#get closure all while insisting i never even needed him because he didn’t reach the friend groups standard of masculinity and toughness

[a-dotrivenitupontop]

scott tibbs was such a character. mf really said whagever. i don’t even care about that twink adam 🙄 then drove himself insane making a documentary about his disappearance

[mrsparkjimin18]

Starting Over: Revamped

✎ pairing: non-idol! Jimin x OC

✎ au/genre: non-idol au, angst, smut, e2l

✎ rating: MA

✎ wc: 3751

✎ warnings: lack of communication leads to misunderstandings, accidental stimulation, graphic language and explicit sexual content, make-up sex ✎an: a big thanks to @downbad4yoongi and @moonleeai for their great feedback and editing at the last minute! This retake of one of my first network stories never would've been possible without you too!!!

Summary: When an ex reaches out for closure, Serenity is unsure of how things will play out, and even more unsure of how she wants them to be. Will he finally get the closure he needs?

“Why did I agree to this?” Serenity asks herself over and over again, even now after she boards the plane. On the one hand, she spent four years of her life with him, on the other hand, it was a horrible breakup, and many issues were left unresolved.

It’s been almost a year since she’s seen him, even longer since they’ve actually talked, but last month he reached out to her. She blocked him on all social media, changed her number, and even moved back to the states to create as much distance as possible from him. Nevertheless, her sister ran into him while on vacation and said he begged for her number– of course she gave it to him, insisting it was the right thing to do since he’d told her a conversation was all he desired.

Here she is, a month later, on a flight he paid for. She thought he’d make a million excuses before she agreed to see him, but surprisingly he only had one, “I need to see you, I need closure, you need closure, and we won’t get that over the phone.” She was reluctant, but she agreed only on the condition that he pay for her flight – he caught her off guard by also paying for her Airbnb.

After retrieving her luggage and securing a taxi, Serenity’s mind was wandering with ideas of what he possibly has to say that’s too important to be said over the phone.

He should’ve said what he needed to before he stormed out of their apartment that day. He left her with rent and bills she couldn’t afford to pay, and at the time, she refused to admit her fault in their breakup.

She now realizes it was wrong to only blame him because she hadn’t made an effort to communicate then either. Nevertheless, the fact that he wants to actually talk in person and get closure – lack of communication being the main issue throughout their entire relationship – may help mend the open wounds they were both left with so abruptly. Serenity’s in dire need of a vacation anyway, so she plans to revel in this rare opportunity.

She unpacks and settles in at the Airbnb, the home isn’t your typical South Korean Hanok, but she’s falling in love with the intricate details. Serenity can see the owners took pride in keeping some of the small intricate details of the home while renovating it, utilizing the size of the large yard to add a pool and hot tub. The stylish modern kitchen was an added touch that she didn’t expect - definitely something she plans to have in her future home. They even kept the old doors and entry gate, refurbishing them to their original state and still using a key to enter rather than a keypad entry system.

She texts Jimin letting him know that she’s arrived and is settled in, he responds to let her know he’s in a meeting and when he finishes up there, he’ll be on his way.

“On his way? Wasn’t aware I’d have to see him the first day I arrive,” she grumbles, staring at her phone. She sends a thumbs-up emoji back, but she actually wants to send an angry face.

She showers and chooses the perfect outfit to show him exactly what he’s been missing – a tight chiffon button-up with the top three buttons undone, black lace longline balconette bra, and black skinny jeans paired with her favorite black stiletto heels that make her stand almost as tall as him. She hopes they'll go somewhere public–contemplates suggesting it– she wants him to know, to see, that he left the best woman any man would beg to be with.

Her phone dings with a text from Jimin informing her of his ETA, and panic sets in – is she really ready to see him? Frantically, she searches the kitchen, finding a fully stocked wine fridge, and grabs the best bottle she can find. She returns to the living room with two glasses, staging the coffee table for his arrival.

She waits patiently for his arrival, scrolling through social media, double-tapping pictures of her friends partying back home. Quickly growing bored with her phone, she begins looking around the house, her first stop the kitchen, rummaging through drawers and cabinets, and finding the refrigerator unusually full of fresh groceries.

She turns around and is surprised to see Jimin walk in without knocking, dropping a set of keys on the entryway table, and he flashes that unforgettable smile at her.

She makes her way around the kitchen island, her hair exactly the way he loves it - half up in a bun, the rest hanging down her back - her makeup is flawless, and she smiles a welcoming smile back as he approaches her.

“Serenity, it’s been so long, but you still look...stunning,” Jimin pauses, looking her up and down, taking in every inch of her. “I’m glad you decided to come.” He wraps his arms around her and hugs her firmly. She returns his hug, inhaling his familiar scent, and feels like she could melt in his arms.

“Jimin, you still look great as well, I see life’s been treating you well. Care for a glass of wine?” She asks, peeling herself away from the hug before she’s lost in him again, and walks over to pour the glasses of wine. He nods in acceptance.

He swirls the glass of red wine around before bringing the rim to his lips, tipping the glass back, he finishes it in nearly a single swallow.

“Ahhh…Okay, I need to shower and change into something a little less stiff…” Again, Jimin looks her up and down. “I need to match your vibe, and I’ve been in this suit all day.” She wasn’t expecting him to leave so abruptly, just as she didn’t expect him to show up unexpectedly.

“How long do you think you’ll be? How far is your house from here? I’m only asking because I don’t want to get too drunk before you come back,” she laughs nervously.

He shoots her that devious smile she came to miss over time, “I am home, this…” Jimin makes a sweeping motion with his hands, “...is my home, I assumed you would’ve figured that out when you arrived. Did you not go into the bedroom on this floor?”

A small ping of irritation and anger ran up her spine. Rather than just allow her to reserve her own hotel or Airbnb, he was insistent on getting it for her – only to have her stay at his private home?

“No, I didn’t realize there was a room down here. I went directly upstairs and picked the largest room that I could only assume was the Master suite… Why didn’t you just tell me I would be staying in your home?”

“Honestly, because I knew you wouldn’t come here if I’d told you this was my house. I said I have a house you can stay at, I never said I was renting one.” Putting his hands up, placating, “I should’ve been forthcoming from the beginning, though. I can still book you a room or rent you a place if you’d prefer.”

Serenity can’t help but notice how sad he looks, not that she should care, but she doesn’t mind the house or the location. Rather than pack her belongings and let the petty urge tell him to find her another place, she gives in.

“No, it’s fine, Jimin. I’m already unpacked and settled in, it would be ridiculous for me to leave now, it’s not like I’m here for months.” She gives him a warning glare before continuing, “However, we’ll stay in separate rooms, and don’t try to sneak into my room in the middle of the night…unless I invite you.”

Her hand slaps over her mouth and embarrassment begins to settle in. She winks at him, a feeble attempt to play it off, and downs the rest of her wine. She can’t lie, watching his eyes go from soft and sincere to dark and fiery, brings a sense of satisfaction.

“Okay, I can respect that.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth turning up devilishly. “I’ll clean up and get dressed so we talk while finishing that bottle of wine, maybe even go into the city a little later?” She smiles and nods in silent agreement pouring another glass of wine, his smile broadens, and he quickly disappears down the hallway.

A bottle of wine and a little over an hour later, laughter fills the once-quiet house.

“Jimin! You still have the same sense of humor I see. I'm glad you find it funny that I ended up with such an eccentric roommate, but once I got to know her, she turned out to be pretty cool and easy to talk to!” Serenity pauses to fill her glass again, “Soooo, what’s new with you? Any lucky lady in your life now? You can tell me, my jealous tendencies are long gone now, I finally realized what I can bring to the table, so if a man can’t accept my greatness, then he can have whatever peasant he decides. However, he will never be able to forget this Queen, so, his loss.”

She drunkenly brought her glass to her lips and in her tipsy state, forgot she just gave herself a refill. The wine rushes out of the glass onto her face and inevitably onto her white shirt, a bright red blotch spreads quickly across her chest.

“Shit! This is a new shirt!”

Jimin quickly runs into the kitchen, grabbing a towel and club soda, rushing back over to help remove the stain. He was no more sober than her, so without thinking, he begins frantically pouring the club soda directly onto the stain, blotting and rubbing her chest with the towel.

The shirt hugs her breasts exactly where the stain is. He makes an effort to be gentle, but when he begins wiping at the stain, she lets out a tiny gasp. Jimin’s eyes meet hers, and she can only grimace and say, “It’s cold.”

The club soda seeps through, stimulating her nipples into tight buds. Wearing an unlined, lace bra was by far the sexiest option, but she didn’t expect this to happen. Jimin continues to rub in tiny circles trying to get the wine out.

When he pulls the towel away to see if he’s making a difference, he notices her erect nipples poking through her shirt and freezes. She looks down, her face flushes a light shade of red from slight embarrassment, but the look on his face tells a different story.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants, beginning to harden at the sight that is literally staring him in the face. He avoids the urge, placing the wet towel at the front of his pants, attempting to conceal his forming erection. She pretends not to notice, diverting her attention to her shirt.

“You know what? I can always buy another one…” She desperately wants to widen the space between herself and Jimin, “I’ll go change and then you can show me around the city, sound like a plan?”

Jimin nods in agreement, “I’ll put it in the wash right away, maybe there’s still hope to remove the rest of the wine.”

Serenity smiles coyly before heading upstairs to change. She quickly strips down to just her bra that reeks of wine and her matching panties, standing at the closet, rummaging through her clothes, trying to decide what to wear.

“For fucks sake, I brought enough clothes to last six months here!” Rather than frustrate herself more, she changes into a new bra and panties – open lace-back panties with matching lace balconette.

“Still look good in cheeky panties I see.” Jimin’s voice startles her, and she grabs the nearest article of clothing to cover herself. “I’ve seen you naked before, up close and personal at that.”

“Yeah…well…that’s when we were together, and we’re not now, so can I get a little bit of privacy?” Her cheeks burn with timidity.

“I actually came up here to get the shirt, you don’t want the stain to set, do you?” Grabbing the shirt from the floor where she tossed it, Jimin exits the room, closing the door behind him.

Finally picking something to wear, she pulls on her knee-high stilettos that match the outfit perfectly and makes her way downstairs.

“Jimin, where are you? I need you to zip up my–” All train of thought is lost when she sees him. The Edison bulbs above the kitchen island make his sun-kissed skin glow, his hair perfectly swept back, black Dior ensemble from head to toe, looking positively fabulous.

With a few strides, he’s in front of her, gently grabbing her arm and turning her around to zip up her dress.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

“Shall we?” Jimin gestures toward the front door.

After walking around the city streets, enjoying food from the street vendors, they end up in a small second-floor pub. The dim light over the corner booth offers seclusion and privacy from the other patrons, enabling them with the opportunity to finally talk.

“Jimin, I know things ended horribly,” she begins, “but I’ve never needed closure after a relationship. What I’m saying is…well, what I mean…I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say, but I’m not sure what it is you need from me.”

He lifts his drink, swirling the alcohol around the ice cubes before swigging the entire glass.

“Well…Serenity…I don’t really know how to say this.” Sweat beads on his forehead, but he fights back the anxious feeling. “I never wanted you to come here for closure.”

Serenity nearly chokes on an ice cube, “What?! Then why did you ask me to…Jimin, what’s going on?” She tries to laugh it off, but she’s starting to realize why he had her come here – he wants to be with her.

“I haven’t dated anyone else since we broke up, I’ve spent so many sleepless nights in bed trying to figure out how to contact you, apologize to you…make it up to you.” Tears begin to well up, “I knew I was wrong, but I know I can do better now.”

Jimin reaches across the table, placing his hand over Serenity’s, his eyes pleading for a response.

Pulling her hand away, Serenity stares at him in shock, “So you assumed that you could invite me here, wine and dine me, and I’d just fall back into your arms?” She rolls her eyes, her tone dripping with irritation.

Jimin’s head drops, he’s unsure what he could possibly say to help her understand.

“Nothing to say?” She scoffs, finishing her drink and slamming the glass down on the table. “I’m not even surprised.” She scoots to the edge of the booth bench and stands to leave.

Jimin desperately grabs her arm, “Please…don’t go.”

The resounding sound of sorrow in his voice doesn’t stop her from yanking away from him and leaving without another word. Jimin is left alone in the booth, frozen in time, unable to go after the one thing he wants most on this earth – Serenity, both literally and figuratively.

Serenity sits at the edge of the bed, she’s already packed her belongings, yet finds herself unable to leave.

“I have so much more I want to say to him…” She utters into the phone. “...I know, but you don’t understand…I guess I shouldn’t have come, I thought I’d be able to handle this, but I can’t…What do you mean? I am angry...Whatever, I have to go, I don’t have time to be lectured by my sister about why I shouldn’t have come in the first place! I need to find a hotel or sleep at the fucking airport until my flight leaves…I know, I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated right now…Love you too, bye.”

The call ends, and she doesn’t feel any better now than she did before. She wants to fight with Jimin, she wants to express all of the emotions she’s felt for the last year. Nevertheless, she can’t, she won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the struggles she’s been through trying to forget him, forget their love, forget everything.

“Fuck it.” She gathers her luggage and turns to leave the room, only to see Jimin standing in the doorway.

“Speak your mind. Tell me you hate me, that you never want to see me again, and I’ll have no choice other than to accept how you feel…” He pauses, taking a few steps toward her, “But if you can’t do that, then I won’t give up.”

He closes the distance between them, she can feel the heat radiating from his body, but she can’t move away – she won’t.

“Jimin…” She looks up at him, her eyes brimming with pain, “I–”

Before she’s able to continue, his soft lips meet hers, and she feels like she’s melting. Her lips part, allowing his tongue entry, and he delicately kisses her. She doesn’t object, she can’t, she’s been waiting for this moment. He places his hands on the small of her back, pulling her against his body, his arousal straining against his pants.

Serenity breaks away from the kiss, “Jimin, I…” His head drops in defeat, “...still love you. I hate that we ended the way we did, I hate that neither of us attempted to make an effort to fix anything, I hate that we just let each other…go.” A river of tears begins to flow down her face, she feels the pain slowly begin to release.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Jimin says, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears. “We’re together now, we realize where we went wrong, and now we can work on us together. I told you, and I’ll tell you again, I never stopped loving you.”

Jimin kisses her softly on her forehead, lifting her face so their eyes meet. His lips press against hers and he slowly begins unzipping her dress, his fingers run along her spine, the touch of his skin against hers sends chills through her. The satin dress slips from her shoulders and onto the floor around her feet.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, holding it tight between his teeth, her erect nipples enticing him through the thin lace, luring him to nibble at them through her bra. His dark, hooded eyes burn with a fiery desire, initiating her feral desire to grab him, kiss him until his breaths become hers.

She pulls him closer, her lips press hard against his, sliding her tongue between his lips, the intensity of her desperation is felt. Her longing to feel his skin against hers, she pulls his shirt apart, buttons scattering in soft clicks against the hardwood floor, his sun-kissed chest now exposed for her to plant wet kisses upon.

Slowly leading her toward the bed, an arm wrapped around her, he lowers her down. Her wet pussy glimmers beneath her black lace panties, making his member twitch against the restraining fabric of his Dior jeans, precum staining the inside of his pants.

She slides her panties over, playing with her clit while Jimin watches, unbuttoning his pants without taking his eyes away from her glistening slit.

“Jimin, I want to…no…I-I need to feel you inside of me,” she begs frantically, edging herself.

His pants drop to his ankles, and he bends his knees, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubs his thick tip along her slit, wetting it just enough before penetrating into her tight, slick walls.

“Fuck, you still feel so tight, so perfect, you’re always so wet for me.” His praise stimulates her arousal.

She grabs his ass, pulling him until he’s deep within her, holding him there. His cock begins to contract, oozing warm pre-cum into the back of her pussy. He loves when she takes control, making him lose all inhibitions, nearly reaching his peak.

She releases him and he slowly pulls out of her, giving his best shot to wane the desire to pound her hole, letting her tight walls tightly grip and tease his cock as he eases in and out of her. 

He moans each time he inches deeper, holding out as long as he can, stroking slowly until his raging urges prompt him to thrust faster.

“S-Serenity, I’m going to cu-.” He moans wildly, his pace becomes frantic, reckless even, as her walls squeeze his member.

 “Fuck, Jimin, fuck me!” She screams, her body trembling as she coats his cock with her essence.

Jimin pulls out again, this time a smug smirk forms across his mouth, “I’m not done,” he demands. Rolling her over, he lifts her ass up and kneels behind her, staring at her round ass, and slaps his cock against her swollen cunt.

Gripping her cheeks, he spreads them wide and slips easily into her readied hole. He wastes no time, pounding into her relentlessly, promptly initiating another orgasm.

“Jimin, please, I can’t take anymore, please cum for me.” Her begging hastens his lust. His thrusts become wild, uncontrollable until he finally paints her walls with his cum.

She drops to her stomach, Jimin lowers himself onto her, he’s heavy, but she’s missed the skinship. They lay there spent and breathless, basking in this moment of delight and satisfaction.

After a while, Jimin moves from on top of her to her side, keeping one leg draped over her soft ass.

“Serenity, where do we go from here?” Jimin inquires, the sadness in his voice makes her heart ache.

“One day at a time, Jimin, because I know I’ll never find a love like we share. We just have to work on communication, telling one another how we feel, not running when it feels like the easiest decision when things get rough. I’m not saying it will be easy, but nothing worth fighting for is." She turns, looking into his eyes, her smile is warm and inviting, her eyes full of hope that they can make it work this time.

“So, are you going to move in?” Optimism and hope permeated from his tone.

"It'll take time, we have a lot to work on, and if we’re able to make it through this...then we'll go from there."

Tears of joy soak the sheets on the bed, they embrace one another, and in this moment, they silently vow to persist on this rough road together.

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

"y-you...you killed him? for me?" you ask jungkook whose face is flushed red with tears and is holding your body tight for dear life. you don't hear everything else he says because you're disturbed by the information he shared with you. although his father was a huge pain in your ass, you would never wish death upon him, especially his son taking his life. you don't even know whether to believe jungkook or not because what yerin told you was that jeon jaekuk was assassinated not killed by the hands of your ex-boyfriend.

he then reveals that it was your mother that begged him to stay away from you and it hurts to hear your mother go behind your back but you understand why she did it. she's trying to protect you yet here she is with you wishing jungkook a happy birthday, even baking a cake for him. when jungkook doesn't hear your response, he pulls away to look you in your eyes, taking in your whole face. he can tell that you're shocked by the sudden information that he revealed to you and you're trying not to get upset with jungkook because it's a special day for him. his mother reached out to get you to make him happy but you know the only way he'll be happy is if you stay.

stay with the murderer and something tells you that he used that gun you remember he had that one night to kill him.

"jungkook i...i don't know what to say" and truly, you don't. what CAN you say?

"let's just celebrate your birthday, okay? we can talk about this later" and before jungkook can respond, you let his and your mother back inside the penthouse to spend time with him for his birthday. the night is somewhat fun because jungkook can tell a lot is going through your mind and you can tell a lot is running through his.

you all sing happy birthday to jungkook one last time before he begins to cut the cake and share pieces of your mother's sweet dessert with everyone but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. neither you nor your mother planned to stay long, so by tomorrow morning the two of you would board the earliest flight back to switzerland, and when your mother reveals that to ji-ae, jungkook isn't too happy with the news.

he wants, no, NEEDS you to stay with him. he can't go on living without you, and with his father gone, maybe you'll stay.

so, he offers to walk both you and your mother downstairs but ji-ae insists the two of you take a walk to "catch up" with each other while they stay back. good, because jungkook has some things to say and so do you.

once the two of you are outside after getting off the elevator and leaving the lobby, you don't hold back with jungkook and he's bracing himself for whatever you have to say to him.

"listen, i...i leave tomorrow morning so i'm going to make this quick and maybe this will give you closure. you know i love you, i always have but i can't be with you anymore. i'm trying to move on with my life and i kind of have moved on. every time we get back together bad things just keep happening. if we're not at each other's throats then we're caught up in unnecessary drama with your lifestyle that hurts me. i'm not saying it's your fault, jungkook because i shouldn't have agreed to come knowing i was better off in switz but it's time for us to move on. it's time for me to move on, so if you have anything to say, say it now or forever hold your peace"

He scoffs as you say those things to him, he’s getting angry as you keep on talking, he clenches his fist but bites his tongue so he doesn’t say anything that’ll hurt your feelings.

But what about his feelings that you’re hurting?

If you didn’t love him and you had moved on why did you come here? You could’ve just rejected his mother’s request and Maybe he would’ve moved on.

“Yn…” he says closing his eyes so he can take a breath, he really cannot let his anger take the best of him. But you just make it so hard.

“Why did you come here? Huh? You know what you should’ve done you should’ve just rejected my mother’s request..” he barks back. “and I don’t care if you’ve moved on.” He rolls his eyes as he crosses his hands across his chest.

He’s so angry right now. You’ve managed to piss him off. And now he’s going to hurt your feelings.

“you make everything difficult. I don’t even know why I love you so much. I wish you hadn’t come here. Go back. I have managed to go on six years without you I can live without you yn.” He is seething. How can you even advise him to move on? And now you’re lying about the fact that you love him.

“Yknow what? You never loved me the way I loved you. You’re right whenever we’re together or something really bad happens. and I’m glad that your life is going well.. see mine is going well too. I’ll move on.” He says, he doesn’t even want to look at you anymore.

You are so selfish.

you have hurt him.

Jungkook is so disappointed and frustrated.

“thank you for doing this for my mother.. it was actually nice to see you now I will be able to move on…. Because now I know that you don’t love me so now I can allow myself to fall in love with someone else and forget about you like you never existed. Go yn.”

And with that he turns his back on you, because he cannot let you see the tears that start to fall from his eyes as soon as he turns away.

Maybe you guys are not meant to be after all.

And nothing he can do will make you stay.

[babyboibucky]

Undeserving (Deserve Better Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You confront Bucky about his decision to abandon you.

Word Count: 2,868

Warnings: More angst lmao I’m sorry for this

A/N: Honestly struggled with this because 1) I couldn’t decide on how to end it and 2) I was pressured from the feedback I got from Deserve Better. I’m not entirely happy with how this came out and initially, I planned on doing an epilogue for those who’d prefer a different ending but decided against it. Anyway, if you guys have more questions about this, send me an ask! I’d love to discuss more about this lol luv u all as always. Feedbacks are highly appreciated and I hope this was good enough for y’all who enjoyed Deserve Better xoxo

Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

You chose to stay.

Despite seeing the love of your life— whom you had waited for years— in the arms of another, you stayed at the gala. It was after all, to honor Steve’s legacy and you respected him enough not to walk away and miss out on the speeches given by people dearest to him, Bucky included of course.

You weren’t sure if he had seen you and the way your eyes brimmed with tears when everything finally made sense to you. He wasn’t far from you when you stopped in your tracks, mouth parting as a soft whimper escaped past your lips.

You had never imagined that heartbreak could be so physically painful. And it wasn’t the regular pain you’d feel after an intense workout or when you scraped your knee. The hurt was different, like your heart was being tightly squeezed into someone else’s palm. It was choking you, constricting you of oxygen as if you were drowning. No matter how much you tried to reach the surface, the pain just kept on pulling you down until there was nothing but darkness and well, pain.

Once the program was over and all the guests were left to mingle, you carefully slipped out of the crowd. Mindlessly, you walked and walked and walked until your feet began to hurt from the heels you were wearing. When the cold and crisp air of the evening embraced you, it was then that you realized that you reached the compound’s garden, just behind the main hall where the gala was happening.

The quiet gave you time to think and process everything that had happened. Bucky left to find himself and to become better, that he did. And you waited only to discover that he’d been back for quite a while now but chose to be with another.

As you looked out in front of you, your vision turned blurry as a new wave of tears escaped your eyes. Your grief had resurfaced after repressing it for so, so long. Grief from Bucky’s goodbye, from his absence and from waiting, grief from seeing him with someone else; no matter the cause, all in all it was grief nonetheless.

Bucky’s soft voice calling your name echoed in the evening air, it was so soft that you almost thought that you were hallucinating. But then he’d called you again, using the pet name that used to make your stomach flip and your heart to flutter. It still had the same effect now, you realized, only that it came along with an immense amount of pain that made your blood boil.

Hearing Bucky call you that, it almost felt like poison. It was quiet, gentle even but it left a bitter taste in your mouth as you felt its venom run through your veins until you could no longer feel anything but pain.

“Doll—“

“Don’t.” you seethed and turned around, pointing a shaky finger right at Bucky. “Don’t call me that when you’re with someone else, James.”

Bucky flinched at the way you had addressed him. You saw how his face faltered upon seeing you like this. His vibranium arm was restless against his side, as if he wanted to reach out to you but knew better than to do so.

“I waited for you!” you spat.

If he found somebody else to become better for, he could at least let you know. But he didn’t and you needed to know why he chose to abandon you. You needed it so badly, for your own peace of mind. For closure. You deserved that, at least.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No, you don’t get to say your side until I’m done with mine!” you insisted. “I have every right to be selfish right now. I can choose to lash out on you or refuse to even listen to whatever your reason is for abandoning me no matter how valid it is. I fucking deserve that, Bucky.”

Bucky closed his mouth and nodded; you hated how he was staring at you as if he just lost his moonlight, as if he still loved you. If he did, you wouldn’t be confronting him like this and you wouldn’t have seen him with someone else.

“When Steve told me that you disappeared, when it felt like there was no way to bring everyone back, I waited. It didn’t feel right for me to move on from you just like that and deep inside I knew that you were going to return. Five years, Buck. I waited five years for nothing.” you said quietly, recalling how devastating those five years were.

You didn’t know what would happen then, nobody knew. Would they still come back? The chances were slim and yet you trusted your gut and decided to remain hopeful. It wasn’t easy to wait for something or someone that may never come back. But you still did and it never even crossed your mind that you may just be wasting your time.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “And then you came back and I felt alive again. But then you said goodbye.” you pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back your tears but to no avail.

It took you a while to collect yourself and Bucky let you, until you spoke again and told him how much it destroyed you when he walked away from you.

“Everyone else told me that I shouldn’t wait. Not again after those five years. But it felt easier this time around because you told me you wanted to get better. For me. And I was excited, Bucky.” you told him with a chuckle. “I was excited to see your return. I looked forward to how we’d spend our time together when you come back, if you’d cut your hair. If you’d wear the same cologne that I loved.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you recalled those times you daydreamed about Bucky’s return. The wait was agonizing but it gave you something to look forward to. At least you weren’t waiting for nothing anymore. Bucky was leaving but only temporarily, you were sure he’d come back. But the smile vanished as soon as it appeared and before you knew it, you were sobbing again.

“And now you’re back and so much better. But you aren’t mine anymore.”

At this point, your grief had consumed you both physically and mentally. You knees wobbled but you didn’t hit the ground, no. Instead, there was warmth against your skin followed by the smell of a certain cologne, enveloping the air around you. Bucky caught you in his arms and he held you tight as you cried into him.

“Shh, doll. I’m here now.” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your crown.

As much as it felt right to be in Bucky’s embrace, it wasn’t enough to overcome the betrayal he did. You groaned in frustration and pushed him away, stepping back and hugging yourself instead.

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“I need to know why and how we came to this.” you asked, almost begged for Bucky to give you the closure you badly needed.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he paced before you, his cheeks stained with his own tears. “I came back for you.” he said.

You frowned, “When?”

“I couldn’t wait to see you again and as soon as I got back, I went straight to your office. But then you weren’t working there anymore, I found out that you finally landed your dream job at the law firm.” he said with a small smile. “I was so proud when I heard that. I was supposed to go to your apartment but something came up and I needed to meet with Sam first. Weekend came and I was on my way to your place when I saw you. And you were with someone else and you looked....happier, the happiest I’d seen you.”

Something clicked and you quickly shook your head, “Andy. No, he’s not...we were never together. This is a misunderstanding, Bucky. He and I were never—“

“I know.” Bucky admitted.

“What?” You asked, voice soft from utter confusion.

“You looked happy with him, not because of him. I know you weren’t in love with him because if you were, you would have looked at him the same way you’re looking at me now.” He explained sadly.

Hearing Bucky’s explanation made you angrier. If he knew that, then why did he still leave? What reason could be bigger than that to make Bucky wake up one day and decide that he no longer wants to come back to you?

If he knew you loved him so much to actually wait, why did he leave you like that?

Your brows creased, “If that’s not the reason, then what?”

Bucky shrugged, “I realized that you didn’t deserve me. I left to better myself for you, god I really did. But when I saw you and how you managed to be successful without me by your side, I figured that you were better off without me. I thought I got better, but seeing you again looking so beautiful, happy and just...maybe I’ll never be the right one for you.”

You bitterly chuckled at Bucky’s revelation, “This doesn’t make any sense to me, Bucky. You chose to abandon me because you thought I was happier without you?”

You felt offended that Bucky even thought of that. Did he not trust you when you told him you’d wait for him? He didn’t even show up to tell you that, to give you the chance to reassure him how much you love him. He just decided that it was better for him to leave you hanging?

“That’s bullshit, Bucky.” you spat. “You left me hanging because you thought you were weighing me down and the next time I see you, you’re with Sharon now. Who by the way, used to date your best friend. I don’t understand any of this.” you told him.

Bucky looked at the ground as he evened out his breathing. There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you. Only heavy breaths and the distant sound of the music from the gala lingered in the air. It was almost comforting. Almost.

“Sharon and I...it wasn’t easy for us when Steve left. It was something that we both had in common. We wanted to fix ourselves and in the process we just...it happened. I didn’t mean for it but it just happened.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The pain was replaced with grief and then anger. A little sympathy was thrown in the mix too upon hearing Bucky’s reason but now you were back to square one. Pain.

“You worried for her when Steve left but didn’t worry about me when you chose to leave me hanging? You told me you needed to fix yourself alone because you didn’t want to hurt me in the process of doing so. Guess what, Bucky? You hurt me all the same. Even more so when you chose to stay for Sharon and when you allowed her to help you fix yourself.”

Bucky remained silent as he simply gazed at you and let you say your piece. You just couldn’t understand where he truly was coming from. You knew about his insecurities and you accepted each one of them. You’d wholeheartedly accepted Bucky from the moment you knew you loved him, that included his flaws and demons, even on days he hated himself.

“Don’t shut me out like that again, please?” You asked Bucky, when he finally let you inside his room after isolating himself for days.

He had those days, when he couldn’t bring himself to come out and just...live. He’d push people away and torture himself with negative thoughts. But you always stayed no matter what.

“‘m sorry doll, I just...sometimes...I love you so much but sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough of it to actually show you. And you don’t deserve that.” He explained.

You smiled and cupped his cheek, “That’s okay, Bucky. I love you and the amount of love I have for you is more than enough for both of us.”

Was your love not enough for him all along? For him not to consider how you would feel if he just decided not to come home to you anymore? You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for everything, you did your part. But you couldn’t help but wonder whether it was because of you that Bucky chose to walk away.

“I love you, I really do. And you deserve the best and I’m not...that. I chose to let you go so you can have that.”

“I don’t need the best version of you, Bucky!” You quickly cut him off. “I just need you.” You added.

When Bucky decided to leave to get better, you let him even though you hated to see him walk away. You’d be selfish not to, especially when Bucky was finally free to decide things for himself. It was for the best, but honestly speaking, you didn’t want a better version of him.

Whether it was the Winter Soldier or James Buchanan Barnes, whatever version of him he’d give to you, you love Bucky all the same.

You love Bucky so much that it was so painful for you to hear that he actually thought you’d be happier without him.

“You don’t deserve someone as damaged as me. Even if I got better, I’m still struggling and I don’t want to make things hard for you.” Bucky said.

“And you don’t get to decide what you think I deserve! You don’t get to abandon me like I was nothing, like we were nothing to you.” You seethed.

Bucky looked away, blinking his tears away as he tried to compose himself. His jaw tensed as he looked at you with an apologetic gaze.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. You didn’t have to.” He said the same thing to you when he left, and it hurt just as much.

“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.

Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”

“I know. But in all those years you were gone, I woke up each day and chose to wait for you. I always chose you, Bucky.” You said with a sad smile.

You stumbled a bit and lifted your dress enough to reveal your bleeding foot. You’d walked that long, for your feet to get wounded and ironically, you couldn’t feel anything but the pain of seeing Bucky again. He tried to approach you and help you out but you waved a hand and kept him at an arm’s length away from you. You removed your shoes and straightened up, looking at Bucky and his ocean blue eyes for one last time.

“I’m sorry if you felt like you weren’t enough. You’re more than enough for me, Bucky. I really thought that I could love and fight for the both of us, but I guess not.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else, and you hoped he would. It might have been pathetic of you to wish that he’d come back to you, but you really hoped he would say something to fight for you. He didn’t and that was enough for you to make a decision.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

You bit your lower lip as you turned around, holding back your tears as you jogged back into the gala. You walked past everyone in the crowd in a hurry, wanting to head home as quickly as possible. And then you came face to face with someone you weren’t prepared to confront.

It’s as if time stopped when you saw her, Sharon. She must have found out about your presence. Did she know of Bucky’s decision to abandon you? You wondered how she helped Bucky better himself, why he let her stay as he fixed himself.

Why Bucky chose to be with her instead of coming home to you.

You could feel your chest constrict again, the pain continuing to consume you whole. If you stayed any longer, you were afraid you might break.

“Do you love him?” You asked her softly.

Without missing a beat, Sharon nodded her head. “I do.” She whispered.

“How much?” You asked again.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” Sharon responded and you could feel the sincerity in her statement.

The way she said it wasn’t meant to hurt you nor mock you. It was reassuring, in fact. Like she was making you a promise that she was going to take good care of Bucky the same way you did. Maybe even more. You swallowed as you nodded, forcing a small smile before looking away to wipe a tear that slipped.

“That’s good.” You simply said. “Because I’d do anything for him too.”

Anything. Even if that meant walking away and giving up on a battle that you’d already lost the moment Bucky decided to abandon you.

-

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[erimeows]

Intervention, Baby

Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.

His favorite, though? You. You by far. 

After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.

You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.

Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.

It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.

The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.

Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.

Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.

He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong. 

“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.

“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.

“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.

“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.

“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”

There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.

Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.

They were staring at him. 

It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.

“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”

“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”

“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”

“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.

“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”

“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.

“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”

“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.

“Get bent.”

~

That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.

Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.

So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not. 

“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay. 

You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.

“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”

“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.

“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”

You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.

“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”

“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now. 

Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”

“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”

“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”

“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”

“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”

Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were. 

Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.

[kitacco]

sunrise.

pairing: fem!reader, gojo satoru.

genre: angst with happy ending.

summary: time doesn’t always heal.

cw: mention of manipulation, violence.

wordcount: 4.1k.

! part two of clouds !

the sky is clear when you look up into the sky. even though the sun is not out, and instead, the sky is covered with grey clouds, you still like to believe it’s clear.

he made you believe that the first time you two met.

it wasn’t like you were escaping from reality, he simply thought if there was something you could change, then you should. you believed him, after so long.

how could you describe how he makes you feel? you had never felt it before. he felt like the orange sky adorned by the full sun, illuminating the grass and bringing warmth to the body despite the breeze. was that an exaggeration? probably, he didn’t think so, though. he made you believe you could rewrite reality with only your imagination.

meeting him was fate. he told you that, you thought it was sheer coincidence and two people on the right place. he was a little more romantic than you, though.

you had been to therapy for about two years.

things weren’t easy, and honestly, you wished you could forget about it.

your therapist assured you it wasn’t your fault - it took you a while to understand that.

you were aware that it wasn’t entirely your fault, what happened was a casualty, sadly, an experience you had to go through, but also a lesson you had the opportunity to learn from. it wasn’t easy, you understood that after a year of one session every month. you cried a lot, more than what you expected, and you felt responsible. because, if you hadn’t fallen for him, everything would’ve turned out well.

you were quick to learn that your emotions shouldn’t make you guilty, instead, who was to blame was him.

after a while, you finally accepted it.

gojo never contacted you after everything happened. you wanted to go on with your life like he most likely was, however, you were incapable of creating any type of relationship with people. what used to be a big group of friends became one, and what used to be exciting became scary. your friends, then, insisted you visited a therapist. you didn’t want to, at first. if anything, you wished you could simply erase the situation from your brain for the rest of your life, but how could you when subconsciously you failed to move on? your friend and her husband moved away, and so did you. she left the city while you moved to the other end of the city. not necessarily because you wished to avoid him; your therapist thought it was better to forge relationships from zero. 

another year passed, and he had completely vanished from your life. you hadn’t told your new roommate about it, but you knew your friend had before you moved in. you didn’t mind. you knew she was trying to protect you. but, it’s not like he’d ever come around again - that you believed so.

you didn’t exactly know how you met him. maybe it really was fate, like he said once. only eleven months after the incident, you were still incapable of communication. leaving your house was scary and worrisome for anything other than therapy, so you didn’t tend to visit places much often. during the time, you were still leaving at your old apartment. your friend insisting on you moving on had already convinced you of leaving the building, and that day you were finally taking the boxes out.

you met by the stairs. a box had fallen from your hands straight to his feet.

as much as you apologized, he only smiled, assuring you he was alright.

and that was it.

you met him again on your way to your therapist. it was all too similar, you thought to yourself. he happened to have a friend living in the same building as you (he was literally your next door neighbor), and you were starting to open up to people a little more. you knew his friend, as much as one knows a neighbor. the guy was nice and he always gave your roommate eyes - she genuinely didn’t mind him.

you told your therapist about it the other day. and the next day, the guy was knocking at your door.

you remembered how nice having company felt. your roommate worked all day, while you only stayed at home. unable to properly work just yet, you only worked in the mornings at a coffee shop. it was safe and easy for you most of the times, only having to wipe tables and greet costumers. you didn’t complain.

he told you he had just gone to see his friend and happened to be curious about you. his eyes were a little intense but there was something about the tone of his voice and shakiness of his smile that managed to make you feel at peace.

besides your roommate, he became someone you could trust.

things didn’t go as quickly as it would’ve normally. you had never invited him inside your house alone, but when your roommate was there, you would let him inside. he would always visit with sweets or a cup of coffee for you. 

it’s like everything repeated itself once again in some extent.

after hanging out with your roommate and him, his friend started tagging alone. the guy was sweet and funny, and in less than three weeks he managed to get your roommate to go on a date with you.

that was the first time the two of you spent alone.

you’d thought by that time you were over it. you were quick to understand there were some wounds that no matter how much you tried, would leave scars that still hurt.

but he didn’t mind waiting all the time in the world for you, and he let you know that.

looking back, you finally realized what real love truly was. he was what real love felt like.

small touches, assuring words, constant communication. silence wasn’t needed with him, and your eyes never spoke more than what words did.

you genuinely felt safe again.

gojo didn’t mean this to happen. after the yelling of your friend and the end of the friendship with his friend, gojo decided he was done with you forever.

so then, why was he involuntarily following you around the store?

he had no other intentions than to look at you for one last time. it had been a while, and he was genuinely curious about how you were doing. it was impossible to find anything about you, you had completely wiped yourself out from social media, and all your friends had blocked him too. that should’ve been enough for him to understand he wasn’t welcomed in your life anymore.

but then, why was he walking towards you? maybe for some closure, maybe to apologize, maybe only to say hi.

he couldn’t tell, but it was too late before he could make up his mind.

gojo tapped your shoulder quietly in the snacks aisle. he didn’t feel nervous, tense, or uneasy, almost as if the two of you were old friends that happened to meet again after so long, picking up the friendship where it had been left off. gojo was quick to realize that wasn’t the case, though.

“gojo!” you exclaimed, jumping at his sight.

had he always been that tall?

“it’s been a while,” he chuckled, looking back at your cart full. “you got a lot there, huh? you live closeby?”

gojo didn’t waste any time, pressing a hand against your cart, trapping you.

“no,” you’re quick to answer.

one of gojo’s eyebrows raises, and you look around, hoping someone can notice your state. 

“oh, then you like this store? it has more things than the others around the city, i guess-”

“i’m sorry, gojo, i’m busy and need to finish this as fast as i can, but it was nice seeing you again!”

gojo’s gaze stays on your figure as you run off with your cart. he knows you’re lying, but which two was a lie? he didn’t know.

gojo should’ve taken the hint.

he walks out of the store, noticing the clouds turn darker than they were before. he’s deliberately waiting for you outside, hoping he can get you to talk a little more. was he curious about you? not really. was he wishing he could get you back?

perhaps.

you step out of the store with the cart full of bags, and gojo approaches you fastly, startling you once again.

“need a ride?”

“oh, no, thank you,” you decline, pulling the bags out of the cart.

“then let me help you to your car,” he proposes, reaching out for one of your bags.

“no!” you exclaim, grabbing them faster than he could. “i-it’s fine, there’s a station right there so it’s fine.”

“oh no, are you silly? so many bags on the train, you’re in a rush and it’ll more likely rain? c’mon, i’ll drive you home.”

you decline his offer again, your mind running wild. it’s not that you didn’t want to accept his generosity, but suddenly all the fears you once thought were buried floated to the surface again. suddenly it felt like all the progress you had made the past years was being ripped out of your consciousness. 

“please, gojo, trust me, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing onto your bags and trying to walk away. you look around, hoping someone sees the two of you, hoping someone would stop him. but no one is around, and no one but you can stop this.

but when you see gojo again, you finally understand it was never your fault.

gojo manages to get through you, and now you’re seated by his side as he mindlessly drives through the city. you texted your boyfriend the moment you got inside his car, telling him you were coming to his place and asking him to wait for you a few streets away. he instantly called you, but too nervous, you declined the call. you didn’t want gojo to know any more about your personal life, nor know you had moved away. if anything, you wanted gojo to disappear.

but could you tell him that?

“feels like the old times,” gojo mutters over the music on the radio.

like the old times?

an inexplicable feeling rises up your chest, yet you stay silent, wishing the ride was over. gojo would occasionally eye you, and everything would feel too familiar. 

only that this time the tables had turned. because you realized you hated gojo’s guts, and he realized he loved you dearly. 

“we should, hang out, again,” he mutters.

“i don’t think i can,” you speak, this time, your voice doesn’t falter, and gojo turns to face you.

“you got a boyfriend?”

“no,” you retort. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve always been busy, can’t you make some time for me again?”

you don’t answer. you knew too well, that if you say a word, you’ll explode. and as capable you thought you were of getting back to him, you could also remember clearly everything gojo had done to you. you don’t think it was worth the risk, trying to speak your heart out with someone like gojo.

he would never understand; he never wanted to. and he didn’t deserve to either.

“it’s here,” you announce, and gojo stops abruptly.

he frowns once he sees the man approaching his car, and you’re quick to jump out, telling him the bags were in the back. gojo steps out of the car too.

“hey, nice to meet you,” he says, and your boyfriend looks at you. “you’re his friend?”

“she’s my girlfriend.”

your breath hitches and you’re quick to grab his hand, distracting him from gojo’s conversation.

your boyfriend wasn’t an impulsive guy. he’s thoughtful and caring, fast to understand any situation he’s in front of.

but gojo is the complete opposite, and by experience, you know no one can go against gojo, no matter how hard they try.

“oh, that’s nice,” gojo taps the top of his car as he watches the two of you grabbing the bags. “i can help you carry some bags upstairs, if needed so.”

“it’s fine, thank you,” your boyfriend responds for you.

your boyfriend grabs your hand along the bags and walks towards the building gojo knows too well.

for your surprise, gojo doesn’t insist, and when you look back, he’s already inside the car, watching the two of you enter the building.

after that incident, you once again were incapable of leaving your apartment. and you didn’t want your boyfriend to leave his either.

gojo surely had changed, you noticed that the day you two met again. he looked taller, stronger, and unnerving. even though the two of you had been friends for many years, gojo was still unpredictable. you learnt that the last years of friendship you two shared.

“can i help you’” your boyfriend speaks.

gojo is at the other side of the door, in what was once your building, and outside what was once your apartment.

he cocked his eyebrows, incapable of hiding the smile creeping up his face.

“oh, you live together? that’s sweet,” gojo comments.

your boyfriend doesn’t respond, closing the gap between his body and the door so gojo couldn’t see indie his house, “yeah, what you want?”

“well, my birthday is coming and i thought maybe the three of us could celebrate it together. i don’t know if she told you, but we’re really good friends.”

your boyfriend nods, of course you haven’t.

“i don’t think we can, the both of us work.”

“oh, yeah? well, she always manages to make time for me, maybe i could ask her personally since you’re acting quite weird,” gojo tries again, his hand pressing against the surface of the white door.

“no, i’ll ask her and we’ll let you know.”

“fine, i’ll wait for your answer by saturday, if not, maybe i’ll come back,” gojo mutters, smirking.

your boyfriend wasn’t an aggressive guy. but, hell, he wished he could punch his face so bad.

he didn’t tell you anything about gojo’s visit nor invitation. you were already having a pretty bad time, you didn’t need more pressure put on your shoulders.

he genuinely thought he’d made the best decision - yet, he couldn’t help feel intimidated by the figure he happened to constantly meet.

gojo always told him it was a coincidence. he didn’t believe him, and fast enough, he started to understand your emotions. there was something eerie about the guy.

in no time, gojo had managed to push him against a wall. your boyfriend noticed what gojo claimed was coincidence was, indeed, his following, and too scared of him finding out you, in fact, didn’t live with him, your boyfriend started lying to you, claiming he had too much work and that he couldn’t go visit you. you facetimed and called each other often, but sadly, you felt uneasy, and your boyfriend knew too.

but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

“so, you made up your mind?”

your boyfriend stands at the other side of the door, startled by the tall white haired man. he’s smiling, as always, feigning a kind gesture as if the two of them were friends. 

“sorry man,” your boyfriend speaks up. is his voice shaking? “we couldn’t get a break from work.”

“oh, that’s unfortunate,” gojo clears his throat, smiling again. “then maybe you guys can pick a day and we can meet then.”

your boyfriend observes him, eyes darker despite the blue orbits. his tapping his feet against the floor, unable to read gojo, and he, simply smiles. he knows he’s made your boyfriend nervous, and suddenly, he’s reminded of you.

no wonder you’d get with a guy like that.

gojo knew he couldn’t let you, though, you couldn’t stay with a guy like him.

how could he protect you if something ever happened to you? this guy was so easy to manipulate. it didn’t take more than a faint punch and the closing door for him to lose his composure in front of gojo. wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to be strong enough, like him perhaps? what was this guy gonna do if he were to be in front a situation like this again? he can’t seem to land a single hit on gojo, instead, receiving the other end. gojo expects him to put up a fight, maybe ask him to stop, but he doesn’t.

he wasn’t the man for you. gojo was, he just had to prove it to you.

snapping a picture, gojo sighed.

“guess i’ll have to show her what she’s missing, don’t you think?”

your boyfriend can’t stop him when he walks out of the door, and neither can he watch him, his vision too red, and the iron smell stir his insides.

gojo looks through the guy’s phone. who leaves their phone without a password? he was only proving gojo his unworthiness. this guy wasn’t made for you.

all he had to do now is let you know.

you hear knocking on your door. it’s late, your roommate is out with her boyfriend and your boyfriend didn’t tell you he was coming. still, hopefully, you walked to the door, expecting him to surprise you.

what did surprise you was gojo on the other side, with flowers on his hands.

“did i surprise you?”

it’s too fast, or maybe not, you don’t know. gojo casually enters your house, the place you had so long worked to keep safe. he leaves the flowers on the table, and approaches you, wrapping his arms around your figure.

you’re not shaking nor reacting, and gojo takes in your warmth.

oh, how much he missed you.

“i missed you so much,” he whispers in your ear. “did you miss me?”

you reach out for your phone on the back of your pants, carefully bringing it in front of you to quickly deal your boyfriend’s number.

a phone starts ringing, and it doesn’t take you long to recognize the ringtone.

“oh, someone’s calling,” gojo mentions, letting you go to check your boyfriend’s phone. it’s like he was expecting you to do so, answering the call like he hadn’t seen your caller id on the screen. “yes?”

“why do you have my boyfriend’s phone?”

“we happened to meet before i came here, nothing too serious, don’t worry,” gojo pats your head. “he was being an asshole, though, i guess i just had to prove him.”

you gasp when gojo brings up the phone to your face, “w-what did you do?”

“told you, i just wanted to make sure he was enough for you. he wasn’t, though, so i had to come let you know.”

only proves we’re made for each other, don’t you think?

you shake your hand, taking a step back.

“listen, listen gojo,” you start. your voice is firm and your trying to keep your cool too. gojo has many times proven what he’s capable of, and right now, you only wanted to at least postpone whatever he planned to do. “i think you should go home, it’s like, my roommates coming with her boyfriend, i don’t think it’s fine if they see you here.”

“you think? we can find out though.”

“no, i don’t think we should, so, let’s leave it here, we can meet tomorrow, okay? we can go have lunch together and catch up like old times.”

gojo laughs, shaking his head as he looks down to his hands.

“why are you treating me like i’m crazy?” he asks, and your breath hitches. you stop and watch his movements, suddenly the atmosphere turning colder. “because i’m in love with you?”

“i’m sorry, gojo—”

“is it wrong to be in love? are you really blaming me for my feelings?”

you can’t tell if he’s being honest or putting up an act. once again, he’s managed to get inside your head. you don’t have more options and your minds clouded, unable to find a proper solution to the situation, unable to end this.

“just give me one last chance, that’s all i ask from you.”

gojo knows you too well, too much for your own safety and sometimes for his own liking.

and so you find yourself sitting at a restaurant a few streets away from your apartment, waiting for gojo to arrive. you didn’t believe you’d made an irresponsible decision - in fact, this was the smartest way to handle the situation. your boyfriend pleaded you to not come. you could understand that, he’d finally met gojo and he’d sensed it; gojo was far stronger mentally and physically than you’d suspect. it was fine. you weren’t nervous or scared, no, because, if there was something your therapist had told you, was that, as long as you set your boundaries and knew your worth, you wouldn’t fall for his tactics anymore. you didn’t come here to make friends with him again or to assure him everything was okay, you were here to let him know it was over. plus, you had decided to give yourself a day to decide what exactly you were gonna tell him.

“didn’t expect you to come in so early,” he mutters, taking a seat in front of you. “you’re fifteen minutes—”

“let’s talk,” you interrupt.

gojo can sense it, you’ve changed. when he looks at you, he can tell you’re not that deer he’d used to hunt for.

he wants to tell you the truth - the one he’s made up in his head.

“i love you, i’m in love with you.”

it hasn’t been more than five minutes since he sat down. gojo notices the lack of reaction, the indifference in your face, and suddenly, he’s feeling nervous. he’s not good with words and you know that, yet you’re not reacting the way he’d pictured, imagined, last night. you’re not telling him you’re in love with him too and that you want to try again. you’re not smiling or reaching out to hold his hand on the table, or getting up to wrap your arms around his body. you stay in your place, with eyes boring into his, waiting for him to say something else.

but he’s got nothing else to say, “gojo, i don’t love you.”

gojo doesn’t like that, you can tell by the soft tapping of his shoes under the table. the restaurant is full and you know the last thing he wants to do is make a scene. because, if he were to do so, his true colors would show.

“how are you sure about that? is it because of your boyfriend?” gojo asks, leaning closer to you. “you know he’s not the one, you know he doesn’t make you feel the way i do.”

“gojo, everything is in the past,” you sigh, tilting your head, tired. “the both of us made bad decisions, played with each other, hurt each other, but that’s in the past and it should stay there.”

“no! i don’t want us to stay in the past, i need us right now,” gojo mutters, and if you didn’t know him well, you’d almost think he was pleading. “we’re meant to be.”

“we’re not!” you exclaim, now losing your patience. “we hurt each other, can’t you remember that? i let you play with me and manipulate me, and now that you’ve realized i did nothing but try to please you you’re suddenly feeling guilty! but things don’t work like that, gojo, mistakes like that can’t be embedded that easily. you have to take responsibility of your actions.”

“i never wanted to hurt you, i wanted you to be stronger—”

“and i am now, thanks to you,” you say. “thanks to what you did to me i’ve finally understand that i deserve better.”

“how do you know i can’t make it up to you?”

“because i won’t let you, because i’ve found somebody else that’ll make it up to me, and it’s not you.”

“one chance is all i’m asking—”

“you already had your one chance, and you wasted it.”

“then another one—”

you’re sure six months ago you’d fell for that. you’d wished to give gojo another chance. after all, no one was more special to you than he was. you could say, until this day, gojo was the most special person in your life. that didn’t mean you deserved to suffer to help him make it up to you. whatever he wanted wasn’t something healthy and neither of you deserved it. but it wasn’t your job to make gojo understand that, it wasn’t your responsibility to fix gojo.

gojo knew you had changed. he knew he didn’t have the right to come back in your life, nor were you supposed to help him embed things. still, he wished he could still have you by his side.

“it’s time to move on.”

because now, when he looks up at the sky early in the morning to watch the sunrise, he knows he wasn’t made to stay by your side.

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 3 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: character death, intent to kidnap, violence, abusive relationships, domestic physical and verbal abuse, blood mention, stalking, basically the reader has been in her own horror movie

Word Count: 3302

Basically, when I said this was gonna be the darkest thing I ever wrote, this was one of the chapters I was talking about. Vincent is coming the next chapter though!!

@meanduck

You were at your sister's house, and you'd almost been able to relax. It had been three weeks since you'd left your ex, three weeks since you'd seen him. 

At first, he'd been heavenly. You'd cultivated your relationship, thinking that the pair of you were growing together. It wasn't until you'd been with him for a few years that you realized you hadn't. You hadn't grown together, he'd grown around you . He'd grown around your life like vines around a tree, taking root in your soul and wrapping tightly around your every activity. And, at first, you didn't even mind it. Your parents had passed away during your relationship and you'd only had your sister and him to keep you going. You thought he was simply keeping you upright, from falling over and being consumed by the earth. That he held you up and kept you growing. Until you found that his leaves were soaking up all your sun.

It'd been little things at first. Comments here or there. Things he would never say in front of your friends or your sister. Just things that chipped at your self esteem. Then, the comments became yelling at you until you cried. Then- You shook your head. You didn't want to think about the shiner on your cheekbone or your busted lip. You hadn't looked at a mirror in the entire week you'd been at your sister's. Usually, you'd been able to cover up the results of his anger, and you'd made sure to avoid anyone until it faded into something a little easier to explain. But a shiner right near your eye and a busted lip? One surprise visit from your sister was all it took for you to crumble, to tell her everything. You tried to explain that it wasn't his fault, that he just got angry sometimes, but she'd packed you away in her truck and had about a quarter of your things at her house the next day. 

He had called. Over, and over, and over. Your sister picked up the phone each time, and had started hanging up the second she heard his voice after only a day of his insistent calls. She helped you build yourself back up, even if you'd only break back down the next day. And she even insisted that you file a restraining order. You'd been granted a PFA, and you'd finally gotten an official restraining order earlier that week. Some of your friends still couldn't believe what they heard, and you figured not all of those ties were going to last. Especially when he was in their ear. So, you spent most of your time at your sister's house, which had grown quiet ever since he'd been given notice. No calls, no voicemails, nothing. You were almost at peace living with her.

The pair of you were sitting in her living room, eating ice-cream and watching reruns. You'd reached over to give her hand a squeeze, a silent thank you. She'd decided to stay home from work that night, simply because you weren't sure you'd be able to withstand the night by yourself. She'd understood, and she'd told you,

"They can manage without me tonight." She was a waitress at the nearby diner, one she'd been working at ever since you were teenagers. She always made the same joke. You were the one that went to college, she was the one that waited tables. That was just that. Your parents hadn't had enough money to send you both, and you felt a little bad about it now, but you were sure you could make it up. Once school started again in September, you could help her pay for her house. Maybe she could take time off and take some night classes. Even if she assured you she was content with how things were every time you brought it up, you thought it could be good for her. Helping her was easier than helping yourself, after all.

When a commercial began to play, both of you groaned.

"They always pick the worst times." Your sister said as she fumbled for the remote. You leaned back, sucking on your spoon as you said,

"That's, like, the point. They wanna keep you in suspense." You said, and she rolled her eyes before she started flipping through the channels to find something to watch until the commercials were over.

"Suspense, my ass." She said, and you stifled your laugh with another bite of the frozen treat. She smiled at you, and, for the first time in a really long time, you felt safe again.

***

"I thought a beer might fit the occasion better." Bo said, and you accepted the drink all the same. He might've been right about that, and you watched as he flipped the cap off for you before handing you the drink. You took a long swig, having sat up, and wiped your mouth after you pulled the bottle away from it. You stared down at the green bottle in your hands, wondering where you should even start. At the beginning? You thought. 

But where was that? Your first date? His first comment? The first time he hit you? You took another swig. You decided that that night was the only really important night. But you hadn't even pried open the wound yet and it already stung. You played with the rim of the bottle opening as you began,

"I wasn't completely honest with you, Lester. I'm not just moving. I'm- I'm running away-" You stopped yourself to take another swig. It was hard to admit, but how else could you say it? You were running. To a new town, a new job. A whole new life in hopes of abandoning him with the one you'd left behind. The boys had gone quiet to let you talk, but Lester pressed on by asking,

"From what?" And you grimaced. It wasn't a what. The monster in your nightmares, the person that had plagued your young adult life. He wasn't a what, even if he acted like it sometimes. Even if it would be easier to understand him if he was a what.

"A who." You quietly corrected. You stared down at the bottle, missing the look the boys shared. "I'm running from a who. He, um," You paused, blinking quickly to push back the tears before just screwing your eyes shut altogether. The palm of your hand pressed against the bridge of your brow as the images of that night flooded back.

***

Just after that feeling began to settle, you heard a sound of a car hitting gravel. Both of your heads turned and it only took a second for both of you to realize who it was. You'd both seen the car time and time again over the years. In a second, all safety had snapped. Your sister was launching herself off the couch, heading straight for the front door and scooping the phone up on the way. She was already dialing 911, but there was a pause. His car door didn't open and his feet didn't hit the gravel. You didn't have time to figure out what had stalled him, because your sister was already talking to the cops. She was already telling them about the restraining order and that he was here, unannounced. You were frozen on the couch, and all you could do was listen. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your mind was fuzzy. What was he doing? Why is he here?  

There were a million possibilities and then one made itself clear, one that shook you and made a cold sweat appear on the back of your neck. Your sister was supposed to work tonight. You were supposed to be alone.

When that door finally slammed, you threw the ice-cream out of your hands the second you realized. He wouldn't come through the front. He wasn't stupid. You ran to the back, locking the door just as a dark figure appeared through the blinds. A silhouette outlined by the setting sun. Your sister was grabbing you, yanking you away from it as the handle shook. He was trying to get in. You could feel tears beading at your eyes, but your sister was slapping a hand over your mouth when you heard the glass shatter and tugging you under the dining room table.

***

You didn't have the words to describe what he was. He was a lot of things, and summing him up seemed just a little too difficult in your current state. You waved a hand, waving away their hands when they reached out to touch you. You didn't need to be consoled. Well, perhaps you did, but you weren't sure you'd be able to keep your composure if you were. You didn't want to cry in front of strangers, especially ones you'd just fainted in front of. Instead, you tried to focus on telling them what you knew. You started with how you knew him.

"My ex-boyfriend. He, um, he's really-" Psychotic. Abusive. Violent . "Dangerous." That was the word you landed on. "I left my hometown to start over and to, well, leave him behind. But, he," You stared at your hands, before you took another swig. "He found my new apartment complex. That's why I-" You said, gesturing your hand to point out the current situation. You heard Bo suck in a breath. You looked up, seeing that he was lifting his brows and shaking his head. When you looked at Lester, he was rubbing the back of his neck. They were quiet for a moment, before Bo gave you a pat on your leg. His tone seemed to shift, a charming facade replacing it.

"Well, y'know, maybe he just wants to talk. Just wants closure. I mean, you did date him, so he can't be that bad." Bo said, and your face fell. His eyes followed the change, and his own attempt at a smile faded. You knew he couldn't have known. That he was just trying to be polite and make you feel better. You knew you shouldn't take it personally or snap at him. But, you couldn't help the coldness of your voice when you said,

"He killed my twin sister. The only closure he wants is to finish the job." And you downed the rest of the bottle.

***

You and your sister had been hiding. Under the table while he checked the living room, darting towards the living room the second he went back into the kitchen. He'd been talking the entire time. Almost as if he wanted you to know where he was,

"Yoo-hoo. I didn't expect you to be home tonight, I'll tell you that. But that's fine. I'm here to take your sister home." You'd heard him head towards the other side of the house, back towards the laundry room and the guest bathroom. "A restraining order? Now, I thought maybe she was just going to take some time to herself. Realize how much she missed me. But I got that notice and, well, I knew you'd stuck your hooks in deep." You could almost imagine him wagging his finger. He was heading towards your sister's study. "Y'know, you two might be identical, but," He paused. You could practically see him shaking his head. "I could always tell the difference. My baby she's just- She's a little softer, ain't she? And she's got that smile." He whistled. "No wonder all those kids listen to her. She could stop traffic with that smile. She's here, ain't she? Well, honey, stop hiding, okay? Just stop hiding, and we'll go home. I won't do nothing. Promise." And you could nearly hear him cross over his heart. Your sister placed a finger over her lips, and you held a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. As if she believed you might really sell them out, surrender yourselves to him. She peeked over the couch, before she was dragging you by your hand towards the central stairway. She peeked past the banister, her china closet and umbrella holder on your left. You looked around, making sure he wasn't coming back. He was being quiet now, and the silence made it so the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You looked down. There, leaning against the china closet, was a wooden baseball bat. You wrapped your hand around it, tugging it close to you as you sister leaned close to whisper,

"We head for the attic, close the stairs, and wait for the police to come. Okay? Don't look behind you and just run." She said, and you gave her a nod. But, just as you rounded the corner and got halfway up the stairs, you heard the slap of your ex's hand against the banister.

"Gotcha." You turned, and you didn't think. You swung, surprising the man and hitting him square across the face. Right across the mouth. In all the years you'd dated, you'd never once striked him. You hit him again, the force behind the blow making him fall back and land on his back. You wanted to hit him again. Make sure he wouldn't follow you up the stairs. Make sure he wouldn't bother you ever again. A rush of adrenaline had gone through you, and you knew it would be so easy. One or two more purposeful swings and you'd never have to worry about him again. But your sister was yanking the bat out of your grasp and pulling you up the stairs.

He was down, but he wasn't out. The second the pair of you had gotten the stairs to the attic down, you heard the top stair behind you creak. Your sister had ushered you to go up first. To get to safety. But you turned around, seeing that, while his mouth was bleeding, he could walk fine. 

"You bitch." He cursed, taking a step towards you on the landing. Your sister swung the bat, just as you did, but the element of surprise was gone. He caught the swing, and you hadn't been able to see the look on your sister's face as he yanked her forward by it. "Fuck you." He said to her, and you screamed a cry of,

"No!" As he wrestled the bat out of her grasp and threw her down the stairs. You stared, unblinking. People fell down the stairs before and walked away completely fine. And some didn't. Your sister laid in a heap, unmoving. You'd heard the sickening crack, the sound of bone crunching. A sound that let you know that she wasn't going to get up. She wasn't going to save you this time. You'd frozen, staring at the girl at the bottom of the stairs. At the face that had matched your own, but who's eyes had gone blank. He'd practically leapt towards you. His hands on your arms, his grip tight enough to crush bone. His breath was hot in your face as he spat out the words, 

"You think you can leave me? You think what she got was bad? When I'm done with you, you'll wish it was you at the bottom of the stairs." But the next sound was the sound of a siren, and you watched as your ex's head swiveled towards the door. Again, you didn't think. You threw your head forward, headbutting him hard enough to make your ears ring and to knock him back. You'd hit him right in the nose, and it was gushing blood. His grip loosened and you pushed him the rest of the way. You pushed yourself to turn around, scampering up the stairs. You yanked the stairs up just as he tried to pull himself up, and brought the string with you. You sat there, holding onto the string so tight that your knuckles had turned white. You were breathing heavily, and a sob racked through you as what just happened finally caught up to you. You laid on the floor of the basement, the smell of dust clogging your nose as you cried. For the first time in your entire life, you were completely alone.

***

"You hit him with a bat?" Bo asked, a soft chuckle of surprise leaving his lips. You'd explained what happened, how he'd broken in after hearing about the restraining order. If Bo hadn't already refilled your hand with another beer, you would probably be mortified that you were telling them this much. 

"And broke his nose." You said after taking a swig, wiping your lips with your sleeve once again. That was the only bit of satisfaction you'd gotten from the situation, even if regret outweighed it in multitudes. "I-I know it's not good to say this, but I really," You paused to take another swig. "I really wish she'd let me finish it. Then, then," The words were thick in your throat. "Then, she would've lived." You gestured with the bottle for a moment, your mouth opening as if you had more to say, before you snapped it closed. You were staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either of their gazes. Even if they seemed warmer than ever. "I should've killed that sonovabitch." You mumbled to yourself, taking another long swig until there was only about an inch left in the bottle. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I need to- I need to call my friends. Tell them what happened." You were moving to get up, moving to stand. But Bo was placing a hand on your shoulder and saying,

"No, no. That's not a good idea, darlin'." And your gaze turned confused. His voice was as charming as ever as he said words that disturbed you to no end. "Obviously, one of them is a rat. How else would he have found you?" He asked, and you stared at him. Perhaps you were drunk, or maybe he was truly right. You looked away, considering the idea. "Or maybe one of them didn't mean to give it away. Either way," He sighed, shaking his head. "The less people know the better."

"Well, I've gotta- I've gotta head home then. He'll think I'm- I'm in my new town-" But Bo was cutting you off again.

"Listen, honey, if I was a crazy psycho like that guy," He said, making a gesture with his thumb. "The next place I'd look for you is in your hometown. Now, you were gonna have to stay the night in Ambrose anyways, right? I haven't even started on your car." He pulled back, throwing up his hands. "And Ambrose isn't even on a map. So , the smartest thing to do is to stay here, in this house, until you figure out your next move." And maybe you were just drunk, but Bo was making perfect sense. Still, you said,

"I couldn't- I couldn't ask that of you. I don't have money to pay rent and I don't- I probably can't even pay for my car- "

"You're not asking, I'm offering." He said, poking a finger at you and then at him. "And, as for payment, I'm sure we can work something out. Now, I-" He looked up, glancing at Lester. "Wouldn't feel like a good christian if I just let you leave after hearing a story like that. You'll stay in Ambrose, and we'll look after you until you figure out what to do." And you could feel your lip trembling as you looked at the man. You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and hugged him before you could even think twice. He seemed surprised, and he awkwardly pat your back as you whispered a mantra of,

"Thank you." Over and over.

[spenciegoob]

11 Minutes

A/N: Hi this is lovely based on the song 11 Minutes by Yungblud featuring Halsey, so if you’ve heard that song before, man I’m really sorry for this one. If you haven’t... man I’m really really sorry for this one. Also yes this is really short I’m sorry.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: death of a major character, car accident, therapy

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4K

____

“Spencer, the last two times that I’ve seen you, we’ve sat in silence,” the doctor pointed out, obviously annoyed that her patient, who ironically enough had more PhDs, was wasting their time. “I know it’s hard to start, but the best place to, is from the beginning.”

“Y/N. Their name was Y/N.” This was the first time Doctor Fredricks heard Spencer say anything besides their usual before meeting greetings, and after meetings scheduling. “I heard it all, you know?”

“Heard what, Spencer?”

“Everything.”

“Spencer, I promise you I am getting in the car now. You’ll get to see me in 15 minutes,” you laughed into the phone at your very impatient boyfriend.

“Actually, I’ll see you in 17 minutes and 42 seconds give or take traffic patterns and how awful your first attempt at parking is.” It had been exactly 9 days 7 hours 24 minutes and 43 seconds since you last saw Spencer, and he wasn’t the one counting down by the second this time. 

“Hey!” You barked right back. You weren’t the greatest parker in the world, but there was no need to mention it. “I could walk and skip the parking altogether.”

“No,” he whined, growing more impatient by the second. “That’ll take you an hour, and it’s been enough time since I got to see you. Please love bug, I take back the parking comment.”

“Alright, alright, alright. You’re getting off the hook...” you said as you put the key in the engine, but before you turned the car on, you mumbled, “this time.”

“I heard that!” You couldn’t stop the guilty giggle from escaping your throat and into the speaker of the phone. “Did I just hear your car turn on? I’m hanging u-”

“No, sh. I’m putting you on speaker. Don’t worry, doctor. I’m not on my phone while driving.” Of course Spencer would be nervous about you being distracted by anything while driving, he had the statistics lodged in his brain about car accident deaths.

“Did you know that roughly 1.35 mi-”

“Million people in the US die on the road with an average of 3,700 per day? How could I forget?” You cut him off, hearing this rant every time you went to change the station on your car radio.

“You’re on speaker, and I’ve been driving for 2 minutes already. I think I’ll be fine for the next 15, I promise.” You both knew it was ridiculous to stay on the phone as you headed over to his apartment. It was like the two of you couldn’t wait another second without the other, and thankfully modern technology granted you both that.

“It’s dangerous, love bug, and you know it.” Spencer just would not give up, would he? You’ve had your license for over a decade, and yet he held onto the handle next to his window as if he was your mother teaching you to drive for the first time whenever he was in the car with you. “Plus you speed.”

“What can I say? I like to live on the danger side. Plus do you really want to talk about car deaths, or can I yell at you for insulting my driving TWICE now,” you joked, feigning offense to Spencer’s truthful mean comments about your driving.

“I would much rather talk about how much I missed you,” he sweet-talked to you. While it was cute and all, you knew it was just so you would immediately forget about his little backhand driving comments.

“I missed you, too, my love.” Of course it worked. It was Spencer Goddamn Reid.

“How much longer?” The tone of a little boy in a candy shop whose parents just said no to pounds of sugar returned. You smiled and shook your head to yourself.

“According to maps, 13 minutes.” You let your mind wander as you stared out into the road ahead of you. How did you get so lucky with Spencer?

The day you two reached for the same book in a small library that was almost hidden to the street outside was the best day of your life. You and Spencer talked for hours about Emily Dickinson, other authors, composers and personal lives. It felt natural to spend time with him, and if you could, you’d spend every waking moment with him. That day, you hadn't even realized that 5 hours had passed, nor did you realize you never asked for his name in that amount of time.

“Don’t speed, but hurry up...please.”

“Spencer, how am I supposed to do those things at once?” The light turned red before you could run it, adding at least another 30 seconds before you got to see him.

“I’m 11 minutes away. The lights in this city just su-” You never got to finish your sentence, because the car behind you forgot to stop.

Your head shot forward, hitting the top of the steering wheel as your car and the pick up truck coming at you at 40 miles an hour made impact. Your car had involuntarily skidded in the middle of the intersection. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a busy one.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” You hadn’t registered Spencer’s insistent yelling through the speaker in your phone until the ringing in your eyes subsided to a small dull.

“Y-Yeah,” you croaked out. “Some ass just hit me from behind.”

That’s when you looked to the left of you.

They say when people die, they see a white light at the end of a tunnel, but you saw two. You saw two headlights coming in your direction at a speed that you knew was impossible to stop. The weight the truck carried along with the amount of force used to halt the tires in their place made it so that the driver had no choice.

“You know I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.” You stared death in the eyes, it coming in the form of yellow lights and a blaring horn you knew Spencer could hear on the other end.

“Y/N, I-”

“I never got the chance to actually say it back.” Spencer finished recollecting your death, something he only did in the comfort of his home, alone with nothing but the silent sobs that raked through his body.

“Spencer, you don’t have to tell me for me to know that you blame yourself,” Dr. Fredricks spoke calmly, too calm for Spencer’s liking. He had just told her about the worst moment of his life, and she still held the same tone as if she was saying see you next week.

“How could I not?” He started to get more upset by the second, his voice rising in volume and his body leaning forward. “How do I sit here, and not blame myself? I called them that day. I was the one that rushed them. Me, no one else, but me!”

“Were you driving either cars that hit them?” Spencer knew what she was doing. Dr. Fredricks was trying to get him to admit it wasn’t his fault, so instead of giving in, he stayed silent. She sighed before continuing.

“You need closure, Spencer. The wound is still so fresh that it will never start to heal if you don’t let it.” At this, Spencer sat back and fiddled with his fingers.

She was right. He needed to start healing instead of ripping the wound farther across this heart, cutting deeper each time.

“That’s all the time we have for today. You’ve made great progress this week, and I hope that we can follow that pattern next week as well.” Spencer smiled down at his therapist as he stood up to walk out.

“Oh, and Spencer,” Dr. Fredrick called out. He stopped and turned, expecting a reminder he didn’t need for next week’s time.

“Their last words were I love you. Don’t ever forget they meant it.”

Spencer finally let a tear run down his cheek, the first time he cried in front of anyone after your death.

He nodded before walking out onto the busy DC street. As he was walking, Spencer took out his phone, flipping it between hands, contemplating his next move.

‘Closure, Spencer. You need closure.’ He kept repeating in his mind.

Finding a bench, he sat down to search his contacts for the one name he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

Before Spencer could rethink his next move, he made it, pressing the call button. The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.

‘Hey! Sorry I missed you, I’m probably asleep. Leave a message, but I can’t promise I’ll listen to it. Bye!’

“Hey, love bug.”

____

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[cutegirlmayra]

Modern Sonamy in a life and death this may be the end scenario where Sonic is finally forced to confront his feelings for Amy that he knows have been there for years. He plans to spend their final moments telling her his love but they are saved at the last minute. Afterwards he tries to go back to the usual but realizes he doesn't want to have any regrets and not have Amy know the truth. So he tries to figure out how to to tell her but the message isn't coming across until he gives her a kiss!

Watch Pajama Blogs - Prompt Requests - Ep.1 timestamp: 47:51 to hear my thoughts on this prompt back when I was first thinking about it! (Sometimes my thoughts change, so don’t be too disappointed if my processes changes a bit over time!)

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, so do not submit them until you see the post about the ‘grand reopening’ announcement or see that the ‘ask box’ tells you they are open. THEY ARE NOT OPEN AT THIS TIME.

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Prompt:

The gravel scooted and crumbled away from her hand as Sonic and Amy slammed against the side of the rocky wall, trying to dodge the intense heat of the magma from within Egg-Canyon-Mountain where they were attempting to sneak in and take the Chaos Emeralds back from powering a large and terrible machine.

The Machine right now didn’t matter though, because just before they were to remove them, Tails radioed that the machine was self-destructing, and it was all a trap.

Eggman had fled knowing the Chaos Emeralds would just pulse away from each other and become shooting stars in the daylight sky, and he’d have to find them all over again once the reactor malfunctioned sufficiently enough to flood the canyons with magma.

“Sonic, it’s only rising!” Amy was momentarily kidnapped when trying to reach the machine’s first Chaos Emerald slot, where Eggman used her to force Sonic to battle him and his new incredible robot, but it was all to buy time for his fatal trap.

Laughing as he exited, he dropped Amy and made a snide comment about ‘Dying with the one you love’ being a last mercy he’ll give... to Amy that is.

Even while dangling in the clutches of Eggman’s hovering robot’s metal talons, Amy couldn’t have judged well enough the machine’s overheating and powering up processes. It was truly unexpected, but completely within Eggman’s bounds...

Squished between the rocky layer of steep, vertical terra and a sweating Sonic, Amy was sandwiched between the thought of how they were gonna survive this.

“It’s not as fast as you, though!” She looked back over to him, seeing his eyes were fixated on the molten rock slowly rising to them on the thin strip of raised pathway they had against the side of the canyon, finally having made it out of the caverns...

This didn’t look good... Sonic was hot and panting to keep his body temperature regulated. With some degree of knowledge in health and medicine from treating his wounds and injuries all these years, she could tell he was too hot to run at full speed like usual without the proper coolness to not overheat himself. Not just that... but she was added weight... he’d never be able to scale the mountain’s straight drop at top-speeds if he had to carry her too...

She was nowhere near fat but still... this wasn’t looking too good for her.

Without missing a beat, she finally closed her eyes and pushed her nose to the wall, breathing in a dusty and dirt-filled breath of self-sacrifice and spoke aloud an unforgivable sentence. “If I hadn’t insisted on coming with you... to spend more time with you... in hopes that you would fall more in love with me if I was just as into adventure as you were... then you’d be able to run up this wall and get to the top safely.”

He turned his sights back to her, a frown apparent as she was speaking negatively, and he hated that. “Since when were you doubting?” he was always trying to play it cool, and as she took a sorrowful peek back to him, she couldn’t help but gently smile in her grief at seeing his cheery and confident smile.

“We’ll get out of this.” he assured her, “I need you to hang on, though. No more talk about what should and shouldn’t have happened. Can you get up on my back from here?” He looked back at the rising lava, apparently having a plan now.

She nodded, deciding it best not to bring up the inevitable, since her Sonic could do miracles!

... At least, this time, she couldn’t let him fall to his untimely death because of her persistence... 

She spun and he caught her to help her keep balance on the strip and then she tied her arms tightly around his neck as he began to slowly climb.

However, looking down at the speedily approaching magma filling the veins of the large expanse of rock with blood-colored fury and heat, and then looking up to see not a speck of the other side or even the sky as it was just a long, never-ending stretch to half the sky... she felt her heart sinking again.

He really could go faster without her, and looking down again, she saw the strip they were moments ago being pushed up against was now being reached and submerged in the melting rock...

Liquid fire... Was this the story of when Sonic had to face Metal that first time? She remembered him telling the story of reaching for Metal him’s hand before he whacked it aside, refusing to be saved by the one and true hero: Sonic.

There was only ever going to be one Sonic The Hedgehog... but there could be others that would love him just as much... though her grip tightened at admitting it, and ducking her head down, unable to produce tears in the steam of the ripples of heat rising up the cavern.

If they didn’t die of one slip-up or not moving fast enough, they would surely succumb to heat-exhaustion or heat-stroke.

Sonic felt the slight tug on his chin as though her grip around his neck had tightened in a desperate attempt to hold on, and although already straining to climb with someone else and his body feeling like a sauna plus a volcano at his feet, he really didn’t want to believe Amy was giving up on him.

“Amy..!” he called, having an instinct of what she was thinking, “Don’t do it!”

Amy’s head jerked up, “S...Sonic...” She was amazed he had caught on so quickly to her thoughts... her emotions... “B-but,... I-!” she wanted to convince him to let her do it, to let her allow him to run up the rocky wall and save himself.

“We’re getting out of this together or not at all!” he finally blurted out, taking Amy aback as he twitched to reach another hand out for another piece of rock that could be firm enough to give him a sturdy hand-grip. “Erk... ugh... ha... ha... Do me a favor, Amy... ha... umph!” he reached back and threw her up, shocking her as she cried out his name. “And quit acting like we’re dead already!”

She hit against a leveled path that slightly crumbled under her weight, making her kick her legs to scoot quickly back against the wall as Sonic was then able to Spin-Dash to a higher level, reaching down a hand for her. “Hurry!” he called, as she looked back to gasp at the lava not taking any ‘rest-stops’ so to speak. “There might be a cave that tunnels up from here!”

That was a sensationally good idea, except for one problem... if they went back into a tunnel and it went downwards.... then the magma would pinch them in on both sides... and their wouldn’t even be left unmelted fossil remains of them...

But right now, up was good.

She spun around and got up, reaching for his hand and having him struggle to hoist her up as she got her foot on the wall just before the magma rose and splashed against where she was just sitting. “Ah!”

“Amy!!!”

“I-I’m fine.” she squinted an eye as she was grateful the splash didn’t burn her. Her feet were fine, she hadn’t been exposed to it.

He pulled her up and the two just breathed heavily in the others arms a moment.

“You... can out run it... Sonic.” Amy spoke again, only hearing a grunt of annoyance from Sonic as she did so.

“Quit... fooling around... Amy.” his hold on her had loosened so much... she knew he was growing tired. First having snuck in and destroyed some robot scouts on the way down, then Eggman’s battle, and then rushing out before the magma overwhelmed them... Then climbing up such a perilous wall with her on his back... “Do you... see any tunnels..?”

She didn’t even look, she just pulled his forehead to her own, holding it there with her own, sweat-soaked white gloves on either side of his cheeks... saying her farewells in secret. “I know I’ve never voiced it before... but... I...”

Sonic blinked his eyes, before grabbing her arms, their gloves sticking to their skins and making a light blue, see-through effect through the shiny oils on both their exposed skin. Their furs were wetted and they’d be too slippery to attempt to climb again.

This was it.

Sonic lightly moved her to the wall, showing in his face his unbelief at her distrust all of a sudden that he could save them both, but beyond the hurt expression... there was a look she hadn’t fully seen before.

He pinned her slightly as he willingly put his forehead to hers and shut his eyes, trying to keep his breathing normal. “I know.” he stated, then with a shaky voice... “And you’ve always known too.”

She was frozen in that heat-soaked moment... Sonic finally dropping his own tall walls for a brief moment as they could hear the slushing of the magma rising to where they were.

They both looked back, Amy over his shoulder and Sonic to look at the impending doom before them.

“You had to know.” He chuckled out loosely, exhausted now emotionally too, “I gotta at least leave you with some comforting closure.”

“Of that?” Amy thought that the sweetest thing, but also grossly inappropriate for the timing. “Why did you wait till now to tell me?”

“Validate you. I never said anything.” He smirked, even now, trying to keep things light.

She wanted to kiss him, but felt that that would be an even greater sentence, and she’d be framed as the worst timing for romantic advances in history.

Even worse than his...

Sonic smiled to her before something glittery flicked light into his eye and caused him to squint it a few times repeatedly. Turning to find out what the strange source was, the two’s mouths opened at the entrance of a metal bunker impeded into the wall... not seen without the glow of the rising magma.

“An elevator!” The two exclaimed, seeing a mining device next to it. Sonic quickly scooped her up and pushed her in, “Going up!” he pressed the button but she didn’t want to part with him, the Elevator could be slow or worse, the mechanism below could be melted away by now.

“Sonic!” she cried out, agreeing--somewhat--with Eggman that she’d rather die in the arms of her beloved than alone in a small elevator meant for hauling metals up to the top of the canyon. And who knew where this actual thing landed! Maybe it wasn’t the top?

Sonic gave her a thumbs up and signature wink as she could see the lava splashing against the sides of where he was, “Noo!!!” as the chute shut tight and started cranking her upwards. She flung her back to the opposite side of where the tin had shut and felt the heat and the moment consuming her. ‘Sonic... do you mean that..? Do you really... love me?’

Sonic was tearing up the ground in his wake as dust spiraled behind him and he almost flew up at supersonic speeds through the canyon. All the while, he narrowed his eyes to the straight path the elevator was meant to take, making sure it reached the top. ‘Faster... Faster... Faster...!!!’ his eyes widened as his teeth clenched, seeing the lava building up and never stopping, not even for a moment, in consuming the rock beneath it and yet, his eyes trained to fixate on the metal pole that meant the chain was still hauling Amy up. “Endure it just a little longer,... Amy...” his eyebrow furrowed before bowing as he tripped by not watching where his feet were going. “W-woah!” he noticed he had reached the top and was falling now, having pressed his foot to air which had started the tumble. He gripped frantically to the edge of the large landscape and was able to get enough wind in his heels and strength left in his fingers to stop his falling... he had made it... he’ll be okay.

But that wasn’t enough.

He heard the metal bending and cranking, as though slowing the rising, treasured container of it’s load from coming up. The metal was beginning to tilt and loosened itself from it’s bolted railing and started to dip like a bending fish hook towards the flaming sea...

“No!!” Sonic leaped up and raced to the pole, “Amy!!!” He reached out and bent to grab the wall and the bending metal, using himself like a stretched chord to keep the metal from bending further, suspended between rock and the pole as he could feel the jolting of the chains continuing to crank up, but slower than before.

‘I have to straighten the poll out... or Amy will never make it!’ he was running out of juice and energy... but strength rose in him as he thought of her... He couldn’t let her down... he couldn’t let himself live knowing she was still in harm’s way...

He was mellowly delighted that she was accompanying him on this adventure. Though he never showed it, he enjoyed her hammering swings and ricocheting off robots to stop dramatically in front of her and strike a pose, knowing she loved it when he showed off. He couldn’t naturally give slight looks and charming flares to the dudes, it would be weird, but he enjoyed the moments he could when Amy was around.

True, sometimes, he felt he couldn’t fully be himself around Amy or she’d overly fawn after him... but even then... he could see and feel how much he meant to her.

He never felt the need to be more for her, even though he knew he probably should act a bit more gentlemanly here and there, which he did, but never overdid it to avoid getting exploited by Amy’s constant yearning for more attention from him.

He was never upset when she insisted to tag along with him for a journey or perilous undertaking. He just always knew he needed to keep an ear and eye out to make sure she was safe at all times... other than that? It was just fun to have her around, constantly praising him. Though... he didn’t like her ‘pampering’ behavior when she’d rub his hand too much if he punched a tough-made robot... he still didn’t mind the doting every now and then.

Clenching his abs, he finally scrunched his body enough to bend the pole somewhat back into a straighter line, causing the chain to move quickly with each thought he had for Amy and how he was determined to saving her life.

She had saved his... after all. If she had self-sacrificed herself... he would have... never... ever... forgiven himself such a lost.

Amy was almost about to collapse at the heated panel beneath her butt and feet, fearing the lava had caught up with her, until there was a jolt and she stopped fully. “S...Son...ic...” The chute opened and a sound like a swift wind brushed through her small compartment and gave her somewhat relief,... but not as much as cool hands that gripped her firmly at her sides and pulled her out.

When she came too, Tails and Knuckles were standing over her and Cream was attending her.

She remembered a similar scene with Cream... when she had almost drowned in the water when Eggman attacked back in Chris’s world... what... where was Sonic?

“I..” she could barely get a word out, and Cream kept dabbing the cool cloth on her head and adjusting the cooling pads under her back, on her sides, and over her stomach.

“Don’t worry, Miss Amy.” Cream spoke out, cheerily but with a worried and loving look in her eyes, but showing signs that Amy was going to be alright. Her little heart pattered quickly as she stopped a moment and reached back as though forgetting something, putting a flower by her side. “Mr. Sonic said to give you this when you woke up! He said you deserved to see some life after all the dull rock you were exposed too.”

And the pitch black of the heated tin chute... he must have felt awful about that being the only other way to get them out of there alive.

She had no idea about the pole that threatened to snap and dip her into slowly into a melted death... but as she got better, Tails told her Sonic had gone after Eggman, and she gathered that Sonic hadn’t told any of them the extent at what they had gone through.

‘He’s keeping up appearances... he doesn’t want to trouble or worry them more than he already has.’ she concluded, thinking that noble and brave... somewhat.

She wanted to tell them, so badly, about everything... but silently accepted Sonic’s assumed wishes.

She also didn’t want to worry anyone... but... Oh, she wanted to tell at least one soul about the encounter!!!

Sonic had... he had really... ohhh!!! Her heart was overjoyed!

But... when she came to see him...

As per-usual, he was up atop a windy place, looking over the nature he spent his whole life preserving and protecting... admiring it’s beauty and natural power.

With a kind and neutral smile on his face, he suddenly turned to see Amy walking happily up to greet him.

Seeing his gaze, she paused a moment and halted, putting her hands together and in front of her, trying to look feminine and delicate.

“Hello, Sonic.” she greeted, blushing as her eyes closed and she giggled to herself lightly.

“Amy,” he nodded to her, a true picture of boy coolness!

She squee’d, “When are you gonna act like how you really feel at seeing my cute face?” she cupped her cheeks and turned away as if ‘trying’ to be modest about it... but then blinked her eyes when Sonic responded in a way she wasn’t expecting.

“Huh? I am acting the way I always do, Amy.” He folded his arms, looking more... puzzled... than she thought he should have.

“But- ah.... uhh...Ohhh!!!” she did her signature whine and shook her once -delicate- hands in a fury of frustration down at her sides. “That’s not how you feel at all!” She contested, but he didn’t seem to want to fight as his smile slightly fell.

Her eyes came back to his neutral ones and looked somewhat pleading to return to a place they once were... or at least... had just gotten to. “Why are you being like this..? After everything we went through on that ridge...”

He just quietly stared at her, before lowering his head and closing his eyes, shaking it softly back and forth. “I think you were misguided, Amy. The heat had gotten to us and we... said things we didn’t actually mean to express.” he then looked up at the sky, as if trying to dismissive the topic further. “Of course I care about you, Amy,... But I can’t say it’s to the extent that you’re hoping for. To where I suddenly run into your arms, or something mushy like that... heheh.” he had a bead of awkwardness like a sweat drop slide down the side of his face as his mouth squirmed it’s lines to show how uncomfortable with this he all was.

Amy felt her heart chip away just like the pebbles of the rocky wall... as though she was trying to climb the wall he had pasted up again after only just placing it down back then...

“You’re... You’re not being fair...” she wanted to call him cruel, but she knew that was a lie. She wouldn’t lie... whether to herself or to him.

But this...

This hurt so much.

“What’s wrong with liking me?” she finally had the coolness of the earth to allow tears to peek out from her eyelids, but never fully emerge. Her body quivered in the cold, but she ignored it, too angry and hurt to care. “You can’t just press restart every time you show me how you feel, Sonic The Hedgehog!”

Her outburst caused a sharp bolt of lightning to split Sonic’s core in two. His heart ripped as though torn about how to follow something that dramatic and genuine up... He’d had hoped for the social norm again... but that seemed a bit too late.

He flinched back and then relaxed, scratching behind his head, “I guess you’re right, Amy... I’m not being very fair to your feelings... but you can’t blame me for being hesitant about my choices...”

She was sniffling, and he realized she probably didn’t have it in her to say more right now. Sighing, he walked down to her and smiled tenderly, kindly opening his arms to invite her to hug him.

“Let’s just say... I don’t really have a way with words.”

“They’re enough for me...” she hiccupped through her tears now pouring out. “You’ve always been enough for me. Every part of you, every inch and every word ever spoken and act ever done has been enough... when will you get that? When will you learn that whatever you choose to do for me... for my sake... knowing how hard it is for you to express that freely and openly like you did in that moment... it’s always been enough to shake me.” she fell to her legs, bawling now as Sonic awkwardly stood there and blinked, realizing she was going to break down.

“H-hang on, just a second, Amy!” he was shaking his hands out to get her to stop crying and calm down, but her tears and wailing didn’t cease, she was already emotionally compromised and it made him feel like a bigger jerk than ever before.

“Alright, enough already... I get it, Amy...” His face quite literally seemed to deflate on itself as he lost the energy and will to keep up the persona. “You heard what you heard, and I never said I wanted to take it back... just that I can’t always do that from now on. I didn’t want to lose you... that part is, and will always be, true.”

Amy took her hands away from her eyes to see the resounding truth that was on his face. “I... I don’t want-” she hiccupped, a cute and gross reminder that she had been holding all this in for some time now since Sonic’s first departure. “to lose you... hck, either...” she sniffed.

Chuckling at her appalling sense of self-preservation or even an idea of self-image in this moment, Sonic kindly wiped her eyes with his finger and looked to her as though slowly backing the wall up and away from her, but not fully putting it down yet. “I can’t promise I won’t lead you into dangerous times, Amy... but I can say that I will never leave you behind in those moments. Not ever.”

She pouted, “You shoved me in a dark chute.”

“T-To save your life!” he gestured out to her, his arms out either side of her and extended as though to plead his case, “You were right, Amy, I couldn’t have carried us both up, it was the only way!”

She continued to give him a hard look of judgement.

“You gotta believe me, honest! You knew it was the only way!”

“...It was still scary...”

“You survived!” his words almost smacked the idea as though fanning it away, but he never dared to say ‘quit complaining’ as he could tell she was just riling him up.

She smiled, unable to help it. She enjoyed seeing emotion out of him, even expressed in ways like this. She batted his chest, secretly snuggling into it, “You’re the worst, Sonic The Hedgehog! You make me cry and smile at the same time! No one does that...” she muttered the last part out, and it was almost cute... almost.

Sonic rolled his eyes, “Come on, give me a break, Amy...” It almost sounded like he was complaining, but it was to keep up with her playful antics. “Forgive me this one time?”

“I forgive you every time.” Amy mumbled into the side of his chest.

“...Forgive me for being a dunce?”

“I forgive you for that all the time too.” she continued to play, making sure her mouth’s movements and the vibration of her words could be felt in into his chest too.

There was silence...

“Forgive me for... this?” his hands suddenly caught her up and her lips were silenced for a time that for her--seemed to last eternity.

When his kiss parted he was gone with the wind, as though unable to stick around for the aftermath.

She was frozen in disbelief before shouting out in a type of ‘hoorah!’ for her success, but also...

Sonic did know the perfect timing for a romantic advance... he just didn’t always have the words or courage to say it~<3

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I know you, Harry Styles”

Summary: Your boss asks you to quarantine at his house to watch over the place and his dog. He then calls you let you know a friend of his has gotten stuck in Los Angeles and needs a place to stay, so he has offered his friend the home that you are also going to be staying at. His friend is Harry Styles. Harry and you get to know each other while you both navigate through this uncertain time. 

I’ve had this idea for awhile and im sorry if it’s a little late now, since strict quarantine has ended (lowkey might be coming back since california has been getting bad again), but still i really liked this and wanted to write it. Also look at how cute this sidelook from Harry is in this gif ^^ :) his nose is so slopey

It hasn’t been the easiest write so no worries if y’all hate it. I might do a part 2, but def no part 3 this time, unless it gets easier to write. 

Word Count: 4.5k | Warnings: mentions of quarantine and Coronavirus (pls take care if the situation is triggering to you), language, drinking 

Enjoy! (Feedback appreciated as always)

-

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided. 

“You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never.”

-

You were living in Los Angeles when the Coronavirus outbreak first arrived in the United States and California went into quarantine. You lived in a pretty small apartment in Silver Lake and you weren’t excited to be cooped in there, alone for at least the two weeks they had just announced. The governor issued that everything would be shut down by morning and you had to admit you were a little stressed. Just as you were about to walk into your apartment and lock the door, ready to shelter in, your boss and friend of yours called.

“Hey Y/N,” David said quickly over the phone, “You know how I’ve just left for England two days ago and I’m already here. Well, since I’m not a U.S. citizen, I can’t come back. Which is fine, but I was just wondering if you’d mind quarantining at my house and just watching over it? Until I can get back?”

You sighed, “Oh my god, David. I’m so sorry.” “The U.S. announced their border closure so strangely, I couldn’t have known...But it’s fine, really, I’m actually kind of happy to be home.” You nodded as if he could see you.

“So do you think you can do it? I’ve been having my neighbor check in on my dog, daily, but I’d prefer a friend to be at the house with him right now.”

“Oh! Yeah of course, I’ll pack a bag and head over right now. I’m honestly relieved you’ve given me this offer. You’re house is fucking huge and my apartment is tiny.” David chuckled at your slow response but happy tone.

You were right, David did have a nice house. His place was up in the Los Angeles Hills, a place he’d inherited from a wealthy grandparent. It was definitely going to be an upgrade for quarantine. David’s place would make it easier to be alone because of his cute little dog around, a swimming pool, a beautiful kitchen, literally anything you could have asked for.  You drove up the long driveway, to the rustic house, David refused to call a classic 70’s mansion as much as you insisted upon it.

“Guess it doesn’t matter what I call it now, huh.” You said to no one. You pulled out your spare key, David had given to you for emergencies when you had started working directly under him. You opened the door and stepped inside to the empty mansion. Checkers, David’s dog came running up to you, pawing your legs and howling his tiny voice at your arrival. You smiled, setting down your bags and grabbing Checkers from the ground. “Hi, baby!” You swung him around and he licked your face adoringly. You ruffled his fur and then placed him back on the ground, he wasn’t more than eleven pounds.

Then you went to find your bedroom. You heard your footsteps echoing throughout the empty house and it definitely felt weird. Being alone, in this big house. You wondered why you had to keep convincing yourself it was so great. Then your phone rang for the second time today. David again. You threw your bags at the foot of the guest bed and walked back through the house to the main room adjoined to the kitchen, near the front door.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Y/N, thanks for picking up! And thank you for agreeing to watch the house -”

“Yeah, of course, I’m just settling in.”

“That’s great! But, I hope you don’t mind, a friend of mine has similar luck to me. He was just supposed to be in Los Angeles for a couple days, but he’s gotten stranded there and has nowhere else to go. He’s a good friend of mine and the house is most definitely big enough for two…” He trailed off, slightly anxious to put you out, when you had already been generous enough to leave the comfort of your own place during this stressful time. “So, I told him he could stay at mine, if he didn’t mind living with a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger?” You asked, slightly confused from what David was saying.

“Yeah, yeah I mean, I told him you were a friend and that you worked with me, obviously.” You laughed with some relief, “Ok, I’ve got you. That’s fine, more than fine, he’s got nowhere to go, it’d be rude of me to say no to him joining me in this mansion,” You got a little excited and emphasized the mansion.

David groaned, but finished, “Well, great! Because I’m pretty sure he’s already on his way. Bye!” The line went dead.

You wouldn’t say you were unhappy that you were going to be sharing the house. The loneliness of the empty house had grown daunting the minute you heard your footsteps. But you realized David hadn’t even given you the name of the man you were going to be living with for supposedly the next two weeks. As well, what if you and the man didn’t get along and were at each other’s throats for two weeks.

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying not to make any presumptions. Then, you began to put away the groceries you had brought with you from your apartment and refilled Checkers’ water bowl.

Maybe twenty minutes after your phone call with David, informing you of your quarantine housemate, the doorbell rang and you jogged lazily to the foyer with the grand front door.

In front of you stood, a man with mop of dark brown hair on his head, some large green eyes, a nice outfit, and an array of tattoos peeking out from under different parts of his clothing. Wait- you thought - this isn’t some random tall, good-looking white guy. And then it dawned on you. David would be close friends with Harry Styles. This is so typical of that man. And for him to never tell you that before. That is especially David, trying to keep this guy all to himself.

“Hi, I’m David’s friend, he said he’d call ahead and let you know, I’m ‘Arry,” he rested one of his bags on the ground and reached out to shake your hand. You blinked your eyes, still a little surprised at who your roommate was going to be, but determined to be chill about it. You then reached out your hand to meet his. You took note of the largeness of his hands and how soft they were. His hand slid perfectly in yours and his eyes intensely gazed at you in the hallway.

“Yeah, he called, I’m Y/N.” You released his hand after realizing you still had hold of it, just a touch too long. You stepped aside to let Harry bring his things into the house. “Do you need any help with your bags?” You asked quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Harry turned to you as he had just stepped into the house and was exactly beside you, he quirked his head, “Oh no, I’m alright, no need to worry about me.”

“Okay,” you simply responded and walked back into the kitchen. You had left your phone in there and still had some things to organize, David didn’t keep his house as clean or organized as you liked it. You always set to work around his house whenever you came by, no matter his protests. Music was playing from your phone over the bluetooth speakers David had in the house, a mix of random songs for the month that you had compiled a couple weeks ago. It was a mix of your favorite artists: oldies and some newer stuff. You turned it up as you got to work.

Your music played loud enough that you didn’t hear Harry walk into the kitchen. “Hey,” he said. Startled, you flipped yourself to face him, discarding the box of cereal you were moving to be with the other cereals.

“What’s up?”

“I know we don’t know each other,” Harry started. You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with this. “And I’m fine if you don’t want to really interact, but I was actually kind of excited to find out that I wasn’t going to have to be all alone in this house for two weeks.”

Your lips quirked up in about a half smile as a soft chuckle came out. You rested back on the countertop behind you, feeling more relaxed at the rest of Harry’s statement. Harry stared at your figure still taking in the stranger in front of him. You seemed fairly laid back and he liked the music he heard from the speakers, assuming it was your selection.

“Oh. Yeah,” you began, scratching your head, “I know, I was excited to not have to be in my apartment, but then when I got here I got lowkey scared of being here with just myself and Checkers.”

“Wait, Checkers is here?” Harry’s mood and tone immediately picked up, looking excitedly around for the little dog. “I think he’s outside,” you said, crossing to one of the many back doors. You called for David’s dog, you and Harry’s third roommate, and he came leaping through the door.

He ran to Harry and Harry knelt to grab the dog and pick him back up. He twirled Checkers around over his head and kept repeating “Who’s a good boy” before placing the dog on one of the couches. On the couch, Harry playfully flipped the dog on his back and scratched his belly. Checkers wiggled and opened his mouth trying to nip playfully at Harry. Harry in turn put his head right near Checkers’ and shook his own fluffy hair in the dog’s face. Checkers went wild, loving the attention he was receiving.

After a bit, Harry let Checkers go and stood up, you had been watching on amusedly, “God, I love this dog, so fucking cute,” he said. You were surprised Harry knew David well enough to know his dog, but you dismissed it. Then, you laughed and agreed with him.

“Well, do you want to get to know each other over dinner tonight?” Harry inquired as you walked back into the kitchen, still trying to finish your self-given task of cleaning it up. “Sure, why not?”

-

It was the dinner time you and Harry had agreed upon. You had showered and unpacked over the past few hours. Harry, from what you knew, had done the same. You two hadn’t talked much more since he had suggested the dinner. The guest room he had chosen was on the second floor, like yours, just down the hall. After checking the time on your phone, you left your room and went downstairs. You found Harry on the couch with Checkers, reading a book. You tapped his shoulder from behind the couch and he turned his head to look up at you. “We said 7, right?” He snapped his book shut after raising her brows, coming out of a reading trance. “Oh, yeah,” he responded, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen. You followed after him, “So what do you want to eat. I brought some groceries with me so we could cook something or there’s always take out.”

Harry opened the fridge, “Let’s make something, yeah?” He leaned back from the inside of the fridge and threw a smile to you over his shoulder. He was very confident and charismatic in person you had noticed just from the few odd moments you had spent with him already. You liked his music and felt like you should tell him you knew who he was, but you also liked the feeling you got that you were just two normal people living together for a little.

“Alright,” you began, walking to his side to look into the fridge as well, “Any requests, Harry?”

You looked up at his face, he was quite tall, taller than you had really thought. He was a really big figure up close, slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He simply demanded attention just with his presence, something strong emanating from him. You could see that strength in the lines of his jaw, lined in stubble, his green eyes set deeper in his head, the sinews in his neck. In every part of his body, there was strength, yet he spoke with a kindness about him. You were extremely interested in getting to know more about him, for this very reason. How could such a big, intimidating man in size and presence be known for being so kindhearted and in touch with himself and the world? What was his secret?

Harry simply began to remove various items from the fridge, placing them down on the island behind the two of you. He only said in response to your previous question, “Like Mexican?” You nodded and laughed, you’d grown up on Mexican food.

“I was thinking fajitas would be good, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely, how can I help?”

Harry grinned at your attitude, he could tell you were the really fun, easy-going type of person. He was glad you weren’t being weird with him, even if he was a stranger. He finished taking the ingredients from the fridge and then gave you instructions on what he needed help with. The two of you set to work, this time it was Harry’s music playing over the speakers.

-

You sat at the dining table in the next room over from the kitchen and seating area. Harry had told you to go ahead as he finished your plates of food. Moments later, he walked into the room holding the plates. “Ta-da!” He exclaimed while presenting the two plates of food, that looked admittedly, very tasty.

He had changed his outfit from earlier and you were just now noticing. Earlier, it had been a striped dress shirt that he had dressed down with rolled up sleeves and half of the buttons undone, revealing a nice string of pearls, with navy high waisted trousers that cinched at his slender waist. Now, he was in a simple purple knit sweater and brown corduroy flares, still wearing the pearls around his neck. Neither of you were wearing shoes, both wearing only socks. And while Harry might consider that to be a more casual outfit, you were in leggings and a hoodie with a sun on it that you had thrifted awhile ago.

He sat down across from you after placing one plate on the placemat in front of you. The dining table was huge, meant for dinner parties and entertaining, not a traveler and a young employee. You took a bite and hummed in appreciation, but then said, “Wait.”

Harry stopped eating and looked at you, concerned there was something wrong with his cooking. “Red wine,” you stated. Harry’s worried face grew into a grin. “Red wine,” he echoed in agreement and nodded his head. You hopped up from your seat and ran into the kitchen, looking for the cabinet David kept his wine in.

After finding a reasonable Malbec, a favorite red of yours, you grabbed an opener, two glasses, and went back into the dining room where the munching Harry awaited. He was happily chewing his food as he gazed at you as you placed the glasses between your plates, uncorked the bottle with ease, and grabbed the glasses once more to pour the wine.

Finally, you sat down and said, “To whatever the fuck we are about to get ourselves into.” Harry laughed and offered a “Salud” in response. The two of your glasses clinked and you both drank, afterwards setting off to eat your food.

As you ate, you began to talk. Harry started, “So, you work with David?” while taking his fork and stabbing at a cooked bell pepper slice. You finished chewing, “Ah, yeah, he’s my boss. But we work pretty closely, I’m kind of like a personal assistant, but I do more than just his scheduling and errands.” Harry nods.

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided. “You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never. I would’ve definitely just told you who I was if you didn’t know, but it’s nice to pretend for a little.” He grinned as he said the words, his elbow resting on the table with his wine glass in hand. You ate some more, letting his words linger in the air. It’s nice to pretend for a little.

“Well,” you finally said, “I won’t give you any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a guy staying at the same house as me. Doesn’t matter to me what you do to pay your bills.”

Harry liked that. You were very intriguing, the way you spoke to him. Especially now that he was sure that you knew about his music and celebrity. “You make it sound like I’m a sex worker or something naughty!” he said, feeling more comfortable with you with the more time that passed and the more wine he had.

“It’s kind of the same thing...providing a service - that your body is an essential part of providing it properly.” You stated smugly, looking over at Harry from behind the rim of your glass. “And there’s nothing wrong with sex workers,” you added.

“You’re right,” he stopped, wanting to continue the conversation, but confused how to move on from sex workers. “So what do you think of my music?”

“I thought you wanted to be treated like you weren’t a celebrity,” you countered.

“That’s out the window, c’mon,” he said, leaning forward.

“You just want me to boost your ego,” you smirked, liking the banter that was coming so easily between you two, “Like I said, I know you, Harry Styles.”

He scoffed at your teasing and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually annoyed, he was enjoying this. “Then you’re a fan, huh?” Not letting it go without you saying how you felt about his music.

“Fine,” you sang slightly, shifting in your seat. “Your music,” you paused again, enjoying Harry eager to hear your opinion and you being in control, “is better than a lot of other modern stuff considered good by today’s standards.”

“So you like it?” He said slowly. That was probably the most roundabout, vague compliment he had ever heard. He picked at his almost empty plate, still staring at you.

You tilted your head and placed it on your palm, looking to the sky as if you were thinking about his question hard. Finally, you shifted your head in your palm so you were looking at Harry wearily. Then you shut one eye and said, “I guess,” before shrugging your shoulders as if you didn’t care at all. Harry let a single blow of air out of his nose, like a short laugh, before standing and taking both of your plates. As he walked out of the room he whistled lowly, “You are such a tease, Y/N.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and you heard him cleaning up. You were about to call out to him and say how he didn’t have to do the cleaning since he did the majority of the cooking, but then your eyes fell to the half drunk bottle of wine. Normally, you’d re-cork it and drink the rest at a later date, but it was still early in the evening and you and Harry literally had nowhere to go. Also, the two of you hadn’t gotten past the work question of getting to know you. There was still a bit more to learn about each other and you were happy to continue to discuss over wine.

Harry reemerged from the kitchen and you held up the wine bottle to him and waved it, “We need to finish this.”

“Have I told you yet that I like the way you think?” Harry walked over and grabbed the bottle from your hand. He quickly poured both your glasses much fuller than the usual standard glass of wine. When you eyed him curiously about the heavy pour, he only shrugged practically saying it’s just us drinking it who cares if we fill up our glasses extra full.

“No you haven’t, but I like the way I think too! I’m very smart you know,” you said with some play in your voice as you walked through a doorway that led to the sitting room. Harry trailed behind, bringing the now less than full bottle with him. You both sat yourselves on the couch, a fair amount of space between the two of you, not too close, but not too far apart either.

You both took long gulps of the wine. You were starting to feel a little warm from it, but you enjoyed where the wine was taking your conversation so you weren’t planning on stopping. Harry’s big green eyes squinted slightly at you from behind his wine glass, similar to how you had done earlier. He lowered it and licked his lips. There was definite tension between the two of you right now. Maybe you both had realized the implications of being alone with a stranger for two weeks with no interruptions and no distractions. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating because all you wanted to do was keep teasing Harry and have him keep baiting you.

Harry asked a question suddenly, breaking the silent staring that had been going on. And the tension was broken the two of you continuing your getting to know you for the rest of the night. By eleven, the bottle was empty and forgotten on the coffee table and you and Harry had scooted closer. You had similar likes and dislikes when it came to music. You talked about fashion and what it was like to get to wear top designers all the time - Harry being the wearer, not you sadly. You asked him what it was like to tour and he asked you more about your job and living in Los Angeles, how it was to not walk around the place and be bombarded with people. Then, you circled back to travel.

“I’ve been lucky enough to travel a lot in my life, too. I traveled with my family as a kid and I made sure my job would have me traveling around, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry took the last sip of his wine and set the glass down, readjusting himself to lean on his arm on the couch, looking at you.

“Was supposed to be with David in England, actually, but I got held up and was going to join him next week,” you mused, finishing your wine as well and leaning your body so your back was fully against the back cushion.

“No way, I was supposed to leave next week, too. Who knows, maybe we would have been on the same plane and crossed paths like that without even knowing,” Harry said excitedly.

You rolled your head to the right and looked at his face, how it had lit up at that unlikely prospect. “You probably wouldn’t have known, but I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell, probably have a whole crowd of fans there waiting for you, end up having to delay the plane for ya’. And I’d be sitting there like ‘which famous prick is holding us up?”

“Oi!” he swatted at your leg closest to him, “Has anyone told you you’re a bit mean.”

You raised your brows at his physical contact and his words. You shifted to your side again and slid your legs beneath you, looking directly at Harry. “Yes,” you said seriously.

Harry laughed at that. At least you were honest, and you were funny, too. You joined his laughter, it felt contagious, the way his voice was so loud, but so jovial. His eyes managed to twinkle even as he squinted, his smile taking over his entire face.

Without either of you noticing, the two of you had shifted extremely close to one another. You finally realized because you felt Harry’s breath fanning over your face. His breath smelled of Malbec, but his over scent mixed with it and turned it into something enticing. You wanted to lean in more, but the only place further to go was his lips.

Harry’s eyes flickered to meet yours, confused yet delighted about the situation he had somehow gotten himself in. The two of you breathing in each other, chests heaving from laughter, hearts beating from wine, and bodies ready to ignite the minute they touched. You remained there for a few moments more, basking in his glow.

And then you whispered, “I should go to bed.” You pulled away and retreated upstairs to your room. Harry was left there, sitting stunned at the whole situation. How had that happened? And what had you just stopped from happening?  You were thinking the very same things as you sat down on your bed and calmed your breathing.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

-

Part 2

taglist: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, 

[ushidoux]

Lesson - Atsumu x Reader

Summary: You drop Atsumu for bad behavior and he’s struggling to understand. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: super toxic Atsumu, toxic relationships, fem!reader, references to sex

A/N: literally don’t date a dude like this i’m not promoting anything lmfao. also it’s just bad feeling in this fic, no one gets gravely injured.

Song: S**c*dal by YNW Melly

---

I thought that we were meant to be

You took my heart and made it bleed

I gave you all my ecstasy

I know you'll be the death of me

One ring, two rings, three rings, four. No response. 

In the pitch dark of his bedroom, his face incompletely illuminated by the light of his cell phone, Atsumu Miya sends his fifth text of the night. 

Pick up, please.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings. Again, no response.

Atsumu feels his chest tighten, and his face flushes even redder than before, but he’s not yet angry. He’s still desperate to hear your voice. He sends yet another text.

I’m sorry, I’ll change... I’ll do anything you want. Just please just pick up the phone.

He gives you time to respond. That’s what you’ve always asked from him, right? Time, in terms of attention, in terms of patience, in terms of advancing the relationship in a direction that you thought was fruitful.

He hated so much that you always wanted to set the pace. Whether it was when to become exclusive, when to start having sex regularly, when to meet the losers you called your friends, when to meet your parents. You wanted to control everything, and even that you had essentially cut him out of your life, you were again controlling his reactions.

Why else would he still be up at 4am, trying so hard to get your attention? All his better logic told him you were asleep, maybe even asleep in that piece of shit’s arms, but multiple shots of Hennessey told him it was right to text and call and beg. After all, you had said once that you’d be by his side no matter what. 

So why was he alone in this bed?

Ten minutes pass and he calls again.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings, six. No response.

I know it’s late, but I need you, he texts, and then he calls again.

One ring and the phone abruptly cuts off, and Atsumu’s bottled up emotions explode.

“Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available -”

“Fuck, ___! Ya stupid fucking bitch, you.. You always wanted me to care for you so here I am caring, why the fuck would you do this to me, why the fuck… are you serious? Why…,” his slightly slurring voice loses steam and trails off instead as tears start to well up in his tired eyes.

“Why would ya give up on me now?”

Left lipstick on my Hennessy

Felt like you took my soul from me

You gave me all your ecstasy

I thought that we were meant to be

Atsumu was always confident and having your unconditional love and support despite the way he treated you only served to supplant that arrogance. You’d never leave him, you always grinned and bore anything he threw at you.

“Shut the fuck up at my matches.”

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the team.”

“I’m not interested, ask somebody else.”

“Find something better to do than follow me around, you’re so needy.”

He barely looked at you when his words were harsh, so he couldn’t see your smiles towards him deepen into frowns every time he spoke to you without respect until eventually all that remained was contempt when you looked in his direction.

But would he have realized then? Maybe your own regard would have simply fallen in line with the way others saw him. He didn’t care what others thought. He was sure he didn’t care what you thought. Until now. 

Baby, you took control of me

And I got too many enemies

I knew you wanted to fuck him 'cause I could just tell

Check my back, now I'm, now I'm in my bag, yeah

You did me bad, you did me bad

But I said, "Fuck it," and I ran up my bag, yeah

Atsumu never hung up the phone as he blew up, despite holding back warm tears that clouded his vision even more so than the pitch blackness of the room.

“Fucking whore, I bet you’re at his place now, you stupid, stupid slut!” He yelled into the phone.

But you’d never cheated. You’d just quietly asked him to treat you better or you would leave him, and he had simply laughed.

“Do you think you can find better?” He had asked, and your stomach had turned at the cruel way his smile upturned as he stepped closer to you, towering you with his height and gripping your face with two fingers. “You may be pretty, little piggy, but there’s not much better than me, silly.”

“I-I don’t want to leave you… I just want you to be a little less mean.”

“A little less mean, or a little less me?” He teased before planting a kiss on your trembling mouth, biting your lower lip just slightly as he parted.

“‘Sumu please…,” you insisted, flustered that he still made you hot despite how much you realized he was objectively awful to you.

“Why should I be nicer to you when you’re desperate for my cock anyway?”

So sure that you would never take your eyes off of him as he perfected his tosses game after game, he didn’t notice you slip away. He didn’t notice the increased time you spent out with friends distancing yourself from him or that the way your face now lit up when you received texts from heaven-knows-who.

Why would he have to? You would always be by his side no matter what.

But you didn't even put it all on the line

For me, no, oh, I'm sorry

This is the end of us

It's crazy 'cause my heart is dangerous

“Let’s break up.”

He laughed when you said those words right on the phone, right when he was on his way to meet you.

You? Breaking up with him?

“Yer so funny, ___. Anyway, I had a rough day babe, so you already know what I need.”

“I’m serious, Atsumu. Don’t come here… I-I won’t open the door.”

Your resolve had been shaky, but you were firm. So firm in fact that he found himself standing in front of the door banging as hard as he could for your attention, as you remained inside, using loud headphones to block out the racket as well as the expletives now filling the hallway. You considered for a moment calling the police, but you knew it would kill a man as proud as Atsumu to be escorted out by authorities on your behalf. 

Again, for his sake and for the last time, you endured it.

Felt like you took my soul from me

Like the devil got a hold on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

“She’s a stupid fucking slut, I should have known from the start, can’t trust these bitches no matter what they tell you,” Atsumu grumbled, seated at his brother’s restaurant, now that he had taken a moment to stop roasting the quality of the free onigiri his brother had offered him and had enough time to be vulnerable.

Osamu’s droopy eyes, not unlike his furious brother in front of him, looked almost exasperated.

“I mean, you’re sort of a douche,” he finally replied flatly.

“And?”

Osamu would have added something else if not for the fact that Atsumu had started choking on the food he was wolfing down with reckless abandon. While Osamu said nothing further, he made a mental note to expect Atsumu way more often and to check in. It was painfully evident that his twin was way more hurt than he let on. 

It was only after he got drunk enough that he finally admitted,

“I wish I had listened to her.”

You taught a lesson to me that I had to learn

And I'm so sorry 'cause you let our bridges burn

I said I loved you and I wish I never did

I swear to God, I swear to God, you stupid bitch

“I fucking hate you, ya know that? I hate you so fucking much. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...”

His voice warbles from alcohol and now he’s repeating that phrase over and over again; the message seems to go on for forever, but you listen to every word. The fact of the matter is that you miss him, and you wish you didn’t. You know he needs you but you need him to be better. 

So you continue to listen, not because you want to hear him suffer and not because you want to be with him anymore - at least not right now, anyway - but because you need closure. Evidence. Reassurance that he was really not ready to love you.

He curses you for leaving him for what feels like forever, but then nothing more is said and you’re sure he’s fallen asleep, but his last words haunt you:

“I loved you so fucking much.”

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, MINORS BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 15/16 (all chapters)

UA’s press conference aired two days after the incident, a deceptively simple move in the grander scheme of things. Their status as a household name and initial hesitation to comment on the incident had captivated the country. By the time the conference began, everyone had grown morbidly curious. Reporters chomped at the bit for answers; the general public watched with bated breath.

Hizashi glowered into his beer at the izakaya, stomach churning as the other patrons watched in suspense.

Nemuri sat down in front of her TV, ready to bury her face in the pillow she held to her chest.

Shigaraki and the League of Villains watched with expressions of glee, glancing across at Bakugo every so often in the hopes of catching the exact moment he lost faith in hero society.

Jirou, Hagakure and the other students yet to recover from the forest attack watched from their hospital beds.

Midoriya, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Iida and Todoroki watched from Kamino ward, hands trembling at the grim reminder that they shouldn’t have been there.

Your mother watched from the couch in your childhood home, alternating between sewing and shooting disapproving glances at the television, all while your father bellowed into his cell phone, demanding to know the name of the person that had allowed Moonfish to escape. In an oddly fortuitous turn of events, UA had escaped his ire. He had been personally involved in Moonfish’s conviction and took your injuries as a slight on his honour. It had never occurred to him to blame UA.

The world watched as Aizawa, Nezu and Vlad stepped out onto center stage, a fact that was not at all lost on them. Vlad gave his tie a forceful tug before stepping out into public view. Shouta took a deep breath and followed.

He had taken a crash course in interview techniques the night before, though if anything Hizashi’s coaching methods made him even more nervous. Hizashi was used to taking interviews, a consequence of years as a public entertainer. Eraserhead was rarely seen in public, much less interviewed by the press.

As Shouta, Vlad and Nezu bowed in apology, your eyelids twitched. You opened one eye by a sliver and then the other, taking in the darkness around you. You were still woozy from surgery and multiple rounds of treatment from Recovery Girl, every inch of your body feeling like lead. You didn’t remember who you were, much less where you were, and your initial inspection of your surroundings gleaned little in the way of answers.

The last thing you saw before closing your eyes again, overwhelmed by exhaustion, was the punnet of peaches at the foot of your bed- a flash of colour in the otherwise monochromatic room.

You slept for two days after that, fingers and eyelids occasionally twitching. The doctors were hopeful that you would wake up soon, though the news of any potential recovery on your part was swiftly drowned out by the chaos in Kamino ward.

The age of All Might was over and all of hero society needed to adapt. UA needed a plan now more than ever.

You were moved to Musutafu’s city hospital three days after the incident, Recovery Girl insisting that you were well enough to make the trip and it would be more convenient to have you closer to home. You slept through most of this process, briefly opening your eyes and staring at the strip lights above your head as they wheeled you through the hospital corridors.

You woke up fully coherent the following morning, eyes burning as they opened. Your body didn’t feel as heavy as it had before, but it ached instead, as stiff and sore as if you had run a marathon at full speed.

You sat up and immediately regretted it, for your side throbbed and left you flinching. You stroked a hand over the spot, remembering the last few moments before you had lost consciousness. You remembered the blade cutting through you; remembered the tightness in your body and stench of blood. When you lifted your pyjama shirt, though, there was no wound, only a ghostly patch of raised skin.

You wondered how long you had been asleep and scanned the room for any sort of hint, heart fluttering at the realisation that you weren’t alone. Someone was sitting in the chair next to your bed, face obscured from view by a textbook and snoring softly.

From the clothes and book title, you were able to make an educated guess who lay beneath. You only knew one person who taught English grammar.

“Hizashi,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his arm. “Hizashi.”

You tapped his elbow and he shifted in place, perhaps thinking your touches were part of his dream.

“Hey...Hizashi.”

“Hmmm?”

You eased the textbook off his face and put it down on the bed, watching as he began to stir.

“You’ll get a crick in your neck if you sleep like that,” you said, poking his arm.

“Sorry, (Name),” he said sleepily, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, only to freeze in place and realise what he’d said.

He jerked up straight and shoved on his glasses, hands trembling so much that it took several attempts to actually get them on, much less see you properly.

“You’re real, right? I’m not dreaming,” he said, sitting down on the bed next to you and throwing both arms around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head.

“If it is a dream, it’s pretty meta,” you said, reaching up to touch the arm closest to your collarbone and looking up into his face, gaining a faceful of scratchy, tearful kisses in response.

You remembered dialling Hizashi’s voicemail; the way you had cursed every time you reached his automated message.

You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again, but there he was, holding onto you and kissing your cheeks. You closed your eyes, absorbing his warm body and familiar scent, tears running down your own face before you realised what was happening.

“Hey, (Name),” he said, loosening his grip on you and stroking his fingers through your hair, “are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“I’m just so happy,” you sniffled, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer,” he said, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

You sat in silence for a while, overwhelmed with emotion and enjoying the moment. You rested your head against Hizashi’s chest, afraid that he’d disappear into smoke if you let go.

Unfortunately, the more you relaxed and focussed on his heartbeat, the more memories of that night came flooding back. You remembered stumbling through the woods, remembered why you had dialled his number in the first place.

You couldn’t breathe, your heart raced, memories of USJ creatures and men with patchwork faces dominating your every thought.

You knew you were having a panic attack; you knew dozens of techniques to get through them. Even so, it had been such a long time since you had had one and it crept up on you with so little warning that you were powerless to do anything. All you could do was grip onto Hizashi for dear life, hands growing sweaty and chest rattling with shallow breaths.

Hizashi picked up on your struggle relatively quickly and stroked a hand over your back, gently prising you off him and slipping one of his bracelets off his wrist.

“Here we go,” he said, slipping it onto yours, “slow and steady, focus on my voice.”

You reached for the bracelet and snapped the elastic against your exposed skin, relishing the sharp shock that rippled through your body and eased you back to earth.

“Just like that,” said Hizashi, stroking your hair, “nice and easy.”

You took a deep breath and rubbed your temples, head clearing and tension slowly leaving your body.

“How long have I been out?”

“About a week.”

“A week ?”

From the heaviness of your body and severity of your wounds, you assumed it had been much, much longer.

“Did you get my message? The address? What-“

“One thing at a time, princess,” he laughed. “A lot happened while you were asleep.”

“Really?”

“Well, for a start, UA’s reputation has taken a nosedive. Almost all of the students at the camp were injured-“ he reached for your shoulders as you flinched at the news, “-they’re fine, don’t worry!”

“Ragdoll,” you whispered, remembering the way she had told you to run, “is she-“

Get out of here, (Name). Tell the others!

Hizashi’s grave expression was all you needed to know. You clapped a hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whispered, Hizashi letting go of your shoulders and holding you to his chest. “It wasn’t…”

“I know, sweetie, I know. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“No, I need to know,” you said, wiping your eyes. “Is she dead?”

You needed closure.

“No,” said Hizashi, “she and Bakugo were taken away by the League of Villains. Ragdoll lost her quirk, but Bakugo was rescued in time…in part because someone led us straight to their front door.”

“Poor Ragdoll,” you sniffed. “And Bakugo? Is he…”

“He’s going to be fine,” said Hizashi. “The League wanted to recruit him, but no such luck.”

You knew from conversations with Shouta exactly how volatile he could be. It was naive to think villains wouldn’t have noticed it too.

“Wait,” you said, “Shouta...”

Had he been caught up in the villain attack? Was he okay? You remembered dialling his number too.

Hizashi frowned, which only added fuel to the fire.

“Hiz...Hizashi? I-“

You willed him to tell you Shouta was fine, that he hadn’t thrown himself into danger. You knew him too well to believe that, though. You remembered how angry you had been with him after the events of USJ; how quickly he had thrown himself into the line of fire to protect his students.

Your throat tightened and you snapped the bracelet against the inside of your wrist.

“He’s fine,” said Hizashi. “Came out of it with nothin’ but bruises. Thing is, though…because of everything that’s happened in the last few months...a lot of people have lost faith in UA. We’ve grown negligent, taken peace for granted…”

“What are you saying?”

“Something happened the night they rescued Bakugo,” he said. “All Might’s power. It’s gone.”

“ Gone ?”

“I don’t know all of the details,” he said, “only that he can’t use his quirk to fight anymore. He’s going to retire soon. Without him, though…”

You shuddered, knowing exactly where this was going. All Might had maintained Japan’s low crime rate for decades. His departure from the hero ranks would almost certainly create a power vacuum on both sides.

“What does that have to do with Shouta?”

“Well, as I said, UA’s reputation has well and truly tanked,” said Hizashi. “Sho, Nezu, Vlad and All Might are going to visit the students today...try and persuade their parents to let them come back.”

You tried to absorb the news, habitually snapping the bracelet on your wrist to keep you grounded.

“Is he...okay?”

Shouta would blame himself for this. You knew that much without having to ask and Hizashi chuckled under his breath.

“As good as anyone can be when their lady’s in the ICU.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that. You remembered plotting with the Pussycats, the strategy they had put in place so the two of you could talk alone.

You’d never mentioned your feelings for Shouta to Hizashi. You’d never told him the pair of you had slept together. Before leaving for summer camp, you didn’t think you had never given him any reason to suspect you might have been Shouta’s ‘lady’.

Of course, the more you thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. You remembered calling him ‘Shouta’ in conversation without realising; remembered probing Hizashi for his address. Hizashi wasn’t an idiot and knew Shouta better than you ever would. It was naive to think he wouldn’t have noticed something was off about the two of you.

“You knew about that, huh?”

“You kiddin’? I don’t get how anyone could meet you and not fall in love with you.”

His words were so sincere that you giggled.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Did you know you have your own background music? What’s it like having cherubs sing behind you every time you take a step?”

“Stop it,” you said, face flushing red, “you’re making me blush!!”

“Good,” he said, kissing your forehead.

“Say, Hizashi.”

“Mm?”

“Don’t call me Shouta’s lady like I can’t be yours as well.”

There was no point dancing around the point now. You were well past the stage of breaking it to him gently.

For a second, you wondered if you’d made a mistake. He sat incredibly still, breath warm against your forehead. Slowly, he lowered his face, touching his forehead to yours as he caught your lips.

“Hizashi,” you murmured into his open mouth as he broke the contact.

“Sssh,” he said, cupping your face and moving in to kiss you again, “the cherubs brought out tiny violins.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“Adds to the appeal, don’t ya think?”

You looped your arms around his neck to draw him in deeper and lowered yourself down onto the bed. He crushed his lips against yours, every kiss sending ripples through your core.

It felt so good that you forgot you were in a hospital and why you were there. In that moment there was only you, Hizashi and months of lost time.

Hizashi slipped a hand under your pyjama shirt, lifting the fabric higher to expose your scar. He broke away from you and sat up a little to get a good look at it, pouting as you instantly dragged your shirt back down.

“I guess my two piece days are over,” you said, blushing bright red in an attempt to deflect your embarrassment.

You had exactly two scars on your entire body and both were from Moonfish, each as ugly as the other. Hizashi linked his fingers through yours and guided your hand away from your shirt.

“I was just thinking,” he said, exposing your scar, “it makes me kinda nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic? For w-“

You caught his meaning too late, remembering the night you’d slept together. You remembered the moment he dragged off the condom and came across your middle, covering you in spots as ghostly white as the raised skin.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Am I wrong?”

He prised your hands away from your face, grinning widely. He wasn’t wrong and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“(Name), look at me.”

Against your better judgement, you looked up at him, only for him to lean over and steal a kiss.

“Am I wrong?” he murmured, face inches from yours.

You looked up into his face, slipping a hand out of his and tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

“No.”

You looked into each other’s faces for a while, enjoying the warmth and one another’s presence. You had had so much to say, but the events at the lodge had given you a new perspective. It didn’t matter to you anymore if you said it out loud. Actions spoke far louder than an awkwardly planned confession ever would.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said at last.

“You sure?” said Hizashi, nuzzling his face against your hand. “You were really badly hurt, ya know? Couldn’t hurt to rest for a little longer.”

“No,” you said, motioning for him to get up. “I have work to do.”

You had been gone for a week and the world had fallen apart. The children needed you; your colleagues needed you. They were the future of hero society and had already suffered enough. You couldn’t fix the world or undo the night at the lodge, but at the very least you could give them pats to the head and a sympathetic ear.

~~~~~~

It took a lot of coaxing for the doctors to let you discharge yourself. They insisted that you still needed rest, to which you argued you needed fresh air. You pouted your way through their examinations and tests, insisting you had rested enough. Your wounds weren’t open anymore and you hadn’t been on a ventilator since arriving in Musutafu. You were wobbly on your feet, but you weren’t in danger and you weren’t alone.

“Be careful,” your doctor sighed as you handed over your discharge papers, “your injuries were severe and it’s important you don’t push yourself too much.”

“I’ll be okay,” you said, knowing that he couldn’t stop you even if he wanted to.

“Don’t worry, doc,” said Hizashi, lifting you up into his arms like a newly wedded wife. “I’ve got Recovery Girl on speed dial.”

You giggled as he carried you out of the hospital and into the car park, holding you gently so as not to aggravate your injured side.

“Do you really have Recovery Girl on speed dial?”

“Of course I do,” he said in mock offense, “though I called her so many times this week that I’m pretty sure she blocked me.”

“Wow, should I be jealous?”

Hizashi laughed, stopping in place to kiss you on the lips.

“ Are you jealous?”

“Just surprised,” you said. “I didn’t have Recovery Girl pegged as a cougar.”

The pair of you sniggered as you crossed the car park, arriving at a flashy car that could only belong to Hizashi. He set you down on your feet as he reached for his keys and opened the doors, easing you into the passenger side front seat as if you were made of glass.

“Comfortable?” he asked as he fastened his own seatbelt. “I have some cushions in the back if you want one.”

“You sleep there often?”

“Only when I’ve got company!”

The ride home was a short one, though you made sure to absorb every detail; the soft synthwave music playing through the car radio; the city’s afternoon glow; Hizashi’s hand slipping into yours whenever you hit traffic.

Hizashi pulled up outside of your house and went on ahead to unlock your front door before helping you inside. You lingered in the doorway, Hizashi a couple of steps behind you.

“You good, little listener?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath before crossing the threshold, “it’s just been a while, that’s all.”

Your home was exactly the same as when you’d left it, which shouldn’t have surprised you, yet did all the same. You hadn’t been there for so long that it smelled foreign. You normally didn’t smell the pot pourri or candles you had used to decorate the place, but suddenly they overpowered your senses.

You had left in a hurry, without much time to tidy up. Your breakfast dishes from that morning were still drying on the rack; your pyjamas lay abandoned in the laundry basket. You had left your laptop on the kitchen table, a pamphlet for Yamanashi next to it.

It was like a perfectly preserved time capsule and Hizashi wrapped an arm around your shoulder at your hesitation.

“We can go to my place if you’d like,” he said gently, “if it’s easier.”

“No,” you said, snapping the bracelet against your wrist and taking a few shaky steps towards the couch. “It’s fine.”

You sank down onto your couch, rummaging through your purse as Hizashi pottered around in the kitchen. At some point someone had switched off your phone and you turned it over in your hands, all too aware of how spotlessly clean it was. Someone had scrubbed away the bloody fingerprints, perhaps the same someone who had painted your nails. You spread out your fingers as you powered on your phone, taking note of how carefully it had been done.

Your phone came on at 13% battery, immediately bursting to life with messages, missed calls and voicemails.

You recalled the USJ incident, how overwhelmed you had felt back then when you had been in no danger at all and out of contact for only a few hours. This time you had a week’s worth of notifications to sort through. The groupchat you shared with your girlfriends had exploded; you had voicemails and missed calls from your brother, as well as a few from your mom. You had missed calls from Hizashi and Nemuri, though one name cropped up more than any other. Shouta seemed to have called you multiple times a day every day since the incident.

“Hey,” said Hizashi, sitting down next to you with a cup of steaming tea, “enough of that.”

He prised the phone out of your grip and set it down on the coffee table, slipping the tea into your hands instead.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, though for the tea or the intervention you weren’t quite sure.

~~~~

Several hours later, you sipped ice water at the izakaya, Hizashi peering out from your booth to the doors.

As a morale boost, he had invited the other teachers to the izakaya for drinks that evening. If the students refused to come back, they could drink away their woes. If they agreed, they could raise a toast to the new school year.

He hadn’t expected you to be awake, much less eager to join them, but you had looked so desperately lonely that he couldn’t refuse. What’s more, he didn’t want to leave you on your own. He never wanted to ever again.

You had gotten there early, long before any of the regulars, much less other teachers. Despite being the one to suggest getting wasted in the first place, Hizashi stuck to soda, not quite so desperate to let loose that he was willing to drive you home drunk.

He stole glances at you every so often, watching for any shiver or grimace of pain. It had seemed like a good idea to steal you away from the hospital at the time. Perhaps it was selfishness on his part, but he wanted to relive the moment of joy when you spoke his name. He could think of no better way to do so than by reuniting you with the other teachers, who needed the excitement now more than ever.

Now, though, he wondered if he’d done the right thing.

After you had finished up your tea, he’d sent you away for a nap. You had been reluctant to go, but he’d insisted, claiming you needed your strength for the partying that night. You’d pouted as he tucked you in, only to fall asleep again in minutes.

For the past few days, Hizashi and Nemuri had taken turns visiting your hospital bed. They both had lesson planning to do, though nothing they couldn’t do remotely. Shouta had visited a few times as well, though lesson planning and dealing with the fallout of Bakugo’s rescue took up almost all of his time.

Hizashi had continued to plot out his schedule while you slept, getting up every so often to poke his head through your bedroom door.

Even now he watched you like a hawk. He knew your movements were slower than usual, that your injured side burned with pain if you stretched too far. He had helped you bathe and dress ahead of the night at the izakaya, only too happy to rinse the smell of the hospital from your hair under the guise of being a pervert.

It was a useful facade, for whenever you caught him glancing in your direction, all he had to do was slip a hand onto your thigh and tell you you were pretty to deflect how concerned he still was and likely would be for the rest of your lives.

Nemuri was the first to arrive, massaging her shoulders as she stood at the bar. She glanced around the room to see who else had arrived and waved at Hizashi, unable to see you because of the angle of the booth.

She cursed as she arrived at the table, beers under her arm as well as a portion of garlic fries.

“Wake me up when the-” she grumbled as she arrived at the booth, freezing in place when she saw you sitting there.

“Hi,” you said, to which she let out a shriek of joy and threw herself into the seat beside you.

“It’s you!” she cried out, trapping you in a tight hug that she swiftly reconsidered. “It’s really you!”

“Yep,” you said as she pressed your head against her chest and carded her fingers through your hair, “it’s really me.”

“How did you... when did you?!”

She glanced from you to Hizashi, suspicion and joy playing out across her face. You had been fast asleep the last time she visited you, fingers occasionally twitching.

“This morning,” said Hizashi, leaning back against the walls of the booth and sipping his soda.

He’d considered texting her with the news, but you had been sleeping at the time and he knew she’d come right over. He’d considered texting Shouta too but decided against it. It would come across as incredibly unprofessional if a text came through while he was speaking to a concerned parent, after all. In the end, for better or worse, selfish or otherwise, he’d left it as a surprise.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “Pinch me.”

You pinched her arm and she cupped your face, swiftly squishing you against her again.

“I’m coming to stay with you for the next few days,” she said, “we can watch movies, I can do the cooking-”

“Nemuri, she just got out of the hospital.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, glowering at Hizashi and stroking your hair. “(Name), just ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Hizashi protested the point, though you barely paid attention, catching only the occasional word here and there. Nemuri combed her fingers through your hair, defending both her honour and cooking skills.

“Honestly,” she said at last, reaching up to touch her own cheek. “I should go and fix my makeup. (Name), you come too!”

Neither you nor Hizashi commented on the fact that her makeup was fine and you weren’t wearing any.

~~~~

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

Nemuri paused, eyeliner pen in hand.

“Whatever do you mean?”

She had lifted you up onto the counter to get a better angle, silently painting away the dark circles under your eyes and returning the colour to your cheeks.

You spread out your fingers, flashing your scarlet fingernails.

“Guilty as charged,” she said. “It was the least I could do, considering…”

You remembered the last conversation you had had with her, right before you had rushed out of the door to meet Shouta and take on her duties as chaperone. She had sounded so upset over the phone; you had gone without a second thought.

“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” you said, tilting your head as she applied the eyeliner. “No one could have.”

“(Name),” she said, swallowing loudly, “the truth is...there was never anything wrong with me. I sent you there because...Hizashi and I wanted you and Aizawa to talk.”

“Huh?”

You had wanted to get Shouta alone, of course, but hadn’t thought of the trip to the lodge as anything more than a lucky break.

Not for the first time that day, you realised exactly how naive you had been. How many conflicts had passed by without your notice? How many sacrifices?

Shouta had pushed you towards Hizashi, Hizashi had pushed you towards Shouta. Both wanted the other to be happy, both wanted the best for all involved.

You laughed, you couldn’t help it. Every moment of hesitation; every second thought; it had always been part of something much bigger. You had always been part of a far more intricate sequence of events and now it was unravelling before your eyes.

You laughed so hard that your eyes blurred with tears, Nemuri joining in soon after.

“I’m such an idiot,” you said. “We’re all such idiots.”

Nemuri laughed with you, doubling over and smudging your makeup in the process.

“It’s really been that simple the whole time,” you spluttered, “ all this time .”

You laughed until your side hurt and you sucked in a deep breath, touching your hand to the spot as Nemuri ran a makeup wipe over your smudged eyeliner.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Speak to Aizawa at the lodge.”

“Oh,” you said. “No. The attack happened before…”

Nemuri tossed aside the wipe and folded her arms with a smirk.

“Seems to me that you three have a lot to talk about,” she said, glancing from you to the makeup bag. “I need to rethink this...I need to rethink all of this .”

She reached for different eyeshadows and fresh brushes, ready to paint you in different colours.

“You listen to me, kitten,” she said, reaching for lipstick, “if they mess around with you like this again…” she ran her thumb over your bottom lip, “you come to me.”

Her thumb was warm against your lip, gentle enough to tickle but hard enough to bring heat to your cheeks.

Was she...

Surely she wasn’t...

Surely she didn't…

Your eyes darted from her slender fingers to the bright red polish coating her nails; the same shade she had used to paint your own. She smelled intoxicatingly sweet, like the fancy soap stores you often passed in Roppongi, the ones that left their doors wide open to lure in passers by with exotic fragrances.

Right then you felt just as curious; imagination wandering to paths never taken and decisions never made. A different lover in a different bathroom...maybe even this one.

“O-okay.”

~~~~~

Night had fallen by the time Shouta arrived at the izakaya, loosening off his tie with a grunt. He hadn’t bothered to hide the fact that he didn’t want to go. He could think of a dozen or more things he’d rather be doing. He had lesson planning to do, streets to patrol and that was without mention of stopping by the hospital. Your transfer to Musutafu made things a lot more convenient in theory, though his schedule had been so unforgiving that he still hadn’t been able to visit as much as he wanted to.

He walked towards the bar, ready to order something fruity and deceptively strong. For a moment at least, he wanted to distract himself from the chaos of the past few weeks.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, stepping out from a booth and draping an arm across his shoulders. “You made it!”

“Looks that way,” he said, eyes immediately darting around the room.

It had been a few days since they’d slept together and, in truth, he was still waiting for it to feel wrong. Hizashi had never been a stranger to putting an arm around his shoulders or reaching for his arm, but there was something different about his touches now. Shouta half expected everyone in the izakaya to stop what they were doing and stare in disgust, yet they carried on as if nothing had happened. Snipe and Nemuri faced off against each other on one of the arcade machines while Cementoss and Vlad played pool. Thirteen was sitting in a nearby booth with Ectoplasm, engrossed in a game of poker. All Might and Nezu discussed the day’s events, drinks long forgotten.

Shouta wasn’t used to public displays of affection. He wasn’t used to dating or letting down his guard. He had brushed off any of Hizashi’s attempts to hold hands, had been deliberately non-committal in arranging dates, and all because it felt like a betrayal. He wasn’t ashamed of being with another man, didn’t care that said man happened to be Hizashi. He did, however, care a good deal about doing either of those things without your blessing.

He didn’t want to commit to another person without hearing what it was you’d had to say that day at the lodge. He had told himself that you were better off not knowing how far you had gotten under his skin, but he didn’t believe himself anymore. He wanted the first thing you heard from him to be a prayer: a prayer that you wouldn’t leave him again; a prayer that you would forgive him for every time he had pushed you away and been upset when you didn’t follow.

Hizashi, who not only knew him better than he knew himself but had found himself in a similar predicament, didn’t push. Shouta told himself he would thank him for it when all of this was over.

“Listen,” said Hizashi, expression grave as he flagged down the bartender, “don’t freak out, okay?”

“Freak out? About what?”

“Hmmm...well…”

“You can’t just tell me not to freak out without context.”

“Uhhhh...well...the thing is…(Name) woke up earlier on today.”

Shouta’s eyes widened. He was glad he hadn’t yet ordered a drink, for he was certain it would have shattered on the floor.

“I have to go,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “I need to-”

He moved to leave, only to look back in surprise as Hizashi took hold of his arm.

“What are you doing? Let me go.”

Before this, Hizashi had encouraged him to go and see you. Why was he stopping him now?

“She discharged herself,” he said. “You won’t find her there.”

“She what ,” said Shouta, pulling his arm away. “That idiot , what was she thinking?”

“Wait,” said Hizashi, grabbing his arm again, “where are you going now?”

“Where do you think? I’m going to her house,” he said. “What if she tries to cook something and passes out by the oven? What if she tries to take a bath and dr-”

“Sho,” said Hizashi, looking more than a little bit offended, “you won’t find her there either.”

Shouta blinked, contemplating where else you might have gone. Had you gone to your parents’ house? No, he knew for a fact that it was unlikely. He paid close attention to just about everything you said and you hadn’t exactly made a secret of how little contact you had with your immediate family.

Had Hizashi set you up at his place? Had Nemuri taken you to hers?

Where were you?

He needed to talk to you, needed to wipe the last memory of you from his imagination. He didn’t want to speak your name and immediately think of you pinned to a tree. He didn’t want to remember your voice as a croak of despair.

Hizashi chewed at his bottom lip and Shouta’s imagination ran wild.

Was this his weird way of telling him you’d died?

“She’s over there,” said Hizashi at last, nodding his head towards All Might’s booth.

Shouta’s blood ran cold.

No way.

No fucking way.

He had wanted to speak to you so badly for so long. He’d wanted to see you up and about on your feet, back at UA as if nothing had happened. Now that you were there, though, in the same room and surrounded by other teachers, he didn’t trust himself to look at you. What if he fell to pieces like he had on that night at the lodge?

“You okay?” said Hizashi, prodding at his arm.

“I’m fine,” he said with a sigh. “Just...”

He wasn’t prepared to be vulnerable in plain sight. He didn’t know how he’d react when he saw you.

“Okay,” said Hizashi. “Hear me out…”

~~~~~

The past week had passed by you in a second, yet it felt like you hadn’t seen your colleagues in years and apparently the feeling was mutual. You found yourself on the receiving end of more hugs than you could count, more pats to the head in half an hour than you had received in the past twenty years.

That was without mention of your ever expanding collection of ice water. Everyone wanted to buy you a drink and you knew for a fact you couldn’t drink them all.

You ran your fingers through the condensation on your nearest glass as All Might and Nezu discussed the home visits, eyes darting to the izakaya doors every time they opened.

You had expected Shouta to arrive with All Might and struggled to contain your disappointment when that wasn’t the case. The more time passed, the more nervous you became. Part of you hated the idea of the first years’ hard work and training going to waste, but you didn’t know what you would do in their parents’ position. If your child went through the same experiences as 1-A and B, would you allow them to go back? Would your need to protect them overpower your need to see them happy?

You were biased and you knew it.

It was almost a relief when Hizashi came back to the booth and reached out an arm.

“C’mon, Little Listener,” he said, guiding you out of the booth and onto your feet, “let’s stretch those legs and greet your adoring public!”

You linked your arm through his and used his weight to steady your own, grateful for the prospect of leaving the booth even temporarily. You had been sitting there for so long that you were pretty sure it had remolded your butt.

“This way,” said Hizashi, leading you past the arcade machine and jukebox, through a side door that led outside to the back of the izakaya.

You took a gulp of fresh air, relishing the coolness against your skin.

“You okay, sweetness?”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s good to see everyone again.”

He laughed softly, patting his hand over the one you had linked through his.

“ Almost everyone,” he said, pointing out a shadowy figure further along the street. You followed his gaze, eyes blurring with tears.

You would have known that silhouette anywhere.

You had wanted to see Shouta for so long; had wanted to speak to him for longer. There he was, right in front of you, and none of it seemed real.

He looked good , dressed up in a suit, though plainly tired of it, for he had taken off his tie and unfastened his top two buttons, leaving his collarbones on full display. You realised this was the first time you’d seen him with his hair up since Ego and, in all honesty, you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle.

“I’ll leave you to it,” said Hizashi, clapping his hands together and stepping back into the izakaya, leaving the pair of you completely alone.

You stared at Shouta; he stared at you, neither of you quite believing this was happening.

“I,” you said at last, “the thing is…”

You never got to finish your sentence, for Shouta moved, stepping closer and resting his head on your shoulder. For a moment, you were sure your heart stopped.

“Forgive me,” he murmured into your neck, voice rumbling against your skin. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You considered asking him what it was he wanted forgiveness for, though decided against it. He’d spent the entire day apologising for events out of his control and this wasn’t the time to dwell on them even more.

You reached up to cradle his body, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other combing through his hair.

“Okay,” you whispered back, saying nothing of the wetness against your neck from tears that were not your own.

He lifted his head and touched his forehead to yours, catching your lips in his in a kiss that consumed every inch of you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes; a kiss you wanted to burn you to ashes and scatter you on the evening air; a kiss you would remember with perfect clarity for the rest of your life, long after other details of that night lay forgotten.

~~~~

You stayed at the izakaya for another hour or two, Hizashi’s jacket draped over your shoulders while both he and Shouta hovered in your general vicinity like a pair of mother hens.

All Might and Nezu were the first to leave, staying only for a couple of rounds and catch up with Shouta, followed a short while later by Thirteen. Nemuri, who had had more than a little bit to drink by that point, tried to persuade everyone else to finish up the night at a club. Ordinarily, Hizashi would have said yes, but he had other responsibilities today, namely getting you home and finally hashing it out with you and Shouta.

He didn’t speak much at all on the drive to your house, glancing at you in his rear view mirror every time you hit traffic lights. He wanted to reach out for Shouta’s hand as he had yours; to congratulate him properly for his hard work that day. Once or twice, as you leaned your head against the passenger side window and drifted in and out of sleep, he reached in Shouta’s direction, only to pass it off as resting his hand against the gear stick.

Even if he did make contact, he knew Shouta wouldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t do anything without your knowledge. It was exactly the sort of honour he loved him for, but did nothing to warm his fingertips. Hizashi loved to touch and be touched; he liked being on the receiving end of attention almost as much as he liked giving it out. Not being able to touch Shouta was like being starved of oxygen and he felt himself wither with every second that passed.

It was a relief when they finally arrived at your house, Shouta lifting you up into his arms as you rifled through your purse for the key.

Hizashi followed the pair of you inside, watching as Shouta set you down on the couch and slipped off your shoes with a good deal of care- far more care than he ever afforded himself.

“We need to talk,” Shouta said as you rubbed your eyes.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, suddenly paranoid that you would be too tired for such an important conversation.

You sat up straight, though - of course you did - not quite wide awake, but coherent.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Let’s talk.”

The three of you sat in silence for a while. None of you had ever imagined getting this far.

Finally, Shouta broke it.

“I fucked Hizashi,” he said, so bluntly that Hizashi choked on his own spit.

“Hey, you...you don’t have to put it like that!”

“Why not,” shrugged Shouta. “It’s what happened.”

“Well yes, but...it sounds so dirty .”

For Hizashi, at least, it had been more than just fucking and even though he knew Shouta wasn’t an overly sentimental kind of guy, the notion that he felt otherwise prickled at his skin. He had been one too many people’s one night stand for it not to.

You glanced from Hizashi to Shouta with an unreadable expression. Finally, you nodded, crossing one leg over the other in the pose you very often took at your desk.

“Okay.”

Hizashi was sure his stomach fell through the floor. He’d expected you to be shocked, hurt or at the very least confused. He hadn’t expected your reaction to be so subdued.

“Does it bother you?” said Shouta.

“Why would it?”

“Well...uh…”

Hizashi glanced from you to Shouta, increasingly agitated by both of your poker faces. You were normally far more expressive than this and it was making him nervous.

“I fucked Hizashi too,” you shrugged and it took everything in him not to gasp.

It was one thing for Shouta to say it, but you?

“Does it bother you two?” you said. “That I’ve slept with you both.”

“Of course not,” said Hizashi, so quickly that it was a surprise even to himself.

The idea of being upset with you and Shouta for sleeping with each other was absurd. He wasn’t even completely upset that you’d kept it from him for so long. Shouta hadn’t been upset by the revelation that you had slept with him either, accepting it as easily as if he’d been told the pair of you had gone to the movies or eaten dinner.

“Then why should it bother me ?”

“We’re both men,” said Shouta almost immediately, to which you finally broke out into a smile.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

“If we did it again...would it bother you?”

“Do you want to do it again?”

“Yes,” said Shouta, once again without any sort of hesitation.

“ Really ?” said Hizashi, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Sure.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples, adjusting your weight on the couch. Both Hizashi and Shouta stepped forwards to help but you waved them away.

“It’s okay with me,” you said. “It’s not like I own either of you. You don’t need my permission.”

“No, but I want it,” said Shouta, stubborn as ever.

You pushed yourself up from the couch and folded your arms, wrapping your fingers in the sleeves of Hizashi’s jacket.

“Do you remember how all of this began?”

“ Ego ,” said Shouta.

“No, before that,” you said, shaking your head. “When I got dumped...it made me question everything. Akira told me he didn’t want to settle down, he didn’t want to lock himself into a particular path...and I hated him for it. I thought I wasn’t good enough, that I was boring, that my entire life until that point had been a waste of time…”

“(Name),” said Hizashi, but you waved him off.

“I understand it now, though,” you said. “It was never really about Akira. It’s just...up until then I’d always been the one who settled. I was always the one who made sacrifices and hard choices. I was always the one who caved. Up until Ego I’d never done anything self indulgent. I’d never thrown caution to the wind and chased something I wanted. Until then I’d shaped myself to fit other people, because at some point I’d convinced myself that everything I actually wanted was silly or an imposition.”

You breathed a heavy sigh, cheeks flushing a bright pink.

“I want both of you,” you said. “I don’t want to choose or settle. Life’s too short to talk yourself out of doing things that make you happy. If you want to choose, I’ll support it, but don’t feel like you have to because of me.”

Hizashi looked across at Shouta. Shouta looked at him. Both of them turned to look at you and all of the confidence melted from your body.

“That is…” you said, shuffling on the spot, “I mean…”

“This is new territory,” said Hizashi at last, “it’ll take time to figure it out.”

“If it doesn’t work we can just reset,” shrugged Shouta, “it’s not a problem.”

“We’ll need to,” you said, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, “....go over boundaries.”

“We can have a longer conversation about it tomorrow,” said Hizashi, as you rubbed your eyes. “It’s been a long day.”

He reached into his pocket for his car keys, turning to Shouta with a knowing look.

Hizashi had had you all to himself for much of the day. It was only fair that Shouta got some time too, especially considering how much you likely still had to talk about. He doubted either of you would declare your undying love in an alley behind the izakaya.

“I’m heading home,” he said, “you two...don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

~~~~

After Hizashi left, you and Shouta fell into a comfortable silence. He helped you into your pyjamas and tucked you up in bed, planting kisses on your forehead any time you got close enough. It was so casually affectionate that you thought your heart might burst and you quite deliberately turned your face to his for more attention.

Your heart sank, though, when he actually tucked you in.

“I’ll be right next door,” he said, backing away, “call me if you need anything.”

You glanced from your bed to him, finally pulling back the sheets and motioning for him to come closer. You had wanted to hold onto him for what felt like an eternity and you weren’t going to pass up the chance now that it was right in front of you.

“Come here,” you said, patting the space next to you. “Get in.”

He considered it, the dilemma visibly playing out across his face.

“Fine,” he said, “move over that way.”

You did exactly that, wondering what his motives were. It would have been easier for him to take the side you pointed out to him. Had he picked the other side for no other reason than to be contrarian? It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

He unbuttoned his shirt and dragged it from his shoulders, exposing the sharp angles and scars of his body. This wasn’t the first time he’d done so in this room and heat pooled inside of you at the memory. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself staring then, either. You had seen the scar on his face from USJ, but not the mark on his elbow. You skimmed over the ripples in his skin, the same discoloration as on your own body.

Realisation sank in.

Shouta did indeed have a reason for choosing that side of the bed and it was far simpler than you might have imagined.

Anyone who broke into your house would have to pass your couch. Shouta had picked the side of the bed that was closest to the door. Anyone who came in would have to go through him to get to you.

You lifted up the covers so he could crawl in beside you, heart skipping a beat as he rested his head on the pillow. He looked at you in confusion, no doubt feeling your eyes on him.

“What is it?”

You rested your head on his chest.

“Nothing.”

In this situation, Hizashi would surely have pestered you for an answer. Shouta was almost certainly curious, but he didn’t say so, instead combing strands of hair out of your face in an attempt to see more of you.

You closed your eyes and listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the warmth of his body enclosing yours. He held you close, though not so tightly that it hurt, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you to sleep.

You fell asleep safe and warm, with a peaceful expression that Shouta watched long into early morning.

~~~~~~

A week passed.

Your energy returned, albeit slowly. It took the best part of a day to get through your notifications and update your friends and family on your condition, much less make the time to have them over. It took all of your energy on that first day to make a single pot of tea, much less make conversation.

Nemuri, true to her word, stopped in every morning to make breakfast and help with laundry. Her cooking wasn’t the best and you found yourself redoing the laundry more often than not, but her heart was in the right place and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn down her offer.

Hizashi created a group chat with you, Shouta and himself as the only members. You knew exactly what it was for the moment you received an invitation, smiling at the emojis he had used as a title: 🐱 🎤 👑

If you were all going to date it made sense to have a group chat, though it made your stomach flutter nonetheless. You still couldn’t quite believe you’d signed up for this, much less that Hizashi and Shouta were just as up for it as you were.

It didn’t sink in even as the three of you ordered food and worked over the final details, which in the end took only a matter of minutes. You were all fairly laid back when it came to preferences and boundaries. You didn’t mind who slept with who or how many dates you had with each other. You were all busy for one reason or another and there was no point in keeping score.

You discussed threesomes last of all. Given your triangular relationship, it had always only been a matter of time before it cropped up in conversation. You and Shouta had never had one, while Hizashi’s experience mostly amounted to drunken fumbling with beautiful strangers. He’d never done it with anyone he wanted to date, much less anyone he actually was . It was new territory for everyone and all three of you were nervous for different reasons.

You agreed that if you were to test run something of that nature, it made sense to do so before the next school term. The teachers would become incredibly busy almost overnight and, while Nezu had gotten you a temporary replacement for the first couple of weeks, you would have just as much to catch up on when you returned.

And so it was that Hizashi sent an address to the group chat, one sent you flushing a bright pink.

👑: You do realise that’s a love hotel?

🎤: Yup! Best for it to be on neutral ground, don’t you think?

👑: I guess you’re right .

🎤: Plus, this one has alllllll kinds of facilities. They have a minibar, they sell toys at the counter, they have every kind of lube and condom you can dream of...it’s the perfect place for  de p r a v i t y

👑: what do you think, Shouta?

🐱: whatever

🎤: Then it’s settled! We’re going to have so much fun! 🎉 🎉 🎉

You lowered your phone into your lap with a giggle, which prompted Nemuri to look over from the kitchen with a raised eyebrow.

She hadn’t asked too many questions about who it was you were always texting, mostly because she hadn’t needed to. Hizashi and Shouta took turns staying the night with you long after the strength returned to your legs. It never progressed any further than cuddles and they were always gone before she arrived, but you knew she wasn’t a fool and had likely already guessed what was going on. You’d agreed to tell her once the dust had settled and you’d figured things out.

“Something funny?”

“Somewhere, at this very moment, I’m pretty sure Shouta’s questioning his life choices,” you said between giggles.

“Ahhh,” she said, reaching into your cupboard for dishes, “must be Tuesday.”

~~~~

However nervous you might have been about going to the love hotel paled in comparison to how it felt when you actually arrived.

You had spent hours going through your wardrobe, wondering what on earth to wear. Hizashi was quick to remind you that whatever you wore would end up on the bedroom floor anyway, which did little to quell your nerves. You wanted tonight to be special; the kind of night you revisited over and over to better enjoy each detail. In the end, you settled on a simple dress and shoes, with the fanciest lingerie you owned underneath.

Your stomach fluttered as you caught sight of your reflection while you were getting dressed, the anticipation of the night ahead almost too much to bear. After tonight everything would be different for what you prayed would be the right reasons.

You bobbed on your heels as Hizashi booked you in, glancing around at your surroundings. It didn’t look any different to any ordinary hotel, though you weren’t sure why such a thing surprised you. You had heard stories of people spending the night in one by accident, as well as people who took advantage of the cheap rate to do so on purpose.

You glanced across at Shouta to see if he was as nervous as you, only to see him examining one of the posters on the wall. From the looks of things, the hotel offered themed rooms as well as generic ones and while some of the themes were pretty run of the mill, some were far more unusual. They had a dinosaur themed room and an aquarium, as well as a superhero room designed to look like a back alley.

They also had a cat themed one, complete with fluffy pink bed sheets and equally fluffy cat themed lingerie, which seemed to have grabbed Shouta’s attention the most. You made a mental note to do some online shopping at the next opportunity.

“Let’s go!” said Hizashi at last, dangling a key labelled 215.

You took a deep breath and followed him through the building, taking note of the luxurious interiors. You’d expected it to look seedy and the reality was quite jarring.

“Who’s excited?!” Hizashi cried out as you took the lift to the second floor. “This is going to be awesome!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, but even he fell silent when you stepped inside of your room for the night.

This...this was everything you had expected and more besides. Everything you looked at was more obscene than the last.

The room was bright red, with silk sheets and a mirror on the ceiling. There was a pole and set of couches in the right hand corner, as well as bookcases full of erotica. Across from the bed was an enormous flat screen television and a cabinet underneath it that you knew without looking contained porn.

Hizashi fiddled with the switches on the wall, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the spotlights on the floor and ceiling, all three of you taking a step back when one switch made the room rumble. The ceiling mirror shifted and a set of straps lowered through the gap.

“Is that…” you whispered.

“It’s a sex swing!” cried out Hizashi, unable to contain his excitement.

You had only ever heard of them until now and mostly as a joke. Hizashi rushed across the room to test the straps, looping his wrists into the cuffs and hoisting his weight up off the floor, laughing as he began to swing as if the three of you were in a playground and not a room full of sin.

On the leftmost side of the room was a wooden divider screen, with multiple wardrobes behind it. You approached them slowly, morbidly curious about what you might find inside.

What you actually found there made you cry out in glee.

“Oh my god,” you said, rummaging through the drawers. “Oh my god!!!”

“What is it?” said Hizashi, trying to unravel himself from the swing.

“It’s...oh my god. They have costumes.”

“Oh? You gonna be a dominatrix for us?”

“No, you don't understand,” you said, stepping out from behind the divider. “They have costumes.”

Both Hizashi and Shouta’s eyes widened when they saw what you were wearing. You’d found a familiar spiked leather jacket and gloves, as well as the shades to match the set.

“Hey, hey, hey listeners,” you called out in your best Present Mic impression. “It’s a beeeeeeutiful day to boogie!”

Hizashi was delighted; he struck a pose of his own.

“Put on your dancin’ shoes and happy smiles,” he said, “tonight we’re going Plus Ultra style!”

“I knew it was a bad idea for you two to spend time together,” sighed Shouta, rummaging through the mini bar.

“Are you saying there’s not enough room for two Present Mics?” Hizashi pouted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t think the world is big enough for one .”

Shouta pulled out three beers and unscrewed the lids, passing one to you and another to Hizashi.

“Cheers,” you said, taking a long sip before setting the bottle down on the nearest surface.

Hizashi and Shouta did the same, the reality of what you were about to do sinking in.

“Anyone want to back out?” said Hizashi.

“Nope,” you said, Shouta shaking his head along with you.

“Okay,” said Hizashi, “in that case, let’s set the mood .”

You stripped off the leather jacket and gloves, watching as Hizashi played around with the various switches in the room. He returned the sex swing to its original position and fixed the lighting, choosing a setting that left the room in a soft light that resembled candles.

Shouta pulled the pillows from the bed and set them down on the nearest couch, fluffing them up as you slipped behind the divider screen and unfastened the zipper of your dress. You slipped it off your shoulders and down to the floor, excitement rushing through you at the knowledge that neither Hizashi nor Shouta had noticed yet.

You rearranged your hair, taking a deep breath before stepping out and perching on the end of the bed, stretching like a cat and waiting for them to turn and look at you.

It was Shouta who noticed first, turning from the couch and freezing on the spot. You flashed him a knowing smile and he reached out for Hizashi, who was searching through his phone for the perfect playlist.

“...so I’ve been putting this together for the past few days. I wanted something that was mellow but had a bit of a beat and-ow!”

Shouta poked him in the ribs and pointed in your direction, prompting Hizashi to almost drop his phone.

“I seem to have lost my dress,” you said, crossing both arms over your chest in pretend modesty. “Won’t you help me?”

“O-o-o-of course,” said Hizashi, “though for what’s worth, you seem to be doing just fine without it.”

Shouta sank down into a chair at the foot of the bed, reaching for his beer as Hizashi climbed up onto the bed behind you.

“You look,” he said. “I’ll supervise.”

Hizashi’s breath was warm against the back of your neck and you shivered as he planted kisses along your exposed back.

“Maybe it’s hiding behind your ears,” he said, lifting your hair and swirling his tongue around your earlobe. “Hmmm...nope.”

“Maybe this one,” you said, tapping your finger against the opposite ear and giggling at the tickle of his lips against your ear.

“No,” he said, sounding genuinely forlorn even as he kissed the back of your neck. “Not there. Perhaps… maybe...”

He looped his fingers through your bra’s fastening and unhooked it with ease. Your bra dropped down onto your lap and you tossed it aside, watching as Shouta leaned back in his chair and sipped his beer, an expression of satisfaction across his face as Hizash looped his hands around your middle and reached up to give your breasts a squeeze.

“Not here either,” he said, tightening his grip on your nipples and grazing his teeth against your shoulder. “Where else might it be?”

He slipped his arms under yours, maneuvering them into his line of sight and turning your hands so they were palm up.

“Not here,” he said, spreading your fingers in the same way you wanted him to spread your legs, “my my, we are in a pickle.”

He set your hands back down and moved a little further up the bed, leaning over to pull at your shoulders so that you followed. He guided you up onto your knees and tossed his own shirt to one side before resting a hand over your lower stomach. He snaked his free hand over your breasts, burying his lips in your neck as his other hand dipped into your underwear.

“Is it in here, perhaps?” he purred, slipping his fingers into your folds and earning a gasp from you in response. “Hmmm…”

He slipped a single, exploratory finger into you and you nibbled your bottom lip, remembering the last time he had gone down on you. You’d been a shivering, shuddering mess afterwards and you couldn’t wait to experience it a second time.

“What do you think, Sho?” he asked, glancing across at Shouta, who had cast aside his beer in favour of reaching into his pants.

“I think you should get a better look,” he said, resting his free elbow on the arm of the chair and resting his chin in his hand.

“Roger that,” said Hizashi, taking his hand out of your underwear. “Lay back for me, princess.”

You obeyed, rolling over onto your back so that your head rested at the foot of the bed, facing out towards Shouta.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, easing your panties down your thighs and over your ankles before tossing them over to Shouta, who held them up to the light, admiring the way the soft light shone through the pattern.

You blushed, heat pooling deep inside of your core as Hizashi planted a kiss between your breasts, hair tickling over your lower stomach as he spread your legs wide to expose your cunt.

The chill of being so thoroughly exposed lasted only a second; Hizashi ran his tongue over your clit before it could truly register. You gasped, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair and catching your reflection in the mirror on the ceiling.

You knew for a fact what was happening; you knew you were there, you knew who you were with. You saw your face, your naked breasts, the lacy stockings you had yet to remove and Hizashi’s head bobbing between your thighs. Even so, you didn’t recognise yourself.

You released Hizashi’s hair and spread your arms across the bed, watching as the girl in the mirror did the same. You watched the pleasure play out across her face, the muscles in Hizashi’s back shifting as he reached to slip in a finger. You cried out and so did the girl on the ceiling, back arching from the bed.

You could see Shouta too, jerking his cock in time to Hizashi’s movements. You watched the ceiling, watched as Hizashi took note of your silence and followed your gaze.

“Ah hah,” he said, waving at your reflections. “So Sho isn’t the only one who likes to watch!”

You blushed and turned your head to look at Shouta. You were on your back, so he was upside down, but the intensity when your eyes met was no different than usual. Before you knew it, you were reaching out to him, willing him to come over. You wanted to feel his hands against your body as well, wanted to see all three of your naked bodies on the ceiling.

You didn’t speak a single word of invitation, but you didn’t have to. He got to his feet and kicked off his pants and underwear, showing off how hard he had gotten just from watching.

Hizashi sat back, wiping your juices from his lips.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said, letting you relax your legs and roll over onto your side. Shouta approached the bed and you reached for his dick, propping yourself up on your elbow to coax him closer. He climbed up onto the bed and sat down on his knees, providing the perfect angle for you to run your tongue over his hardness.

You hadn’t tasted his cock before. Technically speaking, you hadn’t tasted Hizashi’s either. You had dipped a finger into the pool of cum he left on you while he was busy running your bath, curiosity and lust overtaking you.

It was too simplistic to say it tasted good or bad. The only way you could describe it was that it tasted of him, sweet and earthy in equal measures.

Shouta’s cock tasted far more bitter, though in a way that was more intriguing than it was unpleasant. He was broad, so broad that you couldn’t take all of him into your mouth without gagging, though you were so intoxicated by him that you were more than willing to try.

Hizashi crawled off the bed and kicked off his own pants, slipping a kiss to the side of Shouta’s mouth before leaning back down onto the sheets. He shuffled his weight until he could comfortably rest his head between your thighs, lifting one of your legs up onto his shoulders before returning to his earlier ministrations.

Maybe it was the change in angle; the moans you dragged from Shouta every time you moved your head. Maybe it was the way Shouta used his position to grip onto Hizashi’s hard cock. Whatever the case, you found yourself quaking at the prospect of everything to come. You could feel your stomach churning in anticipation; the wet sound of your lips on Shouta’s skin combined with the wet feel of Hizashi’s lips against your clit sending shudders of pleasure down your spine.

The first time you came, it was like butterflies in your belly, sending shockwaves through your middle that teased at what was to come. You moaned onto Shouta’s dick, Shouta squeezed Hizashi’s and all three of you groaned at the combined sensation.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, sweetness?” said Hizashi, sitting up from between your legs to look you in the face.

You nodded, rolling over onto your back while he got up to choose a condom from the box beside the bed.

“Hey,” he said, unable to hide his glee, “they have Present Mic ones!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

He laughed as he tore open the packaging and pulled it on, still overjoyed as he got back up onto the bed and aligned his hips with yours. He gave your clit a tentative stroke and you raised your hand up to get a good grip on Shouta’s dick from this new angle, jerking it gently even as Hizashi held onto your hips and slid his tip into you. You sighed at the feeling of being stretched, Hizashi slipping himself in and out a little deeper each time.

Both of you moaned the moment you took him to the hilt, as he gave one gentle thrust.

“Oooh, she feels so good, Shouta,” he said. “I’ll get her all nice and warmed up for you!”

Shouta didn’t answer, he was watching the three of you in the ceiling mirror and Hizashi reached for his shoulder.

“Sho,” he said, “earth to Sho.”

Shouta looked down at him, only to be dragged into a searing kiss, one that came with its own soundtrack of moans and flesh hitting flesh. Hizashi thrust his hips into yours with such force that it pushed you up the bed, leaving you little choice but to grip one of Shouta’s legs.

“Okay, little listener?” said Hizashi, breaking the kiss to peer down at you.

“Not going easy on me, are you?”

“What me? Never!”

He slammed his hips into yours and crushed his lips against Shouta’s, all while you moaned and held onto Shouta for dear life. Hizashi held one of your legs in place to secure you further, tangling the other in Shouta’s hair.

You wrapped your free hand around Shouta’s cock, jerking it roughly in time to Hizashi’s thrusts. You looked up, watching the pair of them kiss both above your head and on the ceiling.

Your insides grew tighter still; a spring inside of you ready to unwind.

You weren’t naive enough to believe Hizashi would let you come there and then. Sex was an artform to him and he had had enough time to plan.

“You feel so good, cupcake,” he said, breaking free of the kiss for a second, “Sho’s really missing out.”

He slowed down his thrusts to an agonisingly slow and deep pace that left you gasping into the sheets and digging your nails into the back of Shouta’s legs.

“...listen to that,” Hizashi murmured against Shouta’s lips, forcing him to listen to the wet sound of him fucking you, “it’s driving me crazy and I’m the one balls deep.”

He stopped for a moment and Shouta reached for his jaw.

“Don’t hold out on me, now,” he said. “Don’t start something you aren’t prepared to finish.”

Hizashi grinned at the command; you realised this was exactly the outcome he had been waiting for. He fucked you so hard and fast that you squealed in a mixture of surprise and delight. Shouta adjusted his weight, crossing his legs beneath him and guiding your head into his lap.

He stroked your lips as gently as if he had kissed them, reaching for the hand that had held his dick not so long ago and planting kisses on your knuckles.

“Harder,” he said, in a commanding tone completely at odds with the tender way he held your hand.

Hizashi was only too happy to comply, lifting your knees higher to get a better angle. You gripped Shouta’s hand and arched your back, trying to link your legs behind Hizashi’s back to hold him in place, only for him to tickle your feet in punishment.

Part of you couldn’t stand the growing tension between your thighs. You wanted to let go and lose yourself completely. The other, more rational part of you wanted to relish this moment, the combination of Hizashi’s rough and increasingly sloppy thrusts and Shouta’s soft touches.

“Deeper,” said Shouta at last and you screwed up your face as Hizashi obeyed, so close to shattering to pieces around his cock and yet so tortuously far. You spluttered in sheer desperation, holding Shouta so tightly that you feared you’d break the skin.

“Oh my g-don’t stop,” you pleaded, “like that, like that, like-“

You let out a whine, holding your body still as pleasure rushed through it. You bucked your hips into his as flutters of delight rushed through your core, enough to shake your legs though not enough to take over completely.

“Oh fuck,” you said as your walls clenched around Hizashi’s cock, a taste of what was to come and enough to send him over the edge.

He gave a strangled whine as his cock twitched deep inside of you, holding himself perfectly taut to ride out the wave. You knew the exact moment he finished, for the bones left his body and he flopped forwards, a goofy smile on his face.

“You tryin’ to kill me, Sho?” he murmured, head resting on Shouta’s chest and dick still buried deep inside of you. He pulled out with a sigh and rolled backwards, climbing up off the bed without any sort of grace. He reached for his beer as he pulled off the condom, making an impressed sort of noise as he held it out in front of him. “Look how much you made me cum!”

He threw a couple of fresh condoms onto the bed and Shouta picked up the closest one: a luxury branded one in simple silver packaging. He eased your head up from his lap and shifted positions, leaving you to watch as he put it on, body so close to release that it ached.

“Come here,” he said gently, helping you up onto your knees and holding his body against your back. “Just like that…”

“I’m so close,” you whined, “so close…”

“I know,” he whispered in your ear, “you’ve been very good and patient.”

You laughed at that, knowing for a fact that you’d been anything but.

Shouta reached down to take hold of your waist, holding his hand over the flat of your stomach and kissing the back of your neck. You arched your body into his every touch and ground your ass against him, relishing every time you brushed against his hard dick.

He guided you down onto your hands and knees, slipping a finger into you a couple of times before replacing it with his dick. You moaned in relief at not only being filled again, but in a different position. Every time Shouta pushed into you, he teased the sensitive spot inside of you that would turn you into a squealing mess; a spot that had gone thoroughly neglected until Akira dumped you.

Shouta went almost torturously slow and deep, gripping onto your hips to steady you. At first you gripped onto the bed sheets, before sliding one hand down to your clit. You wanted to cum so badly, but no Shouta wouldn’t go any faster no matter how much you moaned.

You never made contact with your clit, though. Hizashi got there before you.

“Let me,” he said, sitting down next to the bed and leaning over to reach his head between your thighs. You gasped at the combined sensations: Shouta’s deep thrusts and Hizashi’s masterful tongue.

“Oh my god,” you said, so overstimulated that you feared you’d explode. “Oh my god, don’t st-ahhh!”

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. You weren’t there; none of it was real. All you knew was pleasure, rippling from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, Hizashi’s tongue hot and sticky against your clit while Shouta groaned, your walls clenching around him almost unbearably tightly.

Your body shook, still twitching as both Aizawa and Hizashi eased you down onto your back.

“You okay, listener?” said Hizashi, stroking sweaty strands of hair from your face. “Are you with us?”

You blinked, staring blankly into their faces.

“I think,” you said, voice hoarse, “I think my soul left my body for a second there.”

Something cold touched your cheek and you realised Shouta was holding out a bottle of water from the minibar.

“Maybe we went too hard on you,” he said, sounding more than a little concerned.

“No,” you said, flapping a limp arm as you leaned over to sip the water. “That’s not what I meant! It left my body in a good way!”

“Hear that, Sho,” smirked Hizashi, “your dick is killer.”

“Speaking of which,” you said, “you didn’t finish.”

“You’re right,” gasped Hizashi. “Where are our manners?”

Both he and Shouta had flopped down on either side of you, cocooning you in warmth to negate how cold you had suddenly gotten. Hizashi shimmied over to the other side of the bed, leaving Shouta in the middle, all of his earlier fatigue forgotten.

“Now then,” he said, peeling the condom off Shouta’s dick, “let’s do something about this.”

At first you watched, body still heavy. Shouta rested his hand on Hizashi’s head as he trailed his tongue over the underside of his dick, looking Shouta dead in the eye as he lapped up all of his precum and took his dick into his mouth.

It was mesmerising; so different to when you were on the receiving end. You could make out every flutter of Shouta’s eyelashes; the way his body tensed whenever Hizashi hit a particularly sensitive spot or sucked that little bit harder. He looked so vulnerable there and then and you couldn’t look away.

Shouta opened his eyes and looked towards you, crushing his lips against yours before cupping your face in his hand. He pulled you further down his body, until you joined Hizashi at his waist. Hizashi leaned back to make room for you, holding the base of Shouta’s cock and guiding your lips down onto it, earning a sigh of relief.

“Like that,” said Hizashi, holding Shouta in place as you sucked at him. “Wow, you’re really good at this, check you out!”

“Maybe one day I’ll be as good as you!”

“Haha! Maybe! Now, (Name), I want you to do something real quick.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to sit tight and then, when I give you the nod, I want you to do this.”

He leaned over and wrapped his lips around the tip of Shouta’s cock, giving it a hard suck before letting go, making a loud popping noise as he let go. Shouta’s response was instantaneous; he hissed with pleasure and bucked his hips into Hizashi’s touches.

“Think you can handle that?” said Hizashi, bright eyed.

“I think so.”

He nodded and you sat up on your elbows to watch, eyes darting from Hizashi to Shouta as Hizashi began to jerk Shouta’s dick without a hint of mercy. Shouta ground his hips into the bed, arching his back just as you had and making deep, guttural noises you would never have guessed he was capable of. You could see how close he was getting, cheeks flushed and eyes darkened with need.

He gasped when Hizashi finally let go, though the torture wasn’t over. Hizashi gave you the nod you’d been waiting for and you wrapped your lips around the tip just as he had. You sucked hard, relishing the noises Shouta made almost as much as the pressure when he planted a hand on the top of your head in an attempt to hold you in place. You let go, knowing it would drive him insane.

You really were learning from the best.

Hizashi gripped Shouta’s cock and motioned for you to take the tip between your lips. He held on tight and jerked him hard, both sensations leaving him squirming into the bed.

“J-....F-...I…” he babbled, arching his back and reaching his free hand to grip the bed frame. “H-”

Hizashi tapped your chin, motioning for you to sit back. You obeyed and he jerked Shouta’s dick with even more force, only stopping as Shouta sighed in relief and cum seeped across his body.

You and Hizashi both watched him in contentment, taking in the ripple of his muscles as he gasped for air. You crawled back up to lay beside him, giving him a soft kiss to the cheek that he leaned into.

Hizashi crawled up to Shouta’s other side and flopped over onto his back, folding his arms behind his head.

All three of you stared at your reflections on the ceiling, drinking in the sight of your naked bodies and perhaps even thinking the same thing.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

‘What now?”

Art by the lovely @earthbender/ earthbender on tumblr / ArtemisRedd on AO3~

[babytsum]

no one knows pt. 2 - m. atsumu

(a/n): my fic rec account reached 700 a few days ago so i wrote a lil one shot and @traferza helped :)))) thank u bro

warnings: soft smut (I did not intend for this to be a smut fit but here we are), fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration

no one knows - m. atsumu

"come on, (y/n)! you haven't seen me play in ages!"

tobio stared back at you with hopeful eyes. your best friend has changed a lot since that last time you hung out with him in high school. his black hair was parted, he was much taller, buffer, too. but he was still that meathead volleyball jock you knew.

"okay, fine. you still the king?"

"no! that's exactly why you need to see me."

the day finally came and you waved to tobio who was sporting his white schweiden adlers jersey. you knew he had changed from his days at karasuno, though you weren't able to see the process firsthand since you moved to tokyo. sadly, you were only able to catch a few of his games whenever karasuno went to nationals.

and when you recognized a certain blonde on the opposing team, you broke a little bit. sure, it had been a few weeks, so of course it's a fresh scar.

but you didn't think it would hurt this much.

you berated yourself for not asking who tobio was playing against, but it was too late for that now. you couldn't leave the game, he was looking forward to you being there after many failed attempts to attend. all you could do was hope that the blonde didn't recognize you in the crowd.

it feels like it was just yesterday that miya atsumu broke your heart in the pouring rain. the awkward silence, the grey sky, the solemn tone of his voice. it was too soon to see him again. it only took the mere sight of him to bring you back.

though, you still gave the adlers a polite cheer with every point they scored. you flashed a few supportive smiles to tobio. you still hugged him after his game, praised his skills that have definitely advanced since the last time you've seen him. you met ushiwaka, who looked terrifying but was actually very polite, and hoshiumi, who was very enthusiastic about your praise.

your reluctance showed when tobio insisted that you go out to lunch with them, which included some of the players in the jackals. you still went, after all, you haven't seen him in awhile. and what were the chances that one of those players was atsumu?

100%. the chances were 100%.

while bokuto and hinata were warm, engaging in your many stories that embarrassed tobio with even sakusa showing slight interest, atsumu was stone cold. he quietly ate his food across from you, only speaking when someone asked if he was okay. he lied, of course, reassuring everyone he was tired.

it was like this for weeks anyways.

though, you ignored him. you ignored the short glances he would give you every now and then. but it was hard for him to do the same with the way you lightly rubbed tobio's shoulder, the way you laughed at his flustered state when you told everyone about how he tried to eat a volleyball. his jaw clenched and his grip on the glass of water tightened.

"miya-san, can you pass the soy sauce, please?"

despite your efforts to be polite, his face still held a stoic expression as he set down the bottle a little too hard. you thanked him, but everyone knew something was wrong.

"thank you."

after you finished an onigiri, you excused yourself outside to take a phone call, using the time to text atsumu to behave. hopefully you weren't blocked, right?

your train of thought was interrupted by the ding of your phone.

meet me at the milk tea place we used to go to after. we need to talk.

damn right you needed to talk.

you went back, enjoying the rest of the lunch with your new friends and your old one. hinata, bokuto, and hoshiumi were a dangerous, but fun mix, not that you were complaining. they were entertaining and you fed into the energy. you noticed that atsumu was a little warmer, talking with everyone else at the table like normal.

"it's nice to see atsumu talking again. he's been a little antisocial these past few weeks and no one knows why." hinata sighed while bokuto nodded in agreement.

"oh?"

atsumu was the one who ended it after all. but at least you weren't the only one hurting, right?

your thoughts took over you again as you imagined what could have been if you just said you loved him right away. if you just told him then and there and been honest. or if you didn't let him leave you in the rain, ran after him, reached for his wrist at the least. but it was too late anyways.

"(y/n)?" hoshiumi waved his hand over your face.

"what, hm?"

"you kind of blanked out for a minute, are you okay?"

"yeah, just a little tired that's all."

eventually, lunch had to end and you greeted the rest of the players goodbye before you left. tobio pulled you into a close hug while you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"come to another game, okay? or else i'll tell ushiwaka what you said about him when you saw him on the tv."

"tobio, with all due respect, shut the fu-"

"kidding."

you gave him another kiss on the cheek before you parted ways.

the milk tea place wasn't far, atsumu should have been there by now considering that he actually has a car. and you were right, he was at the same corner that you two always sat at, your favorite drink set on the table. as you approached, your legs started to feel heavy, but you brought yourself to sit across from him anyways.

"so you move fast." you scoffed.

"what do you mean?"

"you have a thing for setters or something, (y/n)?"

"i have no idea what the fuck you're talking about."

he sighed, looking down at the drink in his hands. months of secret hook ups, small dates, and it only took you a few weeks to get over him. it was selfish, but he had hoped you would feel at least a bit of pain. maybe if he knew you cried, even gotten a little frustrated, it would be a sign that he meant something to you.

"tobio is my best friend. he has been since we were in diapers. why would you even care?"

"because," atsumu sighed in frustrated, "because it's supposed to be me making you laugh like that, kissing yer cheek and shit."

"if i recall correctly, you rejected me after the game."

"because i was fucking frustrated at you! i don't know, maybe it was a little fucked up, but i fucking loved you and you didn't say it back!"

"miya-san, you know why it takes a lot for me."

ah, yes. he remembers the first time you opened up, your head laying on his bare chest, hands stroking your hair, small circles being rubbed on his arm. he remembered how warm your body was, the tears on his chest. he remembered it all. he remembered your apologies, your rambles about your past, everything you were insecure about.

miya atsumu had the memory of an elephant, but he struggles to respond when confronted with overwhelming emotion.

"so we're not on first name basis anymore?"

"that's all you have to say?"

you felt the lump in your throat, the tears welling up in your eyes. but you didn't want to let this asshole see you cry, so instead you look at your feet, attempting to compose yourself.

"wait, i'm sorry-"

"i'm leaving."

and so you stood up and made your way towards the door, but not without atsumu's protests. you were a few steps out when you felt him grab your wrist. you might as well listen to everything he has to say. maybe you'd get closure or something. after all, he was the first person you opened up to after everything that happened with your ex. you thought he would be different, but he made it clear that you weren't worth his time anymore. why were you still listening to him again?

"i love you and you don't have to say it back but hear me out," he took another breath before continuing, "i know it was fucked up of me to just not say it back after it took you a day, but i think it was just because i was hurt and i didn't know what i was saying. i'm sorry."

"miya-san, i don't know if i can believe anything you say after that."

"and i don't blame you, it was kind of my fault, i just wanted you to say it right away even if you didn't come to terms with your feelings. i was selfish and i don't want to hurt you again."

tsumu looked tired, a little out of breath, a little beat. did you do that? as much as you loved him, it hurt to see him like this. it hurt even more to know it was partially your fault. you hoped it was from the game he had just played an hour or two ago, but you knew better.

"what do you want me to do with that?"

"i want to start over. i don't care how long it takes for you to love me again. just give me another chance, i don't mind the wait anymore."

his hand was on your cheek now, you could feel his breath on your face. and just this once, you didn't think it would hurt to give in. tsumu was never good with his words, but maybe this time was an exception.

and you answer him with a chaste kiss on his warm lips and he brings you closer, cupping your face in his big hands. before you know it, you're in his car feeling giddy, a big smile plastered on your faces.

the familiarity of his apartment overcame your senses. the smell of the tropical candles he liked, the messes of blankets on his couch that you never minded but ended up folding anyways, the taste of his skin. it was all familiar.

and you loved it.

he carried you to his room bridal style, gently laying you down on his bed before taking off his shirt. he helped you out of your clothes until you were left in your underwear as he left open mouthed kisses all over you chest.

"i missed you."

"i can tell." you responded, pointing at his obvious boner in his underwear.

"shut up."

you let out a giggle until he rubbed at your clothed clit, making your breath hitch. he pulled down your underwear agonizingly slow and nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. his touch was familiar. he was warm, like home, and you felt safe.

"i'm sorry for letting you go." he gave an apologetic kiss on your lips before slowly inserting his fingers into you.

you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the feeling of his fingers nudging the spongy spot in you that he was able to find every time. his tongue licked up to your clit, his fingers thrusting into you at a slow pace which he quickly sped up with the pace of his mouth on your nub. your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer into your heat.

atsumu obliged, replacing his fingers with his tongue. the wet muscle dipping into your slit, lapping up all of your slick. you were close, the heat building up in your lower belly, your walls convulsing. you were out of breath and when he let out a hum that vibrated against you, you were sent over the edge. you eyes rolled to the back of your head as he let you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

he kissed back up your body before his lips landed on your once again. you wanted him closer and your wish was granted when he fully sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

"you're so good to me," he rambled in your ear, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he pounded into you, "you sound so pretty."

tears filled your eyes while you kept a strong grip on his bicep. you were overwhelmed, both by the sweet things he said and the way his cock stretched you out perfectly. even though it was only weeks, it still felt so long since you were together like this. you missed him.

your legs wrapped around him, barely giving him space to move, but he worked with it, still keeping up his relentless pace. your walls fluttered around him as your grip on him got tighter and you knuckles turned white. he was close, you can tell by the way his thrusts were becoming more and more sloppy and how his groans turned into whines.

"look at me."

and when you came, he made sure you were looking at his face which was red, sweaty, and carried a soft expression. he was pretty and you were sure that you didn't make a mistake coming back to his apartment.

when you both came down from your highs, your face was buried in the crook of his neck and his arm was wrapped around you. soft circles were rubbed on your back as you placed a few kisses where you could. he placed one on the top of your sweaty head.

"you don't have to say-"

"i love you."

he grinned back at you while you looked up at his glossy brown eyes. your hand wiped away some of the tears that fell from his eyes at your confession and a sense of euphoria passed through the both of you, the hurt slowly fading away with each passing moment.

[detectivecarlosreyes]

In Case of Emergency (Ch 10/10)

Ao3 | 2.9/21.4k | Buddie | Status: Complete

Prev. Chapter 

Chapter 10: What’s Next: The Epilogue  Eddie and Christopher have a plan to ask Buck to move in, Buck gets his closure and Chris goes to camp. Set in the end piece of 3x18: What's Next.

As with all the other micro steps they had taken in the relationship up until this point, each one had to be approved first by Chris, because Eddie never wanted to overstep his son’s comfort, and this was no different.

“Bud, would you be okay with me asking Buck to move in with us?”

“Isn’t he already living with us?”

“Kind of, I know he stays over a few nights a week at the moment, but this will be a little different. It’ll mean he won’t have his apartment anymore and will live with us all the time instead.”

With understanding now shining in his eyes, Christopher was on board with the idea immediately bouncing in his seat, “Ohhhhh, okay!”

“So that’s a yes? You’re okay with him moving in?”

“You asked me ages ago if it was okay if he could stay over sometimes. It will be better with him here all the time.” And then he added, as sassily as a 9-year-old could, “Besides, I like it when he’s here, Bucky is a better cook than you.”

“Oh, so we’re being cheeky now, are we?” Unable to let the slander stand he descended upon Chris with a grin and attacked him with tickles, leaving peals of laughter echoing throughout the house in its wake.

Eventually, when the giggles subsided, he told Chris his plan and left him with the important job to decorate the small cardboard box that he bought the other day that they would present Buck’s house key in and make it official.

Now he just had one more thing to do before everything was in place.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

In some ways, Buck had felt like he was still reeling from that moment he first saw Abby after all that time apart. Even now, it seemed as if after finally getting that long overdue sit down with her, that it didn’t seem like it was enough, maybe nothing they said ever would be.

Sure, he was glad to see her happy and had found herself again while she travelled, he could never begrudge her of that after the years she had with her mother. It just would have been nice to get some communication about where she was at wit the relationship. If she had been honest about it when she knew she wasn’t coming back anytime soon he would have been fine with it, because at least then he wouldn’t have felt so strung along, feeling like him waiting wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t worth coming back to.

The fact that though she was sorry for the way he found out about it all, she didn’t actually apologise for how their relationship ended; or more specifically by not actually explicitly giving him the courtesy of breaking up with him. Despite not wanting to harbour any grudges over it he knows it will probably always leave a bitterness to the relationship.

It wasn’t until after he walked away, leaving her on the park bench did he realise why the conversation left him lacking. His part in the relationship was never an important factor to her, not once in her explanation did she seem to consider what she did would affect anyone else but herself. And really, that was the crux of the relationship, it had revolved around her and her needs leaving the relationship unbalanced.

Eddie was right though. Seeing her again, getting that closure, it was something that he needed to finally tie up that frayed, loose end and allowed him to close the book on the chapter in his life once and for all, no longer questioning what went wrong.

It made him realise how lucky he was now. Having found himself in the best relationship he’s ever been in. One that left him and Eddie as equals borne out of mutual love and respect of one another that didn’t leave one more important than the other. They were partners in more ways than one, feeding off each other and becoming each other’s anchors.

As he walked away with Eddie on his mind as he left, he sent him a quick text saying he was going to stop at their favourite bakery and picking up their usual on his way home.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, Buck breathed a sigh of relief, happy to put the day behind him and just be with Chris and Eddie. Getting out of the car, with the bag of freshly baked goods in one hand and his keys in the other he makes his way to the door, fumbling to find the house key only to find it missing.

With a frown he knocked on the door, feeling silly not having his key on him. Eddie was quick to answer looking almost bemused by the circumstance and opened the door wide. Stepping inside, he touched a kiss to Eddie’s cheek as he passed.

“I think I lost my key? But I swear I had it yesterday, I-I can’t imagine how it could have fallen off the key ring.” He offered the explanation as to why he was knocking on the door, something he hadn’t done in some time.

“Don’t worry about it, we can just get another one cut,” Eddie responded lightly and Buck could hear Eddie’s footsteps following him after closing the door, trailing him to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” Eddie asked him gently, changing the subject as he placed his hand over his own still holding the bag of baked goods that he sat on the kitchen bench.  

He sighed another relieved sigh before smiling at him, comforted by his tact, “You were right. It didn’t go exactly how I thought it would, but I’m glad I saw her, I needed the closure.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you got what you needed.”

Before he could elaborate more on what else he realised from his meeting with Abby, the clatter of crutches interrupted them and Chris all but crashed into his side, wrapping his arms around his hips.

“Buck! You’re back!” Gasped Chris before turning to his dad excitedly, “Can we give it to him now?”

Buck looked between Chris and Eddie quizzically and only became more confused upon seeing Eddi’s face light up, seemingly unable to deny his son’s request. “Alright, we can give it to him now. Why don’t you go get it.”

“Okay!” And then he was gone, moving as swiftly as his crutches would allow back in the direction of his room.

He turned back to Eddie, feeling very much out of the loop, “Eddie? Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Annoyingly all the response he got in return was Eddie’s smiling eyes and him saying that he would just have to wait and see. Buck rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement at Eddie’s answer but held his tongue in favour of waiting for whatever he was told wait for.

He didn’t have to wait long, with Chris re-entering the room at a hurried pace carrying a small blue box. Buck watched as Chris slowed to a stop in front of Eddie to which Eddie, bent over and whispered something in his son’s ear.

He knelt down when Chris turned back to him, much like when Chris gave him that card at his welcome back party at Athena and Bobby’s all those months ago.

“What’s that you got there, bud?”  

Chris just grinned his excitable goofy grin that Buck loves with all his heart and held out the box to him. Buck looked between Chris and the box outstretched in his grasp and took it delicately. Upon closer inspection of the box Chris had just handed him, Buck realised that it wasn’t just blue. It had been hand decorated with a blue marker around the sides, with the drawing of a house adorned on the lid.

With a sharp look between the two Diaz’s, he lifted the lid on the box to find a key resting on a pillow of white crepe paper that he knew was leftover from one of Chris’s class projects that he helped to construct. His key. The one that Chris insisted that they paint the thumb end of, so everyone knew whose key it was, was the same blue as the ring that he had attached to Eddie’s key to his own apartment.

“This is my key. I thought I lost it. What are you two up to?” He asked even though he was already putting the clues together, but he wanted a verbal confirmation of what this gift represented.

“Did you want to ask him Chris?” Eddie asked, moving to stand behind his son with his hands resting atop his shoulders, clearly as excited as Chris was about what was about to be asked.

“Bucky, will you move in with us? O-officially.”

Buck couldn’t stop the sting of happy tears prick at his eyes or keep the wide grin that threatened to split his face. “It would be my honour to move in with you.”

Opening his arms wide, he invited Chris for a hug who instantly fell into his chest wholeheartedly. Looking up over his head, Buck looked at Eddie’s glowing face and reached around Chris to take hold of his wrist to drag him down and make the hug and them complete.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Waking up the next morning, Buck revelled in the domesticity of the moment, sharing the bed with the man that he loves; In the place that he could confidently call home without any further hesitation even though in his mind he’d been calling it that for some time. Everything was perfect and felt so, so right. He knew that nothing had really changed considering that he had been practically living in the Diaz household but it felt different, there was a permanence to it now.

He watched as Eddie slumbered, a much more peaceful and restful version of the man than what he used to be when they first started sleeping in the same bed, no longer on high alert on their days off. Now, Eddie woke sluggishly uninhibited by expectation, knowing that there was no hurry to awaken while Buck was present beside him.

At some point, they left the comforts of the bed and migrated to the kitchen, where Chris would join them from the living room have been watching tv while he waited for them to wake. In the kitchen, he would begin preparing them a cooked breakfast, a common occurrence for when they have the luxury of having a morning together while Eddie moved around him to make the coffee.

With May’s graduation party in the afternoon, they eventually got dressed, doing their best not to dress too similarly but still end up deciding on the same colour scheme. And then, as with the last few gatherings they had been to, the three of them arrived together at the Grant-Nash household in Eddie’s truck.

And with that happiness that came with the day before, Buck found him celebrating and being even more affectionate and open than usual, riding on the excitable energy of everyone around him. Through it all he did eventually find himself seeking out Bobby, remembering what he said on the train and didn’t get the chance to address it in his office after the fact.

With the din of the music at their backs, he joined Bobby on the deck, hands in his pockets, “Hey, um, I just wanted to apologise, f- for the train.”

Bobby just waved away the apology with a shake of his head, “Look it’s alright, we both got a little hot. You doing okay?”

A grin took over at his face as he turned to Bobby, thinking about the previous day, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good.”

With his thoughts on Eddie and Chris, he corrected himself, “Actually, you know what? I know I am. I’m moving in with Eddie and Chris, they just asked me yesterday.”

“That’s great news Buck,” with that, Bobby offered his hand in congratulations before pulling him in for a hug. Buck sunk into it finding a parental comfort in the embrace and feeling like everything in his life was finally falling into place.  

** ** ** ** ** ** **

And so, with him now living with Diaz pair, it was time for him to start the process of ending the lease to his apartment. He had a month to pack his things and sell what furniture he would no longer need, which was most if not all of it.

Boxes were gradually transported between the two locations with Chris helping with the packing and unpacking of the small bits and pieces that he had which decorated the apartment. Chris became the deciding force of what he should keep, even if he didn’t think he needed to keep them and helped find a home for them in the house, wanting to make the space his as much as theirs.

They only had a couple of weeks with him though, before he set out for the long-awaited camp, leaving a card with the two of them as they saw him off, decorated in hearts and stating simply:

You are going to have a Great Time.

Love, Christopher.

Eventually, through their days off, they had the last of his clothes packed in a bag and the last box was sealed, with the last of the bigger items from the bedroom finally sold and ready to be picked up by the buyers in the following days.

“I can’t believe this is it,” Buck said, sitting on the floor of the now empty apartment, Eddie sitting across from him finishing sealing the box, having let himself into the apartment like always only a couple of hours ago with a new roll of packing tape.

With the box sealed, Eddie propped his elbow up on the box before him, resting his face in his hand with a soft smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

“Absolutely not. Never in a million years.” He breathed, finding himself staring love-struck into Eddie’s eyes. They sit like that for longer than was necessary, faces only a couple inches apart and bodies separated by the box between them.

Eventually, he broke the silence huffing a chuckle to himself, reminded of something Eddie once said.

“What?” Eddie asked good naturedly, a laugh bubbling on the words as he spoke.

Buck propped his head upon his hand, mirroring Eddie, “Are my eyes twinkling like the stars, Eds? Cause yours right now are shining like the sun, they do that when you’re happy, did you know?”

“Oh my god!” Groaned Eddie, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment, “That was so long ago, Buck! I can’t believe I said that, and honestly, I had I hoped you wouldn’t remember.”  

“How could I forget!” Buck quietly exclaimed, bemused by the flush creeping up Eddie’s neck and warming his face, “You were far too cute saying whatever you were thinking, Mr astronaut. I’m surprised that you remember though, you were still so far gone at that point.”

“Don’t remind me, that was still the weirdest hangover I’ve ever woken up to. Not to mention the fact that you not only took off my boots for me, but you also plugged in my phone, set an alarm and left a message explaining what happened.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to sleep the day away or wake up confused, let alone do it all while still wearing your boots in bed!”

“Even back then when I was just your friend from work, you cared that much,” Eddie mused, wonder in his eyes.

Buck shrugged bashfully, “I just did what anyone one would do.”

“The fact that you think that--” Eddie shook his head, “The way you care about people is just one of the things I love most about you.”

Eddie groaned as he stood up, stretching his legs before stepping around the box and reached down to him, “Now, come on, it’s time we finished up here and take these boxes home.”

With a soft smile on his lips, Buck placed his hands in Eddie’s and let him haul him to his feet. They took the last of the boxes home, leaving the apartment completely empty, and unpacked them, and 3 days later they were dropping their apartment keys off at the realtor, making it well and truly final.  

It was strange to think that all that time ago when they first gave each other their key that they would end up here. Using them rarely for that intended reason of it being an emergency key before their use quickly evolved into something more intimate. That the key to their home was no longer used for emergencies but became an extension to their hearts instead.

*

*

*

And to think that Buck marked the day that the Diaz’s asked him to move in and mirrored it exactly a year later using a similar box that they presented the key in, having re-commissioned Christopher to reprise his role of decorating another one. except this time, it didn’t have a key but a very special ring instead.

Buck barely got the question out before Eddie was already saying yes.

[jcmorrigan]

more Blakeworther headcanons!! i want you to go ham with em too!! :D

Go ham, huh? So...I probably went the opposite direction of what you wanted or expected. But I just read “Our Coffin Is a Twin-Sized Bed” (Blakeworth fic, REALLY ANGSTY) and I loved it but it also made me very depressed. Anyway, it put the idea of CHARACTER DEATH in my head, and so I’m like...what if you took Vincent, Victor, and Albert, and you have an AU where each one of them dies, and how would the other two react?

Except I want to have my cake and eat it too. That prompt on its own is a bit...disheartening. So I had to treat myself by saying that each time, the death was actually a fakeout, and whoever “died” turns up just fine later. Which made for extra reunion headcanons!

Get ready for: the one where each one of them “dies” and the other two grieve in their own special way, only for the “dead” to have been fine the whole time

VINCENT

·      They were setting up bombs in a facility owned by Myers, hoping to bring down one of the bigwigs – possibly Monseiur M himself – in the explosion. Albert and Victor finished their rounds, then came back outside to wait for Vincent. Vincent radioed that he was almost finished – and then the whole building went up in smoke.

·      It took Victor and Albert a few minutes to process what had happened. He…he had to have gotten out, right? There’s no way Vincent would die on this mission.

·      But he doesn’t show up.

·      Watching the conflagration, agape and wide-eyed, Victor and Albert reach out to draw each other closer, hoping it just isn’t what it looks like.

·      Eventually, there are sirens, and they have to escape back to the mansion.

·      Albert finds the nearest piece of furniture he can sit on, sinks down, and starts sobbing. It doesn’t help that this is HIS house they’re living in, this is HIS chair Albert’s crying on, and he’s not even here.

·      I’m not actually sure if Victor’s eyes have tear ducts, but he is similarly distraught. He sits down beside Albert, trying to reassure him, “We’ll be okay. He’d want us to keep going. We’ll…we’ll be fine…”

·      His voice cracks. He can’t deal with this. Now he’s holding onto Albert not only for the sake of comforting him but of getting comforted.

·      They rattle around Vincent’s house for the next few days, utterly depressed. Everywhere they go, every corner they turn, they’re reminded of the spaces where he’s not.

·      Albert is caught talking to himself – and berating himself in a bad imitation of Vincent in order to simulate their arguments. Victor can only listen for so long before he’s too emotional and has to leave.

·      “You promised me you wouldn’t do this,” Victor says as he kneads a bedsheet between his fingers.

·      Eventually, the two of them hold a small service. They construct Vincent a grave out back in the yard. Each says a few words –

·      Victor: “I still don’t regret it. Not a day.”

·      Albert: “If you think I wanted to win our rivalry this way…you were wrong. I’d give anything to have you back.”

·      When behind them they suddenly hear “If I’d’ve known you two would get this morose, I wouldn’t have bothered to plant those explosives in the first place.”

·      They turn around, and…he’s here. Vincent’s here, looking quite grumpy.

·      “I thought it would be fairly obvious that I wasn’t dead. You two really went all out on this?”

·      Albert: “You’re not an exact replica with Vincent’s memories, are you? Actually, I have no problem if you’re an exact replica with Vincent’s memories.”

·      Victor and Albert run to him, embrace him tightly. Vincent’s rolling his eyes because these idiots got themselves worked up for nothing – but he’s lying if he says he isn’t really, really touched by how much they missed him. He’ll have to be careful not to make them worry in the future.

 VICTOR

·      Assassins have the mansion surrounded. Victor urges Albert and Vincent to go on ahead without him. He’ll catch up. But first he has to buy them time.

·      Albert and Vincent head to a motel three towns over – only to hear that the mansion was cleared out, then raided by authorities, and after the cyborgs were put down, no living people remained in the house.

·      “No,” Vincent says. “He’s fine. He’s FINE.” And he won’t hear otherwise.

·      Not even after a week.

·      Albert is starting to grieve, but Vincent keeps yelling at him, “STOP! HE ISN’T GONE! YOU’RE BEING AN IDIOT!”

·      Vincent is angrier than Albert has ever seen him in his whole life. The more days go by that Victor hasn’t turned up, the edgier Vincent’s mood gets.

·      Albert has to lock himself in the bathroom if he wants to cry it out.

·      But he also knows enough about psychology that he knows Vincent has to be dying inside. “Vincent, you need to talk about what happened.”

·      “You’re not even a real psychologist. Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

·      At one point, it gets so bad that Vincent locks Albert out of the motel room and refuses to let him in, no matter how much noise he makes.

·      That’s when the notes start showing up. The door’s definitely locked, but Vincent finds notes around the motel room that definitely weren’t there a moment ago.

·      “I love you. ~AK” “I’m worried about you! ~AK” “Vincent, talk to me. ~AK” “I know many fates worse than death. Do you want to push me that far? ~AK” “Please, Vincent, I need you. ~AK” “Fine. Die alone. ~AK” “I take back my last note. Don’t die alone. I love you. ~AK”

·      So eventually Vincent lets him back in, and Albert suggests, one final time, to have Vincent sit through a legitimate therapy session. No Dream Eaters, no tricks, no shell game. And Vincent agrees.

·      Vincent lies down on the bed. Albert sits on a chair beside him and starts asking questions – about Victor, about the memories they had, about what Victor means to them both.

·      Vincent slowly recalls their entire history – laughing, crying, smiling. And by the end of it, he’s outright sobbing.

·      “How can someone who was such a big part of our lives be gone, Albert?”

·      And in a historical first, Albert actually lies down on the bed to cuddle Vincent, stroke his hair, and tell him “I miss him too. So much. It’s okay. Just cry.”

·      Eventually, they get a message from Winston, saying he has some important information and “cargo” to trade to them if they meet at a rendez-vous point. So they agree. Albert and Vincent head to the alley around midnight to find Winston and…a man in a black hood.

·      He throws back the hood. It’s Victor, whose metal eyes are twinkling. “Miss me?”

·      All of Vincent’s psychological work is undone; he just says “I knew you weren’t dead.” Albert, on the other hand, TACKLES Victor at unprecedented speed and pins him to the street.

·      Once Albert lets him go, Victor goes up to Vincent, and the two of them hold each other’s gaze. They kiss, briefly. That’s all they need to put closure on this.

 ALBERT

·      He doesn’t come home from a walk one night. Instead, a Dream Eater shows up and hands Vincent and Victor a letter.

·      “My beloved Victor and my frustratingly wonderful Vincent, if you are receiving this letter, it means you are not likely to see me again in this lifetime. I have run afoul of enemy forces, and, well, I’ll finally get to see what murder looks like from the other side. I want to thank you for the laughter and tears you both have given me, and for the good times and the bad. I hope you’ll remember me fondly, or at least as a memorable nuisance. With all of my love, goodbye. -Dr. Albert Gerald Krueger”

·      This is a joke, right? Victor’s convinced it’s a joke, and Vincent insists this is exactly the kind of prank Albert would find funny…

·      Until a month passes and he hasn’t come back.

·      Vincent takes a stance: “We never needed him. It was always just you and me from the start, Victor. We can return to our roots. He was always just an extra.”

·      Victor: “I know you don’t want to admit you miss him, but that was heartless, Vincent.”

·      The two of them end up fighting, sleeping on opposite sides of the mansion for days.

·      Victor tries to drink the pain away. (It happens in all three of these scenarios, actually, but this one’s plot-relevant)

·      One night, he wakes up at three and decides he’s not drunk enough. So he shuffles down to the bar and…there’s Vincent? Already drinking?

·      Victor decides to bite; “What’s all this for?”

·      Vincent turns to Victor, and Victor can now see he’s been crying for a while. “I can’t keep this up much longer, Victor. The two of us were happy before he broke in…why can’t I be happy? Why do I still miss him so much? Why can’t I just function?”

·      Ah. Now Victor knows it is definitely about Vincent not wanting to admit he misses Albert or even liked him. Because here’s Vincent just distraught without Albert.

·      Victor sits down by Vincent. Pours himself a drink. “We can’t erase him, but we can dull the memories for a night.”

·      It’s a miracle they don’t die of alcohol poisoning that night. They toast Albert’s memory, and at one point, Victor, a little out of his mind already, just poured a whole bottle of brandy on the floor in his honor.

·      Then, a couple days later, they’re trying to figure out how they’re going to break this to Taylor. They’ve avoided Taylor for so long so they didn’t have to bring this up.

·      There’s a knock on the door. Vincent gets up with trepidation, gun in hand because he’s not sure who it’ll be. Victor follows, ready to throw down.

·      The door swings open…

·      Albert: “I apologize. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” And he’s smiling like he’s just a couple hours late, not a whole month and change in which the other two thought he was dead. “What did I miss?”

·      There’s a silence as Victor and Vincent gape. Then Victor breaks into a wide smile; “Alb – “

·      Vincent DECKS ALBERT IN THE FACE.

·      Albert, on the ground, says “I deserved that.”

·      Vincent: “How could you do that to me? How could you tear me apart? How could you make me so empty inside over someone like YOU? How could you make it hurt so badly to love you?”

·      He’s getting rather emotional, a tear or two falling, and Albert realizes that Vincent actually…missed him. And the immense potential for blackmail this will bring.

·      Victor steps forward to help him up off the ground. Pulls Albert into a too-tight hug in the process. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

·      Then they head inside because Albert kinda needs an ice pack for the eye Vincent hit now.