#i wasn’t expecting the absolute DOWNPOUR of tears

[miniskirtandgogoboots]

me tonight, unexpectedly

[h8ani]

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 3.3k

Warnings - fem!reader, slight overstimulation, fingering, oral (female receiving)

A/N - after months of having this in my notebook I finally finished it T.T I just wanna say thank you to everyone for liking part 1 & 2 of this and I hope you enjoy this just as much! I didn't expect to make multiple parts for this but I lowkey already have ideas for more parts if anyone is enjoying it enough to want more!

taglist! - @kkittycries @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

The door of your apartment slams as you trudge in, the sloshing of your shoes, soaked with the rain from the downpour that just drenched you outside. You dart for the couch, grabbing the closest pillow and quickly shoving your face into it and letting out a scream that would have alerted the neighbors in some way if it wasn’t muffled.

All day something has gone wrong, if it wasn’t one thing it was surely the next. It’s as if the gods above were playing games with you just to see how much you could handle before you undoubtedly snapped. 

Waking up late wouldn’t have been such a bother if it wasn’t for the meeting with the Hokage you had. You had a performance review about the latest mission you were just on and no shock to you, it brought up how bad of a screw-up you must’ve been because all that was said was everything you did wrong. You were reprimanded for that along with your tardiness to the meeting, on top of that you never ate breakfast because of the rush you were in. Deciding after the meeting ramen would be the perfect meal to drown in your sorrows and finally get something in your system, only to realize that being in such a rush you absentmindedly forgot your coin purse. Deciding to finally leave and go back home, Mother Nature wanted to make sure you got there quickly and started a downpour just for you. Being soaked from head to toe was something every girl just needed, and so, here you are. 

The frustration building inside of you makes every inch of your body feel like it might explode, tears threaten to spill past your bottom lashes and onto your cheeks but you refuse to cry and give in to the absolute shit show of a day you’ve endured. Your throat constricts while you take a deep breath, as you exhale the subtle sound of your doorknob twisting is heard, the door opens slightly, and before you can think your fingers fumble with your kunai, quickly throwing it and seeing it lodge into the wall next to the door. 

Sasuke walks in to stop as he sees you, glancing at the kunai and then back at you. His eyes scan your body, seeing you sopping wet with a puddle of water soaking your once dry carpet, you were frowning at him and your eyes were slightly red even as you blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “Bad day?” He comes inside, locking the door once it's been shut. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” Your voice was small yet still croaked as you spoke. He nods, not saying anything more as he makes his way towards you, hands gripping your wrist and tugging you back towards your room. Immediately you start to pull your wrist back albeit weakly. “Not that kinda bad day.” 

“I figured as much.” He shrugs his jacket off and tosses it on your bed, if you had the energy you’d scoff at how he’s making it seem as if this was his room. 

“No I mean-”

“Can you shut up for a second?” He interjects while waving a hand in your direction, ignoring the glare you shoot at him as he walks to your bathroom. He disappears for a moment until you hear the shower turn on. Once again making himself feel at home. You open your mouth to call to him when he reappears, hand beckoning you over.

Against your better judgment, you move towards him, feet seemingly having a mind of their own, and follow him into your bathroom. The steam that was already filling the small bathroom gave you a warm hug of warmth, not realizing how cold you were from the rain. A content sigh leaves your lips accepting the new damp warmth you felt. 

“Wanna tell me what got you like this?” He asks while pulling his shirt off and dropping it at your feet. Confusion crosses your features as he continues to undress in front of you, the heat from the steam leaving and going straight to your face, you jerk your head away from him as you mumble a half ass answer about how it’s raining outside. You hear the rest of his clothes fall against the tile floor as he discards them all, quickly kicking them to the side so your wet ones don’t drip on his. 

“How are you not wet? The weather outside is awful.” You ask, head still turned away to not look at him, still unsure as to why he decided to strip. It’s not like you haven’t seen him but the close proximity and eye contact are still something you weren’t used to. 

“It’s called an umbrella, the clouds were dark, and it was obvious it was going to rain. You’d have to be blind to not see that.” You snap your head to glare at him which turned to sudden wide eyes as he was fully naked in front of you. Your eyes wander from his chest down to his toned stomach and venture further until- “Eyes up here.” He smirks when he sees the flush of your face. 

“Why am I even in here?” 

“We’re going to shower, you need to relax.”

“I- we- huh?” You stutter out, the gears in your head coming to a halt while you look at him as if a second head grew out of his neck. Sasuke rolls his eyes and slips his fingers under the bottom of your top and tugs it off and over your head, it drops to the floor with a loud splat sound from the rainwater soaked in it. 

“I said you needed to relax, now shut up, stop asking questions, and take your pants off.”

“God you’re such a-”

“Yeah whatever, just hurry up before the hot water runs out.” 

Once again, against your better judgment, you listen to him, your clothes are off and discarded with your shirt, a small pool of water creating around it. Soon you’re stepping into your shower first, the heat of the water relaxing your sore and aching body and warming you up in an instant. You audibly sigh and allow your eyes to close just feeling the water beat and fall down your chest like a steady stream. 

Sasuke is soon after you, hands finding a place on your waist, the subtle squeeze making your body freeze up as if the water had turned frigid. “Relax, Jesus it’s just me.” Sasuke says, you can feel the huff of his breath on the back of your neck which does nothing to calm you down. 

Relax? It’s just me? That’s exactly the reason why you couldn’t, the sole fact that if you two weren’t fucking then what was the point of being here? What was the point of this? This was too nice for him, too intimate. 

His hands slide from your waist up to your shoulders and feel his thumbs press down and slowly rub, easily bringing you back from your thoughts. “You’re tense.”

“When am I not?” You joke, amusement evident as it was so obvious you’ve never been a relaxed person. The expectations are always so high for you even from such a young age, even now with so many responsibilities on your plate the urge to sleep and ignore it all is so heavy. 

Sasuke doesn’t respond, thumbs pushing down deeper into your muscles massaging out all of the tenseness you have. You lean back against his chest, eyes shutting once again and letting a sigh escape your lips. His hands go down your back keeping the pressure to work out the rest of your body. “Fuck..” You whimper.

“There we go..” His fingers dig into your lower back finding the place where you melt into him, you lean your head back against his shoulder and sigh contentedly. 

“Thank you for this.” You say quietly, barely heard over the stream of water coming from your shower head. It was a soft moment, both of you two never uttering anything other than foul comments to one another, always making sure the next word hurt more than the last, yet here you were; eyes closed and guard down against the chest of someone you couldn’t stand to look at when you were kids. 

“Shut up.” His chest rises as he scoffs before dipping down to kiss your shoulder. “You looked a mess when I got here.” 

Ignoring his comment, you bend forward to turn the heat up higher, you soon turn around to face him, his hair is damp and his cheeks are flushed from the steamy air. He didn’t have his signature grimace that always laid upon his face, being this close where the tension wasn’t filled with anger was…different. 

His hands made their way back to your waist, squeezing the soft plush of your skin. The air; although thick with vapor, was brittle as a crisp autumn leaf, so fragile it could break if you breathed, and if it didn't snap you felt like you just might. Neither of you speaks, you fumble with your fingers, unsure if you should lay them on him as he has his on you. 

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, his hand slid to the back of your neck tugging you closer, a quiet “Come here.” leaving his lips before he was on yours. 

Unknowing if it’s because of the intimacy of being in the shower together and the vulnerability it gave off, but the kiss emitted every little bit of exposure you felt. His hands held onto you tightly while yours lay upon his chest. Collectively, a sigh left you both; unspoken words left between you both and died on each other's tongue.

~~ 

You feel the cool sheets against your warm skin as you plop yourself on your bed, the fluffy pajama bottoms you now have on bringing an added level of cozy you oh so needed to your day. You finally felt relaxed; cold, damp clothes soon forgotten as well as the ravenette who stood behind you. Your mind was mulled over with the sudden leisure that you couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you when Sasuke’s cold hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down the length of your bed. You turn to look at him when his lips come crashing into your own, soft lips pressing hard while you melt into his touch, kissing Sasuke has started to feel familiar, a comfort in kissing his lips and knowing how the other works. 

One of his hands comes up to take place at your throat, slightly squeezing to elicit a small whimper from you. Just like you feeling familiarity in his lips he feels the same in knowing just how you’d react, feeling just as if he knows a part of you. His hand slips to the back of your neck pulling you closer, tongue slipping in and claiming your mouth for his own. His kisses become hungrier, more passionate. Fingers tilting your chin up so your throat is now exposed, he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and descends further down your neck. You become putty to his mouth as he finds your sweet spot, another whine leaves your lips only igniting him further.

His hands leave your neck and grip onto your waist pulling you to him and grinding your hips into his erection. Every whine and whimper that leaves your mouth sends every impulse in him into overdrive. “Still having a bad day?” He breathes out, lips ghosting over the sensitive mark he just created.

“It could be better.” You giggle, legs instinctively pulling him even closer to your clothed core. He smirks against the skin of your neck while hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama bottoms, you lift your hips allowing him to tug them off. He shifts himself down until he’s on his knees at the foot of your bed, he tugs you down to the edge of your bed until he’s at eye level with your already glistening core. Strong hands push your thighs until they’re pressed against your chest, a low growl reverberating in his chest. You’re this wet just from a few simple kisses, how pathetic. 

His head dips down and licks through your slick, lips attaching to your clit and sucking causing your hips to buck in his mouth. He chuckles, the vibration pulsing your entire lower half as your hand shoots to his still-damp hair, your fingers thread and slightly tug while he circles his tongue. A quiet moan leaves your lips causing his eyes to shoot up and look at you, he sees your eyes closed; his tongue relieving you of all your stressors from the day. The small whimpers you let out only make his gaze darker, hungrier for you. 

“I know you can be louder than that.” He says as he pulls back. Finally, you look down at him and see his black eyes boring into you, he sees your eyes glossy and lips slightly parted, he hasn’t even made you cum yet and you’re already like this, but that doesn’t stop the pout that forms on your face. Your hand tightens its grip on his hair and tugs his face closer to your heat. 

“Keep going-”

“Be louder, I want to hear you.” His words are demanding, making you jut your lip out in a pout once more. “Be louder or I’ll leave.” You huff a breath and look away from him only to feel a quick slap to your thigh causing you to yelp and snap your head right back to him. No words being said between the both of you but you know it was a threat. His head dips back down sinking further as he keeps his eyes trained on yours while running his tongue through your slick core, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure to evoke a slurry of curse words from your mouth. Your hips move and grind against his tongue, your hand tugging roughly at his hair causing him to groan into you. Thumb now leaves your clit and quickly replaces it with his mouth, his skillful tongue circling and flicking, having you clench down on nothing. Your whimpers turn to moans and now his name is the only thing you’re able to say. 

You orgasm without warning, fingers tightening even more in his locks while your thighs trap him. A choked-out moan is heard loudly in his ears, another groan vibrates your body as he laps up all of your juices, his skillful tongue sending shivers up your spine as he doesn’t pull away while you ride your high. 

Once the oversensitivity set in you squirm in his grip, legs planting down to try and push away from him but his arms quickly hook under your thighs and spread you wider for him, giving him even more access to your pussy. His lips suck harshly around your clit extracting a high pitch squeal from you. “Sasuke!” Your once woven fingers in his hair were now pushing him away, the oversensitivity having tears prick your waterline, it was beginning to feel too much, too much pleasure building up right after you just came. 

Sasuke was eating you like he was starved, the lewd and wet sounds coming from where his mouth connected with your pussy were all that could be heard. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten again and your legs tremble, a silent indicator you were so close only minutes after your first orgasm. 

As if he could read your mind and body so easily, Sasuke pushes two fingers in and pumps them at a quick pace, curling them as he does so. You’re shaking, his fingers hitting your g-spot again and again and again-

Your eyes roll back while you cum, your body tensing up and your head being thrown and pressed back into your mattress as you moan loudly. Once your body loosens up and legs go limp he finally pulls away. 

The bed dips down as he climbs up your body, a cheeky smile plastered on his face when he sees the fucked out look on yours, a sense of pride filling his chest up to know he got you like this just from his tongue alone. Your eyes settled on his, trailing down to see his lips and chin coated in your slick. 

Your chest rises with heavy breaths, eyes weary as you slowly blink up at him, the subtle tint of your face changing when catching his own eyes already looking down at yours. 

His eyes scan your face, seeing how you divert your own away from him while trying to regain your breath. It’s funny, he did all the work and you’re the one out of breath. Sasuke fits himself more comfortably in between your legs, laying more of his weight on you as you both just relax in silence. 

He can’t help but look at you in a different light, when he first came over months ago he didn’t know what got ahold of him. He was the last person you wanted to see and vice versa, but that didn’t stop him from barging in, he was always watching the village in one way or another, whether it was from word of mouth by someone or when he could sneak away, somehow whenever the latter happened you were always one of the first people he happened to catch sight of. 

It was annoying. 

He felt the irritation run up his neck when he saw you, the way you’d walk almost as if your nose was in the air, thinking you were better than him, better than everyone around you. Just seeing you from a distance he couldn’t stand, it’s like the same little girl he remembered back then was still in his head, glaring at him and calling him all the insults under the sun whenever he jabbed at you, but when he finally saw you he couldn’t help but be a little happy to see that same signature scowl that appeared on your face. 

That first night he didn’t even come to fuck you, that was the last thing that he would have thought would happen, but when push literally came to shove against that damn wall his body took over, all the pent-up frustrations between you two over the years hitting the breaking point. 

He can’t lie and say nothing has changed since he started coming over more frequently. He wasn’t supposed to be sneaking back into the village, he wasn’t meant to be seeing you so much, having moments like this. It’s easier to say he doesn’t give a damn about you, that it’s just the sex that keeps bringing him back, but when he does something so out of character as he did today he can’t help but feel like he should’ve just fucked you and left; pushed your bad day to the side, ignore your borderline broken figure and used you to his liking. He’s no nurturer, far from it yet he still worked your sore muscles out and had you cum till you were dizzy. 

“This won’t happen again.” He thinks to himself. He can’t come back, he won’t. This will be the last time you see him and he sees you. The last time he feels your soft skin against him, fingers dancing across his back and playing with the hair while you both calm down. The last time you see his eyes staring back at you, different emotions each time and never knowing which one it is. 

He’s convinced himself of it, never again.

But when you bat your pretty little eyes like you’re doing right now he can’t help but mentally curse himself as he finds himself leaning down to press his lips against yours. 

He knows he’s going to come back.

He knows it and he can’t help but hate you for it. 

networks: @enchantedforest-network / @bitchcraftinc / @ghostqueue

[literary-motif]

Pleaseeeeee can we get part 2 of Midas? And please don't make it angst. Just Darling and Andrew making up (making out👀-) .

Midas II

Andrew Marston x Reader

How could I possibly continue this story without making it angst? I tried my best, but there is a large portion of tears due to the tone of the first part.

Part I

You did not make it far. The discussion had occupied your mind to the point that you did not realize the raging thunderstorm outside. As soon as you got to the front door of your apartment complex, you froze, staring into the dark scenery of a cold, wet London. 

The water on the pavement reflected the orange glow of the streetlights. You would have brushed it off as the water in your own eyes, distorting your vision as you felt the crack in your heart solidifying into a permanent scar — but then it thundered, the sound so sudden and ringing loudly through the air that it startled you. 

Still, the anger and hurt in your chest was stronger. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at the rain. What now? You had half a mind to walk into the downpour, screw it all to hell and back, you were angry. 

What did rain change now? What did it matter if you had forgotten to grab your jacket? What did it matter that you did not have an umbrella, your partner thought you were stupid! 

Maybe you were. He surely wasn’t. Maybe you were. 

“Screw it,” you muttered, taking a step outside. Lightning flashed across the sky, the brightness making your head snap up. Thunder followed immediately, and you froze. Of course, you were in the epicenter of the thunderstorm. Of course just when you had no intention of being close to Andrew — for once — the only place to be was near him. 

This felt like a cosmic joke. 

You took a deep breath, trying to turn the burning in your blood to chilling coldness instead. Walking up the steps to your shared flat, you reminded yourself that he did not need to see you cry, reminded yourself that continuing screaming insults at one another would not resolve anything, reminded yourself that this would pass. 

It was an argument, and although it did not feel like it at the moment, you knew that you loved Andrew enough to forgive him for everything he said, and you hoped he had it in him to forgive you as well. There was a grain of truth to every insult, you supposed, but what was said in the heat of passion could never be taken at face value. 

The rational part of your brain told you that Andrew knew that, too, but there was a very distinct voice in your head that told you he absolutely despised you now. You lingered in front of the door, clutching your key. The keychain rattled, a little felt heart he had made for you in your favorite color. 

“Home is where the heart is,” he had said, presenting it to you with a hesitant smile. His eyes had spoken volumes on just how much that statement meant to him, genuine in his declaration that you were now his home. Coming from Andrew, a person who had never much felt at home anywhere since his early childhood, this simple sentence had made you tear up. 

You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath. Half of the things you had spit at him had fled your mind already. What had you said in the heat of the moment? 

Your hand trembled as you pushed the key into the lock, hesitating before opening the door and not daring to raise your gaze before you stepped inside, closing it again behind you. 

Andrew stood stock still where you had left him. His eyes were wide, filled with unshed tears. 

“Andrew?” you asked, unsure what to do. Your immediate urge — gathering him in your arms and guiding his head to lean against your shoulder to comfort him — seemed unfitting. You were the reason he was crying, and somehow that realization hurt more than you had expected when you had wanted to make tears gather in his eyes. 

“Darling?” he asked, his voice so small it made your heart seize. He looked lost, a second away from breaking apart completely. “Please don’t— don’t leave—”  he broke off with a strangled sob. The spell was broken. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around himself, slumping together as if he would collapse any moment. 

You moved before you were conscious of it, embracing him tightly to keep him from sinking to the ground. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” you murmured, feeling your own tears return as he buried his face in your shoulder, choking on his sobs as he desperately clung to you. “Hey, hey.”

“I’m so— so—” he hiccuped, shaky breaths forcing their way out of him.

“I’ve got you, Andrew. I’m not leaving, alright? Breathe.”

“Promise?” he asked, a sudden desperation in his voice that made a bitter taste appear on your tongue. “Promise? Dar— Dar–ling? Promise?” Why was that?

Your eyes widened, the reminder of his brother walking out, slamming the door shut on his abusive parents, old life and golden brother hitting you like a punch to the gut. A slap would have hurt less, and you found your arms tightening their hold on Andrew in the split second it took for you to realize that this had reminded him of the greatest loss he had suffered in his life.

“I swear,” you said with as much conviction as your trembling voice could convey. “I love you. I love you.” 

The strangled sigh of relief coming from him hurt nearly as much as his sobs, and when Andrew slumped against you, slowly starting to calm down as you ran your hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings to make him calm down, you felt the anger at his words pale in comparison to the pain at seeing him like this. 

“I love you, too,” he mumbled once his breathing evened out, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “I love you so much, and I don’t— I don’t know why I—”

You loosened the embrace, making Andrew look up. You cupped his cheek, tilting his head to kiss him. “Not today,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling him shudder. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I— I can’t do it today. Just— I’m sorry. Please, let’s just” — your arms tightened, pulling him closer — “just—”

Andrew crashed his lips to yours, kissing you like you were the air he desperately needed to breathe. There was an urgency in his kiss that you had never felt before, a heartbreaking desperation as if he needed to reassure himself that you were here with him, that you were real, and his. 

Your fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck, gently caressing the soft strands while his embrace on you loosened. He leaned back, taking off his glasses before bringing his lips to yours again and tightening his hold.

There was a lot to talk about. Words — both said, never to be erased, and unsaid, ready to spill from you both like waterfalls — hung heavy in the air between you. For now though, when the tears were not yet dried and the shaking had yet to cease, you found comfort in each other. 

Words could wait until sunrise. Tonight, actions spoke.

[jesuisstay]

Pull It From My Teeth

Non-Idol!Lino x Best friend!reader

Genre: agnst then fluff

Warnings: breakup, mentions of drinking and food

W.C : 5.1k

————————————————————————-

Drip

Drip

Drip

A small puddle was forming underneath you now, the carpet becoming visibly damp.

Drip

Drip

Drip

The call button taunted as you stared blankly at your phone screen. Your first instinct mocking you in this moment as you read the name over and over.

Drip

Another teardrop splattered on your screen, join the collection of previous tears and rain drops. This one piercing the mark to blur out the name of the contact.

The blaring of the taxi cab’s horn jolts you from your pity party momentarily. At least enough to slide in the backseat and mindlessly give out an address. There was no way you would be able to explain over the phone.

Not after everything. He doesn’t have to deal with this anyway. You wouldn’t blame him if he slammed the door in you face for the inconvenience, for any pain you might stir up.

All you could do now is be happy you were out of the downpour, even if the last 10 minutes in the rain left you drenched beyond hope.

Everything was reflexive. The sway of your body with the cab, swiping your card and thanking the driver. all done without the smallest ounce of recognition. It wasn’t until you hit the call button for the apartment you snapped out of your trance again. The light flashed as you waited for the owner to answer.

This is how shops must feel at night, desperately hoping the lighthouse will bring them back to safety.

Back to home.

“What?” The gruff voice answered, clearly not expecting someone to bug them this late at night.

“Hey, it’s me. Can I come up?” Your voice was so distorted from attempting to hold back tears you doubt that he would be able to recognize it as your’s.

You didn’t think that he did, the line clicking close without the front door popping open. Back against the wall, you sank to the wet concrete. The only thought in your mind being to try and stay as dry as possible.

Then you heard it, the fateful click of the lock disengaging. Familiar house slippers came into view as you heard an audible gasp. Daring to look up, your heart toiled even more at the sight of him.

Minho.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He crouched down onto the ground, eye glittering in the reflection of the puddles around.

“I think we both know why.” God you felt absolutely pathetic like this. But as he tipped your chin up with two of his fingers to look you in the eyes, the tears started spilling faster and faster.

Any semblance of your mental stability was hanging in his hands. With how you two fell out, you wouldn’t blame him for turning you away. But with his hand leaving your face and instead yanking at the zipper of his hoodie and shrugging it off before draping it over your shoulders. Hands wrapping around your elbows now, he helps you stand and fishes his keys from the pocket of his sweats.

“Let’s get you inside and run you a warm bath. I think you might still have some clothes here.”

Sitting here on Minho’s couch, your favorite blanket of his wrapped around you while Soonie snuggles into your lap, felt normal to the bone but the crawling under your skin persisted. The last time you were in this position, everything was perfect until it felt like it was all crashing around you. Everything is exactly the same, down to the sounds of Minho in the kitchen preparing a drink and snack for you.

In attempts to rid yourself of the ache forming in your heart, you devote your attention to the furry baby in your lap doing his best to mimic a jackhammer with his purring. In mere seconds you found his favorite spot for scratches on his chin and ears.

Abruptly shuffled steps break you out of your trance, eyes locking with Minho as he brings over the tea tray with a look that you could only describe as disbelief.

“Looks like someone made themselves comfortable really quick. Sorry if you track any orange fur home. By now you’ve probably lost most of it from your clothing.” He sets the tray down on the table and begins pouring, stopping to swirl a drop of honey into your’s. How does he still remember how you take your nighttime tea?

“Hate to break it to you, but Soon’s fur is very persistent. I still have some hoodies with his fur woven in.” You smile fondly down at him, convinced that he preened a little at the comment as he rolls onto his side to stare at his dad, settling down a couch cushion away.

The distance was a chasm between your bodies. Personal space hardly ever existed between the two of you. A small ache grows for the past, when you would be touching shoulder to knee as he fussed enough to get half his share of the blanket.

“Yeah, try living with them.” He takes a sip of tea, seemingly to ready himself before looking back at you. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I know how Min.” Fuck you were really about to start crying, again. You had finally finished wiping the last of your tears in the shower.

“Just start with what led you back here today? Was it something specific?” You could see the longing in his eyes he was trying to cover, his own pain and hope blinking through.

“I-I caught him…with someone in our bed.” Once you choked the words out, the flood gate was opened. You spilled everything from the past few months. Everything post-Minho came out a roaring stream that you highly doubt was anywhere near coherent.

In a feeble attempt, you feel Soon stretch up to nuzzle his face against yours. His poor orange hair slicked down by your tears that had dropped onto him. A small tinkle of bells rang and by the small size rubbing against your leg, Dori had found you as well. One was missing, Doongie.

The one that always greeted you first and yowled until he was held.

You broke even more. Over a cat that simply didn’t recognize you anymore.

Light fingers part the curtain of hair you had created and secured it behind your ear. Pressing your eyes close, you couldn’t bear to look at him like this. Not when the roles for pain were switched this time around. You felt the dip in the cushion and the heat of his body settle next to yours, not touching but enough to feel his prescence.

His hand resting on your back was a beacon back to shore. There was no thought to even attempt to stop, just your arms latching around his neck as you pull your face into his chest. You aren’t sure how long he lets you be there, only that he separates the two of you momentarily and holds the tea cup to your lips to take small sips and stall your sobbing.

“You were right all along Min. He was just using me in the long run.” You hate the truth, but it is the very least he deserves from you. A proper apology is in order, maybe after more tea has soothed your shredded throat.

“Not right now, don’t rush yourself.” Another helping hand lifted the cup for you until it was drained, topping off the cup after quickly downing his own before it got cold. “Maybe once the sun rises and there are no more tears, then I’ll accept a very gracious apology from you.”

He gambled with his humor and won, a faint smile and scof as his reward from you.

“Maybe that knife set you had your eyes, the ones with the beautiful steel pattern. And a treat pouch for your lovely helper here.” Your fingernails found the underside of Soon’s chin and the purrs started up gladly again. You retract your hands from his neck, opting to rest your head on his shoulder instead and stare at the orange love ball in your lap.

“How about breakfast tomorrow? We’ll go get you a new dress from the boutique down the street and sit right in front of him at his restaurant. At least give him a little taste of his own medicine.” There he was, your ever evil little rabbit doing his best.

“How about I make breakfast here? I don’t think that I will be up for seeing anyone.” It hurts you to reject his plan, but you know it won’t end up well if you attempt. Hell you haven’t even been able to move your things out yet.

“Only if you make your special omelette. Oh and American pancakes?” His eyes you knew were alive right now based on the tone of his voice.

“Do you have blueberries and chocolate for them?”

“When don’t I?” His chuckle snuck into his words

“Fair enough. Alright if you want me to cook in the morning, you get to bed so I can get my beauty sleep.” You tapped your phone. How the hell was it already one in the morning.

“And just where do you think you are sleeping tonight?” You could hear the teasing in his voice. Otherwise you might have thought he was kicking you out.

“Well if you move your tush, I remember that I fit quite nicely.” You bump his shoulder with your own to urge him to move.

“I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch after all this. You need at least someone near you tonight. You’re coming with me.” He stood up and tugged on your hand to urge you to do the same.

“If I remember correctly, Dori prefers to sleep out on the couch with me. So I won’t be alone.” It was far too tempting to leap back into his arms.

But with how it ended last time, you fought the urge to avoid a disastrous outcome.

“And I prefer when I have all three of my cats with me. Plus, don’t you wanna see Doong?” God that pout was going to do you.

That pout did you in as you clasp his hand, securing Soon with the other before standing and following him.

Walking into his bedroom felt surreal, everything the exact same as a few months ago. His desk still pushed in the corner with his gaming computer sitting idle on top. Still the same comforter and everything with a grumpy looking Doong resting on it. But sadly a small cast was wrapped around one of his front paws.

“Oh poor baby Doong.” You rush over to him, happily greeted by the typical meowing at a higher velocity that you are used to. The poor boy did his best to get up to greet you, still obviously getting used to his cast.

“Him and Dori were playing a little too rough the other day and he tore a ligament. He’ll be fine, but gonna be a little stumpy for a while.” Minho explained as he walked to the other side of the bed and pulled back the sheets.

Again for the second time tonight, your body was moving without your mind thinking. As you slide into your side of the bed, you noticed and sent a silent thank you that you convinced him to get a double bed a year ago. It wasn’t the first time you two have shared a bed, but every other time at least one of you had been too drunk to function. Dori hopped up on the bed, slowly stalking up before taking the crevice between the pillows.

Another silent thank you to the universe for the saving grace.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” You hear him shuffling to get comfortable before the cats start swarming. “If you need me, don’t be afraid to wake me up.”

You wanted to respond, you really do. However you forgot how perfect it felt to sink into his bed with cats purring all around you. It was just a few seconds before the emotional exhaustion set in and you drop into a deep sleep.

You recognize exactly what the dream was before you cared to mention. Mirroring tonight, you watch the two of you on the couch and the coffee table littered with snacks and drinks while a movie played unnoticed by the two of you. It was always impossible for the two of you to focus on anything seriously when you had this many drinks. Currently you two were locked in an intense game of Cham Cham Cham when Minho going the wrong direction and take notice to the now 12th, not that he was counting, missed call from your boyfriend.

And this far gone in the night, Minho had had enough of it. Snatching up your phone and pressing accept, he took over the call.

“What? Was the other million times that you called enough of a signal that she might just be a little bit busy?” He barked into the phone, your face falling in horror as you figured out what was happening.

The yelling from the otherside of your phone was evident and you soul shrunk as you noticed the disgust on Minho’s face.

“No! She’s not coming over tonight. Maybe actually plan on being with your girlfriend on your anniversary instead kissing ass to your boss.” More yelling form the other end as you attempt to reach for the phone but are swatted away. “No, she’s in no state right now to be in public. You can pick her up tomorrow if thats what she wants. Goodnight Andrew!” He finished in a singsong voice before shutting your phone down for the rest of the night.

You sat there in disbelief, but definitely with anger boiling within you.

“Alright where were we? I still have one more chance to win.” He said facing back to you and prepped for another round.

“You had no right to do that.” You muttered out, the last of your disbelief coming out and being fully replaced with anger.

“Well he was being insane. If he really wanted to spend the time with you, he would have picked you up when he said he was going to.” So nonchalant, like he didn’t just possibly make things a million times worse.

“You still had no right. I was just gonna give him the silent treatment and talk about it with him later.”

“And he had no right treat you this way. Honestly, he has no right to treat you the way he normally does Y/N.”

“And what do you mean by that Minho.” Dead seriousness on your face, the playful mood you two had established is completely gone.

“He doesn’t deserve you. Leaving you hanging, getting mad and petty over little things, and not respecting you. Don’t you remember when you came crying from that work party because he not only didn’t stand up for you when his boss made fun of your profession, but added onto his jokes.”

“And what would you like for me to do, Minho? Just dump him. You know that he isn’t bad all the time and he’s kept my parents off my back about marriage.”

“And you think that a man that treats you mediocrely is the way to get all that?”

“Who else would you suggest?! It’s not like I have men lining up for me and if they are it’s always weirdos.”

“Me! Pick me instead!” His arm flew into the air, begging to bring down some sort of answer with the confession.

“A very funny joke, Minho. Now besides deflecting from what you just did, let's talk about how you just acted.”

“It’s not a joke Y/N. I’m here for you, I always have been. The second you tell him it’s over, I wanna be the next one in his spot. The last one in that spot.” He slides off the couch to lead in front of you, cheeks blushed from emotion and alcohol, eyes twinkling and wet.

“Minho, I can’t just-”

“Why not? Even if you don’t have any inkling of feelings for me, I know that I will treat you infinitely better than he will. It could just be the two of us, like this.” His hand coming up to cup your face, the coolness taming down the heat of your own emotions.

“But I don’t think I’m the only one of us that has emotions for each other. And if I’ve made them up in my head, I’ll keep them there until hopefully they are true and I wasn’t just imagining it.” He words felt like I’ve les sliding down your back.

The moment every girl dreams, the confession for the hot best friend when they are low in life. You could have everything you could ever want in this moment, something you had dreamed about for months on end before you stuffed the emotions so far down that you couldn’t feel them now.

They started leaping out of your heart from the deepest part and inching up your throat. One more bat of his eyelids with the smile he was giving you and surely they would be exposed to the world.

You rip away from him and move so you have the entirety of couch between the two of you, his hand still hanging in the air as he attempts to figure out what happened. You start looking around for your things, frantically stuffing them into your purse.

Babbling was the only thing that was escaping you, something along the lines that you needed to leave, to go home, maybe to think but you weren’t sure what he was able to interpret.

“Y/n! Can you just wait and we can talk this out a little-“ He stood to get closer causing you to stumble towards the front door and fished for you shoes. Poor Doongie was laying across them in vain attempt to keep you here.

“Min,” The words barely escaped with your breath. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You know the second you did you would crumble to pieces. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Not now.”

Your fingers clasped the door handle. God why hadn’t everything just gone normal. You shouldn’t have to be fleeing away from him, of all people.

“Can we talk this through tomorrow? When are we both sober?” His pain was palpable, but just excreted in his words but permeating the air of the apartment. You knew that he was crying without looking. Fuck how could you be a friend that leaves him like this.

“I‘ll let you know when I’m ready, Minho.” You couldn’t utter a goodbye, just letting the silent click of the door shutting behind you do the job. The tears didn’t hit you until you stepped into the night air, when you couldn’t easily go running to him to comfort him.

You think you spent about twenty minutes on the stoop just trying to absorb what had happened. It should have been what you where always waiting on, Minho finally confessing his feels for you when you never saw the sights beforehand. Maybe he had finally started to let on to the hints you had been not so subtly dropping for the past couple years.

But no. He had to wait until you were in a stable relationship to throw that bomb at you. When you had taken the long months of moving past liking him to the point where you would finally consider going on dates with other men. A stray dog sniffing your knee pulled you out of your trance, letting you finger move mindlessly over the keypad of your phone until the dial of the phone rang in your ear.

“Hi babe, listen I know what just happened but could you please come and pick me up.”

Waking up, you wish that you could say the night came back to you suddenly. That waking up and being met with his ceiling jolted you, that you scrambled for you clothes. Instead, you closed your eyes and tucked back into the source of heat next to you. His shirt was soft, something you missed from your ex when you were confronted with bare sweaty skin in the morning.

You did your best not to react to his arms circling you, attempting to still seem asleep. His lithe fingers found your hair, slowly working apart the larger knots your sleep had built up. You cherish it for a few more moments before rubbing the sleep from your face on him.

“Still always a late sleeper. Jisung might have your record beat however,” Minho mumbled as he shifted to allow you more room to stretch out.

“Not fair if he doesn’t fall asleep until about 3. Last night was the latest for me since,” The words die on your lips. We both know what the last rough night for me, the both of us, likely was.

“I promise not to let him think he’s winning.” He sits up slowly to start leaving bed. You haven’t opened your eyes yet, you know that the combination of his morning voice and tousled hair would hurt too much. “I’m gonna shower first. Any clothes you have here will be in your little cubby.”

His heat slipping from you almost sparked a fit. You knew that you had no grounds for one, but you let the puff of air past your lips in subtle protest. His chuckle was faint until the closing of the door severed him from you.

You chance open your eyes at that point, slowly taking in the same room like it always had been. His desk was piling a little higher with books, he still really needed to get another shelf. You had bought him one for his birthday, but couldn’t bring yourself to even drop it off while he was at work. Coming down his street seemed daunting then.

Moving quietly, you found yourself in the little fabric box Minho kept in his wardrobe for you. Well it started out for any guest, but you slowly claimed it as your own. Nights caught in the rain, your washer breaking down. Anything that you think you might need here.

The sweats on top slide on easily, but an appropriate shirt is almost impossible to find in your size. You look directly to the side, his sleep shirts folded nicely. It slides on easier than the pants, not letting you think about the inclinations as you paddle out to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

He was in there longer than you thought, probably to ensure you had enough time to wake up and get dressed. Moving around the kitchen was something still ingrained in your memory, pulling out the pan while acquiring ingredients for pancakes. It felt nice to do it by memory, not having to worry about checking the wrong drawer a million times over like when you tried to surprise Andrew.

It pulled you into a trance, watching the circles create their bubbles while the cats wove between your legs. Soon signaled his distress as he pawed at his empty bowl, causing you to chuckle. You check the usual spot, but their tub of food was empty. The pantry held the next bag of food, but Minho had placed it up higher to make room for groceries.

Even on the tips of your toes, you could just barely graze the bottom of the bag. Normally he kept a step stool however that was impossible to locate. Looks like you were going to have to jump as you prepared yourself.

“Easy there tiger, don’t want you hurting yourself.” His voice spooked you as it cut through the silence. You could barely picked up on the pad of his feet as he slotted next to you, reaching easily to grasp the bag.

“I thought I was promised omelettes.” He pouted slightly as he opened up the bag, the crinkle of the plastic drowned out by the yammering of his little fur babies.

“Patience is a virtue, Lee Minho.”

“Aren’t we lucky that I was an only child then? My ability to wait is next to nothing.” He finished scooping the portions out before turning to the counter, taking the egg carton in his hand before setting to work.

It was a well oiled dance you two knew well. Normally it was punctuated with the hunger pains of his friends as they dragged into the kitchen. Today was just filled with the sounds of the kitchen and Minho humming. Until the hum turned into faint singing as you sat on the counter to watch him slice up the rolled egg.

“Taste for me?” He offers you the first bit, hand holding under it to save the precious morale. The flavor of the peppers and chives explode across your tongue. “Good?”

“Remind me why you wanted to waste your time becoming a vet when you were born to be a chef.”

“Because you all complimenting me gives me a big enough head now. Imagine if other’s knew about me.”

“You wouldn’t be able to fit through your door.”

“Yah! Just for that, you are on table setting duty while I finish this deary.”

“We need to talk about it, Y/N. As much as I love having you here, we need to figure some stuff out.”

The bubble bursted, the illusion of this morning gone with his intrusive words.

“I’m not going back to him.” You said point blank, focusing your eyesight on his chin in hopes it mimics eye contact.

“I’m proud of you for that. But there were too many things let out in the open about us the last time we were here.” His utensils now abandoned on the table, your newest target to lock your gaze on.

“Are you sure we can’t just act like it didn’t happen? That we both just had too much to drink and said things we didn’t mean.”

You hear him suck in his breath, you knew it was a low blow but you couldn’t keep it from not coming out.

“I can’t-No I won’t pretend that it didn’t happen. I tried that for weeks, but I’d see little reminders everywhere. The poster from that movie we saw after you passed your chem final, your favorite ice cream in the grocery, and that stupid couch. I couldn’t even bring myself to sit there for two weeks after. I tried brushing it off and I won’t do it again.”

It felt so fucked up. Your heart shouldn’t have leapt like it did when he mentioned those things. That even after you probably broke his heart, he still thought of you. Clung to the little bit of you. Kept your clothing in case you come back.

But everything just felt too raw, the hurt too real. While the comfort might have come this morning in bed, it was a sheer attempt of masking the gouges Andrew had placed on you.

“Minho, I know how you feel. How you felt. I understand if you don’t feel that way anymore. Hell if you kicked me out after this I wouldn’t blame you. I wanna be able to talk about this, but I just hurt Minho. Not just from Andrew, but being back here. Falling back into all of this, the guilt I feel from leaving this is just so much more than I thought.”

“I understand that you aren’t in the best place right now. But I want you to know this. I want to be there for you during this. I just need to know how you need me to help. Just tell me and I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you.” Minho grasped your hand, causing your eyes to snap up. His eyes were glued to your hands, tracing the movement of his thumb over your skin.

“But if you aren’t going to need me how I want you, you have to tell me. I love you with all my heart. Nothing much is going to change. But I’m not going to let that happen to myself again. I won’t hurt myself by waiting in the wings and hoping for me.”

“I didn’t realize that was how you felt all along Minho.”

He laughed, but you couldn’t shake the ting of coldness from it. “Not always, but I’ve loved you for most of the time I’ve known you. I know they didn’t always seem the most serious, but I always meant everything. Every valentine, every note, every time I stood in for your date at events. I just let myself believe it was us for those moments.”

It was silent for a few moments as you let his words sink in. As you realized all those intentions he had for all those little things.

“I kept them all. I never told you that,” his eyes shot up to you, wide and hopeful. “It’s this little box under my bed, my sister got it for me thinking I’d be the cool older sister who’d get love notes from boys. I couldn’t bring myself to put anything that wasn’t yours in it once you gave me that handmade valentine. The one from the year before Dori. You called me your third kitten.”

“You really kept them all?”

“Couldn’t really throw away a note from the hottest guy in school. Why would I get rid of the corsage from the guy I clung to in hope that one night, if the lighting was just right. If the stars aligned perfectly, he’d think I’m beautiful and want no one else but me.”

The twinkle was in his as normally, a Minho standard. But you’d be lying if you didn’t think that they more closely resembled galaxies today with how suck in he seem. Your fingers tighten on his slightly and a small smile curls at his lips.

“I felt lucky if I got any sort of attention like that from you. So many of the girls in school would probably fought to the death for an inkling of it. And I just felt…special. Like you choose me to put on that little pedestal. Even if it was just for a moment.”

“I can promise you that there was no one else even close to being how I saw you. It’s always been you darling.”

This moment, captured perfectly by the warm sun beams peaking through the window. A lazy breakfast, just the two of you with the entire day ahead. Bellies full and opportunities endless.

[liliansun]

YES I SPEAK FOR ALL WE'D LIKE PARTS OF YOUR WIPS

OKAY OKAY most of these don’t have titles but here you go 🫶 two of them are either suggestive or smut so i didn’t include those and two more i wrote for joy and niwa and those. those are filth.

(untitled,, unsure who tf this was for but probably a dream member) There was something about the way old paper smelt, it was pungent and suffocating and every time you opened a book that looked like it had been on the shelf for longer than you’d been alive, you always braced yourself for that same smell to fill your nose almost immediately. Today was one of those days where you needed one of those types of books, specifically a book that could help you find some insight on the history of music. The internet didn’t do the best job on trying to help you locate the book you needed and from what your professor discussed the in the previous lecture, it wasn’t something you can just buy online. Of course he chose to make your life a little harder than he already had.

(untitled,, markhyuck wip) Maybe that’s why you found yourself unfazed by the sudden downpour as you go from a paced walk to a slight sprint through the streets of the simmering city. No, maybe it was the way your heart yearned for his touch—his rough and wild touch that always left your skin feeling on fire. Whatever it was, it led you to the steps of his door and when you finally come to realize where you were, it was too late. The tears started to flow down your cheeks while your hand clenched the bagged bottle in your hand—the realization of it all slowly started to unravel the reality you put together to cover the hole Haechan left in your heart. Just as you’re about to pull yourself together and go back to where Mark was waiting—where he was expecting you come back to, the door opens and a very confused Haechan stands in front of you.

(untitled,, stoner hyuck wip) The sound of your voice brings him in, turning around him his chair to the view of you sitting on his bed. He smiles, rubbing his temples as the frustration he just felt starts to fade. “You keep saying you’re gonna sign me up, but never do.” Rolling your eyes, you grab one of his pillows and throw it across the room. It barely hits him, earning a laugh from him as you send him your middle finger. “I’m not your mommy, hyuck, make your own appointment.” “But mommy, who’s gonna take care of me if it’s not you?” You take this moment to relax yourself and try not to attempt any and all degree’s of murder on him.

(untitled renjun wip) To say you were mad was an understatement—you were absolutely furious, livid even. The boy who you had no interest in knowing’s name was staring you down with a fire in his eyes and it wasn’t the good kind, no, he wanted to literally set you ablaze in your place. The poor cafe worker looked stressed and the friction between you and the stranger was not helping at all. “Please, why don’t we all calm down—“ “I don’t see why I should have to pay for her mistakes.” Crossing his arms, he scoffed in your direction as you looked at him shocked. “My mistakes? Maybe if you’d watch were you’re going then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Not bothering to pay attention to you really started to irk you even more, another layer of frustration laying heavy on your head. “Hello, listen to me when I’m—do you want years shaved off your life span?” After snapping your fingers at him repeatedly, he tried to swat your hand away which ultimately was leading you up to your only option—beating the shit out of this man.

(untitled 1989 tv ‘slut’ inspired hyuck ch bff2l wip) Your mom was too busy rubbing his back to realize you had passed them both, crouching down to haechan’s print he had made into the cement. Your impulses were something you were still trying to navigate, but there was no regret as you brought your hand down to where his was and put enough pressure into the soft liquid before pulling out and feeling somewhat satisfied with the way your two hand prints looked beside each other. Haechan had watched you the entire time, his glossy eyes lighting up at your actions. “Y/n, what are you doing?” your mother looked over at you in awe and shock when she noticed that your hand was too covered in cement. “Now we’re in this together.” those few words, unbeknownst to the two of you at such age, had laid out the foundation to a longtime friendship the two of you would build together from there on out.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hiii!!!

I was wondering if u could do a Elvis Presley imagine. Where you two have a fight and he says some horrible stuff to u and u leave in the car and get into a really bad car accident.

can end how u like. Sorry if this is really bad I’m new to all this!!

LOVE ur writing btw😘

elvis -  “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.”

I LOVE THIS IDEA I hope this is okay, enjoyyy!!

Summary: ^^^

Warnings: arguing, yelling, angry Elvis, car crash, hospital

MASTERLIST

_______________________

You and Elvis had been out to one of his friends house parties, but the the night drew to a close sooner than anticipated as a downpour of rain began soaking everyone and everything, pelting you with the kind of raindrops so big they almost stung. You decided it would be best for the both of you to just go home anyway, as you’d been constantly bickering and making nasty comments at the other since you arrived at the party.

“I hate that you don’t trust me, you know that? If anything, I should be the one who can’t trust you, with the girls hangin’ off you like they do!” You barked at him, having to yell extra loud to be heard over the rain, slamming the car door as he and you pulled up to the front of his Graceland home, his parents not home, being out for dinner.

“Fuck sake Y/N! You always bring it back to the girls, don’t ya? Too damn insecure, get a grip, it’s unattractive.” He argued, unlocking the front door, pushing it open so aggressively it slammed against the wall and bounced back to hit your nose, the smack stinging your cold skin as you walked inside behind him.

“Don’t speak to me like that, Elvis. I’m your girl, not your damn maid!” You scolded him as he headed to the kitchen, dripping water through the house. You followed him, grabbing a wine glass out of the cabinet, needing something to calm your mind a bit.

“I’ll talk to you however I fucking want to.” He seethed, slamming his hand down on the counter next to you, you jumped, fumbling with the glass, watching as it shattered into tiny pieces in front of you.

“Oh, god sake, Y/N.” He groaned at the mess you’d just created, tears welling in your eyes. You brought your shaking hand down from the cabinet, unfortunately not without pulling down another fragile glass with it, making you gasp. He glared at you, his eyes the deepest shade of blue, raging like the most wild ends of the ocean. You gulped, preparing yourself for the explosion of anger that was no doubt about to fall from his mouth.

“Get out of the kitchen.” His voice was quiet and soft, eerily quiet.

“Elvis, I’ll clean i—“

“Get out of my kitchen!” Yep, that was the explosion you had expected. He slowly stepped towards you, making you take one backwards. The sound of glass crunched under your heels as you accidentally walk over the fragments on the floor.

“Do you not hear me? Fucking useless. Can’t do anything right, fucking worthless, you are.” He was furious. His deep voice raged at you, you’d never seen him angry quite like this. He continued to walk towards you, yelling a blend of insults and swear words at you, backing you up towards the front door, you kept your distance, genuinely afraid he might throw a punch, which you knew he was more than capable of.

“Get out of my house!” His yell was hoarse and, well, frightening.

“Elvis, please.” You muttered, too many tears welling up in your eyes, they began to stream out and down your cheeks.

“Get out and don’t come back.” He ordered, slamming the door shut in front of you once he’d backed you out the house. You were absolutely shattered, heart feeling like he’d taken it out your body and stomped on it. As hurt as you were, and as tempting as it was to get on your knees and cry until he let you back in, you were angry with him too. You stood up, marching yourself over to your car and hopping in.

“Asshole, talking to me like that, what nerve.” You muttered, starting the car, driving off as fast as you could. You probably would’ve burnt rubber if everything wasn’t rain-soaked. You didn’t really have a destination in mind, apart from far away from him.

Is that it? Are we over? It can’t be. Maybe it should be? I hate him, but I love him. I hate that I love him. Maybe I should go back, that wasn’t like him.

These thoughts tumbled through your mind like it was on spin cycle, your consciousness drifting further and further away from the road as you fell deeper and deeper in thought. And with the rain dulling your hearing and weakening your eyesight, you couldn’t see the truck that pulled out, driving across the road perpendicular to you. You tried to stop, the truck driver tried to stop, but it was too late. You spun the wheel, your car spinning in front of him as the truck ploughed at you. That was the last thing you remember, was the spinning of the car and a piercing ringing in your ear, the feeling of blood rushing down the back of your head before blacking out.

Meanwhile, Gladys and Vernon had just arrived home from their dinner date, to Elvis sitting in the living room by himself, staring intently at nothing.

“Hi, sweetheart! Where’s Y/N?” Gladys asked him.

“Not here. ‘M going to bed.” He mumbled, standing up and trudging his way upstairs.

“Oh, where is she?” She inquired, earning no reply. Elvis got himself into bed, tossing and turning, couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for kicking you out in the rain, but he eventually was able to nod off. In the early hours of the morning, around 3 o’clock, the telephone by the bed startled him awake. He rolled over, groaning, picking up his pillow and shoving it over his ears to try and block out the sound, letting it ring out. The ringing stopped, until it started again, he groaned once again, reaching an arm out to answer.

“Hm?”

“Is this Elvis Presley?” The man on the other end of the line asked.

“Mm.” He hummed.

“My name is Doctor Vincent Langdon. I’m an emergency surgeon at Baptist Memorial Hospital. I’m calling as you are listed as Y/N Y/L/N’s emergency contact.”

That ought to wake him up.

“Surgeon? Y/N? What?”

“The young lady was involved in a car accident, Mr Presley, are you able to come down to the hospital, promptly? We need to collect some information for her medical assessment and the police report, as she is not currently conscious.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” He shot up, panicking as he scrambled to get dressed and go wake his parents up.

“Mama, mama, it’s all my fault. Wake up, mama, we need to go to the hospital.” He whimpered as shook his mothers shoulder.

“Sweetheart, Elvis, what’s going on?”

“Y/N got into a car accident, she’s at the hospital and it’s all my fault, it’s my fault she’s hurt.” Tears began to fall down his cheeks.

“Elvis, what? What happened?”

“Mama, I need you to just get dressed and wake daddy up, I’ll can’t wait any longer I gotta go, please come to the hospital, I’ll explain later, please.” He begged his mom before running downstairs, picking up his keys out the bowl they were all kept in by the front door, hopping into one of his cars. The drive to the hospital was quick, no traffic on the roads at this hour to slow him down. Once he’d gotten inside and explained to the desk who he was and who he was there to see, he took a seat in the waiting room, his knee bouncing up and down, full of nervous energy.

Soon, the doctor who has rung him earlier came to talk to him, explaining what he had been told by the police about how the crash occurred, before getting all your details from him, as you were yet to wake up.

“Can I see her?” Elvis asked.

“If you want to, you can, but she’s only stable, Mr Presley, not awake, it can be pretty jolting.”

“No I-I want to.” He stuttered, the doctor nodded in agreement, showing him to your room. He stood by your body, trembling with guilt as he pulled a chair up beside you.

“They say unconscious people can still sense what’s going on around them. If that’s true- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never should have gotten so angry at you, I never should have kicked you out, this is all my damn fault.” His voice quivered as his eyes burnt with hot tears, his hand curled over yours, he shuddered slightly at the temperature of your skin. It wasn’t dead cold, but cooler than the burning hot he was used to you being.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me. Not now, not ever. God, I know you hear me. Don’t fucking do this to me. I need her. I need her, please, keep her with me.” He pulled his hand away from you, bringing it to his face along with his other hand as he sobbed into his palms.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so damn much. I will regret this for the rest of my life, I’ll never be able to cope if you don’t make it, you have to come back to me. I love you.” His sad spiel was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was the doctor, who informed him that his parents were there. He left you, going to greet them. He sat with his parents outside your room, explaining to them what happened, how guilty he felt, with his mama holding his hand the whole time. The three of them sat for hours until the sun had risen, saying prayers throughout the night for you. When the clock had struck a reasonable hour, Elvis called your parents who lived in another state. Around lunch time that day, his parents went back to Graceland, but he insisted he would not leave the hospital until he could leave with you.

Hours upon hours later, after falling asleep multiple times outside the room you were in, a nurse came to check on you, rushing out, and then back in with a few doctors. You’d been technically conscious for a few hours now, but no one said anything to him because they wanted you to rest, but when the nurse walked in, she found you awake and able to have a conversation with her. The commotion startled Elvis, waking him up. 

“W-what’s goin’ on, honey, is she okay?” he asked, pulling the nurse aside to ask.

“Yes, Mr Presley, she is awake. Would you like to speak to her?” She asked.

Immediately, he rushed in, knelt by your beside and held your hand, thanking the lord you were okay. After repeating his apology a thousand times, you smiled.

“Elvis, you didn’t cause it, okay? And especially after the way you spoke to me the other day, I think I’m long overdue for a hug.” 

He nodded, pulling you into the tightest, yet most gentle hug he could. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me, ever, okay?” He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t tell me to, then.” You joked, but deep down Elvis still felt awful, indescribably guilty. He spent the next 24 hours with you, telling you how much he loves you over and over again in every way he could possibly think of, until you were able to be discharged and go home with him to Graceland. 

__________________

A/N: I didn’t really know how to finish it off but I think it’s kinda cute!! thank you for the request I appreciate it <3<3<3<3<3<3

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Sam Kiszka

A/N: Here she is, in all her filth and glory!! I was watching Dirty Dancing the other night and have also been goofing around with some of my old dance routines. I always wish I had stuck with dance, but who knows… Maybe I’ll end up going back. Anyways, enjoy! I love you all!

DISCLAIMER: I haven’t danced in YEARS okay, so forgive me for my lack of proper terms in this fic - as I honestly don’t remember most of them.

WARNINGS: Sam and Reader don’t get along, Light-ish angst, arguing, harsh language. Contains explicit sexual content! 18+, Minors DNI! Hate fucking, degradation, choking, slapping, spanking, mirror play, oral (both receiving), edging, fingering, unprotected sex.

Masterlist

••••

You ran towards the doors of the dance studio, holding a random hoodie that was in your car over your head to shield yourself from the rain.

It certainly hadn’t been one of your best mornings ever and of course, the sky decided to fall out in a torrential downpour.

“For fucks sake,” you muttered in annoyance, yanking the the door of the building open.

“Hey, Y/N! You okay?” One of the dancers there - Danny, had asked with a concerned expression.

“It’s been a shitty morning… but I’ll be fine once I start dancing.” You told him honestly, giving him a halfhearted smile. “How are you?”

“I understand. It’s definitely not been my best morning either. I’m okay, though,” Danny admitted with a light chuckle. “But, I have to get going so I can work on my routine with my partner. Have fun and I hope your day gets better, Y/N!”

“Have fun! I can’t wait to see it!” You waved him off, walking down the opposite hallway to your own practice room.

The dance company that you were part of, was participating in a huge dance competition in two days. This was the most pressure you’d ever been under, wanting to be absolutely perfect for the sake of not only your partner, but also for the entire dance company. There was nothing any of you would love more than to win this competition; the effort, time and tears each of you were putting into your routines, was something all of you deserved some recognition for.

There were a number of you picked for duet dances, the rest of the company being left with the freedom of solo pieces. You had been one of the first dancers picked to be part of a duet, with another boy in your company named Luke.

You and Luke had practiced every day (even into some late nights), for the last two weeks. You were both incredibly proud of your routine and the chemistry the pair of you seemed to share.

You came up to the door of your assigned room, looking around in slight surprise that Luke wasn’t there yet - Especially since you both had yesterday off to get some much needed rest.

Figuring he was just running a little bit behind, you decided to just start warming up without him.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed and you got up from the floor, walking over to check your phone to see if you had maybe missed a text or call from him.

Suddenly, the door was being opened and you looked up with hopeful eyes, but your face quickly dropped upon seeing your teacher.

“Miss Y/N! Lovely to see you’re well,” Mrs. Scott greeted with a sympathetic smile that made your face twist in confusion. You returned a warm smile anyway and she continued. “Unfortunately, I have some bad news…”

“What is it…?” You hesitated to even ask, worried that it may have something to do with Luke.

“Luke has fallen sick. He said he started feeling bad last night.” She explained, with a disappointed shake of her head. “This means either I will have to assign you a new partner, or you will sadly have to back out of the competition this weekend.”

“Excuse me Mrs. Scott, but how am I supposed to teach and learn our whole routine with somebody else, in just two days at that?” You panicked, hands becoming shaky and clammy.

“You are incredibly talented, my dear. I think you can manage just fine. I have the utmost confidence in you.” She answered genuinely, with an expectant look.

You stayed silent for a moment, processing everything she had just dumped on you in such short notice. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it undeniably felt horrible and a bit unfair.

“Who would my partner be?” you asked her, mind running through all the people who were dancing solo and could do it.

“I was going to pair you with Sam Kiszka.”

You found yourself fighting back a groan at Mrs. Scott’s words. The urge to back out of the competition, didn’t seem nearly as bad as before.

You stared at the ground silently, while your mind raced in circles.

“Does that not sound like a fair plan?” Mrs. Scott asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly at your sudden silence. “Sam is fantastic and could learn your routine very quickly. I would hate for you to have to withdraw from the competition, when you have a solution right in front of you.”

You knew she was expecting you, as your longtime teacher, to see this through - Despite the time crunch and doubled pressure you were now being practically crushed and suffocated under.

“I… No, yeah… I guess that will work. We can make it work.” You nodded in -hesitant- agreement, letting out a ragged breath.

“Like I said, I have the utmost confidence in you AND Sam.” Mrs. Scott reiterated. “I’ll go and get him for you.”

With that, she disappeared out of the studio door to retrieve Sam.

Sam was probably one of the most skilled dancers in the entire company. You had no doubt he could learn your entire routine in the two short days you had. It really came down to the fact that he could be a nightmare to work with. He was snappy and so easily irritated by everything it seemed. You thought you were a perfectionist… until you met Sam. He would definitely have something to correct about your routine. Sure, you were open to helpful criticism, but he didn’t seem to have a good grasp on how to deliver constructive criticism very nicely.

You paced around in front of the mirror lined wall, glancing at yourself in it every few seconds - Looking like a flustered mess.

You practically jumped out of your own skin when you heard the door swing open, whipping around to see Sam sauntering in. Sporting an unfazed expression. Shocker.

“Alright,” Sam sat down on the floor, stretching out his legs casually. “Tell me about this routine, I guess.”

“Well… t’s really sensual and sexy,” you began, trying to stay cool as you broke it all down for him. “Lots of touching, very intense emotionally… Seductive. It’s to the song ‘Crazy In Love’, but the Fifty Shades Of Grey version.“

Sam’s lips twitched at the corners with an amused scoff as you finished explaining. “Surprised you would do such a risky routine.”

“Why?” You scoffed, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t know really.” Sam shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the type to do such an erotic number.”

You let out a humorless laugh, looking at him in disbelief.

“Especially to that song.” Sam added, with a pointed expression that made your blood start to boil. “I hope you can pull off being obsessively in love and seductive.”

Your teeth gritted in irritation as your jaw clenched painfully tight. “I guess you’ll know soon, won’t you?”

~

“That’s sloppy.” Sam huffed for the thousandth time, stepping away from you.

The two of you had been practicing since the early morning, when your plans were so suddenly changed. It was now after eleven o’clock at night and both of you were tired and irritated, but neither of you were ready to quit - feeling pressure of having less than forty-eight hours now, to complete the routine.

The routine that Sam had been nitpicking at all day.

“Jesus CHRIST, Sam. What do I need to fucking fix?” You snapped rather loudly, not caring about your volume. You were the only two left in the building anyway.

“A lot of shit! We need to switch up some of these moves. We’re supposed to be toxic and sexy and intense.” Sam emphasized frustratedly. “You expect these judges to believe any of this shit you came up with? Because I certainly wouldn’t buy it.”

Your mouth gaped at his harsh words, hands balling into fists at your sides. “For fucks sake! We’re dancing, Sam! Not fucking on the stage, for god’s sake!” You raised your voice, gesturing around wildly as if there was a stage nearby.

“But the same level of passion and energy needs to go in this god forsaken dance!” Sam argued, matching your volume. “You act like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!”

“My GOD, I never said you don’t! I said we don’t have the time to change these fucking moves, Sam!”

“I suggest you stop yelling at me or I will walk the fuck out of here right now!” Sam hissed, taking a step closer to you with a pointed finger.

You drew in a quick breath, trying to calm yourself down as best you could, despite your raging anger that Sam and all the stress had caused.

“Maybe we should take a break.” You suggested dryly, looking at the two of your bodies in the mirror.

“Fine. Fifteen, then we’ll come back and we’re gonna try some other moves.” Sam told you, as if it wasn’t up for any sort of discussion.

You didn’t even bother answering him, snatching up your water bottle and storming out of the door. You bee lined it to the front doors, desperate to feel some cooler, night time air on your skin in hopes that it would sooth you.

Unfortunately for you, the anger was so deep set in you that even the crisp, late night air wasn’t quite enough to calm you down.

Regardless, your break was coming to an end and you had to go back into that god forsaken, mirrored room with Sam.

You breathed in the nighttime air, mentally repeating as many encouraging and uplifting things to yourself as you could. The two of you would surely be much better after this break, right? It was definitely naive to even hope that just this little fifteen, would solve your problems and relieve all your anger. - On not just your end, but Sam’s as well.

Sighing in partial defeat, you swing the door open and made your way back to your practice room.

Pausing just outside the door, you heard the song for the routine playing. It almost made you wonder if Sam had even taken a break, or if he had just sent you off to take one.

You shoved the door open, watching Sam work through different moves that you had been arguing about changing, since you started teaching him the routine.

Sam caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye as you made your way deeper into the room and stopped, walking over to shut the music off and turning back to you.

“You ready to cooperate?” Sam snipped, a sharp edge still lingering in his tone, showing you he definitely hadn’t done much calming down.

“Are you gonna compromise?” you countered, trying to sound much calmer than you really felt.

Sam sighed in half annoyance, half defeat, throwing his hands up and out dramatically. “Fine, yes. Whatever gets us out of here faster.”

“It’s almost midnight, can you please cool your jets? Just a little?” You chided, putting your water bottle down beside your phone.

It felt pointless to even ask. Sam was clearly not calming down anytime soon.

“Let’s try and run this with the music.” Sam said, completely ignoring your plea.

You sighed in defeat, picking up your phone and searching for ‘Crazy In Love.’

The run through with the music was… a mess to say the very least.

Both of you messed up in multiple places and collided awkwardly in moments where the moves just weren’t flowing.

Of course, this would all happen with Sam. You never had any of these issues with Luke.

Sam marched over to the speaker, shutting it off from there.

“Oh, my god.” Sam tangled his fingers in his hair, rubbing at his head in frustration. “Yeah, we’re changing like… everything.”

“Whatever the hell you wanna do, Sam.” You hissed venomously. “It’s not like we only have less than two days now or anything.”

“You know what, Y/N? Why don’t you go the fuck home and let me work this shit out on my own? I’ll rework some of this and teach it to you tomorrow.” Sam threw his arm out and pointed at the door, hurling just as much venom back at you.

“And hopefully you can learn it that quick.”

Your jaw clenched painfully in anger and you stormed over to all your belongings, snatching them up in your arms.

Jerking the door open, you turned to Sam one last time. He was frozen in place in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

Absolutely fuming, you snapped the final words of the night between the two of you.

“Fuck you. Do whatever you want.”

<>

The next evening’s practice with Sam rolled around way quicker than you had hoped it would. Not a single part of you wanted to go back.

When you finally entered that same practice room, neither of you could be bothered to even mumble a dry “hey,” to the other. It was torturously silent in the room, until Sam had finally started to explain all the things he had changed - Going as far as dancing it out for you to the song.

“So,” Sam finished, shutting off the music.

All you had really gathered so far was that it was practically a whole new routine. He left maybe one of your own moves. Two if you were lucky.

“Think you can do all that?”

You fought against the urge to cuss him out, feeling just as angered (if not more) than you were when you left last night. But, in light of just wanting to get this whole evening done and over with as quickly as possible, you swallowed down your anger and agreed.

“Yep.” You nodded once. “I can do that.”

~

The two of you ran over the routine piece by piece, with as much patience as either of you could find within yourselves. And there certainly wasn’t much patience to be found.

It was nearing midnight and the amount of times you guys had tried to run your routine in full -but failed- Well… both of you had stopped counting.

“For fucks sake!” Sam’s voice rang out angrily over the music. Your own aggravated groan ringing out not long after. “”Yep! I can do that!” He spat, mocking your words from earlier dramatically.

“SHUT the fuck UP, oh my god!” You yelled back. Neither of you bothered pausing the song, far too lost in fury to even care anymore.

At least the two of you were (once again) the only two in the building.

“I got all the fucking moves right! What else could you possibly want?!”

“I want some damn emotion!“ Sam threw his hands out towards you, gesturing around to your body and face. “I mean, jesus christ! Be seductive! Obsessive, sexy. Be a fucking whore!”

“I think you’d be better off being the goddamn whore! Hell, you’re already a brat!” You shot back, through clenched teeth.

“Watch. Your mouth.” Sam seethed, stepping a little closer to you than you had expected, but you stood firmly in your spot. “How about you put all this bitchy energy into this dance, huh? Cause being a bitch has to be good for something, right?”

You took a step closer to him this time, your body acting long before your mind had processed what you were even doing.

With both hands, you shoved into Sam’s chest roughly, causing him to stumble backwards. His look of utter shock didn’t last long, before his eyes darkened and flashed with something you couldn’t hardly process.

“Do that shit again. I fucking dare you.”

As you and Sammy stared each other down, It felt like the music was somehow blaring even louder than before, as the song was set to repeat over and over again.

“I can’t fucking stand you.” your voice was drenched with pure anger, but way Sam was staring at you, had your stomach twisting in an undeniably delicious way.

“Well, I need you to be obsessed.” Sam spoke in an unwavering, low tone. “Absolutely desperate.”

Sam took a few steps forward, getting rid of most of the space that was between the two of you. He peered down at you, and as much as you hated to admit it, his fiery gaze started to make you feel small.

“Show me you can be the part, or I will help you fucking learn.” Sam growled.

A sick, twisted part of you wanted to push him further. The urge to make him run this whole dance again and you fuck something up on purpose, just to see what he would really do… Well, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“Get the fuck off my case, Kiszka. I know what I’m doing.” You bit flippantly. “You’re such a dick.”

“Then god damnit, Y/N, DO IT.” Sam’s voice raised. Had you not been half expecting it, you might have cringed slightly at his volume.

“Cause I’m sure as hell getting sick and tired of being here with you.”

Storming over to speaker, you started the song over for what was easily the millionth time and went back to your starting position. Sam was already in his, giving you a bone chilling stare.

The two of you started moving towards each other in perfect synchronicity. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the raging anger in both of you, you’d probably be doing this whole routine perfectly. Alas - doing this dance sans the rage, was probably not going to happen. Not even at the competition; unless both of you were miraculously lucky.

In a half decent attempt at looking past your anger and exhaustion, you followed Sam’s lead, delivering each move beautifully. You could tell Sam was letting himself get deeper into it, almost fully diving into the part.

Obsessive. Sexy. Intoxicating. Crazy.

He pulled you into his body and you continued to follow his lead, coming close to the section your routine where you had found yourself falling apart every single time. It was so intense. Sam was demanding something from you that you secretly didn’t believe was there.

“Don’t fucking fall apart on me.” Sam spoke loudly over the music, demanding you to keep it together and follow through the way you had been so far. “Put a little more passion in it. It’s not that damn hard.”

Spinning you around, you listened to his demands and began growing hot. ‘Perhaps I could pull from your anger’ you thought to yourself. Maybe you could shift that energy into some warped and twisted form of passion somehow. That was probably the only way you were gonna get it… At least to the level Sam was looking for, anyway.

Mentally hyping yourself up and diving into your raging anger that Sam had provoked the last two nights, you mustered up as much courage as you could - hoping and praying it would carry you through these next few moments.

“Fucking finally. Keep going,” For once, Sam sounded half pleased with what you were giving him.

You said nothing back, hyper focused on not crumbling into your awkwardness. Again.

Everything was going perfectly and you were finally a little over halfway through the routine. It felt like it was taking forever to get through it; having to look deep into Sam’s eyes with an intensity that had you wanting to throw up and fall to pieces. You couldn’t though. No matter how badly you wanted to pry away from his burning touches and look away from his still cold, fiery eyes, it was all too good. The two of you were bound to win with this… So long as you kept yourself together.

However, while you were busy fighting with yourself to stay focused, Sam had a problem of his own. Between all his built up frustrations and anger, mixed with the lust that he was supposed to be exuding into this routine, the lust slowly became much more real for Sam than it was for you. Sure, it was driven solely on his exasperated state, but so was the distorted “passion” you were pushing out.

Sam took a firm hold on your arm, pulling you roughly, but rhythmically into his body. Damn him for keeping this move of yours. Of the few he decided to keep - this one; the one that had put you in the predicament of having to go over this dance, over and over again with him - is one of the ones he kept.

The two of you sunk down to floor together. You hadn’t met his eyes just yet, but you were anxiously counting away the beats that were leading you up to the intense moment… The crescendo of the whole thing.

Sam grabbed both sides of your face and your eyes shot up to his. His grip on your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes locked with his. You kept your eyes fixed on his for as long as you could, determined to finally make it through the rest of the routine. Sam’s hands traveled from your face and down your body, as you slowly started to stand back up together. Even though you’d made it a few good seconds passed where you had previously been losing it, you began to falter yet again.

“God damnit, keep your eyes on mine!” Sam commanded, chasing after your gaze that had abandoned him, to stare at your reflections in one of the large mirrors. “Y/N, I swear to god!”

You groaned in vexation, ripping Sam’s hands off your body aggressively. Turning away from him, you sighed heavily. You were doing everything you could to try and understand why you were just so flustered. Was it Sam? Was it doing such a handsy piece with a new partner? The stress of how little time you had to get this, and you still hadn’t even run the whole thing through flawlessly?

All of the above seemed to resonate deeply, which didn’t make you feel much better at all.

Sam came up behind you, eerily quiet , causing you to tense. You could feel every bit of the hot-blooded, fierce energy that was pouring out of him. It filled the room with a suffocating heat and palpable tension.

“What did I tell you, Y/N?”

Your breath hitched as his now raspy voice, broke through the music that was still bouncing around the four walls. Your brain searched frantically through the countless things he’d said to you tonight, eventually landing on the one you knew he was probably alluding to.

“”Show me you can be the part, or I’ll help you fucking learn.”” you weakly quoted his words from earlier perfectly.

“Exactly.” Sam reached out for you, turning you around to face him. You didn’t dare meet his eyes. “Look. At. Me.”

It took you what seemed like forever to meet his command. You eyes trailed around the floor for a moment, finally landing on his feet. From there, you raked your eyes nervously up his body - taking note of how his hands were fisted at his sides. His shoulders were visibly tight and his face was flaming bright red.

“You’re an absolute nightmare to work with, you know that?” Sam questioned, as if you genuinely didn’t know you were being difficult.

“Sam, i-“

“Shut up.” Sam barked, stepping closer to you. “I think you need a little bit of an incentive. What do you think, doll?”

The pet name rolled off Sam’s tongue effortlessly, sending a wave of fresh heat through your body when it reached your ears. It made you even more irritated that he was getting to you.

“I don’t need help. I can get it, let’s just do it aga-“

“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not doing this god forsaken routine again-“ Sam closed the remaining space between your bodies, poking your chest pointedly. “-Until I believe you can do it without screwing it up.”

“Oh, do tell me, how the fuck do you expect me to prove that?“ You snarled, stepping back from him.

He took another step forward, not wanting any new space between the two of you.

“I want you to prove to me that you can keep your eyes on mine.” Sam told you, as if it was obvious. “We drop eye contact, we lose the intensity of this whole damn thing. We lose focus. You end up out of touch with me and that, doll, is what is royally fucking us up.”

You scoffed loudly. Even though Sam had made a seriously valid point, you still didn’t quite understand how he intended to get you to prove anything to him.

“Am I just too much for you?” Sam taunted, leaning down to come nose to nose with you. “Do I make the poor little brat shy?”

“No.” You stood your ground, trying to remain firm and cool. “You’re just insufferable to be around and work with.”

“Mmm, then we’re just two peas in a pod, aren’t we?f” He jested dryly, rolling his eyes. “You know…” Sam’s hand raised to your face, causing you to jolt when the back of one of his fingers came in contact with your warm temple. “I think behind this little bitchy attitude, you’re dying for me to show you what I want you to do.”

You blinked away from him, trying your absolute damnedest to keep heat from rushing to your cheeks.

“I’m only being bitchy because YOU are bringing it out of me.” Despite your efforts to keep your voice strong, it still came out shaky and overly defensive. Not meeting his eyes, was definitely not helping your case either.

“See?!” Sam huffed an exasperated and humorless laugh. His finger found your jaw and tilted your head forward, but your eyes didn’t follow - Looking absolutely anywhere but Sam. “You’re already doing it again. Come on, look at me… right in my eyes. Be a big girl and do it.”

When you stubbornly still didn’t listen to him, Sam settled on a different approach. He turned you towards the mirror, moving to face it with you.

Feeling the growing wetness between you legs, you quickly tried to dig your way out. “Sam, what are you doing? Let’s just take a brea-“

“No breaks. If you won’t look at me, look at yourself,” Sam cut you off, pointing at your reflection. Finding the will to fight him growing thin, you caved, slowly raising your eyes to meet with your own in the mirror. “So flustered and pink. You’re just too sweet to do this. Maybe I should find a different partner…”

Sam’s words definitely stung and you hated that they did. You gave him a single glance as you spat back. “Fuck you, prick.”

With a widening smirk, you words clearly barely even scratched the surface. They were utterly amusing him if anything. “You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes fell down to your arm, where his fingertips were grazing the skin of your shoulder, just shy of the strap of your sports bra and trailing down your arm. You cursed the chill that shook your spine and the goosebumps that formed over your skin, because they definitely didn’t go unnoticed to Sam.

“You’re so reactive to me…” He teased lowly, watching you closely in the mirror. His fingers stopped at your wrist and moved over to your exposed torso, running across the hem of your leggings. “I think this might be the motivation you need.”

“What? A good hate-fuck? Yeah, that’s just what I need.” you snarked. “You probably can’t last long enough for that to even be an effective solution.”

It slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You had said some questionable things to him, but judging by the shade of red that his face took on, these were definitely the words that hit him the hardest.

Within a blink, you were being abruptly turned back towards Sam and his hand found your jaw in a grip that could take you straight to your knees.

“Listen you little mouthy brat, I will fuck you so hard you can’t even fucking stand tomorrow. Then what? Neither of us get to fucking win. How does that sound?” Sam stared you down like he was ready to throw you across the room.

Reaching up, you pried his hand off your jaw and held it away from you. “I think that sounds like an empty fucking threat.” you hissed back, knowing good and well you were challenging him. It was easily close to one in the morning now, so fuck it. There was very little chance of getting anything else done tonight anyway.

Sam closed the gap between the two of you, yanking your whole body into his so forcefully it had you both stumbling. Your teeth clashed with his, but neither of you cared even the slightest bit. His tongue fought against yours for dominance, which he won by tangling a hand into your hair and pulling it roughly.

“At least so far your mouth is good for something other than making bitchy comments.” Sam shot as he pulled away to catch his breath.

“As much of a dick as you are, I hope you know how to use yours.” You shot right back, earning you a harsh smack to your outer thigh that had your knees buckling.

“Oh, pretty baby, you’re about to find out.” Sam smiled wickedly. It was probably the first smile you had seen out of him, in the two days you’d spent with him so far. “On your knees, I’m tired of listening to you.”

You sunk to your knees immediately, as if you had absolutely no control over your body anymore. Sam took a step back from you, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands and pulling it over his head. His fingers found the tie of his sweatpants, tugging it lose.

You watched his thumbs hook into the waistband and spoke up in protest. “What if I wanted to take them off you?“

“You haven’t earned that. You’ll be lucky if you even get to touch me at all.”

The only thing that stopped the annoyed groan from coming out of you, was the sudden view of Sam’s hardened cock as he shoved his sweats and boxers down his legs.

He looked as though he’d already been achingly hard for a while. He ran his thumb over his tip, soaking it completely with his pre cum.

“Open.” Sam commanded, gesturing to your mouth with his hand. You did as he told you, slowly opening your mouth up for him.

Sam’s thumb dipped into your mouth, giving you a taste of himself. “Go ahead… suck it.”

Without hesitation, you closed your mouth around Sam’s thumb, sucking every drop of his pre cum off with a barely audible moan.

But, even though he couldn’t hear it, the tiny vibration it sent through his finger was definitely a give away.

“Yeah, you would love this,” Sam scoffed down at you. “You’re just a submissive little thing, just like I thought.”

“Far fucking from it, asshole.” You lied and he knew it.

“As easily as I got you down on your knees, I’d say otherwise.” Sam snickered, beginning to stroke himself right in front of your face.

The drool that formed in your mouth at the sight of him was embarrassing. It was a damn good thing he couldn’t see it, because it would just be one more thing for him to make a snarky comment on.

“Just fuck my face already. Maybe I’ll pass out and won’t have to deal with you anymore tonight.” you huffed, licking over your lips.

“Bold words for a girl who can’t even look me in the eyes.” Sam retorted, grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back. “But since you asked…”

You opened your mouth for Sam and he slid himself in, giving you time to feel out how he felt in your mouth and his size.

After you adjusted and got comfortable, you slowly began moving your head up and down his length. Your hands gripped at each of his thighs, digging into the soft skin as you took him all the way to the back of your throat, earning a groan of approval from him.

“Fuck. That mouth could get you in so much trouble and get you out of it, all at once.” Sam groaned, head tipping back as his eyes gazed up to the ceiling blissfully.

Sam let you keep control for a while, until he figured you were comfortable enough. “You want me to fuck your mouth now? Hmm? Fuck all of those rude words right out?”

You nodded around him, but didn’t even try to hold back the exaggerated eye roll you gave at his words. Grabbing each side of your face with his large, calloused hands, he slid in and out of your mouth slowly, but rhythmically at first.

“This rude little mouth takes me so perfectly,” Sam rasped out, fucking into your throat harder.

“Who would have thought.”

You hummed around him, too focused on breathing to really listen to what he was saying. Even though he was being an ass, the few things you did choose to listen to, didn’t fail to send waves of wetness quite possibly soaking through your leggings completely.

“Look up at me. C’mon, be a big girl and look at me while I fuck your pretty face.” Sam’s thumb rubbed over you cheek, a much softer gesture compared to the force his hips were snapping into your mouth.

You squeezed your eyes, preparing yourself to look up at him. There was no way you were gonna let him win. You had to prove him you could do it.

Opening your eyes, they traveled up his toned, thin, chest. You hadn’t really had much opportunity to admire him, but you were definitely gonna take it now. Sam was so perfectly and intricately sculpted. He was painful to look at, really.

Finally meeting his eyes, Sam had the filthiest smirk plastered over his lips. You despised that smirk… And how it alone made you wetter than any man ever had.

“There they are… those innocent little eyes.” Sam cooed tauntingly, hips slightly faltering in your mouth.

“Mm, you didn’t think I was gonna cum in your mouth, did you?”

You gasped to fill your lungs back up with air, as Sam pulled out of your mouth.

“You don’t deserve to taste all of me like that.”

A noise of disappointment tumbled out of you before you could stop it. Thankfully, Sam chose to ignore it in light of the other plans on his mind.

Before you could even try to stand up, Sam was sinking to the floor in front of you.

“You’re not really gonna fuck me right here on the floor…?” You asked incredulously.

“Where else am I gonna fuck you stupid?” Sam questioned, sounding as if your question was the biggest inconvenience. “Unless you want me to take you up against the mirror.”

A brief glance at the mirror caused his eyes to darken even more and without another word, he was moving around to sit behind you.

“Sam, what are you doing?”

“Just turn and face the mirror and be quiet.” Sam ordered, not really giving you the time to move on your own - rather helping you along with a bruising grip on your shoulders.

“Okay… Now what?” you questioned, sounding horribly impatient.

“Christ, how many times do I have to tell you to shut your mouth?” Sam wondered aloud in annoyance, swinging a leg around so that he had one on either side of you. His fingertips trailed up your arm, all the way up to the strap of your sports bra.

Pulling the wide strap away from your shoulder, he released it with a loud snap against your skin.

“Fuck- Sam!” You hissed, hand reaching across your chest to cling to the burning spot on your shoulder.

Sam let out a low chuckle, moving your hair around to your opposite shoulder and pecking soft kisses to the back of your neck.

“What? I want it off.”

With a shaky hand, you reached up to the front zipper running down the middle, wincing at the sound it made. An obnoxious reminder of what you were about to do.

“Jesus christ…” Sam mumbled, unabashedly marveling at your chest as you pulled your bra away from your body.

Barely giving you any time to get it off and toss it to the side, his hands came around to cup both of your breasts in his hands.

A shaky breath was all you were willing to let slip, not wanting him to know just how much his touch was setting your body ablaze with need.

“Is your dress for the competition tomorrow night low cut?” Sam asked seemingly out of the blue, staring at your breasts through the mirror.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “What?”

Sam’s fingers grazed across the swell of your breasts, all the way up to your collarbones. “Will the judges be able to see all this pretty skin?”

“I mean… Yeah, probably so don’t-“

Sam shifted, pulling you down to lay back against his leg. He leaned down over you, mouth sucking dark hickeys along your chest.

“Sam, fuck- You can’t-“ You choked out. Not a single part of you truly wanted him to stop, though. “Damnit, Sam..”

“Yeah, you’re gonna need to cover these up,” Sam smirked wickedly. Of course, he’d put them there just to make your life a little harder. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you a few that you won’t have to put makeup on…”

You relaxed a little deeper into his arms, subtly pushing your chest out more for him. His mouth continued leaving hickeys scattered around your chest, going back over different ones to make them darker. Growing too hot for the leggings you were still wearing, you hooked your thumbs into the hem, not even pushing them down an inch before Sam stopped you.

“Did I tell you to take those off yet?” Sam asked lowly, barely lifting his mouth away from your skin.

“No… But it’s hot.” You huffed, going back to shoving them down your hips.

“You’ve been dancing how many hours now and these are just now getting too hot for you?” Sam smacked one of your hands away, replacing it with one of his own.

“Just take them off, I guess, since you’re obviously not gonna listen.”

You didn’t even try to suppress the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lips. That was definitely going down as a win for you, even though he was right; you were definitely not going to listen.

“Look at that…” Sam gasped in faux shock.

You looked at him in confusion once again, but followed his eyes.

“Oh..” Your eyes landed on the wet spot that had formed over your panties.

“How are you so shy, but such a whore all at once…?” Sam wondered, gliding his fingers over the top of your left thigh. You watched his fingers trace around silently, holding your breath in anticipation for where they were going.

“As much as I’d love to make you beg…” Sam pushed your panties to the side, coating his fingers in your slick and slowly began sinking them inside you. “I’m tired of listening to you talk.”

“Fuck you-“ you snapped through a gasp. Sam moved the two of you around, tilting your face towards the mirror as his fingers continued their slow pace.

“Look at yourself. Fucking pathetic, right?” Sam locked eyes with you through the mirror and you avert yours immediately. “That’s what I was hoping you would do.”

Sam’s thumb joined the mix, rubbing agonizingly slow circle into your clit. A moan of relief bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

“I bet that does feel good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, fully leaning back against the front of Sam’s body.

“Here’s the catch, baby doll,” Sam grinned evilly. Pulling his fingers out of you, he gestured for you to raise your hips up. Skillfully, he tugged your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side somewhere to join your bra and leggings.

With a glance up at the mirror to try and catch your eyes, surprisingly he did and before you could tear your eyes away, he started to speak again. “If you look away, I’ll stop everything… How does that sound?”

“I think that sounds like a dick move.” You breathed out, not sounding nearly as harsh as you wanted to.

“Well, you’ve gotta learn somehow princess. You wanna win, right?” He spoke right into your ear.

A particular curl of his fingers as the slid back into you, sent you lurching forward and grabbing at his wrist. Accompanied by a loud moan that was loud enough to drown out the repeating Beyoncé song.

Sam’s free arm wrapped around you, jerking you back to his chest and holding you there. “Settle down, doll face and look up.”

You forced your eyes up to meet your obscene reflections.

Sam’s hand was buried between your thighs, other arm tightly around your upper body to hold you in place. His face was right beside yours, with perfect access to all the places he needed: Your neck to bite and suck on as he pleased, or your neck - to lean in and whisper his cocky demands.

“Oh, god, Sam…” You whined, eyes closing in pleasure as you circle your hips into Sam’s hand harder.

A dull burn had already started to form in the pit of your stomach. Sam had his own way of knowing of your building orgasm; watching you clench around him through the mirror.

“You better open those eyes if you wanna cum.” Sam warned, pressing his thumb deeper into your bundle of nerves.

“I c-can’t.“ you gritted out, only able to keep your eyes open for a few seconds at a time.

“Mm, that’s too bad.” Sam pulled his fingers out of you, bringing his soaked fingers up to your mouth.

“Open.”

You turned your head away from him, like a baby turning away from food they don’t want.

Sam’s arm wrapped from around you and shoved you forward onto your hands.

“Why are you so fucking impossible? A stubborn. hard-headed. brat.” Sam delivered three harsh smacks to the swell of your ass, each one significantly harder than the one before.

“Sam!” You cried, fingernails digging painfully into the hard floor in search of something to grab onto.

“Should I keep going, or are you gonna do what I say now?” He questioned with raised eyebrows, watching you slouch deeper into the floor.

“I’ll listen, I’ll listen.” you rushed out, looking up to watch Sam without him even having to ask.

Just to be a dick, Sam gave one more harsh smack right over the same spot.

“Atta girl.”

In reward, Sam’s fingers dipped into you again, attacking a whole new spot inside you thanks to the new position.

You moaned loudly, completely giving up on holding to your stubborn act. Sam bit his lip as he watched you. The way you were drinking in your entire appearance and just the current situation you were in. Your eyes swept over your own face, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your mouth hung open slightly open, letting out little gasps and whines. Then on to the rest of your body: Your arms, the way they shakily held you up as Sam’s fingers sent shock waves of pleasure through your body. Your chest, heaving up and down unevenly with each breath. And finally, you pushed yourself a little, eyes landing on where you were connected with Sam’s fingers.

“Awfully vane of you to only look at yourself.” Sam scoffed, deepening the angle of his fingers. “Looking at yourself isn’t gonna do you much good. I’m the one you need to look at.”

You released a noise of irritation, but your eyes traveled up his arm and up to meet his eyes nonetheless.

Sam undeniably had gorgeous eyes, along with an intensity to them that seemed as though they could burn holes into literally anything and anyone.

You fluttered around Sammy’s fingers, trying not to become dizzy as your heart pounded away rapidly in your chest.

“I think you like this. Am I that nice to look at?”

Your blood began to boil at his cockiness and what was once a pleasure filled gaze, quickly shifts into a chilling glare. You hurled a command of your own at him, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Shut up and just make me cum.”

“That all depends on you, doll.” Sam shrugged cooly. “But let’s change it up a bit, shall we?”

Sam removed his fingers from you, beckoning for you to sit up with a nod of his head.

“Lay down.”

“On the floor…?” You hesitated, the spoiled side of you that had only been fucked on nicer surfaces showing through.

“Right here. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You laid back against the cold, hard floor with a long sigh. Sam moved around you, carefully positioning himself between your legs.

“When you get close, I want your eyes on mine while you cum. If you break eye conta-“

“You stop. I fucking get it.”

Clearly becoming incredibly agitated by your attitude for the millionth time, Sam wanted nothing more than to shut you up.

He licked up your center, immediately flicking at your clit with his tongue. Forgetting where you were thanks to his mouth that had been on you for all of 10 seconds, you threw your head back. A groan of pleasure and pain ripped out of you; one hand shooting down to tangle in Sam’s hair, the other to cradle the back of your head.

He chuckled against you, watching you in amusement as you frantically tried to collect yourself.

Sam’s mouth worked against your fervently. His tongue worked against your bundle of nerves in skillful, intricate patterns. Bringing two fingers up to your entrance, he pushed them inside you, immediately searching for that sweet spot inside you.

Within a few short minutes Sam had you pulsing around his fingers. Even though you refused to make hardly a sound, it was evident that he had some sort of effect on you, just by how quickly he brought you closer and closer to that sweet high.

You made it just to the edge of your orgasm and remembered what Sam had told you just minutes ago. You mustered up every bit of courage you had and looked down at Sam, who was already looking up at you.

You stared directly into his eyes and immediately felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

Feeling yourself growing flustered again, you rolled your hips into Sam’s mouth, hastily trying to throw yourself over the edge before he could deny you. Your eyes had done nothing more than briefly shoot up to the ceiling and his mouth was already slowing down to a stop.

“Eyes down here, or I stop.”

“Sam, I- Fuck. Fuck, I hate you.” You said through clenched teeth and choked moans that you were trying to hold back from him.

“I’m blushing, Y/N. Really.” His fingers kept pumping in and out of you, but your clit was void of his mouth. You could already feel your second orgasm dwindling back down to just a dull ache. “You know, it’s a good thing you have me as your partner now. You and Luke would have never pulled this routine off.”

“You know, I think your mouth is better at spouting- bullshit than it is at giving head.” You managed out bitterly, not sounding nearly as venomous as you intended - Although, that definitely didn’t seem to make a difference in Sam’s reaction.

Sam retreated from your core entirely, moving over your body so quickly that you winced slightly.

“You’ll be lucky if you can even god damn dance tomorrow night.” Sam wrapped his hand around your throat, lining himself up with the other and slamming into you.

“I- oh fuck, Sam!” You cried out, Despite your efforts in keeping yourself quiet, not wanting to give Sam the satisfaction of pulling true moans from you.

“Take it, bitch. Or do you wanna run that nasty mouth of yours some more?” Sam spat, tightening his grip around your throat as he mercilessly pounded into you.

“M-maybe you should just smack me in the m-mouth next time.” You stuttered out, half hoping he would do it.

“If that’s your way of asking me to slap you, I think you can do a lot better than that.” Sam rasped, removing his hand from your neck.

“Smack me, Sam. Do it, right here.” You turned your face to the side, gasping loudly when his hand collided with your cheek without even a second thought.

“Oh, fuck- yes! D-Do it again, please-“

He repeated the action with the same amount of force as the first time, clearly more cautious about hurting your face. Regardless, it sent you plummeting straight for your high and Sam knew it.

“God, you’re already close? You’re such a little whore, baby doll.” Sam mocked, bringing his hand in between your bodies and to your clit. “This is how I need you to- be tomorrow night. Fuck— my little dancing slut.”

You couldn’t even find the words to form a quick, bitchy, remark. There was absolutely nothing. Your brain was completely clouded with debilitating, mind numbing, bliss and an ongoing chant of Sam’s name.

“You’re right there. Give me those eyes, let me see them.” Sam demanded, his hips stuttering inside you a few times. If you had even been half coherent, you would have gathered that he was close, too.

Sam’s free hand grabbed your jaw roughly, growing immensely impatient with you. “I’ll get myself off and make you run this dance with my cum dripping out of you. You’ve got about 10 seconds, doll face.”

As simultaneously hot and antagonizing as the idea was, there was no way you were letting him win on such a level.

You pried your eyes open, locking with Sam’s. They were impossibly dark and lust filled, fiery and still holding a bit of that coldness from earlier when the two of you were still practicing.

“Cum for me, baby doll. Look at me while you cum all pretty on my cock.”

You were slammed into your orgasm, like waves slamming against rocks. Your vision grayed out around the edges and whatever else Sam said was completely lost on you.

Sam followed only seconds after you, quickly pulling out and pumping himself through the rest of his high. Swears and groans of pleasure flowed out of him in a constant stream. You’d already started to come down before him, and you were hoping that he was letting go of all his frustration.

Somewhere in your few moments of silence, you realized the music was still playing on a loop.

“Fucking christ…” Sam let out a long, uneven breath.

He stayed over top of you for a moment or two, before he finally got up and walked over to his bag. Retrieving an extra shirt he had, he walked back over to you and knelt down, cleaning you up as best he could.

“Get dressed, doll. Quickly.” Sam tossed your clothes to where you were still sat on the floor as he gathered up his own.

“We’re running this shit ONE more time and then I’m going the hell home.”

@theharryhype @theweightofjake @jordierama @jake-kiszkas-smirk @samsrestingbitchface @belovedsamuel @safety-sammy @positivegvfthings @doodle417 @shutupdevvie

[volleychumps]

« Ghost.

~ the one in which Sakusa Kiyoomi sees you happy after he broke your heart.

format: One-shot

genre: angst

- Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

Warning(s): Use of alcohol, set in after-high school 

One of my older requests I’ve kept, this fic is influenced by the song ‘Ghosts’ by Jeremy Zucker. Although it’s not a song fic, very sad content is ahead. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I told you to wear your gloves.” 

“Whaaat? Why would I do that when your pockets are so warm?” 

“How convenient for you.” 

“Here, put your hands in here with me. Live a little, take your gloves off! It’s so warm~”

Sakusa swallowed. Dark eyes stared blankly through the glass out into the deluge of rain, a slightly damp travel bag seated on the plastic seat next to him, a gentle prod of his fingers making him snap out of it. Komori sends him a worried stare, noting that his cousin seemed to have changed a lot from his travel abroad. 

The slight glimmer in Sakusa’s eyes before he left was just as dimmed the day he boarded that plane. 

“Does anyone else know you’re back in Japan?” 

“Who would I tell?” Sakusa shrugged as his cousin met him with a incredulous stare. “The team is expecting my return-” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Sakusa stiffens, clearing his throat before sipping the warm beverage before him. He didn’t taste anything, eyes flitting over to the half-drunken matcha in his cousin’s cup. That reminds him of- 

“You didn’t tell Y/N?” 

There it is. 

Silence filled the distance between the two before Sakusa’s dark coffee hits the table with a prominent thud. 

“It’s not like she would want to see me.” 

“She could never hate you, you know. Especially after-” 

“Komori.” Sakusa’s stare hardened, fingers clasping at ceramic. Komori’s lips press back together in a thin line, opting to swirl the matcha tea in his cup before bowing his head slightly in apology. 

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Blegh! How do you drink it so strong?” 

“...swap with me.” 

“Don’t tell me you ordered a matcha because you knew I wouldn’t like it.” 

“Ha. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

“Awh, Kiyoomi-Kun!” 

“Gross.” 

The rain was less now, the two figures in the rain under the abandoned shop seeming to dissapitate with the downpour. It was him, holding a girl’s hands in his pockets as he stubbornly adjusts the hat on her head. Two half-drunken drinks that had been swapped sat next to them- 

“Let’s get going, yeah?” Komori stands, having finished his tea as Sakusa rips his gaze away from the familiar scene. 

“You seem tired from all the traveling. Didn’t you get any sleep on the plane?” 

He hasn’t slept well in a long while. 

“I did.” He finishes the americano in one go, ignoring the burn in his throat as he longs for the taste of alcohol. “Lead the way.” 

Sakusa casts one more glance through the glass window. The two figures were nowhere to be seen. 

----------------------------------------------------

His thumb grazed his phone screen over your contact. Backspace. Hello-. Backspace. Delete. Hover over delete option. Back to messages. I’m back in-.

Sakusa sighs through his nose, a futile attempt to release the tightness in his chest, before turning on his side as the sun peeks in through his window. Five hours at most, a lot better than his usual nights. 

Perhaps it was because he knew you were a mere cardrive away. 

“Why are you here?” 

“...it was on the way.” 

“So...what can I do for you?” 

Silence. 

“Unless....no way, did you miss me?” 

“No.” 

“You answered too fast, meaning you’re lying.”

“So what if I did?” 

“Come here Kiyoomi, spend the night.” 

He throws his phone. 

--------------------------------------------------------

“You hurt her, you know that?” 

“Is she...doing okay?” 

Sugawara sighs heavily, running a hand through his gray locks across from the stoic boy. Sakusa was lucky at least one of your friends was willing to give him the time of day, seated across one of your more gentle friends in the university library. 

“...she’s doing fine. She’s holding down a gig at Onigiri Miya while she finishes her degree.” Sugawara stands, guilt filling his hazel eyes before hardening slightly. “But you don’t get to ask about her.” 

“I know.”

“You walked away from her when all she did was give you everything her world had to offer.”  

Sakusa grits his teeth. “I know.” 

“Do you?” Sugawara wasn’t easily irritated, flipping a page in his textbook before meeting your ex with an even stare. “If you knew how hard it was for everyone to pick up the pieces-” 

“Thanks for meeting me.” Sakusa’s chair scraped the floor as he stood abruptly, heart pounding in his ears. He felt Suga’s stare on his back as he exited the library, stopping at the exit as his breathing picks up. 

“Am I even allowed here?” 

“It’s fine. Relax! You look like a Uni student.”

“...Y/N.” 

“Hm?”

“I-” 

“Sakusa?” 

It had been a whole year since he heard that voice, not haunting his dreams, but in reality. Dark eyes widen a fraction as his breath catches in his throat at the smile that spreads across your lips. You had gotten more beautiful than the image his mind spun back and forth, rooting him in place.

“You’re back?” 

“...Mm.” 

“That’s great! Tell the team I’m looking forward to your welcome home party tonight. It was great seeing you.” 

Sakusa’s lips parted, but no words came out. He was taken back abruptly as your shoulder brushed his as you walked past

“Don’t be a burden.” 

“K-Kiyoomi, how could you-?” 

“I don’t need to leave something annoying behind me when I leave to train.”

“Something? Kiyoomi, it’s me. It’s us-” 

“Don’t wait for me.” 

“I will! You just need to say the word, and-” 

“Are you usually this pathetic? We were never in love, Y/N. You were just convenient.” 

“You’re lying-!” 

“Good luck, Y/N. I don’t know when or if I’ll be back. Don’t look for me.”

He needed to let you go, no matter what lies stain his tongue. He needed you to be okay without him, not looking out the window everyday in hopes that promises over text and call were enough. 

And that was the day he brushed past you, a stream of even tears falling from your widened eyes as your heart shattered in your chest- 

not realizing that the sight of Sakusa’s back shielded the view of the single trickling tear down his cheek. 

But still, he kept walking. 

“Y/N.” 

Dark eyes widen when you flinch on instinct, Sakusa’s hand hovering in mid-air over your arm before your smile is back. His chest tightens as he realizes that it’s merely polite, not holding the same love it once did. 

You tilted your head, and Sakusa could feel his fingers tremble at the shine in your eyes. 

“I gotta go, Sakusa. Suga’s waiting. It was great to see you though, you look good.”

It was his turn to watch your back as unshed heat brimmed his eyes, but you don’t look back to notice. 

...Sakusa?

-------------------------------------------

“I need to go for a walk.” 

“What? Dude, this is your party.” Atsumu blinks in disbelief as Bokuto and Hinata chow down on plate after plate of onigiri. His friends bustle around the shop, but you were no where to be seen. 

“Five minutes, you imbecile. I won’t run away.”

“You better not!” Atsumu slurs, on the edge of absolutely hammered as he flashes Sakusa a wide thumbs-up. “You’ll make our guests sad!” 

Out of everyone in this party, he wanted to see you the most.

Sakusa manages to make it out the back door, planning to watch for your arrival until he sees your figure seated not far away in the grass, cradling a single drink in your hand as your eyes stare up at the clouded stars. Faded, but they were barely there as your eyes seemed to be questioning the world up above. 

It was a lie. 

Sakusa’s nails bit into his palms. 

It wasn’t just convenient for him. 

He swallows back the lump in his throat. 

You were his world. His first and last love. 

He begins to take a step-

Please let him be your last. 

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” 

He stops in place, watching from mere feet away as Osamu Miya plops down in the grass next to you. You jokingly protest as Osamu takes your drink, taking a swig from it before looking at you with something in his eyes. 

No. It wasn’t something new to Sakusa, because that’s the way he used to look at you. 

“...He came back.” Your voice was almost a whimper, and Osamu gently tugs you to lean your head on his shoulder.

“I know.” 

“I’m happy, Osamu.” 

“I didn’t say anythin’.” 

Sakusa should’ve walked away. He should’ve willed his feet to move, but he couldn’t. All his dark eyes could do was watch as you rolled your eyes playfully, tugging the drink out of Osamu’s hands before setting it down and cupping his face with one hand-

Doing that thing where your hand slipped into Osamu’s denim jacket pocket. 

“I love you. He was the past. You are my present. And...my future, hopefully?”

Osamu’s lip twitches upwards as he turns his face so he can kiss your palm that’s cupping his cheek. 

“I know, princess. You’re allowed to be sad, I’m not a monster.” Osamu pauses, thinking for a second before nodding once. “Unless you want me to be a monster, I can beat-” 

He’s cut off as you roll your eyes, smiling as you kiss him so lovingly- 

Ah. This must’ve been how you felt the day he left you in pieces. 

Sakusa wanted to scream, but a warm trickle of wetness slipped down his cheeks instead as it began to rain, the clouded stars turning darker ironically as Sakusa realizes that the shop he’s standing outside of-

the abandoned one where he kept you warm that winter night. 

It was now Onigiri Miya. 

He felt his legs almost give out as he stumbles to the side of the building, shielding him from view as your panicked laughs sound over the rain. 

“Y/N. I...I think I-”

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?” 

“I’ll love you more than you’ll ever know.” 

Sakusa couldn’t tell if the drops on his face was the rain, feeling like he was floating as his skin became numb to the cold.

In fact, he wished that this was one of his dreams, the ones where he punished himself with images of you in his arms. 

That way, he could keep on living with your ghost.

--------------------------------------------------

Brb It’s not like I’m vv sad as I write this. 

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles   @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @nekomawhore @holaaaf@babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle

[oreoambitions]

Supercorp and 29 for that prompt post!👉🏻👈🏻

Things you said in the rain:

Lena is out in the rain before she's given the situation much rational thought. It's not just raining, it's pouring, and she's left her umbrella, her book, and her drink all on the table at the coffee shop, but it doesn't matter doesn't matter doesn't matter anymore. She'll buy another umbrella. Another copy of the book. The latte is ashes in her mouth just now anyway. Behind her in her favorite rosy succulent studded coffee shop, William smiles his perfect dazzling smile at Kara, and Kara smiles back at him, and Lena isn't looking at them but she can imagine it so clearly and the last thing she needs is to turn around and confirm that this is all really happening. She stumbles a few steps down the sidewalk, across the street without looking, a few steps further so that when she looks back at the coffee shop she can no longer see the two of them standing at the register.

Fuck. All she wanted was a cozy Saturday afternoon to herself. A quiet afternoon. Lattes with lavender and honey, that flaky blueberry danish for which she'd first visited this place months ago, hours and hours alone with her book amid the rumble and bustle of the city.

What she got was a front row seat to Kara's dating life, an in-person confirmation of the social media rumors that have surrounded Kara and William for weeks now, and she feels like she's going to throw up. The realization that she's shaking is sudden and wrenches a sharp laugh from her throat, prompting passerby to cut a wider berth around her. Life is such a joke. A cruel, stupid, senseless joke. It figures that Lena would win back Kara's friendship, work up the courage to maybe, possibly, potentially ask her on an Actual Date, and immediately lose her to someone like William Dey.

The cynical, protective side of her whispers that if that's Kara's type, she never stood a chance anyway. It was wishful thinking, working up that courage. Real life doesn't work that way; Lena has known that for a long time and she's more the fool for forgetting it where Kara is concerned.

But it's so easy to forget when Kara's around. When it comes to Kara, Lena wants to forget every one of life's hard earned lessons. All the more reason to keep them at the forefront of her mind.

Lena is still standing there, shaking, drenched, gazing out at nothing. Well, she can't stand here forever. She fumbles for her phone, tries to swipe the unlock with wet fingers, but touchscreens and water aren't friends, and damn it all to hell. She'll have to get dry before she can call a car. She'll have to-

A warm jacket falls across her shoulders and the smell of Kara washes over her. Kara comes around in front of her to pull the jacket more closely around her, to brush a wet strand of hair from Lena's face.

"Hey," she says. "Hey, are you- Of course you're not okay. You're crying."

"I'm not crying," Lena snaps, but Kara is right. Somewhere between her laughter and the realization that her phone is useless outside in a storm, the tears have arrived.

"What happened?" Kara asks. "Rao, we should get you inside; you're shivering."

The thought of going inside, back to that stupid coffee shop, back to William, makes Lena feel physically ill. She pulls Kara's jacket possessively around her even as she grumbles that she doesn't need it, that Kara is getting drenched. Not that it matters to Kara, as impervious to the cold as she is to bullets and sometimes to common sense. "I'm fine," Lena mutters. "I just need to call a car home."

Kara reaches for her phone. "Is your phone dead? I can call-"

"No," Lena interrupts. "No, it's fine. I don't want to interrupt your- your date. I'm sorry, just- Thank you for the jacket; I'll have it cleaned."

Kara's brows knit. She reaches forward to hold Lena at the elbow, reaches up with the other hand to brush another lock of hair away. "What are you doing out here?"

Lena recognizes the change of subject for what it is: Kara is trying to take another route to the answers she wants, trying to work around Lena's refusal to talk. She recognizes the tactic, and she recognizes that Kara hasn't denied that she's on a date, and she spits out, "This is my favorite coffee shop. Or it was."

Kara glances back across the street to where, presumably, William is waiting for her. Her brow furrows further. "I didn't know that," she says. "William and I were just looking for somewhere a little more... discreet. Than Noonan's, I mean. We didn't want anyone to see us together."

Together. And there it is. Lena steps back, wrenching her elbow from Kara's grasp, and looks away. "He seems very nice," she lies. "I hope you two are very happy together."

"Lena, I- What?" Kara tips her head to one side, a visible calculus taking place in her expression. "William and I aren't- Oh! This is a work date, not a date date. Lena, do you honestly think I'd be on a real, like, boyfriend-vetting date dressed like this? Look at me."

As if Lena can help looking at Kara when she's standing out here in a downpour. The water has turned her pale blue buttondown nearly sheer, and it clings to her in all the right places, accenting muscled shoulders and the shadow of a sports bra and the shape of toned obliques. Her chinos are cut just tight enough to make Lena want to run her palms up those thighs, across the hip bones just visible where her shirt is tucked in.

Lena licks her lips and drags her eyes back to Kara's face, the last flicker of all that summoned courage bright in her chest when she says, "I think you look absolutely stunning dressed like this. Handsome. Beautiful. I- I would love it if you'd dress like this for a date. With me, I mean."

Kara's mouth falls open a little, and a soft flush creeps across her cheeks. "I'd uhm. I'd dress up a little more. For a date with you, specifically." And then her eyes widen as realization dawns. "Are you- Were you in the coffee shop just now? Did you - Are you out here in the rain because you thought William and I were- Oh, Rao, Lena." She steps forward again and, when Lena doesn't move to maintain the distance between them, she grasps Lena gently by the biceps and pulls her just one half step closer so that Lena has to look up a little to meet her eyes.

"He clearly adores you," Lena chokes out. It's not like it's a secret; surely everyone in National City has noticed by now that William wants nothing more than he wants than Kara Danvers on his arm.

"Yes," Kara confirms. "But we're here working on a project we - Rao, I shouldn't be telling you this - we're submitting an article under a pseudonym to another publication, and we didn't want anyone at CatCo to see us working on it. And for the record he did ask me out a couple of weeks ago, and I said no. No hard feelings. It's just- I mean you're right, he is very nice when he wants to be, but I have my eye on someone else."

Lena's heart tries to swoop and crumple at the same time.

"Well whoever it is should consider themselves very lucky to-"

Kara darts forward with a kiss, chaste and light against her lips, then lingers there a moment while Lena catches up. “Sorry,” she whispers, “It’s just- You weren’t gonna ask who it was, and I didn’t know how else to tell you, and I- I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try that at least once.” Lena opens her mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Kara just kissed her. Kara. Out here in the rain in front of just anyone who might be walking by, Kara Danvers kissed- Is kissing her, because when Lena doesn't move away Kara leans in again to capture her bottom lip. She slides her hands up Lena's arms, fingertips dancing across her neck, to cup her face. Lena finds purchase on Kara's hips and tugs, willing her to move closer, and she does, pulling Lena's body flush against her even as she licks into her mouth.

Lena is shaking now for reasons entirely unrelated to jealousy or grief or the rain. Kara is so warm warm warm against her, and her tongue is sliding across Lena's, and one hand is pressed now to the small of Lena's back encouraging her impossibly closer still, and Lena thinks she may have died. She may have actually been hit by a car on her way across the street and maybe this is the hallucination she's having in the seconds before brain function ceases because there's just no way that Kara is really kissing her, and there's just no way that Kara kissing her is really this good.

Kara has a fistful of Lena's hoodie and she tugs on it when she whimpers against Lena's lips, when she slides her hand from Lena's cheek to the back of her neck, when Lena boldly demands entrance to her mouth in turn. When they break away it's only to rest against one another, forehead to forehead, mouths swollen, tasting one another's labored breath. Lena reaches up to trace her thumb across Kara's cheekbone, and she's got her eyes closed but she imagines anyway that she's drawing lines between her freckles like constellations in the sky. Lord knows she's long since memorized them all. She drags her thumb across Kara's bottom lip and sighs.

"Wasn't expecting that," she whispers.

Kara lets out a soft laugh. "So can I have that date then?" she murmurs. "I promise I'll wear something a little nicer. Maybe a vest."

Lena's mouth goes a little dry at the thought of Kara in formal men's wear. "Friday?"

"I was hoping you'd say tonight," Kara says. "Don't really want to wait. Kind of a lot I'd like to do with you that you uhm. That you aren't really supposed to do before the first date. Or maybe the third date."

Lena nearly chokes on air. "Like what?" she asks, praying that Kara's eyes are also closed, that she can't see deep flush spreading across Lena's skin at the thought of all the things Kara might be referring to. She's thinking about the bedroom, about Kara's vest haphazard on the floor, about undoing every button on that shirt, chasing fumbling fingers with her tongue, when Kara whispers her answer.

"Like tell you that I love you," she says. "That I'm in love with you, and I want to be with you, and to belong to you, and to-"

Lena cuts her off with another kiss and a soft chuckle, half at Kara's earnestness and half at herself. "Dinner at six then," she says. "You wear that vest and I promise you, I'll make you mine by the end of the night."

Kara swallows hard and Lena smirks. Kara’s words are sweet, but maybe Lena's not the only one with less than innocent intentions after all. /// Thank you for the ask!

[musicallisto]

Ψ — 𝐜𝐨́𝐦𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫; (leo valdez x reader)

@fives-cup-of-coffee​ requested: Hi can I please get Leo Valdez (Hoo) + number 142? Tysm,bb ! Love your blog💗💗 song: morat - cómo te atreves | 𝄞

summary: In which Leo Valdez was having a good day. That is, of course, until you showed up.

word count: 1.9k author notes: at first I wanted to make it light-hearted & comical as the song would suggest and then it progressively got more serious and angstier and then I just have no idea where it went lol I hate it here. I hope you like this! + stan Morat they’re amazing warnings: there’s like one bad word in Spanish and I hope it’s not too Spaniard bc I looked everywhere for a Mexican equivalent of “cagüendios” asdjdj Mexicans please correct me

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐙 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 have had the boldness of saying he was having a good day. No bloodthirsty monster nor megalomaniac Titan had decided to take over the world or rip him to pieces; he hadn’t had to dodge a meteor or plunge into the heart of a volcano; and to top it all off, he had not heard Percy sing once.

No, really, despite the cold, biting wind that froze the February morning, Leo Valdez was having a good day.

That is, of course, until you showed up.

Maybe it was his wind-swept curls blocking his eyes, maybe it was the whirring of Festus’ mechanical breathing under his fingertips, maybe it was the total peace of mind that inhabited him as he whistled to himself, but he had been impervious to his surroundings, surrendered to the memory of his aerial stroll with Calypso earlier in the morning, completely devoted to patching the dragon’s attrition up, so much so that he hadn’t heard you approaching at all. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting your visit after this many years, especially not on a cold morning in the woods of Long Island.

“Leo?”

“Woah, buddy, your clicks are starting to sound more and more like a real human voice. I might have to celebrate your first word soon.”

“Leo Valdez, behind you.”

He whirled around, and stupidly enough, the first thought that went through his mind was disappointment—so Festus wasn’t learning human communication after all, despite his best efforts. But when Leo pushed the hair out of his face and devised for the first time in four years your slightly embarrassed figure, hands buried in your pockets and abashed smile on your face, he couldn’t stop his jaw and heart from dropping.

So the suspect, gravelly grunt he had heard just before was not Festus protesting—duly noted. It was you, impatiently—and rather awkwardly—scratching your throat to catch his attention... You! After four years!

“Y/N?” he called out, and the way your name rolled off his tongue, with incredulity yet ease, was enough to remind you of how familiar his voice had once been.

“In the flesh. Ta-da,” you tentatively exclaimed, unsure about whether you should step toward him.

Leo seemed just as lost and confused as you were, eyeing you without truly processing it. No one, nothing had ever prepared him to face the return of someone he’d loved so dearly after losing them for so long. No prophecy had foretold any of this, no mischievous god had ever sent a cryptic message in a dream or smoke patterns. One day he had more or less started to accept the unshakeable hole you had dug in his heart when you left, and that he had tried to fill up as well as he could with new memories and songs and adventures — and the next you were waltzing back into his life as though he hadn’t spent the better part of four years struggling to forget you?

He took a small step forward without realizing it, but his body language read all but cordiality. A bubble of irritation started to form in the pit of his stomach and throat; he had started to fidget with his adjustable spanner.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Behind him, Festus grated, a low and rumbling sound like still water stirring upon the approach of a storm. Leo swore he heard his heartbeats echoed in the loyal beast’s enormous ribcage.

“What do you want from me, Y/N? Haven’t you done enough?”

Oh, you had done more than enough. When you were friends and he had first fallen for you — you had mended his broken heart, stayed by his side as everyone went on to celebrate life and renewal and he was stuck in the downpour that Calypso’s first departure had wreaked. That was more than enough. When you were just a little more than friends and he had started to learn anew, step by step, what it meant to love, and first and foremost let himself be loved — you had been patient and kind, you had walked hand in hand with him on the road to healing, never pushing him to go further than he could. That was more than enough. When you were definitely more than friends, and he had found himself falling deeper in love with you with each passing day — you had loved him all the same, or so you promised, and made his every day an adventure and a safe embrace like no other. That was more than he ever deserved.

When you had left without warning for some foreign place on the other side of the world, leaving him only a note and a handful of colored glass shards, never to give a sign of life in four years...

That was more than enough.

You had dared to take one step forward, palms outstretched as if you were calming a wild animal. A frenzy of conflicting flames bubbled in Leo’s stomach — you were a stranger now to him, and he was once again happy with Calypso. Then why did he get the overwhelming urge to jump into your arms and rediscover the sweetness of your embrace?

“I’m so sorry, Leo, I never wanted to leave, I truly didn’t, but you have to understand —”

“Understand what? That whatever business you had to attend to was more important than me? That I meant so little to you that you just left me a post-it note with a sad smiley face on it and never came back? You didn’t send a word in four years! I bet you didn’t even think about me on February 29th!”

“Actually I left in April, but —”

“Can you imagine how hard it was for me to get over you? To forget you? No, scratch that—I haven’t forgotten you, no matter how hard I try to convince myself. But I was doing just fine, and you have a whole lotta nerve coming back now that I’m finally happy without you! ¡Pues huevos! ¡Al carajo todo esto!”

And he went on and on in a string of all the curses he’d remembered from when his mother argued on the phone, his cheeks reddening progressively, his breath faltering.

You stayed immobile, just an arms’ length apart from him until he had spewed out everything he’d carried for years. His chest trembled, shuddering at all the dust and waste it had swept under the rug, now displayed in full light before him; and you ached for him, underneath your cool composure, you truly did, just as you had ached yourself when you had left. How could you not? Leo had been light and warmth and fire and a comforting smell of smoke and gasoline and coffee-stained fingertips on your cheek and your neck... and most of all, the heart you would least have wanted to break.

“Leo...”

You murmured his name a few more times, until he looked up at you. Oh, that face, red and weepy and distorted by rage and overwhelm! How you hated it in those moments, like a cheap mask over a Roman statue!

“Leo, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but trust me, I would never have done that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“What was, Y/N? What was more important than me?”

“I... I can’t tell you, Leo. I would if I could, but — “

“Of course! Even after four years, you’re still so full of secrets!”

“Jupiter told me not to say anything. To anyone.”

Leo’s parted lips, already fuming with more witty remarks, closed shut, and his chocolate eyes widened. The god of gods’ name was always enough to temper even the most boisterous of heroes’ fumes of anger, but not Leo’s erratic heart.

“Jupiter?”

“I got a mission from the gods. That’s why I left. To Rome. But they made me swear I didn’t say anything... not even an excuse.”

Leo swallowed, with difficulty, as if the information was a toxic flame permeating his throat. Before he could even register it, you continued, breathing deeply to steady your breathing:

“I owe you more than an apology... an explanation, at least. If you want to hear it... meet me in the woods at the gate of Camp Half-Blood at sundown. I’d understand if you didn’t come, but... just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

For a split second, you were traversed by the thought, almost automatic, of leaning over to kiss Leo’s cheek, just like you had done it thousands of times to wish him goodbye; but you cut your impulses fast enough, only staring at his eyes for a few long minutes of dumbfounded silence before you turned on your heels and left.

In a single blink, the wind had caught your silhouette and carried it into the shadows of the trees.

And Leo stood there, colder than he would have admitted, motionless and partly oblivious to Festus’ impatient whirring over his shoulder. His chest rose and fell rapidly, quicker than the leaves rustling in the breeze; it had dried in his eyes too much for any tears to well up, despite the painful pang spreading in his chest. Had it not been for the weight in his ribcage, he could’ve believed you were but a ghost in the forest...

When you had left him without a word nor even a glimpse of a smile, Jason had admonished him to be brave and stronger than whatever misery you had inflicted; to not let any of your little games gnaw at his head and drive him wild. It was how Jason had always dealt with heartbreak and hardship because he was built of cold marble and electric stone; but despite Leo’s best efforts to follow his advice, he was Hephaestus’s son. Neither of them was exactly known for their fine handling of matters of the heart...

He had believed his inalterable strength would come back to him with Calypso. It was an endless ebb and flow between the two of you, each consoling him after the other left and tore a little piece of his heart. She had promised she’d be better — better than you, or than herself the first time around, he didn’t know, but he had believed her all the same.

But maybe what Leo had mistakenly taken for strength when he laughed himself to death with Calypso and captured her entirely with his lips, might have been solely absence. He had always had a knack for following in your steps... just like you had slipped from his embrace without a word, he had disappeared from himself imperceptibly.

Maybe he loved Calypso, truly and sincerely... but not in the way that allowed him to find himself.

Well, to hell with courage, with Jason’s heroic virtue and rectitude. Leo was realizing just then that the reason he clung so desperately to your memory was that he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet, and if it made him a coward, he accepted the fate with open arms.

“Come on, buddy,” Leo exhaled, a little shaky still. “Let’s get you patched up before sundown.”

Maybe it was a good day after all.

Or just a less-than-awful one at the very least.

tagging; @fives-cup-of-coffee​​ @softeninglooks​​ (all my writing) / @lxncelot​​ (Riordanverse)

[simp-for-mha-men]

𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 (𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕒 𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Request by @hermionie-is-my-queen​: Hey! Not necessarily a request, and kind of a scenario proposal: but imagine aizawa and reader adopted a cat a while back together, and the cat gets sick, or has to be put down, and it’s just some comforting fluff? Idk if this falls into the category of no angst so if it does instead maybe visiting a shelter to adopt a new kitty? Tysm anyway! Soft aizawa and soft kitties are my fav

A/N: Yes, yes, and yes! I am so in love with this whole idea. I took a little bit of inspiration from the English voice actor’s Tik Tok and from where I live for this one. School just started back up, too, so I’ll now be taking a bit longer to reply to requests. Sorry! Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it!

Genre: fluffy times with a rescue cat and your boyfriend, angst in the first half due to animal death 🌧️💜

Word count: 2.7k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

It had only been a month. One month ago, you lost your precious siamese cat, Willow. Your boyfriend, Shouta Aizawa, had given her to you once you moved into your first apartment together. She was a gift that kept on giving, whether it was hairballs or purrs. She kept you company through the day while your boyfriend was teaching his students, and you both would welcome him home with kisses and cuddles every day.

Aizawa loved Willow just as much as you did. You were both the lights in his life, and without you, he would feel incomplete. After the worst days at U.A., he could come home and feel at peace due to the loves of his life. It tore him up inside that Willow was gone, but he knew the loss broke you apart even worse than it did him.

He adopted Willow when she was 11. The shelter he went to, usually just to browse, was going to put her down just because of her age. Aizawa formed a bond when he looked into her ocean blue eyes. He knew that she would be perfect not only for him but for you as well. In a matter of minutes, the adoption papers were signed and finalized. A beautiful forest green bow was placed around her neck, and she was on her way to meet the better half of her new owner. The three of you were inseparable when home. Midnight cuddles and afternoon snacks were always a favorite among your little family. Despite you and Aizawa never talking about kids in your future, you felt like Willow was your daughter. It was true perfection and bliss. Sadly, it couldn’t last forever.

When Willow turned 13, she started acting strange. She began hiding around the house more, throwing up whenever she ate, and losing an excessive amount of weight. You decided a check-up was in order, and Aizawa whole-heartedly agreed. Praying for a fluke incident was what you did, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t going to be the case no matter how much you wished it to be. Her vet told you both that she had cancer and wouldn’t live much longer. This caused your world to come spiraling down.

How someone handles the five stages of grief depends on the person. For you, Willow was absolutely fine. You were in absolute denial. Over the two years you and Aizawa raised her, she was always healthy. There was absolutely no way that she could have cancer. Healthy cats don’t get cancer, right? You went about your life with Willow as if everything was normal. Aizawa tried to knock some sense into you, but you blocked it out. A week later, a certain piece of information triggered the second stage of grief.

Aizawa told you that he would be staying home to take care of Willow with you, since she was living her final weeks. Saying you were furious would be an understatement. You took your boyfriend onto the balcony and yelled at him for 15 minutes about how Willow was completely normal. You told him that everything was fine and that she would live longer than what the vet said. Seeing you were too stubborn to change, Aizawa refused talking to you about the matter but still took those extra days off. It lasted like this another week before another trip to the vet.

Once you got home that night, you found yourself on your knees next to the bed. You were praying to whatever deity was in the sky or under the ground to save Willow. You didn’t know if bargaining with the immortal was a sane idea, but you had entered the third stage. Aizawa watched you do this every hour of the day, it seemed. He heard you muttering to yourself in your sleep, begging for Willow’s safety. None of this worked, though. Two weeks after the visit, Willow was back at the vet to be put down for good.

The last month had gone by agonizingly slow. Your boyfriend was back at work, leaving you alone to your own devices. The depression had been the longest stage. You wondered to yourself if you would ever get to the acceptance part of the five stages. Nothing you did to try and clear your mind worked. You tried to write, draw, sing, and dance, but nothing seemed successful. Most days, you were confined to your side of your shared bed, sobbing your eyes out until they looked unusually red and puffy.

Losing an animal shouldn’t hurt this much. You had a cat when you were younger, and when she was put down, you were only upset for a week before understanding it was time to move on. Why did losing Willow hurt so much. The question plagued you day and night. You racked your brain trying to figure out why this pain wouldn’t subside. Why did it sting so badly? Why did the tears keep falling?

When you were starting dinner one evening, your boyfriend came home. He seemed to be in a good mood, which was strange for someone like him. He came around, gave you a quick peck on the cheek, and leaned against the counter next to the stove.

“How was your day, babe?” you asked, mustering up as much fake happiness as possible.

You flashed your lover a quick smile, hoping it hid the pain better than you thought it did. However, you had been dating this man for 3 years. He knew you all too well. Willow’s death had affected you so much, which caused him to mull over it for longer than expected. An animal’s death was, of course, sad, but people usually got over it quickly. Why was it taking you longer?

“Are you alright?” your boyfriend questioned, placing a hand on your upper arm.

Sighing, you answered, “Of course I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

You both began a waltz to avoid each other. You stood on the opposite side of the island, setting the places on the table for the both of you to eat. Right as Aizawa met you, you sauntered off back to the stove to turn off the burner. It went on like this for much longer while your words went at each other.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“(y/n)...you’re not.”

“Just shut up, ok?”

“Listen to me...”

“SHUT UP!”

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning struck outside. The deafening boom from the sky sounded next. In a matter of seconds, a downpour began outside and inside the apartment. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Aizawa froze, giving you time to finally realize why Willow’s death meant so much to you. It was right in front of you the whole time, but your ignorance caused blindness. Just as your boyfriend began to approach you, the tears and truth spilled over.

“She was like our baby,” you began. “Once I moved in with you, I was so scared that you would break up with me. Willow brought us together. No matter what had happened on a bad day, she would fix us back up. It’s like I lost a part of our relationship, Shouta.”

Aizawa was shocked to say the least. In actuality, Aizawa was completely caught off by your statement. He never knew you felt this way about Willow. He knew you had developed a close bond with the feline, but he should’ve noticed sooner the parental role you took for her. He felt like a terrible boyfriend. He felt like he should’ve found a way to keep Willow alive longer. He felt like her death was his fault.

“(y/n), I’m sorry I should’ve--”

“Meow.”

Both of you came to your senses. Did you really just hear a meow? Had Willow come out of her grave to come back to you both? Aizawa looked at you, causing your tears to stop for a moment. Another flash of lightning struck, followed by the familiar thunder. Then, you heard it again.

“Meeeeow.”

Your brain was going crazy. You were already running on endorphins due to the sudden outburst you had at your lover. Now, you felt your fight or flight responses kick in. There’s no way there was a cat at your apartment. Sure, you lived in an area where an animal could get lost, but a stray cat would never be near your complex.

“Meow.”

Taking a deep breath in, you tried to calm your nerves. Silently cursing your boyfriend’s senses, you heard him shuffling over to you. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your forehead. Aizawa felt guilty. He knew that a cat wouldn’t be outside in this weather, especially if it was a stray. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. His guilty conscience was in full force, or maybe it wasn’t?

“Meeeeow.”

“Ok,” you said, slowly tilting your head up to meet your boyfriend’s gaze. “Please tell me you’re hearing the meowing, too.”

“It’s real?” Aizawa asked, gazing at you with confused eyes.

Shaking your head, you slithered out of his arms. Despite your mind telling you this was a bad idea, you decided to stick with your sudden plan. You were going to check outside. You didn’t know what you would find, but it was worth the risk. Wherever this cat was, you had to find it. You weren’t doing this for you, however, but for Willow.

Placing your hand on the front door knob, you unlocked it and slowly opened it just a little bit. That’s when you saw it. A beautiful tabby cat sat on your front mat, meowing to its heart’s content. It was drenched, laying against the door in search of some warmth. The poor little angel was shivering, but it looked up upon sensing your presence.

“Well, hello there,” you greeted, opening the door wider.

“Meeeeow.”

You bent down and sat on your knees, cooing the little creature forward. Taking your invitation, it sauntered over to you. Once your hand made contact with its back, the cat began rubbing its wet body all over your leg. Laughing slightly, you turned to look at Aizawa.

He was staring at you with true adoration in his eyes. He knew from the moment he met you that you were the one, but this tender moment between you and a stray cat solidified that even more. It was perfect. You were perfect. Despite the past month, he realized what this new stray would mean to you immediately. Willow sent him or her as a gift from heaven. That much had to be true. It was her way of saying that everything would be alright.

“I’ll get some food and water for the little one,” Aizawa said, walking over to first close the door.

“Make sure to get a towel first,” you replied. “I don’t want this poor baby getting sick from being to cold. Right, sweetie?”

The cat gazed at you with thankfulness in its eyes. You felt much different than you had just a few minutes ago. You were no longer sad about Willow. Instead, you were happy her pain had ended when it did, even if it wasn’t in the best way. Somehow, this little stray just happened to choose your doorstep. Your heart was starting to feel whole again. That’s how you came to a simple conclusion: this was fate. The stage of acceptance was finally in your sight.

You and Aizawa resumed your waltz around the kitchen, but this time, things were much different. It felt like the day Aizawa first brought Willow home. You immediately took on the role of the parent, watching your new friend’s every move to make sure it didn’t hurt itself. Once Aizawa brought you a towel, you sat on the couch and began drying off the cat. You discovered during this that you had found an adorable little boy, proud and frisky from his recent adventure.

Aizawa set the food and water out, luring the tabby out of your lap and to the kitchen. He lapped everything greedily, only further confirming that this was indeed a stray. Walking over to your boyfriend, you stopped once you reached his side.

“I’m sorry,” you began, lacing your fingers with his.

“Oh, don’t be,” he replied, smoothly changing the position you both were in so he could snuggle your neck. “I should’ve taken off time from work and been there for you. It was wrong of me to think our lives would go back to normal.”

“But, still..”

“(y/n)...just let me hold you.”

You did what he asked. You let him wrap his arms around you as you both watched your new boy. Unspoken between the two of you was what was going to happen with your newfound cat: you were going to keep him. Of course, he would need to pay for his shots, a proper bath, and new amenities, but that was a thing for the future. Aizawa knew you would bring it up tomorrow morning, worrying about it profusely, and you knew Aizawa would tell you to stop worrying so much, peppering your face in kisses as a distraction.

Once the cat was finished eating, he walked over and began rubbing himself against Aizawa’s leg. Realizing he needed to be warmed up, you reached down and picked him up. He clearly enjoyed being showered in attention and didn’t pull away when you both began talking to him.

“What do you think?” Aizawa questioned.

You knew what he was talking about: his name. Despite only finding this cat outside of your doorstep 20 minutes ago, you both knew this was his new forever home. The name was an important part of claiming a pet, which you made sure to educate Aizawa about before naming Willow. This, however, wasn’t a tough decision like Willow’s name.

“I was thinking Thunder,” you replied softly, gazing into your lover’s eyes.

He hummed in response, alerting you that he liked that name. You purposely chose that name due to the circumstances you found him in, but you also had an ulterior motive. You eventually wanted to get another cat and name it Lightning. Why? Easy answer: why not?

Suddenly, your boyfriend let go of your waist. Turning around, you noticed he began walking off to the bedroom. It was only 7:30, but, of course, your lover was already exhausted. That was one of the qualities you loved about him, though. He could always fall asleep easily.

“You didn’t eat dinner,” you called after him.

“I know,” he replied in a low voice, “but wouldn’t you rather fall asleep with the man you love?”

His words made you blush, but he wasn’t wrong. With Thunder in your arms and dinner long forgotten, you made your way over to your bedroom. Upon entering, you saw your boyfriend was already laying down and waiting for you to join him. You placed Thunder on the bed and went to lay down next to your lover. He placed his arms around you, making you fell safe and secure before someone interrupted you both.

Thunder began slowly crawling up to lie in between you. Chuckling, Aizawa left a little bit of room between your bodies for your new baby to curl up between you both. It felt natural. It felt like home again. It was just you, your boyfriend, and your cat. Willow, you could tell, was smiling down from heaven. You knew she could be fully at peace now knowing you were happy.

“I love you so much,” you mumbled to your boyfriend, allowing your eyes to close.

“I love you, too, kitten,” Aizawa replied, drifting off to sleep and allowing your breaths to match one another.

This was home. This was family. This was perfection for the both of you. Now, Aizawa went to bed with a single question on his mind. It was quite simple but also heavy. When was he going to place that wonderful ring on your finger?

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Rescued Kittens

Credit goes to anon who requested Freddie and Jim finding and caring for abandoned kittens

When Jim returned home from the Savoy that evening, he hadn’t expected to find a battered, crumbling cardboard box sitting outside the gate to Garden Lodge in the pouring rain. He especially hadn’t expected to open said box and find three tiny, shivering kittens huddled inside, mewling in fear as thunder rumbled in the distance.

The sight itself was enough to break a grown man’s heart. Blinking back tears, Jim shrugged off his coat and carefully wrapped the crying babies inside it to protect them from the torrential downpour. As soon as he was indoors, he carried the bundle into the lounge, where Freddie was tinkering away at the piano. When the singer noticed his drenched husband, he smiled sympathetically and stood up to greet the Irishman with a kiss as usual.

‘Hello darling.’ He leaned forward and gently pecked Jim at the corner of his mouth. ‘Absolutely abysmal weather, isn’t it? Why don’t you head upstairs and change into some dry clothes?’

Jim didn’t respond; he folded back his coat to reveal three tiny heads. As soon as the Persian saw them, his face fell, and his eyes went wide.

‘Oh my God!’ He immediately reached over and took one of the dripping wet kittens into his arms. ‘You poor, poor darlings! What happened?!’

‘Some bastard just left them outside the gate.’ Jim’s voice was tight, eyes burning as he desperately tried to keep himself from breaking down. Perhaps he was being soft, what his old Da would have called a nancy boy; but knowing that someone was capable of abandoning such small, innocent creatures in the middle of a thunderstorm was almost too much for him to bear. ‘I’ve no idea how long they’ve been out there, but they’re soaked through.’

Freddie cradled the kitten close to his chest, almost in tears himself as the little one desperately nuzzled into his sweater, searching for warmth. ‘I don’t understand how anyone could be so heartless. I’ll ask Phoebe to put the fire on and we’ll get them properly warmed up.’

Ten minutes later, Jim and Freddie were sitting on the rug by the fireplace, the kittens now comfortably nestled in a thick, pink blanket that Joe had put through the tumble dryer. Though he wasn’t by any means an expert, Jim knew that they had to warm them gradually, in case they were suffering from hypothermia; they sat for hours, gently rubbing the kittens periodically to raise their body temperature while Phoebe stood by with a tiny bowl of water in case they were dehydrated. In the early hours of the morning, two of the kittens were strong enough to walk; Freddie tucked them up in the old straw basket Romeo used to sleep in, where they were currently being groomed by Delilah. The tortoiseshell had been hanging around the lounge ever since the kittens first set foot in the house and was now mothering them as if they were her own.

‘Don’t worry, darlings.’ Freddie murmured. ‘Your auntie Delilah will look after you.’

The third kitten, clearly a runt, was still in a sorry state. Jim held him throughout the night, carefully monitoring his temperature while Freddie sat at his side, refusing to go to bed until he knew the poor baby was okay. Joe mentioned something about a vet, but a quick glance outside did away with that idea; it was raining so hard the gutters had burst, flooding the roads. Trying to get a car through the storm was out of the question.

The rain eventually stopped during the early hours of the morning, and as the sun crept in through the curtains, the runt in Jim’s arms gave the tiniest meow, and everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

A few weeks later, the new arrivals at Garden Lodge were scampering around their new home and getting under everyone’s feet, as if they had been there their entire lives. Despite already owning seven cats, Freddie was adamant that they keep all three of them; and while Phoebe wasn’t overly enthusiastic about having ten felines roaming the house, he was too fond of the little buggers to protest. Delilah took to the role of mother immediately and wherever she went, three grey balls of fluff were always close behind her. Any cat who tried to mess with them faced the wrath of Delilah’s claws.

Because Jim had been the one to rescue them, he was given the honour of coming up with names – the three British Blues were christened Freesia, Azalea and Rose, after Freddie’s favourite flowers.

Awwwww oh my heart this is so cute! Jim and Freddie tearing at the sight of the three shivering babies, and then snuggling them to keep them warm.... oh god😭😭

(Lemme just take this opportunity to add that if you find stray kittens, make sure that you bring their body temperature to normal before feeding them. Do not feed them until they're at the right temperature (varies for kittens depending on how old they are). Sorry, this is my neo natal kittens obsessed brain speaking)

And ahhhhhh mother Delilah! Does that make Jim and Freddie grandpas of the babies??? Also, such lovely names for the new members of the garden lodge family!!

(More drabbles by writer anon)

[nomazee]

Thinking Things Up And Not Thinking It Through

iwaizumi hajime x reader, oikawa tooru & reader friendship 

word count: 2300+

content: oblivious & ooc iwaizumi, pining reader, light swearing, (title is a reference to listerine by dayglow)

(i was thinking ab the first iwazumi/oikawa fic i posted (and the first fic i posted....EVER) and almost cried thinking about it cause its SO BAD and i felt like i needed to atone for my sins so here it is!! 

i wrote this in one day, pretty quickly, and it’s unedited & might not make sense in some parts. regardless, i hope it’s concise enough and that you all enjoy it !!

thank you for the continued support on my work. it really makes me happy to see that people enjoy the things i write. i hope i continue to make you guys happy with my stuff!!

also, as always, here’s a reminder that my requests are open!! feel free to send one in after reading my rules :)

happy reading!!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

You and Oikawa were friends. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were friends. You and Iwaizumi, however, were not friends. 

It’s not like you two were sworn enemies. You got along quite well, actually. But you just… weren’t close enough to consider yourselves friends. 

It was really a shame. You were sure you were practically in love with the guy. 

Oikawa knew about this--him and his annoying, prying self figured it out after digging it out of you during a sleepover. He laughed hysterically when he found out and developed the habit of throwing teasing remarks your way whenever Iwaizumi was in both of your presences. 

“How do you manage to like someone who barely talks to you?!” He screeched into your ear that night through bouts of laughter. 

You huffed and slapped his shoulder with as much strength as you could gather in your embarrassed state. “Shut up! Half your fangirls have never had a proper conversation with you yet they’re still in love with you.” 

“Yeah, but that’s me. You’re talking about Iwaizu--”

“Can you shut up?!” 

It was just your luck that Iwaizumi seemed to shut down any advances you made towards him. Not really “shut down,” though--if he outright told you he wasn’t interested then you wouldn’t force that on him. It was more like he was completely oblivious to any moves you made to approach him. It was funny. And disappointing. And hysterical, to Oikawa. 

You knew how well Iwaizumi interacted with his teammates, and from your rare moments of sentiment with Oikawa you learned that Iwaizumi was no stranger to adjusting to the needs of his teammates and friends. 

Good to know that you were in neither of those categories. 

You put yourself out there for him more than you normally would, greeting him every morning, starting conversations, even going as far to invite him to outings in an attempt to just get to know the guy, for fuck’s sake. 

“There’s this really nice diner a few blocks down from my house. It’s family-owned and the food there’s really good. Do you maybe want to go there someday?” 

Iwaizumi blinked, looking up from his lunch tray. Oikawa had left one point to “go to the bathroom” (you’d told him of your plan to ask the ace out, and he was supportive enough to give you a window of time to do that without you friend’s presence making you nervous), leaving both of you alone as you grasped at loose threads to try and start a conversation. 

“With Oikawa?” 

“...with me.” 

“....and Oikawa?” 

Oh. Cool. So he just wasn’t comfortable with you in the slightest. Good to know. 

“Yeah. Sure.” 

You had to sit through the humiliation of explaining to Oikawa that it absolutely did not go as planned. He treated you to dango after laughing hysterically. 

You didn’t want to stoop as low as asking Oikawa to interrogate Iwaizumi about his opinion on before, but you were really starting to consider it. 

You figured maybe a gift would be easier than that. This revelation led to you sobbing in your kitchen while on facetime with Tooru as you tried to figure out why the dough for your melonpan had the consistency of thick oatmeal and glopped along your kitchen counter whenever you tried to pick it up. (Yet again, the brunette setter went out of his way to buy another small gift of condolence the next morning after being absolutely no help to you the night before.)

You eventually managed to turn out a few decent looking (and decent tasting) buns, packaging them neatly in paper bags to give to Iwaizumi the next morning. 

Iwaizumi blinked at you, then at the bag you forced into his hands without a word. “...what is this?” 

“Melonpan.” 

“...oh. Thank… you?” 

He didn’t even look into the bag. Didn’t say anything else after that. You stood in your place, expectant for some other response but knowing that, realistically, you wouldn’t be getting one. 

“I hope you like it.” And with that, you spun on your heel, stumbled, and walked away with an awkward awareness of how you were stepping. 

During lunch, Oikawa and you sat separate from his friend, making up some excuse that you two had to review something from class and sneaking away to discuss your next step. Tooru was enthusiastic about this whole thing. You were not. 

“He ate the melonpan, you know,” your friend remarked, taking a sip of canned juice before continuing. “I caught him before I went to class. He seemed to like it.” 

“Oh. Good to know it didn’t taste like shit.” 

“Hopefully it doesn’t give him food poisoning.” 

“Will you--!” Oikawa burst into peals of laughter, body bending at the waist in a show of just how amusing this was to him. You huffed. 

“This is, like, the dumbest thing ever. I’ve done so many things--”

“Like, two things--” 

“--to try and drop a hint, any hint, and he just acts like an oblivious dumbass and ignores everything I throw his way. It’s stupid! He doesn’t even talk to me! How does he put up with you all the time yet when it comes to me he can’t even look me in the eyes?!” 

Oikawa’s laughter quelled as he listened to you ramble momentarily. When you fell silent, he looked up at you and gasped at the sight of your eyes brimming with tears. 

“Hey, [Y/N]--” 

“No! It’s fine! I’m sorry, I’m just dumb and emotional and I’m not actually that upset,” that was doubtful, “but maybe I’m just… not a fun person? Not as fun as I thought I was. Not fun enough for a guy like Iwaizumi to be around.” 

Tooru was silent. He was no stranger to your comedy-induced mood swings but this seemed to be serious. This whole Iwaizumi thing was making you doubt your ability to make friends and it made the brunette’s heart hurt to see you in this state. 

“Hey,” he approached, tone uncharacteristically gentle, “you got me to be your friend. And that’s saying a lot. People like me, sure, but I don’t like a lot of people as much as I like you.” 

Your breaths slowed down. Oikawa snapped back into character. 

“As a friend, obviously. I don’t think I could handle the emotional experience of having to date you.” 

“Asshole!” 

“Love you!” 

You both laughed in the comfortable quiet before Oikawa spoke up again. 

“I don't think it’s that he doesn’t like you. Maybe he’s scared of you.” You furrowed your eyebrows incredulously. 

“How can I be scary to anyone?” 

“Well… scared in the sense that, he’s never really had girls approach him.” 

That was a shocker. Iwaizumi was a looker--a fact no one could deny. And while, yeah, maybe he’s tough-guy disposition made him a little unapproachable, you were still surprised that it wasn’t at least a little common for girls to approach him. 

“Has he ever, like… said anything about me?” 

Oikawa thought for a bit, chewing on a piece of milk bread he’d torn off. “No, not really. When I mention stuff about you, he listens but doesn’t really comment. He gets kind of quiet, really.” 

You hummed. Maybe Oikawa was right about that scared-of-girls thing. You were prepared to go through another set of trials to get this boy to warm up to you at least a little bit. 

A week later, Tooru got sick. You lectured him over the phone about how irresponsible he was with his health before simmering into a soft demeanor and promising to make him soup when you got home. (“Aww, so sweet of you, [Y/N]! It almost feels like I’m your boyfriend, not Iwaizumi.” You screamed at him for that one and threatened to take soup privileges away.) 

At the end of the day (which dragged on longer than usual due to your friend’s lack of presence), you stood under the awning, watching the downpour from beyond the protection the roof gave you. You never picked up the habit of checking the weather forecast, which proved to be your downfall many times. This being one of them. 

You sighed. You couldn’t wait out the rain. It looked like it would probably go on for a while, and you needed to get home to make food for Tooru and finish your homework. Sighing again, you prepared yourself (emotionally more than physically) to run through the rain like a madman. 

Footsteps sounded from behind you. Instinctively, you looked for the source, surprised to see Iwaizumi blinking owlishly at your lone form. 

You looked at his hand. He was holding an umbrella. 

You repressed a smile. Maybe today was actually your lucky day--you’d ask Iwaizumi to walk you home, letting you stay dry while also getting closer to the boy, for once. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. He gave a small smile and nodded back, walking up to be level with you. 

You both stood in silence for a bit, watching cars pass through wet asphalt and kick up puddles. 

You turned to him, mouth parting open to ask if he wanted to walk home together--

“Have a good day, [L/N].” With that, he walked out from under the awning and made his way home. 

Your mouth remained agape, looking at his retreating form with a mix of emotions--frustration, embarrassment, confusion. 

Minutes passed. With a sigh, you realized you didn’t have much of a choice. You took your blazer off, holding it above your head, and ran into the street. 

You got home. Made soup and suppressed shivers from the remaining cold of rain sticking to your skin. Walked to Tooru’s house (with an umbrella this time), relayed what happened to him, and tolerated his hoarse giggles once again. 

Tooru got better quite quickly, and you were lucky enough to not get sick despite sprinting through the rain and spending your evening in the presence of a sick person. 

You felt a sense of deja vu during lunch when Oikawa stood up and excused himself to the bathroom, sending a wink in your direction that made you flush in embarrassment and panic. You certainly hadn’t discussed any future plans with him. Why was he leaving you alone like this?!

Iwaizumi folded hands on top of the lunch table, playing with his fingers absentmindedly as a way to occupy himself. His lunch had been finished a while ago, leaving him with only his hands to fiddle with as he pointedly avoided your gaze and the prospect of interacting with you. You frowned a bit at the action. 

“So…” You were surprised to hear him speak first, but perked up immediately to listen to him. “You and Oikawa…?” 

He didn’t elaborate any further. You stayed quiet, brows knitting together in confusion. Iwaizumi sighed. 

“You guys are a thing.” You choked at how forward he was with his statement, coughing a few times to clear up the invisible ball in your throat. “It’s… that’s cool. You guys are cute. You go together well, and stuff.” 

Oh my God. Oh my…? What?! He could not be this oblivious. He could not be this blind-- You were speechless at the words that were coming out of his mouth. 

“What the fuck.” You hadn’t even noticed the words coming out of your mouth until you saw Iwaizumi’s eyes widen at you. “I-- Sorry-- Tooru and I… are not dating…?” 

It was Iwaizumi’s turn to be confused, apparently. “What? But you guys are so close, and… you’re always around each other, and stuff. And he talks about you sometimes. So I figured, y’know--” 

“Absolutely not.” Your words were choked out between dry laughs, eyes darting left and right as you tried to gain a sense of reality again. “I would never in my life date that boy. Never. No. And don’t you think if he had a girlfriend, he’d tell you? Right off the bat? He’s no stranger to inflating his ego by bragging. How the hell did you even draw that conclusion?!” 

“Well, it’s not my fault! You two are always hanging off each other, who wouldn’t assume there was something going on between you two?!” 

“Who would?!” 

“Me, apparently! Which was stupid, ‘cause for the last six months I’ve been trying to avoid you because I thought you were off-limits and I didn’t want to get my ass beat by Oikawa--” 

“Off-limits?” 

“Well, yeah! Like, for dating.” The both of you quieted down, the silence of your table a great contrast to the petty scuffle you’d just been having. Neither of you dared to look at each other. Neither of you dared to speak. 

Oikawa came back after a few minutes, noticing the tension in the air and becoming too nervous to say anything. When he asked you about it as you left the cafeteria, you muttered harshly under your breath, “Just so you know, I would never in my life date you. Ever.” 

He only laughed, concern still evident in his features but simmering down the slightest bit after realizing you were well enough to joke around. 

Before you could enter through the doorway of your classroom with Tooru, a hand grabbed your forearm harshly, shoving you off balance at the unexpected force. 

You turned around to view your captor, freezing at the sight of Iwaizumi Hajime, in all his glory, panting as if he’d just chased after you. (Which he probably did, let’s be honest.) 

“Um,” his seemingly confident demeanor collapsed in your presence and his eyes left yours to find interest in the floor. “Friday. Let’s go to that diner, the one near your house that you wanted to go to. At noon, if that’s okay with you.” 

You paused. He remembered the diner. A smile slowly found its way onto your face and you laughed a little bit. Iwaizumi’s eyes flicked back up at yours, trying to get a read on your reaction before you could properly give a response. 

“Yeah. That sounds good. And no Oikawa.” 

“God, no Oikawa.”

[notanacousticsetcal]

the way i loved you - calum hood

summary - based off of the song “the way I loved you” by taylor swift. 

warnings - none

word count - 2.6k (oops)

a/n - I have some of these planned for luke too tehe. go check out my other two in the song series “begin again” and “broken pieces” also, this is not in chronological order. there are 2 calum flashbacks during the first two choruses looking back at 2 moments in their relationship.

He is sensible and so incredible and all my single friends are jealous. He says everything I need to hear and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better.

“Damn.” You shook your head in disappointment at the marked percentage atop the crumpled white paper. He glanced up at you with a look of concern.

“What’s up?”

“I got an 82 on this math test and I thought I aced it.” Grabbing a nearby pillow and shoving it in your face, you fell back against your bed as he laughed at your dramatic gesture from his seat on the floor. 

He sighed softly. “An 82 is still a great score. I’m sorry. I know you worked hard studying for that test. How can I make you feel better?” He asked sweetly.

“Hmm,” you ran your pointer finger and thumb along your chin like you were pondering a big decision. “You could... grab me a chocolate bar from the kitchen?” You smiled innocently up at him and he returned it.

“It would be my honor.” As he left to grab your candy, you opened your phone to a new message from your friend, Katie.

She had just received the picture you sent her a few hours ago of the beautiful, expensive, bracelet James had just bought for you. 

Katie: holy SHIT! that must’ve cost an arm and a leg. what I would give to have a boyfriend who cares enough to get me gifts. hold onto that one, he’s a keeper.

Katie was right. He was a keeper. A total gentlemen -- smart, kind and gentle. He always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. But when you looked at him, directly into his sparkling blue eyes… you felt absolutely nothing. And it killed you. Because you really, really wanted to feel something.

He opens up my door and I get into his car and he says “you look beautiful tonight.” And I feel perfectly fine.

“Hey! How are you?” You said, approaching the brunette leaning against the white SUV. 

“I’m great now.” He smiled. He reached over and popped the passenger door open, gesturing for you to step inside and you quickly thanked him, sliding into your seat.

He sat down next to you, starting up the car. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” 

You wished you could even conjure up a small blush but you just looked down and let out a meek “thank you.” Where were the damn butterflies? Weren't you supposed to be feeling those right about now?

All you wanted was to feel something -- anything -- when you looked at him. You wanted to dream about him, miss him when he was gone, long for him to hold you.

But you think all that is still reserved for one person.

The one you haven’t quite gotten over. 

But I miss screamin' and fightin' and kissin' in the rain and it's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name. You're so in love that you act insane and that's the way I loved you. Breakin' down and comin' undone, It's a roller-coaster kinda rush and I never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you.

“Cal, pull over.” You sat up from your seat in the car, tugging off your seat belt and laying a hand on the door handle. 

“What? Why, are you alright?” Calum grabbed your thigh and gave it a squeeze. His brown eyes looked clouded with concern.

“I’m fine, Cal, just pull over. Please?” You gave him your best puppy dog face and watched him give in like he does every time and you smiled, laying a kiss on his cheek. 

As soon as the car was securely in park on the side of the road, you started to get out. 

Calum wasn’t sure what he expected you to do, but it wasn’t that. 

“(Y/n)? What the hell are you doing, baby, it's pouring outside!” He called after you but you shut the door before he could protest further and ran out into the street. It was a warm summer night around 1:00am and you wanted nothing more than to run around in the rain with your favorite person in the world.

Calum got out of the car and chased after you, wrapping his hands around your waist and spinning you when you tried to run away. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shivers traveled up your spine at the sound of his voice in your ear. You could barely hear him above the sheets of rain bucketing down onto the street. 

The street light above you illuminated him slightly and you shifted in his arms to look at him.

Your hand reached up to move his damp hair off his forehead.

“Dance with me?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. 

“I’d jump off a cliff as long as it was with you.” His eyes never left your lips.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were leaning into him and catching his lips over your own. It's like you were built for each other. Crafted to fit together perfectly. Like he was your missing puzzle piece. You pulled away feeling tingly and filled with butterflies like it was the very first time.

His smile said it all. 

He pulled you into his chest and you swayed together, feeling the cool water on every inch of your skin. You were appreciative of the rain in that moment because without it, you were sure you would’ve burst up in flames. 

He respects my space and never makes me wait and he calls exactly when he says he will. He's close to my mother, talks business with my father. He's charming and endearing, and I'm comfortable.

You sat in your parents’ living room next to James, awkwardly silent and letting him do the talking. Your parents gave you questioning looks but honestly, you were just sitting there trying not to scream at him for always being so goddamn perfect. 

Calum always pushed you past your breaking point. He constantly poked the bear and didn’t give two shits about how much he annoyed you. He would slip up on dates and cancel plans and forget to call. He wasn’t perfect. Far from it.

James, he backed off when you were tense and never forgot a single date. He always asked about your day. He made an effort to be there whenever he felt like you needed him. He was sitting here with your parents carrying a pleasant conversation. 

You should be in love with him right?

“I’m working under my father right now, actually. It's fantastic experience and he has a lot of great connections already which is super, super helpful,” James said. But you didn’t really hear it at all. Your hand was in his but there weren’t those tingles. It didn’t make you giddy.

You felt bored.

“That’s wonderful. Being in a sturdy, reliable position that young is rare in the industry,” Your father responded, looking extremely impressed.

“Thank you, sir. And Mrs. (y/l/n), how’s that garden you started been going?” He turned to your mother as an appreciative smile bloomed on her face. It made you happy to see them happy.

You should be in love with him.

But you weren’t.

Your heart still belonged to that stupid boy with the big brown eyes and the even bigger heart. 

But I miss screamin' and fightin' and kissin' in the rain and it's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name. You're so in love that you act insane and that's the way I loved you. Breakin' down and comin' undone, It's a roller-coaster kinda rush and I never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you.

“Don’t walk away from me, (y/n), goddamnit!” Calum shouted as you stormed out into torrential downpour, outside of Calum’s apartment building. The street lamps were the only source of light this late in the evening. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Calum!” You tugged harshly on your hair, groaning in anger and frustration. “Leave me the fuck alone, I’m walking home.” You continued to walk down the sidewalk but Calum was persistent. 

“(Y/n) stop! Why the hell are you so fucking stubborn all the time?” Calum called after you. His shirt was clinging to him tightly and his hair was stuck to his forehead. How did he always look good?

You whip around at his insult, wagging your finger at him in fiery disapproval. “Oh I’m the stubborn one? Don’t act like you care about me, Calum. If you did, you would actually spend time with me. You wouldn’t forget the little things. You would be there.” You admit you were being harsh, but he always found a way to push you. Every. Single. Button. You had. 

He made you want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. He made your stomach heat up and your heart rate quicken and your mouth dry. 

He made your head spin and your heart hurt and your knees weak. He made you a mess and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated it. 

“Do you actually think I don’t care about you?” Calum asked. You noticed his bottom lip quiver slightly and wondered if the dampness on his face was tears or the rain. 

“Sometimes it feels that way, yeah.” You cross your arms over your chest, feeling soaked to the bone and so cold you couldn’t feel your toes anymore. You looked down at your feet, trying to hide the fact that you were really hurting. You hoped the hot tears streaming down your face could be concealed by the cool rain. 

Calum noticed and stepped closer to you, pulling you into him. You attempted to resist but he started moving the hair out of your face and you were putty in his hands, like always. It felt like that first time on that summer night, dancing in the street. That felt like a lifetime away. 

“You know I care about you. More than anything.” He looks broken.

“I know, Cal. But I don’t know if that's enough anymore.”

He can't see the smile I'm fakin' and my heart's not breakin' 'cause I'm not feelin' anything at all.

You welcomed James inside and he went in for a quick hello peck on the lips but you felt yourself awkwardly turning your head so he only caught your cheek. He pulled away, clear confusion written across his face but you just gave him a small apologetic smile and tugged him towards the couch. “I think we should talk.”

James was perfect in every way. He was perfect when he bought you flowers. He was perfect when he remembered your coffee order. He was perfect when he remembered your sister's birthday.

But he wasn’t perfect for you.

You wanted him to be. 

Fuck, did you want him to be.

But you couldn’t do anything to change the fact that when he kissed you, you felt nothing.

When he hugged you, you felt nothing.

When he called you baby, you felt absolutely nothing.

You wanted it to hurt when you broke things off with him. Truth be told, neither of you took it very hard. He wasn’t the one for you and you both knew it.

And you had a feeling you knew who was. 

And you were wild and crazy just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated, got away by some mistake and now I miss screamin' and fightin' and kissin' in the rain. It's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name. I'm so in love that I acted insane and that's the way I loved you. Breakin' down and comin' undone, It's a roller-coaster kinda rush and I never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you

“Ash, what if he doesn’t want to try again?” You bit at your nails anxiously while you talked to the drummer. Your phone was tucked securely between your cheek and your shoulder. 

“(Y/n), I’ve seen him every day since you two ended things and I can say with utmost certainty, he’s a mess. He finds a way to bring you up in every conversation and he regrets how much he let you down. He tells me literally every single day. It's getting really annoying, actually. My point is, if you gave him another chance, he would absolutely take it.” Ash finished his point with a sigh. “I have to go, (y/n). I’ll talk to you later, alright? Hang in there, kid.”

You smiled. “Alright, Ash. See you later.” You hung up the phone and laid on the plushy couch for a few moments longer, contemplating as you stared at the ceiling. 

“Fuck it.” You sat up and pulled on your shoes, tugging a jacket over your pajamas, bolting out the door before you had a chance to change your mind.

Hands fumbling in nerves and eyes darting all around, you found yourself standing outside Calum’s apartment. You reached up hesitantly and made two, crisp knocks on the door. You stepped back in anticipation, concerned you might vomit any second.

You heard some commotion from the other side of the door. “Coming!” Calum called. You hadn’t heard his voice in so long. 

The door swung open revealing Calum, shirtless and in a pair of sweats. His hair was longer and shaggier, like he hadn’t cared much to maintain it. 

You could see the moment of realization in Cal’s face. His eyebrows scrunched in surprise and confusion. “(Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat. “Um. Hi Cal.” You gave him a small apologetic smile.

“Are you alright? What’s going on?” Calum’s face became concerned as the reasons why you might be here circled his brain. He wondered if you might be in trouble. 

“I.. I um. I don’t really know why I’m here.” You shook your head in frustration as all your thoughts jumbled together and you found it hard to explain what you were doing at his front door. “Alright. I’m just going to say what’s on my mind and I want you to listen, alright?”

Calum opened his mouth to protest but you continued on rambling before he got the chance. “I’ve been with James these past few months, as you probably know.” Calum’s expression turned sour but you kept going. “I broke things off between him. Like 2 days ago.” You almost wanted to laugh at how quickly Calum’s face lit up. “He was perfect in every way for me. Like, perfect. And you and I are so not perfect…” There's that sour expression again. “But when I was with him… When I was with him… I wished I was with you. I missed the way I got butterflies when you held my hand and the adventures we had together and I missed your stupid dumb brown eyes and your lips and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop missing you. I wanted to love James. I really, really did. But loving someone is not the same as wanting to love someone. I couldn’t love him… I couldn’t because I-- well, I… I’m still in love with you.” You huffed and began fumbling with your fingers again. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Are you saying you want to try again?” Calum asked, stepping past the threshold and closer to you.

You bit your lip as you pondered the thought. You didn’t really think about much past telling him how you felt. “I… I think I do, yeah.” 

You felt Calum’s hand tuck itself under your chin and pull your face up to look at him. He ran his thumb softly over your cheek and you found yourself leaning into his touch. 

“I love you, too. I never stopped.”

I never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you.

[danddymaro]

Follow me| Higgs Monaghan x Reader

Damn that Troy Baker and his little voice of his, as well as Higgs for being so captivating. This game is lit.

Also, could this be romance? I’m really just writing concepts I come up with. Sometimes bullshit stories come to mind. 

FUUUUUCCKKK, I already had this thought out and halfway through I realized he wears that fucking pod (ꐦ ಠ皿ಠ )

How could it slip my mind?

Anywhoo..

Everything is pretty understandable, but just a warning, 

‘ example’ = Italics in quotations are thoughts

example = Italics W/out are flashbacks

He watched her, downright dumbfounded, eyes trained on the woman like she was a strange phenomenon. 

And perhaps she was…

She was out In the middle of nothing, miles way from a single living being , excluding himself of course.

‘ So where did she come from? ‘ He wondered, truly perplexed, because it couldn’t be as though she magically appeared out of thin air.

‘Not a shelter in sight either…’ He observed.

He took a quiet step forward, being cautious in doing so, keeping his eyes fully trained on the bizarre woman the entire time. Though, it seemed as though his alertness was unneeded, because she seemed none the wiser, not knowing he was there to begin with. 

Instead, her sights were placed on the little creature crawling along her (s/c) skin. Keenly staring on, she had no mind for anything but  the little orange butterfly walking along her index. Meanwhile, the creature itself seemed just as oblivious as she was about any possible existing danger, happily moving it’s thin, little legs over the flesh.

‘ Like only you exist in this world,’ He thought with disbelief.

A small smile began to surface over her features, one that was undoubtedly pretty, stopping his musing, and every question he had in regards to the strange woman’s unexpected appearance.

It was then that the sound of the crackling sky erupted, echoing throughout the field, and as it did, he noticed she came out of her perfect little world.

The young woman gave a small jump and though he didn't hear it, he knew a small sound left her. The abrupt widening of her eyes, along with the parting of her pretty lips, topped with the sudden growing of her chest indicated it.

 The little happy butterfly which was on her index finger fluttered away in fleet, leaving her behind to stare at it, not being able to do much but follow it with her (e/c) eyes.

.And then she was truly left alone, with nothing but blue eyes to observe her, marveling at her from a distance.  

Standing up from the floor, she began to look up at the grayed sky with her eyebrows creased up, light worry lines on her forehead becoming visible. Inside her mind she began to fret, and finally he got a gimps of what concern seemed like once settled onto her face.

With steady steps she took as she finally rose, walking further from him in a direction that lead to more nothingness, all with notable uncertainty.

‘Are you hoping to find anything?’ He wondered, continuing to watch her, interested in everything she did, wanting to know just where she’d lead him to.

It all felt like a strange dream,a vivid one where he wasn’t tormented, where he didn’t see death , but instead a strange sort of angel, lost in an apocalypse.

In search of something...

 She then reached up, her body lightly shaking as another roar erupted from the somber sky.

 Afraid, she reached up, challenging extinction she stood her ground,

 “Any second now,” he said to himself, knowing that there was only a few more moments left before the Timefall came. Absentmindedly he took a step forward, “If you don’t get out of here...” he trailed off, knowing there wasn’t anywhere she could go.

Knowing just what would happen... 

Her palm faced up to the murky sky for a moment, longing in her heart as she reached out to where the glowing sun had become a stranger. And she wondered when she’d see the glowing star, not having seen it during the many hours she’d spent outside already.

The rain then fell, ready to claim anything that it touched. Merciless as always, it lay waste to anything that dared challenge it with existence with absolutely no exception.

A twitch to his heart made his current step falter, and abruptly he stopped, everything else in the world moving in slow motion as he found his eyes locked with the (h/c) young woman. 

For just a brief moment she stared at him, having found him in her line of sight as she took a gaze at the world around her.

A cloaked figure stood in her vision, and swallowing down largely she took a daring step toward’s it.

If anyone were to ask him why he did it, he wouldn't have a single, sensible answer as to why he took action, but all the same his deed remained. 

He moved faster then he could blink, traveling through the space and reaching her within a second’s time. He encased  her within his cloak, huddled over her as he pressed her close towards his chest, pinning the (h/c) woman to him.

It was then that the downpour began, but of course, she was safe, protected within his safe cocoon, her body stiff with the strong press.

It took her a moment to move, being utterly surprised at first before she seemed to settle, her head inclining back as she brought her eyes up to him, once again connecting.

She stared up at him with wonder, her eyes looking large and beautiful, absolutely breathtaking to him as she stood before him. And to his surprise, she didn't squirm, but instead reached her hand up, cupping the side of his mask's cheek before trailing along the sharp edges with the tips of her fingers.

Cold metal connected with warmed flesh, but it wasn’t something that made her draw away either.  He could see that dancing within her wide open (e/c) eyes was pure hearted  astonishment as she continued to caress the golden piece.

She didn't look afraid, startled perhaps, but not afraid, and it stunned him, shaking him to the core.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, his voice sounding breathy, but he wasn’t tired.

 If anything, he’d never felt more alive.

He could feel it in his chest, a strange feeling invading him and taking over, 

‘I can’t stop it,’ he thought to himself helplessly.

Blinking a couple times in silence and confusion she shook her head slowly, answering him with uncertainty, “ I don't know,”  she replied, a very soft voice being what graced him. “I'm not sure what I'm doing here,” She added, a gleam to her eyes shining with sadness, replacing the awe that was meant for him. 

“ I was here alone,” she admitted. “And I’ve been her waiting,” she added, a fore lone smile coming into sight.  

“ I wouldn't be able to tell you with certainty how long I was by myself...simply waiting,”  she went on, her hands descending, trailing over part of his chest before coming to the cool glass of his pod.

  “...I don’t even know how to determine how long I had been alone.” she said with the same melancholy.

She'd woken up to the barren land, frightened and cold, left at the mercy of the new dark world she’d been dragged into. There was no sign of life, as even her own heart stilled, quieted as it waited in frightened suspense.

“...How long I had waited,” she added lowly, “ I just sat here waiting to die... waiting for either starvation or something to come and sweep me away,” she admitted with dejection and shame. 

Initially, she’d screamed out for someone, anyone to save her, but no one called back.

No one went in search of the stranded woman, and so having no choice, she went on her own search.

She walked aimlessly, desperate for a ray of hope to shine upon her, but not even the sun graced her. Instead, it stayed hidden behind dark clouds, the murky sky and it's muted colors being all that lay in her sights.

Finally giving in , she fell onto her knees, surrendering at the game of life.

And then the single butterfly landed on her, it’s little legs tickling her nose as it walked along the bridge.

She didn't know how it ended up there either, and she thought that perhaps  it came with her, traveling through the same strange route. It was the only thing that comforted her.

Narrowing her eyes at it she began to smile, abiet somberly, 

“could it be that we are alone?” she asked it, not expecting an answer. “Could it be that no one will come?”

“But you're holding me... someone else is holding me...”she said with a tremor touched voice.

And then she questioned him, 

"Are you some sort of God? ” she said with partial amusement, “ Or death itself?” She questioned him, seeming mystified by the possibility. 

Was such an assumption strange?

Within the barren land someone came to her, appeared before her to hold her. And as though by strange magic he reached her, embracing her.

 He was flattered to say the least, an amused chuckle leaving him, “A god?” he asked himself,  liking the idea as she spoke, 

‘No darling... but I am a partical of God,' he thought to himself with seething pride.

“ What if I tell you that you're right? " he asked her, watching those beautiful eyes sparkle at his response. 

While she waited with diminished hope, and as she screamed and as she pleaded, she’d cried.

She cried her heart’s lament, knowing she’d lay to waste.

His hand's gloved fingers fell down her face, the thick, black material grazing her gently, falling down what had been dried tear trails. 

‘ She’s been crying...

Waiting...’

" What would you do then?"  he asked her his eyes never leaving hers as he found himself unable to draw them away.

He watched as she seemed to contemplate the question,

‘Will you try and run from me? 

Push me away...

I want to know...’

She had to know that whatever savior she hoped for wasn’t there. The idea of a knight in shining armor wasn’t befitting for him.

" I'd be afraid," she admitted." I am afraid," she added, not holding back, " But you're the only one here…"  she told him, " You were the only one that came," she reasoned.  

 He could be death itself, and even then she wouldn’t run, she wouldn’t draw back, so, happily, smiling softly with joyous relief she spoke, 

"You found me.”

He could feel his heart once again bouncing, like a sort of detector setting off in her presence, “ I guess I've been waiting too,” he said lowly, his voice just a short whisper. And during then, his mask dispersed, leaving her to gaze at his true face and nothing more. 

He spoke the truth, despite not realizing before how tangled with her he’d been. But there was no question in his mind that what had magnetized him to the same patch of nothingness she was at was a powerful pull sure to be fate itself.

The trailing fingers stopped, his palms cupping her cheeks instead, holding them dearly. Meanwhile, she reached up again, her fingers touching the dark tears that trailed down his cheeks.

He felt her fingers leave a warm trail where she touched him, effortlessly exiting him as she unexpectedly brushed the digits by the outline of his lips.

Would it be so bad to take her with him?

Would it be so bad to find out more about her? 

Discover how she came to be...

Find out just how she came to him...

“Will you come with me?” he asked her, leaning down to her, his lips so close to her flesh as he spoke, “Will you follow me?” he asked, a curl to his lips as he felt her shiver. 

Over the flesh of her arms little bumps had risen as she was both startled and exited. Nodding silently, she agreed, planning to follow him till the ends of the world, 

which was coincidentally just where he planned to travel with her, 

Right to it’s destruction...

‘Looks like I’ve got my plus one,’ he thought to himself, unable to deny the lovely feeling he felt in his chest.

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (VI)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: I just don’t understand how Mark is getting so much hate??? Absolutely adore the man, so much fun to write problematic characters. But seriously, he needs to check his inbox, because I think multiple death threats have been sent already. Love you lot!

Sorry this took me so long, by the way. I had to rewrite it because the first draft was shit. And I think I’m just gonna throw the uploading schedule out the window, because it’s not fun that way for me anymore. I want writing to still be something I can find relief in, not stress.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Song recommendations: Dance Little Liar by Arctic Monkeys, or A Tragic Fate from the Professor Layton soundtrack

Chapter VI - Mad Sounds

When she was younger, her parents were thinking about divorcing. And that’s really something to deal with at such a young age. So, she found solace in the only things her mum had lying around; books.

Books had been the only reliable thing in her entire life. The words were solid on paper, the storyline was set, and it had an end and a beginning. Nothing she had to go through; she only had to be a spectator from above, able to criticise people for the mistakes they made and commend heroes for their virtuous adventures.

It’s why she would describe her life to be something of a book. However, it was a story that seemed to have no ending. An intricate plotline that just kept on going, daring her to just mark the page and close the cover on it whenever she was getting sick of it. To just leave those heavy chapters weighing her down behind her, never to look back.

She felt like she was only at the middle of the story, where things should be going easier, because she could just leave her book open without the pages turning on their own because of the stiffness of the brand-new cover.

She had it all, really; though sometimes still in doubt, her parents were together, she had a man she could rely on who she would marry, and a nice apartment to get back to.

She barely felt the raindrops touching her face, as her entire body appeared to be numb.

She stood there, in front of the restaurant, for what seemed like ages, until the bells of the church struck eleven, and she was still unsure of why she was unable to move any of her limbs.

Warm hands touched her arms, comfortable, yet firm. They must have noticed how cold she was getting, because they draped a dark jacket over her shoulders. “You’re shivering,” she vaguely heard, “Let’s get you somewhere warm, shall we?”

She nodded, the events of the evening finally playing back all over again. Her stomach felt heavy, and her heart was beating at a faster rate than it usually was. “Do you think he’ll come back?” she muttered.

Brown eyes swept over her, and a chill went down her spine. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking; she only saw a calculated determination to make sure she was okay. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “But I know he wouldn’t want you to have caught something by the time he gets back.”

She barely gave a nod of her head, which was enough indication for Alex to tuck her under his arm, and walk her through the empty streets of a rainy Sheffield. At the very least, the downpour would hide the fact that hot tears were silently slipping down her face.

 She must’ve looked like a real mess; standing shivering in a soaked wet dress in front of a brick building, tucked tightly between other brick buildings, as Alex fumbled with his keys. Once finally catching his bearings, he was able to twist the lock open, and push back the door that were adorned with gleaming golden numbers reading ‘505’.

It was a shared complex, with an apartment downstairs and one up, which was Alex’ place.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, but the home was quite cosy, most likely because of it’s size, and if she had to describe its contents in a few words, they would be ‘retro simplicity’.

Brown leather couches which looked very well worn made up most of the living room, along with a radio that sat upon a wooden cabinet stashed with liquor of all sorts. One of the walls was almost entirely covered by built-in shelves, holding many books and records alike, but leaving just enough room to be able to open the door on that very same wall.

The radio was still softly playing old tunes, with hints of soul and jazz. The rain tapping against the windows had almost drowned the sound out completely, if she hadn’t been standing so close to it. Alex turned up the volume a tad.

“I recognize that song,” she said, “my mum used to play it a lot when my grandmother passed away. It was her favourite song.”

“She had good taste,” he replied with a friendly crook of his mouth. He staggered off to the kitchen, and she heard him put the kettle on as she hesitantly took a seat on one of the large sofa’s. If it hadn’t been leather, she wouldn’t have even dared to step close to them.

“I know it’s not much. But it’s home.” He handed her a steaming cup, and almost simultaneously drew a blanket over her lap. He suddenly paused, and glanced up at her, “I’m sorry, I just assumed you took milk and sugar.”

She shook her head, “That’s the way I like it.”

He hummed, and sat down in front of her on the coffee table.

“I should apologize,” he said.

She gave him a questioning look, inviting him to explain.

“I crossed the line with the way I was acting back at the restaurant. I was being a total arse, and quite possibly just ruined any chance of maybe remaining in touch with you altogether. I’d understand you wouldn’t want me to come to your wedding. Hell, you barely even know me.”

Her gaze didn’t waver from his, as she took a moment to think. “For some reason, I feel like I’ve known you all my life. I can’t say I’ve ever met someone who I was able to talk so freely with from the get-go, and I can only say that it sort of frightens me.”

“Why?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I suppose you can understand that it might seem quite odd to my fiancée that I’m parading about town with another man in the middle of the night, one I met only a few evenings before at that.”

He gave her a look. “That’s not what I was asking.”

“Why were you being an ass towards Mark?” she continued, decidedly avoiding the question.

He hesitated, his hands gripping the edges of the table a bit tighter, as if they kept him from falling over or summat. “Annoyance. Jealousy, perhaps.”

“Jealousy?”

He huffed, “Don’t tell me you didn’t quite figure that out yet. You’re a writer. I see someone being lousy towards a pretty girl, or anyone just around a pretty girl, for that matter, when I know they could be doing so much better. It bothers me.”

“So I’m just a pretty girl?”

“What would you want me to think of you as, then?”

He got her there. But she wasn’t yet willing to let it all go. “And what would be so much better for me? You? You barely even know me, perhaps I’m a horrible person. Perhaps Mark is the one that could do so much better.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I didn’t see you walking away from an argument.”

She stiffened slightly in her seat, thinking back on all other times they had had a fight. “Mark is just… he needs to cool down. It’s just his way of handling things, and I can only respect that.”

“And what happens when he doesn’t cool down?” he daringly asked.

This time, the look she gave him was a clear warning. He had indeed crossed boundaries tonight, more so than what should even be considered okay if they had been close friends. But they weren’t, and she was starting to take notice of the fact that she was quite easily giving her trust to this man.

“I can honestly say, and smack me across the face if you must, but after that brief meeting we had, I knew you shouldn’t marry him. You don’t fit together, and that’s not because of your lack of trying or incapacity to agree on certain things, but it’s because I can tell that there’s something going on between you that you don’t want to talk about.”

She didn’t slap him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was as if he had smacked her across the face with a harsh reality she had been trying to hide. And only then did something she had been wondering since the moment she met him cross her mind once more.

“You’re…” Yes, that must be it. “No, never mind.”

He shook his head, “Humour me.”

“Don’t start laughing at me.”

“I never would.”

She got off the couch, and strode across the room with a sudden surge of energy she hadn’t been sure could still muster up before. She looked out across the window, over the smoking chimneys of old Sheffield, and it was as if everything just clicked in her mind.

“You’re… You’re not real, are you?”

He didn’t respond, but she didn’t need him to.

“You’re just a figment of my imagination,” she muttered, her thoughts finally able to form into verbal words. She looked down at her hands, as if they were the only thing that kept her from spiralling. “A hallucination of a chronic insomniac. You’re nothing but a dream, a test. I’m just dealing with a lot of emotions and stress, and this is all a coping mechanism…”

“A test?” he asked distantly.

“A test to see if I’m really ready to get married.”

When she heard him hum, he was a lot closer than she expected, and had already felt the heat radiating off his chest on her back before he’d even made a noise. Turning around, she was met with a dark pair of eyes, a gaze so intense she felt like her feet were suddenly cemented to the floor.

His shirt was sticking to his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination, and the fringe at the top of his head was as messy as her ragged breaths.

“If I’m just a dream, how can I do this?”

She didn’t stop him when he tilted his head, nor when his warm lips met hers with a gentle fire. Passionately, and slowly, they moved against hers, until the tingling sensation it sent through her made it impossible for her to refrain. And so, she kissed him back.

Nothing like what she’d ever felt with anyone else, something almost too good to be true. Like first kiss, hesitant and new, but with an unrealistic perfection. It shouldn’t feel this way. Her hand running across his wet chest shouldn’t make her want to pull him only closer. Her hips shouldn’t feel such satisfaction as he squeezed them and pulled them against his.

Her eyes opened, not even having realized she had had them closed right as skin met skin, and when she wasn’t met with a curly bush of brown, but only a slicked back messy fringe of pure perfection, she panicked.

“I… I have to go.” It was barely muttered against his lips, but he’d heard it.

He was unable to say any more, as she had somehow already rushed through the room and down the steps. And as the front door slammed shut with a finality, she had left him. And he continued to spend his night like any other night; all alone.

 Last night had felt like a dream, something that didn’t sedate the terrifying realization she’d had when the dots finally connected. She lay awake all night, her eyes barely blinking as they continued to glare at the red digital numbers on her alarm clock, until she turned it off precisely a minute before it would start blaring.

She had thought about just staying in bed for the rest of the day. She had also thought about calling Mark. But Mark would call her, those were the rules. If he called her, he had cooled off and everything would be fine again. It would all go back to normal, and she would never go to town in the dark again. Not ever did she have to see his face again.

But her plans went out the window to just keep waiting underneath her comfortable sheets, which had made sure her dress was dry by now, when she heard her mum open the front door and invite people in.

A few minutes after she was called to join them for breakfast, and that she shouldn’t have to worry about wearing her pyjamas like she always did.

So, she did the sane thing and got changed into her pyjamas, cleaned her face of all blotches of makeup and headed downstairs.

At the dining table sat a couple who appeared to be around her mother’s age, with greying features, but kind eyes. They seemed vaguely familiar, so she was unsure of whether she had to introduce herself or not. If she somehow did know them, she would look like a fool.

But thankfully, her mother took notice.

“Grab a plate dear, and join us.” She did as was told, as her mother continued to talk about how she met the couple in one of her group couple therapy sessions, ones she and her father still attended regularly.

She’d only gotten to point of introducing them to her when she had already sat down, something she was thankful for, because if she hadn’t been, she would’ve most definitely fallen over.

“These are mister and missus Turner.”

Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, as her eyes met the brown orbs of what was most assuredly Alex Turner’s mother.

“-They were just telling me about their son.”

And oh, how she wished she could’ve just closed the book by now.

***

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