlock was given the blank droid and he quickly learns that this droid is more than it seems. John just so happened to come back and no one can fathom how or why. Johnlock if you squint.

Ravish Me by amalnahurriyeh (E, 10,025 w., 1 Ch. || UST / RST, Makeup / Lipstick, Sympathetic Sally, Experiments, Pining John, First Kiss, Face Fucking / BJ’s, Cuddling) – Sherlock is experimenting with patterns of wear on lipstick in daily encounters. John is going to go insane.

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock's study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn't entirely mind.

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #it's an experiment #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

#su #su future #steven universe #greg universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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babyybitchhhwrites · 4 years

Text

Illumi x Reader 18+

Warnings: Yandere (?), noncon, oral sex

Tapping your foot in time with the reverberating beat, you scanned the crowded bar again. Still no sign of the man who’d offered to buy you a drink over twenty minutes ago. It was incredibly disappointing, and not just because he’d been a real cutie with a strong jawline. That was the second potential suitor that had pulled a vanishing act on you tonight.

You frowned, wondering what the problem was.

Halfway through the motion of lifting your hand to your face for an inconspicuous breath test, you froze. Someone was watching you.

It wasn’t either of the men that had approached you tonight. You’d never seen this one before and he was doing very little to hide the fact he was staring. A shudder snaked its way up your spine as you quickly looked away, breaking eye contact with him. Something was wrong. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what but the lead weight settling in the pit of your gut was reason enough for you to stand up and move to the opposite side of the room. Had he been observing you this entire time?

You didn’t want to think about that. Couldn’t. You’d come out to have a good night, not spook yourself with your overactive imagination. Putting some space between you and that disconcerting, blank faced stare would do you a world of good. You were certain of it.

Finding a vacant corner along the far wall, you tucked your back into the tight space and looked out over the sea of nameless faces. Still no sign of the two who had struck up conversation with you earlier. No sign of that voyeur either. You forced your shoulders to relax and took a deep breath. It wasn’t so strange to have someone checking you out like that in a bar. You’d definitely overreacted, you decided, feeling silly now. There wasn’t any reason to let it negatively impact your evening.

Shrugging off the discontent, you went about your business. It didn’t take long at all for someone else to walk up to you while you swayed in time with the music. You smiled in greeting. He smiled back and told you his name was Myer. A pair of perfect dimples winked at you, making your heart flutter. He asked if you were alone and when you said ‘no’, he offered to get you something to drink. You almost declined the offer. Letting him out of your sight didn’t seem like a good idea. Would he just disappear too?

With a quick look at the bar, you concluded that it couldn’t hurt. You had an almost straight shot view of the long polished counter from where you were standing so it wouldn’t be difficult to keep an eye on him. No harm, no foul, right?

Making up your mind, you smiled again. “Rum and coke, please.”

“Sure thing. Be right back.”

Myer turned and you watched him go, an anxious tickle teasing the back of your mind. He weaved his way up to the bartender and, after waiting for his turn, he placed the order. You could see him pulling out a healthy stack of bills from a pocket and the fact he stopped long enough to slip a few into the tip jar endeared you to him all the more, feeling your uncertainty start to subside. Everything was going well. He didn’t look like he was going to run off on you like the other two and your confidence rapidly cobbled itself back together. He might be the one.

You started to turn away, not wanting him to think you’d been watching him like a hawk the entire time, when a flash of shiny obsidian caught your attention. Icy chill assaulted your veins when you realized it was the man from before. The one who’d been staring at you. He’d shuffled right up next to Myer and leaned in close to say something in his ear, a shimmering curtain of jet black hair shifting against his back with the motion. It looked like they were sharing a secret between friends. Innocuous by all accounts. You would have assumed it nothing more than an innocent exchange if you hadn’t noticed the way Myer’s back stiffened.

The instantaneous horror that gripped you was palpable. What was he saying to him? Why wouldn’t Myer so much as look at the stranger as he turned and shuffled off with his tail tucked between his legs, leaving both drinks at the bar? You couldn’t make sense of it. The implication of what you’d just witnessed was startling and incomprehensible in equal measure. Was this why the others had never come back?

With your heart lodged in your throat, you pushed off the wall and shoved your way through the crowd. Your first instinct was to beat a hasty retreat before your absence from the corner was noticed but you couldn’t do that. Not in good conscience, anyway. The friend you’d gone out with was out on the dance floor with her boyfriend, oblivious to the panic making it hard for you to breathe and having a good old time. She’d worry herself sick if you vanished without a trace. You had to find her and fast.

“Hello.”

You nearly jumped right out of your skin when someone stepped directly into your path and you immediately recognized him. The ink black hair cascading over his shoulders was a dead giveaway. He was a strange mix of forgettably plain and strikingly unique, uncanny in a way. Just looking at him caused your fight or flight instincts to go haywire and you shuffled back a step, shuddering when those eerily blank eyes tracked the motion. It felt like he was peering right through you.

“I’m Illumi.”

Brows knitting, you shook your head in disbelief. You didn’t really care what his name was. “What do you want?”

“Come with me.” He said, reaching out to grab the meat of your upper arm.

It happened too quick for you to pull away and your eyes widened in surprise. His fingers were as unrelenting as iron and as cold as the dead. The notion that he wasn’t human flashed through your mind, screaming at you like a flashing neon sign, but it was too late. He already had you in his clutches and all you could do was sputter indignantly when he pulled you into motion. This could not be happening.

“Let go of me!” You hissed. “I’ll scream if you don’t. I’ll scream so loud your ear drums will bleed! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’d rather you didn’t do that but if you feel the need then go ahead.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t possibly be serious right now. “W - where are you taking me?” You quivered, losing some of your adrenaline fueled bluster.

“Not far.” Was his simple answer to that question.

Dumbfounded, you gaped at the back of his head. It was a struggle to wrap your mind around what was even happening let alone figure out how he could be so nonplussed about this. Didn’t this count as kidnapping, or at least abduction? And didn’t anyone care?

A quick, terrified look around the crowded bar seemed to suggest not. It was like they didn’t even see him dragging you away against your will and you’d just taken a breath to shriek, determined to make them care by causing enough of a scene that they couldn’t ignore it any longer when Illumi abruptly pulled you off course. The air caught in your throat as you stumbled through a door and straight into a bathroom. It was small and cramped. Only enough room for a toilet and a sink.

You spun on him when he released your arm, the abused nerves crying out in agony. There were sure to be blooming purple splotches in the shape of his fingers come morning, if you made it that long, but there were more pressing matters to worry about at the moment. He was locking the door and turning to look at you expectantly. Your face promptly drained of all color. Surely he wasn’t serious.

“Are you out of your mind?”

Illumi cocked his head to one side as if that’d been a strange question to ask of him. “I’m perfectly sane, thank you.”

You barked out a humorless laugh. “I doubt that. Unlock the door. Now!”

“I don’t think so.” He closed the distance between you two in a single step and you recoiled. His hands came up as fast as before, maybe even faster, to cradle your cheeks between his calloused palms and tilt your face up at him and you trembled. “You’ve been a bad girl, you know. Talking to those other men like I wasn’t even standing right there. I won’t tolerate promiscuity.”

You were too stunned to even blink. “Wha … I -”

“It’s time for your punishment now. Are you ready?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before forcing you down onto your knees so hard that pain spiderwebbed throughout your legs. You seethed and swayed unsteadily, physically reeling from the shock. Illumi was much stronger than his lithe frame would suggest. You hadn’t anticipated such unrelenting force from those elegantly skinny arms of his but that was nothing compared to the startlement that rushed through you when he reached for the front of his pants.

“Wait -”

One of his hands shot down to grab your hair at the roots and pull you up straight, making it impossible for you to escape now. An ugly, wet sob bubbled to life in your constricting throat and you almost choked on it. Everything was happening too fast. None of it made any sense. All you could do was suck in one ragged breath after another as you numbly watched him shove his loose fitting pants down his thighs, trying not to hyperventilate. The half hard cock that sprung up into the air, mere inches from your nose, very nearly sent you into a full blown panic attack but you managed to rein it in through sheer force of will. Now wasn’t the time to dissolve into hysterics. You needed to think.

“Listen to me. Please.” You croaked, looking up at him pleadingly. “I wasn’t being promiscuous. You’re not my boyfriend. I don’t even know anything about you.”

Illumi had the nerve to appear somewhat surprised by that assertion. “You don’t? That’s odd. I know everything about you.”

Your gut twisted. The implication alone was horrifying but if he was telling the truth, if he wasn’t bluffing …

You were in such a shellshocked daze that you didn’t notice Illumi guiding his cock to your mouth until the head of it brushed your lips. Grimacing, you tried to pull away but he merely tightened his hold on your hair and jerked you back into place. You whimpered and he tried again. This time you petulantly clamped your lips shut in a hard line, denying him access even when he tried to force his way in.

With a click of his tongue, he gave up. “If you don’t open your mouth it's only going to get worse. There are plenty of other ways I could choose to punish you.”

It didn’t take long for you to realize he was right. You were probably getting off easy this way. He was clearly in a position to do anything he damn well wanted and there was very little you could do to stop him. Maybe it was better to just swallow your pride, get this over with and pretend like nothing had ever happened. The invisible scars would probably be less severe, at least.

Hesitantly, you parted your lips. Illumi gave no outward sign of approval and he wasted no time sliding his cock head inside your mouth. The weight of him settled on your tongue as you fought to breathe through your nose, shuddering at the bitter taste of him. He was almost completely hard now and he twitched against the roof of your mouth, smearing a bead of precum across your palette. You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and settled into your spot on the floor, apathetically accepting your fate. There was nothing you could do about it now.

A long beat of quiet passed over the cramped little room.

“Well?” Illumi quipped at length. “Aren’t you going to suck it?”

Your eyes snapped up to fix him with a heated glare. It didn’t seem to bother him one bit though and you could feel your face growing warm as you bobbed your head forward, listlessly pulling him in deeper. The thought of actually putting in any effort to get him off made your stomach roil but it quickly became apparent that you didn’t have any other choice. He seemed content to just stand there with his prick in your mouth for as long as it took. You could see he had the patience and his cock showed no sign of softening any time soon so you had a choice to make. Bite the bullet and get it over with or prolong the humiliation.

What he’d said about this being a punishment echoed through your mind. He was under the impression that you’d wronged him, that you were somehow cheating on him with those other men, which meant you had to earn his forgiveness. You could do that. Probably.

Shifting on your protesting knees, you carefully brought your hands up to brace them on Illumi’s thighs. He allowed it, much to your relief, and you used the newfound leverage to swallow him down to about the midway point of his shaft. You got no reaction for your trouble but that wasn’t about to stop you. Not when you’d already sunk this low and you pulled back only to repeat the process, not stopping this time until you felt the glans tickle your tonsils. Pausing there, you brought your tongue up to the lav the underside of him in attention he didn’t deserve.

He remained as stoic as a stone statue above you, the continued silence only spurring you on in some sick, twisted way. You didn’t stop long enough to consider how messed up that was and, drawing a steadying breath through your nose, you started bobbing your head. Up and down, up and down, over and over again, letting him drag the accumulating spit out of your mouth on each upward pull. It dripped down your chin in thick sheets, pooling and oozing onto your exposed cleavage in heavy clumps that quickly cooled in the air. You felt like a sloppy mess but you could tell Illumi was enjoying the hasty mouth fuck by the sporadic tic in his thigh muscles. You still hadn’t gotten much of a response out of him though and you decided to test your luck. There wasn’t a whole lot you could lose at this point so it was worth a shot at least.

Holding the oxygen in your lungs, you relaxed your throat and leaned into him. The smooth glans dipped into your throat, very nearly setting off your gag reflex, but you persisted. Inch by inch, he slid down your neck until your eyes were watering with reflexive tears and your nose touched the base of his pelvis. You stayed there for a moment, trying not to wretch around him, but it was a lost cause. Stomach heaving, you came up off him with a wet, ragged gasp. Ropes of glistening spittle stretched between his bobbing cock and your raw lips, only further highlighting your degradation and making you feel even more ashamed for submitting to his demands like this. It was shameful.

So caught up in swallowing the pitiful sobs that were clawing their way up the back of your throat, you almost missed the sigh of pleasure he breathed out. Almost.

Gaze lifting, you numbly peered into Illumi’s face. His expression was as blank as ever but the glint in his dark eyes seemed to suggest you’d found the winning formula. Either he genuinely liked being deepthroated or the action was enough of a struggle for you that he got off on watching you do it. Either way, you couldn’t afford to waste this nugget of information. If that’s what it took to put an end to this farce then so be it.

You breathed in and you breathed out. Steeled your resolve. Bringing your hand up to grasp the base of him and keep him still, you took Illumi’s cock into your mouth again. Straight to the edge of your throat where you paused just long enough to force the muscles to relax before swallowing him down your neck again. You could actually feel the way he filled out the narrow, fleshy passage and stretched it right to the point of discomfort, the baser part of your brain screaming that you were choking. It took every ounce of willpower you possessed to smother the urge to pull off him again as you nuzzled into the short trimmed curls that were tickling your nose. He was very neat and clean, you had to give him that.

“I knew you’d figure it out.” He said softly. “There can’t be forgiveness if there isn’t an appropriate amount of suffering first.”

Wretching around him, you gurgled noisily in response. Your vision was clouded over and blurred from the neverending stream of tears pricking your lash line and you were starting to get light headed, but you forced yourself to stay put for just a moment longer. Praying that it would push him that much closer to the edge. The sooner he came the sooner you’d be free to go and, hating that you couldn’t endure any longer, you pulled back until he slipped out of your throat. Choking and heaving for air as a fresh deluge of spit poured out of your mouth right along with his cock.

Your stomach lurched at the sight of it wetly flopping between his thighs. You weren’t sure how many more times you could do that without throwing up all over the front of him. He probably deserved it but you had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate it much.

You groaned in frustration and fisted his prick again, desperately pumping at him. Illumi’s fingers only gripped your hair even harder, making your scalp burn, and you quickly got the picture. It was all or nothing.

Sucking in a haggard breath, you surged forward onto his prick again. Your throat constricted and tried valiantly to keep him out this time but you forced yourself down, down until he was once again wedged deep inside your neck. Shoulders shaking, you stayed there with your nose flush against his pelvis for as long as you could stand it, only pulling back when you thought for sure you were going to pass out. Illumi’s hand stilled you though, exerting just enough force to keep you right where you were.

Your eyes widened. Genuine panic rushed into the forefront of your mind in an instant and you struggled to pull off his cock, frantically pushing at his thighs to signal that you needed air. But he was implacable, entirely unperturbed, and when you started to thrash he merely brought his other hand down to lock your head in place. You were trapped. He wasn’t going to let you spit him out this time. Would he really let you suffocate right here on the bathroom floor?

“Relax.”

You would have laughed if you could. All you did instead was loudly wretch so hard that snot bubbled out of your nose. You coughed around him, frantically swallowed and choked again. Every muscle in your body heaved and you spit up an obscene amount of saliva that oozed out around his cock and ran down your face. You were covered in it now, the top of your low cut shirt uncomfortably damp with it, but that was the least of your problems now. Everything was starting to recede to a throbbing pinprick of consciousness and you knew you were going to blackout. Just a few more seconds and it would all fade away.

At least you would be free of this nightmare.

Illumi abruptly yanked on your hair, tearing you off his cock so forcefully that you fell back into the wall. Your head thumped against it but you were much too disoriented to notice the pain. Blinking widely to clear your vision, you sucked in a much needed lungfull of fresh air and owlishly peered up at him. His thin lips were parted in a surprisingly delicate ‘o’, the only readily available sign that he was at all affected by what was happening. Your dazed attention dropped lower and locked on his glistening prick when he angled it at your face. Realizing what he was doing, you opened your mouth to protest but it was too late.

Thick ropes of pearl white ejaculate erupted from the glans and hit you dead center between the eyes. You froze, too stunned to react, and a second splurt of cum promptly splattered across your forehead. The third and final load hit its mark on your chin, mixing with the mess of spit you were covered in.

You couldn’t believe it. Any of it. The fact he’d felt it necessary to paint your face, as if to complete the humiliation sundae you’d suffered at his hands, threatened to bowl you over right on the spot. You didn’t even have the wherewithal to put up a fight when he guided his flagging erection to your mouth and wiped the lingering traces of semen across your mouth. How were you supposed to get home looking like this?

Oblivious, or perhaps unconcerned, Illumi casually went about pulling his pants back into place and secured them with an emerald green sash while you sat there, reeling in the aftermath. You’d hoped he’d just leave and let you wallow in your misery alone but of course that was asking too much. He shuffled close again and bent at the waist to place a condescending hand on top of your head. Toying with the notion of spitting right in his stupid face, you looked up at him with the most furious scowl you could muster. It didn’t bother him, of course.

“I hope you make better choices next time.” He said blandly. “You belong to me. No one else. Do you understand?”

You nodded your head tersely, already notating a comprehensive restraining order in your head.

“Good. I’m afraid I won’t be so lenient next time.”

#Hunter X Hunter #hxh #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #self insert bullshit

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