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detectivereyes · 3 years

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I Watched the Leaves Go From Green to Grey

Summary: When TK gets anxious, he gets into fights.

Notes: for the self-harm square on my @badthingshappenbingo card, or my interpretation of it bc i didn’t want to write a traditional “self harm” fic yk

beta’d by @marjansmarwani and also s/o to loml @seaoflittlefires for providing her objective perspective and fixing all my past/present tense issues 💗

word count: 2.3k

read on ao3

If you asked TK, the first time it happened was definitely an accident.

He wasn’t planning on getting into a fight, and he wasn’t even that high. Instead he found himself riding out the tail end of a high in some dingy bar in the East Village, trying to numb the pain with whatever alcohol the bartender would give him with a quick flash of his fake ID. At only 16, he knew he didn’t look 21, but the bartender didn’t ask or didn’t care.

It started with a simple misplacement of his elbow, brushing up too close against the glass of whiskey belonging to the burly man sitting next to him. He didn’t even realize what had happened until he heard the glass shatter on the floor between them.

He started to stutter out some form of an apology but not before he felt a flash of pain hit his face, radiating through his lower jaw until his body collided with the ground. Though he was caught off guard, the pain he’s feeling didn’t feel wrong. In fact it made him feel alive.

He hopped back up, managing to throw in a few punches of his own until more of the burly man's friends showed up and he couldn't decipher which direction the blows were coming from. But with each punch or kick, he felt more empowered. Each freshly formed bruise serving as a reminder that he wasn’t actually numb.

He was here, and he was alive.

Fortunately, he had managed to sneak out before the cops showed up. Unfortunately, the bruises did not go unnoticed by his mom or dad. Though they didn’t press too hard, he knew he would have to be more careful next time.

He never forgot the outlet getting into fights provided. A way to not only relieve the numbness, but relieve stress and have the pain on the outside match what he felt on the inside.

He didn’t get into fights that often, only when the pain built up too much and he needed to let it out somehow. Or sometimes he used it as a way to just quiet the anxious thoughts when substances no longer did the trick.

Even after he got clean, he would occasionally find himself back in some random bar that he hadn’t managed to get himself kicked out of yet. Every bar had at least one drunk asshole who he knew would be easy to pick a fight with.

He quickly learned the right words to trigger the perfect reaction. He also got better ducking and throwing his own punches, and hiding the bruises that did form on his skin until his parents no longer noticed or worried about him.

When he arrived in Austin, he figured it would only be a matter of time before he found himself in a dingy bar on the outskirts of town, opposite of the bar the team frequented to avoid any chance of running into a familiar face.

The numb feeling and colorless vision was too much and Judd’s words only served to exacerbate the pain he was feeling inside. He attempted to fight Judd, knowing his larger frame could do a lot of damage and would do the trick. But he should have known the other man wouldn’t fight back, instead holding him close so he couldn’t do any damage until Paul broke them up.

As soon as the shift ended, TK all but ran into the Uber. The tension in his body wound up too tight and he knew it wouldn’t settle until he got in a fight.

The fight itself was a blur, but what happened next wasn’t. As he walked out of the police station with his bag of belongings and busted lip still pulsing in pain, Carlos’ words rang in his ear.

You should talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal.

Was it suicidal? He always saw it as a way to remind himself that he was alive, not trying to die. But he'd also never met someone who cared so much about his well being.

The police officers he usually ran into during his fights never seemed to give a shit about why he did what he did. And if the guys he hooked up with noticed the busted lips or black eyes, they never said anything.

Carlos checked both of those boxes, yet seemed genuinely concerned with what TK was getting himself into.

That was when he knew things would be different here.

And they were for a time. For a while the color returned into his life and the pain that he had grown so accustomed to settled into a dull ache that he barely noticed.

But like everything else, the good could never last. And soon enough the pain grew more noticeable and he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. He needed to know he wasn't numb. He needed to feel pain. He needed to fight.

So he found himself in another dingy bar, much similar to the one he went to when he got to Austin over a year ago. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He had to call someone. But Carlos was on shift and his dad was on a date and while both would have probably picked up in a heartbeat, he couldn't do that to them. And anyone else he could have called wouldn’t understood or known what to do.

He knew what he had to do.

On muscle memory he ran through his routine, spouting out the perfect words to trigger the reaction he craved.

After only a few blows to the face, the punches stopped and the fight broke up as the cops arrived. He scanned the area, letting out a sigh of relief when he didn't see Carlos’ familiar brown eyes, and managed to slip out the back before anyone noticed.

The Uber ride from the bar back to his and Carlos’ home passed by in a blur. If his driver noticed the purple bruises likely beginning to blossom on his face, she didn't say anything.

He made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as he walked through the door, hoping that the damage wasn't bad enough that he couldn't cover it up. There was no way Carlos wouldn't notice, but if cleaned it up a bit and came up with a good story, it might not be as bad.

Flipping on the light switch TK frowned at his reflection. While there were a few scattered bruises all over his body, the worst by far was the one forming around his eye, already turning a lovely shade of deep purple. Above his eye was a short but deep gash, stretching across his eyebrow.

Well, that definitely wouldn't go unnoticed.

TK sighed, rifling through the medicine cabinet until he found the box of butterfly bandaids. He knew it probably would need stitches, but if he could avoid a trip to the ER tonight, that would be ideal, and these bandages would do the trick for now. He carefully placed two on his eyebrow, hissing at the contact as the wound closed. He then shut off the light and settled on the living room sofa, waiting for Carlos to come home.

By the time he heard the jiggling of keys in the door, a few hours had passed and he had nearly fallen asleep under the soft blanket on the couch. He panicked for a second, not quite ready for Carlos’ reaction when he saw TK’s face.

On impulse, he ducked under the blanket before the door swung open. He could see the light switch on and Carlos’ outlined shape from beneath the cover.

“Babe? What’s going on?” he asked. TK could sense he had stopped in front of the couch but was refraining from coming any closer.

“Don’t freak out,” was all TK could manage to say, and he could only imagine the confusion painting his boyfriend’s face.

“I’m freaking out that you won’t tell me what’s going on,” he stated matter of factly.

TK sighed before slowly pulling down the blanket and peeking his head out, giving Carlos a sheepish grin.

Carlos’ eyes widened in concern as he sat down next to TK, gently running his fingers over TK’s swollen eye. “What happened, baby?”

“Combative patient,” the lie rolled too easily off his tongue. “Woke up while we were treating him and took a swing at me.”

“I see,” Carlos nodded slowly. “And these other bruises?” he added, trailing his hand over the blossoming bruises on TK’s neck and arms. When he reached his torso, he didn't miss the way TK winced at the contact. TK hadn't even realized how sore he was.

“Must have fallen a little bit in the scuffle,” he shrugged.

Carlos hummed along to TK’s response. TK tried to get a read on what Carlos was making of his story. It was a pretty good one if he gave himself any credit, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Carlos just wasn't buying it.

“You know how people get when they’re caught off guard,” he quickly added, panicking when he realized he should be adding more details before Carlos could doubt him anymore.

Carlos though remained silent, studying him carefully.

“We’re here to help them but they don’t always realize that right away,” he laughed nervously, hoping Carlos wasn't catching on to his anxious rambling.

“TK,” Carlos trailed off, his eyebrows pinching together in worry. He knew something was off, and there was no getting out of it.

Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, he decided to dam break. He launched into the whole story about how he felt so on edge after his shift and he didn’t know what else to do, which is why he fell back into old habits. Carlos listened intently as he explained what happened when he showed up at the bar and instigated the fight, and ducking out he could get caught.

“I’m so sorry, Carlos. Please don’t be mad,” he said at the end of his rant, still shaking with adrenaline while he waited to see how Carlos would handle hearing the truth.

Carlos sighed, gently rubbing TK’s shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, TK.”

“You’re not?” TK said, sniffling.

“No, but I am concerned at why you didn’t think you could call me. And then why you felt like you had to lie about it.”

TK shrugged. “I’m just kind of used to bottling it up, I guess.”

“But you should know you can talk to me about this kind of stuff.”

“I do! But sometimes it just gets to be so much that I don’t know what else to do and I need a way to let it all out.”

“What gets to be so much?” Carlos cocked his head to the side.

“Everything,” TK quickly responded, as if that clarified anything he was saying. He knew he wasn't making much sense and Carlos was trying his best to understand. But TK didn't know how else to describe the way he was feeling. Like a row of tightly wound string, one pluck away from snapping.

“TK, what happened that made you want to get into a fight tonight?” Carlos asked.

“I,” TK started to answer but stopped himself when he realized he didn't even have a good answer. He'd never stopped to consider the reasons for why he felt this way. All he knew was that he felt like he was about to explode and he needed a good way to release it. “I don’t know.”

Carlos nodded, and TK could only admire the patience his boyfriend had with him. The tears started to well up in his eyes and he took some shaky breaths as Carlos pulled him close into a hug, letting him sob into his broad chest.

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” he whispered softly into TK’s ear. “But I think it is important to examine why you do feel this way. And to realize when it starts to get bad so it doesn’t happen again.”

TK pulled away from Carlos’ embrace, nodding and wiping back the tears while doing so. “It just feels like there’s always this pain, and sometimes I don’t notice it but other times it’s so much that I need to do something about it. And I can’t do the other stuff I used to do to deal with it, but getting into these fights… I don’t know, it helps. Which probably doesn’t make any sense but it’s better than some of my other coping mechanisms.”

Carlos gave him a sympathetic look. “TK, it might not be drugs, but you are just as likely to get hurt.”

TK looked down, nervous squeezing his hands, unsure of how to respond to Carlos’ observations.

“It’s not healthy,” he continued. “I need you to promise me you will call next time. It doesn’t matter what time, or if I’m on shift, or I’m asleep. Talk to me about it. And talk to me about what you’re feeling all the time so we can try to prevent it getting this bad. Okay?”

TK nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” Carlos tilted TK’s head up so they matched each other's gaze. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I know,” he gave Carlos a small smile. “I appreciate it, and your patience with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. We’re a team, and I want to help you in whatever way possible. I love you, TK”

TK melted under Carlos’ soft brown eyes and genuine smile. “I love you too, Carlos.”

#bad things happen bingo #badthingshappenbingo #self harm #911 lone star #911lonestarfic #my fic #userjillian #userbones #tuserpaige #usermaximus #userjilly #userkimmy #moviegeek03 #also hey anon if you have an issue with this fic #you are welcome to discuss it with me off anon #bc that function has been shut off #so you now must show your face (so to speak)#but i am 100% open to hearing you out on what you think the issue is here.

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le-amewzing · 2 years

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blowback

Tmw a fic idea sneaks up out of nowhere bc the OTP persists. -w- *Note: Set during s19e18, "Last Dance."

Fic: "blowback" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: pre?Alden Parker/Jess Knight

Rating: K+

Words: ~1,090

Additional info: (light) angst, romance, 3rd person POV

Summary: Parker is reminded, once again, just why he feels he isn't cut out for this "teamwork" stuff. Knight provides him with evidence to the contrary.

Parker huffed and cleared his throat, double-checking his phone at his desk. But, no, Bandium was silent without updates, and he'd had no further gripes from the U.S. Marshals either. He wondered how long this old Diaz case from Torres' past was going to drag out.

"Something wrong?" Knight asked, lifting her head from the file she'd been reading for the last several minutes.

"Nope," he replied. Parker set his phone aside and brought up a tab on his computer to distract himself.

"Parker. You've been sighing all night."

Had he? Parker glanced at McGee's desk, wondering if there'd be confirmation, only to find it empty. So he turned Knight's way instead. "I didn't mean to break your concentration. Sorry, Knight."

But Knight frowned and closed the folder in front of her. She furrowed her dark brow. "Well, break away. You've seemed off since coming back without Torres in tow."

He opened his mouth to protest…but promptly shut it, especially the longer Knight's eyes bored holes in him. Parker gave her the tiniest of shrugs. "Just thinking it's awfully quiet right now," he admitted.

She could've replied with the obvious, that the office was fairly empty at this later hour. She could've made a lighthearted joke, something to distract him from his worries or to commiserate; Knight was good at that, despite all her self-deprecating remarks about her awkwardness. But she did neither of these things, and Parker rather saw her response coming, given how often she analyzed him and how she'd gently (and, at times, more strongly) been encouraging him to open up to her. "Mind still back at Maria's last-known location?"

Yep, she knew exactly where Parker's thoughts were. "Torres was not happy, going into the Marshals' protective custody," he said.

"No one ever is, least of all if you're an agent getting pulled from the field." Knight pushed back her chair to stand and came over to Parker's desk, where she rested her fingers along the edge. She cocked her head slightly to her right while she scrutinized him. "…but it's more than just this case bugging you, isn't it?"

Parker pursed his lips, pulling them tight, close to wincing in the face of Knight getting so close to hitting the nail on the head. He felt his shoulders twitch up of their own volition, out of habit—

"Yeah, no, you're not shrugging this one off. Come on, Parker."

He huffed at the interruption as well as at Knight's insistent wave of her hand to get up. But he joined her regardless, because Knight typically had good ideas. "Come where?" he groused.

"No bakeries are open this late," she said as they exited the bullpen and went down the hallway, hooking past interview rooms, "and the closest grocery store stopped being open twenty-four hours two years ago. So this sugar fix will have to do." Knight gestured grandly to the candy-filled vending machine with a big smile and jazz hands. All that was missing was "Ta-dah!"

Parker settled her with a dry stare, although he couldn't keep a straight face for long, and the left corner of his mouth quirked up the longer Knight held her goofy pose. "All right, all right," he conceded with a nod. His motion helped cover a chuckle, just in case she mistook him for laughing at her.

Knight fed the machine a bill and let her eyes wander over the glass. To Parker, she said, "You look like a Snickers man to me."

Now he did chuckle, though it came out sounding like a scoff to his ear. "Got it in one."

"My kind of guy." She grinned and punched in the number, though only one bar fell to the bottom. Knight frowned. "Shoot. That's the last one."

It figured. Nothing was going right while this case sat in their laps. Still, Parker didn't have it in him to be greedy. "Split it?" he asked while Knight fetched the candy bar.

Her grateful smile said it all. "So," she began, leaning back on the vending machine and passing Parker the half of the Snickers still in the wrapper, "wanna tell me what's actually bugging you?"

He took a bite at the same time she did. They enjoyed the treat in silence, though Parker organized his thoughts while Knight ate another morsel. "I'm not partial to getting yelled at, for one," he eventually said.

Knight was quiet for a few beats, long enough that Parker slid his eyes her way. Ah. She had one eyebrow sky high. "What? Nick went off on you?" she asked.

Parker made a "so-so" gesture with his free hand. "I might call it 'having a hissy fit,' but same difference." He ate some more chocolate.

"I mean—when you returned to the office, you downplayed it so much, I thought—" Knight stopped there to pout at him. "Dammit, Parker. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Don't downplay things. Don't shrug it off." She raised her eyebrows, the unsaid added, Just come talk to me.

And he knew. He…was working on that. On all of it. "Look, Knight, I just—" He exhaled. "All, I'll say is, unkind words were said and, if the Marshals hadn't been there to take Torres themselves, he probably wouldn't be safe and off Diaz's radar right now."

"Because he's a stubborn ass, I know, I know." Knight's blunt words about her friend took Parker a little by surprise. But the next ones had him utterly perplexed: "Well, at least this is an improvement."

"Come again?"

Knight looked up at him and gave Parker a sympathetic smile. "Parker, you once told Nick to say it to your face instead of venting his crap on Bandium."

Parker's eyes widened. The exchange floated to the forefront of his mind, though this had transpired months ago. He thought he'd broken the ice with Torres, with the team, back then. Clearly, he had, to have reached this point. "…huh," he mumbled in amazement.

"That said, he shouldn't've taken it out on you." She bumped her right shoulder with his left but left their arms touching. "Mind if I say something to him about it?"

He chuckled once more, amused (flattered?) by that protective streak of hers. "No… No, I'm good, Knight. But thanks." To show his appreciation, Parker offered her the last bite of his half of the Snickers.

She stopped licking the chocolate from her fingertips and gleefully accepted.

Parker smiled to himself. More than this sugar fix, his chat with Knight left him sated.

Ever just…enjoy an episode and think, "Okay, good ep, but no inspo for fic/art here" and then move on? Only to, of course, days later have inspiration while analyzing said ep with a friend. XDDD Bc that's what happened with e18!!! It was Nick-centric, and I adored it, and my heart aches for my bby. ;w; But btwn reviewing the ep with a friend and then catching the rerun of s19e7, "Docked," I was struck with this idea and couldn't resist! A little encouragement from Knight to brighten Parker's night. ;3 (Not to mention, "Docked" gave me a smidge of inspo for another fic I was already planning to write, so… Here's to more rewatches for me, I guess! XD) Jeez, tho. Parknight's so naturally charming and cozy~ -w- And if you're not convinced (or if you want more ;D), then go read my other Parknights! And feel free to request! Although it doesn't seem as tho my muse is ready to let up on this Parknight train anytime soon… (Esp since, as I write this A/N, it is only late April—idk if anyone's keeping count, but March and April have been a RLY active Parknight period for me. XD Makes me wonder how this will hit, after the s19 finale… :O) And if you need other kinds of Parknight content, be sure to check out my tumblr sideblog for them, too, parknights~

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#ncis #parknight #alden parker #jessica knight #fanfic #mew writes too much #pls halp they've got such good chemistry #<3

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

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Jelly Slugs

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2,278

Warnings: Swearing, a little angsty, still plenty of fluff

Song to Set the Vibe: broken ~ lovelytheband

Request: @mcluuvin666 hi could i request a harry potterxreader in which the reader & harry always seem to find each other in the hospital wing at the end of each year because of harry’s adventures & somehow she always ends up hurt in a funny/ironic way even though it wasn’t her intention to get caught in their messes if that makes sense? either way harry & the reader get really close throughout years of ending up in the hospital wing w the reader being frustrated w the trio bc they’re the “reason” why she’s hurt and she’s just kinda like “you lot are going to be the death of me” but harry and reader end up going out anyway. lots of fluff and maybe angst if you can? thank you so much!!

A/n: Once agian so sorry this took so long! It may not be completely edited, excuse typos, I wrote litteratly all of it tonight. I'm trying to burn through my requets, if u sent one I got it I'm just waiting to get to it

At eleven years old you had already had far too many near-death experiences, for you that meant one. You hadn’t meant to do anything at all, well except grab some snacks from the kitchen after hours, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before. On your way back your ears had picked up a sweet symphony and you had grown curious.

Turning a few unfamiliar corners you found the room, its heavy door ajar. You pushed it all the way open, a pastry still stuffed in your mouth preventing you from screaming. A large three-headed beast lay in front of you snoring loudly. Before you could turn and run your eyes found a small wooden trap door at its feet. The phrase your mother often scolded you with echoed in your head, Curiosity killed the cat. You about turned on your heel but then the ending of the saying learned from an equally mischievous classmate came to you, But satisfaction brought it back.

You dropped the food in your hands and walked hesitantly towards the large dog. You then quietly opened the door, cringing as its hinges squeaked and peered inside being met with complete darkness. You were going to close the door retrieve your treats then head back to your dorm but as you turned you met a pair of brilliantly green eyes and you let out a yelp before stumbling backward and plunging into the hole with a scream. You were soon followed by three of your classmates almost as confused as you were.

You ended up getting your arm broken by a giant chess piece on your way to retrieve something you didn’t fully understand and what you believed to be a curse began.

You sat up in a cold sweat the image of a white stone queen drawing her sword waking you with a start. You rubbed your eyes only to find your left arm in a sling and aching a bit.

“Oh, good you’re awake.”

You turned to your right to see a little boy in round glasses smiling at you. “What happened last night?” you asked eyes wide.

“It’s a long story, but I suppose we have time.” He shrugged, “Jelly slug?” he offered holding out a colorfully wrapped package.

“Yes please.”

Second year began as normal as it should have but it was soon strange and dangerous, pearlized classmates and strict rules making the school feel less and less like a home. Of course, your luck being about as bad as it got, you where the last victim of the basilisk.

You had been polishing trophies to serve detention which you got for supposedly bad-mouthing Snape although it wasn’t your fault Draco was a filthy snitch. You then saw a large pair of yellow eyes in the shining metal and everything went dark.

You woke up four days later body aching eyes feeling extremely dry as you blinked vigorously. You had a strange sense of deja vu as the hospital wing soon came into view. Head once again thumping as you tried to recall your memories.

“Oh right, you're here.”

You turned your head to the right to see a wide smile, green eyes hidden behind round glasses as cuts riddled the boy’s face.

“Merlin Harry, what happened to you?” You gasped taking in his battered form.

He shrugged, “I fought Voldemort.”

You cringed at the name but said nothing of it to him, “Again?”

He laughed, “Yeah, this time it hurt more though.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened a bit, “Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay too.”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence before Harry reached to his bedside table and offered you a tissue-wrapped box, “Jelly Slug?”

You nodded taking it from him

Third-year had been downright dreadful for you. You were finally a teenager which basically meant everything that had been easy and quick now seemed to take hours and far too much thought. Every little thing you did you were sure would be scrutinized, it didn’t help when a close friend of yours spread a nasty rumor about you and you found yourself skipping classes and opting to stay in bed. A serial killer being on the loose certainly didn’t help.

The only sort of decent thing that happened was your friendship with Harry, after two times of healing in the hospital wing together you decided to be at least acquaintances. You held study sessions with the boy and occasionally his two best friends although all they did was bicker.

You also happened to be outside reading when a rat lept on you and dove down your shirt leading to you being dragged into a tree by a dog who turned out to be a serial killer who turned out to be Harry’s godfather. But to be honest you didn’t really care.

You were absolutely livid, your leg was torn apart and for the third time in a row you had somehow been shoved into an adventure you most certainly didn’t want to take part in and you were bleeding heavily because of it.

Oh yes, how could you forget? You were also almost killed by your professor, who had turned into a werewolf just in time to almost kill you again.

When you woke up in the hospital wing with the golden trio surrounding you, you weren’t so pleasant.

A string of foul curse words, pointing fingers and yelling was shot at the three teens who apologized profusely insisting they did not mean to get you caught up in their business.

You eventually calmed down and found out it wasn’t all that bad considering you got to see the suddenly very attractive dark-haired boy who made a point to spend all of his free time in the hospital wing with you as your leg healed. You shared a large amount of jelly slugs as you read muggle books and did your best to stay on top of studies.

Fourth year was much better than the last. You and Harry spent more and more time together and you felt a large crush on the boy who lived growing. Hermione knew about it instantly and Ron seemed adamant to tease both of you just for the joy of watching your faces flush. But good things never lasted.

You had a heart attack when Harry’s name came out of the goblet and found yourself taking his side in a sudden war between him and Ron. The bitch of a journalist Rita Skita also plastered you and Harry’s face all over the daily prophet when she caught you hugging him before his first task. You went with Harry to the ball although to both of your disappointment only as friends. And you ended up comforting Hermione in the hallway anyway.

You also were almost drowned by your sorry excuse for teachers in the second task. Never one to back down from a fight you yelled directly at Dumbledor and Karkaroff saying how if your name wasn’t pulled out of that idiotic goblet than you shouldn’t have to almost die for the even more idiotic tournament. Of course, you did this with a very colorful vocabulary that landed you three weeks of detention.

When Harry pulled Cedric from the maze you had cheered clapping along with the band until suddenly you heard the boy wail like a wounded animal. You raced down to meet him and helped pull him off of the elder boy’s body.

He was shaking the entire time and when you finally managed to drag him away he buried his head into your neck and sobbed.

Harry was then dragged away by Mad-Eye and you were quick to follow, bursting in on the two just as Moody no longer became Moody.

“Harry!” You yelled diving at the quickly transforming man who was holding him at wand point.

Your body suddenly erupted in such harsh pain you thought you might throw up.

“Y/n!” Harry’s yells fell on deaf ears as the unforgivable curse took all of your attention.

By the time Harry was able to disarm the man, you had passed out from the pain.

You woke up in the hospital wing three days later a disheveled Harry seated in a chair next to you his arms folded on your bed his head resting on them.

When you tapped his shoulder lightly he jolted awake immediately engulfing you in his embrace sobbing out apologies as you pushed yourself closer into his chest.

“I’m so so sorry y/n, I never meant for you to be caught up in any of this.” He choked out pulling away from you and cupping your face in his hands.

“It’s okay Harry, I’m okay.” You spoke smiling weakly feeling extremely exhausted.

“But he used an unforgivable cu-”

“I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re okay.” You interrupted leaning into the soft circles his thumb was drawing on your cheek.

Harry’s eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion and suddenly his lips were on your own.

The second they connected he backed away blushing so heavily you were sure he was hot to the touch.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I don’t know what I was thinking and I-”

You only shook your head and wrapped your hands around his neck bringing his lips back to yours. His hands ended up on either side of you as you leaned back down on the bed bringing him with you. He hovered over you, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you played with the ends of his hair. He tasted overly sugary with a hint of fruit, just like a jelly slug.

You were interrupted by a cough followed by a low chuckle and Harry immediately pulled away from you and you turned to see not only your headmaster but Professor McGonagal and Madame Pomfrey all staring at you.

Your eyes went wide and you felt so hot you thought you might catch the sheets on fire. You stole a glance at Harry who had paled dramatically, looking sick.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better y/n.” Dumbledore chortled.

You hissed in at the pain that shot through your ankle. Your head had also begun to pound causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to relieve the pressure by pressing onto your temples. Fuck Umbridge. You hopped that bitch was dead, as your eyes began to adjust to the sudden brightness of your surroundings you saw an all to a familiar sight. The hospital wing had become your home away from home and now in fifth year you, it made sense you ended up there once again.

When your psychotic headmaster dragged you, your boyfriend and your two best friends out to the forbidden forest as she was attacked by a giant she managed to hit you with some sort of spell which effectively left you in your current state. Harry who was seated beside you wrapped his arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your neck.

“You okay?” He asked he seemed stressed, then again when wasn’t he?

“I’m fine.” You lied with a smile pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“I think you should stay here y/n/n, I can’t have you getting hurt.” He frowned. You then took notice of the group of teenagers was behind him. They were clearly about to leave.

“I think history has proven that kind of unavoidable at this point.” You sighed standing up and drinking whatever was on your nightstand, it turned out to be a pain medicine that tasted the equivalent of dragon piss.

“Y/n...” Harry spoke hesitantly.

You turned to look at your boyfriend, your face set in stone. “If you don’t take me with you I will find another way to that building.”

Harry sighed biting down on his lip, “Fine. Alright, guys, let’s go.”

Your lips twitched into a smile just as you were about to leave the room you noticed a small half-empty bag on the table next to your bed, you stuffed it into your pocket and ran after the group you had fallen behind.

You sat silently eyelids feeling so heavy you thought they might close at any moment. Your entire body ached, your headache coming back stronger than ever, but you didn't let onto your pain.

Harry had his head buried into your stomach as you combed through his messy hair, his sobs were the only sound in the massive black room. Sand was scattered around you as you clung to your boyfriend your back up against a black glass wall as you stared blankly ahead of you. Dumbledore stood a few feet away, seeming almost as lost as you were. Part of you hated him for putting Harry through everything he had just been through, but you knew it wasn’t his fault.

Harry adjusted himself so his head was buried into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. The movement caused something in your pocket to crinkle, catching your attention.

You reached into your robe and removed a half-empty bag of candy. You smiled in spite of yourself.

You tapped Harry on the shoulder whispering his name. He looked up at you his eyes rimmed in red, his face blotchy, the sight made your heart throb.

“Jelly Slug?” You asked your voice cracking.

The boy let out a mix between a laugh and a sob before lightly placing his lips onto your own. He tastes salty and bitter, like tears and blood. You found yourself wishing you were elven again when everything was simple, wishing that Harry still tasted like jelly slugs.

Taglist:

(Realizing I forgot this last fic I posted, my bad)

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

#harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter au #harry potter ships #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter x oc #hermione granger #ronald weasley #fanfic #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine

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aerynwrites · 4 years

Text

Stardust

Cassian Andor x Reader Soulmate!AU

Author’s Note: Why do I do this to myself? I almost cried writing this you guys, I am upset lol. I hope you guys like this bc I was so inspired to write this for whatever reason, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Character death, angst, lots of emotional turmoil, that’s it.

////

You had never met your soulmate.

Even though you had lived your entire life feeling all of their pain, their heartache, everything, you had never met them. You surmised from the countless bruises that appeared and the random bouts of pain that you recieved that they had a very active and apparently dangerous lifestyle - but you had no idea who they were. You didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, if they had dark hair or light, what they looked like, what they sounded like...it was all unknown to you.

So why did it hurt so much when they died?

You had been carrying the crop from your garden into your small home when you felt it. It started out as just a deep heartache, that for some reason slowly ebbed away until it was replaced by a terrible fiery pain all over. You dropped the basket in your hands, the pain bringing you to your knees before it was gone in an instant, replaced by something even worse than all the pain you had felt over the years.

There was nothing. Your soulmate was gone.

Your kind elderly neighbor, a woman named Ada who had basically been your mother since your parents had passed, heard your wails of anguish from her home. But even she could not console you as you screamed at the stars. You weren’t even thirty years old and already you had experienced the worst thing anyone ever will - the loss of your other half. Your mind went numb, you had never felt something this powerful in your short lifetime, something this life altering - aching so deep your bones seemed to hurt as Ada forced you from the ground and into your home. Everything was a blur, hidden and misconstrued by the utter anguish in your soul. You think the kind woman had tried to say something, ask what was going on, but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t past the tears burning your cheeks and the sobs ripping from your throat. The next thing you knew, you were in bed, curled in tightly on yourself with the blankets pulled up around your shoulders as you continued to wail into the pillow beneath you. You didn’t even know how much time had passed - seconds? Minutes? Hours?

The only thing your foggy mind seemed to register was that you needed sleep. That and an unfamiliar faint whisper as you fell into a fitful slumber.

‘I’m so sorry.’

***

It had been a couple of days since they died. And instead of things getting even slightly better, they just seemed to get worse. You felt empty since the moment you woke up, a part of you was missing after all, but even though you felt empty on the inside, you had the eerie feeling of not being alone. Every step you took around your small cottage, you felt watched - but not only that, things were...off. The first day after you woke up, you hadn’t left the bed, you didn't have the physical or emotional energy to do so. Yet, despite knowing you were the only one in your home, it’s like you could feel another presence. You tried to brush it off, excuse it as your mind trying to find some way of coping with this complete and utter loss you didn’t know how to deal with. But when you got up the following day and noticed small things were out of place, you didn’t really know what to do.

It went on like this for almost a week, you trying to cope with the fact that you would never meet your other half, along with these strange events. Sometimes you would walk into the living area, only to see your history books open and splayed out on the coffee table. Then the next moment you would be in the garden and you would hear footsteps next to you, like someone was walking through the foliage, only to turn and see no one there. But it all came to a head when you were awoken in the middle of the night - the first time you had managed to finally get some sleep - to the sounds of loud thuds and crashes coming from your living room. You leapt from your bed, and rushed into the room, shocked to see all of your books ripped from their shelves and tossed onto the floor. But the thing that set you off, that finally pulled at your last shred of sanity, was the photo album that lay open in the middle of it all. One of the pages floating back in its place slowly - as if someone had been leafing through the pages of memorabilia. You all but stomped over to the messy pile in the middle of the room, kneeling down to look at where the pages of the album had stopped moving, seeing only you and your parents smiling faces looking up at you. You felt a new wave of tears spill over and down your cheeks as you clutched at the book desperately, as if it would somehow ground you.

“What do you want?” you cry, looking up from the book and around your empty home, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You didn’t expect a response, you knew that you were most likely crazy, seeing these things - these figments of your imagination as a way of trying to cope with what had happened. So, when you finally turned to look in front of you once more, you let out a small scream when you saw a figure standing there. You flung yourself backwards onto your butt, hands reaching out behind you to catch yourself as you took in the intruder in your living room. He was tall, taller than you at least, and he looked like he had just fought a war. His dark hair was mussed, he had several cuts and scrapes on his face, and his clothing - a beige shirt and dark pants and boots - were covered in dirt and had holes in them. But the thing that struck you the most, was that you could see right through him. It's like he was a vision, something here but not quite all the way, as you could see your dining room table through his figure.

“Where am I?” the figure asked, his voice snapping you from your observation and instead bringing you back to the first night this all started.

‘I’m so sorry’ - The words ring in your ears as this stranger repeats his question in the same voice that spoke those words to you a week ago.

“Hey!” his voice bites, the snapping of his fingers making you focus on him again, “Tell me where I am? How did I get here?” His voice was sharp, his accent unfamiliar to you, yet you find a small sense of calm wash over you as he barks his questions.

You sit up slightly, never taking your eyes from him as you finally speak, “You’re on Kaith,” you say simply, voice weak after days of disuse.

The man shakes his head, “I’ve never heard of it,” he says flatly.

“It’s a small planet...on the outer rim,” you offer quietly, watching as he seemingly mulls over the information.

You take this moment of silence to speak up once more, you feel like you know this man, despite never having seen him in your life. He just feels…. familiar.

“What’s your name?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you gaze up at him.

You see him open his mouth to answer, before it snaps shut, a look of complete and utter confusion taking over his features as he looks about the room frantically before his eyes return to you, “I don’t know,” he breathes.

And then he’s gone.

***

It’s a few more days before your unexpected house guest shows himself again. Things had been calmer since he had shown up, less things moving around and such. You supposed he was too busy trying to remember who he was. You had rushed over to Ada’s house the day after he had appeared, stumbling over your words as you tried to explain what had happened. She didn’t say much, just listened to you while holding your hand and giving you a knowing look the entire time. She didn’t tell you much after you had finished either, just telling you some cryptic line about how you should be open to this and try to communicate. You had left her house more confused than before but opted to try and talk to the strange apparition again.

But he beat you to it.

“Cassian.”

You gasped as the voice reached your ears, breaking the silence of your home as you were cutting up vegetables for dinner. You dropped the knife and turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, seeing the same man as before standing a few feet away from you in the small space of your kitchen. He looks slightly different this time around. He was still transparent, his clothes were still tattered, and his face was still scuffed up, but his hair was neatly styled, combed to the side. He was looking at you intently, hands in his pockets as he waited for you to say something.

“What?” was all you managed to get out.

He chuckled slightly, and you tried to ignore the butterflies it created in your belly, before he spoke up once more, “My name,” he said, “It’s Cassian.”

You nod your head slowly, taking in the information for a moment before gaining the courage to speak again. You tell him your name, taking notice of the small smile that graces his lips as he repeats it, telling you it’s nice to officially meet you.

“Why are you here?” you blurt out, your curiosity getting the better of you, “I just want to understand.”

You see Cassian go stiff for a moment, before letting out a breath, running his hand through his neatly styled hair, “I don’t know,” he admits, “I don’t even know how I got here - I don’t understand what’s happening,” he sounds desperate now, confusion and panic lacing his words, “When I’m here, with you, it feels real - but then when I’m not it feels like a dream, like I’m floating in space,” he tries to explain.

You watch as he takes a few steps towards you closing the distance and you can really see the panic in his eyes, as he tries to find reasoning behind what’s happening, “Am I dead? Is this a dream? Please, you have to he-”

And then it’s like his voice is carried away in the wind along with him. You blink, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened, why this stranger just keeps appearing and disappearing out of thin air. Why he’s appearing to you, why he’s appearing at all. But you can’t seem to come up with an answer. At least not right now.

***

You’re crying when he appears again.

Curled up in your bed as the emptiness in your chest takes over once again. Since your soulmate died, you’ve had good days and bad, usually more bad than good - but today was especially tough for some reason. You had woken up from a dream cheeks damp with your tears as your mind haunted you with flashes of your soulmate even though you had never met them - but what had made it even more confusing was that it was Cassian’s face that kept appearing in your dreams. You hadn’t moved from your bed the rest of the day, alternating between waking moments filled with tears and grief, and sleeping moments mercifully filled with nothing but inky blackness.

Cassian had appeared in one of the waking moments.

You were surprised slightly when you felt a gentle sensation on your ankle, you looked down to see Cassian sitting at the foot of your bed, hand ghosting across your ankle in a comforting gesture. You also noticed that he looked different again, his clothes looked brand new, his hair was styled, but he still had the scrapes dusted along his forehead and cheekbone - and he was still transparent.

“Why do you cry so much?” he asks softly, eyes filled with concern as he gazed at you.

Part of you didn’t know if you wanted to tell him what was wrong, the rational part of you telling yourself that you didn’t know this man. But a smaller part of you, a part that you couldn’t really explain told you that you did know him. You could trust him - you were connected somehow.

“My soulmate died,” you whispered, bottom lip wobbling as you forced the words out.

Something flashed in Cassian’s eyes, a flicker of emotion you couldn’t quite catch before it disappeared and he spoke once more, “Were you together for long?”

You looked away from him then, shaking your head and wiping at the stray tears that fell from your eyes, “I hadn’t even met them yet,” you confess, “but I felt it when they died - and it’s like a part of me died too.”

You bring your eyes back to the man at the end of your bed and you take in a deep breath, “Did you have a soulmate?” you ask quietly, voice barely a whisper, yet Cassian heard it with ease.

That one question seemed to confirm the thought you both had. You said did - past tense. Cassian was dead. The one thing he had feared since he had shown up in your home. But despite his fear at this revelation, he doesn’t disappear, he tries to stay - for you.

So he shakes his head, “I mean I think I did,” he begins, “But I hadn’t met mine either,” he admits, his gaze falling to something in the distance as a wistful look crosses his features.

You speak up one last time, “What’s your last name?” you blurt, bringing his attention back to you, “You told me your first name, but never your last.”

A small smile graces his lips, and for the first time since he’s started appearing to you, you see him start to fade away slowly. You sit up quickly, afraid he’s going to leave again without answering your question but as he finally fades from sight, a light whisper and warm breath fans over your ear.

“Andor”

***

You sat in your garden, staring at your holopad, the information on one, Captain Cassian Jeron Andor staring back up at you. This is why you wanted his last name, to see if you could find out who he was, what he was doing here, and if you could help him. However, the more you read, the more things started to make sense, and it confirmed your fleeting thoughts since the day your soulmate had died. The fact that Cassian showed up when he did corresponded with his date of death and your soulmates, the event starting on that day you lost your other half, neither of you having met your soulmate...it all made sense now.

Cassian Andor - Rebel pilot and intelligence officer, hero of the rebellion who valiantly gave his life for the rebellion in order to save the galaxy - was your soulmate.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice appeared again.

This time you didn’t flinch, but as you looked over at him, sitting cross-legged next to you in your small garden, you couldn’t help the surprise that you felt. He looked good. Even though you had acknowledged long ago that he was handsome, you could really see it now. It looked like he had never seen battle at all, he was clean, no cuts or scrapes, clean clothes...and most shockingly, he was solid. You couldn’t see through him like before. It was like he was right here with you, and maybe, the fates were being merciful and giving you one real moment with the half you lost.

You set the holopad off to the side, opting instead to reach over to him slowly, afraid that one wrong move and you would lose him all over again. But as he met you halfway, his larger hand enveloping your much smaller one, you knew you would get this last moment with him.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell when you felt the warmth coming off of him, or the smell of blaster fire and spice that invaded your senses. You took in a shuddering breath as he pulled you into him, his own warm tears dampening your shirt as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know this is crazy,” you gasp, “But I love you Cassian Andor.”

Cassian pulled away from you at your words, cradling your face in his hands and wiping away your tears, “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, “I was selfish.”

Despite your tears, you let out a small chuckle, “I think sacrificing yourself for the good of the galaxy isn’t selfish Cassian.”

But he shakes his head, “But I didn’t even think about you - about us,” he insists.

You place one of your hands over his own that's still resting on your cheek, “What’s done is done,” you say quietly, “I still love you, no matter what.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, his eyes just dance across your features, aware that this may be the last time he gets to see you, before he’s pulling you to him, sealing his lips to yours. Your hands come up to his cheeks, resting there gently relishing in the feeling of the scruff under your fingertips. Your tears mix with his where your lips meet as you both pour all of your emotion into one single action. You can feel his hands drop from your face down to your waist griping at you desperately.

“I love you too,” the whispers against your lips, breath warm as it fans over you.

Your words come out in a whimper, “Cassian-” and you open your eyes, more tears spilling over as you are met with empty space, the smell of Gunsmoke and spice lingering in the air where he was just moments ago.

Cassian’s gone.

///

Also i know Cassian isn’t force sensitive or whatever so like technically he couldn’t appear as a ghost in canon but i just wanted angst okay xD. so please ignore that small detail.

Permanent Taglist: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @stillreadingfantasy @pedrosdoll @simonsbluee @justlovetoreadfics @discogrrl @maryan028 @asaucecoveredsomething @hiscyarika @theforceofdisney @hail-doodles @murdermewithbooks @getinthepoolkeanu @ah-callie @adikaofmandalore @fleurdemiel145 @fioccodineveautunnale @harrypotter-life2 @mandalorian-theway @spxcedxdddy @dizzydazed @readsalot73 @wickedfrsgrl @shayna-winchester @blushingwueen

Tags that expressed interest in the one-shot: @rzrcrst @ariespedro @onebatch--twobatch @fangirl-and-stuff @ginger-swag-rapunzel @treestarrrrrrrr

#cassian andor x reader #Captain cassian andor x reader #Rogue one x reader #cassian andor #rogue one #diego luna

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mar1garden · 4 years

Text

going batty part 17

masterpost

y’all mind if i *makes an uncreative akuma bc i wasted all my braincells remembering what my gi looked like with my sparring armor over it*

The moment he heard the crash, Damian was already in motion. Turning to Marinette swiftly, he blurted out a hasty excuse to allow her to transform: “I’m going to the balcony to see if I can spot Ladybug, if she’s still nearby. You check at ground level, she might be in helping civilians or something.”

He turned his back as soon as she nodded, climbing up to her balcony with practiced speed. He didn’t make a show of looking around; instead, he focused on what he could tell of the akuma from this distance. It didn’t appear to be inhumanly large, which was good. Fighting an opponent your size is almost always easier.

As he began to look more closely, maybe see if he could determine a fighting style or weaknesses from this distance, Ladybug popped up behind him. She nodded grimly to Damian, holding out a small box.

“Damian. You have proven yourself trustworthy and brave. I need your help. This is the Miraculous of the Black Cat. It has the power of Destruction. Will you use this power to assist me in this battle and return the Miraculous afterwards?”

“Of course.” Damian opens the box and a bright, glowing orb flies out and arcs in a lazy circle around him.

“Geez, Bug, not giving me any time to rest here, huh? Suit up, kid. I have a feeling my old kitten’s not going down without a fight,” Plagg drawled, coming to rest on Damian’s shoulder. “Claws out to transform, claws in to transform back, and Cataclysm to use you power. Five minute timer after you use it, then you’ll transform back automatically.”

Damian nodded resolutely, slipping the ring onto his finger. “Plagg, claws out!” A green light flashed over him, and suddenly, where before he had worn business casual clothing suitable for someone fifteen years his senior, Damian now wore a loose cotton getup with flexible armor over the top. His suit was breathable, noticeably not skin-tight, and sensibly armored. His ears weren’t the leather of his predecessor; rather, they were soft cotton with lime green stitching visible around the edges. His tail, loose and waving behind him, looked rather like a black belt.

He plucked a staff off his back, looking it over. An idea flared in his eyes, and he gripped the staff on either end as if to break it in half. He snapped it in two, and a chain formed between the two halves. He grinned, the nunchucks glowing a faint green around the top and bottom of either half. He put it back together into a staff before turning back to Ladybug.

“Alright. I think I can get the hang of it as we fight. From what I saw, he looks regular sized, but he might be deceptively powerful.” Ladybug nodded at him.

“Let’s find a closer vantage point and observe before we go in, see if we can figure out his powers or weaknesses.” The two hopped off the roof of the bakery, approaching the akuma as best they could without garnering attention.

Watching from a rooftop, Ladybug and Damian saw the akuma. He was an ashen gray, cracks showing up and down his body. He drifted along the street, not quite walking but not quite floating either. His feet bumped listlessly against the uneven road, and he flared red, growling at the ground. Molten, glowing red seeped from the cracks in his body, seething towards the stone that he had hit. It quickly melted, the spot where he had been focused clearing to reveal a singed hole.

Gasps went up from the couple civilians on the street. He looked up, gray once more, to see a woman with her arm around a taller woman, pulling her back from the akuma.

“Aww, young love. How sweet,” he crooned, his eyes beginning to darken. A faint glow grew within him. “Tell me, are you aware that you’ll inevitably break each others hearts? That you’re going to hurt each other in the worst way imaginable?” He threw his hand towards the couple and his lava began to shoot in their direction. “Love is a lie. Better to die by my hand than by hers!” he offered cheerily.

Before the lava could reach the couple, Ladybug was gone from Damian’s side. He couldn’t stop her. She dropped down in the line of fire, twirling her yoyo and stopping the lava from progressing any further. She dispelled it almost as quickly as he’d drawn it back.

“My Lady!” he chirruped with clearly false enthusiasm. “Are you here to return what is mine? Or do I need to show you how much betrayal hurts?” She growled, showing an immense amount of restraint by not having cut him in half yet- in Damian’s humble opinion, of course.

“You wanna talk betrayal, cat?” she spat at him, venom dripping from her words. “You were supposed to be my partner! You were supposed to support me and fight alongside me! Instead, you ignored battles to goof off or flirt! Do you know how many civilians died because of you, you stupid cat? Even though they came back, that pain sticks with you! Even though you didn’t directly cause their pain, you are the reason it was as bad as it was! Not to mention the sexual harassment. Do you even know the meaning of the word ‘no’, you dimwit? You put me in therapy. Not Hawkmoth, not my bullies, you. You were supposed to be the person I could trust above all else, but instead you just turned out to be another bully.”

With her every word, he had been glowing a brighter and brighter red. Damian realized too late that he had been goading her into making him angry. Just as he began to call out to her, buckets of lava spewed forth from the ex-hero’s hands.

taglist (closed): @bi-bi-papillon @fiendsangelical @copicmarkersniffers @kittycatwowmeow @fristi37 @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law@myblacknightworld @magica-est-in-aerem @sassy-spocko @noirdots @captainmac6 @meep-by-boredom @shaismall @ladybug-182 @rikku052 @wisegirlrose @corabeth11 @dramatic-squirrel @mlbchaosqueen @kristycocopop @zalladane @fertileleaf @echpr @pr-y-sha @bigpicklebananatree @simplysslytherin @nixadmos @mandy984 @bluerosette23 @jardimazul @ladylucina28 @elmokingkong @emjrabbitwolf @lozzybowe @erick-rose99-stuff @finallyaniguana @renscorpio @littleacecutie

#mlb #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #going batty #going batty wr #daminette #adrien salt #ml salt #maribat #ml marinette #ml marinette dupain cheng #ml

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thejamesoldier · 4 years

Text

Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!)

rating: explicit

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

#Every Tomorrow #thejamesoldier #my writing #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #inukag fluff #inukag smut #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #domestic bliss #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic

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moskaisley · 5 years

Text

migraine pt.3 | chronic

gif: @logan-solo

rating: mature

word count: 3k

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, fluff but also ANGST, jealous!mando aka my favorite kind

a/n: this literally took so long to write bc i basically changed the last half of this fic, but i’m rly happy with the results. there was a lot i wanted to include about life before din left, and i thought i’d put them in separate like one shots, but i figured that it would be include in the main story too. this is basically like an anime recap episode LMAO. enjoy!! thanks for the love <3

summary:

“But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives.”

When you and the Mandalorian existed in another time, another place.

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Dreams these days never really consisted of anything new. Old memories played in your head like a holovid, both the good and the bad. Tonight, they were filled with him.

In the beginning, the two of you never really acknowledged what it was.

You fucked only a few more times after the cockpit. Business always came first, of course, and sex wasn’t a regular occurrence. But when the tension (often mixed with the adrenaline of bounty hunting) became too much to handle, you were all over each other. Most of the time, you were in either of each other’s bunks, and you only did it in the cockpit when you couldn’t bother to go down the ladder. At first, you chalked it up to strictly satisfying physical needs. With the two of you in such close quarters, it only made sense. The aftermath often involved getting dressed and cleaned up in silence. There would be an occasional joke or two, but the discussion usually steered itself towards the next mission.

But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives. Your hands would linger on each other longer. He seemed to loosen up around you, joke around and indulge you in conversation. It was such a stark contrast to his menacing, stoic warrior demeanour he used when rounding up bounties.

Once, you found yourself too distracted and flustered to even spar with him.

“At this rate, you’ll never win a match against me,” he poked, legs straddling your waist as he pinned your arms down

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, irritated. He had won against you using the same move, twice.

You’d never tell him, but your eyes were definitely indulging over the build of his body, imagining the way his bare muscles flexed or his lips moved against yours.

Squirming against him, you hiss, “Off, Mando.”

He chuckles and your chest tightens. I bet his real voice sounds like heaven.

“I dunno, I think I like you like this.”

He studies you under him, helmet tilting sideways watching your chest heave up and down. A wave of heat washes over you at the thought of tearing off his mask and pulling him down for a kiss. Mando lightly laughs again and you swear you’re going to fucking lose it.

“I think you like it too.”

With all your strength, you bring your knee into the small of his back, knocking him forwards as you twist to launch him off of you. After shuffling up to stand, you spin on your heels and march away, embarrassed at how he’s got you flushed and smiling like an idiot schoolgirl.

He’s still groaning in pain when he calls to you, “Done already?”

You stumble on a witty response, “You’re the worst!”

Smooth.

You weren't the only one losing their cool. Mando became a lot more defensive of you in those days; you nearly killed him once because he kept trying to cover you from blaster fire. He even started a bar fight for you.

You hated the stares you received by virtue of being around him; traveling with him always meant that being unassuming was impossible. Normally, people would avert their eyes. If you were particularly lucky, a poor soul would try and push the Mandalorian’s buttons, not realizing they’re digging their own graves. One day, however, you’d hit the jackpot when they decided to target you.

You sat across from him in a booth, patiently waiting for the quarry to pass through; you took the side facing the door while he was turned away, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, three drunk bumbling idiots stumbled from the opposite end of the bar. Despite your stealthy gaze, one of them locked eyes with you, and when you saw his lips curl into a disgusting smile, you knew you were in for it.

The man you saw and sauntered over to your side of the chair. His friends shuffled behind him like dogs, and he practically beamed when he saw Mando, seemingly nonchalant.

“My my, Mando! You’ve got quite the catch here,” he says, undressing you with his eyes, “Where’d he buy a thing like you, baby?”

Are you fucking serious?

You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a glare in response, but remained quiet. You turn back to your view on the door, praying to Maker that he’d leave you alone. But the man didn’t let up.

Instead, he turns to your partner inquiring,

“How good of a lay is she, huh, Mandalorian? Bet she’d be a real treat for me and my boys” his men move a little closer to corner you both, “How much to take her off your hands?”

Can a girl just exist?

“I’m not for sale,” you snarl, voice tight. A dull pain begins to echo in your temples.

“So she speaks,” Your irritation only seemed to egg him on, “C'mon darlin’ let us take care of you. I promise I’m good for it.”

Your fingers were itching towards your blades, but you were still waiting on the quarry to enter the cantina. A scene would scare him away and you would lose your money and time.

Business comes first.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Mando’s voice cut through your exchange, “Get lost, she said she’s not interested.”

“Now, that’s not what we heard, was it boys?” His men laugh in agreement behind him. His eyes turn dark as he goes to place a hand on your shoulder, “The lady can speak for herself. I think we can negotia-”

A blaster shot whizzes by your ears before you can even think to fight back against him. Mando, ever the gunslinger, shoots again towards his leg, knocking him onto the floor.

And then the whole bar descends into chaos.

Drunkards pile on top of each other as tensions crescendo; the sound of a single shot has everybody up in arms. Your migraine only grows in intensity as the situation spirals out of control. To top it off, amidst the chaos, you see the quarry a few paces away. His eyes were wide watching the shitshow before him, and in a panic, he scurried back out the door.

You’d caught him eventually, but not without traversing the entire underground marketplace that stretched under the city. By the time he was in carbonite and you were both in the cockpit, your irritation boiled over.

“Are you insane, Din?” You fumed, “When did you get so careless? We nearly lost him!”

He simply looked at you as if you knew the answer, but his silence only fueled your exasperation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” you grumbled, throwing your hands in the air, “I’ll be in the refresher.”

You turned to leave, but his gloved hand suddenly gripped your upper arm, spinning you into his chest. It was then that you realized how much bigger he was, dwarfing you in his arms as he rubbed the space above your elbows.

“He was gonna touch you,” Mando’s voice was low, bordering on a growl.

Oh. The air in the room shifts dramatically.

You take a shaky breath, your voice quieting down to a whisper, “And if he did?”

The gloved hands on your arms squeeze like a vice grip. Your heart swells.

“He’d have a hole in his head.”

Your expression softens before your lips spread into a sly smile. You move as close as you can, eyes boring into the black space of his visor.

“Tell me something,” you swallow hard as you gingerly move his hands to your waist and trace your fingertips over his breastplate. Mando’s breathing is ragged through his vocoder, and you relish in his excitement. You bat your eyelashes a few times before peering up at him.

“How good of a lay am I, Mandalorian?”

His fingers dig deeper into your sides before pulling you even closer, erection already stiffening against you. He groans out a response, “Let’s find out.”

There were little things that warmed your heart, too. When you were stuck in your bunk with a migraine, he never let you get up to do anything by yourself. He brought you water and food and he took extra care in opening the door so no light was let in and he wasn’t too loud. When you could tell he was dozing off in hyperspace, you forced him to go to bed. If he was particularly stubborn, you shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and covered him with a blanket. Sometimes, if you came across a market with a few extra credits, you’d cook him a real meal, leagues better than the shitty ration packs you normally partook in.

And then, there was the first time he kissed you.

You were strolling through a bazaar before a job when you stopped at a produce stand, excitedly picking up a fuzzy white peach from the box.

“I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a teenager,” you say, bringing up it to your nose and sniffing, “They smell amazing. We should get some later.”

Much to your chagrin, the job went south that day. You were so frustrated and angry that you’d completely forgotten about it, caked in mud and grime demanding to go straight back to the Razor Crest.

Holed up in your bunk and fresh out the shower, you were clad in only a long sleeve shirt and underwear when you heard him knock. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see the fiercest hunter in the parsec standing before you with a plate of peaches from the market, sliced neatly into little wedges.

Mando sat with you on your bed as he watched you eat; you told him about how the fruit used to grow on trees in your family’s orchard in the summer. Though you acted like you were sick of them, you always ate it when you were upset. You smiled at the memory of your adolescence, silently cutting up the fruit into wedges and eating them outside during dawn, right after your first break up with some boy.

You were so caught up in the memory that you nearly jumped when Mando leaned in and took your chin in his right hand. His finger traced over the side of your lips, and your heart raced in your chest.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he uttered, “It was going to drip on your chin.”

You would’ve thought he’d lit your body on fire. Your core ached and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. When he began to pull back, it felt like instinct to grab his wrist and keep his hand near your face. You leaned into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb.

You began to crawl across your bunk to him when he stopped you, “Wait.”

Mando stood, and closed the door and shut the lights off. Darkness enveloped you both, and you called out to him, “Din?” His voice cut through the inky dark, “Can you see anything?”

You hear him shuffle, as he stands in front of you, “I dunno, can I?”

“Y/N,” he urged, impatient.

“No, Din. I can’t see.”

And then you hear the air hiss, and metal clanging to the floor. Realization hit like a meteor crash.

He took it off.

You panic immediately.

“Din, wait! What are you doi-”

You shut up the instant his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours.

And it felt delightful, better than any kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss. Your arms go to wrap around his neck, and you pull him even closer, elated at the way his soft hair feels in between your fingers. You were sure that he could taste the sweet, tangy peach on your tongue. When he pulls away for air, your face feels flushed with heat and you could feel your swollen lips.

You’re in a daze, “You kissed me.”

He laughs and you hear it. His real voice. No distortion. No modulator.

“I did.”

He does sound like an angel.

“Do it again.”

When it all broke apart, it wasn’t like the steady, dawdling way you fell in love. The break was quick and it stung worse than any migraine.

“What do you think?”

You walked around the cockpit, tracing your fingers over the controls. “Why? You thinking of an upgrade?” You shoot Mando a smile. He doesn’t seem amused, “It’s nice, I guess. Smaller, though. We already have a tough time fitting together in the Razor Crest.”

You’d been on Nevarro for a few days, having finally finished your last job. Instead of going back to the Crest, however, Mando took you to a shipyard and aboard an empty cruiser. The Slipstream’s windows were big and were much cleaner, but space was still an issue even if you and Din didn’t carry much.

You turn to him expecting a response, but he only says, “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Mando,” you reach for his shoulder, “What is this about? I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

He doesn’t stop to answer, “I said, let’s go.”

You let out a huff as you followed him out of the cockpit. Ever since you landed, Mando’s behavior had flipped like a switch. Your friendly talks had been reduced to one-sided exchanges. He’d been ignoring you, cold like the beskar he donned on his back.

“Mando!”

He kept walking down the loading ramp. His terrible attitude had made your blood simmer for a while, and now it was all boiling over.

You stomp forwards, stopping at the entrance to the hull and shout.

“Din, stop!”

And he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

You’re fuming, “What is your problem? You’ve been in a shitty mood ever since we got here and frankly I-” You’re interrupted by something flying towards you, instinct having you catch in your hands. It’s a small silver device. Code sets, for what could only be the ship you’re currently standing on.

The dots begin to chaotically connect in your head, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s the -”

“No, Din. I know what this fucking thing is,” You’re seething with panic and rage as you hold up the silver box, “I mean, what are you doing?”

He only stares up at you, the mask emotionless and frigid. The reality of the situation was crashing into you like waves; you were begging to any god that this was just a fucked up nightmare. Tears were stinging in your eyes, threatening to pool and pour over.

You hated how your voice cracked, “Answer me!”

“I’m leaving you, Y/N.”

Fuck. Hearing him say it out loud made your gut wrench.

You made an audible sob; you couldn’t control it. Shuffling to the bottom of the ramp, you’re desperate to try and connect to him, bring him back to you. The questions spill from your lips.

“Why? What did I even do? What’s wrong?” You bring your hands up, cupping the sides of his helmet. You whisper through your cries, “Din, please.”

You know. You feel it in your bones. You know he feels it too.

He gently holds your wrists, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You plead, “I know something’s wrong, you gotta let me in.”

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he chides, pulling your hands away from his helmet. Your heart feels like it’s in freefall when he turns around to continue walking.

You try to scramble forward to pull him back but to your horror, you’re met with the barrel of a blaster. The noise that roars through your ears sounds like shattering glass. You gape at him, a mixture of shock and disbelief contorting your features. The figure that stood before you was unrecognizable. Because it wasn’t Din, the soft lover who kissed you in the dark and traced words of Mando’a into your sternum. It wasn’t even Mando, the old snarky friend who joked at how bad of a shot you were and who laughs like a complete idiot when he had one too many sips.

It was the Mandalorian, the ruthless and deadly warrior poised and ready to fire you away.

You wake up smelling peaches and blaster smoke.

Shifting to sit up against the wall behind you, you groan at the dull ache in your head and heart. Mando is here with you at the foot of the bed; you’ve memorized the way the bunk feels with or without him.

“Why are the lights off?” You ask.

“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up with a headache or not.”

Of fucking course. It drives you insane how considerate he is sometimes.

You suddenly become more alert as you remember, “Aayn’vida, where is she? Is she safe?”

He quells your anxiety immediately, “She’s safe. I took her to her family.”

“And Khan?”

“Cold.”

You feel him shove pills and a bottle of water into your hands. You took them, and as you both waited for the pain in your head to subside, he told you what happened in Jaemai. As it turns out, Aayn’vida’s mother was a doctor for many years, and she was kind enough to check on you and care for your wounds. Khan’s goon nicked your right side; no major organs were hit, but your skin was likely scarred since it was basically singed off. There was another thing, however. Mando had asked her about the constant migraines, “She said that they can happen because of stress or trauma.”

You laughed bitterly, “Well, we both know I have plenty of that.”

Silence blankets you two again. Even in the dark, you can tell when the Mandalorian is uneasy. You wait for him to confess.

“If I’d known this would’ve happened, I would’ve never asked you to come with me,” he lets out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Why is he so fucking nice?

“We’ve been through worse,” you say, a familiar feeling fluttering through your chest,

“Besides, this just means I’ve rightfully earned my 80%”

#migraine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin/reader #mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fic #baby yoda #pedro pascal #MY HEART IS POUNDING

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

Text

Night Drives (Shinsou x Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Comfort, College!AU

Summary: You’re having a rough and stressful week, and Shinsou helps by taking you out for a late night trip.

Word count: 1,814

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: I know I promised angst, but I really wanted to write this little comfort/fluff piece for anyone who might be facing a mid-semester funk/depression like me. I was inspired because I went out to pick my cousin up from the airport late last night and I never realized how therapeutic night driving can be.

I also wasn’t really sure which character I wanted to write for this (bc they would all fit one way or another), but I chose Shinsou bc I haven’t written for him in a hot minute and he deserves some more love.

I hope you guys enjoy it, and I hope it helped some of you and maybe helped cheer you up 😊

I sit at my desk, hands carding through my messy hair. Pouring over my notes is the most stressful thing I could be doing this weekend, I'd rather be sleeping or doing something more relaxing. Weekends before exams are always the hardest because it's when I get my biggest chunk of studying done, so I'm usually holed up in my room the entire day.

It's also times like this when the dark thoughts roll in. I've always been a smart kid, but being in college really makes me question it. Getting low B's and high C's on exams in my major classes don't mean the end of the world, but I rethink who I think I am because of it. I still get A's in my other bullshit classes, so why am I struggling in the classes that are supposed to teach me the skills I need for my future career? Should I rethink my future? Do I even want to go into my chosen field anymore? Am I making a huge mistake being here? I'm wasting my entire scholarship money if I decide to start over from scratch. My fingers close in on my scalp.

"Kitty?"

The warmth in his voice jolts my head up. "Oh, hey." I straighten my back, not even realizing how hunched over my back was.

Shinsou's eyebrows are furrowed at me. "Are you okay?" His large thumb brushes over the wetness clinging at the corners of my eyes. "You're crying."

I tug at the sleeves of my hoodie. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He studies my face carefully, his own dark circles standing out against his pale skin. He knows how I get when I'm in this mode, staying respectful of my study habits. Since I don't come out of my room, he'll let himself in and stay in my bed, reading, sleeping, doing his own studying, or watching something on his laptop until I'm finished. Just a few moments ago when I peaked over my shoulder to see what he was doing, he'd fallen asleep with his headphones on, lightly snoring. He doesn't bother me. It's something I appreciate about him.

Shinsou crosses his arms over his chest. "When was the last time you ate?"

My stomach admittedly feels empty. I've only been snacking when I felt hungry. Looking at the clock, it's almost midnight. "Since breakfast," I answer feebly.

A sigh escapes his lips. "Are you finished now? You've been like this all day."

I cast a dreadful look over the pages of notes. There's still a few chapters I need to look over, but my brain feels that it might explode if I try to cram anymore information in. The worst part is I don't even feel like I've retained anything I've read in the past few hours. I start closing my books. "Yeah, I'm done." And utterly defeated.

Shinsou gently takes my hand in his, calling my attention to him. "Come on, go wash your face and change. We're gonna go eat."

He leaves me to go to his room and fetch his wallet. Trudging into the bathroom and following his instructions, I wash my face to wake myself up, change into some jeans, and pull on a hoodie that's more presentable for going out into the world.

Shinsou returns, changed into a pair of jeans, hoodie, and denim jacket, and we head out of our dorm building. The air isn't as cold as I thought, but it was just as deserted. The scattered lamp posts across the pavement are the only illuminations in the parking lot. I walk with my hands in my pockets and my hood up.

How the hell am I gonna learn everything by Tuesday? I despair. I hate how I always end up thinking about work even when I don't want to.

Shinsou closes the distance between us and snakes his arm around my torso. "Have you ever considered getting a hoodie with cat ears on them?" he asked casually.

I'm thrown off by his random question, but I have to laugh. "Uh, no? Why would I wear it?"

"So I can pull at the ears, duh."

"You and your cat addiction needs to chill." I want to shove him away, but his warmth feels great to touch. "Where are we going?"

"Noodles?" he offers. "It's been getting pretty cold."

"Is it wrong that I want something...filling right now. And no, get your mind out of the gutter!" I shove Shinsou before he can say anything.

"I wasn't even thinking it, who actually has the dirty mind, hm?" He pokes the side of my head.

After I'm done pouting at him, I suggest, "Do you think there's a tempura place open around here? Actually, I just really want fries and something else."

"Anything else, your royal highness?" he smirks and unlocks his car.

"Mmm," I hum as I settle into his passenger seat. "A pet dragon would be nice too. Or full payment on my college education."

Shinsou chuckles at my sarcasm. "Anything for you, kitty." Holding my hand, he kisses my palm before starting the engine.

As he drives down the abandoned road, I lean my head against the window, staring out the windshield. The sky's already black, but there's too much light and the car's moving too fast to count the stars. Something about the emptiness of everything at night calms me down. It almost feels like Shinsou and I are the only 2 people in the world at this hour. Even the parking lot of the fast food joint down the block is deserted.

"I'll get it to go so we can eat in here, what do you want?" my purple haired prince asks me sweetly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"10 piece nuggets and medium fries. And a diet soda, I'm watching my calories." I whisper the last part.

"Coming right up."

"Are you sure it's okay to eat in your car?" I ask, tentatively opening the paper bag of food goodness. I didn't realize how hungry I was until the smell of high calorie fast food wafts in front of my nose.

Shinsou's eyes are on the road as he drives down the roadway. "Yeah I don't care, it's not like my car's new or anything."

I dip into the bag and grab my box of nuggets. A smile graces my face when I notice he remembered the sweet and sour sauce. "Why are you so good to me?"

"Because you're my kitty and I love you," he answers without missing a beat, his large hand messing up my hair.

A familiar fuzzy warmth fills me as I lean into his touch. Digging into my nuggets, I end up completely demolishing them, the hole in my stomach finally filling at the process meat. I don't care how old I get, I will always have chicken nuggets at fast food restaurants. Every once in a while, Shinsou would ask for one of my fries, and I'd happily feed him.

I have no idea where we're going; for some reason, we're on the highway. I just quietly finish my meal and sip my drink.

Shinou's eyes glint with mischief. "Since we're alone on the highway..."

My eyes widen. "Babe, no-!"

The engine revs to life under my boyfriend's lead foot and the car jolts forward. I clutch my fries and almost choke on my soda as we speed down the highway. The biggest grin spreads across his face.

"Hitoshi, I'm not ready to die!"

He takes his foot off the gas and the car relaxes, as does my heart. But he knows how much I secretly love it when he does that. "At least wait until I'm not about to choke before you do that!"

Laughing at me, he passes me his phone. "Play whatever you want, kitty."

Oh, it's over now.

I select a playlist of hype songs we both love, belting out the lyrics from the top of our lungs as Shinsou speeds down the highway. A mess of screams, laughter, loud music, and singing fill the entire space as we zip past all the lights on the highway. It reminds of what it might feel like rocketing through space. The pit of my stomach feels weightless from the excitement and the speeding car.

Are we crazy? Maybe. Did I savor every second of it? Absolutely.

Shinsou finally slows down and exits down a beach. Pulling into an empty space, he parks the car and gets out, waving for me to follow him. We end up sitting on the hood of his car, eating our food under a blanket he keeps in his car. A nearby streetlight dimly illuminates our dark space.

I snuggle Shinsou's left arm and look out into the dark expanse. I can finally count the stars, between stealing bites from Shinsou's burger. Clutching my end of the blanket over me, I lay my head on his shoulder. "It's so strange sitting on the hood of a car."

"Guess you've never done it before," he replies quietly, balling up his empty wrapper and placing it back in the bag. Both arms wrap around me, resting his head on top of mine. "I used to come here when I wanted to clear my mind. There's just a whole lot of nothing and silence."

I can't agree more. The darkness - the absence of light - makes everything seem quiet and empty. Something about it feels liberating, letting all my emotions flow out in front of me freely and let me just be. A breathe in and let it rattle out of me. The endless void surrounds us, isolates us, encloses us so our thoughts can't bother us.

Shinsou brings me closer, letting me sit halfway on his lap, placing a gentle kiss on my temple. "Are you feeling better, kitty? I know you're pretty stressed, more so than your usual anxious self. I figured bringing you out here would help somewhat."

My heart swells with warmth. I hug him tighter and close my eyes, leaning my head to his chest. "Thank you, Hitoshi. You've done a lot for me, I really appreciate it. You really went out of your way for me."

"Nothing's out of my way for you." His large hand rubs my scalp. "You work so hard, you deserve this."

I snuggle deeper into his chest, my eyes slowly closing as the rhythm of his heartbeat calms me. "What did I do to deserve you?" I mumble.

"Well, maybe you saved an entire country," he jokes, pressing another kiss into the top of my head and running his fingers lightly on the back of my head, "But I think you just being perfect deserves all the happiness I can give you."

"You're too sweet." I drift off to a light sleep in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, choosing to think about life some other time.

#Shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #college!AU #shinsou fluff #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenario #gender neutral reader #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Firsts / #7 “The First Gingerbread House”

---> NEXT BLURB: The last blurb of The Firsts is most likely coming tomorrow, 12-16!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

and i’m too lazy for italics bc tumblr ignores formatting that i do in Docs so sorry i give up

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 2.9k words - a fun extra blurb c:

SONG: Thank God It’s Christmas by Queen (click to listen)

“The secret of our success is that we never, never give up.”

- Wilma Mankiller

The smell wafting under the door was the first thing I registered when I woke up the next morning. Christmas music and its splendid sounds were what followed, until my sadness ran away with that moment of respite.

He was gone. He’d left me. Harry had abandoned me.

Those thoughts filled the sleepy holes in my head once again. Well, until I felt a movement in the bed behind me, and my eyes shot open. The room was devoid of any light, my Christmas tree long ago thrown in my closet after I read that note. It’s all but forgotten when I turn around and I remember. The snoring man under my covers whose feet rest against mine makes it all come back to me, tear by tear. Am I dreaming still? Not unless that pretend world of mine remembers the scar above his eye, the one right under the curve of his chin, or the way his eyelids flutter while he’s dreaming. Already hiccuping, I close the distance between us and throw my arms around him.

“Mmmm,” he groans, slowly reciprocating the action like muscle memory. The crook of his neck is warmer than usual from sleep, and somehow, it smells even better than before. His woodsy vanilla scent remains as I paint his neck with my tears. “Becks . . What’s tha matter, baby?” Harry’s rasped words coast over my head. The ‘baby’ gets me right away, and the sob only deepens at how that’s his immediate response.

“It wasn’t a dream,” I weep into his t-shirt, clinging onto him and never wanting to let him go.

“No, ‘m here, Becks, ‘m here. ‘m not goin’ anywhere, not ever again, I promise you that. Now, go back t’ sleep, bug, ‘s only seven . . We don’t hafta be t’ me mum’s ‘til three, and me sleep ‘s all messed up.”

My head nods along with his words as his arms tighten around me, and my tears ebb. Sniffling, I feel them stubbornly stay and crash onto his skin with each shake of my chest.

“You promise?” the words are choked and fear sits in them.

“I promise, Rebecca Ann, and ‘ll never ever break this one t’ you, I mean it.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Styles,” it’s a half assed attempt at a laugh with my words, but it’s better than nothing.

“Breathe, baby, and try t’ sleep. I know you didn’t get much tha last couple o’ days.”

My head moves around until it finds that special spot, and in the midst of it, I think of the other night when I couldn’t sleep. He was all I could think about, per usual, and Skye’s yelling didn’t help. I couldn’t tell who she was talking to, and I just assumed that her and her boyfriend were having a row on the phone. Now that I think of it, I came home from work almost every night to her on the phone, and she would angrily hang up. She was there for me, but she was secretive too, and I couldn’t understand why. Until now.

“Skye told you?”

“Ya,” his answer is just as quiet and slow as mine. I want to be angry and upset at the both of them, but I had spent so much of my life the last few years being mad at him that I couldn’t fathom another unnecessary second of it. “I left t’ spare you tha hurt, but there wasn’t a moment that I stopped thinkin’ and worryin’ ‘bout you, bug. She was pissed at me, so much so I wasn’t sure if she’d let me in last night when I came . . but she did. She said you would’ve killed her if she hadn’t, which I believe . . I had t’ check on you and make sure you were okay, and she was tha one closest t’ you, even if she spent each phone call cursin’ at me.”

“But I wasn’t, how could I be after that, Harry? You disappeared on me and fell off the face of the earth. I’d never been so scared, not knowing if you were okay, or if I’d ever see you again. Y-You can’t do that again to me, we’re a team, you’ve said it yourself. We’ve talked about getting married one day, you’re my best friend a-and-,” he cuts me off before the tears do, threatening to push me over the edge that I don’t know if I can bring myself back from.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, and ‘m so sorry. ‘ll never stop apologizin’, Becks, never. I realized too late what I did was so foolish and how terribly I hurt you. I thought I was savin’ you from mo’ pain when really I was jus’ givin’ you mo’,” he sighs, and the misery in his words almost makes me want to stop him from going on. Although it had only been a few days, it felt longer with our recent breakup, like it was all a ball of pain rolled into one. Months of just wanting him to be happy again, more so now after I thought things were okay again, and then he left. “Trust me, ‘m not gonna fook things up again. ‘m rather sure n’body would lemme anyways, not My’ or Skye or me mum. They’re all jus’ as pissed at me fer what I did, and I won’t ever do it again. I love you so much, Rebecca Ann, and I won’t ever f’get that. When things get tough, I know that’s what I need t’ rememba - that and how much you always love me.”

“I tried to stop loving you, but I couldn’t . . I can’t.”

“And neither could I, love, ‘d never want t’,” he murmurs. He begins to hum our song and then it spills from his lips. At last, I find the sound of his heartbeat, and my breathing begins to slow. Once he’s a few lines in and his hands are carding through my hair, I give in to the sleep, knowing that he’ll be there when I wake up.

“Our first Christmas t’getha,” Harry rasps later on as I rub at my eyes. I make the mistake of opening them and am blinded by the light that pours in from my poorly drawn shades. His giggle tickles at my ears when I nuzzle my head back into his chest.

“First of many,” I mumble in between the folds of his t-shirt, finally feeling around and noticing the absence of his flannel. “Where did your flannel go last night?”

“Where d’ya think it went, Ms. Heater? Bloody hell, ‘s stiflin’ in yer bedroom, y’know that? ‘Least put onna fan or sumthin’, I fookin’ overheated last night. At least at mine, I know t’ turn tha heat down at night ‘cos you do it all fer me,” Harry nearly scoffs, but the humor in his voice is contagious.

“Is that what happened with your pants too?”

“Ya, and skinny jeans aren’t comfy t’ sleep in,” he remarks. I feel his body move as my hand goes under his shirt, feeling his toned stomach. Without knowing it, it wanders down and to the front of his underwear. “Hey, mind that hand o’ yers, woman.”

“You know I just like to feel it sometimes,” is all I say as I palm at his crotch, hearing his groan.

“Ya, well now yer gonna make me hard, and ‘d rather not be when ‘m textin’ me sista. God, ‘s she mad at me.”

I don’t mean to giggle, but I find it difficult to resist, and even more so when Harry is groaning at me.

“‘s a good thing yer cute, and so are yer li’l snorts,” he says, shaking his head at me when I at last rest my chin on his chest to look up at him.

“Aren’t you a little old to be wearing skinny jeans? You’re almost thirty-one, Harry.”

“Hush,” he tuts, slipping his tongue out to swipe over his lips. His lips remain parted before he bites at his bottom one when his thumbs flit across the screen of his phone. “Stop bein’ mean t’ me, ‘m tired.”

Another laugh slips out and his head is shaking furiously as I feel his dick harden underneath my hand.

“Rebecca Ann, get yer hand away from me dick, or else.”

“Or what?” I say, fully aware of what I’m doing to him, and so is he.

“Woman,” it comes out as a perturbed sigh from him, but it’s all but ignored as I get on all fours. He doesn’t acknowledge the way that I climb up his body with kisses pressed up his scratchy neck. “What d’ya think yer doin’?”

“What, can’t I kiss my boyfriend?” I tease, threading my way through his arms. His neck smells amazing when I lay down on top of him, wheezing at the ‘ooof’ he makes.

He hums an approval while his phone makes small noises every time he types a letter. A smile warms my face as I cozy my face into his neck, needing to make up for lost time as I think of how he didn’t even react or protest when I plopped down on him. He wrapped his arms around me and hooked his chin over my shoulder and carried on, as if normal.

“Hey, look who’s callin’ me,” Harry notes, his voice still crackly from sleep. “Hullo? Hi, Harper, how’re you, darlin’?” in seconds, his voice drips of honey for his other favorite girl in the world, filling my heart. “Ya wanna talk t’ Anty Becky? ‘Kay, ‘ll put you on speaker so you can talk t’ us both.”

“Best get ready, somebody may have missed you mo’ than me,” he grins at me as we stop in front of a door decorated with a festive wreath. “Didn’t know that was possible.”

The door opens within moments, and a small girl with honey colored hair stands in front of us.

“Anty Becky! Unky Harry!” she exclaims, her adorable pin striped apron billowing around her when she runs forward to wrap her arms around our legs.

“Hiya, sweets. How’re you?” Harry coos, bending down to scoop her into his arms. If I wasn’t melting already, I sure am now. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas! I missed you!” she whines, resting her head on Harry’s chest as he hugs her back. Goddammit, my ovaries better calm the fuck down. “And I missed you, Anty Becky!” Harper squeals when she lets up and reaches her arms out for me. I take the little girl in my arms and Harry ushers us into the house and out of the cold.

“How are you, love?” I ask her, combing her hair out of her darling brown eyes.

“Good. You’re both early, yay!” she announces, pulling on my hand and Harry’s when I let her down. We share hello’s with Gemma, her husband, and the walking and talking Ollie.

“Mum not here yet?” I hear Harry ask his sister who replies with a curt ‘no.’ “Seems ‘m still in tha doghouse with her.”

“What’s a doghouse?” Harper asks when she stops, seeing as how we’ve reached our destination. The kitchen table prepared with our supplies awaits us, and I get the message when I see the look Gemma gives Harry.

“Don’t worry, love. So, I hear we’re makin’ gingerbread houses t’day?”

“Yep! Mummy said you’re really good at making them,” Harry’s young niece says. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when I meet them, but he still cracks a laugh.

“I s’pose I am, or accordin’ t’ yer mummy, I am.”

“Yay, I’ve wanted to make one for so long, and mummy said we could today since Christmas dinner isn’t for a few hours,” she answers, and it only continues to surprise me how much she’s grown since I first met her.

“How’s school going, Harp?” my question finds a place in between her meticulous watching of Harry taking out the gingerbread pieces from the zipped baggy.

“Good, I know all of my ABC’s now, Anty Becky,” she answers, but her attention couldn’t be further from me.

Her eyes widen when her uncle takes off the lids to the frosting her and Gemma had prepared. My hand goes to my mouth when she tells Harry to be careful with the sprinkles container he opens. The organ that thumps away in my chest metaphorically swells at the sound of how she says his name. Hair-wee. It only drives my ovaries a bit more nuts at the sound, and I mistakenly think about our kids calling him that, and the beloved Daddy, of course.

“‘Kay, here’s tha pieces t’ yer house, Harpy. Now, we can’t eat all o’ tha frostin’,” Harry tells her as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. Swoon.

“Do you want some, Unky Hair-wee?” she offers, sticking her finger into the pink frosting and holding it out to him. He shakes his head at her offer, but when she isn’t looking, he swipes some for eating. “Hey, you said we can’t eat it all!”

“I didn’t, I only had a touch, love.”

“No lying, Unky Hair-wee!” she says with a wag of her finger at him, and soon, we’re all laughing but her. “Becky, Hair-wee is being naughty.” “Oh no. What should we do about it, love?” I find it harder to pose my question in a serious tone than I thought it would be. She hums a sound like she’s thinking, and I giggle under my breath when Harry picks her hand out of the bowl of gum drops.

“He gets coal for Christmas,” she mutters, her small face squished with upset as Harry assembles the first two walls of her house.

“‘m not gonna help you with yer house if yer not gonna be nice, Harp, but we won’t have anythin’ t’ decorate our house with if we eat all o’ our sweets,” he tells her gingerly, giving me an alarmed look when I find his eyes. Shaking his head, he picks up the piping bag and continues to put the walls together.

Huffing, she pulls her hand back from the small plate of chocolate chips, placing them in her lap. Pulling my eyes away from my half assembled house, I watch her observe Harry and his craftsmanship. I don’t have to look very hard to see the similarities between the two. First off, oh my god with the stubbornness. Then, there’s the love of sweets and chocolate, to no surprise. Her hair curls at the ends beautifully, and deep dimples sit in her cheeks when they move. Although she’s a spitting image of her mother, when I see young pictures of Harry, I see Harper in them too.

Resting my chin on my hand, I lose myself in watching him with her, knowing he’d be just as sweet, if not more, with his own babies. God, I need to get a grip.

“Why’s it not working?” Harper whines ten minutes later when one of the walls of her gingerbread house falls down.

“It jus’ needs mo’ frostin’, sweets. I didn’t do a very good job with that one, ‘m afraid. Here, why don’t you keep decoratin’ tha other sides while I fix it, ya?”

“Mmmmkay,” she sighs, picking up a small red cinnamon flavored candy to continue framing the door. Her pudgy, little fingers are careful and slow, and it makes me smile. “Yours looks cute, Anty Becky,” she comments and when I look over at her, she’s giving Harry a dirty look. He lifts his eyes with his face torn between being upset and trying not to laugh, asking me with his eyes, ‘did you see that?’

“Thanks, Harp, and so does yours. You and Harry are doing a good job.”

“Not good enough,” it’s a mutter under her breath, but I hear it. I clear my throat as I continue to press peppermint twist candies onto a wall of my gingerbread house.

“Hey, li’l miss, watch tha li’l attitude,” Harry warns with a raise of his eyebrows. He drops the piping bag after the house is all reassembled and dances his fingers across her ribs until she’s squealing from laughter. “Huh, what was that? Did I jus’ hear you say, ‘’m sorry, Unky Hair-wee, I love our gingerbread house so much! Yer tha best unky in da world, I love you so much!’”

“No,” she giggles, and by now, my gingerbread house is forgotten as I watch the two with their dimples adorning their laughs. “I didn’t say that! I don’t love you, you’re all stinky and mean!”

“Am not!” Harry scoffs, picking her up from her chair and holding her upside down. Her laughs continue loudly as he tickles under her arms and in the crook of her neck, tossing her onto the sofa in the nearby living room.

“Are too!” she fights back, kicking at him as he towers over her, sending chuckles from her lips. “I like Anty Becky better!”

Harry gasps at her proclamation and now, I’m laughing along with her. He looks over to me and I don’t think he could be smiling bigger. “Ya like this?”

“Mmmhmm, you’re so cute together. You’re gonna make such a good daddy one day,” I muse aloud, surprising myself with the confession. It only makes his dimples bigger in his cheeks, and I can’t tell if they’re reddening from the tickling or from my words.

God, I couldn’t have picked a better man to be a daddy to my babies one day.

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cathwritestragediesnotsins · 5 years

Text

Wanted you

Daryl x Plus size!reader (mentioned briefly)

word count: 4,330

Warnings: injury, cursing, Carl is an adorable lil sheriff man.

GIFS NOT MINE, I just gathered them from the world wide interweb.

Summary: Y/N is injured on a run and Daryl worries about her. Later Daryl gets jealous when he thinks he hears Y/N talking about another guy. (crappy summary bc tbh this story did not go where I thought it was gonna.)

________________________________________________________________

To say I was stuck between a rock and a hard place would definitely be an understatement.

I had ducked into a building-an old diner- just down the street to shield myself from the hailstorm of bullets coming from snipers set up on top of almost every building on main street.

Only to discover that building was very much overrun. I must’ve had about 17 walkers coming at me from all directions. I was worn out and bleeding out of a bullet wound to my left shoulder so it was very clear I wasn’t going to make it out of this one.

That, however, didn’t mean I was going to go down easy.

I pull out my knife and plunge it into the head of the nearest walker which gives me a few precious seconds to reload my gun. Once I’ve put in a new clip I start popping off rounds as fast as I can, taking out as many walkers as possible while making my way toward the counter situated near the back. My shoulder screams in protest to every movement and I’m starting to feel light headed but I press on.

I have to make it back. I have to make it back. I have to make it back. I have to make it back. I have to make it back.

I repeat this mantra over and over again in my head. Its the only thing keeping me conscious right now.

I reach the bar and shove myself over it to put something between the vicious hoards of biters that’re on my tail. There’s 9 left which would normally be a bit more manageable but not with the way my vision is starting to black out around the edges.

I shake my head to refocus and wipe the sweat off my brow before raising my gun again.

The room finally blurs out just as I’m about to pull the trigger.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Damn it” Daryl mutters to himself as he crouches down behind an old barrel situated toward the end of the street.

His ammo is running low, he can’t move without getting hit by the snipers, and he’s lost track of Y/N. He knew he shouldn’t have brought her along on this run.

He glances around frantically and decides to make his way into the closest building and hope it’s clear. He’s a sitting duck otherwise.

The archer takes a moment to hype himself up, inhaling and exhaling deeply, jumping in place a bit before he bolts.

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM.

The sounds of guns firing goes wild as soon as he steps out from his hiding spot and even though it only takes Daryl a few seconds to reach his target it feels like an eternity as he waits for the feeling of lead, ripping and tearing through him.

He’s honestly more surprised than he’d like to admit when he makes it to his destination unscathed.

The door slams behind him, drawing the attention of several walkers crowded at the back of the building. He takes a couple shots before his guns clicks, signalling it’s empty. He shoves the useless weapon into his belt and whips the crossbow from where it had been slung across his shoulder blades. He picks off the walkers one by one, taking out the closest ones first so as to be able to retrieve his arrows.

He made quick work of the walkers and then started toward the back to see if there was a second way out, hoping he could sneak to the next building over to look for Y/N. He paused at the door to the kitchen to swing it open just a bit and make sure it was clear.

Just as he was about to step through the doorway he heard snarling and moaning. A familiar sound. A warning. A walker. He recoiled away from the door and put his back to the wall, scanning the room, trying to find the source of the noise. He could hear a scratching noise and something dragging against wood. It became clear that the commotion was coming from behind the bar so he crept over, quickly, bow at the ready.

When he rounds the corner he has a clear line of sight of a walker with it’s bottom half hacked off, scratching and clawing it’s way toward a body, lying on the floor in a small puddle of fresh blood.

Y/N

Daryl quickly puts an arrow in the head of the geek making it’s way toward you and steps over it to crouch down next to you, checking your pulse. He breathes a sigh of relief when he can feel the thumping of your blood rushing through your veins, but it’s barely there which concerns him. He rips off your outer shirt so he can get a better look at the wound and winces. It’s bad. He bunches up the material in his hands and presses it to the bullet hole in an attempt to slow down the bleeding. Daryl glances around wildly, searching for anything useful but he comes up empty. He knows it’s just a matter of time before the shooters come down from their perches and burst in this place, guns blazing.

He’s not too keen on moving you in your condition but he also knows he can’t take on that entire group of survivors by himself. He grits his jaw in determination, knowing that he really only has the one option.

Quickly, he pulls the belt off from around his waist and uses it to secure the shirt to your chest, keeping pressure on the entry point.

Then he swings his crossbow back over his torso and picks up your limp body bridal style. He makes his way toward the kitchen, with renewed urgency, wary of any walkers that might be lurking around, and locates the back door. He kicks it open, breaking the door jamb, and steps out into the day. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright sun. Then he’s off, running into the treeline located some 40 yards away, looking for some type of cover. It’s a risky move. He’s exposed, out in the open with no way to defend himself. But it’s your best option at the moment so he does it without batting an eye.

His heart is pounding in his ears as he runs across the empty space, holding you close to his chest. And then the shots ring out, shattering the silence. Daryl surges forward even faster, moving as fast as his legs can possible carry him. As soon as he is a good distance into the tree line he sets you down and pulls out his gun, shoving in a new magazine and taking out any of the shooters who try to get too close.

“C’mon, c’mon!” he grunts as he continues to engage in the fire fight. He’s on his last magazine. Daryl takes more care to aim and shoot only when he’s sure he’s got the target pinned down; but there are too many of them.

Suddenly he hears the squealing of tires and a familiar silver truck comes careening around the corner of one of the buildings. Daryl lets a relieved smile catch on his lips when he sees Sasha, Rick, Carol and Glenn standing in the bed of the truck, opening fire on his assailants. Rick is popping off rounds like a man of fire and the others follow his lead.

Maggie jolts the truck to a stop at the treeline and shouts out the passenger window, “Get in!”

Daryl wastes no time in putting away his weapon and carrying you toward the car. Maggie reaches back and throws open the door to the backseat and Daryl jumps in as quickly as possible while still holding you in his arms. Before the door was even closed Daryl was already shouting “Go! Go!”

“Hang on!” Maggie warned the guys in the back before speeding on out of there, leaving the marauders in their dust. Glenn, Carol, Sasha and Rick all whooped and high-fived, celebrating a mission well done.

Daryl looks down at you, your head laid in his lap. He knows you’re not out of the woods yet, you lost a lot of blood. “How is she?” Maggie asks, seeing Daryl’s concerned face in the rear view mirror. “Not good.” Daryl mumbles, “she needs blood as soon as possible” Maggie nods in understanding, turns her gaze back to the road, grits her jaw in determination and punches the gas. “We’re gonna make it” she states, as if there’s no question.

Daryl lays his head against the window, watching the blur of scenery go by.

He hopes she’s right.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When I wake up I’m laying on my cot back in the prison. I sit up quickly and immediately cringe at the pain from my gunshot wound. “Woah woah woah!” a voice chastises and then Hershel appears beside me, pushing me to lie back down. “You’ll pull out your drip!” When I resist he huffs in annoyance.

“Where’s Daryl? Is he ok?” I ask, concern lacing my tone.

Hershel rolls his eyes and walks toward the cell door, leaning out and calling, “Daryl, she’s awake. She wants to see you.”

I hear heavy footsteps and then Hershel gives me a look before stepping out of the doorway to meet Daryl. They exchange a few hushed words and then Daryl steps into the room and the vet disappears down the hall. I situate myself to sit up against the headboard and once again wince as I forget to compensate for my left side. Daryl takes a step forward in concern but I wave him off.

“How do you feel?” the archer asks, taking a seat on the stool next to my bed. “Never better” I joke and Daryl rolls his eyes but I see an amused smile tug at his lips.

“How about you? Are you hurt?” I question, scanning over his body, looking for any obvious signs of trauma. He shakes his head, his jagged hair swishing around at the movement. “Naw, jus’ had some close calls is all.” he dismisses. I nod, not outwardly showing the relief that I actually feel.

“So, what happened? I thought I was done for for sure when I passed out in that room full of walkers.”

Daryl huffs out a quiet laugh with no real humor to it. “Yeah, thankfully I got there just in time. Took out the walkers and then found you behind the bar.” he explains. My eyes widen slightly and anxiety crawls through me, “You didn’t have to carry me all the way here did you?” I question nervously. I am definitely not the skinniest girl in the world. To be blunt...I’m fat. It doesn’t bother me anymore; I love myself and the way I look but this....this was different. I inwardly cringe at the thought of Daryl struggling to carry me all the way back to the prison.

Daryl cocks his head, giving me a weird look. He must’ve caught on to my discomfort. I double my efforts to appear normal.

“No, I carried you to the woods behind the building and then Rick and a group came and picked us up in the truck.”

“Oh. Ok.”

I was slightly relieved but also slightly mortified that Daryl had still had to carry me at all.

“Thank you.” I mumble quietly, looking at my hands, fidgeting with the bandanna wrapped around my wrist.

When I look up, Daryl ducks his head, looking back up at me through the ends of his hair. “No problem. ‘M just glad we got back in time.” he says, gesturing toward the bag of blood hanging from the top bunk and the tube attaching it to me.

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, neither of us knowing what to say. I am so embarrassed that I can barely look at him and yet at the same time I just want him near me; want him to stay. I wrack my head for anything to say to break the silence.

He stands up suddenly from the stool and fidgets awkwardly.

“Well, I’d uh, better get going. I’m on watch soon.”

“Oh, ok.” I say, not being able to help the smallest bit of disappointment from staining my voice. “Would you mind sending Beth in here to keep me company?” I request, already bored at the idea of having to stay in this tiny room by myself for the next week or so. Daryl nods and starts quickly toward the door.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daryl had hardly been to see me after that while I was recovering and everyone else was really busy so I was bored out of my mind every day that Hershel fussed at me to stay in bed. As soon as I didn’t feel like I’d pass out when I wore myself out I was up and about- though Hershel insisted I wear a sling.

Carl became by self-appointed body guard since I was unable to defend myself well at the moment so he now followed me nearly everywhere. I loved the kid and we had always been close but he was starting to drive me a bit insane.

“Carl, it’s fine, I’m just going to go for a walk.” I say, rolling my eyes as I fight with a 14 year old about leaving the building.

“Yeah but you should at least stay inside the fences. It’s not safe for you to be out there on your own!” he argues, keeping pace with me as I march toward the gate.

“What if you get caught off guard by a group?”

“I can still shoot a gun Carl, I’m not completely useless.”

“Yeah but you can’t reload it.” he retorts. I give him a look and he drops the snark. “C’mon, just let me come with you.”

“No, Carl. I need some time to myself.” I say firmly, coming to a stop in front of the gate. “So, you gonna help me open this or what?” I ask, gesturing toward the pulley system that controls the gateway. Just then I hear a gruff voice behind me.

“Whas’ going on here?” Daryl questions.

I turn, “Carl, won’t let me leave.” I complain. Daryl’s eyes shifted over to the lanky brown-haired boy under the sheriff’s hat.

“She shouldn’t be going outside the gates on her own!” he argues, voice tense with frustration.

Daryl’s gaze returns to me. “Kid’s right.” he mumbled, chewing on his lip subconsciously. I pretend I don’t notice every time he does that.

“Daryl...” I whine. “I just need some freaking space! I’ve been cooped up inside this place for too long!”

Daryl hums in thought as he continues to chew on his lower lip for a moment. “Guess you could come with me. ’M about to go huntin’” he grunts.

I raise my eyebrows and turn to look at Carl hopefully. “Is that good enough for you Sheriff?” I ask, using my playful nickname for the Grimes boy.

He rolls his eyes and waves his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah whatever, that’s fine.” he huffs. He places his hand on the holster by his side and looks to Daryl, “just keep an eye on her.”

I scoff. “You know I’m the adult here right?” I sass. Carl just smirks before turning and loping away back to the prison. I roll my eyes. “That kid is crazy.”

Daryl huffs out a bit of a laugh, “Yeah, just like his old man.”

I laugh breezily and nod in agreement, watching Carl walk away.

“’M gonna go tell Rick we’re leaving and then we can go. Wait here.” Daryl instructs abruptly before stalking away toward the garden where Rick is harvesting the literal fruits of his labor. A small smile crosses my face. I’m glad Rick is getting to have this time of peace. He deserves it.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says behind me. I turn and smile at Michonne. “Hey. What’s up?”

The woman leans to my left a bit to look over my shoulder at Daryl and then looks back to me expectantly. “You tell me.”

I roll my eyes. “Stop.” I say in mock annoyance. Michonne pouts her lush lips at me. “When are you going to tell him?” she pesters. “I’m not!” I defend “For the billionth time Michonne, Daryl doesn’t think of me like that and I am not going to risk our friendship, ok?” It’s Michonne’s turn to roll her eyes at me. “When are you and Rick going to stop playing games and get together already?” I question, diverting her attention. She gives me a deadpan look which I return pointedly. I am just as stubborn as her, if not more so.

“Don’t try and change the subject” she says suddenly and I curse under my breath at my failed attempt. “You’re going hunting with him right?”

I nod hesitantly, unsure as to where she’s going with this.

“Good. It would be the perfect time to tell him!” she points out.

“No.”

“Oh c’mon Y/N! He obviously wants you too!”

“No!”

“At least think about it!” she pleads.

“Think about what?” Daryl says, suddenly right next to me. I jump a bit, startled. “Nothing.” I dismiss quickly, silently praying that Michonne will keep her mouth shut. I turn to Daryl, “You ready to go?” I ask. He nods, looking between Michonne and I with his eyes narrowed in curiosity.

“Alright then, let’s go. Michonne can you open the gate please?” I say, widening my eyes at her in a wordless warning to not say anything stupid. She rolls her eyes, “Yeah sure. But think about what I said.” she says, seriously before turning and marching toward the pulley system, tugging down the rope so the gate opened just enough for Daryl and I to slip out.

We sprint across the clearing around the prison and duck into the woods as quickly as we can, taking out any biters that get too close. Once we’ve put some distance between us and the clearing Daryl walks forward a few paces, eyes trained on the forest floor, searching for any trace of wildlife. I stay closer to the treeline, keeping watch while Daryl gets his bearings. Once I’m sure the coast is clear I walk over to where the hunter is crouched, looking at the muddy ground over his shoulder. “Find anything?” I question. He grunts, “Maybe.” and then stands up.

He starts walking farther into the woods and I follow loosely, enjoying being out of the confines of the prison for the first time in 2 weeks. There are birds swooping and playing around in the treetops and I lean my head back to watch them.

That was probably one of the things I missed most about before, the peace. I mean, of course I miss coffee and wifi and stuff but really, all of that you can live without. But peace, a feeling of safety, is irreplaceable. It’s not something I experience a lot these days but right now, outside, with the breeze playing in my hair and Daryl there to protect me, I feel safe. My eyes shine, smiling all on their own as they dance with the movements of the birds above head.

“So,” Daryl says, clearing his throat, interrupting the silence. I tip my head forward again to look at his back as he continues tracking. “You and Jamie huh?” he asks quietly. I cock my head to the side in confusion. “What?”

Daryl stops and shifts awkwardly, lowering his crossbow from where he had had it positioned just under his chin. “I heard you and Michonne talking about ‘im. You ain’t exactly subtle about having a thing for the guy.” Daryl says. I don’t miss the slight aggression in his voice.

Jamie was one of the new recruits we had picked up. Rick and a group that I happened to be part of had found him squatting in a storeroom at the back of a convenience store. I admit that Jamie is an attractive guy, ropey muscles, dark, curly hair and playful eyes. But even when he had attached himself to me his first couple of weeks at the prison I hadn’t given him a second glance, too enamored by Daryl to even consider something with Jamie. Once he got the message I wasn’t interested he and I had become friends, often ending up on watch together.

I scoff at the idea of me liking Jamie. “Yeah, um, no. Jamie is just a friend. He’s a nice guy and all but not my type.” I dismiss, shaking my head.

Daryl shoots me an unbelieving look over his shoulder.

“Seriously,” I defend, “I don’t like him like that.” I pause for a moment and then throw in offhandedly, “I prefer guys who are a bit more headstrong; independent.”

Daryl’s steps falter for just a second and I feel a flash of panic jolt through me, thinking maybe he caught on to my little hint. I stop too, still a few paces behind him and try to control my suddenly shaky breathing.

“I think I lost the trail.” he mumbles finally and I let out a relieved breath before my eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Daryl never loses a trail.

“Are you alright?”

“’M fine.” he snaps, starting forward again.

“Psh, yeah sure. That was convincing.” I sass back. When he doesn’t say anything else I jog to catch up with him, grabbing his arm to pull him to a stop.

“Seriously, what’s up?” I question, ducking my head to catch his gaze when he looks down.

“Nothin’, get off me woman!” he bites but it’s half-hearted. I give him a look, paying no mind to his rude behavior “Daryl, c’mon, just tell me what’s bothering you.” I press, my voice tinged with concern.

“NOTHIN’!” he shouts, yanking his arm away from my grasp. “Just leave me the fuck alone and go back to your damn boyfriend!”

I flinch at first but then my face scrunches in anger and I roll my eyes. “We’ve already covered this dumbass. Jamie and I are just friends. Why do you care anyway?” I spit, crossing my arms in annoyance.

He turns and starts marching away, muttering something under his breath.

“No,” I call indignantly, traipsing after him “whatever you have to say, grow a pair and say it to my face.” I nag, not ready to let this go.

Daryl stops and whirls around to face me so suddenly that I nearly crash into him.

“Ya wanna know why I care?” he growls, his jaw gritted and eyes boring into mine. My mouth opens but no words come out. I’m momentarily caught off guard. He seems to take this as a sign to continue.

“Because, I was a fucking idiot and I let myself fall in love with you.” he yells, swinging his arm around is agitation like he always does.

My eyes widen in shock and disbelief at his confession. The gears in my brain seem to be working double time, trying to figure out what he could possibly mean other than that and my eyes dart around his features, looking for a lie.

I find none.

“Daryl, I-” I say and then cut myself off. I am at a loss for words. I never in a million years expected this to happen. Daryl makes a noise in the back of his throat at my lack of words and his eyes harden. I know it’s only to cover up the hurt though. His lips part and I can tell he is about to say something else so I speak up first,

“Do you mean that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses at that, looking taken aback. His countenance softening when he sees the vulnerability in my eyes. I am raw, exposed. He hesitates for a moment and then nods slowly, uncertainly.

There is silence for another moment as I process his reply. And then a smile breaks out onto my face while a airy laugh of relief slips past my lips.

“I love you too.” I tell him. “I have for a long time. I love you, Daryl.” I exclaim, my voice gaining more conviction as I gain confidence. He grins at me and I love the way his eyes squint with happiness. It’s a rare and beautiful sight which only serves to make my heart swell. He reaches forward and gathers me into his arms, hugging me to him tightly. I immediately return his embrace, burying my face into his worn leather vest. He quickly pulls away just enough to kiss me, strong arms still holding me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear, though he moves a hand to cup the back of my neck. I melt into the kiss, leaning up on my toes to meet him halfway. His scruffy facial hair brushes against my cheeks which makes me smile. I feel light-headed; dizzy but in the best kind of way. He kisses me so hard that he has to tighten his grip on my waist to keep me in place. We’re both smiling when we finally pull away, our foreheads rested against each other as we pant for breath.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He pulls away enough to lower his head and shrugs, turning shy again. “D’know, just thought a girl like you wouldn’t want a guy like me.” he murmers. I smile adoringly at him, placing my hand on his cheek to get him to look at me. “Well I guess we’re both idiots because I thought a guy like you wouldn’t want a girl like me.”

His eyes lock onto mine, looking slightly alarmed. “I do.” he insists. I laugh, leaning closer to his again so that our breaths mingle. “And I want you too.”

171 notes · View notes

retro-rezz-the-est · 5 years

Text

Brat Tamer (Roman Reigns/Reader smut)

Summary: The reader’s not a wrestler, but she’s being intentionally bratty bc Ro doesn’t come back home to her. Ro decides to take things in his own hands when she takes her brattiness and her teasing too far.

Word Count: 6,510

Warnings: voyeurism, a small tiny large ass bit of possession/possessive behavior, Roman being an absolute beast who I want to wreck me into oblivion, mutual masturbation and I believe that’s it??? Forgive me if I’m wrong.

(A/N: This was supposed to be for reaching 600 followers, but I’m re-purposing it so it’s now @writing-reigns’s birthday gift! To my lovely talented amazing fantastic beautiful sassy big sister: thank you. You’re an absolute delight to be close to and I hope you know how much I love you. Happy birthday, darling!)

(A/N #2: Bracket texts are Roman’s btw lol)

You never did like it when he was away for so long.

In fact, you hated it.

You knew this was a part of his job: the leaving for long periods of time, the sparse days that he spent with you when he was home with you, the repeated sadness of seeing him leave. But, you knew that he loved you and you loved him, so you supported him anyway.

It would always be months before you saw him again, all smiling and warm with him in your arms. Video calls and late night chats on the phone weren’t enough for you. You needed him here and at home with you.

You longed for his touch, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin at night when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. But now, his side of the bed was empty, and his babygirl would curl herself around his pillows to imitate the feeling of him against her.

You missed the way his hair would flop forward into his face and his constant struggle with trying to push it away, you laughing every single time because it was just too damn cute. Just thinking about all the little things he did just brought a smile to your face.

But, you also missed the more…sensual parts of your relationship.

He would always do things to you that none of your previous lovers ever did, and just thinking of them sent excited shivers down your spine. You missed the way his hands felt on your skin, pulling at your hair and tugging at your nipples as he too you with wild abandon and left you satisfied for hours.

You missed the feeling of his mouth on yours and his body pressed against you as he made love to you and made you cum more times than you could ever count on one hand. You missed the way he'd wrap a hand around your throat and hold you down on the bed as he pounded you from behind, banging the headboard against your bedroom wall as he called you his good slut over and over again.

He always had a way of making you feel like the most pampered princess in the world and the most dirty, naughty brat to ever exist and that was just perfect. You missed the sting of the marks from his hands on your ass whenever you misbehaved; doing it to yourself just never felt right at all.

You pined for his hands groping your slick breasts as he took you against the wall in your shower right after he got home from a long day at the gym, and you craved the feeling of him burying his tongue in your pussy whenever he woke up early on weekends.

All in all, you just…fuck, you needed him.

Which is why it hurt so much when he rang you up that night right as you were about to leave.

“Wait, what?! What do you mean you can’t come home yet?!”

“I mean, I can’t come home because I’m still on the road, babygirl,” Roman told you again, him sounding frustrated over the phone. You could hear the rumble of the bus he was on in the background, and the sound of the other Superstars chatting away right after.

“Ro, I’ve been planning this dinner for weeks! You said we’d go out when you got back, and that was supposed to be today!”

He was supposed to come home that Saturday afternoon, with his princess welcoming him at the door as he finally got back from the European leg of the company’s tour. It would’ve been your birthday the day he shou;d’ve been back and when you told him, he had promised to take you out for a nice dinner and left it to you to plan out the details.

You both were supposed to have fun, celebrate him coming back from the latest leg of the tour and you surviving another year on this planet, and come back to your apartment to reconnect after months of being away from each other.

It was supposed to be perfect.

But it wasn’t and he wasn’t here, and you were left without your man, fully dressed in the skin tight red sleeveless number he always loved, hair and makeup done with your heels on only to be left alone at your door.

“You can’t just cancel on tonight because of your stupid fucking job!”

You kicked off your heels and stormed into the living room, throwing your purse on the kitchen counter and stomping over to the couch. You glared out into nothing, hoping that he could feel the weight of your stare through the phone. “I literally got all dressed up for you to just ghost on me!”

“You watch your tone with me, babygirl,” Roman warned, venom seething from his mouth. “I’m sorry that I can’t just hop off this fucking bus, grab my bags and stow away on a plane for you and get there in five minutes! You said you supported me going away when we started dating, so support me.”

You’re full-on yelling at this point, red in the face and close to tearing his eyes out when he actually gets back. “How can I support you if you do shit like this to me?! You fucking promised-”

“Stop!” he shouted, shutting you up immediately. He never used his dom voice outside of the bedroom before and frankly, it scared you but you weren’t going to let down your front that easily. “Don’t fucking tell me what I promised, babygirl. I said I was sorry and Daddy will make it up to you when he gets back, as long as you stop being a fucking brat about all of this.”

“What-me? Being a fucking brat?! Excuse me, Roman, but I am completely justified in-”

“Babygirl, look,” he sighed, the deepness in his voice fading slowly. “I swear to you that I’ll make this up to you, okay?”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes. Whether they were out of pure anger or sadness, you couldn’t tell. “B-But Daddy-”

“No buts, princess. I’ll see you when I get home. We’re about to reach the hotel, and I’m really fucking tired. This conversation is over.”

And with that, he hung up, the dial tone beeping in your ear before you turnt your phone off.

You managed to call the restaurant and cancel your reservation, take off your dress and your makeup and remove your jewelry without throwing your phone across the hall or punching a hole through your bedroom door. Slipping on one of Ro’s old merch tees, you climbed into bed and sniffled, crushing his pillow against your chest and sighing angrily. You contemplated between tearing your hair out before you went to bed that night or just screaming into the pillow. So, you chose the latter.

“How dare he?!” you yelled. “Fucking hypocrite saying that he doesn’t break his promises, and yet goes and breaks one himself! And he called me a brat for being angry? The audacity!”

All he had to do was give you a warning beforehand, a message or anything but nothing! Nothing from him because he put so much attention on his fucking work that he never even thought about you at all!

You flopped onto your back and kicked the blankets away, grumbling and staring into the dark void that was your ceiling for what seemed like hours until an idea popped into your head. You grinned deviously as you began to weave the idea into a full-fledged plan and you rubbed your hands together maniacally.

If he wants a brat, fine. I’ll give him a brat. Let’s see how much good that does him in the long run.

Game on, Daddy, you thought as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a grin slowly making its way across your lips.

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

He was in the hotel gym with a few of the other Smackdown Superstars when you had texted him that morning. Setting down the weights he was lifting, he paused his music and wiped the sweat from his brow. Just seeing your name light up his phone made him smile a little, even if he did insight the argument the two of you had a few days ago.

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

morning Daddy 😚😚

[Gmorning princess. How've you been?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

just missing u, that's all 🥺

[You know I'll be home in a few days. We've been over this]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i know, but i can't help it. i miss having u here to take care of me 😢💙. ur babygirl's pussy is so wet rn & she needs her Daddy to come take care of her 🥺

[I'll take care of you and all your needs when I get back, just how you like it ;)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

you better, or i may have to do it all by myself 😏😏😏

Roman looked down at his phone with wide eyes, sensing that you had something up your sleeve.

[Babygirl, what are you planning to do?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

nothinggggg 👀😏

[Don't lie to me now, princess]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

okay fine, you're no fun >:P. i'm rubbing my clit thru my panties rn. they're

the ones u got for me for my birthday, and they're *soooo* soaked rn 💦💦

i'm all wet and aching and needy bc i miss u, Daddy 🥺

He could feel his eyes getting darker by the second and quickly got up, saying his goodbyes to everyone in the gym before grabbing his gym bag and speed walking through the door. He made his way to the elevator and felt his phone vibrate again, cursing to himself as the doors opened and he leaned against the back wall.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

fuuck Daddy it feels so good but it doesn't feel the same

i miss your big fingers, Daddy. mine are too small and yours make me

feel the best 😻

[Princess, did I tell you that you could touch yourself?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no???

[Take your fingers away, princess. I didn’t give you permission]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no

[What did you say?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i said no 😈😊

fuck, my pussy is so wet for you, Ro. i’m sliding my fingers thru my folds and they’re so wet for you 😩

i have to text with one hand bc lefty’s busy with my slick hole rn

[You better stop teasing me like this or else]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

or else what? you’ll punish me? i already have two fingers in me, about to be three

She’s really testing me today, isn’t she? Roman thought as the elevator doors dinged and opened on his floor. He quickly walked to his room, placing the keycard in the door and swinging it open. Throwing his gym bag somewhere near his suitcase, he walked outside onto the balcony and swiped a hand over his face, imagining you in one of his merch tees with your legs spread and your folds wet and swollen for him.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i can’t hit my spot like you do, Daddy. you always finger-fuck me so good

fuck, i feel like i’m gonna cum already from this 😩💦

[Babygirl, I said no]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

too late, Daddy. i’m pushing in my third finger ;3

it feels so damn good Daddy. i can’t wait until you get back anymore

His eyes got dark and clouded over with lust as he felt his cock grow in his gym shorts. Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i’m rubbing my clit with my thumb now. dragging my nail across it too

i’m picturing it as your teeth bc you love to use them when you go down on me 🥺

[I said to fucking stop already. Listen to me, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

Hmmmm….how about…no 😋

i’m about to cum Ro. gonna squirt all over my fingers for you 💦

Is she really going to…? No, she wouldn’t disobey me like that, would she?

[(Y/n), you better not or else you’ll regret it when I get back]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

shit, i’m cumming Daddy fuuuuck

His mind is immediately bombarded with the vision of you soaking your bed, your juices flowing from you and staining your sheets. He heads back inside, closing the balcony door before throwing his phone on the bed and sitting down himself.

[You done having your fun, princess?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

mmhm ^^

i came so hard for you, Ro. you wanna see?

He gets a picture right after, opening it to see your inner thighs glistening with your juices, your hand forming a peace sign as your digits are coated with your cum. Growling deeply, he closes his texts and moves to call you, the phone seeming to ring endlessly in his hand before going straight to voicemail.

“Hello person calling my phone, you’ve unfortunately reached the phone of (Y/n). Someone must’ve pranked you or something, because this is obviously the wrong number. But, if you meant to call this number, I’m clearly busy with something important so if you need me, leave a messa-”

Roman hung up quickly, throwing the device next to him and sighing, flopping onto the sheets and staring at the ceiling defeatedly. The concentrated throbbing of the hard-on in his gym shorts made him angry. You were testing him, teasing him, and he was buying into it big time. The phone buzzed next to him suddenly, making him grab at it and lean his head up.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

gotta go, Daddy. i’m gonna go take a nap. byeeee 😚💗

[You’re really gonna do this to me?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

yep ^^. Talk to you soon 😘

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

For almost a full week now, he’s had to deal with the torture you put him through, showing up to press talks and photoshoots and working out non-stop with a constant hard-on from the things you’ve been sending him. For a full week, the sexts became an almost daily thing as you recounted all of the things you were doing to yourself behind his back: touching yourself constantly in the bed you shared, grinding against his pillows and taking selfies with only his shirts on, sending him pictures of you in your newest dresses.

The “home movies” you sent him were equally as troubling, showing him exactly how well off you were without him there to take care of you and please you by teasing him with the various vibrators and dildos that you had in your chest.

You even had the nerve to call him during a meeting with Stephanie and tell him that you were wearing the vibrating panties he bought you last year for your birthday while you were out with friends, causing him to shoot up in his chair and try to hide his erection.

And for a full week, he’s been pent up with sexual energy, counting down the days and waiting for when he can finally come home to you and punish you for what you’ve been doing to him.

But, they’ve also been dragging on for what seemed like an eternity. So when he pulled up to the arena that Friday night, Roman was more than a little pissed off. You tagged him in a selfie you took on Instagram of you in a fitted black and turquoise lace bodysuit with a black lace collar, posting that you “had a surprise waiting for a special when they finally gets back to you”.

He felt a hot streak of possessiveness run clean through his system when he shut off his phone, and his fingers twitched with the need to let everyone know that you were his as he read through the comments. But he persisted, gripping the steering wheel of his rental tightly before getting out with a plan in mind. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he pushed the doors open and walked inside with a grimace on his face as he tried to maneuver around the various stage crew and other wrestlers that littered the hallways.

Roman was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to acknowledge bumping into one Mustafa Ali and walking straight through the man. He fell back with a yell, rubbing his shoulder as the Samoan continued on his way with his suitcase rolling behind him.

Rising to his feet, Mustafa brushed himself off before chasing after the other man, cupping his hands over his mouth to yell over the countless voices around him. “Hey, Roman! Hold up, man!”

Oh fuck, he groaned internally as Ali pulled up beside him, a smile on his face as he tried to match Roman’s pace. “So, how you been, buddy? It’s been a minute since we last talked, huh?”

Roman grunted, brows furrowed as he ignored him. His phone buzzed in his pocket again - most likely another message from you - and his mind immediately went back to you, thinking about how delicious you looked in that bodysuit.

She’s gonna fuckin’ get it when I get to the locker room, he thought, his hold on the bag’s handle tightening as Mustafa continued to try and speak with him.

“Ok, not much of a talker today. That’s fine. I just wanted to discuss our strategy for our match tonight. You know, for our tag match against Ziggler and Corbin? I was thinking that maybe you come out first and give ‘em the verbal one-two hit before I come out since they don’t know I’m your partner yet, but we could change that if-”

“It’s fine the way it is,” Roman replied, moving some stray hairs from his face before making a left towards the locker room and finding the one with his name on it. Before opening the door, he turned around to see the smaller man looking back at him holding his thumbs up and smiling.

He entered the locker room and shut the door, his mood somewhat lightening as he rolled his bag into the corner. Shoving his hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened the newest message from you.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

(photo attached)

bought another one for you, Ro 💜💜

Roman walked over to the bench and sat down, taking his hair out of the messy bun he put it in earlier with his free hand and sighing as he felt the crotch of his jeans grow tight. There you were, spread out on the couch on your back wearing a lavender keyhole lace teddy with one of your legs bent towards the camera. You were smiling back into it and biting your lip, which made him groan and tug his hair a little as he ran his hand through it.

[You’re really milking this teasing thing, aren’t you?]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Why yes I am. This is why you don’t lie to me, Daddy

[Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it later, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Can’t wait for it ^3^

He smirked deviously when he read that, loving how coy and innocent you sounded but knowing how wet you became just from him sending that. He did secretly love this game you were playing with him, riling him up with texts and pictures and videos, but as your Daddy he had to put you in your place. You had to know who was really in charge.

Standing and shoving his phone back into his pocket, he walked back to the door to unlocked it, only to hear the sound of someone suddenly knocking on the other side. He opened it to find a stagehand standing in front of him with a clipboard.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Reigns?” she started, tapping her fingers nervously on the board, “I know this is kinda sudden and we only have, like, an hour and a half until the show starts, but the big man and some of the other guys upstairs switched around some of the matches on the card for tonight’s show.”

“And? What does that have to do with me?”

“Your tag match was one of the ones moved and, well….it was moved to the beginning of the night. Like, right after Baron’s segment. So, you’ve got to start getting geared up since some of the people in the film crew wanna start shooting some of your pre-show promos in a bit.”

She then turned on her heel and scampered away, reaching in her back pocket for a pen and clicking it to scribble something down.

He sighed, closing the door as he looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that he only had a few minutes before someone else came knocking. Roman walked over to his suitcase and turned it over on its side to open it as he sighed.

Guess I’ll deal with you later, babygirl.

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

The crowd was roaring in his ears and he was loving all that energy, soaking it up like a sponge as he knew you were tuning in to watch him fight. He loved knowing that you could see the Big Dog in his natural habitat, watching him kick the crap out of anyone he was put in front of and feeling the apex of your thighs tingle from how turned on you were becoming.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins throughout the entirety of the match, from when he slapped the taste out of Corbin’s mouth before Mustafa made his presence known to when he finally pinned Ziggler after hitting him with a third Spear during the nearly 15 minute long tag match.

Seeing “King” Corbin pull his new lackey from the ring and scamper to the back while holding him by his arms brought a quick smile to his face as he yelled “You can’t handle all this!” and the ref raised their arms in victory.

“I’ll see you around, okay? You were awesome out there!”

“You too, Ali,” Roman said smiling, panting slightly as the duo made their way through the curtain. Promising to check in on him some time later on, the two pounded fists and shared a brief hug before Ali began limping to the back with one of the medical personnel in tow, leaving Roman by himself.

“Now,” he told himself, smile dropping and eyes narrowing as he tore his way through the halls to get to his locker room, “time to take care of business.”

He immediately locked the door when he got inside, ripping his tactical vest off and throwing it into one of the open lockers before going over to his bag and unplugging his phone from the wall next to it.

His chest was shiny with sweat underneath the fluorescents, so he grabbed a towel that one of the stagehands left on the bench inside to wipe himself down. Drying off his hair with one hand, he used the other to unlock his phone and video call you, with you instantly picking up after only two rings.

“Hi, baby! You were so great out there during your match tonight! That was probably one of your best this ye-”

Your voice died down when you saw the look he was giving you: eyes holding yours in a steely gaze, neck vein starting to pop out a bit and a clear glint of mischief running across his entire face, but he disguised it all with a smirk. It sent shivers down your spine to know that secretly, you were the one to do this to him, to get him like this.

“How’s Daddy’s favorite little tease doing?”

“A tease? Me?” you feigned shock, mouth dropping open as you placed your hand on your chest. “Why would I ever have the gall to tease you in any way? I’m a good girl, remember?”

Roman’s face deadpanned and you had to stifle a giggle from bursting. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, (Y/n). You’re not slick, and your Daddy isn’t a dumbass.”

His eyes flowed down to your chest, and how you were starting to angle the phone to show him more of what you were wearing. He chuckled at your latest attempt to get him riled up but unluckily for you, he was filled to the brim with pent-up energy and was all too ready to take it out on you.

You pursed your lips and blew a kiss to him as you crossed your legs on the bed. What seemed like miles of red mesh ran up your legs to your upper thighs and was held up by a frilly garter belt, leading his eyes up your body as the other two pieces of the red lace lingerie set hid all of your goods from his heated gaze.

“You like it? I bought this little number a while back and I was gonna send you a pic of it as a congratulations gift but since you called me, I figured now was as good of a time as any! So, what do you think?”

He could feel the crotch of his ring pants grow tight as you giggled again and stuck your tongue out, dropping the towel next to him as he ran his hand over the newly formed bulge. “I think,” he started, moving towards the bench and sitting down, “that it’d look much better on the bedroom floor. Speaking of which, take it off.”

“Huh?”

“The bra. As much as I love how it frames your perfect breasts, I want it off. Now.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you placed your own phone on your bedside table and angled it against the lamp that stood there before reluctantly reaching around and unsnapping the lacy piece, sighing as the room’s cool air made your nipples perk up. You tossed the discarded garment in the direction of your closet, smiling faintly and awaiting further instruction.

“Now, since you wanted to tease me for over a week with those fucking texts, those videos, those tags on Instagram, now I’m gonna do the same damn thing to you. And this time, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Oh shit was the only thought that ran through your head as you gulped and felt your fingers twitch.

“So, what I want you to do is take out that cute little toy chest you have under your bed-”

“How do you know about that?!”

“-and take out the dildo you got molded for me. You know the one I’m talkin’ about, right?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you muttered under your breath as you stood up, wondering how in the fuck he found out about it and turning around to bend over suggestively and give your man a show. You could hear the jingling of his belt clasp and heard him suck in a breath, smirking to yourself as you pulled out the black box from underneath your bed frame.

For Roman, he loved the view that he was given, loving how the lace and the garter belt framed your ass as you reached into the box to pull out the silicone toy and show it to him. It was shaped and colored to look exactly like his own cock but before he could say anything, you climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged with it in your lap. He could see a slight flush dusting your cheeks and he laughed darkly.

You could see him fully now, his arm with his phone in his hand partially outstretched while his other hand held his half-hard cock as he coaxed himself to full hardness. Looking down at the dildo resting on your legs, a shudder went through your body. Although your new toy will never compare to the original, you’re gonna make damn sure that your money is well spent.

He watched as you let out a shaky breath, moving to lay down on our back at the head of the bed and picking up the dildo. You raised it to your lips and suctioned your lips around the head, getting it nice and wet for him before trailing it down your neck and circling it around your breasts and nipples until they were shiny with your spit.

With wide eyes, you looked back into the camera and asked, “What do you want me to do now, Daddy?”

“Cut the innocent crap, babygirl,” he sneered, making you moan softly. “Trail that thing down your stomach and run it over those pretty panties you bought.”

You answer him with a “Yes, Daddy” before doing as he told you, dragging the dildo down over your stomach and circling your belly button with it before running the head over your pelvis and throwing your head back with a moan.

It felt good running it over your skin like that, almost as good as if Roman was actually there with you and teasing you himself, but you’d never say that to him outright. Raising your hips to meet it, you slid the toy’s shaft in-between your legs and ran it over the thin strip of fabric that kept it away from your lower lips. You could already feel how wet you were becoming, seeing as after a few seconds of this that the dildo was faintly glistening with your juices when you held it up.

“Babygirl, don’t you fucking stop until I tell you to,” he growled over the line, making you jump out of your own little fantasy world. He was angling his phone downwards towards his hard-on, showing you how he’s already leaking cum onto his fingers as he touched himself at your expense. “Keep rubbing that dildo over that wet little pussy of mine.”

You spent the next few minutes running the toy over yourself, grinding it against your clit and moaning but taking it away when you got too close to cumming as to prolong what you had going on. The arch in your back became more prominent as time went on and as sweat began to bead on your own temple, making every moan made and every breath you took much heavier.

He finally told you to stop, seeing how he could spot your juices staining your inner thighs from where your phone stood on the bedside table. “Pull those soaked panties to the side, (Y/n), and fuck yourself with that toy for me. I want you to be fucking dripping and soak that thing so badly that I can see your cum from my end.”

You can audibly hear him stroking his cock now, his pre-cum making it easier for him to pump and twist his thickness. A smile broke out onto your fae but by the look in his eyes, you knew it wouldn’t last as you pulled the red panties to the side with your free hand and rubbed the head of the toy between your lips before sliding it into you slowly.

A heady groan rang out from within you and your eyes snapped open as you began to fuck yourself with it, pressing the silicone balls against your clit to drive you to climax quicker. Moving back into your own little world, you could feel it moving against your inner walls and running against every spot that made you tick.

You threw your head forward with a moan, both of you watching how perfectly all of it fit within you in one go and how quickly you started thrusting it. You raised your hips to meet it with every pass, sighing whenever it filled you to the brim.

You were so lost within this space, your mind so cloudy with arousal, that you almost didn’t hear him call your name.

“Slower, babygirl. I don’t want you cumming yet. You’re not the only one who wants to drag this out.”

So from that point on, he directed your pace and your every movement, telling you to go slower or faster and leaving you hanging on a damn thread every time. Roman laughed heartily when you huffed and puffed out your cheeks, calling you adorable despite being a teasing brat.

“I’m only giving you what you asked for, so don’t blame me for any of this.”

He made you grind down on it every time the dildo went balls deep, making you cry out when he made you take it out right after and pass the sticky head over your clit. You were balancing on nearly nothing at that point, a heavy sheen of sweat now covering your body and seeping into the mesh tights you were wearing until he finally tossed you a bone.

“Now ride it. Ride that fucking toy like you will once I step through your goddamn door. Ride that dildo until you’re screaming my name and letting everyone on your block know who fucking owns you.”

He says this with a snarl, tightening his grip around his shaft and stroking himself quicker as you rose to your knees and moved a pillows between your thighs to suction the dildo onto it. You sunk down on it immediately, your juices making it much easier for you to slide it in and your walls hugging it closely. You grabbed another pillow and moaned loudly into it as you started bouncing, bits of your hair flying around your face and lightning running through your veins.

Your hands started to move in opposite directions; one drifted towards your breast to pluck and pull at your nipple, and the other fell to your pelvis as you began rubbing at your clit with your fingers. Looking at Roman through the phone didn’t do you any better at all, him showing you how hard and thick and ready he was for you.

His chest and forehead were covered in a thin layer of sweat as he stroked himself to a climax throwing his head back with a moan and tugging at his long hair. You could see thick streaks of white fly from the head and splatter his chest and stomach, making you moan as he lowered his head and looked straight back at you. His eyes were cloudy and lost but still dominant and utterly him which made you close your own eyes to keep yourself from reaching that peak.

But despite that, you could still feel it building up in your abdomen as the dildo hit all of your deepest spots and made you cry out to the heavens. Words could no longer spill from your mouth when you felt that twinge of arousal run directly through you and drive you closer and closer to that edge you were seeking. He was finally going to let you cum after what seemed like hours and hours of teasing…

...which is why it shocked you so much when Roman told you to end it.

“Stop.”

“....wait, what?”

“Babygirl, I said stop. Take the dildo out now.”

Even through your daze, you could hear him clearly. His eyes were nearly black, clouded fully with lust as he gripped the phone with one hand and held his softening cock with the other. Isn’t this what he said he wanted? You were so close, why should you stop now?

So you kept at it, grinding the toy down harder as you moved closer to the phone so he could see. You arched your back and pretended not to hear him, lost in your own little world of pleasure and dipping your hand back to your hard bud to rub at it furiously.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

“(Y/n), I said to fucking stop.”

And stop you did, ceasing all movements and quickly taking your hand away from your clit. The tone he used surprised you as he never really used his dom voice outside of the bedroom, so you knew he was fucking serious.

You moved to grab the phone from its place on the bedside table and whined as you slowly slid off the toy, the crotch of the lace panties a deep marroon as your walls clenched around nothing. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you put the dildo next to you and were sure to get it in frame, all shiny and glistening with your juices.

“Now what, Daddy?”

“Pick it back up and clean it off, baby.”

You did so without hesitation, moaning obscenely as you made a show of picking the toy up and running your tongue along its sides. He let out a low moan as he watched you watch him while you licked your juices off of it, swirling your tongue around the fake head like you would’ve if he was laying right there with you.

He hummed, the deep noise sending shivers down your spine as you placed it next to you and held the phone up before resting your head on the pillows behind you.

“All done,” you said coyly, biting your lower lip again as he ran a hand through his hair on the other side of the screen. Always did love when he did that.

Roman told you to put the toy back in the drawer where you found it and to change - both of which you did, dropping the dildo back into your toy chest and swapping out the soaked red panties for a tank top and silk shorts.

That’s future me’s problem, you thought when you noticed the wet spot staining your sheets, wearily moving around it before slipping under your blanket.

“I miss you, Ro. When are you getting back? Like, actually?” you asked, pouting your lips.

“I’ll be home in a week, babygirl,” he told you, out of breath and nearly falling back into the open lockers behind him. “You better not touch yourself until I get back.”

Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to sit up. “Huh? Why not?”

He ignored your question, moving over to his left to grab the towel that laid on the bench. Wiping off his chest again, he said assertively, “Your Daddy’s giving you a command, (Y/n). Follow it, or else I’m gonna put the belt on you for as long as I want.”

You gulped audibly, holding your tongue as your eyes grew wide. After a few seconds, you let out a soft “Ok” and he nodded in approval.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good girl for me, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, hanging up the call and shutting off his phone. Roman threw it back into his bag and sighed as his deep brown eyes wandered to the ceiling and he slumped back against the wall next to it.

She’s gonna end up killing me someday, he figured, wiping his hand down his face, but what a hell of a way to go.

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

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ohshitmyship · 4 years

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Happy Dannypocalypse 2020 – Danny Phantom deserves a dark and gritty rewrite bc it has really good potential so I wrote the first chapter

Danny was used to weird shit in his life.

It came with the territory of professional ghost hunting parents. Danny had grown up moving from place to place, his family following the strongest haunting, always in search of potential for a doorway to the other side.

Five years ago, the Fentons settled down in a small city named Amity Park, declaring that the ectoenergies surrounding the area were exactly what they needed to finally punch a hole through time and space to reach the Ghost Zone.

Danny and his sister Jazz finally settled into their new school, made new friends. The hauntings, oddly enough, kind of stopped aside from the occasional poltergeist. Their parents came up with some explanation, but neither of them listened. They were used to weird shit.

Enough so, that when their parents finally built their dream portal to the Ghost Zone and it failed, Danny brought his friends over.

It made sense, honestly. He only had the two friends; Tucker, who was a tech genius; and Sam, who was a self-proclaimed gothic witch and loved all things ghost.

“This is so cool,” Sam gushed, snapping pictures with a vintage black polaroid, “There’s so much weird energy here.”

“There’s no energy,” Tucker scoffed, poking carefully at the large round tunnel that sat in the basement, which Danny’s parents had converted to a lab.

“There is too,” Sam shot back, “You just don’t feel it.”

“I don’t feel it because nothing’s here. This thing is broken.”

“It’s still dangerous though,” Danny warned, zipping into an ectosuit his parents made for their ghost adventures.

“You told us it doesn’t work?” Sam asked, moving towards the mouth of the portal.

“Yeah,I don’t know specifics,” Danny admitted, “Apparently they said they did everything right, calculations and all, but it just...didn’t work. They’ve been troubleshooting all week.”

“This is some complicated stuff,” Tucker said, moving to stand beside Sam at the entrance, “Even I don’t know how they did it.”

“Mom said that it was a combination between ectobiology, computer science, and physics.” Danny stood between the two, everything from the neck down covered in a tight white and black ectosuit.

“Why do you have that in your exact size?” Sam teased.

Tucker scoffed, “You’ve met Danny’s parents, right? They have an ectosuit for each of their kids. Probably have some for us too.”

“We should put them on and go in too!” Sam suggested.

“No,” Danny said, quite firm, “I shouldn’t even really have you guys down here. If we all go in and something happens, my parents are going to kill me.”

“Yeah I don’t really wanna go in all that bad,” Tucker admitted, “I know your parents have like, seven PhDs between them, but this does not look safe at all.”

Danny sighed, tugging on the edges of the gloves nervously, “Okay so I get in there, you take a couple of pictures, and we’re done.”

“Why are you using that thing anyways?” Tucker asked, gesturing to Sam’s polaroid, “It doesn’t even take good photos.”

“Everyone knows that polaroids are better for ghost activity,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, Tuck,” Danny added, “Everyone knows that.”

“Shut up and get in,” Sam said, smacking his arm playfully.

“That’s what she said.”

“Tucker!”

“Sorry.”

Danny sighed and stepped forward, his foot hitting the metal panelling.

Nothing happened.

He stepped inside fully, turning around to smile at the two as Sam snapped a photo.

“So far so good.”

Danny turned back around and made his way through the tunnel. It was about ten feet long and seven feet in diameter, all shimmery steel and green wires. There were some buttons but Danny didn’t really think about them too much, his parents had already spent countless hours inside the thing.

It was strange, being inside of the tunnel. It felt as though everything was muted, he felt lighter, his strides perhaps a bit longer than they had been before.

When he finally reached the end, he turned around again. The tunnel seems far longer somehow, Sam and Tucker too small to only be ten feet away. His head was heavy and he heard a light rushing sound in his ears, like someone was playing ocean noises in another room.

“This is so cool!” Sam’s voice called, echoing slightly through the tunnel. Danny could see her camera flash.

Danny stood there for a little, looking around him at the panelled walls. He knew a decent amount about physics, but aside from that he was lost – he was a space sorta guy, not a ghost hunter.

When Danny’s head started to hurt, he decided to make his way back out. His parents didn’t mind them checking out the ghost portal, so long as they didn’t mess around too much. Jack and Maddie Fenton had put them all in ectosuits and walked them through the portal, explaining what each button did. Danny didn’t pay any attention. He rarely did, to be quite honest.

The tunnel seemed to be playing tricks on his mind, because it seemed to get longer with each step he took. He dragged his right hand along the wall, using it for support as his headache began to worsen. He wondered what the hell was going on, he had never felt like this in the portal before, why now was he suddenly feeling so strange?

Maybe he was coming down with a cold – that might explain it.

And then everything happened at once, but it happened in slow motion.

Danny saw Sam’s camera flash go off, but it lasted far too long. His hand brushed against a button – green, some small part of his brain registered – and pushed it by accident. Sam’s eternal flash was suddenly lost in a wave of green as he felt a shock lace through his body, starting at his hand and travelling throughout his whole body.

It was...strange.

A memory was brought to Danny’s mind, a rather old memory. He was maybe five or six and they were playing around on their aunt’s farm. One of the farm hands, Danny forgot his name, had jokingly dared him to touch the electric fence. He had, and of course he’d been met with a sharp jolt of pain.

This sensation was similar to that, but a thousand times stronger, and it didn’t stop. When Danny removed his hand from the fence, the pain had gone away immediately, leaving only a small tingling sensation.

His whole body felt like that, as if each vein was filled with electricity rather than blood.

He had never been in so much pain in his entire life, which was probably about to end.

Danny could only see green, feel pain, taste metal, smell the scent of something burning, hear a distant scream. Was it him, or his friends? He couldn’t tell.

“It is time.”

The voice seems to be coming from deep inside him, but all around him at once. It is a low voice, a baritone. Through the intense and never ending pain, Danny felt something cold in his gut.

I don’t want to die.

“Few ever do. But you are not going to die just yet, Danny Phantom. This is not the end, but the beginning.”

And then everything went black and the pain finally, finally stopped.

“Danny! Danny! Tuck, I think he’s waking up!”

“Danny, c’mon man, open your eyes!”

As if obeying the command, Danny’s eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, gasping for air.

“Danny!”

He looked up to see Sam and Tucker on either side of him, tears staining both of their faces, Sam’s eyeliner has made little trails down her face.

“Wha–what happened?”

His voice cracked and his throat was dry, as if he hadn’t spoken in years.

“We don’t know,” Sam babbled, not bothering to wipe her eyes, “Danny you were just in there and suddenly there was this bright green light and the portal turned on and, and –”

“And then you just stumbled out!” Tucker continued, in no better shape, “You were smoking and glowing.”

“Glowing?” Danny brought a hand to his head, rubbing at his forehead. He noticed that the glove was white, not black like it used to be.

Then the sinking feeling is back and he struggles to his feet.

“Danny, no!” Sam argued, trying to pull him back down.

“You were in there when it was activated!” Tucker grabs his other hand.

His hands tingle for a moment and then his hands are free.

He stumbles his way to the basement bathroom, for the mirror that he knows is above the sink.

Danny doesn’t recognize the person in front of him.

Well, the face itself was the same, but everything else seemed to be reversed. His hair, which used to be inky black like his dad’s, was now a pure white, even his eyebrows had changed. His skin used to be somewhat tanned, but he was pale enough to look like a corpse.

His ectosuit was reversed too – the body of it used to be white with the boots, gloves, and neck black. Now, it was the opposite. But that wasn’t the weirdest – no, the weirdest was his eyes. They used to be a soft blue, like his mom’s, but now they were bright neon green, they even glowed in the dark light of the bathroom.

“I’m...a ghost.”

Danny felt his knees buckle and he slid down, his back hitting the door as he slumped on the floor.

“Danny….”

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Sam kneeling next to him, Tucker beside her.

He could tell that they wanted to say something, but he knew that no one had any idea as to what to say. What did you tell your best friend who just died and returned as a ghost before your very eyes?

Instead, Danny began to cry. How could he not? He died.

He died.

Sam and Tucker weren’t far behind him. They both dropped to their knees to hug Danny on the bathroom floor, tears flowing freely from their cheeks. The only sounds to fill the basement were soft sobs and sniffling.

Danny didn’t know how long they were sitting there, sobbing on the bathroom floor. But eventually, Danny began to calm down. Maybe this isn’t so bad, a small part of him tried, Maybe we can work with this. Mom and Dad will have a field day. Jazz will get to learn the psychology of a ghost, that’s kinda cool I guess.

As the tears began to slow and Danny was able to catch his breath, something strange happened. Danny had his eyes closed, but the flash of light turned his eyelids red and he heard Sam and Tucker gasp.

He felt...warmer. Danny suddenly noticed how cold the bathroom floor was, how sore he felt.

When he opened his eyes, Sam and Tucker were staring at him in awe. He looked at his hands. They were no longer pale. He took a breath and felt it fill his longs. He raised a hand to his neck and felt his pulse. Slowly, he stood up to see his reflection back to normal. Maybe a little paler than before, his hair wild, but he looked like his old self. He looked alive.

Sam and Tucker still knelt on the floor, staring up at him silently. He knew they were all thinking the same thing: had they imagined the whole thing?

Danny poked his head out of the bathroom. The entrance of the portal was a bright neon green, shimmering like water in sunlight. He went back into the bathroom, holding his hands out for Sam and Tucker.

They both took them, or at least tried to. Their hands passed right through Danny’s, as if he were a hologram.

“Okay,” Tucker finally spoke, “This is getting weird.”

“Getting?” Danny scoffed, trying for some light humour, “We’re way past weird.”

Sam and Tucker stood up on their own, and Danny unzipped the ectosuit covering his regular clothes.

The three of them walked out of the bathroom, Sam and Tucker sitting on the old couch in the corner while Danny paced in front of them.

“What happened after I… passed out?”

“Well there was a great big flash,” Tucker began, “Then the portal turned on and you stumbled out, then you collapsed.”

“We checked your pulse but we couldn’t find it,” Sam added nervously, “You were so cold.”

“Did you call anyone?”

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other nervously.

“We didn’t know who to call,” Sam finally said, “We thought about calling an ambulance, but it was pretty obvious something ghost-like had happened.”

“We were about to call your parents, but then you woke up.”

“So we’re the only ones that know this happened?”

Sam and Tucker nodded.

“Okay.”

“What….happened?” Tucker asked after a minute.

“Tuck!” Sam hissed.

“What?” Tucker demanded, “We saw it! Why shouldn’t we ask about it?”

“It’s alright,” Danny assured, stopping his pacing and sighing, “It all happened pretty fast. I just remember Sam taking a photo, then pressing a button by accident, I think I was electrocuted, everything went green, I heard a voice then...then everything went black.”

“A voice?” Tucker asked.

“Like, the Grim Reaper?” Sam asked.

“I don’t think so,” Danny said, trying to remember, “I think it was a man’s voice, it was really deep. He said something like ‘you’re not going to die just yet, Danny Phantom. This is just the beginning’.”

“Wait, Danny Phantom?” Tucker asked, “You sure he didn’t say Fenton?”

“No, I’m sure,” Danny said, “He definitely said Phantom.”

“But he said it was the beginning of something?” Sam asked.

Danny nodded, “Yeah, not the end, but the beginning. No idea what he meant though.”

“Maybe it’s like the tarot card, Death,” Sam suggested, “Like, it means a transformation. Something ends so that something else can begin.”

“That’s all well and good,” Tucker said, “But what does it mean?”

“I wish I knew.” Danny sighed again and rubbed his eyes, “I’m sorry guys, I’m really tired.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sam said, standing up to lay a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Tucker added, “I mean, you did get electrocuted in a portal to the afterlife, so I think you’re allowed to be a little tired out.”

The three of them laughed, but the laughs were preceded by so many tears that they sounded almost forced.

Danny led his friends out and they promised to call him once they got home. He waved to them as they walked away and sighed when he closed the door.

He was glad no one was home, because he was sure that someone would’ve heard him scream. Danny wandered back downstairs to put everything.

“Wonder what I’ll tell my parents,” he said to himself as he folded up the ectosuit to put back in the wardrobe, “Maybe I’ll tell them it just...came on.” Danny groaned, “That’s no good. Maybe I’ll say there was an electrical surge and it turned on. Yeah, that makes sense.”

He put the ectosuit away and began to pick up the photos littered across the lab floor. Sam would probably want them so he didn’t throw them out, but he didn’t look too closely at them.

Until he found the last photo that Sam took.

It was the same one that had flashed just as he pressed the button and it was...kind of haunting.

The photo was all kinds of distorted, even the white edges tinged a sickly green. In the centre was Danny, his arm touching the edge, his body looking to be in the middle of a convulsion. It was hard to tell with the distortion, but it looked as though there was a ring of white light around his chest and waist. He looked like he had as a ghost, but in the middle part, in between the two lights, his suit looked like it had before.

Danny was about to put the photo away, slightly disturbed that Sam had managed to catch the exact moment of his not-death, but something else caught his eye.

There were two shadows in the background, blurry and pixelated at the same time. One shadow looked humanoid, while the other looked like a blob with a head and arms holding onto something long. He wondered if the shadows belonged to whatever had spoken to him while he was in the portal.

Danny shook his head. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and he was too exhausted to think properly. The only thing he wanted to think about was his warm bed – he wanted to get in it and sleep for a very, very long time.

Danny gathered all of the photos and took them upstairs. Mechanically, he got ready for bed. He didn’t remember brushing his teeth or putting his pajamas on, but when he climbed into bed, his breath was minty and he was changed.

Danny was worried that sleep wouldn’t take him, but he could already feel the darkness settling in, far calmer than the darkness before.

As he drifted off to sleep, Danny mulled over the words from the mysterious figure. Two words in particular held firm in his mind.

Danny Phantom.

#danny phantom #dannypocalypse #dannypocalypse 2020 #danny phantom fic

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spiderparkerpeterman · 4 years

Text

headache

i typed this out after downing a coffee, forgetting i'm very sensitive to caffeine, forgot to save but then my laptop restarted for an update? so now i'm here four hours later bc i gave up on life, not so hopped up on caffeine but with a major headache and also it's 1am. enjoy!

content: stark!reader, fluff n cuddles, peter being a good boyfriend (tm)

warnings: lapslock, i've had to write this twice so i'm angry, post-endgame and yes this follows canon i'm sorry, feels, all the feels, angst and consequences of death, Tension

word count: probably less than my original draft (1528 words)

the jet ride back to the newly rebuilt avengers compound was quiet. the mission the reformed avengers had just been on was successful, an infiltration of a loose hydra camp, but there was a big hole in the team that had become apparent as soon as the mission had begun that left everyone in a tense silence.

missions were going to be very, very difficult now. teamwork-wise and mentally. emotionally. it had been, what, a year or so since your dad had... well, anyway. it seemed like such a long time ago- it was a long time ago- but you had been itching to go back out and do avenger-y things for months. leave it up to the starks to distract themselves from grief and pain by working their asses off. you had been tinkering, toying with your dad's old ideas, doing some minor patrolling stuff for a year, and god was it not enough to keep you distracted.

but then you had actually taken on the mission and then everyone noticed that there were a few missing links that almost cost the team the victory. your dad had been a rock, a point of leadership, an active brain on the team. capsicle had been someone steady, brave, always willing to take on the hard jobs. and nat- nat- she'd take out a room full of men three times her size with ease and still have breath to keep going until every last man was down. sparklefingers was off in space with a rodent, a robot, and a lovesick asshole; that marvel lady had disappeared as soon as she could; the wizard was back at his boys' club; robin hood had officially retired, even leaving his bow behind for the rustic life; and orange slices had said something about "making up for lost time" with his daughter, leaving only you, captain birdman, edgy amnesiac, smart hulk and a handful of ironsuits you'd created over your little break, to regroup and do the mission.

and peter, of course. you could never forget about peter. especially not when he was sitting next to you, your hand in his, jaw clenched, staring at his lap.

the poor kid. you knew your dad was also kind of his dad, the only father figure he'd had since ben. the kid kept losing father figures- probably some kind of curse, you had reasoned with yourself, because this was getting out of hand. you had been by his side when he decided to return to spider-man-ing, a month or two after your dad had... yup. done that thing. he had been by your side when you went into your dad's lab in his lakehouse for the first time since the incident, some four months later. you had his back after the whole mysterio-then-court scenario. he had your back when you had your first major panic attack because you realised that you just couldn't cope. you had each other's backs, you had for three, well, technically eight years now. since just after peter had been taken on by your dad to beat some sense into the others in germany.

coming back from the blip was weird. the entire situation was weird. you had been blipped, dusted, gone, worried and confused about your father being on a giant donut in space with peter, and then you had come back five years later lying on your dusty, unused-for-five-years bed, then the compound was blown to smithereens, you were saved by your suit that you still had on after helping keep the wizard safe, discovered your dad had moved out to the country and had also had another kid- who you loved to bits, of course you did- and also your dad had invented time travel.

and then he was gone, forever.

so yeah. massive hole in the team, everyone was quiet, peter looked like he was going to throw up, you were trying not to cry.

you realised peter was looking at you, and you had been staring at him for a little too long. he squeezed your hand, his eyebrows raised slightly. he looked like a kicked puppy, and oh god, your heart hurt.

"sorry," you mumbled, looking away. sam raised his head but averted his eyes when you accidentally made eye contact. you felt a headache coming on- all this stress about the mission and hole-in-the-team stuff was not good for your physical, emotional or mental health. you rested your head on peter's shoulder, feeling his head rest on yours in return. you closed your eyes, tuning out the sound of the quinjet, just focusing on your breath and peter's soft circles that he was rubbing into your hand.

at some point, you drifted off because you awoke to peter gently nudging your shoulder, the quinjet landing. you blinked blearily at him.

"you okay?" he asked, cupping your cheek. you closed your eyes again and leant into his hand.

"headache," you mumbled, turning your face into his hand and kissing it a light kiss. "i'll be okay."

as soon as you stood up to get out of the quinjet though, a wave of nausea washed over you, forcing you to sit back down.

"or not."

peter rushed to pull you up gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he held both of your bags in his other hand. he helped you out of the quinjet, into the compound and up to your room.

exhausted and sore, your head pounding like nothing else, you collapsed on your bed, absentmindedly taking off your wrist cuffs with your nanosuit in them, kicking off your shoes. peter puttered around, putting his bag down then your bag down then taking off his webshooters, shoes and jacket, pacing the room looking at you worriedly.

"do you need anything? like- like aspirin or water or juice or music? i head whale noises can help with a headache and-"

"peter," you mumbled.

"- but i haven't had a headache since i got my powers so i kind of don't know what to do and-"

"peter," you said, a little louder.

"- i think i should get you some aspirin, yeah, and i'll close the curtains, and-"

"peter!" you called, regretting it as your head pounded particularly hard. peter stopped pacing, and looked at you. "stop pacing, you're giving me motion sickness. and please- just keep it down, i just need quiet okay? you can go get what you want, some aspirin would be nice, and a gatorade too. but please calm down. it's just a headache, i'm tense and stressed. it'll go away soon."

peter nodded and rushed out of the room. you lay on your back with a small groan, staring up at the plain white ceiling of your room. before the compound had been destroyed, you'd put glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of your bedroom with your dad, and you could look up and stare at the fake constellation stories you had made, giggling with your dad. now the ceiling was empty, strange, unfamiliar. everything was- you had lost almost everything that night. your eyes burned with tears, which you wiped away, keeping your hand over your eyes, fighting the need to throw up.

a few minutes later, you heard your door swing open as peter reentered. you took your hand away from your face and looked at him, balancing two boxes of aspirin and four bottles of gatorade in different colours. he smiled at you gently as he put the stuff on your bedside table.

"let's get you sitting up, yeah?" he whispered, the look in his eyes oh so tender. he sat behind you, resting your back and head on his side so you didn't have to move too much and took out two small aspirin tablets. "i didn't know which colour gatorade you wanted so i got you all of them."

"i'll have the red one, thanks," you replied, taking the tablets and then the gatorade that peter opened, swallowing the pills with a large mouthful of the drink.

you sighed and moved so that you were lying in his lap and looked up at him. you giggled.

"what?" he asked, and you raised a hand to poke at his jaw.

"how do you not even have a double chin from this angle?" you pouted, "it's not fair."

"spiders," he replied, "they tend to do that to you."

you giggled again and sighed again, closing your eyes.

"i should go," peter whispered, raising your head so he could slip away from under you. "you want quiet, yeah?"

"i never said i didn't want you in here," you muttered. "i'm in pain, comfort me."

peter grinned and obliged, maneuvering you so you were lying under your blankets then slipping in next to you. he lay your head on his chest and wrapped an arm behind your neck so you were secure. you rolled onto your side, an ear to his heart. his heartbeat was so steady, as usual.

"i love you, and want you to know that you did great today," peter mumbled, stroking your hair.

"love you too. you also did really well. thanks for having my back."

"any time."

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