#but i could come up w something. fear not. angst be my middle name

[foolsocracy]

Horrible thought: what if miles or someone makes a lobotomy joke near noir

i think he would be allowed to go a little off the rails

[kaybreezy3000]

(F-Reader, smut w/story, soft Five + our usual cocky Five, S4 fix-it)

Broken but breathing. Longing for something that always felt just out of his reach, Five was not okay.

With fates forever intertwined, a train, and a smile he would never forget, once again, the impossible became his reality, but like always, not without tragedy.

In the end, all that mattered are the people Five loved. For them, he would do anything.

Note ~I originally started this pre-s4 release as anon request for another headcanon like my last one, but after watching the show I decided this needed to more than that because Five deserved it. This is a full story, with each letter representing a chapter with something that relates back to Five, only with a new twist, you (female reader insert). For those concerned about the Five and Lila narrative, fear not, this story is not going that route.

~mature content so if not your thing, please stay away. TY.

Warnings and Tags: Rated R for sexually explicit content, Hurt Number Five, Alternate S4, Whump, Mental Break Down, Self-Doubt, Angst-humor-love, Uncle Five, The Deli Fives, Starts with Five in a very dark place, Not the end the show gave us.

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

Amor Fati is a Latin phrase that may be translated as "love of fate" or "love of one's fate." It is used to describe an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary.

It's an idea that everything recurs infinitely over an infinite period of time.

A-Aim

Whether Five was setting his sights on saving his family, or when he was focusing all his attention on the crosshairs of his scope, his focus was always impressive. 

From a very young age he took on every challenge with a ruthless level of determination, but that unfortunately made him come off disturbingly detached, and now, even though Five no longer needed to be that feral creature, his behaviors from the past were alienating him from his family, and the rest of the world.

It's not that Five didn’t have a very good reason for letting himself become so removed, but now, gone were the days when he had glorious purpose.

Sitting alone in a powerless world that Reginald had dumped them in while biding his time at the end of a bar with his face curtained by the dark fringe of his shaggy hair, Five was feeling exceptionally defeated.

He hypnotically swirled the amber liquid in his fingerprint smudged glass.

Over and over, he repeated your name in his head.

He liked the sound of it, but he liked the way you smiled at him even more.

Five saw you nearly every day on his way to work, but as much as he may have wanted to, he never said a word to you. When you’d look his way, and catch him staring, your eyes would come alive as your lips perked up just a little, as if daring him to crack.

He didn’t.

He couldn’t. 

That was the way Five thought it had to be.

But then, something happened.

He could still feel that...

That...

He didn't know what it was.

Shutting his eyes, Five raked a hand through his snarls while disappointedly shaking his head. He knew he shouldn’t let himself do this but he couldn’t help it.

It was just another day, mundane as all the rest. All the seats had been taken by the time you entered the train. You were stuck in the middle, standing in front of him with nothing to hold on to. Less than thirty seconds into the ride, the air between you filled with static.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

The train unexpectedly shifted.

You started to fall, and the next thing Five knew, he had you in his arms so fast it was as if he had his powers to blink again.

With the warmth of your butt pressed against him and your hair catching in the light stubble shadowing his chin, Five inhaled deeply, trying to ignore how oddly alive he felt as he discreetly as possible savored how good you smelled.

Before he could put together why he felt so amazing, or before you could tell him off for being too handsy, the train shifted again, only sharper this time, forcing him to hold onto you even tighter or you would have tumbled into the man in front of you.

“Oh, my god! I am sorry,” you’d gasped as you clung to him, your fingernails digging into the thick wool suit coat covering his forearms.

Realizing you weren’t mad, Five let his hands slide a little further around your midsection, firming his grip.

“Thank you,” you embarrassingly gasped as the train continued to aggressively rock your body against his.

“It’s my pleasure,” Five breathily chuckled into the fluff of your hair.

A second later, the train switched tracks, and everyone was flung forward again and your computer bag swung backwards, violently jabbing him in the dick.

Still at the mercy of the wild train, with Five doing his best to widen his stance to gain more balance so you both didn’t fall, you sheepishly cocked your head back at him.

“Are you ahh -"

“I-I am good,” he coughed, cutting you off.

Then, to your surprise and his, though still visibly in pain, he started laughing.

By the time everyone stopped getting thrown around, you were laughing too. As you turned to face him, Five reluctantly let his hands slip from the narrowest point of your waist, his fingers gliding along the fabric of your shirt a little slower than necessary.

Face flushed, you quickly introduced yourself, but he said nothing as he smiled at you with a dreamy look in his eyes.

“I am pretty sure we just took a detour to the moon back there, but I still can’t believe I just did that,” you joked.

At a loss for words, other than things he knew he shouldn’t say, Five’s amused smile began to fade.

“Thank you for saving me from a nosedive. Let me at least buy you a coffee or something… It’s the least I can do after stomping on your foot and nailing you in the-” 

You looked down.

“Shit… That big scuff wasn’t there before, was it?” you asked, anxiously referring to the mark on Five’s shoe, not something notable going on in the dick region of his expensive looking dress pants.

When the handsome stranger staring at you still said nothing, you began to worry your bottom lip, sucking it in on one side.

Feeling so many things he’d never let himself feel, Five wanted nothing more than run his thumb over the alluring pink flesh and tell you that getting his dick assaulted and having his shoes ruined was well worth it because of the way you were looking at him with your face more beautifully flustered than he’d ever seen anyone’s.

He wanted to say that, but he didn’t.

The train slowed to a stop.

The doors opened, and without another word, Five took off. Stepping into the crowd of commuters that were rushing out the doors as they elbowed their way through the busy subway station, he'd never felt more spineless.

That morning, when it came to his unbreakable determination and legendary aim, he didn’t even shoot for it with you, so he could hardly call it a missed target. Still, he felt awful. Almost as soon as he’d hit the street above and he was inundated with the less than savory smells of the city, he knew he’d missed something huge.

Racing back down the stairs, heart racing, the rush of air blew past him as the train with you on it pulled away.

B-Boners (AKA Mistakes)

At this point in his life, as much as Five hated it, he still had boner issues. Your overactive dick in your pants kind of boner issues, and the other kind, such as when committing social blunders, like rudely blowing you off when you were simply trying to be polite.

Being young again, with hormones what they were, the first boner problem was an unavoidable way of life, and speaking of which, his thoughts about you once again drifted back to how good it felt when your body melted into his, your ass perfectly molding against the crotch of his pants as he held you steady.

Feeling things he shouldn’t be while perched on a barstool at a bar filled with other people, Five subtly shifted his legs apart. Willing his over eager cock to calm down, he looked up at the mirrored wall behind the bottles of liquor displayed along the back wall.

The young man looking back at him frowned, but his body remained aroused despite his sorrowful reflection.

Unable to hold his own hateful glare, Five looked back down at his almost empty glass.

Hopelessly horny, and far past slightly buzzed, he muttered a slurred sounding, “ Grrrrrr- ate . ”

With an irritated huff of air blowing his hair out of his face, Five yanked his tie even looser and tipped back his head, swallowing the rest of his drink. Feeling like he could breathe a little easier, he threw down an overly generous tip, assuring that even though he technically wasn't 21 yet, his ID said he was, and combined, he’d be served again.

Ready to go, his hot palms gliding down his tensed thighs, Five’s eyes fluttered closed for just a second.

His head spun, but not with the sickness of too much drink.

In his whirl of thoughts, he was back on the train with you.

He could practically feel your ass in his hands, his fingers groping greedily as he shamelessly ground his shaft between your legs from behind.

Sadly, at this point, Five still had never been with anyone real. Yet, the disconnect of not knowing what this would really feel like, or how he should be going about doing it, was doing nothing to ruin his bizarrely timed fantasy of animalistically fucking his rock-hard erection into the warmth of your curvy body in any way he could.

God, he wanted to touch his dick!

Opening his eyes, the room spun even more and not in a good way, but still Five refrained from doing that and instead clung to the pleasant visions in his head.

Over the years, with little to give him the feeling of satisfaction he so desperately longed for, Five had unwittingly become addicted to self-stimulation, and it was not just the thrill of that chase that tormented him. Five craved anything that gave him that all-consuming high, though when it came to bloodshed, he refused to admit how great it felt being so good at his job back when he was the Commission’s most celebrated assassin.

Feet hitting the sticky floor, Five’s thoughts blurred with an endless reel of bad ideas, only one of them being the idea of hunting you down so he could re-start your conversation from the train, this time pushing past his reservations for why getting to know you wasn’t an option. 

Screw that!

This time Five was going to charm you, wine and dine you, and take you home so he could do all sorts of naughty things to you- if you’d let him, of course . He was a monster, but not that kind of monster .

A few seconds later, hand pushing the bar’s grungy advertisement-covered door open, the cool night air hit Five’s overheated face, but it did nothing to get his head on straight or make him realize he had no idea how to treat a real woman who could talk back or think on her own.

Yes, in this body and one that was much younger, Number Five Hargreeves hit on strippers and waitresses to get a rise out of them, but having an actual two-way conversation with them, followed by any form of true intimacy, no.

No, he’d never done that, but today, with you, he wanted to, so damn badly.

No matter how drunk he was, Five knew that letting himself think like this about you wasn’t right or helping the tent in his pants get any less prominent and he hated himself for it. With his bloodshot eyes struggling to focus, he dizzily turned towards the staggering reflection in the store window next to him, taking in the sad face looking back.

“Pathetic,” he grumbled, before trudging away with his chin lowered to his chest.

C-Cycle of Loneliness

Stumbling along the sidewalks while on his way home, Five felt trapped. He was finally free of all the death and endless killing, but that didn’t mean he felt like he could live, or that he even knew how to.

With his past what it was, he was unable to let anyone other than his family know who he really was and like before ending up powerless in Reginald’s new world, they were failing to see that he wasn’t as okay as he was pretending to be.

Like always, despite what Five felt about this, in most situations, he managed to keep his composure. He acted like he was fine. Putting on a stoic face of impassivity, he attended most family functions when asked. He’d gotten his PHD in record time and handled his work within the CIA professionally, but at the end of the day, he was merely existing and the reasons for it were becoming harder and harder for him to justify.

D- Distance and Diffidence-the opposite of confidence

When it came to shyness and a lack of confidence, most of the time Five Hargreeves would be the last person you would think of, but self-doubt had always plagued him. Growing up with a father that never thought he was good enough was the trigger that inflamed his insecurities, but even worse, after the trials of his youth and his lifetime alone in the apocalypse, he believed that if he’d never left and messed up the way he did, his family never would have died.

Never a day passed that Five didn’t tell himself, If I hadn’t lost it and jumped to the future and got myself stuck, none of this would have happened.

Knowing that none of his siblings were exactly thrilled with how things had gone for them over the last five years, nearly every time Five was around them, he couldn’t help but feel like that was all his fault too.  

Ironically and tragically, long ago, Five was the one that initially distanced himself from his family, but in typical Five Hargreeves fashion, now he’d been overcompensating for his feelings of inferiority by lashing out on those he loved, only further complicating his problems.

Only twenty minutes from the suburbs where Allison and his niece Claire lived with Klaus, who was dealing with the aftermath of his sobriety in their bubble wrapped basement, since they’d been there, Five had only been to their house once.

Looking up at the four-story brownstone looming over him, no less drunk after walking the twelve blocks it took to get home, Five realized that not one of his family members even knew where he lived, and he was surer than ever that they didn’t care to.

They didn’t need him anymore.

E-Egotistical

Five knew he could become preoccupied with his own affairs, often showing others contempt by rolling his eyes at them in annoyance and boredom, or both, but his smug behavior wasn’t as simple as him having an exaggerated perception of his own worth.

Five never meant to become so estranged from his family. They were everything to him, and in addition to that, he never meant to treat you as coldly as he did by running off when you were merely trying to treat him like any other normal person would treat someone else.

No one would have believed it, but the truth was, Five was scared of rejection more than anything. All along he had been trying to protect himself with a mask of indifference as his mighty shield.

F-Fumbling, Fuck It

Fumbling with his keys, Five was confused by his own behavior, and even more bothered by his inappropriate thoughts about you when he didn’t even know you. He was hardly what anyone would call a brainless idiot, but the title seemed to fit as he tripped over his own feet while talking to himself like a total nutcase.

“Hi. Sure… No problem, it’s all good. My shoe and my dick are fine, really. Oh, and what a lovely name. My name is Five. Yeah, that’s right. It’s a fucking number,” he sardonically laughed, then dropped his keys when after several tries, he couldn’t get them to align with the keyhole.

Swooping down to get them, he tipped over, his head banging into the door, swinging the flimsy panel of wood wide with the force of his skull until it slammed into the wall inside his apartment.

“It wasn’t even locked, you dipshit!” he cursed himself as glass skittered across his shoes from the picture frame that just smashed to the floor, the one with a picture of him holding his newborn niece, Grace.

“Fucking, FUCK!” he cried, picking up the picture. 

He started brushing off the tiny shards of glass sticking to it.

When a white line tore right over the bundle in his arms, ruining her little face that was staring up at him as if he were worthy of her look of wonderment, instead of angrily throwing a fist into his already crumbling plaster, Dolores’s familiar voice started to filter into Five’s mind, proving he was doing particularly awful that evening.

As his once beloved mannequin, the one who wasn’t even there, encouraged him to move towards this kitchen and set down the photograph before his bloodied fingers damaged it even more, the suggestiveness he’d created in her calming words had Five’s lips turning up in a drunken smirk of craziness.

You need to sober up, Five… You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Come to bed with me…’

Dripping blood in his cast-iron sink basin, thoughts of a totally different kind of self-absorption filled Five’s head, and with them, a renewed rush of blood went places that had hardly let him forget they were dying for his attention.

Acting in an alcohol induced form of autopilot, obeying Dolores, Five poured himself a glass of water from the tap, drank it, then clumsily navigated the darkness of his one room flat, heading towards his bed, where he fell like a ton of bricks into the rumpled bedding, still fully clothed.

With his knees digging into the bed, lifting him, hands racing to unfasten the buttons on his waist coat and shirt, this was one of Five’s many, many fuck it moments, not that he had much of a choice in how he landed with his head smashed into his pillows.

But…

As he rolled onto his back, his dick twitching from the mere pressure of being pressed into the bed, his hand slipped over his pants, and that was another matter at hand that was all him.

The dips and valley of Five’s abs flexed as he lay there, his youthful body bleached and pale in the slivers of light streaming in from between his blinds. As he let his hands wander and he began to stroke his cock through the layers covering him, the languid motion of his hand was weak in contrast to the sharp angles of pleasure contorting his face.

With the cool air in his room hitting his exposed chest, Five shivered. His eyes narrowed, locking in on the long shadow of his erection that was making a mockery of his pants.

It felt so fucking good to touch himself. He whimpered, as he dug his hand into himself harder, then let up again.

He didn’t mean to, but he lived for this.

In the apocalypse this was all he had. 

Now, going at it at his desk, having spent a long day at work, the papers in front of him hardly stimulating enough to hold his interest, jerking off was just another part of his daily routine.

Lying in bed, in the shower, or even sometimes in the bathroom at work if he found himself unable to reign in his body’s needs, Five would stroke his dick, hard and fast, and before he knew it, he would be biting back guttural moans, head leaned up against a bathroom stall, coming all over a wad of toilet paper, or at his desk, dispensing his load in an already used shirt or anything else that he could reach that was expendable.

It was juvenile, and perverted as all hell, and he knew it, but just thinking about it, the wrongness, and about you, Five was getting harder, his balls filling with that delicious ache that made him feel alive.

“You can touch it, sweetheart” he whispered as he began to unzip his pants, trying to concentrate on the illusion that Dolores was there with him.

He teased himself, brushing his fingers lightly over the cotton still covering his cock.

As if watching it from outside himself, the resin covered peachiness of his beloved’s hand merged with the fleshiness of your real hand.

Palming himself with growing need, the face Five had been seeing looking down at him suddenly smiled the way you smiled at him as the visions in his head became a muddling array of unquenchable desire.

“Fuck, I want you,” Five groaned as his fingers snuck inside the fly of his underwear for just a second before pulling out again.

Acting out your part, he tightened his grip on his girth, making pre-cum begin to leak through his underwear, forming a darkened spot where the head of his cock was begging to be let free.

“Yeah, just like that. Go slow,” he moaned, his fingers wrapping around his length, moving over the stretched fabric as he began to pump, still gently as he possibly could.

Pictures flashed through his mind. His lips on your jaw, your eyelids heavy and expressive as his lips slightly parted, his hair flowing away from his face, tickling your silky skin as he held you from behind like a trusted lover.

At the phantom like sounds of your little laughs filling his ears, Five’s dick pulsed in his hand, blood flowing full and fast.

Unable to take it, he reached inside his underwear, giving in to touching himself more directly.

Five twirled his finger around the end of his cock.

Lowering your head, the heat of your mouth began to slip over the thickness of his leaking tip, tonguing the pool of stickiness gathered there. 

“I knew the second you looked at me, you wanted me,” he arrogantly huffed as you went down on him.

Though Dolores had heard it all before, glaring at him on the sidelines of his mind, she suddenly looked appalled.

You can’t say things like that! she chastised him.

Determined to shake her, Five put all his attention on the feel of his cock entering your throat.

Snuffing out any remaining thoughts of Dolores out of his head, Five quickened his pace, drowning out the sound of her panicky warnings that were trying to make him see that this kind of fantasy was even worse than his others with her.

Five! You are only hurting yourself with this!

“I don’t care!” he growled.

He bit down on his lip and closed his eyes, only to be greeted by the memory of your hair falling over your shoulders as it brushed against his face when you were both back on the train.

He breathed in and he could smell you.

Then his brain trying to piece together what really happened, he saw your look of shock as he rushed away from you like you were the plague or worse. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he heard you angrily yell, even though you had said nothing when he did that.

“Please don’t stop. I’m sorry,” he panted, mad at himself for hurting you, and even more panicked by his own madness.

Fighting back, he kept his pace, and just like that, you just as quickly forgave him, taking him to the hilt, your nose hitting his pubic bone.

Dark hair in his eyes as he watched his entire cock repeatedly drive down your throat, Five hissed, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-"

Dolores’s voice cried out. Five! You’re losing it again!

‘Go away!’ Five’s mind screamed at itself, proving she wasn’t wrong-he was losing it .

For the next few minutes, the sounds of Five sadistically berating himself as he violently masturbated were absorbed in the quiet of his dark, empty room.

Shame filling him, his stomach twisted.

He was so fucking close. 

His shoulder blades flushed as small beads of sweat formed on the back of his neck. The muscles in his back and arms tensed harder and harder as he quickly moved his hand.

Angling his face to the ceiling, his eyes scrunched shut and his right arm dropped lazily to the side.

His butt cheeks clenched over and over as his bed springs creaked, his thrusts enough to make his headboard bang into the wall as he frantically pumped his body upwards into his hand.

“You-ff-fu-ah-cking lov-vvve my cock-fuck-you’re amazing,” he grunted and writhed, his sweat covered legs burning under the wool of his rumpled pants that were trapped around his ankles as he bent his knees up and his heels dug into the bed.

Already putting on an impressive one-man show of insanity, wanting more of your mouth’s wet heaven, Five let go of his dick, spitting in his hand. Returning to the length of flesh waiting for him, he thrusted up into his fist with louder and louder noises of slicked ecstasy.

Panting and moaning your name, sweat dripped down the curves of Five’s back. Through sharp propulsions of his hips, he cursed. Throwing his other hand back, he clutched and pulled at his own hair.

He held his breath as his mind screamed and his come poured over his fingers.

Lost in what he was pretending was the feel of your mouth accepting him, yet still wanting to spare his sheets, Five aimed his dick inwards, letting his seed pour out over the fine trail of hair leading up his abdomen, the white beads flinging across his otherwise unmarked skin.

Pulses of pleasure took him as he watched the eroticism of defiling himself.

His broken gasps got quieter and quieter. “FFFUUCC-ffff fff-mmmff."

His balls tightening as hips jerked more and more erratically, Five felt the betraying warmth of his tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he rode out wave upon wave of the orgasm he’d longed more than anything for you to be part of, the defeated voice of his own creation ruminating in his head so loud he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She doesn’t even know you.

“I know,” he whimpered back with the hand not on his cock, coming up, covering his red face.

G-Grief

Most of Five’s life was filled with intense mourning. He’d witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever loved, more than once. His anguish over having to bury his family left him in a state of ruin, not unlike the burning world he’d found himself in at the ripe age of thirteen.

Hours after he’d drunkenly cleaned up the mess that he’d made of himself, sucking in, mind adrift, Five suddenly couldn’t breathe.

There was too much ash.

So thirsty he could barely swallow, he ran his tongue over his cracked lips, only getting more of the bitter taste of powered cinders and the tang of his own blood.

The smell of burning flesh made him gag into the suffocating white of his pillowcase.

His stomach turned even as it growled with hunger.

Five was asleep, but the horrors he couldn’t outrun were creeping in like the maggots on the thousands of corpses he could see laying all around him, the sickness of it all wiggling into his periphery as he kicked out his legs and tangled himself in his blankets.

I'm going to die here!

It’s too hot!

I can’t get out.

He was being crushed.

Fingers clenching, hands shaking as his chest became tighter and tighter, it was as if he was the one that was dying even though it was the lifeless faces of his siblings flashing in front of his terror filled eyes that were darting around his dark bedroom, seeing nothing but the endless nightmare of his past.

H-Happiness

In another timeline, while not having a nightmare of the panic attack inducing kind, along a sunny roadside, Five had a very revealing conversation with the woman that had plucked him out of hell, only to throw him into a new one.

Ice cream truck stuck motionless, a bullet seconds away from rearranging Luther’s brain, Five stood there in his schoolboy shorts, his pistol pointed at The Handler as he said, “I'm not looking for happy.”

Like so many times, he watched her perfectly painted lips curl with a certain brand of mischievous cruelty that was all her own. “We're all looking for happy, Five,” she coolly corrected.

Looking away, Five tried in vain to hide his panic.

He did want happiness! That was the problem, only he’d given up on it for himself long ago and the Handler knew that pointing out his lie was the perfect way to break him all over again.

Not about to let her win, Five ground his teeth together and defiantly looked back up at her, not bothering to show is venomous disdain as she towered over him in her shiny red heels.

The world never cared what he wanted, but he’d be damned if he’d give up fighting to save it, but now, as he rushed from his bed to his bathroom sink, helplessly sobbing as he filled his hands with scoop after scoop of cold water, trying in vain to bring himself back to reality, who was going to save him?

I-Ignored

It was the day of his niece’s birthday.

Leaving work, after another day of reporting back to his superiors about The Keepers’s activity and them not giving a shit how far he’d gotten infiltrating their cult like secret society, Five looked down at the colorful invitation in his hand, then the package he’d wrapped the best he could in the other.

The shiny paper was lopsided, revealing an electronic toy puppy’s face peeking out from inside.

The last time Five ran into Diego and his family while out at the same store, his goddaughter had told him how much she wanted a very specific chunk of robotic plastic that was over in the nearby toy section.

“I know its the next Tickle Me Elmo or some shit, but we don’t have the money for that. You know that, Grace! Why do you always have to push and push this stuff,” Diego said, scowling at her.

Lila rolled her eyes at that, then unfazed by her look of disapproval, Diego kept moving, throwing more important items in their cart.

The twins, covered in groceries, fussed and cried in their car seats as their parents moved on, not saying anything else to Five other than a flippant, ‘see you later.’  

Like always, they weren’t happy to see him and the little girl looking up at him shared his same look of disappointment.

Hating how let down she looked, Five smiled. “What do you think his name is?” Five asked, pointing to the barking box just down the aisle that said, ‘Makes chocolate poopies you can eat!’ in bold letters.

“I don’t know, Uncle Five,” Grace said, shyly looking down at her shoes. “What do you think he wants to be called?”

Turning back, looking even more irritated as she put back a box of sugar filled kids cereal that Diego was trying to sneak into the cart, Lila yelled, “Grace! Come on!”

The little girl ran off, but Five answered her question after purchasing the toy puppy, programming it to wag its tail as his voice came out through its recorder, saying, “I’m Mr. Pennycrumb and you are my best friend. You should listen to me even though I am a toy dog. Your parents are idiots, but I am still smarter than them.”

A few hours later, after his daughter excitedly tore open her favorite gift of the day, and he heard Five’s special message and Grace’s squeals of delight over it, as he envisioned karate kicking Mr. Pennycrumb into the rafters, Diego’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head as he yelled,  “Really, Five!”

“What,” he said, shrugging.

Clearly Diego and Lila weren't happy with him, but it wasn't like it mattered. They were never happy with him.

Even while in the presence of his family, as Five leaned back against the rainbow ball pit’s netting, it felt like he might as well still be rotting away in the apocalypses still. While at the birthday party with Luther bashing the shit out of the pinata, their bickering and problems with each other never seemed to end. He tried his best, talking to Ben and the others, but once the small talk was done, it was as if he wasn’t even there unless he said something shitty.

Five was just a figure on the sideline, someone who his own family didn’t want to know.

All he wanted his entire life was to get back to them, but when he did, they had moved on. They didn’t understand him, and he couldn’t blame them for that, he didn’t even like who he was, but at least he was owning that. Jerks act like jerks.

If not for the sound of Gracie calling out to him as he was about to leave, Five would have ended up at a bar again, alone and miserable.

“Thank you so much for coming. I love you, Uncle Five,” she said after she ran over to him.

“I love you too,” he quietly replied, trying not to let her hear the crack in his voice as she put her arms up, silently asking him to come down to her level so she could hug him.

That little hug was all it took, and not much after that, Five found himself out in the parking lot with the rest of them, meeting a very strange man named Sy Grossman.

J-Judgement

Most of Five’s life was defined by punishment. He often mused that all the bad things had been inflicted on him as retribution for his many wrongdoings. As for which of his crimes he was paying for now, after finding Viktor, then having a night out at dinner with his family that went all sorts of wrong, the world was set to end again in twenty-four hours, so it didn’t really matter.

No matter how remorseful Five was, or how much he’d already suffered, or how he tried to make things right and move on without hurting anyone else but himself, it seemed that the sentence of this endless destruction would always be his penance.

K-Keepers

Five should have seen it. Both that Ben had tricked them with his sake toast, and long before that obvious con.

Sitting there dressed like an idiot, his fake mustache thicker than it had ever been when he’d been 19 years old the first time around, he had chatted it up in the therapeutic round circle of crazy people, going on and on about how he was walking around in a body not his own.

He was a 65-year-old man for Christ’s sake! This shouldn’t be where he was!

He told those weirdos that he’d lived through things people couldn’t even begin to imagine!

He lived off all kinds of nasty creepy crawlies, his teeth breaking through the crusts of their exoskeletons, the ooze of their insides almost impossible to swallow, but he did it anyway.

He’d brought on so much suffering to others as he traveled through time, briefcase in hand, murdering anyone he was ordered to eliminate.

Some days Five would look in the mirror and get so confused that he’d forget where or who he was. He didn’t know what was real or not anymore.

He didn’t have to pretend that he was nuts, that was why The Keepers let him get closer. That was why he had run into Lila out skipping book club, trying to feel the danger and excitement she’d once lived for before becoming a tired mother who felt like she was drowning in the monotony of her marriage.

Looking away as Diego fumed about catching his wife with her creepy little Greek boyfriend, Five angled his face towards the window.

His mind reeled. Diego was asking for his help! Him of all people!

Everything was falling apart.

After a van ride covered in puke, listening to Baby Shark on repeat, they were all being shot at.

Heart racing, he blinked, just as a shotgun shell was going to split his skull in two.

Only just then realizing he had his powers back, Five landed in a subway station that had not been under the street he was standing on when they got there.

L-Love

Narrowly fleeing from the set-up in psycho Christmas Town, The Hargreeves had escaped unscathed once more, only they didn’t. The marigold in their bodies proved they weren’t who they were before, and the mangled bodies lying all around at the farm they’d come to while looking for Ben verified that once again, they were way in over their heads.

Reginald couldn’t or wouldn’t help them anymore than he already did, and they couldn’t help themselves. Ben was going to die all over again and his love for Jennifer was a curse not meant to be broken.

Watching his brother doing his best cop impersonation, all Five could think about was they were never going to win; they weren’t meant to, even if that was what they were brought up to believe.

The Keepers and their purpose proved Five’s life new life was a shame. He failed to see that his direct report was one of them. He failed to listen to the things inside him that were telling him none of this was real.

No matter how much Five loved his family, it was never going to be enough to fix this.

Later, as Diego tore open filing cabinets in the abandoned office of Dr. Jean and Gene Thibedeau, Lila pursed her lips at Five for about the hundredth time that day, signaling again that she wasn’t happy with him. Hitting his arm, she quietly said, “I say we go off on our own and try to figure out what is going on with this new power of yours. Pull your big girl panties up and stop being a baby.”

Ignoring her, Five watched as Diego entered the next room, then feeling as if he was having an outer body experience he looked down at his hands. They tingled with energy.

He slowly walked to the window, looking down at the street below.

It felt like his heart stopped and he’d been sucked into a vacuum. 

Everything went quiet.

There you were, walking down the street, the sun lighting up your face like a spotlight just for him. Stopping to tie your shoe, you stepped aside, excusing yourself to the person behind you.

You smiled apologetically. 

Something inside Five broke.

It was the same smile you’d given him.

It meant nothing.

The feeling of something special happening when he’d touched you was as fake as the rest of this!

Of all the people he would see in a time like this, it was you! The one person he’d been dying to see since he’d first laid eyes on you.

It was like some cruel fate, same as the one always chasing him, nipping at his heels with imminent death. Everything was just another reminder that no matter how much he wanted things to be different, he had nothing, and he never would.

He wanted to know what it was like to be loved by anyone even a little, but good things weren’t meant for him.

“Five!” Lila loudly whispered, getting even more upset. “We need to try something other than digging around in garbage cans, like that idiot in there! Give me your damn hand and let’s do this already!”

She began to come his way, hand outstretched.

Lila’s voice cracked with emotion when he looked down at it. “Five, I need you…your family needs you.”

Knowing full well that they had no idea what they were going to do about the impending Cleanse, Five’s brows pulled together, and he shook his head, no.

In a daze, still looking at Lila’s hand, the sight of it filled him with memories from the night before, all of them laced with the same sickness and regret he couldn’t escape. 

After a chance run in at the secret Keepers meeting, when a woman wearing a name tag saying Nancy, ran those same reaching fingers across a man named Jerome’s upper lip, tenderly wiping off the powdered sugar from his pastry, Five had thought of you and the one small chance he’d let go to have even a few hours of happiness by your side, just getting to know you.

Eyes moving to his brother, pain in his chest, in a flash of violet hued light, Five was gone, seconds before Lila could reach him.

M-Martyr

Five’s entire life was an example of sacrifice. So many times, he could have given up, or put himself first, but he didn’t.

Thinking of his family and their kids, stuck feeling like he had no other option, he stumbled out of his portal, his eyes scanning the musty subway platform and the train waiting for him.

N-Naïve

Five missed out on so many things that anyone should have the chance to experience during a life as long as his, and because of that, he struggled when navigating the nuances of anything normal.

There was no doubt that Five was full of wisdom, and he didn’t hesitate to pass that on or place judgment on others he saw as beneath him, but there was also an unmistakable childlike innocence behind his eyes, and an explosive immaturity in his outbursts and in his thinking that he could do this alone.

"How long do I have to suffer!" he screamed, his voice echoing down the subway tunnel, then out into the sky above as the light from the day and another apocalyptic world shone down on the filth covered subway steps in front of him.

Rubbing his grimy hands down the front of his tattered waist coat, he pulled out his journal.

It had been seven years, and he had been traveling the labyrinth of tracks, shooting from one timeline to another, each time trying to jump back to before Ben had been killed the first time.

He’d thought if he could just prevent that, it would finally fix everything.

Five knew his power didn’t work the same as before, but he thought it wouldn’t matter.

It did. It mattered big time, and he’d fucked up big time.

Most of the time, he couldn’t even jump backwards. Most of the time he’d climb the stairs, pull his hands together, trying to draw in the strength to do it, and he’d end up right back at the bottom of the steps, staring up at a world that was no more.

Some days, he’d prove he wasn’t a completely impotent imbecile. He’d reach out at the hands of time, yanking them backwards and he’d be thrown into the unimaginable ether that had always been his domain.

He’d find himself standing in a world with living breathing people again!

Racing to the academy, grabbing anything he could steal and stuff in his pockets or his mouth along the way, he’d feel a flicker of hope.

That never lasted long.

Never finding their real timeline, Five had been attacked, over and over once inside what had been his home, but clearly wasn’t anymore. Sometimes he wouldn’t even get that far, having found himself in a place that was at first glance not where he had meant to be based on floating cars or other bizarre things dotting the skyline.

Out of his mind with hunger and more mentally ruined than he’d ever been, he noted the marks on the floor, a long skid mark from something dragging and that there were three light bulbs out overhead. Fairly certain he hadn’t been there before, looking like a scraggly haired bum that was wearing some guy’s trashed business suit, Five jammed the notebook back in his pocket. Reaching in the other, he pulled out his pistol. Started talking to himself again, his feet stomped up the tiled stairs to the street.

“If I see that little fucker again, and he shoots at me, I swear this time I am going to go over there and choke the shit out of him,” he growled, referring to the fun of being shot at by another version of himself so many times before this that he couldn’t even remember how many times it had happened to him anymore.

His voice was cracked and hoarse, only adding to the pained sound in it as he cursed himself out. He was beginning to feel lightheaded again from lack of food and from how much his lungs were struggling to match up to the blood that rushed around his body from the mere effort of carrying himself out of the darkness.

When the first piercing sound of the other him’s rifle reverberated across the barren landscape, Five flinched, the full metal jacket projectile missing him by only a fraction of an inch as it blasted apart an already crumbling piece of concrete next to him instead.

Stepping forward, arm shaking as he held up his gun, Five screamed, "Just kill me, for fuck's sake, you asshole! I don't want to live like this anymore!"

Eye narrowed on his scope, the other Five, trying to survive, just like he had done when it was him, with no one but Dolores by his side to keep him sane, pulled the trigger like all the other Fives he'd come across did, for some reason, not even thinking twice about killing the first living person he’d seen in twelve years.

O-Oh, Shit!

“OH, Shit!” Five’s voice shrilly rang out as the solid copper tipped point of the projectile ripped through his left arm, tearing the muscle in his bicep clean through as it flew out behind him, zipping down the stairwell.

Refreshed clarity of the life and death kind hitting him hard and fast as the warmth of his blood drenched the inside of his sleeve, Five got down as far as he could, spinning towards the safety of the subway entrance. 

“At least I fucking hesitated when I saw the Handler!” he breathed, just as another bullet ripped through him, this time nicking bone in his right thigh.

He dropped to his knees.

“Fuck you, you crazy fucker!” he screamed.

He’d asked for it.

It was dumb, but he did.

He knew that he was also a crazy fucker in this situation but that did nothing to make him want to kill the other him any less.

Bleeding out in two different places, Five’s fingers clawed at the ground, and he growled in anger, forcing his body to get back up.

Half falling, half running down the steps, the soft tissue in his upper left shoulder suddenly felt like he’d been stabbed with a zillion fiery needles as the spinning force of the next bullet went straight through his back and out his chest.

Lunging for the doors of the train, Five fell into the closest seat, his eyes wide as he looked down at the crimson bloom spreading across his dress shirt.

P-Pain

As a murky curtain of darkness moved into Five’s narrowing field of vision, he clung to the metal support rail attached to his seat. He knew that feeling the rocking motion of the train as it raced to the next station was a good thing because it meant his powers hadn’t failed him yet, but it wasn’t much to hold onto. Each tiny shift in the track felt like it might kill him.

It hurt to breathe.

Even if he made it to the next stop, there was no way he’d be able to jump back to a time when there may have been a hospital and someone living and breathing to get him there. 

This was it, the end.

 ~~~

As you were disappointingly tossing another aluminum can with a broken seal, this one that had at one time held the syrupy sweetness of what you determined might have been peaches, the pile of rubble you were sorting through started to shift, the smaller chunks of debris skittering down the slope of junk.

“What the-”

Even more odd, you started to feel the ground vibrating under your feet, followed by the sound of a train screeching down the subway tunnel located in the subterranean level of your search area.

Your bag slipped off your arm, scattering your finds on the ground as you turned toward the subway entrance a few yards away.

This made no sense, so naturally you tried to rationalize what you were feeling and hearing.

There was no train.

There was no electricity.

There was no anyone, or anything anymore.

All around you, there was nothing but the remains of long ago destroyed buildings and the sun-bleached bones of the dead.

You lived in a world with no voices but your own, no horns honking, no smells of food carts wafting past.

“Impossible…” you breathed.

By the time you made it down the subway station’s cobweb infested stairs, the doors on the train that shouldn’t be there were opening. Hesitantly coming closer to what you were sure was evidence that you’d lost your mind, the humming of the train’s powerful engine slowed.

There was a feeling of static that shouldn’t be there in the dank air.

The hair on your arms prickled in warning.

Still, you came forward, your boots kicking up thick layers of dust. The fluorescent lights hanging above illuminated the tiny particles slowly swirling in front of you, making everything seem even more surreal than it already was.

The lights inside the train flickered as you came towards it.

You could see a pool of red liquid on the long fiberglass bench just inside the threshold. Even more ominous, there was an array of bloody handprints leading to the motionless blood covered body on the floor.

Creeping around to get a better look at the young man lying there, you kept your guard up, but other than him, the train looked empty. 

Looking down at him again, your breath hitched. 

He whispered your name just as his eyes fluttered closed.

You gasped his name back, then the lights went out.

Q-Quiet

“Oh, my God! Five!” you repeated, not believing your eyes as you dropped to the floor next to him.

He was conscious, but you could hardly see his eyes under his slitted lids, and his words came out so weak you almost didn’t hear them as he said, “You’re not supposed to know me.”

“What are you talking about!” you frantically cried.

His reply to that came as the quietest whimper.

“Five?”

He said nothing.

You lowered your ear to his slightly parted lips.

Thankfully, you heard the softest breaths coming out of him even though he was breathing so shallowly his chest didn’t appear to be moving at all.

Terrified, you did what you could to tighten the necktie that was already pinching the blood flow to his arm, and then you checked the belt he’d already tried to secure to his leg to stem the worst of that bleeding. Rolling him so you could lift the back side of his jacket, you saw the blood-soaked exit wound in his upper left shoulder blade. Having nothing but the scarf you had on to use as a bandage, you pressed it over the hole, wrapping it around him tight, then tucking the ends under his shirt and vest to add pressure. 

Five remained unconscious as you readied him, and he stayed that way as you began hauling him up the stairs, then outside where you loaded him on your cart.

With his legs dangling and his feet nearly touching the ground, it wasn’t the ideal form of transport, but he wasn’t going to make it if you stayed there, or if you left him and then came back with something bigger.

“Stay with me,” you begged, checking one more time to see if he was still with you, then you shoved forward, pulling him along as you thought about what he just said.

Of course, you knew Five. It all started after the war that ended it all.

Dressed in his Umbrella Academy uniform, Five had been wandering for the third day straight, looking for anything he could use to help him survive the apocalyptic hell he’d found himself in. Exhausted, he was about to give up and go back to his blanketed shelter, but then he spotted what he thought was another person sitting over in the toppled mess that was left of one of the city’s shopping centers.

The person was waving at him with the only arm they had left, but as Five came closer, disappointment filling him as he looked down at the lifeless face of a female mannequin, he heard something.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap! Tap! Tap!

The air around him swirled, ruffling his hair as it covered his young face in cinders. 

He stopped and listened, but as everything became still again the eerie quiet of mass death was all he heard.

He started to walk away.

Tap, tap, tap. Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap, tap, tap.

“Shit,” he breathed, stopping short as his mind processed the pattern. That wasn’t the sound of some random piece of metal flapping in the smoky wind.

Racing towards where he’d thought he heard the repetition of morse code, trapped in the darkness, under layers and layers of broken concrete, you started your distress call again, rhythmically moving a chuck of rock against one of the building's mangled trusses.

You were sure that you were going to die down there, just like everyone else that survived the initial blast only to find themselves buried, but then you hear something break through the quiet.

Someone was calling down to you through the cracks left in the massive pile of building material. You cried back, but it felt way too muffled for it to matter, but it did.

He kept calling out, telling you to look for anywhere you might see light, asking you all sorts of questions that at the time made no sense, like if there was room behind you or in front of you and how much, if you were pinned down, or if you could determine which way was up.

Then, one second you were alone in the darkness, dehydrated to the point of dangerously low blood pressure, your legs hardly having more than a few feet to move, and the next, you were blinded by a burst of light, something solid and warm was behind you and then you were weightless.

When your feet hit the ground back on level ground, your legs felt like jelly and your stomach flipped. 

Dizzily trying to adjust as you looked at the boy holding onto you upright, your eyes slowly moved from his, to the famous Umbrella Academy crest embroidered on his blazer. 

It couldn’t be…

The superpowered boy the world had known as Number Five Hargreeves had been missing your entire life, but there he was, looking about the same age as you even though that was way younger than he should have been.

R-Rain

Looking back at this older Five, his limp body rocking with each rotation of your cart’s wheels, your eyes blurred as tears streaked down your cold cheeks.

As if you didn’t know you had to hurry, the clouds in the west were moving in fast, meaning another storm was coming.

With the strap at your waist digging in hard enough that you could feel your skin rubbing raw, you forced your body to move faster. “Come on!” you roared, gritting your teeth with the effort of moving the weighted down cart over another deep washout in the road.

Years ago, Five had taken you down that same road. 

You could still see it that morning, Five running back to your campsite, his straight white teeth flashing in the sun as he smiled with boyish excitement that made your cheeks feel warm.

Talking about a mile a minute, he told you that he’d found a structure that wasn’t completely ruined, and by some miracle, attached to it, there was even a greenhouse that still had most of the glass hanging in its windows. Even better, inside it there were all kinds of bags filled with unspoiled seed.

After years of fighting the elements and starvation together, you had found your first break from the burdens of the apocalyptic world you were stranded in. 

If you could just get him back there now, it would be okay. 

It had to be.

Your breaths were becoming more and more labored as you went, only becoming worse as you thought about the last day you were with Five. 

That was over five years ago.

It was midsummer. You had been with him at the home with the greenhouse attached to it for several years at that point.

That night, like he always did, Five was sitting at the kitchen table, running over his numbers. He was getting close; he was sure of it. You were both going back very soon, and he was going to stop this all from ever happening. 

Scratching his face as he concentrated, Five unknowingly smeared a smudge of black ink from his fingers down the narrow bridge of his nose.

“Fucking, fuck, mother fucker,” he mumbled as he angrily scratched out nearly half a page of his equations.

Even though you knew he was mad, you couldn’t help it, your breath started coming out of you in little puffs of amusement.

With the heel of his palm dug into his forehead, Five looked up at you through the fringe of dark hair hanging in his eyes.

“A genius with your captivating use of the word fuck, along with you being the savior of the world is sure to drop some panties when we get back,” you’d teased. “I hope you don’t forget me when you have all those other people to glare at.” 

Not waiting for him to verbally retaliate, you turned and raised up on your tippy toes to put your dinner dishes up where the mice wouldn't walk all over them.

Within seconds, you felt the comforting currents of energy building in the air around you as Five blinked. The warmth of his mouth pressed against the back of your neck. 

Brushing your hair aside with his face, his arms wrapped around your midsection, possessively locking you in his high voltage embrace.

“Forget you? Not a chance,” he said, letting his lips tickle the shell of your ear. 

You wriggled and laughed as his fingers started crawling under your shirt. Hot palms claiming your breasts, he began a soothing circular motion, threading his fingers over your nipples until they were hard, and of course it all felt so good being taken over by him that soon he had you moaning his name.

“That’s right. I am all yours,” Five smugly hummed as he continued to pluck and pinch.

Your head dropped back against this shoulder as he kissed along your neck. Moving his awakening manhood against your butt, his fingers slid around your hip, going right between your legs.

“When it comes to panty dropping, your delicious cunt is the only one I’ll ever be interested in devouring, sweetheart,” he promised as his fingers moved faster. “I just need to get us back and then I am going to really destroy you with this thing.” 

To punctuate which thing he was referring to, Five he rammed his cock into your ass.

Mind going bananas over the dirty things Five was saying and doing, your body clenched around his fingers and your legs starting to tremble. 

So much had changed over the years.

You were no longer just two people walking the Earth, fighting to survive.

In that place together, you became each other’s everything.

The sun’s setting rays coming in from the window above the sink reflected Five’s beautiful face next to yours as he burrowed his face into your neck.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll never let you go,” he lovingly whispered.

And he didn’t let you go, not until hours later, when a rush of cool air coming in from the window replaced where he’d had his body warmly snuggled up behind you.

Rolling over, in the dim light of the bedroom, you could see Five bouncing around as he tugged on his discarded underwear. 

Hard droplets of rain started pelting the floor next to the bed, but before you could move to do something about it, Five blinked over, shutting the window. Just then, something outside loudly crashed into the side of the house.

When he quickly started to head out the room, your eyes widened with worry. “Where are you going?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” he chuckled. “I need to crank the windows closed in the greenhouse before it gets too windy. I just fixed the levers on the upper awnings, and I don’t want to have to go back to watering everything by hand out there when normally the lighter rains do such a nice job of it for me.”

You could hardly argue with that, or with what Five said next.

“Since you finally decided to let me hump the sweet fuck out of you, I have way better things to do with my free time then lugging around tiny watering cans,” he added, while shamelessly taking in the sight of you laying there naked, except for the thin blanket you’d started to modestly to tug in front of you. 

Already getting to you by being ridiculously sexy, standing there with his hair sticking up everywhere, Five gave you a cocky grin that would make the devil blush. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” he taunted. 

Still wiping the sleep from your eyes, you dreamily replied, “I won’t.”

Looking as wild and handsome as ever, hardly dressed, Five disappeared through the bedroom door, heading out through the townhouse’s back kitchen.

Suddenly, lightning flashed, and the entire room shook so hard you were sure the roof over the less habitable parts of the house might collapse.

You sprung out of bed to the sound of glass smashing.

Running after him, at first, all you could see were darkened plants carpeting the raised garden beds. 

Coming around the small table in the center of the greenhouse, fragments from the broken window above embedded in the soles of your feet, but you didn’t even feel it because Five was lying there on the cement floor, the rain drops dancing in the puddles of red all around him. 

The long shard of glass that had sliced his neck clean open was still laying in the palm of his hand as his empty eyes looked up, staring off at nothing.

Nearly falling down as your foot got stuck in a rut in the road, you knew you needed to keep your mind in the present, but you couldn’t. 

There was blood everywhere! 

That was just like this Five! With him dying as he lay there on the floor of that train!

A cry that was part anger, part anguish crawled out of your throat as you turned, looking back at him on your cart.

“Please say something,” you begged, not sure if he was dead or not because he hadn’t moved or made a noise. “Five!” you screamed, when he didn’t respond. 

The first icy drops of rain began to hit your face.

Then, just as you were going to run back there, Five quietly moaned your name as he slowly lifted his arm, pointing a finger at the sky. “You and the moon in the same timeline, makes sense…both always just out of reach for guys like me,” he said, choking on what sounded like a laugh.

On the verge of full hysterics, trying not to think about the horrors of what happened before, or what that moon and timeline stuff was all about, you dug the toes of your boots in, pushing off the broken blacktop as the deep purples of twilight disappeared in the blanket of angry clouds.

It was raining hard by the time you got back. By then you were both soaked, and Five’s complexion was cast in a deathly gray that made your stomach sink with bottomless dread.

S-Stitches

Other than that odd comment, Five remained mostly out of it as the cart bumped and bounced along on the debris-filled road, but as you lugged him inside almost an hour later, he woke up, full alert.

“FFFFUUCK!” he growled as you pulled him upright with his right shoulder under yours, lifting him.

Dragging his bad leg, you both staggered the few feet it took to get to the front door.

“I am sorry,” you breathed as you lugged him inside, kicking the door behind you to a continuous chorus of his breathy ‘fucks.’

A few seconds later, moving across what at one time had been the home's parlor but now served as the bedroom as well, collapsing on the bed, Five’s wet hair fanned out on the pillows.

Rushing over to place a fresh pile of wood on top of the dying embers in the hearth, Five’s face rolled to the side, watching you as he listlessly took in his shadowy surroundings.

Turning towards the adjacent kitchen area to get the medical supplies you needed, his eyes followed you again.

“Dolores?” he croaked. 

Not done washing your hands yet, you turned. As you figured, he was looking at the mannequin sitting at the kitchen table, but for some reason Five looked oddly confused by the sight of her.

“I am sorry, Dolores,” he said, his voice quivering. “I tried. I really did, but it had been so long, and before that, it was- You know I was try- I was so fucked up. And I- I just couldn’t move on and I- They needed me and I-"

“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay,” you said, trying to calm him as you rushed back, setting your supplies on the bedside table. 

Not stopping, your hands quickly moved over him, undoing the necktie on his left bicep so you could work his jacket off and remove his soiled dress shirt and vest. 

Replacing his makeshift tourniquet, you lifted his right hand, placing a wad of gauze in it before pushing it down over the bullet hole just below his left clavicle. “Try to keep pressure on that if you can. You lucked out. That one missed your lung, but I need to pull these down to see what’s going on with your leg,” you said, having already unzipped his fly, your hands on his hips waiting for his consent.

Five nodded, so you undid the belt cinched around his upper thigh.

Carefully pulling down his blood-soaked pants, not far down you gasped, and not because he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Who did this to you?!” you asked, slipping the leather strap back around his leg to pinch off the blood flow again.

“An even more fucked up version of me did it back in the wrong timeline I landed in before this one.” 

Something in your already tense expression must have changed to something much worse because Five’s dazed looking eyes moved away, looking at Dolores again.

“I’m my own worst enemy,” he said, deliriously trying to laugh about it before he continued to ramble things that made no sense. “That day you fell into me on the train, you were being so nice. I felt… I was- I don’t know… I wish I had at least had the courage to accept your offer to buy me a coffee. I wanted to, but I didn’t think I should. All I ever wanted was to have something like that in my life. Someone to talk to, someone to be even just my friend.”

His eyes misted over.

“I blew it, but it didn’t matter anyway. Everything went to shit. My powers don’t work right! I have been trying to get back for seven fucking years and I can’t, and that timeline is ending in a few hours anyway. Everyone was counting on me, and I failed them again.”

Before he said all that, you knew in any normal circumstance it would have been impossible for the Five laying on your bed to be the same one that was buried out in the yard, but your heart wanted to believe differently so badly. 

He looked exactly like him.

He’d known your name. 

He knew the mannequin neither of you were willing to leave behind, because if not for her, he’d have spent a life alone and you would have died.

But he wasn’t your Five. 

Looking even more upset than you were getting about all this, he kept on trying to explain things, telling you about this other world he had been in, and something called ‘The Cleanse.’ 

Wiping the mess of blood off his cold skin, you smeared antiseptic around the jagged edge of the hole in his thigh. Not knowing what else to do to prepare him, you soothingly shushed him. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay, Five. We will figure it out.”

You wanted to believe that, but you didn’t even know if he’d make it through the night.

Popping some long-ago expired pain pills in his mouth, then lifting a glass to his lips, Five swallowed your offering with no question, half the water going in, and the other half running down his chin.

As you pulled on a pair of sterile gloves, his fingers brushed against the side of your leg. "How do you know me?” he quietly asked. “I never told you my name and you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Bite down,” you ordered, ignoring that question as you placed a rolled towel in front of his mouth. 

Again, he listened, biting down. 

“You are lucky the bullets that hit your arm and chest went right through you and didn’t hit anything important, but the one in your leg is still in there. I need to get it out before I stitch this one closed, and if you think it hurt when that other you filled you with lead, get ready, because something tells me this is going to be much, much worse.”

Lifting your sanitized surgical tweezer, you lowered the long-pointed ends to the seeping wound in his leg.

Not even close to the casing you needed to reach, Five was forcing air through his nose at a panicked pace and his legs were starting to shake.

Pressing down on his knees, you held him as still as possible as you dug deeper.

As the tweezers sunk into his flayed skin, kicking out, Five howled through the cloth in his mouth, “Ffff-rrrrrrrr-ffffuuuuCCCCCKKK!” 

“Almost there,” you breathed as you felt the end of your tweezers tapping against something hard. 

A few painful seconds later, after pulling the lump of metal back through Five’s torn muscle tissue, you dropped the bloody chunk of metal in the bowl on the table, then went for the needle and thread you’d already prepped. 

“This is the worst one. The others won’t be as bad,” you assured, moving along gently as possible, with the point of your needle pulling through the mangled edge of his broken skin.

After the third stitch, as you began to pull Five’s skin together, his entire body started to quake so hard you had to move over, sitting yourself on top of his knees to keep his legs down.

“Just a few more,” you said, determinedly biting down on your lower lip as he brought both arms up, grasping the rungs on the headboard with a white knuckled grip. 

Two more stitches, and one more pull, and Five’s sweat covered chest was heaving. The faintest sound, like the squeak of a small animal crept out from between his clenched teeth. One more pull and his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went completely limp.

T-Touch

Fevered nights turned into long worry filled days and you never left Five’s side unless you had to. Cleaning his wounds, and then his entire body, no modesty allowed in the state he was in.

Five was entirely at your mercy just like once, long ago, you were at his. 

As he lay there with no shirt, and no pants on, covered in a mound of heavy blankets that smelled cleaner than anything he’d slept on in seven years, unable to avoid it any longer, you explained why you knew him. 

You didn’t even come close to telling him all of it, but still, you could see that what you did say didn’t settle well.

Brining another spoon of thin soup to his lips, stopping you short, Five shook his head. “I don’t deserve this,” he quietly whispered as the shutters rattled against the windowpanes in the cold wind that blew outside.

Moving closer, you set the bowl down. Gently as possible, you pressed a cool cloth to Five’s sweat covered brow. He leaned his face into your hand, whimpering.

Five may not have been starving from hunger like he was the last time he’d found himself stuck in the apocalypse, but the things he’d told you happened to him proved that for his entire life, he’d been starved of almost any kind of touch from someone other than people who wanted to hurt him.

After he’d laid it all out there, you realized helping him wasn’t going to be as easy as closing his wounds. His life started the same as the Five’s you had known, only his took many different turns, all of them bad, leaving him a broken man in the body of a boy again. Then, him saying that he'd lived nearly a lifetime alone with no one there for him but Dolores wasn’t even the worst of it.

That wasn’t what killed his spirit.

In his own words, even before that, he had all but given up, and he regretted that part of his life more than anything. He’d mistakenly pushed his family away. He said that there wasn’t a day as he rode his time travel train to nowhere that he didn’t think of them, and you, all the while wishing so badly he was able to go back and do everything differently. 

Laying down next to him, curling your body around his as much as you could without hurting him more, Five’s body trembled, trying to heat itself as the infection gnawing at him raged.

“None of this was your fault, Five,” you whispered as you watched his face twist with pain.

The fire crackled, the only sound filling the room as you felt for his hand, your fingers slowly running across his torso until you found it at his side. 

You threaded your fingers around his. “Just keep fighting, okay?”  

Shivering, he squeezed your hand back.

U-Unexpected

It was the start of summer, and the sun was shining in from above as Five sat at one of the chairs pulled up to the table in the greenhouse. Breathing in, his lungs filled with the sweet smell of hundreds of ripening strawberries.

It had been months since those first pain-filled nights, and as the days passed it was becoming harder and harder for him not to lose himself to the growing contentment he was feeling.

It was entirely unexpected, but then again, so were you.

Like the twist of fate that made you stumble into him that day on the train, like something out of a dream, there he was listening to you obnoxiously singing along to the CD boombox sitting in the next room. 

‘Y o, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want-’

The selection laying around was slim when it came to CDs that weren’t too warped to play, but watching you shake your booty as you danced around the kitchen made Five totally forget that he didn’t like pop songs.

‘If only I could keep finding batteries that fit the radio… ’ he silently mused while fighting the urge to start belting out the girl empowered lyrics with you. 

Five had an endless supply of scenarios running around in his head of how this morning could go, only one of them was him coming in there, sweeping you off your feet while he sang the blaring lines about making it last forever as he also slammed his body down and wound it all around on yours.

‘You gotta, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta!’ you sang, waving at him as you reached for another handful of green beans to snap.

Thinking about how just a smile from you made him feel hot, and how much he wanted to be your lover, and how he sounded nothing like you or the Spice Girls when he sang, Five stretched his bad leg under the drape of the tablecloth. His muscles still complained but the dull ache was nowhere near what it had been, and even better, he could walk without needing you to help him, or without needing a cane.

Looking over at Dolores who was sitting across from him, Five’s smile soured. “I hated that cane,” he quietly grumbled. “All I needed was a monocle to go with it and I’d have looked like some younger alternate universe jackass version of that monster.”

‘Reginald was many things, an alien included, but in the end, he did try to help you, and you in no way looked anything like him with your cane,’ Dolores reminded him.

Averting his eyes from hers, Five decided it was not worth arguing with her. If he kept it up, you were for sure going to hear it and he didn’t need that happening again. You’d been very understanding when he’d feverishly admitted way too many things about his relationship with Dolores, but…

Yeah. 

Sipping the herbal concoction you’d so sweetly brewed him that morning, Five looked down at the old notebook sitting there. It was filled with equations that were very close to getting the math right for getting back, only he was not the one that had done them.

No. He was not that Five, and at the age of 20, like that Five had been when he almost figured it out, he himself at that same age was nowhere near it. At that age, he almost died of dysentery. 

Five looked down at his own journal filled with scribbled notes about stains on floors, broken vending machines and burnt-out light bulbs. 

Spreading his fingers, palms warming in the sun, just the thought of blinking filled him with that familiar buzz of energy he used to live for. But no matter how many times he tried to blink himself even a short distance across the room, he’d still find that it didn’t work that way anymore, and then he’d be flung out of his purple-colored portal into the subway tunnel where you’d found him.

Five pulled his hands back in his lap and slipped the strap back around the leather journal, closing it as he tucked it away.

He couldn’t get back on that train. 

“The only thing I can promise you if we get on there, is that we will be lost,” he’d told you when trying to explain it. He could do that to himself again, but he couldn’t do that to you.

He felt horrible about it, but you never pushed him on it. You never blamed him. You always said it was okay.

He didn’t get it.

Then, after coming back to the house a week ago from another failed jump, something happened. Hearing him kicking stones along the road as he cursed like a maniac, you dropped your garden trowel, ran over, and hugged him.

Smiling up at him, you said, “Five, you need to stop this. You are breaking my heart all over again by looking so pouty all the time.”

Five knew you cared about him. He knew you cared about the other him, but past your caring about either of them in a way that was more than survival based and simply supportive and platonic in nature, that he couldn't figure out. 

You’d told him so many things about the years you were with the other him, but when it came to the details, he could tell you were holding back.

Not sure what to do about it, but knowing exactly how he felt about you, that afternoon in the yard, not more than a few feet away from his own grave, Five had hesitantly let his hand move up your back, hugging you back. He’d never done that before.

He figured, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it wasn’t like you weren’t already intimately familiar.

You’d held him before…

You’d seen him at his worst, fully exposed, laying there in a bloody mess of tears.

He’d told himself that desperately clinging to the person that meant everything to him, even if he’d fallen hopelessly in love with them was normal. Right?

Fuck, he knew it wasn’t… and neither was having to roll himself out of bed almost every night, taking off like a creeper in the night under the pretense that he needed to take a piss, when really he needed to take care of other personal business involving him grasping his dick.

Worried about him, you’d come outside to check on him more than once, and you’d come very close to busting him beating his meat, but Five wasn’t about to stop sleeping by you if you were willing to keep letting him, even if that meant he was constantly waking up hard with his hands on parts of your body that they shouldn’t be touching.

Trying not to think about that, and if you noticed him accidentally doing that or not, instead, as the sunny sky shown down on you holding him like he was a big man baby, Five tried to focus on the feel of your head resting on his chest and how you were soothingly playing with the hair dangling at the nape of his neck. 

Of course that wasn’t really helping, and because of that, he totally missed that you were up to something more than indulging him like you usually did.

Seemingly totally unaware of what you were doing to him, other than that you were turning him into a worthless puddle of goo, sneakily reaching up, you aggressively started ruffling his hair into a chocolatey nest of fuzzy tangles and unruly waves.

Shocked by the unprovoked attack, as you pivoted away from him, looking about as tickled as you could be over how easy it was to get him, Five’s mouth opened, but nothing came out, and that got you really laughing.  

“Oh my God, Five, I love you!” you breathlessly teased.

“Whhh-ahh…?” 

Taken by either his inarticulate reply, or at how ridiculous he looked, Five wasn’t sure, you came back to him, looking up at him sympathetically. “Five, beating yourself up over this isn’t going to change anything.” You gently brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “Maybe let it go for a while and just try to live a little. You deserve that.”

With that, you leaned in, your lips feather soft as they pressed against his cheek, then you walked away, leaving him dying to kiss you back.

V-Voracious, a wanting, devouring, feeling emotions to an intense degree

After that day, and the many others that came after your spicy Spice Girls kitchen bean snapping show of cuteness, Five did let himself live a little more, and you teased him even more, oftentimes tickling him into submission, and to him, it seemed like you might be doing it for nothing other than the joy of watching him squirm. But maybe not.

As you smiled at him from the other room, Five felt what had become his normal feeling of butterflies in his stomach and that pitiful aching in his chest. Doing the daily domestic things, like watching you change the bedding as he busied himself in the greenhouse, he could almost forget about all the bad things that had happened.

His family were out there, yet not. They were frozen in time as far as the space time continuum and his fucked subway time travel loop were concerned. It had been almost eight years since he’d left them, only hours from facing their demise, but to them, if he could get back, they wouldn't even know that he wasn't there to begin with.

In many ways, they were gone, not him, and it had been that way for so long.

If Five could have gotten back, it would start all over. He’d have hours to figure all this out, but he had nothing figured out in the way of helping them. That should have tormented him incessantly like it had before, but now, feeling like he had no other choice but to accept this fate, the last thing on his mind when he looked at you was the Cleanse, or other timelines that were about to be destroyed.

Even more crazy, he didn’t hate himself the way he used to and that was because you didn’t hate him for any of it.

Also, crazy, if he didn’t think you might knee him in the nards, he had half a mind to come over there and toss you on that mattress and show you that you weren’t the only one who knew how to play dirty.

He may not have been able to do anything to help his family or the rest of the world, but fuck did he want to show you he still had some fight left in him by putting those old bed springs to the test, rocking his hips into you to the beat pumping out of the tiny speakers sitting on the table behind him.

Watching you bend over to pick up your growing pile of linens, Five’s smile grew. When you disappeared from view, he called out your name. “Hey, why don’t we leave this work for later? Come out here and join me. I’ll let you beat me at a game of chess, and you can even use the unicorn charm as your queen this time.”

Coming around the corner, you dropped the laundry on the floor and shook your head at him. “I’m the one that lets you win, and we both know you are the magical unicorn around here,” you said, pelting him in the chest with a large berry you just picked from one of the bushier plants near the door.

“Sure,” he mockingly drawled, as he began to water the plants again. “You know I love magically fooling around with this cute little watering can all day because I aim to please the lady of the house.” 

Five grinned. 

“You know…with me being pretty much worthless otherwise," he added, not even looking as he pegged you in the boob with a berry.

The song playing ended and another 80’s song about rains in Africa started. Using the music to cover your footsteps, from the corner of his eye, Five still saw you coming. Just as you were about to come up behind him to rumble up his hair until he looked like an asshole, he turned, tipping the watering can over your head.

The dribbles he let escape ran down the length of your hair, a few of them raining down on your perfectly stunned face.

“Oops,” he said, grinning even wider. 

“Was that necessarily?” you asked, trying to scowl at him, but clearly having trouble doing it.

“Yes,” he smugly replied as he casually set the watering can down.

“Why?” you challenged, your eyes following his every move.

“Because,” He reached out, slowly running a finger across your wet cheek as he leaned in, whispering in your ear. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could get you wet.”

You no longer looked like you were about to burst out laughing.

Five knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.

He glanced up at the boarded-up window above, then his eyes met yours again as he quietly said, “I’ll never stop being sorry that I am not him, but-”

“Five-” you started to argue, no doubt planning to tell him it wasn’t his fault that he died and that now he couldn’t get you out of there.

“Shhhh,” he uninterrupted, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. “I’m not done.” His smirk softened. “I know he loved you, and that’s because I love you. The question is, do you love me too? Like this?” he clarified, lowering his chin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“Five,” your voice cracked with emotion. 

Your lips pressed against his. 

The softest sound crawled out of his throat, moving up through his nose as Five kissed you back, innocent, and beautiful in his not knowing exactly how to do it but doing it anyway. His hand moved behind your head as he parted his lips, letting his mouth move against yours, his tongue just starting to play along your teeth, pushing for more.

From there, with your hands reactively moving up into his hair, pulling him to you even more, his kiss grew deeper and more desperate.

Coming up for air several minutes later, you breathlessly whimpered, “I love you so much, Five. I always will. I just didn’t know if you wanted this with me. You kept saying things that made me think maybe, but then you-”

Hearing that, he frantically started pressing kisses down your neck, then down to your shoulder. “Fuck yeah, I wanted this,” he said as he took your breath away. His trembling hands played at the hem of your shirt before he suddenly stopped and broke away, peering at you.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hands tentatively sliding up over the cotton covering your back as his excited smile exposed more of his charmingly boyish dimple.

Your reply came with you suddenly lifting the material in his way all the way up over your head. 

Speechless, Five’s intense gaze fell over your naked upper body.

“Holy shit, I was not expecting that,” he breathed. Recapturing your lips a few seconds later, he kissed you two more times, then, still trying to kiss you, he mumbled, "I have imagined doing this for so long, just ask the flowers by the front door that have been watching me jerking off every night. They know just how badly I wanted to see these perky tits.”

You started to giggle over that new piece of information, but that quickly turned into you moaning into Five’s mouth from the feeling of him sliding his fingers over your nipples. Encouraged by that, he continued with his ministrations, slowly and softly caressing you until you moaned even more.

When he released your lips, you let out a small whine at the loss, but you were quickly placated as Five moved his kisses along your jawline, stopping for just a moment to nibble on your ear.

“Gah- ahhh,” you gasped, it felt so good, and to that, Five bit down on your lobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he pinched your nipples at the same time.

You squeaked, your legs clenching together even tighter.

Five let out a breathy laugh as his lips moved over your ear, seductively whispering, "Was that good?"

“You really are still the same cocky little shit you always were, aren’t you?” you shot back.

Nodding his head yes, Five leveled his lopsided grin at you. “Probably worse,” he admitted

“Take your shirt off, “ you demanded, hardly able to believe how silly and hot he was being.

Happily obeying, Five tore off his emerald green sweater that matched his eyes, tossing it over with your shirt on the floor.

“Better?” he questioned.

“Much,” you replied as your fingers began to graze his skin, exploring the hard expanse of his toned chest, down his stomach, delighting in the lean ‘V’ of muscle leading towards his hips.

As your fingers played along the dark, almost jet black trail of hair leading into his pants, dipping below his waistband, then coming back up so you could rub your hand over his crotch, Five shuddered under your touch, so you increased the pressure. 

“So sensitive,” you teased.

Ignoring that taunt, his left hand quickly found your breast again and his other clamped onto your ass, giving it a hard smack before he suddenly yanked your skirt up.

“You have really been enjoying fucking with me,” he laughed, then said, “and what the fuck is this song talking about!”

With his hand under your skirt, his fingers moved slowly, massaging his burning handprint, and he didn’t stop punishing you there. Five’s fingers stopped just shy of the heat between your legs. There, he rubbed the elastic panty line lying along your groin as he smiled like a fucking jerk.

“This song is talking about a man and his love for a girl, but he’s torn between her and the continent he loves, and please, Five! Please don’t stop!” you begged.

“There we go!” he laughed. “Just what I needed to hear. Keep it coming, honey.”

With that, memories of another Five being ridiculously obsessed with you getting you to cry out his name, blended with this one and his equally interesting quirks and many miss understandings about things that to you seemed obvious. 

Before you could come up with an appropriate comeback, your brain gave out on you because Five’s fingers slid under the thin panty barrier he’d been toying with, moving between your folds, determinedly pressing into your clit.

“Fuck, you are wet. I guess watering you worked,” Five mockingly groaned as he gently kissed the side of your neck, letting the smallest scrap of his light facial hair tickle you. 

Giggling and squirming even more, he gave your neck a little nip. 

“Hold still, damn it, I am trying to finger fuck you to this stupid song,” he laughed.

Hand still jammed in your underwear, Five drew you back with him, the backs of his legs bumping one of the chairs next to the small garden table.

Taking your hand off the hard bulge in his pants, you moved it with your other, shoving him down in the chair with enough momentum to make the legs cry out in complaint as they slid across the concrete. Not stopping, you crawled over him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“I missed you acting all adorable like this,” you said as cheekily as possible, while laughing at his lustful expression of bewilderment.

Not about to be out done, guiding you up against him even tighter, Five wrapped your lips in a warm kiss that quickly escalated into a heady, deep kiss. It didn’t take long just doing that, and you were both breathing much harder than normal again.

Seductively pulling at your lower lip with his upper teeth, Five looked up at you with his mossy eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. 

“From that first day I was with you on the train, you were all I wanted. I didn’t even know what I’d missed until then. I thought I did, but not really,” he said. “I don’t know why or how this is happening to us over and over, but I know one thing for sure and that’s I am never letting you go again.” 

That was almost exactly what Five said to you the night he died. 

Jolting you from the moment, a near paralyzing fear hit you like another slap in the ass, but then, just like so many times when Five touched you, the next time he brought his lips to yours, your entire body tingled with a whole different kind of all-encompassing feeling.

The air felt alive. 

As you eased your body back into his hand that was tracing lines up and down your spine, Five’s lips closed around one of your taut nipples and his hand lowered between your legs, moving again.

“Yesssss,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his, driving your bottom down against his erection.

Pinned under your weight, Five whimpered and his cock throbbed with so much need he felt like he might come in his pants. Not wanting that, his fingers moved faster, slipping up and down in the cramped space of your panties, and that got you to let up on him, which was both a good and bad thing.

You arched your back as he flicked one of your tits with his tongue. Scraping his teeth along your peeked flesh, he sucked it back inside the heat of his mouth and you ground down on him harder than before. 

Unable to take it, Five’s mouth popped off. “Fuck. Keep. Doing. That!” he groaned as he started with your neck and earlobes again, trailing sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.

Flipping your skirt completely out of the way with a whip of his wrists, Five slid your panties to the side with a quick tug, then the tip of his index finger gently started pushing into your hole.

“Mmmm fff, Five,” you whined, as he moved deeper inside you.

“So…fah-king tight,” he breathed, equally taken by the feel of your body fighting him. He looked up at you with adoring eyes, his worry coming out in his soft words. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you said, your body opening for him more and more each second a part of him was becoming a part of you.

Once he was past knuckle deep, you started to work your body over the hard length of his trapped cock again, totally destroying his pants as his finger started to fuck into you, in and out, hooking and pulling, doing anything and everything he could to get you moving faster.

“Oh, ffff,” you cried as Five, with no warning, added a second finger and then started to dip in and out at the same punishing rate as his thumb circling around your clit.

You pushed yourself against his hand, biting your lip as your body quickly coiled and tightened around him. “Fff-vvvv!” you cried. 

When your orgasm hit a moment or two later, your wet gasps filling the greenhouse, he couldn’t believe it.

Your forehead fell against his. You slowly unclenched your fingers, your fingernails leaving half-moon marks all over his shoulders.

“Did I do it?” Five excitedly asked.

Still hardly able to open your eyes, you nodded, panting, “Fuck yes you did. Fuck, Five…”

With his cock about to rip through his pants, Five pulled his fingers from your quivering cunt, bringing them to his mouth. Smiling as he tasted you, slowly licking a few more times for effect, he said, “I can confidently say that I have never done anything as amazing as that, and you taste so delicious I might never eat anything else ever again.”

Laughing at the absurdity of that considering you knew just how much Five liked to eat actual food, and he could in fact do the unimaginable by traveling through time, even if he couldn't do it the way he wanted to anymore, on doe like legs, you climbed off of him, letting your panties slip to the floor.

“Your turn,” you said, straddling your magical unicorn, your hands already starting to unzip his pants to the sight of his approving gaze of god-like sexiness staring back at you.

Carefully pulling him from the confines of his pants, you’d only given Five’s cock a few gentle tugs and his smug expression was gone. 

“Thank you for this, fuck, thank you,” he quietly repeated, his eyes about rolling back in his head as you lazily pumped him, making him leak even more glistening fluid from the tip of his cock.

Lost in what you were doing to him, Five fingers dug into the seat on the wooden chair.

“That feels so fucking good,” he groaned as you twirled your finger over him, spreading his precum to make your hand move faster as it dropped down over the long veins feeding his impressive length.

When you moved forward, guiding the thick head of his cock through the swollen valley between your legs, Five couldn’t take it anymore. Frantically pushing his heels into the floor, he reactively tried to thrust upwards, but it did him little good because he wasn’t inside of you like his mind was telling him he was.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you warned. “Slow down, old man. I’ll get you there, I promise. I want your first time to be special,” you lovingly cooed.

“This is pretty fucking special. I have waited over 70 years for this,” he growled, trying to hump up into you again but clearly only doing it that time to watch your tits bounce.

Shaking your head at the craziness of it all because Five looked nothing like his real age despite him being that old, with one hand on the back of his neck, your feet fell flat on the floor, allowing you the leverage you needed to ride him. With his drizzling tip pushing all the way up to the height of your belly button, you lined him up, then started frotting, pressing the hot length of his cock against your swollen clit in a sinful game of slip and slide.

“That’s right, baby. Let me fuck you,” you praised, already feeling that lustfully addicting pleasure rising in you again. Yanking his hair to further the fun, Five moaned, but he didn’t fight it, and that only turned you on even more, because you knew how badly he wanted to.

Five Looked like a broken angel fallen from heaven. His beautiful eyes were cutely drowsy as he watched you fucking him, the sweet feel of your sex, your body rocking in his lap, all of it felt like nothing he had ever felt before.

The fall sun was shining down.

The heat building.

The strangest choice for a fuck song was playing on the CD player, the band Todo singing their topical ballad as your bodies worked together to the inspiring rhythm of the drums.

♫  I bless the rains down in Affff-ri-cAAA! 

Five shut his eyes.

The pure love and acceptance he was feeling made the shadow of doubt hanging over him from his own death and from his horrible past feel like it couldn’t touch him.

“Five, look at me,” you ordered.

He did.

One look at you as you rode, unable to fight it, he let out a guttural groan of unrestrained pleasure. Unclasping his fingers from the chair, he ran his hands down, under your ass, lifting and pulling with you, making you move your hips and hand pinning his cock down even faster as you fucked him against you.

He was trapped and so were you, but Five felt anything but trapped as your thighs quivered and the tension built more and more with each pass of his cock thrusting up through your pussy lips.

“Kiss me. Please. I need you to kiss me,” you begged, your words breathless as you worked hard to give him the ride of his life while he sat there like the king of the world, watching you buck and pant.

The second Five’s lips touched yours, you locked your fingers on him tighter, pulling him as close as possible. 

Your nails scratched along his scalp making him fuck up into you harder. 

The chair groaned in protest.

You brokenly whimpered into his kiss, and again, Five felt that strangely familiar burst of energy in the air. 

Your head flung back. You’d reached the edge and tumbled over it again; this time he knew it and he’d never felt closer to you.

He cursed a breathy gasp, his lips parted against your chest as he pushed his pelvis up and down at the same faltering pace as yours. Pulses of his release, a creamy white heat of pent-up pain and love started to spread against the silky expanse of your body as Five moved his cheek next to yours. 

Mouth against your moistened skin, he groaned and hissed. “Ahhhffuuuuucccccckkkkk-ffffff-”

A sticky mess between you as his balls twitched under him, still out of breath, Five peered up at, grinning like a fool.

Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly deserve more, you brought your hands to his face, running your fingers over his flushed cheeks as you tilted his chin up. “I love you, Five. It will always be you.”

You placed the softest kiss along his jaw, then down his sweaty neck. Five’s entire body trembled, as much from the gentle sensation of you showing how much you loved him with the touch of your lips, as in what it meant to him hearing you say that.

You said it again. “I love you, Five.”

Tiny shivers danced up his spine as a low moan resonated deep in his throat. Your mouth continued to move over him. 

“I love you too.” He exhaled your name slowly as you moved your way back up to his lips, your fingers soothingly playing with his hair. 

Right then, no matter how many times you let him have this with you, Five knew he’d never get enough of it. 

As he told you, you were all he wanted.

Now, nothing else mattered. 

W-Why

Autumn days of sunlit leaves floating down from above passed by, and with them, Five’s mind and heart were at peace for the first time in his life. 

Nights with you in bed, hot breaths against each other’s skin as you explored new ways to love each other were everything to him. 

Laying on a blanket, under the stars as the white plumes of your breath made clouds of heat above you, Five was in heaven even if he was in a world of crumbling foundations.

He even had the moon this time.

It was perfect.

You had the greenhouse and a roof over your heads, but you still needed to scout for other food options. Just like the last time he was in the apocalypse, Five spent hours on end each day, searching for anything he could use to help get through the harder times. But now, as he wandered down the stairway into the old subway station he hadn’t been to in months, the pressure of getting back felt almost non-existent. 

Maybe he could trap something alive down there, he’d thought. Rats were awful but you weren’t picky, and neither was he, and rabbits had been hard to come by lately with the colder turn in the weather.

Just thinking about bringing a rodent in the house and acting like he slayed a dragon for you made him smile. 

You loved when he acted stupid, and he loved doing it for you.

Feet quietly moving across the debris filled landing, just then, when it felt like nothing was more important than finding new ways to make you smile, of course that was when fate decided to prove he was wrong.

Noticing a strange mark on the floor at the edge of the subway platform, one he’d never noticed before because the light down there was so bad, Five pointed his flashlight down. 

There was something scratched into the tile, and it was done so poorly he could hardly see it, but it was there, and it was no accident.

Bending down, he slowly traced the intricate circles and paralleling lines done in an interlocking pattern that suggested a mathematical projection of infinite sums, or better put, infinite outcomes. 

His heart sank as his finger cleared the grim from the interdimensional map, or that was what he’d suspected it was the first time he’d seen it tattooed on the chest of the ancient version of him that was dying in the paradox proof chamber back in the Sparrow’s timeline.

Looking around, he saw nothing else. Jumping down to the tracks, Five ducked his head below the small lip where the electrical lines were hung. There was a box that some of the larger lines fed into, and it was directly underneath where the sigil was placed. 

Reaching his hand up, blinding feeling around in the cobwebs and dead bugs, he felt something. 

“No,” he breathed, looking down at the leather-bound journal, his eyes rapidly moving over the pages. 

All of them were filled in, unlike the one he had back at the house. And even more shocking, this one showed the way to get back.

“Five?” you called out, coming down the stairs. 

“Yeah, down here,” he replied, quickly shoving the book inside his shoulder bag.

~~~

Stretching his toes under the sheets as his body came down from the feel of having his dick pushing down your throat, Five dreamily looked down at you nestled between his legs

“I love your hair, honey, but I like it best when it’s like that,” he teased as you looked back at him, stretching your jaw, your hair a total ball of fuzz ball from you romping around under the blankets.

You smiled. “Fuck you, Five.” 

“Fuck me, you say… Sure.  I am game to do that again, only it has to be roles reversed until I can get it up again.”

You rolled out of bed, escaping before he could pounce on you and throw his face between your legs. 

“Aww, come on. It won’t take long,” he whined, watching you trot away.

“I know,” you called back, blanket dragging as you tiptoed the cold floor out to the kitchen to get a glass of water from the cooled boiling pot on the wood stove. 

Coming back, you passed by the fireplace, tossing a few logs Five had brought in the night before. Moving on, you stopped at the bookshelf, eyeing up the selection that had grown substantially since Five had gotten there. 

Still lazily lying in bed, he smiled, knowing you were going to pick something and ask him to read it to you while you snuggled on him in bed until mid-day. He loved the bitter temperatures that had settled in because it meant time outside was limited and there was more time for this.

While crossing his arms over his head, looking around the little home that he shared with you, Five started to smile again. The shelves in the kitchen were covered with canning jars filled with the evidence of how hard you had both worked to prepare for the winter. While he was thinking about how the massive amount of work involved in living this way did nothing to diminish how happy he was, something over by you hit the floor with a thump.

Five hadn’t noticed you stepping up on a chair to reach the highest shelf, but you had. Now you were getting down, looking at what had fallen.

His heart was suddenly beating so hard it felt like it might rip out of his chest. Too late, he threw himself out of bed, snatching his pajama pants off the floor as he rushed over, one leg in, and one out of the cold flannel.

“What is this?” you questioned, rapidly turning the pages in your hands. “Five?” you said again, waving the notes you’d just found wedged behind the other books.

“It’s my journal,” Five said, still pulling up his pants as the worried line between his brows grew deeper.

“I know it is, but it’s not that one,” you said, pointing to the other on the table beside the bed. “This one is…It looks like you figured it out…. The key to the subway map is all filled in.” 

You quickly turned to the pages that Five already knew were there, the colorful triangles and circles and squares and numbers that had made no sense were all noted with his handwriting, explaining what they meant and how to navigate them. Trying to make help sense of it, you’d looked at it so many times, but like him, you’d gotten nowhere.

Five reached for the book, and as if you’d lost all your strength, the journal fell into his hands. Your voice tremored. “Where did this come from?”

“I found it under the edge of the subway platform, next to the tracks.”

“When?”

“Months ago,” Five flatly replied, his voice coming out steady, even if he wasn’t.

Your eyes glossed over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

As he looked into your hurt filled eyes, he felt like he was dying as he said, “You know why.”

“Five,” we can’t stay here pretending there isn’t something we can do,” you said, saying exactly what he knew you’d say.

“What can I do!” Five all but screamed, making you jump back, and that only made him look even more upset.

Ashamed that he’d just done that, his entire body shaking, Five’s hands came up, covering his face, the journal falling to the floor as he started to ramble, “I can’t lose you! I can't help them! I-” 

He breathed your name, much quieter before starting again. 

“If we go, there’s no telling what we’ll find back there. My family and I didn’t know what to do before I left, and I don’t know what to do now. Having you with me is the last thing I want if I go back to that place. Don’t you get it!” he cried, losing it again. “That timeline is just another like this one that will be destroyed, only this time, nobody is going to survive!”

“So this is it?” you quietly asked.

Five looked up and only then did he see the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Isn’t this enough?” he asked, his voice cracking.

You came closer. “Five, you will always be enough for me, but-”

When you didn’t finish the ‘but’ and instead chose to wrap your arms around him, Five sucked in a panicked breath, his entire body shuttering. 

Feeling worse, but slowly getting a handle on himself and what this meant, eventually Five forced himself away from the safety of your embrace. His voice lacked any signs of weakness from his melt down when he looked at you and said, “We are going back.”

X- X-factor, as in an exceptional quality or talent that sets someone or something apart. Not so much what the gang is displaying here.

Escorting you along the snow-covered sidewalk leading up to Diego and Lila’s house, trying to be optimistic, Five said, “Maybe they figured it out after all. Everything looks normal.”

Opening the door, Diego’s eyes widened as they moved from you to his brother. “What do you know? Five finally decided to join us and he’s not alone!” he called out just as Klaus came to join him in the entryway, shoving a handful of trail mix in his mouth.

“And who’s this,” he questioned, wiggling an eyebrow at you.

Five was still trying to introduce you when Lila came over interrupting. “Awwww,” she said, scowling at Five. “It looks like hell really did freeze over because you brought a real live, non-plastic date. You’ve clearly been busy, though not surprisingly busy doing nothing to help us figure this stuff out with Ben.”

“We don’t know where Viktor is, or Benny and his Jenny,” Klaus chimed in, “but that doesn’t mean this Cleanse stuff is happening. Dad lies all the time.” Looking puzzled, he looked down at the floor. “Actually, I don’t know what’s going on. Allison and Claire Bear just dug me up from a pet cemetery. I’m still feeling a little shaky about all that and for other reasons too, so I haven’t really been much help either.” 

He glanced at Claire, and she smiled. “It’s okay Uncle Klaus. One step at a time We’ve got your back.”

Coming your way, dressed in a track suit that way too small for him, Luther said, “Hi, I am Luther. Not sure if Five told you about me.”

“Five, told me all about you. It’s so nice to finally meet all of you,” you said, smiling at Luther, then Five, who was already looking like his head might explode.

Luther turned his goofy grin at Five, giving him a not at all discrete thumbs up as he whispered, but not quite enough that everyone else didn’t hear it. “Nice job!” Suddenly looking confused, he added, “Are you together, like together-together? Not that it matters, it’s just Lila is right. You don’t date, and we’ve never seen you with anyone other than Dolor-”

“Woopsie,” Allison said, walking past, smacking Luther on the back of the head.

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Five angrily spat, “She already knows about me and Dolores! And not that any of you give a shit about my life, but yes, we are together! I am madly in love with her and for some reason, she loves me back!”

“Ohhhh. I love this… When did all this happen?” Klaus excitedly asked, totally engrossed in the drama unfolding as he sat down on the couch with his bowl of trail mix on his lap.

“Recently.” Five heatedly replied. “And that wasn’t all I was doing, Lila!”

Five raised his voice as he glared at his sister-in-law but that only made her challenging smile even brighter.

“I have been gone for almost eight years,” Five raged at her. “I tried to use my powers to go back in time to save Ben but instead got myself trapped in the apocalypse again where I topped off that series of epic mistakes by getting shot by another me. I would have died if not for her being trapped in one of the apocalypses I ended up in, and believe it or not, that one was on me too! So go ahead, start lying into me about how this is all my fault! Sloane! Your discontent in marriages and your fucked up lives! The Cleanse! Everything! Let me have it. I have heard it all before!”

“I told you that you needed my help,” Lila irritatedly huffed, as she pulled a sticky chunk of red licorice off the front of her shirt.

As Five moved his bitter gaze to Luther, the big guy frowned. “I never meant to blame Sloane on you,” he said very sheepishly. He looked at the others for help but wasn’t getting any. “I am sorry… I was so… And I didn’t mean to-”

“Wait. Hold up…” Claire interjected from the sidelines where she’d been quietly watching the showdown. “You tried to save us, all by yourself?” She looked from her angry Uncle to her mom, clearly confused. 

Allison smiled at her daughter. “Believe it or not, you Uncle Five is the most selfless jerk you’ll ever meet, and he’s right. We have been pretty awful about things since he’s been back, and that’s because like him, we are jerks whose lives are a mess, but that is not his fault.” Turning to Five, she said, “We love you, Five, and I couldn’t be happier that you finally found someone, even if it was in a place you never should have been to begin with. Funny how that shit works. I can tell you all about it and Ray would too if he were still around, but…he’s NOT.” 

She raised her drink, pounding all of it as she flopped down on the couch next to Luther.

��I am sorry, buddy. I didn’t even know you were gone. We love you; you know that right?” Klaus said, coming in for a hug. 

Just then, totally taken off guard because he was looking at you grinning at him with that, I told you so look he knew was because you’d told him time and time again that his family love him, Five was ambushed by his ghost whispering brother’s smothering affections, double cheek kisses and all.

“I am so glad your apocalyptic badass woman saved you, little guy,” Klaus gushed as you started to giggle over what Klaus had just called you, and at Five trying to get away from Klaus’s impressively strong clutches.

Ducking out of his grip, just then, Grace came running in. “Uncle Five! You have to see what Mr. Pennycrumb can do! He can blink just like you.”

“Hey, kid,” Five breathed, coming down to her level to watch as she excitedly flew her electronic dog around extra fast, hiding him behind the Christmas tree before popping him back out again.

As soon as his daughter was done showing off, looking serious, Diego pulled Five to the side. Just as fast, you were surrounded by the rest of his siblings, having gotten pulled down between Luther and Allsion on the couch, with Klaus on the floor at your feet, all of them firing questions at you about your time with their brother.

Scrunching his lips in a way that made his dad mustache look extra dorky, Diego said, “That sounded bad, minus the badass chick saving you part. You okay?”

“Perfect,” Five shot back, trying to smooth the rumbles out of his suit. Giving up, he muttered a few curses, then hearing something about if you were married or not, he looked over at you, tensely flattening his lips as the muscles in his jaw tensed. 

He was about to angrily spout off on all of them again, but looking flushed by amused, you shook your head, warning him not to do it. 

About to lose his mind and not sure what to say about the marriage thing anyway, Five’s mouth snapped shut.

“Oh, my God!” Lila cackled. “I think I love her already,” she laughed, nudging Five in the shoulder before coming over to you, asking, “Do you have superpowers too, because the way you shut down that little ankle biter without saying a word was bloody brilliant. You have to teach me that trick!”

“Ahhh. No powers here,” you laughed. “I think Five and I just have a good understanding of each other.” You looked at Five, widening your eyes comically at him because you could totally see why he maintained that his family were a hard pill to swallow.

“So... I did the CIA thing,” Diego said, moving right along.

“And how did that go?” Five breathed, overwhelmed, but trying to dial it back for the kid’s sake and yours.

“It didn’t. Turns out, it’s not for me. Lila and I had a talk, and we are doing better. My life with them means everything, I just needed a reminder. Thanks for giving it to me,” he said, looking down at his oldest, who was sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Slapping Five on the back a second later, he asked, “So, are you still the oldest virgin alive, or did you guys S-K-R-E-W?” 

“That is not how you spell screw, dad,” Grace corrected as Diego pulled a condom package out of his wallet, then pulled open Five’s back pant pocket, stuffing it in.

“Just in case you need it, man,” he clarified as if Five didn’t get it. “Kids are great, but not sure you're ready for all that complicated stuff yet with you being a scrawny teenager still.”

“I am not a teenager!” Five raged, “I’m 26 for the 2nd fucking time, so that makes me 71! I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this, or you not getting that, but I am! And that means for a room full of people given powers not typically seen in any other humans, all any of us can claim is that we’ve excelled at being extraordinarily stupid! There is nothing exceptional about any of us! The world could still be ending in a few hours and Luther is over there shoving whole popcorn balls in his mouth!”

“Thaaairr-rrealleeegoo,” he mumbly defended

Unfazed by her dad being stupid or her favorite Uncle flipping out on everyone, Grace pointed at the TV screen, asking, “Is that Uncle Viktor hanging out with all those weirdos surrounding the mall?”

~~~

Hours later, blinking out of the way of the gigantic blob monster Ben-Jen thing, portal violently crackling, Five reappeared in the subway station, his back slamming back down on the cement as you landed on top of him, knocking the air out of him.

Heart racing as he choked on the air fighting to get back inside his lungs, with his useless gun still in his free hand, Five rolled over, pulling you up.

“I’m sorry,” you needlessly apologized, hardly able to walk as you clung to him. 

Your head was spinning from the jump, and from getting thrown out over the second-floor mezzanine by Luther just before an arm like appendage of the Ben-Jen Cleanse blob latched on to Five, who had just wrapped his arm around you to blink you out of there.

Not stopping, Five helped you inside the waiting train, the doors closing as he sat you down, and then he joined you, staring at the ground as he gently ran his hand up and down your back.

“I am not abandoning them,” he said, almost a whole minute later, finally looking up. 

“I know.” Feeling less green, you moved closer, lowering your head to his shoulder. 

“I can’t save them in any other way but by leaving. I need to buy us some time,” he explained even though he didn’t need to, you were there. You saw it all.

Viktor tried to pull the marigold from Ben, but it was too late. They all had fought back, but they were losing badly. Like Five had told you in the first days he was with you, they were never meant to win.

His head dropped back against the side of the train as it swayed, aimlessly moving through the tunnels.

Five couldn’t even begin to pay attention to the stops as they came and went, another gloomy station of nothingness, and then another, and then another. 

With no clue what to do, he sat in silence with your hand in his.

At some point, your mental exhaustion got the best of you. Slumping against him, you drifted off to the feel of his shallow breaths against your temple.

Y-You

“Five, what is this place?” you asked as your sleep filled eyes followed his towards the glowing sign that said, “Max’s Delicatessen.”

“I have no idea,” he breathed, cautiously stepping out of the train. 

At the unexpected sound of someone saying your name, Five pivoted, protectively throwing you behind him.

The dark-haired young man you hadn’t noticed was sitting on one of the benches near the tracks laughed, then he said, “Don’t worry. I mean neither of you harm, and to answer your question since he can’t. This is the place all of us end up at some point when our time is up. That’s if we make it this far. Most don’t.” 

Getting up, the suit-wearing stranger who was a mirror image of Five, folded his newspaper under his arm and strode your way, extending his hand. 

“Hello again.” He gave you a charming grin, his eyes mischievously sparkling. “It’s been a long time, but I see that your pretty smile hasn’t changed.”

You hadn’t been smiling, but now you were, and that only made the Five at your side look even more hostile.

Unbothered by that, the other Five turned on the heel of his shiny dress shoe, casually waving you along as he said, “Come inside. We need to have a chat.”

A second later the steel bell hanging above the door rang and at least a dozen more Fives inside the deli looked your way, all of them eyeing you with open interest.

The Five you were following sat down in one of the open booths in the middle, gesturing for you to join him. Still shocked into a silence that was making you all the more nervous, Five moved into the opposite seat, pulling you in next to him on the inside of the booth.

The Five that had greeted you flagged over a waiter version of himself as he rushed by, and he swiftly leaned in, filling the cups in front of everyone.

No sooner was it poured, than next to you, Five picked up his white porcelain cup, tipping the entire contents back in one long slug. 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve had coffee this marvelously shitty, I take it?” The Five across from you chuckled as the still hovering waiter came back around. As he refilled your Five’s cup, his fingers brushed past yours on the handle of your mug.

“Need some sugar or some cream in that, sweetheart?” he asked, as the dimple in his cheek deepened.

Your Five turned his glare at the Waiter Five. “She can get her own cream, so fuck off, and yes…” he hissed at the Greeter, “It’s been a while since I had coffee.” 

Five was looking at the Waiter like he might kill him, so you squeezed his leg from under the table. After that, he took a much more civilized sip of his drink, but the warning in his eyes remained as they darted around the diner, meeting the curious eyes of all the other Fives.

“I am betting the lack of caffeine wasn’t nearly as awful this time around when you had such a lovely companion there with you in the apocalypse. She was with you, I presume…? That’s if your story parallels that of some of these other lost boys in here.”

To that, your exceedingly twitchy Five glanced at a very young looking Five wearing his Umbrella Academy uniform. He was sitting next to the door with Dolores. Staring back at the kid version of him’s baby face, Five’s own features pinched with confusion.

Seeing that they weren’t going to get any juicy details on his relationship with you, the Greeter said, “Okay, cutting to the chase then…?”

“Please,” Five cooly replied.

Obliging, the Greeter said, “Every one of us here tried to fix this mess and couldn’t. Now we are here doing anything we can to help the other Fives who still have skin in the game. Which are the lucky bastards like you. So, how can we help?”

Flipping his hair out of his eyes, Five asked, “Will going back to our first timeline and then jumping back to prevent Ben’s death change any of this?”

“No,” the Greeter Five replied.

“Would stopping the original Reginald from releasing the marigold in the first place be enough to fix this?”

“It would be, but we can’t do that. He didn't release the marigold on Earth. He did it on his home planet and then it got here many years later. We don’t have the ability to jump from one plant to another, and Reginald’s ticket here was one way. Doing that also means we will never be born. So again. No.”

With his foot agitatedly tapping under the table, Five shook his head. “What else is there that we can work with?”

The Greeter laughed. “Us. We are the problem.”

“Explain,” Five shot back.

Tiling his head to the side, the Greeter grinned at you then looked back at your Five and sighed. “The marigold that caused our births was the catalyst, and we were the by-product that never should have been. We set it all in motion by existing. Our births are what caused a ripple effect that split the timelines. They never should have happened, and because of that, we get an endless cycle of nature trying to correct itself.”

Five’s hand tightened around yours. “The apocalypse and the Cleanse.”

The Greeter nodded. “Exactly. Every one of them, and on and on it goes. We are at one million five hundred thousand, eighty-two tries to stop it at this point and we haven’t, but we are still going strong.” 

He laughed at that, his eyes moving to the Five in the corner booth who was tipping back a bottle of whiskey with about half of it running down his chin. 

“Well, most of us are still trying. Drunk Five, not so much,” the Greeter cynically added.

Not happy about that, the Drunk Five, sloshing his bottle all over his table started in. “You are missing shit as usual! There are things bigger in this world than new elements that can spontaneously create superpowered assholes and then later devour them for no good fucking reason other than an arrogant alien asshole named Reginald had zero foresight!” he shouted.

“It was Abigail who created it,” one of the Fives playing cards flatly corrected, while dealing another hand to the Five across from him. 

“Whatever! Still an asshole!” Drunk Five insisted, getting even more worked up. “Real power has nothing to do with what they gave us! It’s in here, only all you self absorbed morons have no idea what it means to feel it!” he declared while trying to point a finger at his heart, but when he almost dropped his bottle, he ended up dumping booze on his crotch instead.

Looking like he was about to cry, the very drunk Five looked over at you. “I- I’m,” 

He said your name, proving the Greeter Five wasn’t the only one who knew your name.

“I tried to save you. I tried to save all of them, but I didn’t see the right way to do it until it was too late,” he sobbed. He set his bottle down, ringing his hand through his hair as he looked down at the table. “I would have done it. I would have sacri-”

A Five wearing an apron stepped out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over his drunk doppelganger’s mouth as he said, “Zip it before you fuck this up royal, nob shine.” 

Looking at you with a gleam in his eye, the kitchen Five bent down, whispering something in his captive’s ear, then having quieted the Drunk Five, that Five came over, placing his elbows on the back of your seat, joining the party, and again you were greeted with a smile and excited green eyes.

Reaching over to playfully twirl a piece of your hair around one of his fingers, the Five from kitchen looked to the Greeter Five then to your Five, saying, “Perhaps while you boys continue this conversation, it would be best if I take the lady in back to show her how I tenderize my meat?”

“Not a fucking chance,” your Five snapped back as you let out a small but very hysterical sounding laugh.

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” the Greeter agreed.

“She isn’t going anywhere with any of you!” Five fumed, standing up to get in the face of the kitchen Five that was invading the booth.

Someone in the kitchen who sounded like Five laughed, yelling something about soup and sore his meatballs, and just then, the bell above the door chimed.

A much older, white-haired gentleman with a mustache came in, throwing his hat on the coat rack as he took in the scene. “Jesus fucking Christ, why does it always have to be a freak show in here,” he grumbled.

The very young Five at the booth with Dolores tipped his margarita at him in agreement as your Five opened his mouth, starting to flip out again, but right then, the Waiter Five appeared from the kitchen, plate in hand, swinging by your table to drop a thick sandwich stacked with pastrami in front of the Greeter. “Here you go, extra sauerkraut, as you requested.” 

The Waiter looked over at you, his wicked grin grew. 

“Why do you always have to fuck shit up, Briket Five?” the Greeter snapped at the Five still playing with your hair. “Nobody wants to eat this shit covered in fermented slop but you!” 

“Shut up and just eat it,” he replied while giving you a naughty looking wink.

“Brisket Five?” you asked.

The Five in question nodded. “Yes, but you can call me whatever you want, love.” 

He got up and walked towards the kitchen, after your Five swatted his hand away, but getting him off of you made Five look no less pissed by the exchange. “We need to get you out of here,” he said as he started to slip out of the booth, but coming past your table, the old mustached Five nearly plowed down the Waiter, who then rammed into your Five blocking his path.

As he looked at the commotion going on at your table and all the Five’s sizing each other up, the older Five gruffly said, “Not sure what these morons have been telling you, but I am so sick of their shit that I am about ready to shove that mop up someone’s ass. Nobody is going to enjoy that other than Janitor Five, so I’ll give you some straightforward advice that might help us all out of this mess instead. Don’t try to save the world this time.”

The Five with the mop laughed. “True on both accounts! I’m down with an anal mop fucking as long as you go gentle on me, and when it comes to fucked up shit I haven’t tried, not saving our asses is the only thing I haven’t done, so I say yes to that too,” he shouted, then went back to moping the mess under Drunk Five’s table.

Mentally on overload, next to you, in his head, ignoring what the weird mop fucking stuff was all about with the Janitor Five, your Five repeated the words that had been haunting him since the first time he’d heard them coming from another much older permutation of himself who was dying in a paradox proof bunker.

Don’t try to save the world…

As if that wasn’t enough to shake him, still reeling with deja vu, the Drunk Five called over, “We need to destroy the marigold!”

“Please shut him up before he really scares her even more than h already has!” Greeter Five shouted.

With all the other Five’s too busy glaring at each other, the Drunk Five went on even louder, this time declaring his love for you, and because of it, you looked even more rattled by the chaos of all the versions of Five scattered around you, mostly all of them losing their shit or making lovey dovey eyes at you.

Coming out of the kitchen with a frying pan in hand, Brisket Five said, “Holy shit, someone should have thrown him outside hours ago.” A second later, he pulled back to swing, and a second after that, DONG! Drunk Five was lying face down, drooling on his placemat.

“To that, we agree,” the Greeter said, looking at you worriedly.

As if Brisket Five hadn’t just potentially concussed or killed the inebriated version of himself, the Waiter Five shimmied back into the mob around your table, refilling all the coffee cups, acting like all this was all totally normal.

Next to you, Five looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Unable to get out of the booth, he was about to vault the back of your seat and start stabbing out the eyeballs of the other Fives with his sugar spoon.

Coming over, Brisket Five said, “As you’ve noticed some of these lesser evolved douche bags in here aren’t that well-mannered, and Old Five is not much of a socialite, but he’s not wrong, and neither is Drunk Five over there. They are onto something, but our gracious Greeter here, and some of the others like to think there still has to be another way that doesn’t involve our way of thinking.”

“It makes sense that statistically, there is!” the Greeter Five growled, to the dickish brush off wave of the frying pan that Brisket Five just gave him.

After threatening the Greeter, Brisket Five, looking at you in a way that made you feel all sorts of warm, he said, “Did you know that there is a quantum entanglement thing going on between us?”  

“There is nothing going on between you two,” your Five snarled.

“Sure, there is,” he reaffirmed, giving the Greeter a pointed look that made your Five and the Greeter suddenly look much less sure of themselves. 

Coming too, looking even more upset now that he just got his head bashed in, looking at you, Drunk Five started rambling. “We have something that binds people through time in ways that no one will ever understand. It’s why we ran into each other in the first place, and it was why you were there to save me, and I was there to save you! It’s an inevitability… It’s as simple as that! We just need to believe in that this time and maybe-”

“It’s wishful thinking and we need more than that,” the Greeter interrupted.

Looking very annoyed, Brisket Five said, “There are some of us that like to pretend it’s horse shit based on fairy tales and lovesick delusional nonsense, but the concept of a love-based entanglement is very real.” He looked at you again. “No matter how far or how we get pulled apart in the mess of time, we will always remain connected. It’s like that with a love as strong as ours.”

“You don’t know her and you don’t love her! I do!!” your Five snapped

Brisket Five looked at the Greeter, both of them smiling knowingly, no longer looking like they might kill each other.

“Five, what is he talking about?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he shot back, clearly so upset that he didn’t know what to say anymore.

“Sure, you do,” Brisket Five confidently replied. "Let me ask you this…have you ever felt things you can’t explain?”

Five nodded, yes.

Brisket Five reached across the table, placing his hand over yours as he smugly smiled at your Five while asking, “Have you felt it with her?” 

Heat flooded your face.

Your Five said nothing, but he didn’t need to, the other him’s smile turned into a full-on smirk. “Has she told you that she feels it too?”

Five glanced at you, and the other Five’s all trying their best to charm you with their bullshit smiles that made him want to punch himself.

“Ahhhh-haaa,” Brisket Five laughed. “I suppose she might not have told you she has felt that invisible tether that pulls at her heart when you're there and even when you’re not, but Drunk Five’s stories can’t all be bullshit, and I can attest to it because I feel it right now. Something tells me that she’s the special one here, not us, and it has nothing to do with marigold.”

Pulling his lips to the side, looking upset, Greeter Five said your name, pulling your attention his way again. “Hey, why don’t we let them talk about all this crap alone? I am sick of the fighting, and I bet you are hungry for something that is actually edible.” 

Getting up, he offered you a hand. When you got nothing from your Five other than silence, the warmth of the Greeter’s fingers curled around yours, sliding you out of the booth to join him. 

Directing you towards the display case filled with pies, Greeter Five said, “It really is a lucky day. There’s one more piece of strawberry fluff with your name on it.”

Behind you, Brisket Five leaned into your Five’s ear, talking extra quietly. “Look, you’re the first to ever come in together, and I think that means it’s time to end this the only way we can. Our family doesn’t have to make it to the end to get what you want, just the people we love do. We are linked to them, and them to us by something none of us can explain but it is real. Maybe that matters, and maybe it won’t, but at least they will live, and this will stop,” he said, eyeing you as the other Five’s intentionally dominated your attention so you didn’t hear that part. 

Your Five’s eyes widened as he realized what the other him meant.

“All your numbers and asshole logic aren’t getting you anywhere but here again, buddy. You need to let go,” Brisket Five added, trying to smile again but the sadness in his eyes and the pain he felt about it was impossible to hide.

Getting up, he left your Five alone at the booth.

“Just do as that old dipshit said to do this time,” the Five with Dolores yelled out, loudly slurping his margarita to the bottom of the glass.

“Why don’t you give me Dolores and you got stick your dick the pickle jar again and fuck it,” a particularly grumbly looking Five interjected before going back to scowling at his crossword puzzle.

“Five, what do they mean, don’t try to save the world this time?” you said, breaking away from Greeter Five as you came rushing back.

Just then, Drunk Five started in again, this time getting up from his booth, heading your way, cutting you off. “Don’t worry. We can help. We will come with you this time. Then-” 

He almost fell, his hand swinging out to catch him on the divider between booths.

Dizzily looking at all the others, then you again, he said, “We will keep the Cleanse busy, distracting it, and we will get Ben and Jennifer out of it.” He looked at your Five, a silent understanding happening between him as he lied. “You get everyone back to the academy. Viktor will have time to pull this shit out of you, dump it, and then you get the hell out of there. If you win, we all do.”

Reaching down, instead of vomiting, which he looked like he might do, Drunk Five pulled up two heavy double barrel shotguns that you had no idea were sitting next to the mostly quiet CrossWord Five who was now also suddenly getting up, pulling two guns from his shoulder straps.

“I’m in,” the Waiter Five said, dropping his coffee carafe in favor of the potato peeler he just pulled out of the bin full of dirty dishes sitting on the next table.

Greeter Five walked over to the fire box, smashing open the case, pulling out the ax. “Fine, Let’s fuck that blob up,” he said while giving you an extra cute grin that left you even more speechless over how quickly they’d all came together.

Almost all the Fives were suddenly packing, Brisket Five included, grinning at you from over by the check-in desk as he twirled a large butcher knife around, pointing it at his head, trying to get you to laugh over how crazy they all were.

Drunk Five swooped in, wobblily kneeling at your feet, his puppy dog eyes imploring you to believe him. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Feeling drawn to him, as you shakily wiped a tear from his cheek, he said, “I won’t let you down this time.” Letting your fingers gently run across his temple, Drunk Five’s eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “I still feel it,” he whispered as that spark of something lit up inside you, his eyes opening to meet yours, his focus entirely on you, unwavering as he was in his heart. “We’ve got this, sweetheart, we always did. Just hold on to me, okay? In here. Don’t forget how much I love you and we will always be together.”

He reached up, placing his hand over yours so he could pull it over his heart.

As your Five slowly, almost hypnotically moved in, looking down at the other him with a heartsick look in his eyes, Drunk Five handed the much older, very resolute looking Five who’d also came over his other shotgun. 

“Enough fucking around! Time to end this, boys!” the white-haired patriarch said. 

~~~

“See you on the other side,” Brisket Five said, while giving you both a look that was nothing like his haughty expressions he’d been maintaining for most of the conversation inside the deli. To you, his small smile seemed to be saying something by saying nothing at all, then he ducked into the other train car that the other Five’s had chosen to ride in.

Stepping in the doors you had come out of when you got there, you watched them a car over from yours, all the different versions of the man you loved as they found their places to either sit or stand, none of them saying a word. 

They looked like they meant business, like the violent ax swinging, hell bent on retribution kind of business, and it was a stark contrast to how out of control they’d been acting inside the deli.

“I promise, we can do this,” Five said, his eyes not leaving yours even though he was aware he had an audience in the next train over.

His heart was beating so hard. He felt like he could jump out of his skin but there was no way he was going to tell you that.

He knew all of the Fives felt it. It was in the air all around them, permeating every fiber of their being. It was the accumulation of all of it. The weight of their endless devotion to the people they loved, the pain of enduring so much for so long, and it was the bitter taste of so much loss and the loss that had yet to come.

You let your fingers trail down the gully between Five’s ab muscles until they touched his waist. “Five, I am so scared.”

He wasn’t anymore.

He looked over at the other car, then back at you, shaking his head. “We have about five minutes, give or take. What should we do with it?”

You said nothing, and tears started to run down your cheeks.

Five kissed you.

His eyes met yours right as you grabbed at his leather belt, pulling his hips against you.

“I need you,” he said, his voice breaking.

The smallest noise escaped his mouth as you snaked your body against his. The warmth of your body flooded his senses, tingling from his toes all the way back to his groin.

The rapid rise and fall of your chest matched his as you kissed him with equal desperation, shaking him to the core.

With a suppressed moan, Five took you by the shoulders, pushing you down on the seat. Coming down to his knees in front of you, making is where some of the others couldn’t see you, he settled his body between your legs. 

He pushed your knees apart even more, then locked his mouth on yours again, his tongue thrusting inside urgently.

Clutching his shirt, you slid closer to him, until your hips met his.

Reaching for his pocket, Five closed his eyes and swallowed.

He pulled out the condom Diego gave him. Realizing what he was about to do, you snatched it and chucked it over his head, then immediately started unlatching his belt, sliding his zipper down to gather him in your palm.

“There is nothing that can ever come between us,” you said, nearly repeating what all the other Five’s had been saying but saying it meaning so much more than that. 

Five’s body involuntarily fell forward as you stroked him.

“I love you,” he breathed. It came out unsteady, a streak of hot liquid slipping from his eye no matter how much he willed it not to.

You fisted the back of his pants, drawing him closer, the deed earning you a low mewl emanating from deep within his throat.

You kissed him and brought your legs up around his waist.

His pants, already undone, slipped down his thighs, catching in a bunch of material above his knees as his cock bobbed between your bodies, fully erect.

Five moved his forehead against yours. He lifted the bottom of your dress up as you swept a finger over his leaking slit, spreading the liquid gathering down his shaft.

He hissed with pleasure.

Unable to stop himself even though he saw Brisket Five peeking over his shoulder for a second, Five took his cock in hand, and getting ready, your hands moved down behind you on the seat to keep you from slipping backwards. You arched your back, letting out a broken whimper the first time Five’s cock slid up against you.

“Holy shit,” Five breathed in on shaky air as he rubbed his tip across your clit a few times, then he positioned his cock lower, his slicked thickness gently pushing and prodding as he worked it over your hole like he’d never allowed himself to do before.

“Fuck,” he cursed, because that was exactly what it felt like as he tried to sink into your warmth but the tightness starting to surround him instantly fought back.

Gripping his length with more determination, his hand trembling, Five pushed harder. Sweat breaking out all over his body, he felt the pressure surrounding the sensitive bulb of his swollen flesh as your body started to let him inside. He felt your body clenching repeatedly around him as it adjusted and even that was almost enough to do him in.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he anxiously breathed.

Biting your lip as you tried to relax, looking up at him staring back through the dark strands of hair dangling over his eyes, you nodded, encouraging him along with one of your hands winding around his neck and your other sliding around his hip, gently but firmly pushing him to take more.

Five’s lower lip quivered as he did, his hand gripping his base moved out of the way as he opened you, moving so cautiously, as he forced your body to take him.

You sucked in a breath as his hips jerked forward just a little, then back again.

“Oh, fuck, that felt- Fuck,” he groaned.

He drove in, kissing you for just a moment before breathlessly breaking away again.

“We stay together until the end,” you frantically said, “You and me. If you go, I go.”

Five knew why you were saying this. He knew your heart was breaking, just like his. They were all trying to hide the truth, but you saw right through him. 

You always did.

There was only a fraction of space between your faces. With your breathy words on his lips, Five whispered back, “You and me, always, love.”

He slipped out and then back in, bottoming out in one swift motion.

You gasped and he pulled back, then completely stilled until you quickly moved your hands down his back, pulling at his waistcoat so he was forced to dig himself inside you again.

“Don’t stop,” you begged.

One more small thrust in and out and again he buried himself full deep, jolting your body as his fingers dug into your ass, locking you to him as much as he could.

Like he needed air to breathe, Five needed to be a part of you in every way he could in the minutes he had left. Audience of horny Fives be damned. Your heart and your soul was his.

He had to bury his face in your neck to stem the flow of his breathy curses over what his body was feeling as it took yours, claiming it completely.

“You feel amazing,” he puffed against your skin. It took him a few seconds to regain himself, but when he did, you brought your hand up to his hair, slowly carding it through your fingers as you drew his lip to yours. Your kiss was soft and soothing. After a moment, his body reactively started moving again, and your kiss deepened, letting him know he should keep going.

Five pulled his hips back, withdrawing halfway before pushing back into your perfect warmth as slowly as he could manage. But as you started to lift your hips to meet his, his pace got faster, and more confident, and again it felt so fucking good that he had to pull back from your lips to breathe. He went for the skin at your neck instead, tasting it, licking you as he nipped and sucked and wildly drove himself into you with his hips rocking and his thighs thrusting forward, the tips of his dress shoes digging into the floor as he wildly plowed you.

Fighting the urge to let himself come, Five growled, “Fuck this world, and fuck all of them, you are mine!”

The cheers of the other Five’s hearing that, all of them unable not to notice the show he was putting on, only made your Five get louder, increasing the madness of it all.

“You are mine!” he said again, getting angrier, but also not, because his diabolically cute grin said something else entirely.

“Five!” you cried out as he fucked into you harder and harder, shaking your brains loose.

Out of his mind, but somehow still in control enough to bite back the pressure building, Five suddenly started to move in slow, deep thrusts that were sweet and intense, and at first, very calculated. That abrupt change got you moaning like he was slowly killing you, your fingers clawing at his ass as he undulated his cock in and out, deliberately dragging his tip back and forth where it made you cry out his name the loudest.

Despite Five’s valiant efforts to control himself and prolong the thing you’d both been denied for so long, he could no longer hold back when your heels dug into his back.

When he dipped forward, laying over you as much as he could while fucking you on edge of the bench, you kissed the hollow of his throat, your hot tongue slick against his skin.

Just like he finally knew what he needed to do, Five knew that no matter what, he would always have this, even if you didn’t remember it. 

A weight lifting that he’d been crushed by for so long, wrapping his arms around your waist, Five lifted you forward with animal-like passion, bucking into you.

Like free falling, the heat of your release caressed his length as he continued to swiftly move in and out. You were lost, eyes closed, your mouth wide against his shoulder, silently crying out as your walls trembled around him, the feeling of ecstasy not letting up because he wasn’t.

Not until his rhythm began to break and Five could no longer hold back the rising tide did he tell you to look at him.

He locked eyes with you, his hips shunting forward in a stutter of broken motion he could no longer control. “You are the best part of me,” he panted as he started spilling deep inside you.

The whisper of his name on your lips served to move his hips once more, then as you cried his name, another spasm came to close his eyes as his body weakened and his face dropped to the side of your neck.

For almost a minute, Five stayed in that spot, waiting for his heart to slow. But all too quickly he had to withdraw.

As you were both righting your clothes, one of the Fives banged on the glass between the cars. “Button it up! Time to go!”

The train was slowing.

Placing your hand on his cheek as you fought back the start of more tears, you gave Five that beautiful smile that would forever touch his soul. 

~~~

Before setting out of the train, Brisket Five put a hand on Drunk Five’s back as he said, “It’s been an honor watching you slowly trying to drown yourself.”

Pulling his eyes from the floor, Drunk Five looked at the other him who was holding the butcher knife and smiled. “It’s been awful eating that shit you call food.”

Swinging his ax to his shoulder, Greeter Five kicked the Five with Dolores on his lap in the ankle. “You watched the whole thing, didn’t you? Just look at your pants,” he said pointing to his crotch and the boner that he was trying to use their beloved mannequin to hide.

“What,” he questioned innocently while turning Dolores towards him, looking for support. “Can’t blame a guy for being curious… If you fuckers wouldn’t have gotten jealous and started beating off like a bunch of pervs over it, Dolores was game to join in the fun. Weren’t you, honey?”

Smirking as he pushed his back off the side of the train, one of the Card playing Fives let out a little laugh. “He’s got a point.”

“I am not going to miss you fuckers,” Old Five said, smirking at he rolled his eyes.

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

Big Damnit here guys...

Okay so readers, I am so sorry, but Tumblr cut me off here and won't let me post more, and all we have left is Z!!!! It's so frustrating because it almost all fit on here. The end is worth it I promise, so please read it, it's not that long. I am not doing a separate post on here to end it because those get lost in the ether. So, please forgive me and head over to A03 to this link (Chapter 26, Z-Zion) to go directly to the final part of this story.

Long live the Umbrella Academy and its awesome fans. ❤️

Share your thoughts if you like but just know one way or another, thank you for reading this. It means so much to me.

Link to my MasterList

Link to all my Tumblr story and art Posts

Link to visit me on A03

[skywalkershootme]

what about reader giving ani the silent treatment and he gets annoyed and fucks her so she finally talks to him again?!??!

ATTENTION: A.S.

anakin skywalker x afab!reader

18+ MDNI WC: 1309

warnings: slight angst, couple fighting, fluff, smut, anger, porn w plot, crying, i took so much inspo from a porn trope, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), gspot stimulation, anakins kind of mean at the start. DNI if not comfortable!

Anakin had been getting on your nerves this week, and it never seemed to quit. It was something so deep in his selfishness that he was unable to see how much he had bothered you; to be gone all day, and come home just to not give you any attention. He would slug himself into the kitchen, drink water, give you a lazy excuse of a mumble for a “thank you” just to lurk into the shower for god knows how long (using YOUR special shampoo) and to lay in bed until you both fell asleep. The only affection he would give you at the time were light neck kisses, and playing with your hair

Of course, it's not Anakin's fault he has been feeling so down lately.. But you want to be able to help him and it's always refused. He hadn't realized how the lack of attention was bothering you until you fought that evening.

A short, shallow mix of your yelling and sobs, and Anakin unable to understand what you needed, because all you could do was cry about how you needed his attention. Once he realized, he looked at you like he was almost offended. Were his neck kisses before you slept not enough? They would be, if you didn't wake up in the middle of the night to a cold, empty bed.  

At the end of it, Anakin sat in the living room reflecting, as he heard you quietly crying in the bedroom into your pillow. How could he be so selfish? He refused all help given to him, and instead just brought her down with him. He may have not been the best boyfriend at the time, and saying he felt horrible was a severe understatement. You were his living light, the reason his heart beat, you were the air he breathed.

He gained his confidence to see you laying in bed with wet hair, having just showered; and flipping through a book. When he walked in, your heart felt like it was going to explode with so many emotions. You were angry, furious of course; you almost wanted to throw your book at him and scream, but at the same time, it was filled with love and grief of missing him, so you decided to just ignore him. Anakin stood in the doorway, looking over at you, your skin shining fresh with lotion, and the big t-shirt he gave you to wear. 

“Honey? Honey..” He spoke to you just for you to ignore him, like he was talking to the walls of the room instead of you. The fear and guilt in his voice was immaculate to hear, it almost healed you; knowing he was sorry “My love..” He whispered as he got onto his knees right by the bed, rubbing your leg just to move it away, wanting to see how much you could push and make his guilt rise. It was messed up’ you know that, but you just want him to feel as guilty as he could. Anakin felt his heart break as you moved away. He wanted nothing more to hold you in his arms, cover you in as many kisses as he could until your heart was healed. But alas, he actually had to get your attention, and apologize. That's a scary word for him. He said your name sternly, for  you to just peek over your  book and look him in the eye. His facial features were prominent, nostrils flared, and he was scared red from crying earlier… you made him cry; but still.. You were mad. That was not enough for you. He tried and tried getting your attention, just for you to never falter to it. 

You see him stand up out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you. His hands start slightly stroking your thighs and putting his hand on the back of your neck “Come on baby… Please just talk to me. You don't have to make this as hard as it is right now” You feel him slowly shift and crawl onto the edge of the bed. What was he doing? What the fuck? He feels up your thighs, pulling that big tshirt up so he has more room to see you, letting out a low groan “Do I really have to make you talk to me?” Anakin traces his fingers up your thighs, seeing you blush slightly, still seeing your eyes on your book. You read word by word as you tried to ignore him slowly prying your thighs open, to look at your panties, brushing his nose against them. You knew this game, you know you couldn't win.. But shouldn't you at least try?

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by him licking a strip over your underwear, and licking the insides of your thighs, then running his hands over your covered folds. His deep, husky voice filled the room as he sternly whispered to you. “Lift your hips up.” You hesitantly obliged, raising your hips so Anakin could pull your panties off, to slowly throw them aside. “Good girl…” He said with a smile as he spread your legs, settling himself between them. He slowly blew on your clit, making you jerk in surprise, overhearing his soft chuckle. He was being such a brat. Couldn’t he just eat you out.. Not make you even more furious? He dipped his head in between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit, making you wet with a mixture of your juices and his spit… he was licking softly and suckling on you for a few minutes until he spoke up. Your body was already flashing hot already from the pressure on your clit, but you tried to ignore him. The words in your book were beginning to make less sense, and your mind was creeping over to Anakin, and how much you deeply, truly missed him. 

“Wow… baby?” He said “You must be so upset to ignore me when I'm kissing your pussy like this…. I'm so, so sorry baby… “ 

He whispered this between your folds, going back to kissing and delving in them, slowly slipping his fingers inside. You let out your first moan of the night, and dropped the book, finally looking at him. “Well, there's progress” Cocky bitch.

His fingers slowly massaged your g spot, as you threw your book across the bed, and put a hand in his hair, letting out another guttural moan. You saw his eyes look up at you as he was sucking on your clit, your juices and his spit all around his mouth and on his nose. His free hand creeped up to hold yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as you threw your head back in ecstasy, letting out a smile as you do so, your legs almost folding over on your body. You used your leg to push him closer, your calf resting over his shoulders and neck keeping him there. He went faster, giving your pussy all the attention you craved from him this past week. You felt your pussy flutter, unexpectedly cumming all over his fingers as he massaged your insides. He let out his own moan when he saw you drip all over his fingers, looking up at you and cooing. “Oh baby… you needed that didnt you, yeah? Just need your pussy rubbed a bit so you can cheer up?” He crawled on top of you and made eye contact as he licked himself off of his fingers, before grinding himself against you, looking at you. “Come on baby… let me in.. I'm so sorry, you know I'd do anything to make it up to you. Anything.” 

[eds6ngel]

hiiiii omg can u do one where robin and afab reader are happily seeing each other. one day, reader overhears some people talking badly about same-sex relationships and saying what they'd do to a same-sex couple if they saw one in public. scared, reader tries to break up with robin without explaining why. it's an emotional and tense moment, but robin won't let reader leave until she explains. finally, reader tells robin her fears, leading to a gentle, comforting conversation and moment that brings them closer

one day, we’ll be free ᰔ��

robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: you and robin had been seeing each other for two months in private, praying for the day that you could move to a more liberal area, but how would you react when jason carver makes his violent opinions known about lesbians?

pre warning !! this is a very heavy chapter, so make sure to read the tags carefully. if you find anything that triggers you, please go ahead and skip this fic. please do let me know if i have missed anything!!

warnings: ANGST!! fem!reader. lesbian!reader. closeted/hidden relationship. heavy 80s accurate homophobia. use of d slur in a derogatory way. rape & pedophilia accusation against a lesbian. gun mention. threat of hurting/killing lesbians. robin’s parents are homophobic. r tries to run away. allusion to self harm. break-up attempt. lots of crying. death mention. pet names (my love, baby, honey.) food mentions. slight fluff. [2.7k].

a/n: thank you for requesting, lovely! i did make this chapter very heavy and accurate to the time period (at least i hope close enough!) so i hope that this is suitable to what you can read and enjoy the fic ♡

You had met Robin in your French class in your junior year. You had found her to be the most stunning girl in the entirety of Hawkins High, and in an ideal world, you would’ve been asking her out in the middle of the damn hallway.

But… it was 1985, and you could’ve been ostracised, hurt, or even killed by another student or teacher if you even attempted to do so.

However, luckily for you, privacy was something that could be maintained. You successfully asked Robin out in a secluded area of Lover’s Lake extremely late at night, and to your delight, she said yes.

And for the past two months, you and Robin had been happily seeing each other in your own time. Whereas you would’ve loved to have publicly showed off your girlfriend like any of the other couples around Hawkins did, some a little too much, you still found comfort in the dates you organised in your bedroom or a nice, private spot during early hours of the morning.

However, your ultimate dream was to escape to the city. New York, LA, San Francisco, anywhere where you could go to a gay bar and just find like-minded people. Maybe there were more gay people in Hawkins, but how would you ever come to find out?

You loved this town, you grew up in this town and made so many memories here, but it just wasn’t safe for your future. Nowhere was really, but at least the cities had a community. Here? It was just you and Robin against everyone else. Against every other likely homophobic asshole that graced these streets.

You were sat at one of the lunch tables, patiently waiting for your girlfriend to join you from her Biology class. Unfortunately for you, it seems as if Robin’s class had been let out later than usual, so you had to grab a table before they were all taken, and that table just so happened to be to the right of Jason Carver’s designated spot. It wasn’t even designated, but everyone in the school was too goddamn scared, or simply agreed that that space was now his.

And just like always, he was being an absolute nightmare.

The daily Eddie Munson vs. Jason Carver shenanigans had already taken place, and since Jason’s table was obnoxiously loud about their talking points, you were subject to every word they would utter throughout the rest of the lunch period.

You spotted your girlfriend entering the cafeteria, giving her a huge grin and a wave, to which she returned, grabbing a tray and lining up in the lunch queue.

Your worries had settled for a few moments, glad that Robin was safe and healthy, but, that’s when Jason’s conversation definitely caught your ear.

“Dude, apparently one of the local dykes around here raped a teenage girl a few weeks ago.”

The whole table erupted into a roar of laughter at one of the other jock’s words, you purposefully holding back your tears. Not only were they being extremely homophobic, but they were laughing about a girl in her age category getting hurt. Gay or not, how could you even joke about that kind of thing? It’s so vile.

“Not even shocking, man. You know, if I saw one of them lesbians around here, I would be the first person to take them out. My dad owns a few guns, I could easily shoot them down from a mile away.”

That level of violence from Jason made you instantly terrified for your life. You were lucky you presented feminine, so everybody assumed you were into men, but what if he caught you and Robin in your safe space at Lover’s Lake? You could be shot dead and he could justify it with some horrible accusation of pedophilia.

And you couldn’t out Robin like that, no way. Her parents already spouted the same-old religious, homophobic talking points. She was already considered a ‘band geek,’ you couldn’t outcast her more than that and put her life in danger.

You had to go. You couldn’t do this to her. No way in hell.

Retrieving your bag from under the table, you step out, leaving your half-eaten lunch tray on the table as you quickly walked out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot.

Tears were blurring your vision as you drove through the misty rain, unsure of which was blocking your line of sight at what point, the two fading into one. The melancholy of the atmosphere continued as you parked in your driveway, throwing off your seatbelt, and bolting into your bedroom.

Your parents were fortunately at work, the loud clamoring of clothes being tossed around your bedroom echoing through the four corners of your house, your body frantically searching for everything you may need.

You need to get out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

You were about to throw your journal in with your unorganised, messy clothes, when a sudden thought struck your mind. No matter how much you wanted to escape the world you lived in, you couldn’t leave your love like this. Robin deserved some form of closure.

So, ripping a page scruffily from your notebook, the edges uneven and jagged, you collected the closest pen from your bedside table and ripped the cap off with your teeth.

Your handwriting was scruffy, almost unintelligible as you poured your heart and soul onto the page. Small droplets were staining the page, smudging the ink and creating little tears in the thin material. It was chaotic and tangled, but it needed to be done.

Once finished, the journal itself, along with a few of your stationery items, were shoved into the suitcase, the letter folded in half as it was placed at the top of your rucksack, just above the cassettes and books.

Towing your suitcase behind you, rucksack hanging off one shoulder, you made your way back out into the torturous heavy rain. Luckily for you, Robin only lived a ten-minute walk away from your house, and since it was only 1:30pm, assuming she hadn’t rushed home out of worry for your wellbeing, you could open her bedroom window and slip the note onto her bed.

You felt bad for leaving her like this, but it was the best thing for both of you. You would never live a peaceful life if you willingly put your girlfriend in danger. Even worse if she got physically hurt.

This wasn’t just exclusive to Jason’s group of hooligans. They were terrifying enough, but what about the rednecks and rich, snobby business owners who would shoot you on sight? Who you definitely couldn’t put up a fight with?

If you wanted to live a sapphic life, you needed to do that in a somewhat safer place. And that place was definitely not Hawkins.

Robin’s worries had been flying high ever since she saw that lonely half-eaten lunch tray reminiscing in the absence of you. She had to eat lunch alone for the first time in forever, and it was honestly torture without your presence around her.

As soon as that last bell rung signalling the end of the school day, she was out in a flash, shoving all of her books in her bag, not even bothering to switch anything out in her locker. She could organise that tomorrow. She needed to find you. And she needed to do it quickly.

The moment she noticed your car had disappeared, she was hopping right onto the school bus, praying that the journey would be fast, at least fast in her mind. She couldn’t let her concerns invade her brain much longer.

She practically sprinted into her bedroom, only saying a quick “Hi!” to her mom as she burst into the room.

Her plan was to head to the phone, immediately dialing your home phone number and impatiently waiting for you to answer on the other end.

But, the note was impossible not to spot. She knew it wasn’t hers. She keeps everything in her journal nice and neat.

She was nervous as hell, carefully picking up the piece of paper between her dampened fingertips and lifting up the top, revealing your disordered handwriting.

“Hi, my love.

These last few months have truly been amazing with you, but I really can’t be with you any longer.

This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. I just need some time to myself to clear my thoughts, and I don’t think having this many burdens on my shoulder is helping our relationship in any way.

I’m sorry for putting all of this on you like this, and I’m sorry for being so much of a fucking coward not to say this to your face. I hate to have to end things like this.

I’m sorry, and I hope you find someone who is good for you one day.

Your Y/N.”

Robin couldn’t believe what she had just read. Did you really think that your problems were causing harm to her? She would listen to you talk and ramble for hours on end about anything from a life-changing major event, to a minor thing that ticked you off at school. In no way were you causing her life harm. If anything, she would happily sacrifice her own problems for yours. You were the most important thing in the world to her.

She couldn’t end the relationship like this. She didn’t want to end the relationship at all.

She needed to find you. She would search to the ends of the Earth to find you.

Shoving the note in her back pocket, she left the room she only entered a few minutes ago. It was her mission to find you. With a quick, panicked yell of “I’m heading to Y/N’s!” to her mom, Robin was dashing back out the front door with her bike helmet and riding off down the street.

She was not letting you go. She was gonna talk about this with you. She was going to find out what was truly wrong.

Robin felt as if she checked everywhere. She tried your house, Lover’s Lake, even the goddamn mall, yet you weren’t there.

Her worries were increasing, and she needed to find you fast, making sure you weren’t hurting yourself in any way.

The main roads in Hawkins seemed to be getting busier and busier as the end of the work day came ahead, so she decided to use one of the quieter routes to get back to her house. It was a dumb thought process, but she was just going to keep calling and calling when she got back home in hopes that even by the 100th ring, you would pick up and speak to her with that gorgeous voice of yours.

She was carefully riding down the road, trying not to let any of her emotions visibly show. She wasn’t that great of a rider, she couldn’t risk falling off her bike and scraping up her knees again.

But, that is when she saw you. You were cuddled up in a ball on the bus stop bench, the lack of shelter meaning your rain jacket was soaked through, your body practically shivering in the cold February rain. Beside you was your purple suitcase, seemingly packed to the brim, and your rucksack sat perched on your lap, desperately attempting to protect you from the harsh weather.

Robin basically fell off her bike, letting it crash to the ground, the wheels still spinning as she yelled, “Baby! Oh my God, are you okay?”

She tried to reach out for you, but your body immediately flinched away from her, your wrinkled fingers hugging your knees closer to your chest. It was now that Robin could see the stains of your teardrops creating violent patterns through your foundation, making themselves known to anyone who had access.

“Why are you crying, honey? What’s the matter?”

You remained silent, a few echoes of cries escaping your lungs, many sniffles seeking to recover from the intense emotion.

Robin felt as if she had no choice, reaching for the piece of paper that was in her back jean pocket, now a soaked mess from where the downpour had attacked her clothing.

“What is this?” she questioned, holding it in your line of sight, knowing that you could see it in your peripheral, “Why are you trying to escape me, baby?”

A few moments of silence pass, before a low whisper states: “I just can’t be with you anymore.”

Robin feels her mouth become instantly dry. What does that mean? Were you telling the truth in the letter? You couldn’t be… No way…

“Why not?” she delves deeper, “Because what you said in the letter doesn’t bother me at all, baby. I would listen to every worry on your mind. Don’t think you’re ever a burden to me, my love—”

“I just can’t be with you, okay?!”

The sudden outburst makes Robin’s heart break, but not more than the sound of the bus approaching, and you seemingly gathering up your things to flag it down.

Not even thinking, Robin grabs your jacket sleeve, almost touching her fingers to your palm, “Honey, wait a second.”

“Let go!” you yell in total fear. There were likely people on that bus, and obviously the driver. Why was she being so risky? You were gonna get her killed.

Robin’s eyes begin to well up, your sudden emotion really striking her off guard, “Talk to me, baby. Please! I can’t lose you!”

“I’m gonna get you killed!”

Robin’s stunned, lost for words. As if subconsciously, she waves her hand for the bus driver to continue on, not stopping for you. She doesn’t care if that was your plan, you obviously weren’t thinking logically and you were both emotionally and physically overwhelmed.

“What do you mean?” she says softly, almost at a whisper.

You sigh, using your sleeve to wipe away the tears before Robin could reach her own hands out to catch them herself, “A-At lunch today… Jason’s table were talking about a lesbian around here raping a minor. A-And of course that’s wrong if it’s true, but it’s what he said he would do to people like us which scared me…”

Robin shows a slight nod, encouraging you lovingly to continue, “H-He said he would hurt us. Attack us with his dad’s gun. K-Kill us. And I just thought about him or another person around here finding us at Lover’s Lake at night and me having no way to protect you, a-and I just couldn’t handle that, so I wanted to run away…”

Robin was about to reply, but you interrupted her once more, “Sorry, I just— I don’t think I can do that to you. I can’t put you in danger any more. I can’t change the fact that I am a lesbian and neither can you, but I can actively decide our fates. And I want you to live a happy and fulfilling life in the future.”

“But honey… I’m living that happy and fulfilling life right now,” Robin admits, taking a deep breath, “I love you.”

You shake your head, “You can’t! I’m gonna end up getting you hurt! You deserve to be safe!”

“I feel safe when I’m with you! Before I met you, I was scared more than ever!” Robin begins to raise her voice in pain and anguish, “And now, you make me feel so much safer, because you give me hope that everything is going to be okay someday. Yes, we may need to hide now, but in two years, I promise you we will be in a safer place, baby.”

“But what about Jason and the other homophobes around here? What if they hurt us?” you question in distress.

“Baby, I’d rather die tomorrow with you in my arms than die alone at ninety knowing that I let you go as a goddamn teenager.”

You slowly start coming to your senses, nodding as the tears continue to fall. You close your eyes as Robin checks her surroundings, before she cups your face and leans her forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Robin whispers softly, “I love you. Two more years, okay? Just two more years of completely hiding.”

You nod, smiling weakly, “I love you too. Two years…”

taglist: @agxxb @robinsno1lesbian @agenderrat (no pressure for you to engage if this fic is too triggering for you <3)

[stanleypinesgf]

Falling for Mystery - Chapter Seven

Falling for Mystery Masterlist Warnings: mentions of abusive ex, some injuries and blood mentioned but not described in depth, more angst than i was aiming for my loves but i'll be worth it i promise! Please note: this is a slow burn fic with eventual smut and mature themes, 18+ only and please check warnings at the start of chapters! ALSO idk how long I'll maintain a daily posting schedule as I have a 9-5 too LOL but will try my best!! TYSM for all the support so far!!

w/c: 2,092

The darkness enveloped me like a thick fog, swallowing the last remnants of consciousness. The panic that once clawed at my throat faded into a haze, the roar of whatever creature lurked in the woods replaced by an eerie silence.

“Hey, babe. Miss me?”

I blinked, the world around me slowly shifting into focus. I was standing in the middle of our apartment, back in Portland. The familiarity was unnerving, and his smile was almost animalistic, leering down at me. He had a knack for making me feel so small, insignificant.

“What... why are you here?” I asked, trying to steady my voice to appear more confident, when in reality, I was anything but. Dread crept in, taking hold.

He stepped closer, a glimmer of that familiar charm in his eyes. “I just wanted to see you, to tell you how sorry I am, babe. You know I love you, right?”

“Jake, if you loved me, then it would never have come to this. I left because I was afraid of you!” I reminded him, trying to hold onto the anger that had once protected me from him.

“You know we could still have something special, don’t you? Just give it a chance.”

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head as I stepped back. “I can’t do this. Not again.”

“Why not?” His expression shifted, desperation creeping into his voice. “I can change, I promise. I was stupid. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“You’re kidding?” I scoffed, the anger bubbling in my veins. “You turned my friends against me; even some of my own family believed what you said about me! You hit me, Jake, over and over. The worst part is, I thought you were justified in your actions… I blamed myself!”

His gaze hardened, the charming facade slipping just enough for me to see the truth beneath. “I made mistakes, but so did you. Always getting coffee with those guys you work with for a start. But I know we can fix it. You know we were good together.”

I tried to find the words to respond, but none came. Was I really at fault for this? Maybe I did drive him to do and say all those things after all. Everyone else seemed to think he was a great guy, people had a hard time believing me when I told them what a monster he had become.

“You think Stan’s any different? He’s never gonna put up with you like I did! I was good to you!” The venom in his words tore through me.

In the distance, I could hear someone calling my name, footsteps pounding towards me. I looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the voice, but before I could, the world around me began to fade, replaced by an icy chill.

I felt myself being dragged into the depths of a dark abyss, Jake’s voice lingering, taunting me as I struggled to break free.

And then, just as quickly, I was jolted awake by two firm hands on my shoulders. I recognised the familiar, gruff voice. The fog of the dream clung to me, and as I blinked, it began to fade, revealing the sharp edges of reality.

“There you are!” Stan’s voice cut through the haze of fear. He was panting slightly, his face a mix of relief and anger. "What the hell were you thinking? Going into the woods like that?”

I couldn’t answer, not yet. My lungs burned, and my legs were weak. Before I could try to stand, strong arms lifted me from the forest floor. Stan pulled me into his chest, the scent of pine and old leather, mixed with something uniquely his, grounding me in the moment.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” His tone was urgent yet somewhat calm.

“I should be able to walk... you can—” I started, but Stan interrupted.

“You’re joking? I’m not letting that thing get any closer to you!” He huffed, jogging towards the shack as I clung to his broad shoulders.

The rest of the journey was almost silent, dipping in and out of consciousness as the guilt swallowing me whole. I had just made Stan risk his life for me; how could I be so selfish? What I had done was reckless and dangerous.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the creaking of floorboards on the porch of the Shack, relief starting to wash over me. We were home. Stan fumbled for his keys to lock the door behind us, his eyes scanning the tree line, ensuring that... thing was out of sight. But there was more than just concern etched into his features; a flicker of vulnerability danced in his gaze, as if he was trying to mask his own fears. I could see him wrestling with the weight of responsibility, his jaw clenched tight. Did he blame himself for not being out here with me? For not being able to protect me? Each time he glanced my way, a mixture of determination and uncertainty filled his expression, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was as scared as I was about what could happen next. As if he was also scared of losing someone.

“You’re okay now; you’re safe,” he murmured, his gruffness giving way to something softer as he held me close for a moment longer than necessary.

“I— I didn’t think—” I started, but my voice faltered. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to explain. My body trembled, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, and tears started to flow freely.

Stan shifted me in his arms, carrying me inside the shack. “No talking. Let’s get you inside. You look like you’ve been through a goddamn war.”

Once we were inside, the warmth of the shack enveloped me, but it didn’t chase away the chill in my bones. Stan set me down gently on the couch, his hands gripping my shoulders as if he was afraid I’d disappear again if he let go. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, frowning at the dried blood on my arms and legs.

“You need to clean up,” he said, his voice commanding yet edged with concern. “Go shower, wash this off. Then I’ll take care of the rest.”

I blinked at him, the absurdity of a shower after nearly being killed by some forest creature not quite computing. The firmness in his voice left no room for argument, and the exhaustion weighing down my limbs pushed me to obey.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I peeled off my dirty clothes and stepped into the hot stream of water. As I stood under the spray, I could still feel the intensity of Stan’s gaze on me, the way his hands lingered a second longer on my skin than necessary. The way my heart fluttered against my better judgment when he held me.

When I came back out, wrapped in an oversized towel, Stan was still waiting, arms crossed and that same look of concern etched across his face. He had a first aid kit open on the counter, a bottle of vodka seated next to it, and a neatly folded pile of clean clothes—his clothes. He motioned for me to sit back down.

“I—uh, I didn’t wanna go through your stuff, so I brought you these for now...” he seemed almost sheepish at the admission.

“Thank you, can you—” I started, but he turned away before I could finish. I carefully slipped into the baggy t-shirt and tartan pajama bottoms, their scent enveloping me.

“You can turn around now,” I half-chuckled.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice softer now, though his gruff exterior remained intact.

I sat, the tension between us thickening as Stan knelt beside me. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he took my arm, examining the cuts with care. His fingers brushed against my skin, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just the cold air; it was the way he looked at me—like I was fragile, like he was afraid I’d break if he didn’t handle me just right.

“This is nothing,” I mumbled, trying to sound tough, but the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me.

He didn’t respond, just kept tending to my wounds in silence. After a few moments, I couldn’t take the quiet anymore. The weight of what had happened in the woods, of what was happening between us, was too much.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Stan paused, his fingers freezing for a second before continuing to work on the bandages. He looked up at me, his eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. “What kind of question is that?”

“I mean…” I hesitated, unsure how to explain the jumble of emotions swirling inside me. “You don’t have to take care of me like this. It’s my fault…”

His brow furrowed, as if my words confused him. “Of course I do. Who else is gonna do it?” There was a tenderness in his voice, but also something more—something that made my chest tighten. “Besides, I—" he started, then stopped himself, his eyes flicking away as though he wasn’t ready to finish that sentence.

Suddenly, the space between us felt too small. His hands still cradled my arm, and the warmth from his skin was almost overwhelming. Before I knew it, I leaned closer, my breath catching in my throat. The air between us crackled with an energy I couldn’t ignore, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

And then, without thinking, I closed the gap. Our lips met, soft at first, tentative, like we were both testing the waters. Stan’s hand slid from my arm to my waist, pulling me closer as the kiss deepened. I could feel the pent-up tension in the way he kissed me, the restraint he had been holding back finally slipping. My heart raced, not just from the adrenaline still coursing through me, but from the realisation that this was happening—that I wanted this.

But just as quickly, fear set in. The memories of my nightmare, of trusting someone too easily, flooded back. My stomach twisted, and I pulled away, breathless and suddenly terrified of what I’d just let happen.

Stan’s eyes were wide, and I could see the hurt and confusion flicker across his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough, like he didn’t understand.

“I—” I couldn’t find the words. My mind was reeling, and all I knew was that I couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not when everything felt so precarious. Every time I think about trusting someone, I see Jake’s face, the way he used to smile at me before it all went wrong. I remember how I dismissed the little signs—his jealousy disguised as concern, the way he twisted my words until I questioned my own reality. Trusting Stan felt like stepping onto a tightrope without a safety net, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to balance.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, backing away. “I… I can’t.”

Stan blinked, and for a moment, I saw something in him crack—a vulnerability I hadn’t noticed before. His hand hovered in the air, like he wanted to reach for me, but then he pulled it back, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Yeah. Sure,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He stood up, his back stiff as he turned away from me. “You should get some rest.”

He didn’t wait for a response before walking toward the door. My heart clenched as I watched him go, the weight of what had just happened—and what hadn’t—pressing down on me like a thousand pounds. I wanted to call out to him, to explain, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I sat there, alone in the quiet, regret settling in like a cold chill.

As the door clicked shut behind him, a wave of silence crashed over me, amplifying the weight of my solitude. I started to sob, each breath shaking my body as the intensity of everything that had just happened poured out of me. Memories of the woods and Jake’s haunting voice intertwined with the warmth of Stan’s embrace. The struggle within me felt insurmountable, and as I curled into myself on the couch, I couldn't help but wonder if I’d just ruined the chance for something real. The tears streamed down my cheeks, and I fell into a fitful sleep, my heart heavy with the shadows of my past. Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[hjparisian]

high infidelity- harry j potter x reader

"do you really wanna know where i was april 29?"

p: harry j potter x reader w: cheating, angst, hearts being broken whoops, not proofread a/n: i wanted to do something for this song cause it's april 29 and its been stuck in my head for a week. so i kinda threw whatever idea i had in my head lol

Harry Potter and (Y/N) (L/N) were two names you did not hear without the other. Ever since their fifth year, the two seem inseparable. Harry loved them and didn't know what life would be like without them (though he wouldn't want to think about it). After the end of the second wizarding war, Harry proposed to (Y/N) and life seemed to be perfect.

Or at least that's what it would seem from an outsider's perspective. Lately, there seemed to have been some trouble between the two wizards. Harry was busy as an auror in training, putting in the extra work to prove himself (even though he already did as The Boy Who Lived), which meant he wouldn't get home til late. Meanwhile, (Y/N) decided to become a healer, having a knack for healing and had already done some work with Madam Pomfrey during Hogwarts. The hours were long, but (Y/N) still had some spare time, though it was difficult to be able to spend time with Harry with his work.

Lately though, it seemed like (Y/N)'s hours were getting longer and longer, often not coming home until the middle of the night and being called in on days off. There was even a day in April where (Y/N) was gone the whole day only to return the next morning saying they wanted her to help a terribly sick patient.

Harry had found this odd, he wouldn't expect St. Mungo's to overwork (Y/N) like that. Hell even the ministry didn't overwork the people in training unless severely necessary, which was rare.

On his off day, Harry decided to visit Ron in his shared apartment with Hermione, since (Y/N) is at work and he hasn't seen Ron in a minute. He brings up (Y/N)'s long hours to Ron.

"I never seen them much anymore. It's always we see each other in the morning and then right before we go to bed. But lately they've been getting home really late. I don't know, I'm just worried Ron." Harry says.

"Well have you talk to them about it? Can't you guys request time off to spend time?" Ron asks him. Harry shakes his head. "Every time I say something they get mad and we have an argument." This was true. The perfect couple was no longer perfect. There were more arguments than they ever had during Hogwarts. To Harry, it seemed like the love was fading.

"Really?" Ron was a little astound by this, seeing as (Y/N) and Harry always hated being mad at each other and arguing. "And you say they've been coming home later?"

Harry nods his head again. "There was one night where they didn't even come back til morning." Ron started piecing the puzzle together, but did not want to believe his assumptions. Poor Harry would be heartbroken if it was true.

"Mate." Ron started. "Do you think they could be cheating on you?"

Harry felt his world stop at the thought of this. His precious (Y/N), in bed with another man? Spending their precious time with someone else? But it would make sense. Why they would come home late, the calls saying they have to stay later than usual. More particularly, where they could've been April 29.

Ron could seeing the pain and tears forming in his best friend's eyes. "Hey Harry, I could be wrong. Maybe they truly are busy." Saying anything to save Harry's pain.

"No Ron, I think you're right. I have to talk to them tonight."

So Harry sat in the living room of their home, waiting to (Y/N) to arrive. He hears the door unlock and sees the person he was looking for. He stands up.

"Hey Harry," (Y/N) says while hanging up their coat. Harry decides it was now or never.

"Have you been cheating on me?"

(Y/N) stops and looks at him. "What?" Harry speaks. "You heard me. Have you seeing someone else?"

There was a flash of fear and nerves in (Y/N)'s eyes. "Why would you even think that, Harry?"

He scoffs. "Why would I think that? Well, how about the fact that you're always at work? That you always seem to have to stay later and don't even come home til the middle of the night?"

(Y/N) interrupts him. "That's cause I'm busy treating people! They keep me late because they think I'm one of the best trainees and could use the work. And what about you? You never seem to have time for me cause you're too busy with auror training."

"We're not talking about me (Y/N), we're talking about you. You know how intense auror training is anyways. It feels like you work way longer hours than me. And everytime I bring something like this up you always seem to get upset."

"Of course I'm gonna get upset when you're attacking me like this!" (Y/N) screams.

"Well it wouldn't feel like I'm attacking you if you told me what's going on." Harry says. "You never even told me where you were that one day in April. You didn't even come back until morning."

(Y/N) responds, "I was busy at work." Harry felt himself getting more and more frustrated by the minute. "Bullshit, there's no way they kept you at St. Mungos for practically a day."

"Now I'm gonna ask you again, where were you April 29?"

Harry could see the (Y/N) finally exploded. "Do you really want to know where I was on April 29? You really want to know?" They scoff before continuing, "I was out with someone, getting the love and pleasure I haven't gotten for ages!"

Harry was shocked. So (Y/N) really was seeing someone else. The only thing he could say was "Who?"

They stood silent, avoiding eye contact with Harry who asked them again. "Who were you with? Who was giving you the love that I 'apparantly' didn't give you when it was you who wasn't appreciating me?

"Theodore Nott."

Theodore Nott was a Slytherin who was in the same year as both (Y/N) and Harry, though (Y/N) already knew him through family members and the occasional parties their families hosted.

Harry tried to hold back the tears of frustration and sadness. "You slept with Theodore, because you thought I wasn't loving you enough? (Y/N), you could've fucking told me. You knew I would've done anything for you. I would've made time. Here I was, wondering if I was overthinking that you didn't love me anymore, when I guess you really don't."

"Harry-" "No (Y/N), you made your choice, and it wasn't me. I want you get your stuff and leave."

Harry could see the tears welling up in (Y/N)'s eyes. In any other situation, he would've tried to cheer them up, make them laugh, comfort them. But right now, all he could do was watch them flow before letting his silently fall.

He watched (Y/N) go into their room and gathered some of their stuff in a suitcase. "You can get the rest of your stuff another day." (Y/N) just nods as they zip the suitcase close and walk to the door.

They open the door before looking back at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry." He shuts the door behind them before sliding to the floor, letting his sobs fill the empty room.

There was so many different ways that this could've gone, but Harry would never thought it would end from not loving each other enough.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Part 106- Goodbye My Love

Summary: Narcisse's henchman is on the loose and Josie goes off the deep end...literally. Stephane reacts. Thranduil hears and sees something. Time to wake up. A frantic search takes place. Garrett is a hero. Legolas has harsh words. A treacherous journey begins as Josie goes down memory lane. Will her grief destroy her?

**Warning- attempted rape, violence, angst, language

Asher stood before you cracking his knuckles and grinding his teeth. His eyes were flooded in darkness.

"Now it's just you and me." he confidently sneered.

"What's the matter witch queen? No magic in the bedroom? I can certainly help you with that." Asher groped his cock as he moved towards you.

All you saw at that moment was the way Peter would look at you before he took what he wanted. You scurried across the bed and tried to run but Asher was too quick. He yanked you back by your hair and threw him self on top of you. You tried to scream but he swiftly smashed his hand over your mouth.

"Do you see this? This is what they did to me. All because of you..... and Narcisse will do far worse once we return to Dorwinion."

Both of his upper arms had multiple lacerations on them, most likely from a whip. "Do you have any idea how bad this stings?? Here...let me show you."

Your eyes widened in fear as your muffled screams leaked through his clammy fingers. He kept his hand over your mouth and slid between your legs, perching himself on his knees as he pulled his solid member out. You began smacking and punching his wounds as you kicked your legs vigorously, but it only seemed to turn him on. He was just too strong so you did the only thing you could think of that would surely stop him. You latched onto his cock and began squeezing and pulling as you dug your nails into his shaft, instantly drawing blood.

"You fucking cunt!!!" he screeched.

Stars were all you saw as a burning sting radiated over your face where he struck you with brutal force. You were temporarily deafened by an intense ringing in your ear.

"Get the fuck up! I think you need to cool off, you crazy bitch."

He drug you off the bed and up the stairs by your arms to the deck, then hoisted you up to where your legs dangled over the rail. All you could see was the infinite raging ocean as the enormous vessel thrashed against them in it's offshore anchored state.

You knew what was happening but you were so dazed by his crippling blow that you couldn't fight him.

"It would have been so much more enjoyable to fuck you and that is what you will now get....fucked."

The feeling of free falling delved through your core as his arms released you. You managed to cry a shrill scream before you plunged into the icy waves.

The gelid water was like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body as it stole your breath. The only thing you could do was scream for Thranduil in your mind and fight to swim up as the current drug you down. It wasn't called the black sea of death for nothing.

As Thranduil wandered the gardens in his astral state desperately searching for a way out, he heard your blood curdling scream.

"Josephine..." he frantically whispered and swiftly turned to see a single open door standing in the middle of the garden. The view behind it was dark and sinister but it's where your voice came from and he abruptly raced through it without hesitation.

Gasping for air and choking out your name, Thranduil's eyes opened to see the ominous Jareth hovering over him as he laid in an unfamiliar chamber with his wrists shackled to the bed.

Legolas was stunned as he heard your scream and he, Haldir and Julian came sprinting from the steer where they had been toasting Thranduil with a bottle of Narcisse's infamous wine.

Narcisse had just come up from below deck in a rage after realizing Asher had escaped and then witnessed you plunge into the monstrous mosh pit. Stephane raced down the deck at full speed and launched into a nose dive over the rail.

Legolas chucked his weapons to the floor and leaped into the ice bath as did Haldir while Julian head locked a fleeing Asher until he passed out. The piercing chill of the water didn't bother the elves at all as they swiftly descended beneath it's surface.

Other warlock guard came and reprimanded the snoozing warlock while Julian flew off and hovered over the roaring waves waiting for you all to emerge.

Legolas was having a flashback of when Garrett had dropped you in the ocean and he, Thranduil and Haldir had frantically searched for you with no luck. That rare panic coursed through him again as his ballooning blue eyes darted about through the darkened depths of the Rhun. The storm Aragorn warned about was nearing, causing quite a swimming struggle against the current. As herculean and resilient that Narcisse was, the current was acutely fierce and steadfast, proving too much for the warlock to continue. The same went for the two strappingly fit elves. Nothing more could be done as the sea of death appeared to have claimed another victim and all three men were forced to surface without you.

Asher was now conscious and detained by Narcisse's guard. Stephane power walked in a rage towards the wicked one as soon as he stepped foot on the craft and sucker punched him square in the throat. Through his teeth, he spoke in a menacing manner.

"You will suffer a fate far worse than death, for death is too kind for what you have done. Murdering a young woman and her unborn child. There is a special place in hell for monsters like you, and that hell is my wrath." Narcisse snarled as he watched his now ex-assistant deputy violently gasp for air. He then turned to the guardsmen.

"Take him away and complete the simple task of properly securing him without being so fucking incompetent this time! Her death is also upon all of you and for that, you shall answer as well..."

Stephane continued on his rampage. "And where the hell were you Prince, you were to be guarding her door!!"

"And your men were to have been guarding your corrupt captain! If this is the fault of anyone here, it is solely you for coming to the mountain in the first place and for bringing the wretched warlock who had been insistent on not interfering just as you had been!"

"Enough!!" Haldir roared. "I am going back in. I will not give up on her, as she would not on any of us. Jo is not dead! She is wearing the pendant." The determined Lorien elf propelled himself over the rail without a second thought.

Legolas' and Narcisse's eyes lit up with a glimpse of hope as they had forgotten about the gem around your neck. Julian was still casting about over the whipping waves calling out for you as Legolas joined Haldir in the savage sea.

Stephane distraughtly leaned on the rail and momentarily observed the elves. He then raced to search the waters on the other side of the boat and scour the shoreline.

Your body was now numb and your ability to rationalize was gone. Is this how Thranduil felt just before he died? you thought as you became still, staring out into the Tartarean space.

The caliginous abyss became bright and there was Thranduil reaching out to you with a hand full of shimmering white light as he gave you a full teeth smile.

"Josephine...come to me my sweet girl." His echoing voice was gentle and full of love, just like the day you first met him.

All the air you had left in you released as you spoke his name. You raised your hand but you were too weak to reach him. As your eyes began to flutter, his hand powered forward and clasped yours tightly. You suddenly felt your body ascending. To the afterlife with Thranduil, you were desperately hoping, but the next thing you knew, you were on the shoreline choking up water and gasping for air....and someone's hand was on your arm.

Once you caught your breath, you worriedly turned your head to see who had a hold of you.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He had come back for you. But you knew in your heart that he never even left.

"G...Garrett??" you stuttered through chattering teeth. You...you saved me....how did...."

"I have been up in the trees watching. You know I couldn't just leave you. I promised you I never would again and I meant it. Good thing too huh? I saw what that piece of shit did and I immediately dove in. The others were trying to find you but even their keen eyesight isn't as sharp as mine nor do they have my speed and strength to battle the current." He proudly grinned and then joked. "So...am I still your own personal superman like you once said?"

"Always..." You crawled to him and threw your arms around his neck. The stunned vamp carefully embraced your shivering body, then swiftly but gently pushed you back.

"I am too cold for you to be touching. Hold on..."

The irony of Garrett's powers amazed you. Fire was a vampire's worst threat, yet he was a fire sign and had carried that gift with him when he became immortal. Fire had become his best ally in a sense.

He extended his hands out and his palms glowed as if there were burning embers inside of them.

"Now....come to me."

You did as he commanded and he wrapped his arms snuggly around you. His heat radiated through you comfortably from head to toe in mere seconds causing you both to completely dry. Warmth never felt so good to you as it did in that moment. You then realized this was how he kept you sufficiently warm when he plucked you out of the forest and flew you to Lestat's fortress.

"You're like your own sun." you softly giggled as you planted your cold rosy cheek onto his firm chest. "You never cease to amaze me Garrett Lee. You saved my life and my daughter's. I told you the human side of you still exists."

"You give me too much credit. You bare the pendant. It would have saved you."

"Maybe so...but it would not have warmed me or brought me to safety and I also would have lost my memories....so the credit goes all to you. You stayed by my side even when Legolas made you feel like you should leave. Thank you Garrett...so much for everything you have done for me and Leann."

Garrett was speechless. He wasn't used to receiving praise and compliments so he did what he did best. Changed the subject.

"So what happened? How did that sleaze bag get his grimy paws on you? Did he hurt you? I swear I will rip him to shreds...."

"I had finally fell asleep and I awoke to him standing over me in my chamber. I don't know how he got loose. I tried to use my powers but I was too weak... And then all of a sudden, he was on top of me, covering my mouth. He...he was so strong Garrett. He...hit me and then tried...."

You began to cry. Garrett's lips pursed intensely and he made you look up at him as he held your face in his toasty hands. He gazed at the purple and blue bruise between your eye and ear. The vampire's orbs blazed red in fury as he laid his hand upon it and healed the contusion.

"I am going to kill him this time, if they have not already. You said he tried....Josephine...what did he do to you? Please....please fucking tell me he did not...."

'No...although it was his intentions to do so...he didn't get the chance. Let's just say he's lucky his disgusting cock is still attached after what I did to it. But it only infuriated him and that's when he hit me. After that, I couldn't focus to fight him and that's when he drug me up to the deck and threw me over."

"What the fuck! Where was everyone?? Why were you all alone?!"

"I asked Legolas to leave. He said he would stay outside my door...I don't know what happened. I didn't see him or anyone when Asher took me to the deck. Garrett, you gotta get me back to the boat...Please. They must be out of their minds with worry."

Legolas stood at the rail where you went over. His and Haldir's second efforts to locate you had failed. Narcisse was with Julian trying to console him, although he himself was hurting. The Dorwinion Lord had come to care for you against his better judgement.

Haldir was in a state of denial as he went to speak with an extremely distraught Legolas who did nothing but stare down at the water.

"Legolas...she has to be alright. The pendant will keep her alive. Narcisse wants to take the boat back to dock so we can search the shorelines."

The Prince held his blinkless gaze in front of him.

"It will not keep her warm. It will not give her refuge. It was all for nothing, coming to this cursed mountain. I promised to keep her safe and I failed her. I have failed and lost my father as well and now...." Legolas couldn't even say it. "Please leave me...I wish to be alone for the grief is too near."

Haldir left and stormed over to Narcisse.

"Why...why have you not ended the existence of your deputy?!"

"I assure you, he will be handled accordingly. Do not stand upon my ship and question me elf." Narcisse snapped and turned away. He may have disliked Haldir but he respected him for how much he cared for you. The disgruntled warlock swallowed his pride and faced the marchwarden.

"I apologize for my anger. You have made great sacrifices in her honor. Legolas as well. It is quite clear she is very loved. I will raise the anchor and head back to shore so we can search on foot...but we must sail soon as the storm is vastly approaching from the west and we will all perish on the sea if we do not get ahead of it. These waves at the moment are nothing compared to what lies ahead."

Stephane's words disheartened Haldir intensely.

"Then Legolas and I shall perish for we will not leave her behind. If we must weather the storm and orcs on land for the night, then that is what we shall do."

Narcisse felt terrible as he glanced at Haldir. He certainly did not want to leave you either. "You are right. Land it will be, for I will not abandon her."

Haldir offered a shocked nod as he was slightly taken aback from Narcisse's change of heart. The Silvan elf only ever knew the warlock to be selfish and conceited, certainly not selfless or apologetic.

"You have made great sacrifices for her as well, even for Legolas and it has not gone unnoticed by me."

Just as Narcisse went to respond, something caught his eye.

"Haldir!! Look...there...is that?!"

There you and Garrett were emerging out of the forest and jogging up to the shore.

Haldir's eyes bulged. "Lady of light." he mumbled with exhilaration and then abruptly darted off to find Legolas.

Narcisse formed an uncontrollable smile as he sprung his arm up and waved to you.

You smiled back and frantically waved.

Garrett looked at you with a smirk. "The word, little one?"

"The word!" you urgently replied. It was a code between the two of you for when you wanted Garrett to take you away. He had once told you that if you ever needed saving or needed to get away, just say the word. The night your mother's secret about her and Thranduil's past rendezvous came to light, you had said that exact phrase to Garrett who immediately had understood it and whisked you away to his abode on Devil's Island.

Stephane watched with anxious anticipation for your arrival. His mind spun with thoughts of why he even cared so much.

Garrett scooped you up and bolted off into the air. Within seconds, you were standing on the deck of Narcisse's boat looking him right in his ocean blue eyes.

Stephane exhaled a deep sigh of relief and pulled you into an unexpected hug, shocking you and the vampire.

"Thank god you are alright." he professed as he squeezed you tight.

You lightly patted his back and squeaked in discomfort. "Yes, I am fine except that I can't breathe."

Narcisse jerked away with an embarrassed smile. "Oh! Oh sorry, forgive me....I..I do not know what came over me."

You gazed at him in awkward perplexity. "Right..ok then. Well...just don't let it happen again."

Of course my lady." he retorted with a sheepish but happy smile.

And then you saw Haldir running towards you with a most serious expression. He didn't slow down as he approached you, snatching you from the ground against his damp body, swishing you around in circles.

"We thought the worst. All of us, we desperately foraged the sea. How...how did you..."

A clearing of the throat was heard from none other than a gloating Garrett.

"I was observing from afar and saw that ape toss her overboard so I swam to her and pulled her to shore about a mile down. The undertow had rapidly carried her away, that is why you could not locate her."

Haldir hesitated with his pride to thank the detested vampire, but he was so grateful you were alive and safe so he swallowed that big lump of disdain he felt towards Garrett and did the right thing. Haldir offered his enemy a bow and a half smile which floored you, and quite frankly Garrett too.

"I offer you my gratitude for your heroic act, but nothing more."

That was the best Garrett was going to get and you were ok with that because at least Haldir tried. You placed your hand on your best friend's cheek and mouthed a soft thank you as your eyes smiled at him.

"I as well thank you for saving my daughter."

You turned to see your sweet father's worried face and you were instantly no longer angry with him.

"Daddy...." you sadly frowned and fell into his open arms. "I am so sorry daddy. You will always be my father. I love you so much. Always and forever, no matter what."

Julian's radiant blues filled with elated tears at your words as he cradled you in his arms. "As you are my daughter, mine and mine alone. How I love thee my child."

You pulled back as you sniffled and peered all around. "Where is Legolas?"

"He is up at the bow. I went to tell him about you but then Garrett had brought you here. I had to come see you first. Legolas...is not doing so well. None of us were as we believed we had lost you. He blames himself." Haldir explained.

"I..I must go to him."

You ran off to find the sorrowful prince. The others followed but kept a good distance to give you and Legolas some privacy.

As you came up behind him, you didn't even have to speak. Legolas sensed you and turned around in disbelief.

You smiled at him as tears flowed down your cheeks.

He slowly slid the straps to his gear off his shoulder and let it drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes as he took a step forward in shock. His eyes wide, his mouth open, the Prince then dashed to you and must have lifted you at least a foot off the ground as you both embraced each other, laughing and crying.

"Tell me it is real. That you are here and I am not dreaming. And if it is a dream, I do not want to wake." Legolas muttered into your neck.

You forced his weary head up and wiped his tears. "I am real." You took his hand and placed it under yours on your cheek. "See?"

Legolas smiled...and then noticed the others watching, including Garrett and he became unhinged.

"What is the wretched undead doing here?!"

"Legolas...stop. He saved me. He found me in the water and took me to safety and got me warm and dry, then brought me back here... to you."

Legolas appeared dumbfounded. "Warm? There is nothing even remotely warm of such a vile creature."

"You know...I have had about enough of your insults sprite. If not for me, who knows where Josephine would be right now. Even the good marchwarden here showed his appreciation for what I have done. Is it even possible that you could just be thankful instead of being a self righteous douchebag? This would not have even happened if you had been watching over her like you promised her you would!"

Haldir closed his eyes and lowered his head with a dreadful sigh as he awaited the heat he was about to receive from the disbelieving prince, but instead, Legolas ignored that comment and focused solely on the accusatory one.

"Garrett! This is not Legolas' fault! Look...I know everyone is reeling here...but what matters is that I am ok and we're all here together.....except for my....." You paused and had to contain yourself. "We need to heed Aragorn's warning of the oncoming storm and get out of here while we still can. I need to protect my daughter. I will not give birth to my child on a freezing desolate mountain being stalked by orcs or on a boat in the middle of the treacherous sea. Thranduil would not want this!"

"I could not agree more." Narcisse concluded.

"You know nothing of what my father would want Narcisse! And you....putrid vampire...do not talk to me of self righteousness. You who stand here demanding acknowledgement of something myself, Julian, Haldir and even Narcisse desperately tried to do." Legolas barked with justification.

"Why can't you answer the question Leggy? Where were you when Josephine was almost raped?!" Garrett fired back without thinking before speaking.

You gasped and gave him a shove. "Garrett!!"

"I'm sorry...but...he needs to know! They all do!"

"They do, but not like this! I would have liked to have told them myself..."

Stephane became unglued. "Is it true??!! Did Asher try to..." He halted as his lips clamped together as did his fists while he lowered his head trying to breathe.

"He...he tried, yes. But did not succeed. I handled him in quite a painful way and that's when he drug me up to the deck and dropped me over."

Legolas was appalled and disgusted...mostly with himself. "Josie...I...it....it is my fault. After I stood guard for sometime at your door, I assumed you had fallen asleep. All was quiet and I went to the back of the boat to join Haldir and Julian for a toast of wine to my father. I never could have imagined that Asher was free...."

"So you went to booze it up is what you are trying justify...You should have never left her alone!" Garrett snapped.

"If it is anyone's fault, it is mine! I am the one who called to Legolas." Haldir relayed in defense of his verbally attacked godson.

"Typical. The honorable Haldir taking the fall when no one forced Legolas to abandon his watch." Garrett sarcastically commented.

"That is what others do when they care about them, but you would not know of such a thing because no one cares for the likes of you." Haldir implied harshly to Garrett.

"I did not willingly leave my guard. But who are you to speak of defiling another when you willingly did so to Josie!" Legolas knew where to strike Garrett....right in the achilles heel and he succeeded perfectly in disabling the vampire.

The glare that Garrett cast to Legolas was murderous but also filled with shame, regret and guilt.

"Legolas!!! Stop!!! That is NOT what happened!" you cried.

"My father would disagree!!"

"But I do!! I do!!! Me!!.... Garrett, do not listen to...." You turned to see an empty space where Garrett had stood. He had taken off so fast, no one had noticed.

"Great!! That is just...fucking... great!" you shouted. "Narcisse...can we please go!!! Please...or I am going to lose what's left of my mind."

"Of course my lady." Stephane bowed and darted off.

The crew began raising the sails and releasing the anchor from the Rhun's dark depths. The waters had calmed temporarily and the last bit of daylight lingered but you knew that meant nothing good, for it was the eye of the storm. You had all waited too long and would eventually be blasted. You couldn't decipher what was worse...that...or riding it out on land only to be attacked by orcs and wargs....what was even worse though was leaving the place where you had last seen Thranduil. You had no choice....Leeanduil was your only priority and you now had to try to exist without your King but you knew in your heart you would fail miserably, if you didn't die first. You would make sure she lived though, even if it meant without you.

As the enormous craft began to move, the burning castle came into view. Your heart sunk at the fully engulfed structure as you watched it move further away.

You thought of Lestat. You didn't even get to say goodbye to him or Marius....or your grandmother Maharet. Your thoughts raced. Would you ever see them again? Where are they now? Where would they go? Was it your fault? Did Lestat blame you?

You made your way to the stern and sat down letting the brisk breeze flow through your hair, holding back the tears that dared to fall. The only sounds were of the rushing water sloshing beneath the vessel and the gulls flying and screeching in tow. The sky was hazy with smoke from the fire and the impending storm that steadily stalked the vessel's path as dusk crept up.

Your grief was clouding all your judgement and blocking you from realizing the truth. You couldn't feel Thranduil anymore, just numbness in your chest where your heart used to beat solely for him, but now there were only remnants of it after being ripped out. How were you still alive? If it weren't for Leann, you would tear the pendant from your neck and jump, in hopes to be reunited with the only one who had the power to make you whole again, for now you were just living in a shell with no soul. You cursed the fairytales you had believed in, for they were all just a big fat lie...a cruel fucked up joke. There was no happily ever after. Not without Thranduil. Just unbearable pain that filled the empty hole in your chest. There was no King to ride down on a great white horse and carry you off to his castle in the heavens while battling all your demons on the way. At least not anymore there wasn't, for he battled your demons and died because of it. If there was a hell on earth, you had found it. You always wondered how you would die and now you knew.

Memories were all you had left as they played like a movie in your mind. Even the simplest ones such as Thranduil pouring his glass of wine, or just watching him talk or look at you. The sound of your name rolling off his lips and his graceful movements. His bouts of anger and how it made him even more damn sexier than he already was. His smile, his eyes, his smell. his taste.

Your fists white knuckled on the rail as an overwhelming knot of despair suddenly arose in your core and traveled ferociously up your body and out of your mouth in the most heart wrenching scream.

"THRANDUILLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!"

(Please enjoy the fanvid I created below of Josie remembering Thranduil on her trip back to Dorwinion. It's a tear jerker...😪) Song is "The Other Side" by Ruelle

@redeemer46

Updated Masterlist

[cosplayproblemsposts]

Running and avoiding are much easier

Summary: It is hard to walk away from a certain set of beliefs and it's tough to be entitled to the game of immortality. The full moons of the werewolves and the infection of perversion, diseases of leaving are indeed hard but avoiding the entire thing is much easier.

Male character x male reader

Warning: Religious trauma and angst ending.

The concept of fear comes in many forms and the context of beliefs made it even more difficult and you hated it. The idea and the structure of solitude, it is nauseating to play along to the plague of being 'normal'.

"Oh don't be so dramatic Crowley, a date with a beautiful woman won't kill me" you exclaim to the displeased redhead. "Yes, it would this is the fourth brunette this week" you roll your eyes as Aziraphale finally sat down.

"Aziraphale back me up here, Crowley being his usual dramatic self" Aziraphale fiddles with his bowtie. You eye the blonde with disbelief "Oh you got to be joking, you can't be considering his little notion are you?". The blonde adverts his gaze to the demon "See angel here has a good head on his shoulders".

You weren't angry but disappointed in them, why believe in what your heart wants and not the logical and realistic alternative that stands as the right 'thing' and 'choice'. You huff and shimmy deeper into your leather chair "I-I'm deathly sorry Y/-" you cut him off with a loud scoff.

"Don't give me that!" Aziraphale looks at Y/N angry? frustrated? annoyed? expression. "Oh C'mon Y/N don't act like that, me and Aziraphale are just worried that's all" you wanted the easier way out of this conversation so you took it.

"We believe it would be better to find a healthier and easier way to cope with this internal fear," Aziraphale says after he collects himself. Crowley was about to add something else but you were up and making your way to the bookstore's entrance "I wish you two a lovely evening and cheers". "Oh do wait Y/N w-we just want t-" Aziraphales words were long forgotten and Crowley's chase came to an end.

2,100 BC the beginning of werewolves in ancient Greece and Rome is the year you met the two entities.

You were a wood carver and sculpturer who sold to the middle class and high class of Greece. Aziraphale eyes sparkle at the beauty of the smooth workings of art "tempt to purchase one or many".

A smooth greek accent of a middle age man steals the angel's attention "I admire your work, you are the one who molds this beautiful masterpiece?". You grin and nod with pride "yes I'm the one who brought my vision of love to life" Aziraphale lips part in a pure gold manner "L-love?". You hum "Yes the beauty of love" your eyes were intimidating but yet bold in color and illusion.

"How magical" Aziraphale swoons his gestures in an adorable fashion that made you chuckle. "I wish you could have seen the process, now that is the true work of love" Aziraphale could listen to you talk for an eternity if you allowed him to. "Ah yes the development and hard work you..." Aziraphale finally realized he hadn't even asked your name. "Y/N L/N" the angel smiles "Aziraphale" you whisper the blonde's name under your breath with no intention of forgetting.

"Aziraphale where are you?" the newfound voice made you meet this glasses-wearing male. "Oh there you are" this redhead approaches and just by looking at him, he is the total opposite. Aziraphale was white as snow and pure gold for him dark and rose gold "Oh I was observing this man's artwork".

"Oh yeah lovely now C'mon we are gonna be late" you frown all of a sudden "Late? late for what?". Crowley huffs as Aziraphale decided to answer your question "Poetry, a man named Andie reads his written work". You nod, you've heard of him and his crazy beliefs of wolf-like creatures "enjoy your poetry hour" Crowley nods "Yes we will, and good day to you". They were gone, you never felt so intrigued for quite some time.

A tall trench coat figure stalks down the busy streets "I'm not wrong to know what's right and what's wrong" you mutter out. "I know what I am and...their" slowing down in pace you realize where your steps have taken you.

A church is a building that is constructed out of break and wood. Installation to keep many warm and comfortable from the cold of the ungodly temptation "What have I become?" you wanted to throw your words away. You weren't yourself and you know that you'd be one of the happiest men alive if you weren't so afraid.

You made your way across the street to the standing church "light, white and firm" rambling in a whisper. Delicate and happy "Just set your mind and heart to the task before you and you would be free".

You took a seat in one of the many rows of pew chairs "open your heart and allow him in" with no warmth and no comfort. You felt absent from the two things instead you felt disappointment and doubt "why do I sit here in doubt".

Why is it hard to leave but easier to avoid the thought of leaving "are you okay?" a voice made you lightly jump. The priest's wife stares at him with curiosity "I'm fine just questioning a few things" she hums. "Why?" if you could you'd laugh for doesn't she see why "I believed I knew what it was to feel and understand love but it seems I don't".

She hums "Love can come in many shapes and sizes" Let's be honest you thought she'd just say something like the holy Christ. The sacrifice of the man himself and the power of gods love can save everyone and everything "I-I...thank you". This strange woman smiles and bids you farewell and leaves you there is a much lighter heart.

It had been months since you have spoken to the duo and the woman you decided to keep as a friend. The full moon couldn't be any rougher and dull "Y/N you need to see a doctor about your back" Anna recommends.

You shook your head "no, the transformations always leave me like this for a few days" Anna could only scowl. "You have a funny way of reassuring your friends" Anna watches your frown "I-I...oh be quiet". Anna laughs at your little embarrassed expression "I'm just teasing" Anna goes back to the menu. "What are you gonna order?" Anna asks which made you slouch "Steak".

"You ordered steak last time and time before that and the time previously" Anna points her index finger at you. "Okay!" you threw your hands up in defeat "the crab special looks promising" Anna wiggled her eyes brows at you.

"What?" Anna eyes the background scenery behind you "What are you looking at?". She quickly stubs your shoed foot under the table "Don't look silly" you groan "What is it then?". "You know I care about you right?" you nod as Anna sets one of her hands on top of your right one. "You can avoid a lot of things and" Anna has a problem with stretching out so much context, that's another way to put it I guess...She doesn't get to the point fast enough.

Annas' eyes advert upwards as if her eyes met another person's eyes "Gentlemen" she clears her throat and gives you an apologetic gaze before taking her to leave. You didn't look up or over your shoulder for the thought that she set you up made your stomach and heart twitch.

"Y/N, please hear us out" Arizaphale speaks first as Crowley goes off to fetch the angel a seat. "You have been quiet for seven months and you have been unreachable" Y/N wanted the angel to stop talking and leave him alone. "Seven months and five days" you mutter loud enough for the blonde to hear.

"Please, Crowley and I want the best for you, and if you deem it appropriate to end our friendship then... " Aziraphale smile falls for you wouldn't even spare him a glance. "Crowley, he hasn't budged" the demon makes a face "he can't be quiet forever Aziraphale". "Go away" the two stare at you "what?" Crowley says "I'm done, our friendship has grown cold and I'd like you two to acknowledge my choice".

"Of course, you two don't have to respect it but you can and you will accept it so... goodbye" with that your up and gone.

The two watch you leave the restaurant and no you weren't in a hurry and no you don't regret your decision for now. Yes, you'd regret it later on but you have so many years to get over it and they do too.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[fullfiresiren]

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

  — — — 5 years later — — —

 In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

[myelocin]

Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai​ ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

playlist

commissions | ko-fi

The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.”  To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.  

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.  

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.  

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.  

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.  

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.  

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.  

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.  

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.  

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

-

The rest of the night flows easy.  

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.  

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.  

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.  

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.  

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.  

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.  

Then he moved.  

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.  

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.  

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.  

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.  

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.  

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.  

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.  

Because after that, friends turned into something more.  

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.  

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.  

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.  

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.  

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.  

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.  

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.  

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.  

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.  

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.  

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.  

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”  

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.  

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.  

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.  

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.  

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.  

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”  

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.  

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.  

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

-

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

-

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.  

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.  

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.  

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.  

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.  

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.  

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.  

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.  

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.  

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.  

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.  

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.  

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.  

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.  

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.  

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.  

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

-

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.  

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.  

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.  

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

“The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.  

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.  

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.  

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.  

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.  

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.  

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.  

It’s been there, so here it still is.  

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”  

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.  

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”  

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.  

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.  

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

-

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.  

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.  

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.  

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.  

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.  

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.  

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.  

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.  

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.  

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.  

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.  

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.  

It hits you that it’s been a long day.  

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

-

He doesn’t sleep that night.  

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.  

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.  

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.  

Then again, you had always been one for truth.  

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.  

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.  

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.  

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.  

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.  

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.  

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.  

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.  

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.  

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.  

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.  

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.  

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.  

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.  

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.  

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

-

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.  

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.  

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.  

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.  

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”  

His grandfather wastes no second in countering.  “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”  

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau.  “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.  

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

-

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.  

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.  

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.  

I love you, it reads.  

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.  

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

-

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.  

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.  

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.  

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.  

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.  

-

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.  

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.  

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.  

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.  

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.  

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.  

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.  

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.  

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.  

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.  

What stays is what’s rooted.  

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.  

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.  

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.  

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.  

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.  

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.  

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.  

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.  

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.  

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.  

Steady, present, and timeless.  

-

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don’t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.  

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.  

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.  

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.  

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.  

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.  

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

-

Tokyo

-

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.  

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.  

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.  

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.  

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.  

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.  

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.  

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.  

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.  

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.  

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.  

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.  

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.  

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

-

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.  

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.  

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.  

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.  

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments.  Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

[melo-yello]

📚School Struggles📚 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku💥🪨 HeadCanons

Pairings: KiriBaku X Black!Reader

Summary: College AU! Reader falls behind in course work, and won’t tell anybody. But Kirishima and Bakugou find out.

A/n: I’m an adult who went most of my life with undiagnosed learning disabilities so this would just be comforting to me. Lil angst! Lots of fluff. Implied ADHD and Dyslexia.

📕🖊 First tests are handed back in four of your eight classes.You’ve failed all but one which you barely passed. You are asked stay back as yet another professor suggests you find a tutor

📕🖊You’re lowkey offended. You’ve never needed a tutor before. Up until recently your performance in other areas compensated for your less than stellar academics. You were in gifted courses all your life. You would just hafta try harder

📕🖊 Kiri and Baku are saving a spot in line for you by the time you meet them at the cafe when you shove the thoughts of failure out of your brain and perk up to your usual self

📕🖊 Kiri’s face lights up as soon as he spots you. “Over here, Babe!” He beams flagging you down. Like it was hard to make out the giant red head in a crowd. Especially with the large lean, continuously pissed blonde scowling at everyone right by his side.

📕🖊 “Hey,Dumbass.” Baku smiles slightly and pulls a hand from his pocket to offer you a hug and a kiss on the temple

📕🖊 Kiri pulls you by your waist into his torso kissing your forehead “What took you so long?” He asks letting you free from the vice grip he had on your curvy hips

📕🖊 “I got a lil turned around again.” You lie pulling Bakugou’s free hand into yours then lean into his shoulder. There’s something very comforting about how warm he is all the time. You wanted to snuggle into his back but PDA really isn’t his thing and you are already pushing it

📕🖊 “It’s a big campus, Teddy, you just have to get used to it. You just transferred. Me and Eiji can take turns walking you from class to class until you get the hang of it, you know?” Baku says trying to read your eyes. He could just feel something is off. Your box braids and the angle itself saves you from any further scrutiny.

📕🖊“You guys, gotta be pretty sprung to do that for me, ya know.” You quip smirking up at him then over to Kiri. “Fuck you too, Teddy Bear.” Baku huffs smirking *maybe he was wrong, unlikely* “Yea basically, Pebs. Liking who you date is super manly.” Kirishima laughs grabbing his tray.

📕🖊 You three finally sit in a small wrap around booth. Bakugou taking the middle spot today. You do your best to not zone out and hyper fixate on your test scores by making sure to laugh at Kiri’s jokes and nod along with Baku’s venting

📕🖊 You slide your fork in and out of your picked over food as you strategize how to fix your current problem without alerting your boyfriends. Before you knew it your table is quiet with two crimson gazes fixed on you

📕🖊 “You’re quiet today, L/n.” Bakugou says fixing you with a deeply fierce gaze which was his way of looking concerned. Sharpness of your actual name drew you from your thoughts in a instant. “Hmmm I think Kats has a point, L/n Y/n.” Kirishima says in between slurps of his smoothie. His red eyes practically dripping with curious concern

📕🖊 You make a quick split decision between the truth and charm. “Wow, my government. I must be in real big trouble.” You pout trying to flirt your way out of a more serious conversation. You poke out your plush bottom at Kiri while slipping a hand onto Baku’s inner thigh and gently squeezing before hitting him with the same seductive pout

📕🖊 Big Mistake!😳 Bakugou’s vermillion eyes widen before becoming instantly stern as he grips your wrist tight enough to hurt. “The fuck are you doing?!! I was being serious, Y/n! And in public?!! You’re fucking priceless!” The ash blonde hisses with angry pink cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you snatch your wrist back. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to...talk about it.” You mumble. “Then use your fucking words!” 😤 Bakugou kisses his teeth and stands so Kiri lets him out. “He’s just a little embarrassed, Pebble. I needa talk him down. You can find your next class right?” He sighs watching Baku storm out

📕🖊 “Yea. I’m sorry. Tell him, Kiri. Please.” You squeak sheepishly grabbing your stuff. “He knows but I will. He’s mad about other stuff.” He nods following after Bakugou

📕🖊 It’s intimidating to compete with their history at times. You couldn’t bring yourself to just dump all your issues on them

📕🖊 You’ve only been dating since summer and Kiri and Baku have been dating since their senior year in high school year. You guys are starting your junior year and are still learning each other.

📕🖊 You get lost a couple times before finding the right building. The noise in your head going nearly at light speed to wrap all the problems you’re having. The professor passes the test you’d spent majority of last night and early morning studying for. You felt confident until it was in your hands.

📕🖊 You chew the pen top trying to finish up the last 7 short answer questions when then alarm for 5 minutes left is given. You panic not even having started the true false section on the last page. You scribble down answers just as time up is announced across the classroom

📕🖊 Defeat washes over while you shuffle out the door. You reach in your pocket to dig out the card for Student Accomidation Services your World Civ professor gave you. Maybe this was something simple as a “processing problem” as she had explained when you visited her during office hours

📕🖊 A throat clearing pulls you from your thoughts. You jump stuffing both hands into your jeans card and all. Bakugou stood unreadable propped up on a wall only a few steps away from you. “Eiji, thinks we need to talk about the cafe. Plus he doesn’t get out of lab til 3:45, so you’re kinda stuck with me.” Bakugou mumbles offering his palm as an olive branch.

📕🖊 “He’s probably right. I don’t mind just you, Tuff Guy. I really am sorry though, Katsuki.” You sigh interlocking your fingers with his. “I know, Teddy. I wasn’t really mad about that anyways.” Baku concedes as you two stroll down the hall. “I didn’t hurt your wrist earlier, did I?” Baku asks softly opening the door and meeting your eyes with gentle concern. “Nah, You didn’t, King Explosion Murder.” You laugh giving his hand a firm squeeze before kissing it

📕🖊 The walk to your dorm is quiet and peaceful. He lets you settle your school bag before speaking again “I just feel like you’re still trying to hide parts of yourself from us, especially me,” He says looking into your eyes now, “Like you’ve been pulling back. Eijirou thinks I’m looking too deep, but I doubt it. I know I can be a little rough and mean sometimes...well a lot of the times. I’m not easy to get along with. But you know you can talk to us when you’re upset or if something bothering you... if I’m bothering you. I don’t like you feeling like you have to pretend to be ok if you’re not.” Baku finishes crossing his arms tightly across your chest.

📕🖊 You dig your nails into your palms mercilessly. You open your mouth to reply and reassure him but the words won’t come. Baku notices what you’re doing to your hands and steps closer to take them into his. He rubs slow circles into the backs of them. Hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to find your voice. “Kats, I’m...I didn’t me...I...Of course you’re not what’s bothering me.” you croak out just as tears roll down your face and Baku pulls you to his chest.

📕🖊 Your breathing hitches and you just let yourself be disappointed, confused, frustrated, and upset about the last month and a half of struggling and wondering why you couldn’t tell anybody and why no one was even noticing. But He did. Baku had noticed. He rocks gently as you tremble in his arms rubbing firm circles in your lower back.

📕🖊 You two stay like that for what seems forever. Once your breathing evens out Baku’s hold relaxes. He kisses both your temples.You reluctantly let go , so you can pull wrinkled failing test pages from your backpack. “Please don’t laugh at me, Suki.” You peep placing the cause of your meltdown in his hands not attempting to have your puffy eyes met his red ones. Lifting your chin so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Come on, Teddy Bear. I wouldn’t dare.” He nods with the most serious face

📕🖊 Bakugou is quiet for a while as he leafs through the exam papers. “Why didn’t finish any of them?” He asks “Time. I’m a slow reader.” You mutter back. “I’ve seen you doing homework for two of these courses and passing those, what’s happening?” Baku says staring in disbelief at the scores at the top of each exam.

📕🖊 You swallow the lingering fear of judgement. You place a hand at your temple to remind yourself of Baku’s earlier tenderness. “I get anxious. It gets so much harder to read when I’m that worked up, and I can barely focus once I start forgetting answers...I know it’s just a test. I guess...That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” You sigh shrug off your own explanation.

📕🖊 “Nope. Not dumb at all. Sounds like test anxiety to me. I struggled with that in high school . I didn’t know you were a slow reader, Teddy.” Baku says pulling your hand before you can dig your nails into it. “Yea. One of my professors thinks I have dyslexia and ADHD...but I’m not stupid sooo.” You hum rocking on your heels “That is not what either of those words mean, and I know you know that, L/n.” Bakugou growls he absolutely hates when you or Kirishima talk down on yourselves. “Yea but it feels like it though.” You sigh biting your lips

📕🖊 Before Baku can say a word, Kiri swings the door open. “Babes! Have you two hotties missed me?” The red head shouts coming through the door way smiling until he sees your puffy eyes and tense posture. “Bakugou Katsuki, I know you fucking didn’t?!!” Kiri questions suspiciously leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrapping a protective hold around your waist.

📕🖊 “The Absolute fuc-” Baku’s defensive rant is cut short as you kiss the hand holding yours to quiet him as you answer Kiri “No Eiji, he didn’t. I’m flunking like half my classes.” You huff meeting his eyes with quivering lips trying your best not to cry all over again

📕🖊 Kiri is stunted into complete silence. The only thing he can think to say is an apology to his boyfriend for jumping to conclusions. Last time he checked your GPA’s a lot more impressive that his. “How the fuck is that even possible? You transferred into the honor courses.” Kiri says completely baffled moving to where he could see your face.

📕🖊 You explain to your boyfriends all the things that have been tripping you up and confusing you. You detail how hard studying has been as far as staying focused and actually understanding lengthy test questions

📕🖊 Kiri has a million questions at first but stops half way through after Baku grabs your overnight bag and leads you out the door. “You’re gonna freak her out all over again, Shitty Hair, if you keep going at her like that.” He could tell you were getting overwhelmed, and might cry again “My bad, Pebs.” Kiri says kissing your cheek as he follows behind

📕🖊 Once you get back to their apartment and Baku askes for your help making dinner. He has you read the directions and ingredients to him. You stumble through most of it, but that doesn’t stop him from praising you as soon as you finish. He has since learned you and Kiri do best when told how well you’re doing vs his typical shouting method

📕🖊 The three of you set an assessment time with the Student Disability Services on campus that doesn’t conflict with the Boys’ schedules, because they insisted that they’d both be there to support their baby and wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses for an actual reason to miss it

📕🖊 Kiri helps you make flash cards for your next test. If he remembers nothing else from Baku’s tutoring sessions the importance of repetition is drilled into him...among other things. Each time you ask him how that went he’ll just shudder. “It was the most intensely terrifying experience of my high school career, and we fought villains pretty regularly.” Kiri deadpans before grinning like the Cheshire Cat and covering his head. “You’re full of fucking shit, Shark Week! I’m the best tutor you assholes could hope for.” Baku yells pushing Kiri’s face into his pages of notes.

📕🖊 The night before your disability assessment you find yourself tossing and turning at like 4:45 in the morning. Kiri repositions pinning you in place so you face Baku’s back. You trace soft shapes into him just before he flips meeting your eyes. “Lil early isn’t it, Babygirl?” He whispers brushing away a few stray box braids covering your face. You don’t bother answering and instead offer him your palm and he takes it without hesitation interlocking your fingers with his. “Nervous?” He hums when he feels the steady trembling of your hand.

📕🖊 “Katsuki, what if there’s nothing wrong with me? What if it’s just me? What if I’m just...” you trail off not sure if you want him to hear how much this subject shakes your confidence. Bakugou moves close enough for your foreheads to touch. “If you’re just not smart? Not even possible. Whatever it is me and Kiri will help you go beyond. I know this is scary, but every first usually is.” Bakugou smiles softly

📕🖊 “Bbbbbuuut maybe I’m just du-” You attempt to argue until a sharp nip on the side of your neck where Kiri was peacefully nuzzled quiets you. “Nope. Not a chance. Pebble, don’t talk shit about my girlfriend again.” He mumbles in a gravelly half sleep voice. He settles again and snakes an arm around hips as he tugs Baku into you with the other. You open mouth your more to defend yourself but KatSuki just bops your nose as he closes his eyes, “You heard, the sexy ass red mountain. You’re fucking smart. Go back to sleep, Kay?”

📕🖊 “Kay.” You sigh digging your face into the crook of Baku’s neck. You lay there out argued but feeling overwhelming loved, so you chose to let them win the debate. The boys hardly agree on most things so they were totally probably right about this one anyways.

📕🖊 You are on a very very short list of people who Bakugou Katsuki repeats himself for. Like boy lets you “huh?” the fuck out of him. He will often cup your face or hold your hands if he needs tell you something important b/c he understands you’re a tactical learner

📕🖊 Best believe that all your future successes in classes big and small will be celebrated you getting taken out for icecream and if it’s a graded paper they’ll put on the fridge like you’re in grade school. You find it a little embarrassing but it really makes you feel like you’re making progress

📕🖊 Kiri brings your favorite snacks for study sessions so he can reward you for right answers and staying on task. You call it “childish” at first until he shrugs “Oh my bad we can try something els-” about to put them away. “Noooooo no those are my favorites.” You nearly jump over the table. Kiri has a shit eating grin the rest of the study session

📕🖊 When giving directions from the passenger seat both Kiri and Baku typically do a good job of remembering you need them to point left and right

📕🖊 If you’ve had long day in tutoring and homework and you guys are watching anime Bakugou will read the subs to you. Sometimes if he’s in a particularly good mood he might even imitate a voice or two

📕🖊 Kiri would politely let you ramble about one of your niche interests and will help you get back to your point when you get lost in a tangent

📕🖊 Don’t let these two hear you call yourself “dumb” or “stupid” Kiri will just act like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying like deadass “Pebs, speak English please. Nope not catching that, Babygirl. Did you say you were a smarticle particle? An intelligent ass motherfucker?! Oh, of course you are!” While Baku is more like “Sorry what was that? I thought I heard a very accomplished and creative thinking ass bitch say something? A incredibly capable ass bitch say something?A smart ass bitch say something?” Your only response is yes and then you get a forehead kiss

[levisgirll]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 (𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

event: Cookiefics' cliche Collab @cookiefics

character: Levi Ackerman

prompt:  “I changed for you.” 

theme: modern au, high school/college au ♡  

synopsis: levi was known as the scariest looking guy in the whole high school, everyone was afraid of him because of his stoic expression and also because he was one of the leaders in the survey corps gang that ruled the school! everyone would avoid him, not talk or even interact with levi. but you did not care about all of that and just went to highschool like normal with your close friends. but everything changes when levi and one of his gang member interacted with one of your friends and it bothered you a lot. this both got your attentions, and with that levi now sees a real purpose of life because of you and he wants to prove to you that he is a good man (which you do notice), for y/n only.

➡ text: ahh I'm real happy that I was able to join cookie’s open collab event! I hope this turned out alright and you all like it 🥺❤️ for this fanfic, I decided to use the fact that was stated by isayama that if levi were to be in a highschool AU he would be in a group of bullies, so I will be using this! (I kinda lowkey see that too-) also I really like how this turned out (?), should I make a part 2? let me know :,) and if you enjoyed it please then leave a like or a reblog! 

a bit of angst (?), fluff, modern au, fanfiction ♡ —

Another day, going to high school. You were in your last year and just one more year and finally out of this damn place, Y/N wanted to graduate fast and just start university with her close friends. “Good morning sleepyhead!” your head was smack and you turned around ready to smack them back, and you clearly knew who it was . “Ugh Connie, I told you stop doing that!” You yelled out and tried to fix you hair. You let out a small smile when all your friends came by your side which where Sasha, Connie, Bertholdt and Jean! “Man, I’m not ready for history class at 8am! Mr. Erwin is just gonna be blabbering for so long.” Jean said with such a long sigh and you let out a laugh, “Yea, I’m probably going to doze off.” Bertholdt came by your side and opened the classroom door for you to enter first, “I’m gonna join you with that, lets seat at the back.”

As soon as you entered the classroom, you saw your seats taken by a bunch of scary mean looking guys. “Huh, who are they?” Jean said with a pissed look, you then noticed Armin being interrogated aggressively by a tall big looking guy. “What do you think you two losers doing? Can’t you see this seat belongs to me and the boss now? Screw off.” He said in a threating tone, and threw Armin’s books on the floor. Y/N was pissed and did not hesitate to react, “Y-Y/N Wait! That’s-” It was too late for Sasha to warn Y/N and they rushed towards the big looking guy and stood between him and Armin.

“Hey! What do you think you are doing?! Leave my friend alone you jerk!” You yelled out and turned around to look at Armin. “Hey, you okay?” But he just stood there with fear shown in his expression and you then felt a hand on your shoulder which startled you. “Hey....First, the name is Reiner...And second, do you even know who you are talking to?” You were taken aback by his comment, and as soon as it hit you, you just realized that you yelled out none other than one of the survey crops gang members and the boss that Reiner mentioned who was sitting on your seat was....Levi Ackerman!

Y/N was frightened but still, stood their ground and turned around towards Reiner, giving him a glare. “I don't care, respect others in this classroom. Besides, this seat is filthy right now cause you guys sat on it, so we don’t need it anymore!” Y/N pulled Armin’s arm quickly and told your friend to seat in the middle seats. You then noticed someone was looking at you, you turned around and noticed Levi was actually looking at you this whole time, he scanned your body, looking from down to up and both of your eyes met. ‘What....he isn’t mad at me?’ You wondered and turned around to look front of the classroom. Reiner was about to head towards you but Levi then spoke up and suddenly stopping him. “Leave them be Reiner. After all....we are ‘filthy’ to them.” Levi said in a sarcastic tone while he was crossing his arms, still looking at you from behind which you felt and that made you shiver. 

After many classes, you decided to meet up with your friends later on in the canteen as you headed to the bathroom. As you were walking down the hallway, you bumped into someone. “Hey Watch it!” As soon as you turned to look who you bumped into. It was...Levi. “Oh...It’s you who stood up for their friend. And....called us filthy.” He said in a calm and quiet tone and this made you get butterflies but also a bit nervous as he was actually speaking to you! Y/N then slightly blushed and turned their head quickly to the other side so Levi wouldn’t notice it, ‘What the hell...He’s actually good looking?!’

“Yea, Of course I would. Unlike you.” Y/N said crossing their arms and giving him a glare, “You are fast to judge.” Levi said with a slight chuckle, and leaned his back against the wall while putting his both hands in his pockets, still keeping his eyes on them. “Y/N...right? You are kind of interesting.” You eyes started to widen by what he said, and when you looked at Levi you could tell he was actually saying the truth. “But....you are an idiot. Don’t go around doing what you did today to Reiner to others, you will get in trouble.” Levi sounded a bit concerned, he then got off and started to walk ahead of you. ‘Is he worried about me?’ Y/N wondered and then took off.

It was no lie and a fact that Levi had been keeping his eyes on Y/N for quite a while and it turned out that Levi was actually curious about Y/N and he would always watch them during class, lunch time and would try to have small talks with Y/N sometimes and this had shocked everyone. Shocking how, Levi the most scariest guy in High school and the leader of a frightening gang was actually showing his soft side only to Y/N. Levi was in fact strongly attracted and interested towards Y/N as they were always honest, strong and had always been friendly and nice to everyone. It was then later on that the both of them had feelings for each other, but they would keep that to themselves, thinking the other did not feel the same way.

It was after school and Y/N crossed paths with Levi Ackerman who was with  Furlan and Isabel. Levi gave them a wave, signaling them to leave them be and Furlan sent a smirk to Levi and elbowed his shoulder which made Levi get a slight blush on his cheeks. “Oh, look who’s here.” Levi uttered sarcastically. Y/N gave out a sigh, thinking Levi would again tease them as he was doing it quite often nowadays, this made Y/N think that Levi probably hates them and that’s why he was teasing them as everyone said it was odd for Levi to pick on others. Although, everyone was misunderstanding that Levi was doing that for another reason.

“Back off Levi, I don't have anytime for your bullshit today.”  Y/N said bluntly and was about to leave him, but Levi quickly said after “What do you mean? I was gonna ask if you wanna walk home together, Idiot.” He said after coming beside you and ruffled Y/N’s hair. “W-What...Um okay.” Y/N was a blushing mess right now, as they walked side by side with Levi, their crush. ‘Did Levi actually say that? He is actually dropping me home?’ Y/N thought while they could smell his beautiful scent, and Y/N’s eyes then wondered to look at his attractive side profile, then to his undercut hair that was neat and clean. Levi then caught Y/N starting at him and they looked away quickly. “What? Did you shit or something?” He joked while looking at Y/N, “Huh?! N-No What the hell Levi!” Y/N lightly boxed his shoulder while their cheeks went red from being embarrassed. Levi loved seeing this side of them as they could see their reaction which he found cute. “What? I just asked, calm down.”

Y/N and Levi had a long afternoon walk, and the sun started to set down. He did not want to part away from them and wanted to spend a longer time with them, just their presence next to Levi made him forget about all his problems, issues, the gang he was trying to control and handle as many of them used their power to bully others in their High school and Y/N did mention to Levi how they hated that a lot which Levi agreed to. “Hey....” Y/N then said suddenly which got Levi’s attention and out of his thoughts, “Thanks, for dropping me home. But, I wanted to ask.” They said quietly and looked down as they held on their backpack tightly, “Hm, Go ahead.” Levi uttered in his usual calm tone to Y/N.

“I want to hang with you more! But, I promised myself I wouldn't hang out and be around bullies, so....if you want to be around me more. T-Then stop your gang bullying others! Everyone thinks you are like that too, but the more I am with you...The more I realized you aren’t like them. So, please prove them wrong. Ugh, just cause you are their leader, they are using that to their advantage and I don't like that!” Y/N finally spoke out their thoughts and was still looking down. Levi just stood there, and nodded, not saying a single word which meant that Levi agreed to what Y/N said and appreciated how they valued Levi as a person and not a bad guy and also how they knew the real him, trusting him was something he admired about Y/N a lot. But, he finally spoke and said, “I will...for you.” as soon as he said that, he turned around and left which made Y/N wonder the whole night what he told them.

The following day came, just another boring and tiring day as Y/N was finally leaving her high school as they stayed after school doing extra studying. But, that was not the case anymore as Y/N was approaching the school gate to leave, they saw a strange looking guy blocking the school gate which made Y/N nervous “Um...could you move aside?” They said to him and as soon as Y/N said that, the guy quickly went towards Y/N and held on their wrist. “So you are the one, who is changing him. Because of you....you ruined everything, even my plan!!” The guy was furious and he yelled out at you as he was tightly holding on to your wrist, Y/N winced from the pain and struggled to move their wrist away from him, “Stop it! That hurts.” Tears then started to run down from your cheeks and you closed your eyes tightly, wishing....Levi to come and save you, ‘Levi...!’

You suddenly felt your wrist not having anymore pain and his hand slowly leaving your wrist. You then opened your eyes and looked up and saw none other than Levi in front of you, holding the guy’s arm really tightly! “You are fucking dead, Zeke. Now you have done it, I’m not gonna let you slide this time.” You were shaken, frighten by what was happening and you started to worry for Levi. “L-Levi..!” You called out his name and Levi turned around to look at you and gave you a soft looking smile, “Don’t worry. I’m gonna sort this out. Wait for me near the park.” 

Y/N moved back slowly and was hesitant to leave Levi and go there all alone, “Hey. I’ll be there soon, so go on.” Levi reassured you, which made Y/N nod and turned around and started running towards the direction of the park. Y/N kept on running and running while tears were running down their cheeks, ‘What the hell is happening! Who is this Zeke guy?! Why did he come for me and what plan was he even talking about?!’ Your thoughts were running around your mind until you reached the park and you started to gasp for air.

As you sat on the swing, waiting for Levi, you started to overthink and wonder if anything bad happened to him. But, your phone distracted your thoughts as it started to ring with so many notifications, you opened your phone to see your school group chat talking about the fight between Levi and Zeke. Apparently, Zeke was the one who was brainwashing the survey gang members, and making them bully and hurt other students and one of them were Reiner. This then made sense why Reiner was being rude to Armin the last couple of weeks and it was Zeke’s plan to make every member of Levi’s gang to later on go against him, making Zeke the leader instead. Everyone talked about how intense the fight was and that Levi finished him off by knocking out Zeke.

“Levi....Please come back...to me.” Y/N began to whimper, missing Levi by their side, and feeling sadness slowly taken over them with more tears coming from their eyes. “Oi, Stop crying.” Y/N felt a hand suddenly on the top of their head, which was being caressed slowly. It took them a minute to process what was going on and then finally realizing that Levi was standing in front of them! Y/N quickly jolted from the swing and brought their arms around Levi’s shoulders, hugging him tightly and not wanting to let him go. “You Jerk! What took you so long?! I was so w-worried”. You were now tearing up even more, but this time...it was happy tears, and you were glad to know that Levi was finally by your side. He did not hesitate to hug you back and was glad you did that actually, he then proceeded to softly rubbed your back, but he was shocked to see the strong willed person he loves in tears, which then made Levi blame himself that he was the cause of this. 

After you have calmed down, they pulled away from Levi’s shoulder and looked up at him. “I left.” Levi finally said and your eyes widened, the cold breeze slowly blowing your hair as you stood there shocked while looking at this grey eyes that never left yours. “The gang. I’m done for good now.” Levi gave you a smile, a smile that he was glad by his choice and the one who pushed him to go for that choice was none other than y/n.  After the rival fight, Levi promised himself to disband the gang for good, leaving no one being there anymore and the bad kids leaving as they did not have Levi anymore on their side and to use to their advantage. Although, this decision would not even cross his mind if he haven’t met Y/N. They changed his life and made him see things in a better perspective, it was also because Y/N did state that they wouldn’t want to hang with someone who was around with people that bullied others and Levi did not want to lose them. From now on, Levi wants to make you happy, protect/support you and be your shield, you were his sunshine and someone he would cherish and wants to be by your side for the longest time. 

Levi went closer to Y/N and placed his hand on the side of their cheek, and he slowly caressed it with his thumb, rubbing away the tears that stained their cheeks. “I changed for you.” Y/N stood there blushing after hearing what Levi said and as soon Levi saw Y/N’s red face, his ears then his whole face went red too! Now realizing that Levi actually did this all just for Y/N and the promise they told Levi, that was the main reason to it all. “I can see an idiot here.” Levi said bluntly and that caused Y/N to look around, seeing who he was referring to. “Huh, Where-” Their words were taken aback by Levi flickering their forehead. “Right here.” Levi then started to give out a small laugh as Y/N brought their hand on their forehead, while still y/n’s cheeks still being red. “H-Hey! Why do you keep teasing me like that!”

Levi then grabbed y/n’s hands and held them up, and as he was holding it tightly your hands were now being warmed up. “Can’t you tell? I teased you....cause I like you.” You then started to recall all the times where he did tease you but it was only to you, and he would not do that to anyone else, he would only show his soft side to you, and his gentle kind-hearted side was something you only knew of. This then made you get butterflies and you started to get a fuzzy feeling which Levi did too. 

It was indeed a long evening, but the atmosphere and the feelings you both had and shared spoke it all and Levi then promised you that he would do his best to take care of you, make you happy and also....be the best boyfriend for you, which you agreed to! 

BONUS: One day, Y/N was going to the supermarket and they bumped into Kuhel Ackerman! She looked absolutely beautiful and you then figured that’s how Levi got his good looks. “Oh you must be Y/N! My son mentions you a lot at home, but he is too stubborn and shy to talk about you! Are you both perhaps together?” She would say with a big smile, she was really sweet and nice, you both shopped around and got along pretty well. She then asked if you could come over for dinner one day which you agreed to and when Levi found out about that, he was a blushing mess that evening. And how the tables turned how now his mother was now teasing him instead which made you giggle.

[silverbyeol]

When We Collide - Tom Holland

Summary: A close encounter with death, brings on a new relationship (This summary sucks, but I don’t want to give anything away) 

Author’s Note: Not sure if this classifies as angst, but the ending is kind of sad... but lots of fluff all throughout! 

Word Count: 3.6K

“That’s a wrap for today everyone, have a good day and I’ll see you all on Friday,” the male producer said, there was some light mumbling throughout the cast and everyone disbursed soon after.

“Hey, Tom!” yelled a male voice, stopping the brunette in his tracks, “Would you like to hang out with us? We’re going to grab some drinks at a pub?” Tom looked over at the owner of the voice, one of his co-stars.

“I would, but I already have plans for today. Definitely next time,” the male replied with a smile. Truth be told, Tom didn’t really have any important plans. They were shooting a movie in London and all Tom wanted to do was walk around and enjoy the feeling of being home for a while.

The male walked into his trailer and changed out of the outfit he wore on set and into something more comfortable, jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and, before leaving the set, put on a black cap and dark shades, to mask his identity. It was nice to get away from fame and responsibilities for a while and just lead a somewhat normal life.

The streets of London were always busy with people walking about, minding their business, and tourists snapping pictures of every nook and cranny. The weather was gloomy today and there was really no reason to wear shades outside. He probably looked crazy, but Tom went unrecognized as he made his way towards his favourite cafe- ready to enjoy some afternoon tea and maybe even read a book. The cafe was located in a part of London that was rarely crowded. The brunette turned a corner, and there it was; the cafe was standing just across the street. He stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the signal to turn green.

On the other side of the street stood a young female. She had a pair of over-ear headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. The male looked her over, admiring how cute she was. She had a black and white striped top on, paired with black cargo jeans, and a black Nike duffle bag across her chest. She looked as if she was coming back from the fitness center. The light turned green for them to cross and the female looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars. She quickly looked back at her phone, missing the vehicle that was speeding down the road.

Everything moved so fast. She was about to get hit and without thinking, the male took off running towards her, ready to push her out of the way. Everything started moving in slow motion and for a split second, he saw her eyes widen with fear as she looked up from her phone and noticed the situation unfolding. Tom quickly grabbed the girl's waist, lunging the two onto the ground, right in front of the coffee shop.

‘This definitely hurts less at the studio…’ he thought and fluttered open his eyes, meeting fearful e/c ones.

“Are you okay?” the female asked as she lay on top of Tom.

“I’m fine. No big deal,” he grunted out. It was actually a big deal… His head and back hurt from the fall and his hands were scraped from sliding on the concrete. “Are you okay?” he in turn asked her as he scanned her face for any injuries.

“I’m fine… I- ermm…” she stuttered and quickly got off the males body, sitting down on the ground next to him, “Thank you- I don’t- Everything just happened so fast…” she said with a shaky voice as if the events finally hit her. The car was long gone and there were no other people walking by as the incident occured.

“What a bloody arsehole, he shouldn’t have been going so fast,” Tom said and frowned. The female's things were all over the ground and right in the middle of them were his sunglasses. His eyes met with the girls, yet she seemed to not recognize that he was famous, “Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital?” he questioned, concerned about her well-being.

“I’m alright. Thank you… I’m not sure how I could ever repay you for saving my life… you even got hurt,” she said as she studied his scraped hands.

“There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” she answered and the couple stood up from the ground.

“I’m Tom. Pleasure.” he replied, looking into her eyes for any sign of recognition, but nothing.

“Can I at least buy you a cuppa or coffee?” she asked and motioned towards the shop. Tom warmly smiled at her.

“Sure.” The two grabbed their things and collected themselves before going into the shop.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you two?” asked the barista. Tom and the female awkwardly approached the counter.

“I’ll have a flat white, please,” the female by his side said.

“Two of those,” Tom added. Y/n started digging in her bag, most likely looking for her wallet.

“10 pounds.” the barista said and Tom swiftly handed the barista the orange/brown coloured bill.

“Wait… what are you-” Y/n said in confusion.

“Let’s go sit down,” Tom interrupted and led the two towards an empty table.

“You’re way too kind…” Y/n said when the pair sat down. Tom chuckled.

“Making you pay wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” the female smiled at him and the barista came over to the table, setting down two small cups.

“Thank you.” they both said and Y/n picked up the cup and took a small sip, making Tom stare. Being a celebrity, he never had meaningful conversations with strangers. Everyone either wanted a photo or autograph, so it was hard for the male to make connections with regular people.

“What's up with the shades?” she asked, hoping to see more of the strangers' faces.

“Oh....” Tom mumbled and took off his glasses and cap. There was no one in the shop besides the pair, it was fangirl free, “It’s a habit.”

“Makes you look kind of dodgy...”

“Does it…?” he mumbled more to himself than the girl. She looked more calm than before as if the incident was long forgotten. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. Y/n took a second to examine the male. He had brown hair and a pair of matching brown eyes. His baby face made him look like a puppy. He was cute. Her eyes traveled to his arms, they were slightly veiny, he was most likely fit and worked out a lot. Her eyes looked at his hands that were red and had scratches from the fall.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tom said, wanting to keep the mood light.

“Me? I’m honestly not that interesting…” she said and looked down at her lap, “I’m a ballet dancer, I don’t really have time for much else…” she continued, picking up Tom’s interest.

“You dance? I took ballet classes when I was a child. I was even in the Billy Elliot musical-” Tom said and suddenly felt nervous. (Y/n) didn’t seem to know who he was. It was nice to be normal and treated like a regular human, not a famous actor, “when I was in secondary school,” he added.

(Y/n) looked up with interest, “I didn’t realize you were done with school… you look so young,”

“I’m actually 24,” Tom said. The female looked at him with wide eyes.

“You look so young…” she repeated and Tom took another sip of his coffee, “Did the ballet thing work out for you or are you pursuing different things?” This was Tom’s chance to tell the female that he was a famous actor.

“No, I decided to do other things,” he started. He decided that he liked the feeling of being unknown, “I work on movie sets… bunch of random things, honestly.”

“That’s cool. Do you get to meet a lot of celebrities?”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

The two sat in the coffee shop until the sky turned dark, talking about anything and everything. The longer the two talked, the more Tom started to fancy the female. Despite what she thought, she was interesting and very kind. He never met someone like her, and he definitely wanted to keep getting to know her.

“It’s almost 9…” she said with a tired sigh, “I should get going. I have rehearsals in the morning.”

“I should get going too…” Tom said, slightly disappointed…

“Despite the circumstances, it was so nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for saving me.” she said and started getting up. He didn’t want their conversation to end, if she let him, Tom wanted to keep in touch with the female.

“Wait!” he called out and she looked at him, sitting back down, “Do you mind if I get your number? I would love to take you out on a date, or just hang out,” there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Ummm… yeah- of course…” (Y/n) felt her cheeks get warm. It’s been a while since someone asked her for her number or even asked her out on a date. Tom gave her his phone and she typed her number in.

“Have a goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Have a goodnight, Tom.”

Tom could not concentrate on set. All he could think about was the girl with the e/c coloured eyes. After the encounter, Tom texted the female that night to make sure she made it home safe. Ever since, they’ve been sending messages back and forth constantly. He wanted to take the girl out on a proper date, but that was slightly difficult. Public spaces meant lots of potential fangirls and the male was not ready to reveal his status yet.

“Holland!” yelled a strict male voice making Tom come out his daydream.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter with you?” the director asked, annoyed that they had to reshoot the same scene for the fifth time.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot on my mind.” he replied, making the director sigh in defeat.

“Alright. Why don’t you take the week off, yeah?”

“Oh, okay.” he replied, his thoughts going back to Y/n.

“And make sure you come back to Earth by then!” the male yelled and stormed off, annoyed about having to make a new shooting schedule for the week. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone:

Tom: Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Tom: Totally fine if you don’t

Tom: Don’t want to pressure you

To say that the male felt stupid was an understatment. Why was he so nervous? He barely knew this girl for a week and she made him feel like a teenager who was helplessly chasing their crush around. He looked at the screen, three little dots appeared and a message suddenly popped up:

Y/n: I would like that

Tom: Great! I’ll pick you up at 6! Text me your postal address.

Tom sat on the sofa in Y/n’s flat as they watched Citizen Kane on her small telly. The female was laid down, her legs laying on top of his as she balanced a big bowl of popcorn on her belly, occasionally munching on the snack. Tom looked away from the noir film, his attention purely on his girlfriend. The pair have been dating for nearly half a year and Y/n was still unaware that her boyfriend was an A list celebrity. Of course, Tom wanted to tell her, but they’ve already gotten so far into their relationship that he was scared of how she might react to the news.

“You know… I’ve never been to your flat,” the female said and stuffed some popcorn into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the telly.

“Is that something you would like to do?” Tom questioned.

“I mean… We always spend time here. Why haven’t you invited me over? Are you hiding a secret family from me?” her eyes met his and he saw the playful gleam behind her orbs.

“You caught me. My wife and kids wouldn’t be too happy to find out that I enjoy spending my time more with my mistress than them,” Y/n picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it at him, landing it right in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s what you get, Mr. Holland… or is that even your real name?” she said glaring at him, but a smile was plastered on her lips. Tom grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her belly and placed it down on the floor. He quickly got on top of her, using his forearms as support to hover over her.

“Would you like to come over tomorrow then? I could cook us dinner?” he questioned as he looked all over her face, admiring every little detail.

“That sounds lovely. Your wife and kids won’t mind?” she giggled.

“No. I’ll make sure they’re out by the time you get there,” he said and dipped down to capture her lips.

Tom was nervous about his girlfriend coming over, and not because he had a secret family. Tom did not mind that his girlfriend lived in a flat that only had one small bedroom and a common area, nor was he worried about her being materialistic and only keeping him around for the money. She didn’t have much, but she liked to spoil him with small gifts here and there with whatever money she had left from her paycheck. It was bad enough that he drove around in a Porsche, but he lived in a luxurious two story flat on the outskirts of London. If she were to ask questions, how was he supposed to explain where his wealth came from? What if there were paparazzis situated outside his home? He wanted to tell her about being Spider-man on his own time and this could potentially out him.

“I thought you lived closer to the city…” Y/n said looking out the window, watching as they got further from the center of London.

“I prefer staying out of London… It’s always so crowded and the traffic is horrible.” he replied as he pulled into the carpark. Y/n smiled in anticipation. The building of the flats looked really modern, as if they were built recently. She knew that this place must have been expensive to live in. The couple walked inside the building, his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the lift.

“Mr. Holland.” the doorman greeted, with a kind smile.

“John. Good evening.”

Once inside the lift, Tom swiped his key card and pressed the button for the highest floor. Y/n looked around, slightly feeling out of place. She knew that Tom worked in the film industry, but she didn’t expect him to be loaded. The door to the lift opened and the girl's eyes went wide with shock as she was met with a spacious flat and huge windows that were facing towards the center of London.

“Woah… You said you did what?” the female questioned as she looked out the window.

“I work on movie sets… which reminds me,” he said and came up behind the female, wrapping his arms around her middle, “There is a private screening tonight of the movie I was working on when we first met. It would mean a lot to me, if you came along to watch it.” he said, kissing his girlfriend's cheek.

“Am I allowed to?”

“Of course. You’re my plus one, love…”

The couple finished their dinner before going to see the private screening. Most movies would be shown to the cast and crew before they officially premiered in Hollywood. This showing was meant for the UK team only. This was the moment that Tom would confess who he actually was. His heart was pounding against his chest as he and Y/n sat down in the chairs in the screen room. There were only five others there.

“What’s this movie about?” questioned the female.

“Superheroes.” Tom responded with a bit of a smirk on his face. This was going to be the first time he’s seen the final product, so he wasn’t completely sure when Peter Parker was going to make an appearance. The Marvel logo played and transitioned into a poor quality memorial video of all the Avengers that died during the Thanos battle. The scene continued with two teens as they were giving a morning announcement to their school. Tom looked over at his girlfriend who looked confused, she must not have watched any of the marvel movies. The scene ended and there he was… It was always weird seeing your own face on a big screen.

“I have a plan!” his character started, talking about how he was going to woo MJ in Paris. Tom looked over to his right. Y/n had her mouth wide open as she watched her boyfriend speak in an American accent. She looked at the screen and slowly turned her head to look at her boyfriend as if trying to confirm that it was the same person. Five minutes into the movie and there he was in his Spider-man suit talking at a fundraiser. Y/n grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up, walking out of the screening room, having seen enough.

“Shit…” Tom mumbled and raced after her, “Love, wait!” he yelled, but the female kept walking until she got outside. Not knowing where to go, she stopped in her tracks, “Y/n…”

“You’re Spiderman…” she muttered lowly and Tom almost didn’t catch it.

“I-” he started saying, but she quickly cut him off.

“This is mental. You’re Spiderman and you forgot to mention that your job entails you to actually be the main character in the film?” she said and turned around to look at him. She looked sad, almost disappointed. Tom was at a loss for words.

“You’ve nothing to say?” she tutted and started walking in a random direction, away from the male.

“Babe! Wait!” he yelled and ran up to stand in front of her to block her way, “I was scared okay… Everyone who I ever meet on the street wants a photo or autograph. When I met you, you made me feel normal for once, not like I’m some object that belongs in a museum. I know that keeping this from you was bad and I am truly sorry,” her eyes sparkled in understanding as she listened to the male speak, “I don’t want to lose you.” he ended, his eyes slightly glossy. Y/n sighed and leaned over to give him a kiss. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, fearing that this would be the last time he would be able to feel her lips.

“I understand if you want to break up-”

“Shut up and kiss me, you bloody git.” the female giggled, making Tom smile and lean in for another kiss.

…

“Don’t lie to me ever again.”

“Never.”

It’s been about five years since the couple started dating. Tom was ready to ask Y/n to marry him. He was going to propose on their anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how or where; all he knew was that he was ready to call her his forever. The male walked into their shared bedroom where the future Mrs. Holland was already in, laying under the covers, dozing off. He slipped in and pulled her close to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispered as he kissed her neck, earning a tired reply…

“I love you, too…”

~~~~~

   "He's waking up!"

   "Tom!"

   "Can you hear us?"

   "TOM!" slowly his eyes opened and he met a white ceiling.

   "Where am I?" he groaned and looked over to the side, his mom was there looking at the male in worry.

   "You're in the hospital, Tom. You've been in a coma for six months..." his mother said in a calm voice as tears spilled from her eyes.    

   "Mum? Where's Y/n? I need to see her, is she okay?" Tom questioned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was pounding as he tried to recall the accident.

“Woah… you need to stay in bed, Thomas. Who’s Y/n?” his mother asked, concerned.

“My girlfriend… I was going to propose to her.” Tom let out.

“I’m going to go get a doctor. Please don’t move.” his mother said and left the room.

“What happened?” Tom groaned and he held his head.

“Your director called us after you didn’t show up for the shooting…” spoke up his brother, Harry, who was sitting on a chair, on the opposite side where his mother just stood, “You and some girl got hit by a car just outside a shop in London.”

“Coffee shop?” Tom questioned, his headache starting to ease.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Where’s the girl?” Tom questioned, curious what was happening.

“Just in the other room. They haven't been able to identify her.” Harry finished, concerned about his brother.

“Can you take me to her?”

“You just woke up… No way…” Harry said as he frowned at the older male.

“I need to see her…” Tom pleaded, making his brother sigh. Harry got up from the chair and rolled over a wheelchair that was located on the other side of the room. He helped his brother on it and wheeled him towards the room next door. The pair of brothers stopped just outside a window that looked into a patient's room. The shape of her face, the colour of her hair- everything about her was so familiar. She had lost a little colour on her skin, probably due to being in a coma and light bruises littered her body. He couldn’t see the colour of the girl’s eyes, but he was sure that he recognized her.

   She was the same girl who Tom was going to propose to. That girl was Y/n...

Thanks for reading, lovely~ 

[blazingparker]

tony finds out that peter wants to propose. marriage = very scary thing for tony. tony panics. peter mishears and thinks the issue is that tony doesn’t want to marry HIM. [misunderstandings + breaking up then making up + angst w/ a happy ending].

thanks sooo much for this prompt, anon!!!! i changed it a little so they didn’t break up but they do have a big fight and make up. It’s also a little shorter than i wanted since i can’t really type still due to my wrist injury but i didn’t want to make you wait any longer. i really hope you enjoy this!

read it on ao3!

---

But Your Fears Get in the Way

Peter was going to propose.

Holy shit, Peter was going to propose.

It wasn’t like Tony had meant to overhear, okay? It wasn’t his fault Peter had assumed Tony was in the lab, not in the living room when he got back from patrol.

“Yeah, Ned, I got the ring. No, I don’t know when yet. I’ll let you know. I just-I want it to be perfect, you know?”

Tony had reacted wonderfully, if you must know. He most certainly did not pretend to be asleep on the couch so Peter wouldn’t know he’d overheard, and he definitely did not avoid his boyfriend as much as possible in the following days. It was a shitty move, and Tony knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t marriage material. What he and Peter had - it worked. If they changed it, if they got engaged, Tony would ruin it. He knew that, and he needed Peter to know that before he lost the best relationship he’d ever had because of his own inability to stop fucking up.

It was just a question of how to bring it up to Peter without breaking his heart and ruining everything anyway. Which was why he’d asked Rhodey to come over and help him out. Tony wasn’t the greatest with words and knew he needed to practice with someone before going out and essentially tell his boyfriend ‘Hey, I overheard you the other day. Sweet gesture, but I’m not marriage material.’

“Tony.”

Tony looked up from the Iron Man gauntlet he was in the middle of repairing to find his best friend standing in the middle of the lab, looking very irritated.

“Hey honey bear,” Tony snarked, sitting back in his chair and setting his tools down.

“You do realize you asked me to come over here, right?” “Course I do.”

“Well, then maybe next time you could put down your toys the first time I call your name instead of the fifth.” Rhodey gave Tony a little smirk and crossed the room, sitting down in a chair across from Tony. The genius ran a hand over his face, looking genuinely apologetic - a rare occurrence for him.

“Sorry, Rhodey. I just-this has got me really shaken up,” he admitted. Rhodey tried not to let his shock show, knowing Tony would shut down and shut him out if he looked like he might be mocking him or not taking him seriously.

“You said Peter wants to propose?” He asked, Tony nodding to confirm the information he’d shared over the phone. Rhodey whistled lowly and blew out a breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s big stuff, man.”

“I know it’s big stuff!” Tony almost yelled, reining it back in at the unimpressed look the other man shot in his direction. “I just-I can’t let him. I can’t let him propose. But if I stop him beforehand, I’ll break his fucking heart and he’ll know I overheard him the other night. If I say no, that’d be even worse. If I say yes, I’m just prolonging the inevitable break-up.”

“Why would it be an inevitable break-up? Peter loves you. You’ve been together for four years, Tony. That’s plenty of time for someone to decide their relationship is or isn’t going to work and then act accordingly. Clearly he loves you a whole lot if he’s bought the ring and everything like you said.” Rhodey tried to keep any judgment out of his tone, wanting to understand and not aggravate his friend.

“Because that’s what I do!” Tony exclaimed, standing up so fast his chair rolled backwards across the lab floor. “I ruin relationships. It’s honestly a fucking miracle this has lasted this long, you saw how Pepper and I were before.” Rhodey didn’t disagree - Tony and Pepper had been a hot mess. “I ruin relationships, but I haven’t yet with Peter! So everything needs to just-just stay the same so that I can continue to not fuck it up. For once in my life.”

There was silence after that, Tony’s chest heaving as he breathed in heavily and tried to calm himself down. Rhodey stood from his chair as well, crossing the room to his best friend and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Tony almost seemed on the verge of tears, something he’d only seen a handful of times before.

“I don’t think you could ruin what you and Peter have,” Rhodey said, holding up a hand when Tony immediately opened his mouth to argue. “But if you’re that worried about it, tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Tony asked, and Rhodey took a second to think about how to phrase his next words. He thought Tony’s fears about ruining his and Peter’s relationships were uncalled for, but they didn’t come from nowhere. There was real fear there that needed to be addressed. Both men were so deeply engrossed in their own thoughts and their conversation that neither noticed the lab door easing open slightly and a head full of fluffy brown curls peeking in.

“Tell him you can’t,” Rhodey eventually suggested. “Just-tell him everything you told me. Talk it out with him. Tell him you’re not ready for marriage yet but that you still love him.”

“I’m not ever going to be ready.”

“Then tell him that, Tony. Tell him you can’t marry him. But tell him, not me.”

The two men jumped at the sound of the lab door slamming shut and swift footsteps running down the hall.

“Who was that?” Tony asked, thoroughly confused.

“It seems Mr. Parker is leaving the building in quite a hurry,” JARVIS spoke up. Tony’s entire chest filled with dread and the room was suddenly entirely too cold. Peter had heard. How much had he heard? Didn’t matter, he heard enough to just leave. He’d done it again, he’d ruined the one good thing he had left--

“I’ve ruined this already,” Tony wheezed, finding it difficult to breathe. Rhodey’s hands landed on his arms, his best friend coaching him through taking some deep breaths.

“You didn’t. We both made a pretty huge mistake, but we can fix it. Let’s go talk to him, we can explain.” Tony shook his head, placing his hand on Rhodey’s and removing it.

“No, I need to fix this. Thanks though.” He gave Rhodey a weak smile before rushing out the door, following JARVIS’ directions up to the penthouse.

-

“Peter!” He called out as the elevator doors opened. He heard shuffling in their bedroom and ran over to the doorway.

Peter was packing a bag. That feeling of dread in Tony's chest intensified as he took in the scene.

“What?” The younger man asked coldly, shoving clothing into his suitcase in a hurried manner that was so unlike him. Usually he treated his things with more care, folding each item carefully before placing it gently in Ben’s old suitcase.

“Just-stop packing, okay?” Tony walked over to where the suitcase rested on the bed and gently tried to block Peter from placing another shirt inside. Thanks to Peter’s ridiculously good reflexes, he was unsuccessful.

“Why? So I can keep listening to the bullshit you and Rhodey were spewing downstairs?” Peter asked, and Tony sighed as he continued to pack. Eventually, the billionaire just started taking the clothes back out of the suitcase, something Peter squawked at. For a few moments, there was just a flurry of movement as Tony took clothing out and Peter rushed to put it back in.

“Knock it off!” Peter cried out after a few moments, catching Tony’s wrists in his hands and holding them tightly.

“Then hear me out,” Tony said, trying to stay calm for them both. On the inside, though, he was terrified. And maybe a little turned on by Peter manhandling him like that--

Focus, Tony.

“Fine,” Peter practically growled as he released Tony’s wrists and took a step back from his suitcase. “Talk, then.”

“First of all, what you heard was taken wildly out of context,” Tony started, and Peter immediately scoffed and rolled his eyes. The younger man crossed his arms over his chest defensively, taking a few steps back from his boyfriend and fixing him with an incredulous look.

“Oh, so you weren’t talking about how much you don’t want to marry me? How you can’t?” He spat out, the words seemingly spearing directly through Tony’s heart.

“Peter-”

“Don’t Peter me. If you didn’t want to marry me, you could have just fucking said so!” Peter said, clearly distressed but trying to hold back tears. “No, but instead-instead, you strung me along for four goddamn years only to tell your friend that you can’t marry me instead of telling me! Do you not see how fucked up that is, Tony?! The second you overheard me you should have come to me instead of avoiding me like the plague! I thought I’d done something wrong, but I guess the only thing that I did wrong was loving you too much.”

“I-”

“No, I’m not finished,” Peter said, pointing at him. Something in his gaze, in the way he held himself in such a defensive way that he’d never been around Tony before, made the genius shut up. “Four years is plenty of time to tell me you don’t want to marry me. Plenty of time for you to let me go so we can both move on. Why didn’t you? What did you think was going to happen? That we were just going to stay boyfriends forever? Newsflash, Tony, in adult relationships there’s this thing called commitment.”

“I have been wholly committed to this relationship for four years, Parker,” Tony growled, more than a little bit of anger peeking through the fear at those words.

“Congratu-fucking-lations! You’re not acting like an adult though, are you? Committing to a relationship means commitment for the future, too! Not just right now.” Peter yelled - he was yelling now - and something inside Tony broke.

“I never said I didn’t want to marry you!” He yelled, and both of them fell into a shocked silence. Tony never raised his voice - not at Peter, anyway. Sure, they’d fought before, but Tony was usually calmer and when he did get angry he never yelled like that. They both took a few breaths before Tony ran his hands over his face and continued.

“I never said the problem was you,” he rephrased, voice softer now as he glanced down at the floor. “I’m the problem, Peter.”

“You’re the-”

“No, stop. Just let me talk.” Tony’s voice was exhausted, defeated even. He knew this was coming, despite Rhodey telling him otherwise. Despite hoping his days of setting relationships on fire and then watching them burn were over.

“Okay,” Peter agreed in an equally quiet tone. He felt slightly bad for screaming at Tony like that, but given what he’d overheard it had felt justified at the time. Now, after seeing his boyfriend look so utterly broken like this? He wasn’t so sure.

“This,” Tony gestured between them. “This is what I do. I cause problems. My relationships start out great and then inevitably I fuck it up somehow. A suit comes to protect me from a nightmare. I forget an anniversary because I’m too busy tinkering in the lab.” He finally met Peter’s eyes. “I take my fears of losing you to my best friend instead of to you, like I should have.” Something in Peter’s eyes softened slightly at that last admission, and Tony swallowed before continuing.

“Four years with you isn’t enough, Peter. Our whole lives won’t be enough. Of course I want to marry you. But I can’t. I can’t marry you because then when I fuck up and lose you then we’re both going to be in for a world of hurt. It’ll be easier if we just stay like this.” Peter took in a breath like he wanted to say something but Tony kept talking. “I’m not saying dating is going to make it so I never screw this up, but it’ll at least let me enjoy this a little longer. Enjoy you a little longer.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then another.

After a few moments, Peter walked up to Tony and gently took his hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over calloused knuckles.

“You’re an idiot,” he whispered fondly, and Tony tried to jerk his hands out of Peter’s grip. His boyfriend was too fast, though, holding on steadily and continuing those soft touches.

“That’s not news,” Tony tried to joke, but his voice was weak.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Peter murmured.

“I just did! Almost. You were packing!”

“Because I thought my boyfriend didn’t want to marry me. I thought-” Peter broke off, taking in a shaky breath as tears came to his eyes. “I thought you wanted marriage, but not with me. Why would I stay and make us both go through a relationship where neither one of us is ever going to get what we really want?”

Tony could almost kiss his stupid, selfless boyfriend. Of course Peter fucking Parker would put his own heart into the line of fire to make sure Tony got what he really wanted.

“Now that I know that that’s not what you meant, I’m here to stay. Of course I’m here to stay. I love you, Tony.” Peter reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Tony’s cheek, squeezing his hands lightly.

“So you understand why I can’t?” Tony asked, and Peter rolled his eyes. The action was more fond now than it was angry.

“No, I don’t. But we’re going to work on it. As long as what we both want most is each other, then we can work it out. I’m not going to let your fears get in the way of us.” Peter smiled sweetly up at Tony, who felt slightly dizzy. Peter wasn’t leaving him. They were going to be okay.

“I’ll work on it,” he promised, voice barely more than a whisper.

“We will,” Peter amended. Tony simply nodded before leaning down, capturing Peter’s lips in a fierce kiss. He finally pulled his hands free of that soft grip and wrapped them around the smaller man, tugging him into his chest and holding him close.

As they slowly broke apart, Tony barely held back a whine and tried to chase after Peter’s lips. His boyfriend just laughed, placing a gentle finger on Tony’s lips.

“Wanna help me get my clothes off the bed?” He asked, and the older man groaned at the thought of cleaning up.

“Do we have to?” He asked.

“Well, we can’t exactly have fantastic make-up sex if the bed is covered in all my clean clothes,” Peter pointed out, smirking as he mouthed along Tony’s neck before pulling away.

Tony, ever the genius, simply ripped the comforter off the bed and tossed it aside, revealing sheets with no clean clothing in the way.

“Fixed,” he crowed, picking Peter up and placing him on the bed. The laughter that rang out in their bedroom as he climbed on top of his boyfriend was something Tony knew he would cherish.

They had things to work through, that was for sure. But it was like Peter said. As long as they both wanted each other, Tony had a feeling they would figure it all out.

[mminttae]

Clandestine | 02

-> Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x reader

-> Genre : tattoo!artist Jungkook, mafia! JJK,mafia au, bloody!missions, slight violence, got secrets they can't tell, angst, romance, Jungkook's part time job is flirting, sad (backstory), Y/N is strong!

-> Summary : who would have known that just doing a part time job at a night club would lead you to the tattoo artist Jeon Jungkook's messed up world. One letter related to the secret comes out of your mouth you'll be laying in Jungkook's arms but alive or not, that's not guaranteed...

-> Word Count : 4.286 K ( A/N: I’m increasing words )

-> T/W body language, killing, curse words and intimacy are included in the story (you may read if you're comfortable with these)

Part : 2

<< previous chap

.・゜-: ✧ :-playlist -: ✧ :-゜・．

Jungkook's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Even if me saying that line didn't flatten him enough I knew the nickname did as it always have been doing. It was clearly visible that he didn't expect me to be this bold suddenly. But he being himself smirked after a couple of seconds as his hand snaked up to grab my wrist pulling me more closer "Sure princess.. Do you want to go to the trip now? " His tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his piercing doe eyes holding so many thoughts looked at my lips then to my eyes.

"I don't want to interrupt but the trip has to be postponed "Jimin interferes in the moment, his eyes narrowed and only looking at me as if scared that the younger guy would throw him out if he locked eyes with his. Making a 'tch' sound Jungkook raises his eyebrows at Jimin in a manner that reads he's asking why postpone. I yeet his hand which was holding my wrist and get off from the table clearing my throat while fixing the skirt and apron. Jungkook clearly disappointed for not being able to hear my answer gets up from the seat while putting the black leather jacket around his shoulders. Jimin and Taehyung following him gets up too grabbing their bags. Jungkook walked up to me while fixing his bangs with his index finger.

"Gotta go princess a client's waiting" Nodding I proceeded to walk away but I could hear Jungkook saying with a sad dramatic tone. "Atleast act that you don't want me to go". I'm afraid I won't be able to because I myself don't know what this client of yours gonna do if you don't go on time. Is the person waiting even a client or not? Knitting my eyebrows I look back only to meet with strangers taking up the seat. The three tall mesmerizing men with inks on their body not to be seen anywhere. I don't know what's going on in that foolish yet extremely clever brain of yours but...

Be careful Mr. Artbook..

End of YOUR POV

Mid summer yet the night breeze is able to run shivers down your spine. Not a single soul in sight.

10 at night maybe the shopkeepers closed down the shutters and went to bed. Not many shops here in this area to even begin with. The only workshop's bell which rings here is the Jeon's Tattoo corner which has been ringing from the morning today , seemed to have stopped in the evening but now making its sound again. "Argh I should really break down this bell "

With an annoyed expression the black haired guy opens the drawers searching for a fresh towel. The tall man who just entered the shop walked past the desk table, turning the door knob and allowing himself inside the cozy room. His loud footsteps on the wooden floor telling Jungkook that the guest has arrived.

"Where were you? I waited here for five minutes then went inside the nearby plant store to kill time"

Taking off the long coat the tall silver haired guy walks up to the chair positioned in the middle of the room beside the various tools. "Sorry hyung, Taehyung and Jimin wanted a new tattoo so went to hear out their designs"

Jungkook says, eyebrows knitted while he fishes out the stencil of the beautiful clematis he has drawn beforehand of the leader's arrival. Smiling to himself he walks up to the seated boss whose like a big brother to him, he puts the stencil aside. Taking out a black rubber band from his pocket he takes his hair and ties it up to a small ponytail before taking out a drawer full of tattoo needles and inks. "Heard that Yoongi started boxing classes with you"

The older male speaks as his lip corners slowly moves upwards. Jungkook giving out a laugh says, "Yea Yoongi hyung be moving like a turtle. "

The thought of his hyung boxing and whining that it's hard is enough to make the little one giggle. Taking out a small wooden stool with one hand as the other one was holding the tattoo gun, Jungkook sits himself beside the strong looking man who rolls up his shirt's sleeves revealing all the different type of arts and words of different languages tattooed on his arm.

"Need chewing gum?"

The younger one asks at the thought that it might hurt but the older one replies plainly that he's fine after all his skin had been coming in contact with this gun for a long time now. Jungkook nods before resting the needle on the free space on the top of the man's biceps before starting to draw on it, the awestrucking clematis. "Was thinking of getting a lip piercing but not being able to get it cuz of the adults in the house"

The man says while his dimples makes visits to his cheeks.

"The exact same reason why am postponing on getting an eyebrow piercing"

Jungkook replies as he carefully moves the tattoo gun sideways on the man's bicep.

"So when are you planning on telling your sister?"

He asks as the silver haired guy closes his eyes once realizing what Jungkook meant.

"When the time's right.. "

He replies, slowly opening his eyes his gaze meeting the ceiling.

"But first we need to pinpoint Mr. Choi's location"

Replying with a small and quiet yes Jungkook draws the details on the flower carefully.

"Seokjin has been checking the cctvs regularly and the only thing he found was the black hyundai stopping at a night club at exactly 7pm every Tuesday and Wednesday"

"What's the night club's name? "

Jungkook asks as he draws on the small leaves.

"Hell's night club"

With just the mention of the night club's name Jungkook's hand stops moving as his eyes widened. "Isn't that the club you often visit with the others? "

The silver haired man asks making Jungkook quietly nod his head. If the most feared mafia in the country slash his team's biggest rival had been going to the exact same club at the exact same time as his how come he never saw the familiar old man's face? He thought.

What kind of person does the man disguise him as that even Jimin who encountered him multiple times doesn't notice. "You should be careful and try to see your clients faces carefully and see if they match that old fart's face or not"

Jungkook humming a response continued on giving the clematis it's final touch. Finishing the tattoo he removes the gun making the silver haired man sit up straight and fix his shirt.

"You know what to do right?"

Jungkook asks referring to putting on Vaseline ointment on the tattoo and stuffs. The older guy nods while fetching his coat. "I'll get going then. Thanks for the tattoo kook"

Jungkook simply nods his mind stuck in a different topic. Putting the equipments away and tidying up the towels as the older guy leaves the shop and disappears into the darkness of the night in the empty alleyway, Jungkook couldn't help but think about what you were up to. His mind stitching up different negative thoughts together.

"If Mr. Choi is really going to that club then he must have seen Y/N always talking to us..... What if he does something to her? " Jungkook asks to himself and the next thing he does is take his bag, turn off the lights, lock the doors and run off to meet you.

• -

"I'll be off then"

Bowing politely you take hold of the two big disposable bags and huff out a breathe when you realize how heavy both of them were. Kicking the back staff door with your leg open the first thing you see is Jeon Jungkook leaning on the wall infront. His hair tied up in a small ponytail, a bag hung around his shoulder and inked hands resting inside his jeans pockets. His eyes falls on your hands holding the disposable garbage bags, sighing he walks up to you.

"I thought your job was to serve and take orders not bring out garbages" You looked down at the bags in your hands while saying, "I was coming out anyways it's no biggie"

You flashed him a small smile but his eyes looked worried and his face tensed. You wondered what happened but didn't dare to ask thinking that he will only answer with 'none of your business' . Yes Jeon Jungkook unknowingly says harsh things without thinking when he's tensed. Jungkook takes the garbage bags from your hands and put it beside the door when his eyes lands on your right hand which was bandaged. His eyes widen and he quickly took your right hand examining it while asking

"How did this happen? Are you okay? "

Embarrassed you put your hand away from his warm ones and answer while smiling, not making eye contact

"It's okay I'm fine these kind of injuries are meant to happen if you work in a bar." Jungkook not convinced took your hand again now keeping it infront of him not letting you pull it back. His eyebrows knitted . "You were totally fine this evening tell me what happened". Chewing on your bottom lip you look down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

"Y/N tell me what happened.." Jungkook says once again this time his voice laced with concern as his hands caressed your hair. You were actually a bit taken aback at how the always dominant voice of Jungkook is making its way to you in a concerned and soft way.

"A drunk guy harshly pulled my hand wanting me to sit beside him but I fought back and he suddenly let go of me making me loose my balance at hit the edge of the glass table behind and that's how I got this"

You say while looking at your bandaged hand which was now resting in jungkook's warm palm. He softly held your injured hand and lower down a bit to meet your height. Looking at your eyes he said

"Tell me who did this. Tell me who did this to you I'm gonna fucking kill him"

In a calm soft voice but the last part obviously didn't come out in a soft way. You laughed and pushed him a bit away from you. "It's okay am fine don't overreact he was drunk" But Jungkook not buying the answer walked closer to you and again with a serious tone asked you . "Tell me how he looked like"

Knowing that he won't let go of the topic unless you give him a proper answer you sigh, rolling your eyes while describing the drunk man you happened to meet inside the club. "He had small eyes , a sharp nose and dark stubble on his face and.." You trailed off thinking what else did the man have but Jungkook interrupted asking in a quick manner

"Did he have any sort of tattoo on his wrist? " Replaying the moment inside your head you widen your eyes a bit and nod your head, "Yea he did.. Was that a crown? A crown maybe"

Exactly knowing who that drunk man you encountered was Jungkook's chest sank at the thought that the old man touched you with his dirty hands. Gulping down the saliva that formed in his mouth he without thinking pulled you to his chest engulfing you in a hug. He wasn't sure why he felt like protecting you but he wanted to . He wasn't supposed to feel this way now that he set his mind on the plan his brain made up on the way here but..he did. He wanted to make sure you were safe.

Widening your eyes at how Jungkook suddenly hugged you, your mind went blank. There's no doubt in how fast your heart was beating. To be honest to yourself you were actually frightened when that man tried touching you in an ill manner but now being in Jungkook's arms you felt safe. You felt safe when he was around. Jungkook's arms around you got tighter as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

So this is how you gonna play it Mr. Choi

He thinks.

•-

Flashback 5 weeks back

Stretching your arms you give out a small yawn before grabbing the books from the table and making your way out of the auditorium. Walking while looking at your  surroundings you didn't notice the tall man standing infront of you. Too immersed in the same old paintings hanging on the walls you hit something hard making the copies and books in your hands fall down. Without looking up at the person you bumped into you quickly said 'sorry' while kneeling down to pick up your supplies. The tall gentleman kneeled down too helping you with picking up your stationerys. You got up, the man following you soon. This time facing the guy properly as both of you made eye contact you were about to say thank you when your voice abruptly decided to not come out.

The man had soft long black hair .The kind of hair you would want to play with all day. His baby doe eyes staring at you, his lips parted. The oversized hoodie he was wearing made him the grizzly huggable bear image more.

As your eyes scanned him from head to toe, your lips a bit parted, the guy not being able to control his laughter at how cute you looked when your eyes went big as if you saw something really interesting and you'd like to study that thing more, he gave out small giggles making you quickly close your mouth and look at him. Noticing how every students in tha hall were staring at both of you, you shifted your weight from one leg to another leg uncomfortably. But the guy's Adorable bunny smile didn't go out of your notice. His eyes wrinkled as he tilted his face and asked you softly

"You okay? "

Blinking couple of times you nodded your head making him shyly scratch his nape and mumble 'thank god'. Your lips automatically curved up when your eyes landed on the ID card hung around his neck

"Jeon Jungkook"

Once realization hit you that you were now standing infront of your college's hearthrob while looking like a whole mess which you didn't care about that much until you bumped into him, your cheeks got tinted in a light blush. Pulling your lips in you tilted your head a bit to the side making your baby hairs fall over your face.

"Hey kook!"

A loud deep voice entered the ears of the people standing in the hall making them turn their heads to the two seniors waving their hands at Jungkook's direction, a big wide smile plastered know their face. Jungkook takes out his bracelet covered wrist from his pocket and waves at them. Jimin running towards us and wrapping his arm around the tall guy's shoulders he notices me and flashes me a smile

"Hey Y/N"

Waving your sweater paw at him as a hey you smiled. You met Jimin and Taehyung a couple of times before in some group works with seniors. You not really interested in gossips of the college noticed just a few days ago that Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are the well known hot trio of this college.

"Y/N.."

Jungkook repeats your name to himself before looking at you once again , smiling while saying

"Sweet name"

His sweet honey voice saying your name was enough to melt you. If it was any other guy right now you would have simply said thank you for helping you pick up the books and walk away without saying anything but surprisingly Jeon Jungkook made you stop. "I'm hungry didn't have breakfast this morning" Taehyung whines while holding his tummy earning a slap on his head from Jimin. "we are going for lunch wanna join us? "

Jungkook asks you making you widen your eyes at the sudden invitation and Jungkook earning some smirks from the seniors beside him, Jimin elbowing his arm while wiggling his eyebrows. Jungkook simply rolled his eyes at his hyungs before looking at you for a reply. You glancing at your silver wrist watch said "I would love to but I should get going. I have some stuffs to do"

Jungkook quietly nods his head before flashing you a smile.

Is he always smiling?

You thought noticing that he had been smiling since the moment both of you met. "Y/N's always studying hard"

Taehyung says earning a nod from Jimin making you shyly scratch your nape.

The Brunnete haired approached you giving you a pat on your shoulder before saying "Study well but don't forget to have lunch okay? "

You flashed him a smile while nodding. Jungkook waving his hands at you as a 'bye' walked past you with the two boys. You looked back at three of them noticing that two of them were wearing hoodies and one of them were wearing full sleeved tees.

It's so hot these days why are they wearing hoodies on top of tees?

Shaking your head you quickened your pace and quickly got out of the college grounds. Walking to the bus stand while looking around at the cozy coffee shops on the streets you keep glancing at your watch from time to time to make sure that you're going on time or not.

Now here's a secret about you that no one knows

You're a student at an art college but you are also a student at a law school. Your father runs the family business of electronics. Yes the electronics company ranking the second best in the country out of all the other electronic companies, which he wants to hand over to your big brother after he retires. Your mother always wanted a child of her to be a sculptor. Borning late in the family with the talent of art you were forced to study this subject whereas you were interested in prosecution, catching criminals and stuffs. What you were most interested in were being a mafia or an assassin but you gave up on those dreams and decided to study law. Your parents only giving their all attention and care to their first born, didn't care about you that much. The only thing they wanted from you was becoming a great sculptor and bringing praise to your family.

After nights of confusion and judgement you decided to study in the law school that you got admitted, secretly with the money your grandparents left you. Your grandparents left some money for you and your brother before passing away and thankfully they were enough to pay for your study books expenses. But maintaining time for your law school as well as the art school was hard but you managed to make time after dropping off from some extra courses of the art college without telling your parents. But it was hectic. Your college hours starts from 7 am. And you have classes till 9am then a break at 9:15 am to 10:30 due to dropping off from some extra class. Your law classes starts from 9:30 so during the break you quickly leave the grounds and head off to the law classes. Then you return to the art college at 10:20 when it's a break at your law school. Then once again when it's a lunch break at the art school you head off to the law school while munching on some snacks, obviously not getting time to have proper lunch. And when it comes to events you had to make up excuses at the law school for not attending as your parents would obviously not skip their daughter's presentations.

It would be more hectic from today cuz you just applied to a job at a night club. There's a course for learning shooting at the law school but you don't have enough money to pay for that so it's time to earn some money.

•••

Stretching your arms while getting up from the seat you had been sitting on straight for 2 hours, you give a yawn before taking out a scrunchie and putting your hair up. All the classes for the day are done. Putting the back pack around your shoulder you bow at the teacher before leaving the school premises. Walking inside the bus and sitting on one of the seat you take out your phone and start typing to your mother , 'Mom I'll be late tonight as I got some extra lessons. Don't worry for me and you don't have to send car I'll come by bus'

"No one's gonna worry about me though"

You say to yourself while letting out a small laugh and looking out at the window. Everything vanishing from your sight at a fast pace as the vehicle picks up its speed upon seeing the empty road. Some of the street lights flickering due to not being fixed for several days now. You take out the 'guideline' paper of the bar you're gonna work in from backpack, going through the structure of the building in your mind and remembering all the rules explained to you yesterday when you went to apply for the job. This night club only seemed to be safe for you to work in now. By safe means you would have no worries of the common students who spends time in bars and clubs to see you. If anyone recognizes you then it's game over. Plus the pay is high too.

The phone screen lighting up as a notification popped up you unlocked the phone before seeing from whom the text is from.

Bro: heard you're coming late at night should I pick you up from the way while coming home?

"Geez already told him?"

You say to yourself once realizing that your mom told your brother to pick up but your brother being nice asked if you want to be picked up first or not. Smiling at his text before typing your reply It's ok you don't have to come. The office is far away from my college anyways. Get home safely.

Waiting for a few minutes to see his reply which you didn't get you turned off your phone and put it inside your bag. Looking out from the window thinking why he didn't reply when he saw your text whereas usually he would try to come pick you up, being the 'protective' brother. You got down from the bus as soon as the bus came to its stop. You walked for a few more minutes from the bus stop till arriving at your destination.

Hell's night club

•••

It's been only five minutes of you serving drinks but you're already tired. How can a human body and mind work for 13 hours straight without any rest. You did mess up some tables a couple of times for which you were now getting a scolding from the manager. You looking down bowing slightly while your hands in front of you.

"Miss Lee Y/N did you properly see the table numbers today? "

The old man asks to which you nod. "Then why are you messing up? " He asks in a raised voice making you flinch and quickly mumble a sorry. You lift your head up a bit to see the old man sighing while pinching his forehead, clearly visible that he's angry. "I'm letting you go as this is your first time don't make mistakes anymore"

He says making you bow and say

"Thank you"

He looked around trying to see if any waitresses are free. Sighing at how there's no one free without counting you he gave you a look before handing you a tray of various kinds of drinks. "Take this to table no. 14. And  do not  make any mistakes. They are regulars here I don't want them gone" Nodding at him you set off to find this table no. 14 . Noticing how your skirt got up a bit you tried pulling the skirt a bit down with one hand as the other one was holding the tray, you quickly withdraw your hand without fixing the skirt upon seeing the tray tremble in one hand. Quickly holding the tray in place and scanning if any drinks were spilled, you sigh in relief. You looked back to only lock eyes with the manager . He staring straight at you with his cold eyes. You gave a small awkward smile and walked towards table 14.

The table no. 14 seemed to be surrounded by many big men. All had some sort of tattoos on them. A familiar man sitting in the middle holding a pen and scribbling something on a notebook. His inked arms full on display as the silver earrings were still being able to shine despite the dullness in the scene. His long bangs falling before his eyes not letting anyone see the face beneath it.

You quietly approached the table and when you raised your eyes from the ground to the man sitting in the middle, your legs automatic came to a halt and your breath hitched.

Jeon Jungkook right there was sitting. The table in front occupied with various weapons and him sitting like a whole five course meal, fingers playing with the dangly earrings

This is totally not what I expected