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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,�� he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly, “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

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avnkin · 4 years ago

Text

Shake On It [ 2 ]

Author’s note: I was really in my harry feels whilst writing this so sorry about that lmao also I proofread this so many times and it still SUCKS ASS. I posted this entire thing earlier from my phone but tumblr deleted everything except the title so yeah I’m sorry if there aren’t italics and bolds on some of the words where they should be but i’m just to lazy to go through the entire thing and find them all again, maybe i’ll do it later but who knows. I do not own harry potter or the storyline/characters they are the intellectual property of J.K Rowling. (not my gif)

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: There’s little to nothing Draco values more than his reputation so when he sees it slipping, he’ll do anything in his power to catch it.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader / Platonic!Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, foul language, asshole!draco and daddy issues lol

This is an AU so all the information doesn’t exactly line up with the HP storyline for example Voldemort hasn’t returned but still exists so little from Harry’s history changes but Dumbledore’s still alive.

After yours and Draco’s interaction the other night you’d strongly begun reconsidering his offer to accompany him to the ball, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought, I mean what’s the worst that could happen? So many things your anxiety was quick to answer, the most important one being that Harry and Ron would probably never speak to you again.

“Y/N are you even listening to me?” Hermione’s voice snapped you out of your trance, her blurry hand waving in front of your face, you quickly began blinking in an attempt to bring your surroundings back into focus, “sorry” you then muttered sending her an apologetic smile before gesturing for her to continue with whatever she’d been talking about.

“As I was saying, I need a cute date for the ball, who do you think will annoy Ron the most?” you were about to answer when a voice from behind you beat you to it.

“Annoy who the most?”

You rolled your eyes having a pretty clear idea of who it was, you reluctantly turned around your eyes immediately locking onto Draco’s who stood there in all his glory a smug smile plastered onto his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me who invited you to this conversation?” you retorted before turning back to Hermione who had an amused grin on her face causing you to lightly kick her from underneath the table, you didn’t want Draco putting two and two together and realizing you’d talked about him with Hermione.

“I was just wondering if you’d changed your mind about going with me to the ball” Draco cajoled causing your eyes to widen realizing you still hadn’t told Hermione about the fact he’d asked you in the first place.

You sent Hermione an an ‘i’ll tell you later’ look before twisting your body to face Draco’s who now had his hands placed in his robe pockets, his self assurance radiating off of him despite the fact you’d rejected him only days before, the boy had clearly never been told ‘no’ his entire life.

“No and I won’t be, so run along” you stated before making a shooing gesture with your hand which only seemed to have the opposite effect you’d intended it too, since he began to take a few steps forward, licking his lips as he looked you up and down.

“Yes you will” he stated matter of factly and it took all self control you had not to smack him right across the face, who did he think he was?

“Is it really that hard to get it into that tiny little brain of yours that there are girls alive who don’t like you” you practically growled missing how Hermione’s attention had drifted away from the scene unfolding before her and to the two figures who had begun making their way towards you.

“Yes because there aren’t an-”

“Malfoy find someone else to bother can’t you see she’s not interested” Harry cut him off as him and Ron now fully came into view, the two of them standing tall behind Draco whose attention had now shifted from you to them.

“Oh look who it is, dumb and dumber” chortles could be heard from the Slytherin table at Draco’s words causing you to roll your eyes, it was pathetic how they would lick up every single thing he did.

“Offers still there Y/L/N” Draco turned to you before he slowly started to ascend back towards the Slytherin table where he was greeted with numerous pats on the back as he squeezed himself in between Crabbe and Goyle.

“What a slimy git” Ron huffed as he took the seat next to yours, immediately beginning to scoop all the food in view onto his plate.

“What did he want anyways?” Harry asked resting his elbows on the wooden house table as he sat down opposite you.

“He asked if I wanted to go to the ball with him” you feigned disgust as you shook your head, hoping he would drop the subject, you’d never been a good liar and if anyone could see through you it would surely be your best friend.

“Just tell him you’re going with me if he asks again, then he’ll leave you alone” Harry suggested, Ron nodding along with him as he stuffed a chicken wing into his mouth.

“Yeah- yeah ‘course thank you Harry” you scratched the back of your head cringing at the obvious hint of disappointment lingering in your words which thankfully no one but Hermione seemed to notice since she reached her hand out across the table and laid it gently atop of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You gave her a small smile before your eyes began dancing around the Great Hall somehow coming to a halt on Draco’s figure, he had his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he engaged in conversation with Blaise.

No one could say that Draco Malfoy wasn’t handsome, rude and a prat? Sure, but unattractive no. He was the only boy you’d ever seen who was able to pull of such a hair color and as your eyes travelled along his sharp jawline up to his chiseled cheekbones you felt the uncontrollable feeling of heat rush up to your face as his eyes met yours.

He sent you a wink before turning back around, you mirroring his actions the feeling of butterflies swarming your stomach slowly melting away as you pushed any remaining thoughts of him aside.

The ball was only a few days from now and you and Hermione had decided to take a trip down to Hogsmeade in an attempt to shop for dresses, not wanting to repeat what had happened last year when you both had made the mistake of trusting your parents with your attires, the dresses they’d choosen had arrived the same night as the ball and you had been forced to show up in matching bright pink gowns since it had been too late to go and buy new ones. You’d been the laughing stocks off the school for a couple months after that, never again.

You cringed at the memory that would surely be edged into your mind forever but as you pushed open the wooden door that led into Gladrags Wizardwear you found yourself entranced with all the beautiful dresses littered around the shop.

“Have you decided who you’re gonna go to the ball with?” Hermione hummed as her fingers trailed over a blue gown that hung along with hundreds of others at the front of the store.

“Yeah I think I’m just gonna go with Harry, I don’t want to risk my friendship with either him or Ron by going with Draco” you sighed not feeling the need to hide your disappointment in front of her.

“I get that but if you really do like Malfoy you should just ease Harry and Ron into the idea of you two being together” Hermione shrugged in response before removing the dress she’d been looking at from its hanger and placing it into her arms as you continued browsing.

“How am I supposed to do that you know how much they hate him” you sighed as you lightly dragged your hand over the multiple fabrics that hung on the clothing rag next to you.

“You could dance with him at the ball” Hermione suggested, you nodded silently in agreement before coming to an abrupt halt as a certain dress caught your eye. It was champagne colored and made out of silk with a thigh high split running down the side of it, not the type of dress you’d usually go for but nevertheless you carefully placed it into your arms deciding their was no harm in seeing how it looked on you.

“Who are you going with?” you changed the subject not feeling like talking about Draco anymore, it was really killing your mood.

“Hero Finnigan asked me” your eyes widened at Hermione’s words. Hero Finnigan was in the year above you and was quite the heartthrob around school, he’d been known for having a new girl underneath his arm every week and it seemed that this time around it was going to be Hermione, much to your surprise.

“Please tell me you said yes, if anyone’s going to make Ron jealous it’s definitely him” you assured her, looping your arm with hers as you continued skimming through the store.

“Of course I said yes, I’m not that daft” she shook her head before continuing, “I don’t know though I-I guess I was just hoping that in the end Ron would ask me, but apparently he’s going with Lavender” her nose scrunched up at the mere mention of her name as she let out a heavy sigh.

Your heart ached for your best friend as you put an arm around her shoulder giving her a tight side hug, a subtle way of letting her know you were there for her no matter what.

“Enough about that let’s go try on our dresses and we can tell each other what we think” Hermione was obviously trying to distract herself but you didn’t feel like pressing the subject any further so you only nodded in agreement as you started searching for the changing rooms, it was a surprisingly big shop compared to how small it had appeared from the outside.

Once you’d finally found them at the far end of the shop you both entered separate rooms, simultaneously pulling the curtains shut shielding you from the watchful eyes of the other customers, although there weren’t that many.

You took one last look at the dress letting your fingers wander down the silky fabric before carefully removing it from its hanger and slipping your legs in between the opening.

Once you got it on, you weren’t able to reach the zipper on the back, no matter how hard you tried so you stealthily peeked your head out behind the curtain and seeing no one you began to make your way towards Hermione’s changing room hoping she could be of some assistance.

“Need some help with that?” a voice stopped you dead in your tracks, swiftly turning to see Draco standing there, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you shook your head, furrowing your brows once you noticed how his eyes weren’t meeting yours, instead they were trailing up and down your body, devouring every inch of you.

“Eyes up here Malfoy” you teased which made him finally look up at you, but instead of replying with a snide comment of his own he threw the suit he’d been holding onto a clothing rag nearby and slowly began to stride towards you.

You weren’t able to get a word out as he tenderly placed his ring clad fingers on top of your bare shoulders scanning your face for approval witch you granted by carefully nodding your head taking in a deep breath as you felt him begin to slowly turn you around.

You shivered once the cold metal wrapped around his fingers began to run down your arms, his fingertips then gently dancing down the small of your back in a painfully teasing manner.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh as he took a step closer to you his lips ghosting over your ear as he began to pull the zipper upwards causing you to almost involuntarily lean into him. As soon as you did his scent consumed you, he smelled of expensive cologne and spearmint, even better than you could have ever imagined.

He stopped as the zip reached the bottom strands of your hair, he thought for a moment before he carefully wrapped his hand around your h/c locks, twisting them gently around his fingers before letting them fall over the side of your shoulder, the tips of his fingers ever so slightly running across the side of your neck as he moved them back down to where he’d stopped.

You gently tilted your head, closing your eyes in content once you felt his hot breath fan over your neck, you leaned your head back at the sensation resting it atop of Draco’s shoulder, shivering once you felt his lips ghost over the sweet spot just behind your ear, one of his arms finding your waist as the other continued to work its way up your back.

Once you heard the faint sound of the zipper click as it reached its closing you slowly opened your eyes feeling him take an impossible step closer to you, your behind now pressed into his front as he trailed his hands down to your hips.

“You clean up quite nice Y/L/N” he breathed out as he began running his hands up to your stomach before finally reaching your waist where they abruptly stopped so that he could turn you back around, you let out a gasp at the sudden forced movement your hands clinging onto his shoulders to prevent you from falling.

You opened your mouth but no words came out as you were consumed by the feeling of his fingers digging into your sides, his lips mere centimeters from yours you almost unknowingly began to lean in.

He mirrored your movements but just before your lips could meet someone cleared their throat from behind you causing you to jump away from him, frowning at the sudden loss of contact.

Once your eyes met Hermione’s you quickly cleared your throat acting as if nothing had (almost) happened, she raised an eyebrow obviously confused at the scene unfolding before her.

You turned back towards Draco who was looking at you almost expectantly, “I’m going with Harry to the ball” you suddenly felt the need to tell him, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea from the little moment you had just shared.

“Potter seriously?” Draco scoffed in return before making his way around you and Hermione, your eyes following his figure and as soon as he was completely out of sight you finally felt like you could breath again, staggering backwards into Hermione who quickly put her arms up to catch you.

“Oh I’m in trouble”

You’d decided to buy the dress you’d tried on in the store, even though every time you put it on you couldn’t shake away the feeling of Draco being pressed against you as his lips hovered dangerously close to your neck.... You shook your head in hopes that it would toss the memory out of your mind, you couldn’t be thinking about Draco right now, not when Harry was standing just outside the Gryffindor common room patiently waiting for you to get ready.

“Can you zip me up?” you turned your back to Hermione who quickly rushed to your side swiftly beginning to pull the zipper on the back of your dress upwards. As you closed your eyes you got momentary flashes off Draco’s ring clad fingers wrapped around your body and you tried with all your might to shake the tingling feeling you got away, but nothing seemed to be working.

“Okay do a little spin for me” you let out a laugh at Hermione’s words but nevertheless you began spinning around your dorm playfully, letting your hair fall across your shoulders as Hermione threw her head back in laughter.

“You look incredible” she complemented as you engulfed each other in tight hugs mentally preparing yourselves for the night ahead.

“Oh please, I’m nothing compared to you” you stated linking your arms together before the two of you began to make your way to your awaiting dates.

Once the door to the Gryffindor common room opened the first thing you saw was Harry engaged in conversation with Hero, you could tell by his uncomfortable shuffling that the exchange had been awkward causing you to let out a small giggle which captured the attention of the two boys.

Harry’s mouth hung open as he let his eyes wander all over you, from the thigh-high front split on the front of your dress to your flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair, he was speechless, if you two weren’t best friends he’d probably be tripping over his own two feet by now.

“Well this is certainly an upgrade from last year” Harry let out a teasing laugh as he bowed down to take your hand in his.

“Oh shut up” you feigned annoyance as you stood beside him, feeling goosebumps run up your arms as his hand came to rest on your lower back, leading the two of you towards the Great Hall.

“In all seriousness Y/N, you look amazing” Harry gushed as he pulled you into his side. An uncontrollable blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Potter” you teased, the two of you letting out simultaneous fits of laughter as you followed closely behind Hero and Hermione.

After a moment of silence Harry suddenly spoke out, “Ron was going to ask her you know” the two of you shared knowing glances at his words, it was so painfully obvious that your other two best friends were head over heels in love with each other but neither of them dared to make the first move, either to scared of being rejected or ruining their many years worth of friendship.

“Figures” you shrugged a comfortable silence overtaking you as you walked over to one of the many rows of couples stood in front of the entrance leading into the Great Hall.

As the doors begun to open you excitedly smiled up at Harry but before you were able to move forward another couple had harshly pushed their way in front of you and you were immediately able to identify the mob of platinum blond hair.

“Excuse me” you rolled your eyes causing the two of them to turn their heads towards you, you couldn’t hold in your scoff once you saw who he’d decided to bring, Pansy Parkinson of all the people in this bloody school.

“Don’t start anything Malfoy” Harry warned before either of them were able to get a word out, it looked like Pansy was going to throw a snide comment your way but stopped as soon as her eyes met Draco’s, she let out a huff before reluctantly turning back around.

“You look dashing” Draco complimented, you could feel Harry tense up beside you and you snaked an arm around his waist in an attempt to calm him down, the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.

“Shouldn’t you be telling that to your date?” you retorted gesturing towards Pansy who seemed to be strangely quiet, usually she couldn’t keep her mouth shut no matter the circumstance, but you weren’t complaining.

Draco didn’t respond instead he just shrugged his shoulders before turning back around his arm slipping down towards Pansy’s lower back, you felt the inkling feeling of jealousy begin to form inside you but you forced yourself to push it away giving Harry’s bicep a reassuring squeeze knowing it had taken all his might not to hex Draco then and there.

As soon as Draco and Pansy had left you two be you quickly pulled Harry along with you into the hall so you wouldn’t get trampled by the entourage of students crowded behind you who were also squeezing their way through the double doors.

You intertwined your fingers with Harry’s as you took in your surroundings. It looked even better than last year, snow was falling from the starry black ceiling stopping just a few feet above you, mistletoe’s and every traditional Christmas decoration you could think of were littered all across the hall and instead of the usual house tables there were hundreds of smaller silver ones, each having it’s own floating candle above them.

Once you spotted a decent place to sit you tugged onto Harry’s arm gesturing for him to follow you towards the table your eyes were set on, somehow along the way you managed to spot Hermione and you threw your arm up gesturing for her hand Hero to come sit with you and Harry.

It wasn’t long until the chair beside you was being pulled from underneath the table and Hermione placed her self atop of it along with Hero, you happily greeted both of them but all joy inside you seemed to fade away once you noticed Ron and Lavender heading your way.

Oh please no

Ron placed a chaste kiss on Lavender’s cheek as he pointed towards your table.

Don’t sit here

Lavender eagerly began to nod following behind Ron as they inched closer and closer.

Anywhere but here

Despite your silent praying Ron was now pulling a chair out for Lavender before taking a seat himself and as soon as he did an awkward tension filled the air. You grabbed Hermione’s hand from underneath the table giving it a reassuring squeeze noticing how she’d tensed up once Lavender had bitterly greeted her.

“Whose this then?” Ron could be heard from the other end of the table, you rolled your eyes at his tone, how did Hermione not realize he was jealous hell even Hero seemed to notice it as his eyes uncomfortably shifted between Hermione’s angered expression and Ron’s annoyed one.

“Hero Finnigan, and you?” he reached his hand out over the table and for a split moment your eyes had widened thinking Ron was actually going to sit there and ignore him but thankfully the ginger haired boy reluctantly reached over the table and connected his hand with Hero’s.

“Ron, Ron Weasely”

“Weasely, eh? could have guessed, I’m good friends with your brothers” Hero attempted to make conversation but Ron didn’t seem all to keen on it only muttering a “whatever” underneath his breath causing you to kick him from underneath the table, you gave him a warning glance to which he replied by throwing a small ‘piss off’ in your direction.

Before you could begin to scold him for his rude behaviour Dumbledore’s voice tore throughout the Great Hall preventing you from doing so although you had a feeling that if it hadn’t had been him it probably would have been Harry.

“Welcome students to our annual Jingle Ball, may I say you all look wonderful tonight” Dumbledore gingerly smiled, his wand lightly pressed against the side of his neck as he gestured towards the numerous students all dressed in their finest attires.

“We’ll start the evening with a three course meal prepared by our lovely house elves” claps begun to sound around the Great Hall which you quickly joined in on, smiling brightly once you noticed the numerous elves clumsily standing up from their seats and waving at the students.

“Once you’ve finished eating a band will be preforming for us and I hope that you and your dates will be joining me and McGonagall on the dance floor” laughter sounded around the hall at the last part of his sentence but instead of joining in like you usually would you found yourself draining out all noise as your eyes met Draco’s.

He’d already been looking your way and you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips as his icy grey eyes burned through yours, you felt like there was some type of force drawing you to him and you couldn’t do anything about it, even though your head was screaming at you that shouldn’t be developing feelings for someone as arrogant and cruel as Draco Malfoy your heart seemed to be having trouble following.

Once everyone had finished eating you were eager to get away from your table, somehow Hero and Ron had begun a full blown argument which you and Hermione had to quickly shut down by asking Lavender to take Ron somewhere else until he’d calm down, that boy could not control his temper if his life depended on it.

You’d managed to cheer Hermione up after the entire ordeal telling her that she should focus on herself for once and have fun, thankfully she’d listened and you couldn’t help the giddy expression overtaking your facial features as you watched her and Hero sway together on the dance floor.

“Care to dance M’ lady” Harry merrily bowed down in front of you reaching his hand out towards yours, you placed a hand on your chest in feigned surprise before gently laying your hand in Harry’s palm.

“Why, I would be delighted to” you attempted a posh accent unable to contain the giggle that fell past your lips as you let Harry lead you to the dance floor.

As soon as his arm had wrapped around your waist and the other intertwined with your hand another slow song began playing, most of the students were still digesting their food so their weren’t many on the dance floor, it was only you and Harry, Hero and Hermione and about six other couples.

You leaned your head on Harry’s chest letting him slowly sway you to the soothing melody of the song. “You know I love you right?” Harry mumbled as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I love you too, silly” you brightly smiled up at him, you both knew there weren’t harbored feelings for the other hidden behind those three words so you had no trouble voicing it to each other.

You tightly wrapped your arms around his waist continuing to slowly move around the dance floor. You knew how hard his life had been leading up to this point, losing his family, Sirius, and then Cedric he always had the inkling fear that one day he’d lose you or Ron or Hermione so you wanted to make sure he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words and you knew you were saying everything you needed just by being there with him, it felt like hours that you’d stayed that way wrapped in each others arms but soon students begun to make their way to the dance floor so you and Harry decided to take a short break, heading hand in hand back towards your table.

Unbeknownst to you whilst you and Harry had been in your own world gently dancing with each other for all eyes to see, Draco had been enduring pure torture over at his table.

“I can’t believe she choose Potter over you”

“That’s gotta sting”

“How’s it feel being the second choice”

“Hope you’re ready to do my homework for the rest of the year”

Was all he had heard for the last hour as he’d watched you and Harry dance with one another. No matter the threats he threw their way and menacing looks they just wouldn’t stop, he felt as if his power of being crowned the Slytherin prince was slipping away from him, since in his world losing to someone like Harry Potter was as low as you could get.

Then and there Draco decided he wasn’t going to endure it anymore he was making his move tonight no matter the circumstance.

“You know Ginny’s been eyeing you all night” you wiggled your eyebrows nudging Harry’s shoulder who awkwardly began shifting in his seat as he mumbled a ‘really’ in response to which you nodded.

“Go ask her too dance!” you stood up so you could force him out of his seat along with you, you subtly pointed towards Ginny’s direction who had swiftly looked away as soon as her eyes had met Harry’s.

“But what about you?” Harry frowned realizing you didn’t have anyone to spend time with if he’d leave since both Hermione and Ron seemed to be preoccupied with their dates.

“Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine! now go” you ushered him forward giving him a reassuring thumbs up as he began to walk towards her.

“You’re quite the matchmaker aren’t you?” Hermione had suddenly walked up behind you and you both watched in amusement as Harry almost fell over twice before he was able to reach Ginny who had happily agreed to dance with him.

“Where’s Hero?” you asked as you turned to face Hermione eyes wandering around the hall in an attempt to spot her date, “oh he’s just gone to get us some drinks, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like” Hermione offered but you shook your head.

“No its okay honestly I’m fine” you assured her, you did not want to spend the evening third wheeling your best friend and her date.

Hermione began opening her mouth surely to convince you to join them but stopped once her eyes landed on something behind you or rather someone behind you.

“Care to dance?”

You swiftly turned around to see Draco with his hand reaching out towards you, you tried your best to contain the smile that was so desperately gnawing at the sides of your mouth as you turned back to Hermione who was giving you knowing smile.

“Find me if you need anything alright?” you eagerly nodded at her words only turning back to Draco once Hermione had fully vanished into the crowd.

“One dance, that’s it” you attempted to sound serious but it came off in a more teasing manner as you let your hand fall into Draco’s.

“Agreed”

As soon as you’d reached the middle of the dance floor, Draco’s arm had snaked around your waist pulling you into him whilst the other intertwined your fingers. You let out a giggle as he began twirling you around, gracefully catching you back in his arms as both his hands moved to rest on your lower back.

“You’re quite the dancer” you complimented, without a doubt boosting Draco’s already large ego, “I know” he had replied with a knowing smirk, twirling you around one last time before pulling you flush up against him your noses bumping together since you’d already been looking up at him. You’d held the eye contact for a minute as you brightly smiled at each other before you gently let your chin rest on his shoulder as he slowly began swaying you from side to side.

As your eyes began dancing over the students you didn’t think anything could burst your happy bubble until your eyes found Harry’s who had a look of disappointment edged onto his features as he pulled away from Ginny who had frowned at his sudden dismissal as she watched him begin to make his way out of the Great Hall.

You cleared your throat as you uncomfortably began shuffling away from Draco who gave you a look of confusion as he watched you pull your hand out of his and back away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I can’t do this” you muttered before hurriedly turning around and squeezing your way through the crowd of students all huddled together on the dance floor, most of them giving you annoyed glances as you pushed them out of the way but you didn’t care all you wanted to do was find Harry. You couldn’t imagine how he’d felt once he saw you his best friend, dancing with someone who’d made his life a living hell ever since the first year.

Once you’d exited the Great Hall you frantically began looking around the empty corridors in an attempt to find Harry who’d stormed out here only moments ago.

“Y/N!” you heard Draco call from behind you but you ignored him, picking up your pace once you heard his nearing footsteps echoing around the empty hallways.

“Y/N please wait” you felt him grab ahold of your wrist swiftly turning you back to face him, his grip only tightening as you began attempting to pull your hand away.

“No! You can’t treat my friends like shit and then expect me to give in on whatever the hell you’re trying to do” you finally managed to rip your hand out of his grasp as you turned back around but he quickly ran in front of you placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place.

“Listen I’m sorry alright, bloody hell I just- I can’t stop thinking about you I don’t know how to explain it but I think I might-” he cut himself off hesitating to speak his next words unsure of how you’d react since he didn’t want to return to his friends with yet another failed attempt.

“You think you might what?” you crossed your arms over your chest glaring up at him as you watched his mouth open and close again.

“Fancy you” he finally let out, your eyes widening as you let your hands fall down to your hips. You took a few steps back until you couldn’t move any further the tall walls of the castle preventing you from doing so.

“You what?” you barely whispered and Draco took that as his chance to walk towards you placing both his hands on the wall next to you.

As you looked back up at him he slowly started to remove one hand from the wall so he could place it onto your cheek and just like he’d done in the store, he began leaning in until his lips were barely hovering above yours, you so desperately wanted to close the gap between you but a part of you was screaming to push him away and never look back, but as your eyes met his once more you couldn’t bring yourself to do it your heart taking control as he pressed his lips against your own.

Your lips continued dancing with each other at a normal pace until he’d moved to deepen the kiss swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist so you were able to loop yours around his neck, he pushed you even tighter up against the wall causing you to let out a gasp allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You ran your fingers through his hair gently pulling on the strands on the back of his head before letting your head fall to the side as he began leaving kisses down your neck his hands trailing down your sides until they wrapped around your hips pulling you even further into him.

You gently blinked your eyes open as you pulled away from him, your lips undoubtedly swollen and your lipstick smeared but you didn’t care.

“No one can know about this, not until I talk to Harry” you breathed out leaning your forehead against his as you attempted to slow your heart rate by taking deep breaths in and out.

“Of course I won’t tell anyone” he lied, he’d gotten quite good at that after having to continuously lie to his father ever since he was a child, one particular incident that he would never forget was when he’d accidentally let one of the house elves go because he didn’t know that to free them they had to be granted an item of clothing and on a particularly cold night he saw no harm in granting the elf his jacket since it had been shivering beside him and when his father had barged into his room later in the night furious at his son’s stupidity Draco had lied and told him that the elf had tricked him into doing so and upon hearing this his father had tracked the elf down and casted the unforgivable curse onto him, after that Draco lied to his father about almost everything he did to ensure something like that would never happen again.

Amongst his peers he was powerful and feared but when it came to his father he was nothing, never good enough and always in the way. School was the only place he felt he was more than his father’s words so he knew that as soon as he would make his way into the Slytherin common room the first thing he was going to do was tell his friends that he’d done it, that you were slowly but surely beginning to fall for him, which put him right back on top.

TAGLIST:

@itzsoff @multiversegalaxygirl @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @awkwardnesshabitat @tiredplier @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @macheregrace @dobreesersei @voidmalfoy @lana-isabelle @fangirlyah @dracomalfoyswifey @lonely-kermit @mrsmyamalfoy @fuzzy-panda @sluthug @urbankaite2 @chickeebabe @classygirlything @dark-night-sky-99 @ranialih @pillowjj @im-a-stranger-thing @christinechickiee @imstillhere-butallislost @spencerreidisbootiful @hip-hopphile @justmesadgirl @gia-kerks @lilxnvm @kelly182001 @moonbug26 @gabiconstellation @sleepinmoonbean @mautand @oldschoolkiddo @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @dreams-in-blxck @stalker83005 @criesinlies @sxlted-carxrmel @moonjooniee @maskd-hearts @little-honey-bear @dobreesersei

Let me know in my inbox or asks if you’d liked to be added, much love <333

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #tom felton #tom felton imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #harry potter films

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years ago

Text

The Right Chapter 22 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

helloooooo besties and happy Saturday!

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence and death

wordcount: 1.9k

You're passing the diamond on your chain between your fingers anxiously a few days later as you and Spencer pour over a map on the jet. You’re headed to Colorado after a family annihilator had struck twice in the same small Denver suburb. The whole town was on alert, and you needed to solve this one fast before the whole state devolved into hysteria. Hotch decided on the jet to send you, Reid and JJ to the precinct-- you and Reid will keep working on the geographic profile, and JJ will coordinate local law enforcement. He, Morgan and Emily are headed to the neighborhood to see if any of the locals had noticed anything off.

“There has to be a connection to this specific suburb. Why come ten miles outside of Denver when the city, or even a closer suburb, would be a more target-rich environment?” You floated an idea past Spencer, who nodded in agreement.

“You think he sought out these families in particular?” He asked, turning his attention to the pictures on the whiteboard.

“Not necessarily. Garcia’s still looking for a connection between the families, but so far she hasn’t found one. I think these two families were practice for something worse, or for a family that matters more to him.” You conclude, hoping more than ever that you had profiled wrong.

“If that’s the case, our presence here might trigger the unsub to escalate,” he points out with a grimace.

“Or, hopefully, it will send him into hiding.”

“We’ll never find him if he does that.”

“We’re gonna have to.” You sigh, pulling your attention back towards the map. You pour over it, certain that if you look just a little closer, the answer will jump out at you, but it doesn’t.

Geographic profiles are always helpful, and you and Spencer were great at them, but they rarely solved cases on their own. The reality of the situation is that without any info on the unsub or the connection between the victims, you were essentially trying to create something out of nothing. You push your chair out from the table, deciding to give your mind and your eyes a break, when your phone starts to ring. It’s Garcia.

“Oh, you’re just my favorite person.” You said into the phone by way of greeting, hoping that she’s going to present you with the missing piece that will make all of these seemingly unrelated pieces of information make sense together.

“Careful, peach! There’s someone else on the line who might object to that,” Garcia warns you.

“What do you have for us, Penelope?” Aaron asks.

“So, the Sutton and Mack families have more in common than we thought-- not so much socioeconomically, but their kids were both enrolled at the local high school, although different ages, and the moms were on the PTA together.”

“Were they friends? The kids, or the moms for that matter?” You ask immediately.

“It doesn’t really look like it, but I’m going to keep digging,” she tells you.

“And no connection between the fathers?” Hotch asks.

“Nope, Mr. Sutton was an attorney and Mr. Mack was a cab driver. Doesn’t seem like they ever would have met.” She tells you both.

“Garcia, do me a favor and make sure Mr. Sutton wasn’t in Mr. Mack’s cab within the last month or so. Let us know when you have more.”

“Oh, sir, before you both go, there’s one more thing.” She blurts out before Aaron can hang up the phone. “It’s about Josh.”

You take a sharp breath in, and Spencer’s in tune to you immediately, his head jerking up from the maps, looking you over to make sure you’re okay.

“What is it?” Hotch asks, sounding every bit as tense as you feel.

“Josh was arrested this morning. Busted for possession during a traffic stop,” She tells you and you let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s… that’s great news.” You say.

“I thought you’d both like to know.” Garcia tells you.

“Anything else?” Hotch asks, and you're perplexed by his lack of response to such a good update.

“No, that’s all for now. I’ll call you back as soon as I have more on the case.” She says, and the line clicks.

“What was that about?” Spencer asks, bringing you back to reality, and you share the info from Garcia about the victims. You can tell that he knows that there’s more, but he doesn’t press and you don’t offer.

“If both the kids and the moms knew each other, we could be looking at a bullied kid or a woman scorned.” You theorize.

“A woman wouldn’t kill the kids, at least not a mother. And if the woman wasn’t from the PTA, why target these moms in particular?” Spencer argues, and you agree.

“Could be a man, too. Maybe he’s jealous that he doesn’t have the picture-perfect family he’s destroying.”

‘That’s more likely. Although with nothing connecting two husbands, we’ll have a hard time profiling a man if that’s the case.”

“Okay, so for now we focus on the kids until we find something that pulls us another way. You want to take the Macks and I’ll work on the Suttons?”

“Will do.”

You work in silence for a couple more hours until Hotch, Morgan and Emily return.

“Anything helpful?” JJ asks, coming into the room behind them.

“The moms were friendly, but not necessarily friends. The kids mostly hung out in separate social circles, it seems.” Morgan informs you all.

“Any obvious power imbalances between the kids groups, or bullying?” You asked.

“None that any of the kids we interviewed brought up.” Emily tells you.

“None of the moms mentioned it either-- and they’d be more likely to bring it up than the kids would.” Aaron tells you.

“So we’ve got a whole lot of nothing.” JJ concludes, and you sigh.

You all continue to work for a few more hours-- putting together profiles of each of the members of the families that ultimately bring you no closer to finding the unsub.

“We’ll be back here first thing tomorrow morning-- there’s nothing else we can do tonight.” Hotch concludes as he pins the last index card to the cork board. “Let’s head to the hotel and get some rest.”

Despite the exhaustion that has soaked its way deep into your bones, you and the rest of the team pull yourselves out of your chairs and towards the SUVs. You nearly sink into the leather, and if he wasn’t such a stark professional, you might have asked him to carry you up to your hotel room. He did, however, offer you a very gentlemanly hand to help you out of the car, and wrap his arm around your waist as the two of you trudged your way into the elevator and down the hall towards your room. You collapse onto the mattress as soon as you make it through the door, and Aaron chuckles at you, taking a moment to brush his teeth and change. When he settles on top of the covers next to you, you speak up, although hadn’t really intended to do so.

“Aaron, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, my love,” Aaron mumbles like it’s the easiest thing in the world as he leans over to set the hotel alarm clock that sits on the bedside table.

“When Garcia told us that Josh was arrested… you didn’t seem happy.” You said, decidedly not a question. He answers you anyway, shifting towards you to look you in the eye before he speaks up.

“I’m sorry honey. I’m relieved, of course I am. I was just focused on the case this morning. Maybe I haven’t fully processed it yet,” he confesses. “But of course I’m happy for you. I would have been happier to arrest him myself, but this is just as well.” He tells you with a rueful smirk.

He’s lying, and you can see it in his face. Maybe lying is a strong word, but there is definitely more to it than he’s telling you. “You’re sure? There’s nothing else that’s bothering you?” You pushed, but he shook his head, looking down at his lap.

“I’m sure, doll. I really am happy. We’ll take Jack out when we get home to celebrate.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Maybe a bike ride and some ice cream? I haven’t been out on the bike with him since he got his training wheels off.” You suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” he tells you, reaching to kiss you again and moving to wrap his arms around you, which you dodged.

“Get the bed nice and toasty for me while I change,” you smirked, rolling off the mattress and heading towards your suitcase for some pajamas.

You were back at the police station before the sun rose the next morning, pouring over the transcripts of what had come in from the tip line the night before in the hopes that you might find something useful. Your desk looked the same way it used to when you were studying for exams in the academy-- papers and highlighters scattered everywhere, color coordinated page flags littering all of your documents.

“Cupcake, if I didn’t know any better, I might think you were the serial killer,” Morgan comments with a smirk, setting a hot cup of coffee in a relatively-unoccupied patch of desk.

“Very funny, Derek.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m only letting you live because you brought me coffee. And because I’m too tired to kick you,” you told him.

“Do you want any help?” He offers, and you smile, but shake your head at him.

“No, thanks. I’ve got a pretty strict organizational system going on over here, if you hadn’t noticed,” you chuckle. “But you can come to the medical examiner’s office with me in an hour or so?”

“It’s a date, mama.” He confirms, rapping his knuckles against your desk before going back to his own workspace. You flip through a few more pages, leaving scribbled notes and wayward highlighter in the margins, before you notice something and call Garcia.

“Good morning, peach! What can I do you for?” Garcia asks in her usual cheery tone, clearly far ahead of you in terms of cups of coffee consumed.

“Morning,” you say to her. “Listen, something came in through the tip line last night, and it’s probably nothing, but I just have this feeling…”

“Lay it on me,” she tells you encouragingly.

“So, Mark Vexper is a long-term sub at the high school where all of the kids went. He didn’t go to work the day after both of the murders. He had a scheduled personal day the first day, and he called in sick the second. Like I said, probably just a coincidence--”

“No stone left unturned, kitten! I’m on it. Buzz you when I have more.” She says, hanging up unceremoniously.

“Good catch,” Hotch says from behind you, and you startle.

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” you brush the compliment off.

“Maybe, but we won’t know until we look into it,” he tells you. “You feeling okay?” He asks.

“I just really want to catch this guy and get home to our boy.” You tell him, and his heart warms. Looking around surreptitiously, he drops a quick kiss to the crown of your head.

“Me, too, angel. We’ll get him.” He tells you.

An unexplainable chill runs up your spine, and you have a strange feeling that Aaron’s not talking about this unsub.

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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inkesmind · 4 years ago

Text

haikyuu characters taking care of you when you’re sick headcanons!

reader: gender neutral

featuring: akaashi keiji, bokuto kotarou, iwaizumi hajime, and sugawara koushi

warnings: petnames? (sweetheart, angel)

a/n: feel free to request something!!

akaashi keiji

school was stressful and one of the only people who can help lift his mood a bit was you

but for some odd reason, akaashi couldn’t find you at all throughout the school day

he texted you a few times to ask where you were but you just weren’t responding. he even facetimed you during his lunch break

unfortunately, you didn’t respond to any of his means of communication which meant there was only one more thing he could do

after school, he decided to head to your place between the short break he had before practice started

when he arrived he found you passed out on your bed with a high fever with a warm wet towel on your forehead that needed to be changed

“y/n. y/n. wake up, it’s me.”

akaashi woke you up so he could help you as much as he could

when you saw him, you weakly smiled and akaashi felt a bit of relief seeing you respond to him

he bent down by the side of your bed and took your hand

“after i change the towel i’m gonna head out to the convenience store to get some medication. you can wait for me, right, angel?” (bye i love him)

you nod your head and he smiles lightly at the gesture then gets to work.

he gets a bowl of fresh cold water and a new towel and replaces the one on your forehead before heading out to the convenience store down the street

he finds some medicine and brings them back to your place and finds you sleeping soundly in your bed once again

he hates that he has to wake you up again but wants you get better as soon as possible

you sat up in your bed and take the medicine he bought for you

after you take the medicine, he waits for you to fall asleep while holding your hand

honestly he doesn’t want to leave but he knows his team also needs him during practice

he stays with you a little longer before changing your towel once again and heading out to practice

bokuto wouldn’t stop asking him why he was late

bokuto kōtarō

you loved your himbo a lot, so much that you’d go to his practice even when you feel like you’re about to pass out

you wanted to support your boyfriend even during practice so you decided to do some studying while doing so

finals were near and you had been overworking yourself more than you needed

bokuto might not seem perceptive, but he always is especially when it comes to you

he was happy you attended practice because it always motivates him to do his best but he knew something was up when you weren’t as energetic or giving him the same energy back

you looked a bit tired and bokuto suggested you get home and get some rest but you declined

while sitting on the sidelines and doing homework, your surroundings suddenly became blurry and your body felt heavy

bokuto glanced in your direction to see how you were doing and noticed how you were struggling to sit up straight

he ran up to you to make sure you were okay

“y/n, you okay?”

you could barely lift your eyelids but managed to nod before slumping in his lap

he touched your forehead with the back of his hand and realized you were burning up

hair immediately deflates- he’s upset that you’d deny your current health for just for him :(

the infirmary closed early today so bokuto ended up carrying you on his back to your place. akaashi also tagged along to carry your stuff (the team is grateful for you since you always help with bokutos mood swings but its more than that) anyways akaahsi wanted to help

you said you could walk yourself but bokuto insisted. he wasn’t sure but he swears he felt you smile against his back (aw u cutie)

on the way to your place, akaashi swung by the convenience store and picked up some medicine for you

when you guys finally got to your place, akaashi dropped your stuff off along with the medicine then left y’all alone (somehow trusted bokuto with your life)

bokuto was literally being so gentle with you though and wanted to help you with everything but you said you could do it

you took the medicine and he helped get you ready for bed

he stayed with you for as long as he could even though you really were fine, just needed rest

iwaizumi hajime

you and iwaizumi had plans to hangout this weekend

unfortunately, you had caught the the sniffles with a pounding headache and fever so you decided to text iwaizumi you wouldn’t be able to make it

iwaizumi: do you want me to come over instead?

you: no it’s contagious i don’t want to give it to you :(

iwaizumi: do you need medicine

you: i already took some

you: that said, don’t come over zumi, i’ll see you soon ❤︎

sweetheart, it’s a given that he won’t listen, so of course he came over right away

he thinks it’s his duty to take care of you at all times

on his way to your house though, he buys you a delicious healthy meal from your favorite restaurant so you could at least eat something good while resting

when he arrives unannounced, you’re sleeping soundly in your bedroom but when he feels your forehead it’s piping hot

you were sick home alone and you didn’t want him to come over just because you were contagious? you’re a 100 years too early to be worrying about that

iwaizumi wakes you up gently by rubbing your arm

“zumi, is that you?”

“have you eaten anything today?”

gets straight to the point, wants to make sure you’re on the right path to recovery

well you didn’t have much of an appetite so you said no and then you smell the food he brought for you

you smile lightly as you sit up in your bed. even though you weren’t hungry there was no way you were going to pass up on the food iwaizumi brought you

after you ate as much as you could, iwaizumi stayed by your side as you fell asleep again

he accidentally fell asleep too while holding your hand

sugawara koushi

sugawara was always up to something, it doesn’t matter what it is

you weren’t answering any of your texts today and was MIA from social media

so suga decided to surprise you while you were at home but when he arrived to your house, no one answered the door

it was only 4pm so someone should’ve been able to open the door but since no one did, suga entered himself

“excuse me!”

the only reply he got was the audio from a tv and quiet snores from the couch.

he walked over to the couch and found you sleeping soundly with tissues and medicine for colds littering around you

it wasn’t hard to deduce that you were sick

you woke up from the pressure you felt on your forehead from sugas hand. he didn’t mean to wake you up, but he wanted to check your fever

“koushi?”

“how are you feeling, sweetheart?” he said quietly with a smile

now that he was here, he wasn’t going to go back home until he helped you as much as he could and you knew that. so you told him your symptoms

even though you were sick, that won’t stop him from teasing you especially after he learned how you got sick in the first place

but suga was caring nonetheless, so he decided to use your kitchen to make you rice porridge since you hadn’t eaten anything beneficial today

you eat the rice porridge he makes for you as he cleans up the space around you

he makes sure you’re drinking enough water and not neglecting your body from what it needs

suga even helps you get to your bedroom so you can sleep comfortably even when you told him you could go yourself

gives you a cold towel to put on your head to help reduce your fever

he rubs circles on your palms to help you fall asleep, it’s very soothing

bye i love them all, hope these were good!!

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azurevi · 4 years ago

Text

enstars charas with an overworked s/o

First time writing enstars🤡 this took kinda long becz exams but i hope its good ^^ also kinda self indulgent hhh

Characters : natsume, ibara, leo, tatsumi, arashi, keito

Natsume

Natsume watches from the doorway as your head bobs about, hands tapping unrhythmically on the keyboard. You're already falling asleep, yet you still refuse to go to bed.

Normally he won't interfere with your work, knowing that you're fully capable of making the right decisions, but it's a pain seeing you pushing yourself so hard.

"Still working?" he steps in, holding a steaming drink in his hands.

Your head snaps up at his voice, and you nod. It's a project that you've put off for far too long, and of course, you have to suffer the consequences.

"The deadline is two days later, if I don't finish this section today I probably won't make it in time,"

He sets the mug beside your hand, observing your wandering gaze and disheveled hair which you must've been running your hand through. "I don't think you can finish it, though. You already look worn out."

You raise the mug to your lips and take a sip of whatever it holds. The drink tastes sweet and refreshing in your mouth, and almost instantly your muscles relax. "You aren't any better, you know,"

That's true. Being a nightowl himself, Natsume's words don't really seem all that persuasive. At first you would lecture him about how little he rested, but you gave up eventually. You suppose he's built differently, seeing as he can still perform well after only three hours of sleep.

"Pretty sure I'm in better condition," he says, pulling a chair beside you and popping down. The wood scraps against the floor, creaking slightly. It's usually a sound that you find unbearable, but you seem to have missed it as you try to continue your work.

"Come here, love," he stretches his arms out, wiggling his fingers expectantly. You raise a brow, contemplating whether you should give in. It won't be a surprise if you fall asleep right away in his arms.

"But work…" you sigh, tearing your eyes from him. His shoulders drop immediately, a frown forming from the rejection. "You're just gonna leave me hanging? How cruel…"

You know he's just messing with you when he let out a dramatic huff, but somehow his defeated look still tucks at your heartstrings.

"Fine, fine…" you sigh, sneaking your arms around his torso and burying your head into his neck. His chest hums with satisfaction as he digs his fingers into your messy hair, soothing out knots he finds along the way gently. With every stroke you're getting drowsier and drowsier, and you know that you're supposed to be working, but the feeling of his hand running through your locks and the steady rise of his chest convince you to stay.

You fall asleep almost immediately after you close your eyes. Natsume calls out to you and smiles when he hears your slight snoring instead. It's probably the best to get you to the bed and tug you in, but he decides to stay in his spot for a moment longer and relish your presence.

Ibara

Ibara knows from experience just how hard it can be to sway you when you’ve made up your mind. That’s why he doesn’t try to sweet talk you or lecture you into sleeping.

No, if he really wants to get you to listen, he will have to trick you into it.

Almost like a hunter watching his prey, Ibara leans against the doorway as he tries to come up with a flawless plan for his mission. Several empty cans are littered around the desk and he can already smell the aroma of coffee from so far away. You had your fist in your hair, and every once in a while you had to stretch your muscles awkwardly from the lack of movement.

“Don’t you think you deserve a break?” he walks towards you, peeking over your shoulder at the work you’re struggling with. It’s yet another project for the other units, and you seem to be stuck in a dilemma.

“I don’t feel like sleeping without finishing this,” you say.

“Right, but I think you added an extra 0 here,” he points at the paper you're working on, where the value had been increased tenfold because of your negligence.

“Oh goodness,” you sigh deeply, immediately erasing the zero. “How amateurish of me,”

Ibara watches as you rub the space between your eyes, trying to soothe the looming headache that was making your work even harder. “It feels like all the muscles in my body died,”

“You’ve been sitting for hours after all,” Ibara suddenly smiles, his eyes diminishing into thin slits. You don’t need to hear anything to know that he’s plotting something behind the smile. “What if I give you a short massage?”

Well… that is unexpected.

“A massage,” you repeat.

“That’s right,”

Now that is interesting. You’ve heard from Hiyori about how good Ibara’s massages are for more times than you can count, and it’s something you’ve always wanted to try. It just keeps slipping your mind. A massage sounds just as appealing as a five star meal right now considering how tired your limbs feel.

“Come on, I promise it’ll be worth it,”

“Fine,”

His smile widens even more. “Alright then! Please get onto the bed,”

“You wanna do it on the bed?” you frown. “I’ll fall asleep,”

“It’s not gonna be long,”

This sounds way too risky especially with the amount of work that’s still unfinished, but his grin is unwavering, as if he already knows what your answer will be.

“God, alright,” you admit defeat and throw yourself onto the bed face first. There is a moment of quiet shuffling before Ibara settles himself behind you, making sure he isn't crushing you under his weight. His hands find their way to your back, and start working their magic.

"Normally I would get massage oils, but that'll be for next time," Ibara says in a low voice, as if trying to lull you to sleep. Hiyori was right about his skills -- you don't think you've ever had a massage so satisfying before. Somehow, he just knows where to knead and how much pressure to put. With every passing minute your muscles are getting looser, as is your mind. You almost feel bad experiencing this for free.

You're about to fall asleep when something suddenly jolted your consciousness, like a big slap to your face. You have no idea how long you've been laying down in that hazy state, but you've still got work to do.

"That was the most incredible massage ever but I have to work now…" is what you're trying to say, but the words come out too jumbled and incoherent to be understood. When you try to get up, Ibara presses you back down, insisting that he's not done with the massage yet.

"I'm going to fall asleep for real," you argue weakly as your body slumps back into the mattress. Ibara watches as your words cease and your face loosens up, mouth slightly ajar as you finally indulge yourself to sleep. Maybe you'll be mad at you in the morning, but seeing you rest makes everything worth it.

Leo

This is so, so ridiculous.

You've been telling Leo to go to bed for the past two hours, but did he listen? Evidently not, seeing as he's clinging to your arm with half-lidded eyes that are failing him every two seconds.

"Just go to sleep first, kay? I still have tons of stuff to do," you flip the pile of complicated documents around, not wanting to spare them another glance. Alas, there isn't much time left before your work is due, and the only way you can think of to tackle this is to keep pushing through no matter how worn out your body feels.

Your head is throbbing and somehow your sight just won't focus. You're pretty sure you're starving too, but you feel no incentive to leave your seat and grab snacks. No, you have to finish your work as soon as possible.

This might've been a lot easier if not for Leo. In the middle of your working he suddenly jolted awake and whined about wanting to cuddle with you. It's no surprise though, considering how often the two of you cling to each other during your sleep, but tonight just doesn't work out.

"Aren't you tired too? I can't sleep without you…" Leo mumbles.

"Pretty sure you're falling asleep as you speak," you say, even though you shouldn't be the one talking right now, not when you're also getting groggy just from his warmth and presence.

When you turn to look at him, his face is squished against your arm, mouth slightly ajar as he snores. To prevent him from waking up again, you decide to tuck him in.

Which is a big mistake, because just the sight of the bed is enough to knock you out. Also because Leo's not letting go of your arm even in his sleep.

"Come to rest, please…" he mumbles quietly and you sigh. Trying to work when your body is screaming isn't going to do much anyway, you suppose, and you flop yourself onto the mattress with the boy. Leo may be childish at times, but everything he does comes from wishing for your wellbeing.

Tatsumi

Lying to Tatsumi feels like committing the worst crime ever, but the guilt of going to sleep with your work still unfinished is even greater.

That explains why you're here under the dim light of the desk lamp against Tatsumi's advice, trying to fight the sleepiness getting to your head as you type away on the keyboard. Just a few more pages and you will go to sleep, you decide, but 'a few more pages' is looking a lot like five essays right now.

You lean back against the chair, throwing your head back. You dare not close your eyes, because you're sure a second longer than an usual blink and you'll be a goner.

"Come on, come on…" you return to the original position, shoulders slumped and eyes squinting as you try to string sentences together. What is usually an easy task has become an impossible mission, and the voice at the back of your head suggesting you to give up isn't any help.

Absorbed in your work, you fail to notice the ruffling of the blanket and the shuffling of slippers behind you. When Tatsumi sets his hands on the back of your chair and calls you, you flinch dramatically.

"Oh," you sigh after calming down. "Did I wake you up?"

"Not really," he says. "I thought you agreed to go to sleep,"

You grimace at his words that remind you how you made a false promise with him when all he wanted was for you to take care of yourself. "I know I did, but I couldn't really fall asleep thinking of all this stuff," you gesture vaguely at the screen.

"I don't think you're doing well though,"

As if trying to prove his point, a yawn escaped your lips and tears blurred your vision. "I suppose not,"

He sits back onto the bed, reaching out so that he can hold your hands in his. "It's no use trying to work in your current state, you know? I know that you're feeling stressed out from all the work piling up, but rest is important for your productivity too. And I'd hate to see you overworking yourself," he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "Let's go to bed first, and we'll tackle whatever's on your plate tomorrow, alright?"

He doesn't have to say much to sway you. It's one of his charms anyways -- being able to persuade you without even trying.

Arashi

Arashi glances at the clock. 1am. You've been working at your desk since 8, and she can see that you're already starting to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart? You should go rest," she says softly, resting her arms on your shoulders from behind. This brings your mind back to the present, and you sigh realizing that you've zoned out once again.

"Is this due soon?" Arashi asks.

"Not quite, but I don't want to pile everything up. I'm supposed to finish this part today but so many things happened that hindered my plans," you rub you the corners of your eyes. "And I'm already feeling tired,"

"Then you should probably sleep, right? Lack of sleep can mess your face up easily," she turns to cup your face, professionally observing your skin and missing the blush on your face. "You still look cute, but I'd be really sad if you became a victim of sleep deprivation~"

Her voice sounds light and casual, but you can tell that she's genuinely worried about your health. You pull her into a hug, burying your head in her clothes. She always gives the best hugs, hugs that understands you without having to exchange words, hugs that reassure you and rid you of anything on your mind, that remind you even if the world turned its back on you, you'd still have a home to come to.

"Let's go to bed," you suggest, voice woozy.

"Sure, but let's do some skincare routine first!"

You always enjoy doing routines with her even though you're never one to pay much attention to yourself. But something about her being close and taking care of your face makes you feel at ease, and with her soft hands working on your cheeks, you quickly fall asleep.

Noticing your dropping head, Arashi lets out a sigh before carrying you in her arms, planting a light kiss on your forehead

"Sweet dreams, my love,"

Keito

When you started dating Keito, Kuro was quite delighted. One because he never believed someone could actually put up with the man, and two because someone can finally keep an eye on his atrocious working schedule.

What he didn't expect though, is that you're just as much of a hard worker as Keito.

As the night passes, the two of you are still working incessantly. Except from the occasional small talks, there's only the sound of paper and keyboard in the room. The tea he brewed a while ago has already been emptied. You turn to look at the green-haired man, and although you can only see his back, he doesn't seem to be too affected by all this work. Perhaps his monstrous workload back in Yumenosaki Academy has turned him into a machine who doesn't feel tired.

But that can't be true. Surely, overworking a lot doesn't make you immune to it. Keito may not be vocal about how he feels, but he's still a human, and he's bound to feel tired,

The tapping sound on his end pauses abruptly as he turns to you, only to meet your observing eyes. This startles him a bit, and you let out a small chuckle.

"You should go rest-" he glances at the clock on the wall and frowns. "-it's already so late,"

"You're one to talk," you retort.

"I can still function without sleeping, but you shouldn't push yourself too hard,"

There it is again. He never seems to acknowledge his own weaknesses, only paying attention to others as he hides his feelings inside the myriad of work thrown at him each day.

"No one can 'function without sleeping', Keito. You're not a superman,"

"..."

Keito's shoulders are still tense, but he seems to be deep in thought as he isn't working on the computer either. After a moment of silence, he shakes his head and resumes typing. Perhaps he's reminded of his responsibilities, of the various roles that he plays, and how he can't afford to let anyone down.

As always, it's hard to move Keito. You brush it off and turn back to your work.

It isn't until Keito stands up to get himself a new mug of tea that he realizes how drained you look. Your eyelids are drooping and even from far away he can notice errors on the computer screen. Your figure is slouched, leaning towards the table like you just want to fall asleep right there but can't.

"You should really go to bed," Keito walks to you, hand resting on the chair's rail.

"Are you going to come with me?"

"What?"

"Are you going to come to bed with me?" you repeat.

"I still have work,"

"Then I'm not gonna rest yet,"

Keito raises his brows. "Are you threatening me with your own health?"

"If this is what I need to do for you to rest, then so be it,"

Silence fills the room. He watches as you tap away on the keyboard, re-typing every once in a while because your fingers just can't seem to find the keys. It's almost painful to watch.

"How incorrigible," Keito sighs. "Alright. Let's go,"

You jump to your feet immediately, dragging him to the bedroom. "No sneaking out after I fall asleep, okay? You have to rest for real,"

"Fine," Keito grunts.

The moment his head falls onto the pillow, he swears he can slip into dreamland right away. You throw your arm across his torso and he instinctively rests his head atop yours, listening as your breathing becomes more and more calm.

The both of you may be hopeless cases, but you always find a way to hold each other up.

#enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #natsume sakasaki #ibara saegusa #leo tsukinaga #arashi narukami #tatsumi kazehaya #keito hasumi #sie writes

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aseioh · 4 years ago

Text

The day the earth stood still pt.2/3

Author’s Notes: Striking a deal with an Eldritch being has never been so easy

Bela was numb.

Kneeling by the foyer of the house, she stared at the crystal remains in front of her. The whole house was in disarray, dolls once lovingly caressed now lay broken on the floor. Angie, Donna's favorite doll and pseudo-self was missing as well. Bela wanted to stand and investigate to see what had happened to cause all this devastation, but the thought of leaving Donna alone even for a second grounds her in place.

'She was alone' Bela thought, she was alone even in death. Poor Donna Beneviento the mysterious doll maker, in life and in death alone in every sense.

"It must have been hard for you, you couldn't stop him. You must have known that you couldn't stop him, only stall. Stall for a little more time" Bela talks to the crystal remains. Standing up Bela walks around the first floor of the house, she sees the fresh blood smeared on the walls.

'there must have been a chase, Angie's favorite hide and seek' shattered dolls littered the floor, sewing materials scattered on the table, books toppled from their shelf.

Bela stops by the foot of the stairs and looks at the portrait of Donna.

---

She remembers the time Donna came to the castle for the portrait commission, how she was fidgeting on her seat as her mother sketches. Donna was nervous even with her veil on her head, the fact that someone was looking at her so intensely was making her sweat.

"Now, now Donna no need to be nervous. It's just us girls here." Alcina tries to calm the nervous woman. "Look even Angie is calm" pointing at the doll Donna is carrying.

"Relax love, no one will see you here. Even then it's just Cassandra and Daniela, they'd like to see you and Angie later. Daniela will definitely want to play with Angie, and Cassandra would probably ask you about crochet patterns." Bela giggles at Donna's surprised look.

"Yes Cassandra's trying to learn crochet, when she learned that it involves stabbing things to make something she got this grin and started asking for crochet hooks" Donna giggles the sound so soft that everyone in the room can't help but smile. Alcina gives her daughter a small smile, thankful that she has managed to ease the nervous woman.

The rest of the day went by, with Cassandra and Daniela later stopping by to chat with the woman.

---

That portrait now hangs by the staircase the most prominent thing you first see inside the house. Donna's soft smile and Angie's grin captured perfectly on canvas. Bela was so lost by the portrait that she didn't hear the door open at first. Quickly sensing that something was different around her she swarms to Donna's side ready to kill anyone that dares disturb her lover's sleep.

Standing by the door is the last person she thought she would see.

"I see you've reunited with Lady Beneviento" The Duke stands by the foyer, leaning forward with the use of a silver walking stick a suitcase by his leg. The very fact that the portly man stands in front of her unnerves Bela, that and she realizes that The Duke towers over her although not as tall as her mother.

She immediately goes on a defensive, her body shielding Donna's crystal remains.

"What are you doing here. There's nothing for you to steal" Bela sounded furious how dare this man come here and barge into Donna's home. Readying her sickle she makes a move towards The Duke.

Sensing the tense atmosphere radiating from the young woman, The Duke lifts his hand in a stopping motion. "Before you continue in this destructive way, may I suggest you listen to my proposal first" The Duke enters the house and sits at the first available seat, Bela follows the man's movement never taking her eyes off him.

"Come and sit Miss Dimitrescu, I find it easier to bargain when both parties are sitting" Bela follows the man near the table but refuses to sit. "I'll stand thank you"

"Very well, now, about my proposal. I have been a proprietor of all kinds of wondrous items, and in my life I have accumulated fantastical and often occult objects that an average man would sell his soul to obtain-" at this The Duke looks at Donna's remains then looks at Bela letting the implication of his words sink in. "Objects that can curse its owner or grant wishes that beyond your wildest dreams."

"And I would like to extend my services to you, Miss Dimitrescu" The Duke finishes. Bela was quiet as she considers the man sitting in front of her.

Was this real? can she really bring Donna back to life. But as she hopes for the miracle presented to her another thought comes into mind.

"What's the price?" at that The Duke's smile broadens. "I always knew you were a smart one, Yes, as with all things in this world there will be a price to pay. Something of equal value for starters"

“Anything” Bela says without hesitation

“Ah but I haven’t even told you what the price is. Will you still be willing to exchange once you know?” The Duke prods Bela looking for any hesitation within the woman's feature and sensing none.

"Very well, I can help you revive Lady Beneviento but the price would be steep. Both of you will have to pay for it, for your part you will have to give up half of your life to sustain her. For Lady Beneviento she would have to give up her memories of you and any lingering feelings along with it. I would guarantee that she would have a new life away from here, a new start." The Duke ends laying down the terms of his proposal.

Bela listens to every word "And your telling me that what you've just proposed is an equal exchange?"

"I did say that it's just for starters, as you are in no position to give me anything of value, I do believe that I'm the one who can determine the terms and conditions of this bargain."

Bela considers the man's word and thinks of what her mother would have done. "If I do agree with what you said" she says carefully, "What proof do you have that Donna would be safe? Why are you helping me?"

"I'm just a humble merchant, I go where I'm needed, and I can't pass up on a good business deal." The Duke said with a sharp glint in his eyes. He almost seems inhuman. "And I can assure you, I don't renege on a deal. Lady Beneviento will be taken care of."

"And what if I want second opinion from mother?" Bela questions

"I'm afraid you can't do that. This deal is between you and me. The moment you walk out that door I will be gone and you're beloved will stay dead."

Bela steels herself and walks towards Donna's remain one more time. Kneeling down and gently placing her hands on the crystalized faced, Bela thought of happier times with her beloved. "I'll make this right Donna, No matter what happens I love you. I want you to find happiness, even if I'm not in the picture."

Standing up Bela faces the merchant. "I agree to your terms, but I want your word and proof that she will be taken care of. That you will bring her outside of this damned village and away from this madness. I want your word Duke."

The portly man stands up and walks towards Bela, extending his hands and offering to seal the deal with a handshake "Well then we have a deal."

Bela accepts the proffered hand and feels herself grow weak, a few more moments and the young woman faints her last thought of was of the smile of the mysterious doll maker.

The Duke nimbly catches the young woman before she hits the floor, surprising considering his rotund body. Carefully placing Bela on the floor, he moves towards his next client "Now Lady Beneviento, I will be taking the Cadou from you and there will still be minimal scaring. Hopefully with your new identity you will forget all the pain this village has caused you." He places a white circular object near Donna's torso near her heart. Like magic the crystalized remains of Donna began to form into her old body, checking if the woman is breathing, seeing as the woman looks to be asleep.

Moving towards the door The Duke retrieves Angie from a suitcase and gently placing the doll near Donna. Satisfied with his work, he moves towards Bela, scooping up the young woman he makes his way towards his carriage. Making his way towards the castle, he spots Lady Dimitrescu at the steps of the castle foyer. The Lady has recovered enough to be able to stand and wait for the return of her daughter.

"Good evening Lady Dimitrescu, I've brought your beloved daughter back. Do not worry she's merely tired, she'll awake in no time" The Duke greets the matriarch of the castle with his usual flair. For Alcina's part she eyes the man wearily sighing "You've done something to them haven't you? I will not ask the details as I know your ways merchant. I just want to know if my daughter will be safe."

"Do not worry madam, she will be fine, as well as the newly revived Lady Beneviento."

"So she did perish, alone. My poor Donna"

"I believe she tried her best to stop Mr. Winters, but alas, the man's willpower to get his daughter back is stronger than anything. I believe you also understand that"

"I do, my daughters are everything to me" Alcina said with a hard edge and finality in her voice.

The Duke carefully opens his carriage and retrieve the sleeping woman, gently giving her over to Alcina. Alcina brings Bela closer to her embrace to ward of the cold. As The Duke makes his way towards his carriage he turns to the Lady of the castle. "I shall now return to house Beneviento to retrieve Lady Beneviento and will get her to an associate of mine that would set up her new life. after that, I do believe we have our own deal to make."

"That we do" a thought crosses over Alcina "Why help us?"

The Duke considers, this wasn't the first time he heard that question and he deals the answers in half truths "There are forces in this world that exist that even science cannot explain, the old Gods have left but few remained and continue to slumber on. Some are sympathetic to human and would grant wishes when asked. I believe that is what happened with your Mother Miranda. My associates and I keep the balance in check." the surroundings behind The Duke starts to get fuzzy and dark, static sounds seem to come from everywhere. and as soon as it starts it ends everything comes back to normal and The Duke is back to his pleasant self. "I hope that answers your question, 'til we meet again my Lady"

Alcina understands that there are some things in the world that should be left alone, this is one of these. "Yes until later then. Thank you" Alcina makes her way back inside the house, nursing Bela near her breast. Cassandra and Daniela greets them by the door, concern in their face.

"Is Bella alright, Mother?" Daniela asked

"She'll be fine my dear, we all are. When this day ends everything will be made clear and the ashes of the damned will scatter in the winds" Alcina answers cryptically as the three women make their way further inside the castle.

Inside the carriage The Duke considers the days event, chuckling to himself 'and the Day isn't even finished yet. There are many more plans to move forward and a struggling parent to help'. His thoughts came to the lovers he just helped, the bargain was just he thought. He just hoped that he had a satisfied customer.

Smiling broadly he hums a long forgotten tune, his thoughts on the sleeping woman he brought back in the castle. If his predictions are right and if Miss Dimitrescu is as smart as he thought she is, then she would be able to find the loophole that was inadvertently placed.

Donna may have lost her memories of Bela as payment, but if they were meant to be together, then Bela can simply find her again.

Better send her an address then just in case. after all he wasn't one to just put everything in one basket, a little push on the right direction should be enough.

Now dreams run wilds, as lovers find their way Through the nights, not a care in the world And over there, over the twinkling of the lights Harbor lights, say goodnight one more time

----

Notes: Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion tomorrow!

#resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #donna beneviento #the duke #Beladonna #re8 village BelaDonna

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ukcyo · 4 years ago

Text

sehnsucht.

❦ summary ; as all of you wait to reach your destination, reiner and you are entangled in each other’s arms. there isn't any other place you'd feel at home than here, lying next to him.

➳ pairing ; reiner braun x reader

➳ genre ; angst, hurt/comfort, tinge of fluff

➳ warnings ; spoilers for chapter 129 and beyond, mentions of death

Slumber was meant for serenity and comfort, a brief escape from the disappointing (in your case—devastating) fact that was reality. Yet, this world remains as cruel and sadistic as ever, placing you into the realm of nightmares in order to prohibit you from even enjoying an ounce of rest.

Seeing the sea painted red, millions of lifeless bodies floating aimlessly, was enough to blast you awake.

Cold sweat overtakes you as your chest heaves rapidly, the horror of what you saw still vividly fresh in your mind. It makes you reel, eyes moving frantically as you remain unaware if this was reality or not, your heart pounding so hard it was as if it was going to explode.

But as soon as your eyes land on the man lying next to you, arm protectively wrapped around your waist, your body immediately relaxes.

Reiner’s eyes are shut close, his lips slightly parted as small huffs of breath consistently escape from between them. His expression was peaceful, which was something that greatly contrasted the sorrow and desolation that was frequent on his features from the moment you finally saw him after four years. You can’t help but feel a bit of joy and relief at noticing this, for it had been a while since you’ve seen him so serene and calm, as if the arduousness of life had failed to penetrate him. Seeing him like this was enough to tell you that what you saw was just a nightmare.

Seconds later, however, he begins to stir, eyes slowly opening to reveal their gleaming hazel color. You must have woken him up due to your rustling.

Reiner’s eyes immediately fall onto you, haziness still deeply laced into them due to the fact that he was still half-asleep. Your heart leaps when you feel his hand softly rub circles into your waist, the gesture bringing great comfort to you. Instinctively, you turn your body towards him, wanting to feel this as long as possible. His warmth and affection was the only thing keeping you together at the moment. It was the only thing preventing you from thinking just how plausible your nightmare was.

Yet, as soon as you do this, Reiner’s hands gently clutch your cheeks, tilting your head upwards. His eyebrows are furrowed in immense concern, the sleepiness present in his eyes now all gone.

“What’s wrong? You’re shaking...”

Curse his perceptiveness.

And curse you for not noticing that you were still deeply bothered.

“I...It’s nothing,” you reassure quietly, hoping to everything that your voice doesn’t betray you. You close your eyes as you rest the weight of your face on the hands that continued to caress your cheeks, focusing on completely calming yourself by the utter warmth and care emitted by them. Reiner’s hands were calloused and rigid, most likely stemming from all the strain and battles they were subjugated to. But despite that, they managed to make you feel like you are right where you belong.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you followed up, guilty over your actions. He was probably really tired and that brief sleep would have helped him a lot, “I know how exhausted and worn out you are.”

He feels a pang of shame from your apology. Even back then, during your training days and well into joining the Survey Corps, you had always managed to look through him like transparent glass. Despite how well Reiner acted as an older brother, carefully crafting his persona, you knew it was all an act. You knew how tired he got, how much he often wanted to break down and cry from both the hidden guilt and stress that came from the crimes in pursuit of completing their mission. And each time you noticed, you were there to comfort him. You always looked out for him, for his wellbeing, and always put his needs above yourself. Before he knew it, he was always crying to you about how tired he was, how he didn’t realize how difficult this all really was. Even if you didn’t know what he was really talking about, you never failed to listen, giving him the advice that allowed him to continue moving forward.

You were a savior, someone who always managed to give him a brief taste of solace. He grew intoxicated and soon, he wasn’t only falling in love with the way you gave him brief peace. He fell in love with your voice, the way your cheeks would rise when you threw a solid, ecstatic grin towards his way, how your eyes twinkled under the moonlight--he fell in love with you and the way you made him feel. It blinded and cursed him, because his love for you further tore him in half. And through this all, through all the conflict and inner turmoil, he never even thought of what you were going through.

And yet, four years later, during the end of the world, as both of you lay on this bed, entangled in each other’s arms, your cheeks snuggly resting against the palm of his hand, you never changed. Even after feeling the rapid rate of your heartbeat, your body shaking in fright, you still put him first. You thought about his wellbeing instead of your own.

How selfish and undeserving he was.

“[y/n] please... Please don't do that, I want you to tell me what's wrong," he pleads, tears already accumulating in his eyes, "You always think about how I feel, but you never think about your own."

You stiffen as you open your eyes to stare at Reiner in shock. Your heart sinks as you once more see guilt and self-loathe painted across his features, his staple expressions. The past four years that you shared away from each other has truly scarred and battered him in such a ghastly manner.

You clasp his hands that continue to tenderly encage your cheeks.

"I'm alright, I promise. It was just some stupid nightmare," you reassure with a tranquilizing tone. Yet, even after saying so, you can still clearly see the despondency in his expression. You can see the poison of diffidence littered all over his eyes, the tears that were still crumpled around their rims only further magnifying it.

He was suffering so much.

"You still don't believe me," you admit sadly, eyes downcast to prevent yourself from also tearing up, "Reiner, I know I already told you this but I'm much more selfish than you give me credit for. Even back then, I... A major reason onto why I was always there to comfort you was because it made me feel important, that my life was more than just constant danger. I wanted to keep that to myself, to keep you to myself. I never even once suggested you try telling the others about what you were feeling, because I wanted you to continue to look at me like I was the only light of your life. Because everytime you looked at me like that... I feel like the future is brighter than it seems to be."

His eyes widen as you bite your lip in pure, utter shame. Admitting this part of yourself burned you much more than you thought it would.

"I love you, Reiner, and I always will. That's why I always prioritize you and your feelings. That's why I could never completely hate you after you betrayed us all those years ago, no matter how much I should've," you confess breathlessly, "But to say that I do so selflessly is a lie in itself. I'm not that good of a person, and I honestly think none of us are. This cruel world makes sure of that."

You finally have the courage to look at him again, telling yourself that you'll accept the hurt and betrayed expression that will be present on his face. After all, you just shattered the idealized perception he had of you.

To your surprise, you were met with a genuinely delighted smile instead.

It was as if something heavy was lifted off of Reiner's chest after hearing you tell him all of those hidden thoughts. He feels extremely light, the exquisite taste of euphoria that he hasn't felt in such a while being so vividly present on his tongue.

You didn't love him out of pity. You love him because his presence gives you joy and satisfaction.

"Thank you. I'm... I'm so happy."

You're speechless, completely caught off guard from this unexpected reaction.

"Wh- I don't understand," you stammer, thoughts in disarray, "I just admitted to you that I-"

"You love me," Reiner reiterates with a much more cheerful tone than usual, "You love me because of who I am and how I make you feel. You don't love me because you think I need it."

You realize the reason behind his ecstatic reaction with your confession. Seeing Reiner so undeniably happy also made you feel similar sentiments, but the fact that he thought of your love in such a completely different way also planted a small seed of disappointment.

Your hand leaves his hand to caress his cheek instead, the small hairs that formed his goatee slightly tickling your palm.

"I never thought of you as a charity case," you whispered with a tone that sounded more pained than you intended, "I didn't fall in love with you because of your pain. I would hate myself if I did."

His tears finally spills over, its path down his cheeks being cut short by your hand.

If only things were different. If only they didn't turn out this way. He would've--

"I wish I married you beforehand," Reiner admits, "That way, when I end up dying from trying to save the world now, I wouldn't have any regrets. Because half of me would have continued living in you."

There it was. The toxic substance of lamentation. You felt the same, having the same thoughts over and over again for the time after learning of the truth behind the walls and what Reiner and the others had to go through. What if, if only, if only you didn't do this, what if you did that. It was a never ending cycle of pain, grief, and hurt that damaged you beyond mention. But as time passed, so did those emotions, and you found yourself accepting that the damage had been done. All you can do now is move on with the present and do better.

Reiner had never broken out of that cycle and you'd be damn to let him continue being in it.

"How do you know you will die," you question, "It's not like it's set in stone. We can still do it, we can still get married after all of this is over. All you have to do is survive. You have to fight to live as much as you can. I know I will, for you."

He gasps in surprise before his expression softens after internalizing your words. The Warrior was finding himself getting lost and intoxicated in the look of hope and adoration in your eyes, just like he did back then. You are a drug that attaches to him like glue and he will always embrace it full-heartedly.

"So let's survive for each other. Let's survive for a future we both deserve."

Reiner couldn't even bear to fathom what kind of emotions surged through him when the most heavenly smile etched across your lips after saying those words of promise. He felt like he was basking in the presence of a goddess, because it was almost impossible someone like you are real. Someone as ethereal and lovely as you can't possibly exist on this Earth. Yet here you are, hand wrapped around his cheek, saying you'll survive so you can still marry him.

"Can I kiss you," he timidly requests, voice barely above a whisper. He wanted more of your touch, your essence to envelop him whole, but a part of him still feels so unworthy of it.

A small, disbelieving chuckle escapes from you. You thought he would never ask.

"Please."

In an instant, Reiner guides your head closer to his until his lips finally meets yours. His lips were still as soft as they were four years ago, the sweetness and elation they provided you filled up the crevices of your soul. There was nothing on this earth that can defeat the way Reiner's lips felt against yours. There was no force that can match the passion and fervor that was present in the way his lips moved against yours, the action itself telling you just how vast his love for you was.

As exhilarating kissing Reiner was, you were more ecstatic over what this kiss meant to both of you. It was his promise, his promise to you that he will do his best to survive. The way that both of you are in a current liplock, joined as one, demonstrated his vow to make it out of this alive in order to join both of your lives together in marriage.

You wish this would never end.

You wish time wasn't so inevitable.

Reiner slowly parts from you after a while, his eyes looking at each and every feature on your face. He engraves the way you look right now in his mind, the memory of it already being one of his most treasured.

His thumb gently scrapes away at your cheekbones, as if to take something away. You didn't realize that you were crying.

"I will love you even after death. But you're right, I don't have to die so soon," Reiner confesses with sincerity, before returning to wrap his arms around your form once more. He flushes you against his chest as he places a loving kiss on the top of your head.

"I promise you. We'll both survive."

hellooo !! this is my very fic/ one-shot made on this site :'^ i hope you enjoy it as much as it was both fun and hurt to write lol

i'm still trying to navigate through tumblr and how to use it so i hope you bear with me !! thank you once again <33

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #can this man catch a break #i love him #aot x you #aot x y/n #reiner x you #reiner braun x you #aot oneshots #reiner #snk x reader #snk fanfic

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captaintrissy · 4 years ago

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Their reaction to you bringing home a stray dog/cat (BoB)

Dick Winters: When you bring home a tabby cat you found on the farm Dick let’s you explain why you think you should keep the cat without interrupting you. You already have an assortment of animals, so Dick doesn’t think one small cat will make much of a difference. And, as he points out, ”What’s a farm without a cat?”. He lets you decide what to name the cat, and what cat stuff to buy, but he definitely helps out with the cat and he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s cuddling with it.

Lewis Nixon: Let’s face it; chances are he’s the one who brings home a stray dog, but for the sake of this preference let’s say you’re the one who brought him the dirty and slightly scrawny golden retriever you saw on the street. You’d probably give the dog a bath and something to eat before Lew comes home. He barely had time to shut the door before the dog was by his side, excitedly wagging his tail and begging for treats. At first Lew thinks he forgot an anniversary and you got him the dog as a present. His mind is going 100 kilometers (because you Americans are the only ones to use miles) trying to think of something to give you. When you enter the hall he blurts out ”I’m taking you out for dinner!”. You respond that while you think it’s sweet, you probably can’t leave your new dog alone. He instantly begins to thank you profusely for the dog. A little confused you start to explain that he’s not from a kennel or a shelter. This makes Lew look up and, a little indignant, ask if you just picked his present up from the street. This leads to mutual confusion until you explain how you just found the golden on your way home. Relieved Lew asks ”Oh, so I didn’t forget an anniversary?”. With the confusion cleared up there’s only excitement from Lew’s part as he enjoys your new dog.

Harry Welsh: You found a box of abandoned kittens out in the rain by the garbage cans. You immediately took them inside and called for Harry. When he came into the hallway you explained the situation and asked him to get you some towels. After he’d gotten the towels he went into the kitchen and got milk so you could feed them something. While you dried the kittens off, Harry fed them. You slyly brought up that it’s almost Christmas. Harry sighed softly but otherwise remaining silent, contemplating it. He didn’t see any obstacles to you getting a pet, especially a relatively easy one, but an entire litter was a bit too much in his opinion so he agreed on keeping one (you got to chose which one). The next day he dropped the remaining kittens off at an animal shelter on his way to work.

Ron Speirs: When you first brought home the black cat, Ron was not happy. He thought you were doing just fine without a pet and he didn’t want to have to clean up if the cat makes a mess. However, he knows he’s not the most affectionate guy so you getting cuddles and attention from a pet might be a good idea. That reason wins him over and he agrees to keep the cat. At first it works out as you both had in mind but then Ron notice how he’s getting jealous when he sees you snuggling with the cat instead of asking him, so when you’re petting the cat he’ll sneak up next to you, put his arm around you and pull you into his side. This usually leads to the cat asking for attention from Ron instead, and after a while he does scratch its chin. Over time he becomes more fond of the cat and sometimes take the initiative to pet him.

Carwood Lipton: When you brought home a small, one-eyed cat, Lip wasn’t even surprised. He knows you better than anyone so he always knew there was a risk something like this might happen. When you ask him if you can keep it Lip wants to take the night to sleep on it, which you agree to. It’s not that he doesn’t like animals, it’s more that he want to make an informed and start decision. The next morning he lets you know that he agree to keep the cat. He figured that they’re fairly independent so it won’t be a problem leaving it alone while you’re at work, also it might be nice to have a furry companion.

Floyd Talbert: When you bring home a stray dog Tab feels like he can’t say anything against it since he did the same thing with Trigger. Not that he’d do it anyway, this man loves dogs, but he doesn’t want a small and ”girly” looking dog. He’s a paratrooper for Christ’s sake! So as long as you don’t bring him a chihuahua he’ll be picking out a name, dog bowl, bed etc. with you. Not to mention how he’ll constantly be playing with the dog or taking it out for walks. The one issue Tab might have about bringing home a dog is if it gets along with Trigger, he knows you can’t have two fighting dogs in the same house but as long as they get along he’d just be excited.

Don Malarkey: When you bring home the small corgi, Don has mixed feelings. On one hand he knows how much joy a pet can bring, but on the he’s not sure if you can handle a dog. Especially on those days when he feels down. So for a moment he just stands there, watching you fussing over the extremely cute corgi and then you look up at him, and he sees your big smile. And that settles it for him. All he want is to make you smile and be happy, and if a dog is gonna do that then you can have all the dogs you want. Like Dick he lets you take the wheel regarding the dog, but he definitely helps out as much as he can. After a few days Don notices how much the corgi is similar to Skip and at first he gets a bit sad about thinking about Skip, but then he thinks of a way to commemorate him. So he asks you if it’s oka if you name the corgi Skip, and you instantly agree, thinking it fits him perfectly.

George Luz: Like with Lewis, chances are it’s George who’s bringing home the stray dog. But if you were to do it, regardless of how dirty the dog might be, George will fins it the cutest thing in the world (after you of course). He’ll happily pet it and snuggle with it and get dirty himself in the process. George is so focused on the dog that he doesn’t even really think about where you got it or if you’re keeping it. When you start to explain the situation he halfheartedly listens, distracted by the dog. You just sigh and asks if it’s okay if you keep him, to which George readily answers yes. George then gives the dog (and himself) a bath while you go out for dog supplies. By the time you come home George has about a dozen name suggestions and you spend the rest of the evening narrowing it down.

Bull Randleman: Bull was surprisingly calm when you brought home the biggest dog he had ever seen, although he did ask you if it really was a dog and you hadn’t accidentally brought home a wolf instead. When you assured him that it really was a dog - an Irish Wolfhound - he asked you what you wanted to do with it. You responded that you wanted to keep it and started listing of all the benefits of owning a dog. Bull interrupted you after your third argument and said ”Okay”. At first you didn’t really believe that he meant it but he’d never been opposed to you getting a pet, and your arguments did show that you really wanted to keep the dog, so he agreed. While you take the biggest responsibility of the dog, Bull does help. Mostly he takes it for walks, saying that it’s the only one who can keep up with him.

Bill Guarnere: When you brought home the medium sized mutt from the street, Bill was very apprehensive. It’s not that he doesn’t like dogs, but with his leg he won’t be able to help out as much with the dog, and since you already do so much around the house (for the same reason) he thinks it might be too much for you. He’s also worried that the dog might run him down. But Bill hates denying you things, he just wants you to be happy, so when you plead with him to keep the dog he agrees to a trial period, to see if it will work. Two weeks later and the trial run is completely forgotten. As it turns out you found one lazy dog who’s happy with just short walks or being let out into the yard. Not to mention that Bill has fallen in love with the dog, he’s always snuggling with it, giving it belly rubs or talks about his day with it. He really has full fledged conversations with it, going as far as to ask for the dog’s opinion!

Joe Toye: Toye weren’t really sure what he felt, or what to do, when you brought home a cat. Companionship is important, he learned that in the war, but you already had each other. Plus now you’d have to clean after the cat and take care of it and he’s not sure you’re up for it. However, he doesn’t wanna crush your dream just because he thinks the cat is a bit of a hassle. What decide the matter is when the cat comes up to Joe, begging for pets. He can’t help but feel a little flattered that the cat likes him, and besides, you always get your way in the end.

Joe Liebgott: When you first bring home the two stray cats you found, Joe’ll grumble a bit and ask if you really need pets, but he always has a hard time saying no to you, specially when you pull out your puppy eyes. So you keep the cats with the condition that he doesn’t have to do anything in regards to them. Despite that statement you’ve caught him petting the cats and complaining about Webster to them. After a while he even lets them up on the couch. Joe will probably also give them some diminishing names, such as, but not limited to; Jackass, Dumbass, Freaky, Weirdster (see what I did there?) and hairball.

Eugene Roe: Doc is a very caring guy who doesn’t mind taking care of others, but he doesn’t wanna take on too much, like what it was in Bastogne. He just doesn’t wanna relive that stress and anxiety. So he’s very hesitant when you first bring home a small mutt, but he listens to you and consider your reasons for wanting to keep the dog. What wins him over is when you remind him that you’ll be taking care of the dog together, it won’t be just him doing it all. That reassures him that you can care for a dog and he agrees to keep it. You share the responsibility of the dog. You’ve noticed Eugene trying to teach the dog commands in french, which has had mixed results.

#dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #harry welsh x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #carwood lipton x reader #floyd talbert x reader #don malarkey x reader #donald malarkey x reader #eugene roe x reader #band of brothers preference #bull randleman x reader #bill guarnere x reader #joe toye x reader #george luz x reader #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader

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sckyie · 4 years ago

Text

song: streetcar by daniel caesar

word count: 2.6k

genre + warnings: angst to fluff; reminiscing in past heartbreak, breakdowns, timeskips, swearing, someone gets slapped

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: here's part 2 to driver's license,, i hope this was okay >~< i had to include a new song to the mix (its going into the playlist) soooo enjoy :) also my ratio for angst to fluff is TERRIBLE im sorry

Ever since you had confessed your feelings to your best friend, you had became so distant from everyone. Knowing you might've ruined one of the best friendships shook you. Lately you'd been driving around past curfew just to keep your mind off him. Passing all the street lights just felt like you were driving down memories.

That flickering light at the corner where Oikawa had helped you after crashing your bike into a pole. Or that bright cool light by the park where you, Iwa, and Oikawa first started playing volleyball. Or that one littered with stickers where you told both the boys that they better remember you when they were famous.

Apathy overcame your entire being. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, who knew heartbreak could have this effect on a person? It was hard going to school, avoiding Oikawa in every hall, dodging Iwaizumi on your way out, and even trying to ignore Kasumi was too much. It hurt like hell but you didn't want to know what Oikawa had to say. More so, you didn't want to hear what he was going to say, you knew what he'd tell you.

Two months until graduation.

It had been a over a month since that confession. The bright girl everyone used to know dulled out. No one knew why nor how it happened. It only stung between you and the boy you knew you could never love. Oikawa and Kasumi remained together despite the lingering thought of those words you said to him.

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" The crack in your voice shook those hidden feelings within you.

"Why not!" Oikawa held onto your forearm, restricting you from running away.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You screamed as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Oikawa froze at your words, unable to process them.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You shoved him away from you. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again."

Yet, you never spoke to him regardless. The sudden break between you two effected Iwaizumi as well. Although he had no part in the situation, he was torn who's side to take. He knew your secret but he couldn't betray both his best friends. Seeing you two spilt was like watching glass break. It's sudden, scattered, irreplaceable but if you tried to fix it, you could cut yourself or ruin the glass even more.

Oikawa took your last words as your goodbye. What was worse was that, he couldn't bring himself to find the right words to say to you. How could his best friend love him and never tell him? He never did end up telling Kasumi that he loved her. He began to question his feelings about her and well, you.

One more month until graduation.

"Hey Y/n, are you going to the third year dance?" Hanamaki taps your shoulder as you doodle on your notes. You shook your head, knowing well enough how you'd have to see Oikawa and Kasumi together. "Come on, we're all going."

"No thanks," You smiled. A sudden ache in your chest hit you as you looked back at your notes. "I don't like dances."

"Liar," Matsukawa joins into the conversation. "What happened to you?"

"Hm?" You looked up, tilting your head at him.

"Just come along, we'll drive," He suggests. "You don't need a date. Just tag along with he boys and Kasumi."

"Again no thanks," You turned him down. "I'm not on good terms with Oikawa right now. I don't want to see him."

"Well, then let's all four go together then. Me, you, Mattsun, and Iwa," Makki says. "We lowkey miss having you around."

"Yeah, come on, we don't have to go with them," Matsukawa agreed.

"Promise we won't hang around them?" You ask solemnly. They nod at you, prompting you to let out a long sigh. "Fine. I don't have a dress, do you guys want to come with to find one?"

Two weeks until graduation.

You stood in line with the three boys to get inside the ballroom for the dance. You carefully adjusted Matsukawa's corsage that matched your dress. Kasumi and Oikawa had came later, waiting farther back in line. He rests his hand on her waist as he examined the people in line when he spots you. This was the first time in forever since he could see you clearly. He had only caught glimpses of you through the halls, never seeing your face.

Was that the reason the guys didn't want to ride with him? For you? It hit a bit knowing they chose you over him but he knew how you haven't hung out with anyone lately. Always avoiding people, never trying to talk to anyone.

Inside the ballroom, you and the boys sat together at your assigned table. The songs seemed redundant, leaving you four to occasionally get up to dance. It wasn't until a slow song that caught your attention. You had your head leaning against Iwaizumi's shoulder when you spotted Oikawa and Kasumi walking center stage.

"I'm gonna go outside for some fresh air," You say, standing up. You adjusted your dress before walking away to the outside patio. The muffled sound of the slow song was heard as you rested your arms on the railing. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the streets nearby. It was hard to drown out the feelings of Oikawa after seeing him with Kasumi. You feel the pain well up, trying your best to resist crying.

You open your eyes as you feel something being placed on your shoulders. "You'll get sick out here," Iwaizumi says, standing beside you. "You're thinking of him aren't you?"

"Can we not talk about him?" You breathed, tears slowly rolling down your face. "I just don't want to think about how bad I fucked up."

"Well," Iwaizumi looked down at the ground. "Will you dance with me?" You turned to see him holding out his hand for you. Taking his offer, Iwa holds you close as the music played. He let you cry in his arms, knowing well enough that you needed this. Having held all your pain behind driving, you couldn't show how much you were in pain.

"Thank you Iwa," You sniffled into his chest.

"I'm always here for you," He smiled. "You're like a little sister to me...It pains me to see you all dull and hurt...When Makki asked you to come out with us, I didn't expect you to agree but I'm glad you did."

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

Oikawa held Kasumi close, carefully swaying back and forth together. With her head resting on his chest, he was able to see through the patio window. He spots you and Iwaizumi dancing but for some reason it stung in his chest to see that. Why is he hurt? He's with Kasumi and he loves her, right?

Graduation day.

A group of cheers goes around the ceremony as your final day in high school is finally over. You greet your old classmates one more time, saving your close friends for last. For some reason, all the pain you previously carried had faded away. You approach the gate to meet with your friends for the last time before you go off your separate paths. Makki and Mattsun agreed to text you more to keep up with each other.

Iwaizumi had hugged you once last time, telling you to do your best. You smiled for the first time in a while. It was strange but Iwa was glad to see you starting to move on. You and him agreed to update each other on your mental healths and to hang out whenever you'd visit. Then it was the one you dreaded.

Saying goodbye to Oikawa, it'll be the last time you'll see him. You waited patiently for him as he was caught up by some fans and Kasumi. When he did manage to leave the underclassmen, he spotted you waiting. "Hey babe, can you go on ahead? I want to talk to Y/n," He says to his girlfriend. She nods happily, walking by you as she left.

"Hey," He stops a few feet away from you, scared to step any closer.

"Hi," You said. "I have a few words for you." You let out a small chuckle, leading him to believe it was something good.

"Good or bad?" He laughed.

"Well," You started. "I just wanted to say goodbye for the last time...It was nice being your friend and I know how rough it turned out in the end...I'm sorry for not telling you before how I felt. I just thought I wasn't good enough for you and that you'd fall for someone else. Kasumi is a great girl and you two are amazing together...I really wish you guys the best...I know you'll do outstanding in volleyball like the king you are. You better not forget us when you're famous..Listen, I have to go before I'm late, so this is...it...Goodbye Tooru." You wiped a tear from your cheek, smiling at him. You quickly turned around, disappearing into the city.

"Wait! Y/n!" He rushes after you, only to get lost in the crowd of third years saying their goodbyes. Oikawa felt tears well up in his eyes as he desperately looked around for you. "You didn't let me say..." He whispered to himself.

A week later, Oikawa and Iwaizumi join each other to lunch at your favorite restaurant. Iwa scrolls on his phone waiting for the food while Oikawa looked at the booth you two would always get. "Hey Iwa-chan?" He asks. "Do you know where Y/n decided to go after graduation?" Iwaizumi stopped scrolling to think back at the third year dance.

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

"Anything," Iwa replied.

"I'm moving away from Miyagi immediately after graduation," You sniffled. "Remember when we were kids and we said we wanted to live in Tokyo or Kyoto?"

"Y-yeah," He was a little shaken up hearing that you'll be leaving so soon.

"My uncle just moved to Kyoto and he offer me a room there...and I said yes," You started to trace circles on his back. "It's by that college I wanted to go to and they have good jobs there and-"

"You don't have to explain yourself. You'll do amazing out there," Iwa chuckled. "Just promise you'll visit sometime?" He knew how much you needed to be away from Miyagi. Although it pained him, he knew it was only for the best.

"No," Iwa lied. "I haven't seen her. She hasn't texted in a while.

Three months after graduation.

You got into a cab on your way to your new job at a café. You stared out the window, admiring the new city you live in. Learning to adjust and work around the city was tough. The feeling of calling Kyoto home was strange, knowing that it wasn't.

Ever since you had said goodbye to Oikawa, things in his life changed. He believed losing you wasn't fair, not knowing where you'd gone always haunted him. He had broken up with Kasumi over the guilt held over his head. Always thinking about you when he was with her wasn't right. With you being gone, his only priority became volleyball.

You however, had let go of those old feelings you held onto. That last goodbye satisfied you, letting you sleep at night and allowed you to love yourself more. You've grown so much from dull slump you were stuck in for weeks. Though living in a different environment made it feel like you weren't even there.

Oikawa roamed the streets slowly approaching different shops along the sidewalk. He had some free time before the practice match he had, so it wouldn't hurt to explore, right?

That's when it happened.

You closed the door to your cab, turning towards the café's direction. Your eyes lock onto a set of familiar pupils. Frozen in time, the two of you never exchanged a word yet, suddenly a rush of emotions filled you both.

Pain, anger, fear, regret, almost everything you felt in the past came back to you seeing him. Standing before you, the man you once loved. The man you might still love.

You snapped out of your thoughts, walking towards him, stopping a few feet away from him. "Y/n what-" You raised your hand, harshly impacting Oikawa's cheek. His hand flies up to his face, holding the spot you smacked.

"You seriously broke up with Kasumi for me?" You growled. "Y-you're an idiot y'know? She was good to you too! Also ignoring Iwa for volleyball? I told you not to-"

"You kept track of me?" He whispered, a slight smile creeping on his face.

"W-Well obviously! I ask Iwa about you from time to time," You muttered. You looked up to Oikawa and saw him grin down at you.

Before you could say anything else, Oikawa puts his two hands on the sides of your cheeks. He pulls your face close to his, crashing his lips against yours. You tense at the action, gripping his wrists. He doesn't pull away until you settle into the kiss.

Your hands melt away from his wrists and reach for his torso. Your lips moved together in sync, almost as if it were a familiar feeling. He pulls away from you, pressing his forehead against yours. "You never let me say my goodbye," Oikawa snickered. "You said goodbye to me then disappeared without a trace."

"Sorry," You blushed. His hands move to your waist, still holding you close to him.

"I wanted to tell you that..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you too. I'm sorry I'm so late in telling you and I'm sorry for being caught up with Kasumi. I didn't know what I was doing and I couldn't talk to you...I fucked up for not seeing how much you- well how much I loved you...I know this is all late and you probably don't want to hear any of this but-"

You tiptoed and kissed his nose, making him stop. "How'd you find out you loved me?" You looked at him curiously.

"I was driving down your street and all the old streets we'd walk through," He started. "It reminded me of you and then I saw that white streetcar. The one that is always parked by the laundromat? It made me realize how much you meant to me."

"Seriously? That old junk car?" You laughed.

"Hey, it reminded me of you okay, just seeing it whenever we hungout and passed it," Oikawa squeezed your hip, making you chuckle at him. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Your laughter ceases as you look up at him. "I had to learn how to drive on the highway on my own, jerk," You brought up.

"Is that a yes?" He smirked.

"...No...Maybe," You squinted your eyes at him. "You owe me ramen."

"Wait how'd you know how I've been these last few months?" Oikawa pulls away from your hold.

"Oh Iwa was the first to know I was moving, I asked him to check on you every now and then. I just wanted to make sure your pretty face doesn't do anything stupid. You did by the way, you did some stupid shit," You grinned. "Hey are you hungry? I can get you something from the café for free." You turned away from him, heading to your job.

"Hey you can't just insult me then leave, come here," He runs after you stopping you a few steps away from work. Oikawa plants a rough kiss on your lips before looking down at you. "The only stupid thing I did was not tell you I loved you sooner."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @d0llpie @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu x you #hq x you #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa imagine #oikawa angst #hss; sckyie playlist

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jaxxandcomet · 4 years ago

Text

Goodnight, Pogues ∞ JJ x Reader

Summary: The carefree, confident and kind kook turned Pogue has an encounter with Rafe on the beach, leading to a few shots being fired.

Warnings: Blood, death, swearing, guns, sexual assault, sexual references ( if there is more let me know! )

Word Count: 2k!

This was not requested but I had the idea of a series where the seemingly perfect girl gets in an accident and it changes how she sees the whole world. Loosely based on On My Block, at the end of Season 1.

GIF by heapass

The day had been amazing. Full of blue sky, puffy white clouds, and salty spray. The ocean felt amazing underneath your board. The sun shifting through the water and rippling the sand below.

“Surfs up bitches!” You yell jokingly as JJ hits a huge wave, riding it perfectly before falling off at the end. You and Pope, who stands in the shallows next to you, leaning on his surfboard, laugh.

“You never swear.” Pope says and you nod at him. He was right, you never did. You were the perfect daughter to the kooks, smart, independent, kind, confident, carefree but because you hung out with the Pogues, basically lived at John B’s, and were dating JJ, the high strung people from Figure 8 never called you their own.

“I was joking mother fucker.” You answer Pope, as he smiles, bursting into laughter.

“I guess you’re changing then y/n.” Pope says and you shake you’re head.

Little did you know you would have no choice over the change coming.

A few minutes later JJ and John B paddle towards you all and you fall into you’re boyfriends arms. John B splashes you as a joke and you sink under the water, swimming under your surf board to grab his leg.

Popping up a few seconds later, Pope and JJ are doubled over in laughter, leaning against their boards for support.

“You screamed like a little baby, man!” JJ moves your board to hug you and you flip off John B, who’s face is almost too red.

“Good one y/n. You and JJ are the funniest people in all of Kildare County.” Pope said and John B shook his head.

“Sorry Johnny, its true.” You joke and flash another smile. By the time you hit more waves and walk back to shore, JJ and John B are drinking beers and the sun says its almost four.

“Chief. Nice waves you caught, baby.” JJ gives you and smile and pats next to him on a towel. A group of tourons next to you give you a look and JJ flips them off as you sit next to him.

“Sorry about that.” You say to the tourons. Its not like they know that you and JJ are together. Maybe they want to get in his pants, which you can understand. If you were them you’d want to steal JJ for yourself.

“So whats for the eating boys?” You ask and Pope walks up, shrugging. He sits down to your left.

“You.” JJ says and you playfully slap his arm.

“Sarah Cameron.” John B says and you roll your eyes at both of them.

“Not girls, dingus one and dingus two. Thank you for the compliment babe, but I mean like actual food.” You say back and they look unfazed. When John B started dating Sarah it was like a blow to the heart for you. John B and JJ had been there for you when you’re father left and your mother married a rich kook on the other side of the island. You’d basically fallen apart then. You felt like he’d been replacing you. But Sarah and him were made for each other, and you couldn’t break them apart if you tried, and you never would.

“We could throw a kegger after begging Ki for free food?” Pope suggests and you shrug.

“I’ll pay for you guys. Ki told me once that they give the leftovers to the homeless.” You say and JJ squeezes your arm.

“Your too amazing y/n.” He was right, you were the calmest, neatest, therapist like person the Pogues ever met. You’d never be seen getting angry, or not seeing the other side of things. If you friends got into an argument, you were always the mediator and tried to help them see the other side of the misunderstanding.

Loading up your gear, as well as helping Pope out, you pile into John B’s van and head over to The Wreck, and you see Ki outside, taking someones order.

You let JJ and Pope get out first and then shut the door behind you to grab your boyfriends hand and rub the back of his hand comfortingly. Sitting down at one of the tables near the back of The Wreck, Ki comes over, wearing a light pink ruffle crop top and jean shorts. Her curly hair is pulled up into a half bun, the ends frizzing. Her eyes sparkle as she eyes you all down.

“I got your orders already in boys and girl.” She says and sits down, signaling to her father at the bar that she is now on break. “I get off work in 30, what are we doing?” She asks, leaning against Pope as his face turns red. You’ve known forever that he is head over heals in love with Kiara, and you can’t really blame him. She’s gorgeous, smart, cares about the environment. You’ve tried to get the answer out of her if she likes him, but she never says anything, so you stopped pressing. You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Kegger,” John B says and you see him typing something on his phone.

“Inviting Sarah Mr Kook?” JJ asks and you try to read John B’s face. He smirks and then looks up.

“What? Uh, yes. I think.” You nod your head. Sarah is a good person, perfect for John B. She, too, was entirely beautiful, kind and the best girlfriend for John B. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Have you given her some of that John D already, mate?” JJ asks and you groan, fixing your posture after you leaned over in fake anger.

“You don’t have the answer that John B, but we all want to know.” You say. He’d told you that he nailed a few girls, which you were okay with. John B had nailed you and been your first kiss, which was hard to explain to JJ. You’d been so into him freshmen year, and then, it happened. But now, John B was entirely Sarah’s and JJ was yours.

“I mean, yeah.” John B blushed and JJ’s hand and his met in a high five, just before he setting a hand on your thigh. The warmth spread through your body and you grinned at your boyfriend, leaning in for a kiss.

“Thats my boy, Pogue style.” JJ says and you cringe.

“Okay ya’ll, this is getting weird. I’ll be back with your food soon.” You watch as Ki walks away, and then turn to JJ to see his gaze following her, landing on her ass.

“Well since the food isn’t here yet, JJ, do you want to go and get the stuff for the par-tay?” John B says, scooting his chair loudly to get up. JJ shrugs and you give him one more kiss as he walks away towards the door. Its just you and Pope now.

“Did you see him watch Ki?” Your best friend says and you nod.

“Don’t you feel jealous? Like I mean, if I were dating someone and the person looked at another girls butt, I would be pissed.” Pope says and you make eye contact with him, shifting your weight on the table.

“I don’t blame him. I know I’m beautiful, but he spent a lot of his life looking for a girl to have sex with. He told me sometimes it slips his mind. Then he feels bad about it. I love him, I know I’m enough for him. We are a good couple. I feel safe, you know.” Talking through it made your emotions feel better. Even though you didn’t get mad, the feeling of saying things out loud always helped.

A few minutes later, JJ and John B come back, and Ki brings the food. Once everyones eaten, you all pile into the car, and John B hands you the keys to his van. You smile at him.

You normally drove John B’s car, mostly because you were the most confident and had the longest attention span. You sat in the front seat and look back.

“Everyone buckled up?” You ask and Pope groans.

“Yes, Mrs bus driver.” JJ says in a high pitched voice, you break out a laugh, just like you have hundreds of times today. Sometimes your friends don’t understand that even though you feel great about your driving skills, and fairly sure you won’t crash the van, you just want them to be safe.

When you arrive at the boneyard, some kooks are already there, and you see Rafe Cameron with his stupid buddies Kelce and Topper doing a line of coke. Your face crinkles up with anger. Drugs are not a way to lessen the pain. Nor is drinking or smoking, for that matter, but especially not things like coke or dope. You shrug them off as people start arriving for the kegger, mostly just tourons looking for a good ol’ hookup on their week or two of vacation.

The sun starts to set as your boyfriend and John B set up the fire. You’re sitting next to Pope, who’s explaining something about dead bodies farting to a tourist that keeps checking her phone. You would normally listen to him, but you zone out.

Rafe, Topper, and Kelce are still doing lines of coke, even though they must be soaring high right now, and some blondie delivers a few cases of beer to them, adding to the pile of disguared bottles littering the sand.

After looking back at Pope and the girl, who walked away, you touch your best friends arm and pull him gently up.

“Want to go and look for sand dollars and watch the sunset?” You ask, and he nods his head. When you and Pope both met, you found matching sandollars, small and perfect, and got them made into bracelets. You’d been on the beach after a fight with John B, and Pope came up to you, wondering what a kook was doing on the cut. You didn’t explain the circumstance, and you don’t exactly remember how you both found the sand dollars, but now they were tied around your necks as perfect pendents, keeping you guys together.

You grab JJ’s arm and whisper what you and Pope are doing before he tells you to be safe. You lean in for a kiss and you can feel his smiling, tasting beer and mint on his lips.

“I love you, and I will.” You say, and he turns back to John B, who is talking to Sarah about something.

You and Pope walk past the other groups of people, getting wasted, as usual, and then find your way to the ocean. For a few minutes its quiet, just you and Pope shifting through the sand to look for anything beautiful, until you both sit down on the edge of the foam to watch the sunset. Its red tonight, a deep and startling color. Full of hints of gold, and sandy colors, and then some darker ones mixed in.

“You always try and watch the sunset.” Pope says as you pull out a small notebook from your shorts pocket. Inside, you describe the sunset tonight. Its colors, how it made you feel. Try and compliment it.

“I try to. Somedays I miss it, but its nice to see something beautiful every day.” You say, and then stand up suddenly. You see something in the sand in front of you. Bending over, you find its a broken sand dollar, one side torn to a sharp, serrated edge that would cut your skin.

“Ugh.” You say, kissing it before someone whiles behind you.

“Nice ass, y/n.” Rafe says, and you turn around to see him stumbling towards you, empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Thanks Rafe, but stop looking at it.” You say and he grins, tossing the bottle on the ground. Pope’s up in seconds, glancing back at the firelight where the kegger is still happening. Its the only thing, other then the moon, lighting the scene about to take place.

“I don’t want to. You know, maybe I could have some of it.” He says and you shake your head. He’s coming closer to you and Pope steps beside you, fear, and anger, in his eyes. Your scared to, but don’t let it on. No one can know your emotions, especially not this high, and drunk kook.

“I don’t think so. In fact, maybe go back to your friends.” You say as he comes into three feet of you. His hands reach out to grab you and Pope pushes them away, just as Rafe shoves him to the ground, kicking his side. You push the sandy haired boy and his knuckles dig into your skin. Pope is trying to get up, but Rafe must have broken a rib because his breathing is hard and flushed.

“You must have known you’d get fucked tonight, with that outfit you’re wearing.” Rafe says, and you kick him at his groin. You were wearing a pair of Levi jean shorts, a lacy white bra, and one of JJ’s button shirts to cover up your breasts, leaving the rest unbuttoned.

“What I wear has no affect on if I want to have sex with you Rafe,” you say, calmly, though fear is coursing through your bones. Rafe, struggles to get up, and almost falls over again, and your backing towards the waterline.

“Whatever you want to believe y/n, but you’ve made me very angry.” Rafe says, a little to loudly, and you cringe. Any chance at this not getting physical was out of the picture now. “And you know what happens to people that make me angry.” You stop moving backwards as your heals touch the water, and glance back at JJ, who, once he heard Rafe’s voice, came turning and walking quickly towards the scene unfolding.

While you were looking at your boyfriend, and now John B, who are both making their way towards you, Rafe, puts his hands on your waist and shoves you down. You try and punch him in the face, and grab his ankles and you kicks you in the side. Crawling away and standing up again, five feet away, he comes running at you.

Cold fingers slide around your neck, and you can’t breath. Rafe must be choking you out. With a last grain of effort, you spit in his face and try to back away, and then he pulls something out, and two shots are fired.

For a second, you didn’t know it was you that got shot. People were screaming and running away from the boneyard, and something wet was seeping into your shirt.

Then, the pain hit, and a scream came erupting from your mouth. Thousands of knives stabbed you right below your ribcage, in two different spots, and you fell to the sand, shaking.

This was like the movies. It was the movies. How could you be feeling so much pain? You must be dead already. It only made sense. This was to much. But you couldn’t leave JJ or Pope or John B or Sarah or Ki without saying goodbye.

Someone was right next to you, looking into your eyes. The pain was getting worse, and making your vision white. All at once, your hearing came back, and Pope was next to your left side, with JJ on the other. Both were holding your hands, which were laying in red sand.

You look down, but the pain stops you from seeing the bullet holes in your chest.

“Call 911!” Ki shouts and Sarah picks up the phone, dialing the number.

Your breaths come out in shocked waves, pulling and turning. Its getting harder to get oxygen as well. Somethings clogging up your throat.

As you wheeze for air, and try to stay afloat, you desperately want to watch whats happening, but your so tired. What time is it? It must be past your bed time by now. You have to tell JJ and Pope goodnight, just like you always do.

“I-I lo-love you gu-guys.” You muster out quietly, and JJ shakes his head. With each word and breath your getting more ready to fall asleep. “Goodnight, Pogues.” You say, and JJ clutches your face. You’ve never seen him cry like this before. Big tears sliding down his face.

“Don’t fall asleep. Please don’t fucking fall asleep!” He screams and you hear something wailing in the distance.

“But I-its getting hard-harder to breath JJ. I don-don’t want to fight any lo-longer. Please let m-me sleep.” Your voice is horse and choked. Your breathing is the same, only coming in short bursts.

“Don’t give up, please.” Pope says and you shake your head.

“Listen to Pope, don’t fall asleep. We love you. Keep fighting!” JJ orders, but you zone out. Is that blood in your mouth? Something tastes metallically.

“Don’t let her fall asleep JJ. She might not wake up.” John B says, and you watch as he stares at you, Sarah hugging him tight. She must have already called the ambulance.

“Look at me, okay,” JJ says. You try to, but yours eyes are closing. Pain stiffles a cry as Pope is leaning over your midsection, pressing something to seep up the blood pooling from out of you. “Your going to be okay,” JJ says.

“Goodnight John B, goodnight Sarah and Ki, goo-goodnight Pope. Goodnigh-good-goodnight JJ. I love you guys.” You speak slowly, and JJ shakes his head.

“Don’t fall asleep, please.”

“We love you Y/N. Please don’t leave us.” Ki sobs and Pope looks into your eyes.

The wailing is getting louder. Closer. And then the long awaited sleep breaks through.

Tell me if you want it to be continued!

a and c

@apoguecalledjj @drewswannabegirl @yuxsh06 @kindapinkskies @spider6oy @jjmaybankwildtimes @midnightmagicmusings @r0s3mm @pankowrudeth @ijustreallylovethem @love-chx @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @ceruleanjj @outrebanx @thegreatestofheck @anonymous0writer @poge-life @popcsheyward @ad-infinitums @jjsmaybcnk @collecting-stories @maybebanks @northcarolinanative

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robron1609 · 4 years ago

Text

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

#robron week #rw2021 #robron fic

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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: rengoku kyojuro x gn!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: henlo is me again, i’ve never owned cats and it shows i made this into headcanon format, but if you were looking for something feel free to resend a request c: alrighty hope you like it

edit: i know this is a super long time since this ask was actually sent to me?? and i honestly have no excuses to give. i’m really sorry to whoever sent the request: i was just procrastinating and then covid hit and my motivation plunged even lower. i know this is not much, and it’s probably ooc to all hell but i do hope you like it.

so ok, here’s the premise: you just moved out of your old residence, whether it was a flat or a house—you’re outta there! you is gone !

and ur friend or flatmate had a litter of cats and u just couldn't help urself but adopt one. they were just that cute.

so u did.

got that bad boi for free too, what a bargain!

and anyway u love that bastard with all ur heart.

it's just a bastard but she’s your bastard so it's all good.

very adorable dainty catto, and you took her to the vets to get her checked up, vaccinated, dewormed, and all that good stuff to make sure she will have a long and healthy lifespan.

u recall that u need to bring her in within 6 months to get her spayed so that there wouldn’t be an accidental litter. the operation is postponed since rn she’s too small, and ur like.

ok, i'll see u in 6 months.

that was 3 months ago.

now u moved out into a new apartment, with ur precious catto in tow.

after u finished bringing in all your boxes and furnitures and such, you thought to yourself, “hey, why not start this new chapter in life with a good start by acquainting myself with my neighbours”.

and that's exactly what u did: u gathered like, a packet of strawberries, and went over to the flat directly in front of urs while rehearsing what you will say in your head.

as you reached the other side and pressed the doorbell, you wondered who lived behind those doors…

first you’ll introduce yourself by name.

maybe it was a married couple? maybe even with a family?

and after that, you’ll tell them that you just recently moved in.

or perhaps it would be some elderly gentleman or lady?

and then, you will hand the gifts over and express that you hoped that the two of you will get along—something like that.

worst case scenario, the person is some weirdo… you hoped not…

the door finally opens with a click and you begin to recite what you had practiced:

« hey my name is... » your voice tapers off as you fully took in the person greeting you.

your voice disappears, meeting someone you absolutely did not expect. out of all the possibilities, you did not think for a moment that your neighbour would be the handsome young man with piercing golden eyes, lustrous locks of bright yellow hair, and an even brighter smile, standing before you.

were you staring? you were staring weren’t you? you realised in embarrassment that you were staring at the man, who was probably confused to all hell as to why you appeared on his front doors.

fighting your urge to combust and run away, you introduced yourself following the script you made up (though with more stutters than originally intended) and brusquely handed the berries over.

he happily takes your gift, repeating your name, assuring you that he was listening. it’s so stupid, but the way he says your name makes your stomach do flips. « well, welcome! he says enthusiastically. i’m rengoku kyojuro! i hope you enjoy it here! »

and that was that.

you mechanically went back to your flat, face burning and nervousness still clawing at you.

you’d say that you got adjusted to this new life pretty quickly. you seldom visited kyojuro as you were too embarrassed to pop by and chit-chat as often as you would’ve preferred to—dreading the thought of crossing him on your way to your own flat whenever you went home—but otherwise everything had been good.

alas, your cat was now 5 months old and oh boy.

something tells you your cat was entering its heat cycle or something—you were a first time cat-owner, but you had an inkling.

if your cat’s sudden affectionate, or over-affectionate, streak and unexpected attention seeking behaviour was anything to go by. she would roll on the floor, rub herself all over you and leave fluff all over your clothes, and yells.

she screm!

most stressful of all was how she absolutely wanted to escape to the outside, but you were not having it. you did not want kittens. one cat is enough thank you.

but nope, your wishes were in vain as one day, she just fucking disappeared—god knows where she is , she’s just somewhere.

understandably, you lost your shit and panicked because holy hell your cat escaped!!!

you went around to look for her, with no luck, and you were absolutely heartbroken.

that was until like??? 2 months later and you went to open a drawer to get some socks and lo and behold!

A CAT

and not just any cat! your cat! AND NOT JUST YOUR CAT! but also a bunch of other smaller cats, also known as kittens!

at this point, you weren’t even upset at the thought that you fucked up and ended up having kittens—you were just happy your cat is back and alive and well and back home. who knows how she entered back into the house.

who cares??

your cat is back!!

you’ll just have to spay her once she’s done nursing.

but as you watched over the litter, which looked like your cat but also another cat, you began to see a resemblance between their orange fur and caprisun, kyojuro’s ginger maine coon!!

and now everything makes sense…

body working on autopilot, both because of how tired you were after watching over the cats and also because you were still dissociating from the realisation, you stiffly made your way to your neighbour and ringed the doorbell… ignoring the fact that this was now 2 in the morning.

you had to tell him, or confirm or do something with this new knowledge. his sleep can wait.

surprisingly, he answered the door without you having to ring him a second time. unsurprisingly, he looked tired and was ???? at you summoning him at such an odd time in the evening.

« i know that we don’t really talk, you started. but i need to show you something: i think your cat might have gotten my cat pregnant?? »

that caught the blond’s attention enough to wash the grogginess away from his face, and he followed you back to your flat.

normally the idea that a stranger, a good looking stranger no less, was going into your flat would fluster you, but right now you were a man with a plan, you had something to do and that was to show kyojuro the litter of cats.

he was surprised when he saw them, but confirmed that you were probably right, and that his male cat had probably gotten to your cat during her disappearance.

at this point you were a little bit (a lot) overwhelmed by the responsibility that came along with being a parent (and a grandparent), so you were about to ask him to help you coparent for the little buggers.

but he suggested it before you had the chance to, taking initiative:

« then! he expressed emphatically. we must raise this little kitty family together! kyojuro declared. »

and thus began your misadventures together as cat parents.

even though you both had work and a multitude of other things to do during the day (kyojuro still has his own cat to take care of, for that matter), you made it work—perhaps through sheer stubbornness and desire to make things right.

if anything, this whole ordeal cemented the fact that you were officially put off from having real children: if taking care of kittens was this demanding, imagine a whole actual human baby.

no way, no thanks.

you’re good.

hard pass.

funnily enough, after taking turns to take care of the cats and after the shifts to watch over them, you two had become fast friends. despite your reluctance with meeting him again after your disastrous greeting, you found yourself being very comfortable being in his presence and getting used to having him over in your flat (for the cats, of course).

but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with kyojuro, conversing with him and learning more about each other as you both opened up to one another.

it was when he beamed at a joke you made, wearing his signature exuberant smile and laughing a laugh that you found so adorable, that you realised that you were in too deep. that you were definitely catching feels.

sometimes, you wished that you two would’ve been more than just friends. you wince at the thought that the two of you drift apart after this whole mess was over. but you pushed that inevitability away from your mind.

for the most part, nothing noteworthy ever happened as you took care of the kittens as the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm.

one day, while you were both taking care of the cats, his exhaustion got the best of him and kyojuro fell asleep. you found him dozing off on the couch when you walked in, and you had to stop for a moment and tiptoe in the piece because of how peaceful he looked as he was resting. it was incredible how impeccable he looked, awake or asleep.

secretly, you took a picture, capturing this moment forever. he looks adorable. you’ll probably show the image later and tell him that he can take it easy for a while seeing as he was worn out and that you just received a few days off.

speaking of sleeping on duty, you’ve caught yourself passing out once or twice (ok a few times, more than just once or twice), but the weirdest part of all was that you would always wake up on your bed instead of wherever you fell asleep.

butterflies would go feral in ur stomach at the implication that kyojuro had been carrying your sleeping form to your bedroom.

but that was what has been happening right?

you think that at some point, you had fallen asleep on kyojuro… but to save yourself from the embarrassment, you chalk that up to your imagination running wild or a dream.

a few months into this ordeal, he pulled you over to another room to talk privately to you (ignoring the fact that there wasn’t anyone else in your apartment except for the cats).

he seemed to carry himself with a hesitance or shyness that was never there, and you found yourself dreading what he was about to tell you. what kind of bomb was he about to drop on you?

before starting, he paused for a moment, resolute… or was that a look of determination in his eyes? you didn’t know what to expect and it made you worried.

« i have something i need to tell you, convey to you! he started, confidence not lost in his voice. there is a burning passion in my heart, and it was about time that i listened to it! i know we’ve only met just recently, but after our time together i realised that i have feelings for you! he uttered your name again, with such gentleness and softness that it made your heart tighten. i like you! »

« i like you too!! you responded quickly, too quickly. you winced at how loud you unintentionally were, but he didn't seem to pay attention. »

instead, a radiant smile graced his features as he realised that you shared the same sentiment. and the same smile spread on your face, happy that he returned your feelings.

slowly, he moved closer to you and like a magnet, you mirrored him.

perhaps a bit hesitant, you could feel the ghost of a kiss over your lips as he leaned towards you, inching ever closer to each other.

but as your lips were about to connect, you hear crying from the other room…

the cats!

you two jerked away from each other, alerted by the sound, before looking back at each other, dumbfounded.

after what felt like an eternity but also an instant, a chuckle escaped you as you began to laugh uncontrollably—overwhelmed by giddiness and the sheer absurdity of this entire situation—and the blond followed suit, laughing along with you.

as you calmed down, your eyes found each other and the two of you just smiled.

the both of you wore brilliant smiles, and you were floored by the tenderness he held for you.

you look like a mess.

and he looks like a mess.

and you're both tired beyond belief.

but you’re both really happy.

and really happy to have each other.

(and your cats of course).

you’ll have to thank your cat later for helping you meet this wonderful person.

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

#Kimetsu no Yaiba #demon slayer #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny rengoku #kyojurou x reader #kny kyojuro #falselywrites #fluff #headcanon #cats #domestic fluff

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Even Think About It?

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~8.8K Notes: Sam Smith is an absolute angel and I’ve been obsessively listening to their new album Love Goes. One of my favorites on the record is Kids Again, so I gave myself the opportunity to listen to it over and over again by writing a fic based on it. This is the product. Warnings: There be angst ahead. Summary:

Peter needs a job to help pay for graduate school, so MJ hooks him up at the breakfast for dinner restaurant she works at, Stevie's. It's not his dream job, but he likes the atmosphere and the cute sous chef who's chalk full of advice.

6 years later, Peter's mind is stuck on the young love he let go and the man who changed his world.

Or: A Starker love story told in flashback and set to a Sam Smith song.

Read on AO3 here.

November 2nd, 2020

Peter should’ve known the day would be an odd one when he heard Beyoncé’s Mine to start the day. Though his mind took many detours to the thought of Tony Stark, tangible things like their song made his heart ache just a little bit more than usual. It’d been years since he heard from him, and even after all that time, he still missed him – more than he usually cared to admit. Like it was six years prior, Peter sung along to the lyrics, the ghost of youth and Tony’s touch wrapping him up and surrounding him, dragging him under the weight of precious memories.

With Tony now on the forefront of his mind, Peter mindlessly went through his getting ready routine. His school had a pretty lenient dress code, so he slipped into straight-legged black trousers and a white button down, maroon cardigan combo. Topping off the outfit with all black Chuck Taylor’s, Peter made his way out to his kitchen to heat up the water for the French press that sat in a place of honor on the counter. Another Tony Stark influence, Peter realized as he portioned off his coffee serving and pressed down the pump, the delectable smell of freshly brewing caffeine bringing a soft smile to his face.

He didn’t do anything adventurous until he met Tony all those years ago – let alone make his coffee in a fancy French press. Tony’s love of food and fancy utensils to create and serve it rubbed off on him in a lot of ways, his brown eye’s catching the well-maintained cast-iron skillet sitting on the back burner of his stove. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter forced himself to see the remnants of Tony littered around his place. They lived so much life together in those short years together. It wasn’t surprising, now that he let himself think about it, how much Tony stilled ruled so many things about his life.

They changed the world together – Peter’s world specifically. It itched, how much he yearned to be that kid again; youth brought him happiness – the understanding of that now several years too late.

Forcing himself to get his shit together, Peter gathered his messenger bag and the lunch he packed the previous night before heading out of the house. He caught up on grading over the weekend, so a later than usual arrival wouldn’t be too debilitating. His mind was so caught up on other things, he marveled at the fact that he managed to get out the door at all. Sometimes, the feeling was so consuming – sometimes, he pushed through it and coped with their song on repeat his entire drive into work.

The day went by pretty easily, for the most part. Teaching advanced physics to high school aged students wasn’t too colossal of a task – he’d been working in the same classroom for the last six years; he could probably do half of his lesson plans with his hands tied behind his back. A majority of his students were those most would deem brainy, so there wasn’t much ruckus to deal with or discipline to dish out. Instead, he let his mind stray to Tony’s dark hair and the tan of his skin after a day spent down by the ocean. He stayed in the game just long enough to get through the day – then, Peter let his thoughts run away from him.

Before he knew it, he was behind the wheel of his car heading towards the east side of the city. Tony hadn’t lived there in years, but Peter did his best to avoid it, anyway. The corners of his mind that Tony occupied seemed like enough space to give him – visiting their old haunts felt like a step too far. Until now of course, his car idled by the all too familiar sidewalk, the blue door of Tony’s home still as bright as it looked back then. Whoever took over the lease there kept it up – they would’ve been insane not to after all of the work Tony put into it.

A weird yearning sat in the pit of his stomach. As a good looking soon to be 30-year-old, it should’ve been insane to be this wrapped up in the past and all the delectable memories it held. He wasn’t social awkward and had a good head on his shoulders – there’d been many men that tried to steal his attention, even. Yet, Peter invited the presence of those memories, instead. For every not so good thing that happened, there were 20 great adventures that took its place. Despite years of distance, Peter missed Tony – missed him and the person he let himself become under the radiant affection and liveliness that Tony brought to his life.

Peter tried not to think about the prospect of turning back time, but as he sat in front of Tony’s old place, he wished for just a few minutes of those old times – some of the best days of his life. What he wouldn’t give to be a kid again, sitting in the shining sun with the most radiant man he’d ever met, even now – even years later, Tony held that title so tightly, there wasn’t room for anyone else.

Shaking his head, Peter gave the blue door a longing look – if he didn’t force himself to leave in that moment, the strength would never come. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the tires grinding against the curb ever so slightly. He laughed at himself, the consistency of his driving habits making his chest feel warm. Even after all those years, he still misjudged the width of the curb. The thought gripped his heart tightly – there were so many things that hadn’t changed and so many things he wished didn’t all that time ago.

In his melancholy, Peter didn’t notice the front curtain twitch, or see the door open – a slightly older Tony Stark stepping out of it with confusion written all over his face.

The ride home consisted of a few tears and the stereo of his car scratching ever so slightly with the loud volume of the song he’d been listening to non-stop all day long. Peter stopped to grab a sub from his favorite pagoda in hopes of making himself feel better, then finished the trek back to his lonely apartment – the folding of his laundry the only thing for him to look forward to when he got there.

He got one of his feet out of the car before the vibration of his phone in the cupholder stopped him. Not recognizing the number off the bat, Peter let it ring, the buzz of it against his thigh as he slipped it into his pocket. Not thinking much about it, Peter got up into his apartment, dropping his sub and keys on the counter without much thought. Then, his phone vibrated again, this time, the three-pulse rhythm told him that whoever just called left him a voicemail.

Intrigued, Peter fished the phone from his pocket, his eyes bulging when he saw Siri’s suggestion of who it was (MAYBE: Tony Stark). Taking in a deep breath, Peter set the phone down, then immediately picked it back up – his brain was running haywire and standard operating procedures were not functioning at their usual capacity.

It was almost like the universe heard his call, or understood the pain he’d been in. Why, after 6 years of no talking, texting, or communication at all, did Tony reach out now? And if he listened to the message, what would come of it? Did he really have the strength to do the right thing here? Or the wrong thing for that matter?

Almost like he was working on autopilot, Peter let his thumb navigate the phone until he was a second away from listening to Tony’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever. Anticipation raced through him, his skin tingling with nerves and excitement that he couldn’t quite tamper down. Tony Stark, after so much time. Grinning, Peter let the rest of his resolve crumble, his finger pressing the play button before he could think too hard about the whole thing.

Hey Pete,

At least, I hope this is still Peter Parker’s number. I remember you saying you hadn’t changed your number since you were a teenager and am banking on that fact. I could’ve sworn I saw your old Honda out in front of the old apartment today. I’m back in New York, for good this time, and wanted to see you. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough to stop you, but I thought I’d reach out. I’ve missed you.

Anyway – call me back. This is my new number, so you know where to reach me.

Peter spent the next five minutes listening to the message over and over again – the cadence of his voice hadn’t changed a single bit and the slightest hint of affection that sat there was unmistakable. Tony made it seem like no time at all had passed, like it was normal to call an ex up out of the blue, like it wouldn’t change Peter’s world to hear that he missed him – that after 6 years, Peter was still on Tony’s mind.

Clutching the phone to his chest, Peter took a few long deep breaths before making a decision. His mind would never leave him alone if he didn’t take the steps laid out in front of him – if he didn’t hit the call button and see where a conversation with the love of his life could take him.

There was a slight pause before the phone rang, then a click of the call being answered on the other side of the phone. Peter waited with bated breath as Tony settled onto the other side of the line, his inhale before saying anything more than enough for Peter to spring forward into the abyss.

“Hey, Tony – “

August 2012

Walking into Stevie’s, Peter didn’t know what to expect. Being a small-town kid, the big city still seemed impenetrable, despite living there for the entirety of his college education. Though, thinking about it, he supposed that he stayed in a pretty narrow bubble during his time in school. Getting into the master’s program, Peter knew he not only needed to branch out a bit more, but also needed to make some spare change to help pay for the next two years of classes.

Which is how he found himself standing outside the small restaurant, his first shift set to start in 10 minutes. With his apron in hand, Peter took a deep breath and pulled open the door. The smell of cinnamon and something on the savory side hit his nose as he stepped inside, his chest already loosening. Comforting scents always brought down his defenses – the 20 candles that riddled his little apartment spoke to that very fact. He liked to be wrapped up in familiar things, smells included.

Taking a few more steps into the restaurant, Peter brightened up even further when he saw MJ approaching him. They met during freshman philosophy, the two of them making fun of the professor before even exchanging names. With that sort of chemistry, their struck-up friendship didn’t surprise anyone. Her decision to stay in the city and continue her education played a huge part in Peter’s plans – Nebraska wasn’t calling him home, or anything, but he didn’t want to be lonely in the city – he got his fill of that feeling during the first few months of adjustment when he first arrived.

MJ getting the waitress job couldn’t have happened at a better time, either. Though he was smart (smart enough to graduate with a double major), scholarships were few and far between, so only half of his education was getting paid for by the school. Unlike his undergraduate experience, Peter knew he needed to work, both to make money and gain experience. Stevie’s wasn’t the classroom that he belonged in, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Peter Parker – am I glad to see you,” MJ said in the way of greeting, her cheeks pulling up in a slight smile. She was a tough, sort of grungy girl, but her affection for Peter shaded her actions towards him, giving her a softer edge where Peter was concerned. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards what could only be the employee break room. “It’s kind of slow tonight, so you’ll have lots of time and space to learn everything you need to know.”

The slightest feeling of relief washed over him when they busted through the doors and only a couple of people were scattered around the room. On any part of the weekend, Stevie’s had a line out the door. There weren’t many breakfast for dinner joints in the city and the unique combination of sweet and savory of their menu brought people from all over the city to their little corner. Before applying, Peter battled with the anxiety of being around that many people – but the good money and ability to work with MJ overran the negative feelings he almost allowed himself to manifest.

After being introduced to the few people sitting around the break room, Peter clocked in and donned the traditional black apron that all of the servers were sporting. MJ took him around, showed him how the computer system worked, and let him shadow her during a couple of orders. When things started to pick up, she sent him off on his own – she had the utmost confidence in him and told him so many times throughout his brief training. He could handle thermodynamics like it was elementary math – serving people had to be a breeze.

Quickly, Peter realized that being a waiter took a lot more skills than he initially thought. Though the computer system was easy enough to navigate, remembering what went where and who ordered what took a few tables to get used to. He played musical plates a few times before getting the hang of labeling the people at the table and putting their order by said label. By the time Peter got within an hour of his shift being over, he finally felt like he could handle himself.

While in-between tables, MJ flagged him down – her hair was a mess and there were more than a few spills on her apron. “I’m swamped with this huge party that just sat down.” She looked over at the large table, her eyes focusing in on the unruly children climbing all over the chairs. “Could you take my other table? Their food should be up soon – it shouldn’t be too much work.” Without waiting for an answer, MJ turned back to the big party, her shoulders set in what Peter knew to be her determined stance.

Using the table planogram, Peter got the table number before heading to the kitchen to grab their food – their ticket number had just popped up on the screen outside of the window. Looking over the order one more time, Peter was surprised to see a tan hand reach out to tap his fingers that were just about to wrap around the edge of the first plate. “That’s a hot plate. You’ll want to cover your hand before you pick it up.”

Somewhat shocked at the timbre of the voice talking to him, Peter took a step back from the window, his hands flying up in surrender, like he’d actually touched fire, or something. Looking up, Peter forced himself to catch his breath. The older sous chef that stood in that spot for most of his shift was gone, only to be replaced with the most gorgeous human Peter could remember seeing. His lips were framed with a gorgeous, and well kept, goatee. Honey-golden eyes watched him with intrigue, and when their eyes met, Peter got to see the most glorious smile.

A soft blush overtook his face – Peter did his best to hide the rush of it and the smile that accompanied it. Ducking his head, Peter bit into his lip, his brain desperately trying to cling to whatever words he could remember in the heart racing moment. “Uh – thanks! I’m new, so I probably would’ve burnt off my skin if you didn’t step in.”

He ached to hold his hand out between them, to see if his skin was as warm as his eyes were. Yet, he understood how much he already made a fool of himself – Peter kept his hands down by his side with a sort of resolve that shouldn’t be necessary in a situation like this.

That rich voice sounded again, this time directed solely at Peter – the man’s attention on him explicitly. “I figured as much. I’m Tony – one of the sous chefs around here. You’ll learn pretty quickly what you can and can’t pick up. Just don’t drop shit and you’ll be okay.” His words were brief and somewhat cut off, but his eyes never left Peter’s – they seemed to burn into him with every second that passed.

“Good to know. Thanks again, Tony.”

Peter used the cloth napkin he tied to his apron earlier to grab the plate – the heat barely there through the fabric. He grabbed the other plate with his free hand and was about to turn away from the kitchen when Tony spoke again.

“What’s your name, new kid?” His eyebrows were raised when Peter turned to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Beaming, Peter turned away, his cheeks burning from excitement and a rush of heat that his short conversation with Tony brought about. He sucked in a couple of long breaths before approaching his new table, his smile now back to its normal range.

The rest of the night flew by, Peter getting lost in the last couple of tables that came in before closing time. Though, none of them ordered any food, so he didn’t have an excuse to head back to the kitchen. Despite that, Peter found himself turning towards the window he knew Tony would be standing behind, their eyes meeting every now and again. He counted himself lucky in those moments – for a few seconds, those golden eyes were stuck on him, looking at him.

After getting closed out for the night, Peter pocketed his tips, shed his apron, and stood outside the employee entrance for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but his time spent at Stevie’s would bring him one step closer to his ultimate goal, so it wouldn’t be too terrible. He made it out of the first day alive and even managed to impress both MJ and his boss. Sighing, Peter let his back rest against the wall, his tired eyes closing.

A heavy creek and the door opening brought him out of his silent reverie – he couldn’t recall how long he’d been standing there by the time he looked up. Much to his surprise, Mr. Brown Eyes himself stepped out, his long legs encased with a dark denim, his upper body still covered by the chef whites he’d been sporting earlier.

“Looks like you made it through the first night,” Tony said as nimble fingers worked at the buttons first at his collar, then down the length of his jacket. When the sides were pulled apart, Peter caught sight of a navy-blue V-neck shirt, the gap of it showing off just the right amount of dark chest hair to keep Peter’s eyes transfixed there. His breathing picked up, the same rush of heat from earlier trying to overtake him again.

“It wasn’t so bad. It seems like people are actually interested in the food we serve here, so they don’t really give much of a shit about me. As long as I don’t drop shit, I’m good.” Peter shot Tony a smile, the man’s own words sitting in the air between them. The tension in the air made his heart slam against his chest, Peter feeling slightly lightheaded in those seconds between speaking and Tony answering.

Instead of words, Peter was met with a solid laugh, the sound coming from Tony’s stomach and out of his mouth likely before he could stop it from happening. Peter watched a subtle blush bloom on Tony’s cheeks, his stubble not doing much in the way of hiding the red hue. If he wasn’t fucked before, he sure as hell was now.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? I like that about you, Peter Parker.” Tony snuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground before looking up again, his eyes shining. “Want to grab a drink?”

November 3rd, 2020

Instead of the dreamy haze from the day before, Peter spent most of his day riddled with stomach-churning nerves. It seemed like a good idea, when Tony’s voice was in his ear and his presence could be felt, to meet up for coffee at their old haunt. After a day of thinking about Tony non-stop, Peter could do nothing but accept the invitation. It’d been years since he stepped foot in Stevie’s – if nothing else, the nostalgia of the trip would be worth it. Yet, Peter couldn’t stop himself from hoping – what he was hoping for, he wasn’t sure, but hope sat in the pit of his stomach, nonetheless. It made the time drag on, his lessons for once not up to his usual standards.

It must’ve been that type of day for everyone, because no one questioned or even batted an eye at his abnormal behavior. His students were a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving vacation and the will to pay attention was lacking in pretty much everyone. Grateful for that fact, Peter snuck out a few minutes before the end of the day bell. His planning for the next day was completed and there wasn’t anything else to hold his attention – he hoped no one noticed his early departure.

Though, the second he walked out of school, he was instantly at a loss. They weren’t meeting until after Tony’s shift (which just so happened to be at his very own restaurant, Peter Googled it earlier that morning). That meant he had more than an hour to kill and not a lot to distract him from what felt like a momentous meeting. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them, so many memories that were so prominent – it was hard to separate the good from the bad – the forgettable, and those he didn’t ever want to forget.

For his own sanity, Peter put what happened between them before Tony left at the back of his mind. In the years since that day, Peter realized how childish his decision was – between not showing up and not thinking things through, there wasn’t much room for any other conclusion. The conscious thought of that didn’t take away the heartache he felt, however – Peter figured they both would be feeling a lot of that throughout the conversation they were about to have.

Left with the decision between fretting and heading back to his place for a quick spruce up, Peter drove the few miles between the school and the apartment he called home. He spent a lot of time in front of the mirror earlier that morning but knew a glance or two in his closet wouldn’t hurt the situation. He stripped out of his button up shirt and ran a washcloth across the skin of his upper arms, down across his chest, and along the length of his neck – it’d been unseasonably hot in his classroom.

Satisfied with his cleanliness, Peter walked into his meager closet, most of the clothes hanging in it ones that he purchased many years ago – there were lots of things in his life that felt like they were on pause, his wardrobe included. Sifting through them, Peter found himself smiling when he flipped by the hunter green Henley he squared away more than six years ago. The vivid way the color made Tony’s eyes stand out made his heart race – Peter still thought about those bourbon beauties on a pretty frequent basis.

Trying not to think too much of it, Peter pulled the shirt down from its hanger. Though some time past, Peter could swear the smell of Tony’s cologne still clung to the fabric. No matter how many times he ran it through the wash, the ghost of his former lover stuck around – the shirt like a tangible personification of Peter’s feelings over the years. Slipping it on felt like coming home in a way none of the other items in his closet could ever make him feel. That singular thought spoke volumes – though, Peter went out of his way to ignore the obvious. It was easier like that.

Finally satisfied with both his outfit and the time in which he had left to get to Stevie’s, Peter took a couple of deep breaths and one more quick glance in the mirror before heading back out to his car. The nerves from earlier seemed to be leveling out now that he took the time to pump himself up (being wrapped up in Tony’s shirt didn’t hurt, either). He made it through six years by himself, without the company of Tony – he could make it six more and then six more after that if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted them to after this little meeting.

With that in mind, Peter tried to decide what he actually wanted from his time with Tony – after all of these years, it seemed silly to walk into anything without at least thinking it through. More than anything, he wanted to step back into Tony’s arms like no time at all past; if they could pretend that the six years didn’t exist between then and now, he’d be perfectly alright with that. No matter how good of an idea Peter thought his decision was all that time ago, he knew that Tony, after being without him, brought something to his life that no one else could – he desperately tried to find it, but couldn’t, no matter how much effort he put in. It seemed a little outlandish, to think that their first interaction would be that magical, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping – Peter always tried to be optimistic when the situation called for it (and this one totally did).

Despite not having visited his old stomping grounds in years, Peter’s mind remembered the way like he still travelled there on a daily basis – like the route was engrained in his brain so deeply, he couldn’t ever forget. Which made sense, after a bit of thought – some of the best memories of his youth were based around his time at Stevie’s and the people he met there. If he let himself think about it too hard, a wave of sadness would hit him; that was the opposite effect he wanted from this interaction – he wanted this blast from the past to be a happy one.

The buffer of time he originally had dwindled down to nothing as he found a meter to park in front of and fed it a few quarters. His steps were impatient as he made his way back towards the white bricked building, the flashing sign still bright and alluring.

Each second he crept a little closer to the door, his hard beat harder and harder. With just a couple more strides left until he reached the entrance, Peter looked up and his breath caught – through the window he saw Tony Stark sitting in “their” booth, his hair a little longer and his goatee just a little bit more refined, big framed glasses sitting on his nose the only noticeably new addition.

It felt like getting knocked off his feet, seeing him again. Peter stopped, just for a second – he took a long gulp of oxygen before even thinking about opening the door. Like most memories, they all came flashing back – the place, the man, even the recognizable step he almost tripped on time and time again – each one a trigger for every precious second spent in this very place.

Before he could get swept away, Peter tightened his resolve and gripped the door handle.

September 2013 – October 2014

Though Peter was determined to make the most of the situation when he first started at Stevie’s, he quickly came to realize that everything he needed in that moment existed within the orbit of that café. The year he worked there so far, Peter made more friends, learned more about people, and met (who he hoped to be) the love of his life. Each piece of the tiny little puzzle of the Stevie’s community fit so well within his life that Peter couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was.

On top of the amazing job and the people surrounding it, Peter was quickly making his way through his master’s degree – he wanted to teach people the same way his professors were relaying information to him and was only a couple steps from doing exactly that. All of the fretting and worry from the start of his program dissipated after a booming fall semester that led straight into a scholarship to cover the remaining tuition problems. Now, he felt no pressure when he walked into Stevie’s – the job wasn’t a burden, but something he thoroughly enjoyed every time he walked through the door.

Of course, one of the main reasons his time within the walls of the all-day breakfast spot remained some of his favorites was the lovely man that so quickly swept him off his feet. After that first night where they talked about anything and everything tucked away in the corner of some no-name pub, he and Tony were pretty inseparable. For a while, he thought that he might exist in the friend-zone – and some of the pieces of him would’ve been okay with that. Yet, when his back hit the wall of the alleyway where everything started and Tony’s lips descended upon his own, Peter didn’t stop himself from feeling elated and relieved; there were so many wants and needs that included Tony not being “just” his friend.

Like most relationships do, the two of them settled into a comfortable sort of adventure that was both consistent and completely random at any given time. They worked the same shift, so it was easy for them to pick one of their apartments after work and head that way together. No matter where they were, Peter ended most of his days tangled up with the sheet stealer that Tony was. They didn’t need any awkward conversations to know that whatever time they could spend together, they were going to. In the most natural way, things fell into place and made Peter deliriously happy.

It seemed like nothing could touch them, either. Being so young and in love, Peter thought he finally found a place where he belonged. After so much time being the weird nerdy kid, or the new boy, Peter got to claim a spot in a pack – one that was handpicked and made so much sense – the group of them were almost too similar and too close to one another. Or so the people on the outside said, anyway.

When the changes did start to happen, Peter tried not to let them blindside him. It started out simply – Fred, their menacing head chef, quit after a particularly hard shift; two of the newer waiters were fired on the spot after dropping countless orders. He stormed out in a huff; his only words being thrown Tony’s way as he handed over the coveted black chef jacket Peter knew his boyfriend wanted more than pretty much anything else in the world. The adjustment seemed pretty flawless – Tony picked up a couple more hours here and there, but still managed to make the trek home with Peter every time they shared a shift.

Then, things started to pick up in the restaurant because of the exciting changes Tony made to the menu. Stevie’s went from being a place only packed on the weekends, to being packed at every major service time. They were so popular in their little corner of NYC that local news crews came around to do spots on the newest menu additions and the chef behind them. Those few extra hours Tony picked up turned into many more than a few. Being the loving and proud boyfriend that he was, Peter did his best to be supportive and not balk at their time together that seemed to dwindle more and more as the days past.

Luckily, Peter found some reprieve from the nagging worry of his personal life during the last semester of his graduate program – his student teaching sent him into the wilderness of Midtown High, a school known for its advanced programs and science specification. At the beginning, it felt like a good coping mechanism – if he wasn’t at home waiting around, he didn’t have to feel the small slices of resentment starting to creep into the tiniest cracks in his heart. As things progressed, Peter caught the bug and decided that the childish things he wanted just months before were things of the past.

Despite this, Tony seemed to be just as committed to the them they created throughout their time together. In a lot of ways, both of their careers booming at the same time felt like a good thing. Both got to work where their hearts drew them, but at the end of the day, they came home to each other. From his actions, Peter knew that was enough for Tony. They weren’t staying up all night drinking and talking about whatever struck their fancy – but they were together, soaking up the joys of life with the one person that seemed to understand the drive and need for those successes and happiness.

Which is why, a couple of weeks after celebrating their two-year anniversary, Tony looked at him with the biggest smile on his face. In their time together, Peter learned the many facial expressions of his gorgeous other half. For someone so reserved with their emotions, Tony said a lot with the slightest twitch of the muscles in his face. It took Peter a second to steady himself – even after two years of being together, the genuine nature of the look still tried to knock him on his ass. Young love was sweet and soothing, but there was something to be said for the transition into something more concrete, more stable.

“That’s your excited smile. What’s up, Tones?” Peter questioned; his eyes wide with the residual excitement that seemed to be floating around the room. His chest felt a little tight with it, apprehension and secondhand adrenaline tapping against all of his major organs like shoes on hardwood.

“I got a call from Chef Barton – the world-renowned culinary instructor in Paris. He had a spot open up in his breakfast kitchen and wants me to take it.” Tony stopped then, taking an excited breath before continuing. “I want me to take it, too. And most importantly – I want you to come with me.”

His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders then, the grip tight, Tony’s affection only increasing with the amount of excitement running through his veins. Being tucked into Tony’s chest gave Peter the opportunity to say nothing, which is exactly what he did. Instead, he forced his arms to wrap around Tony’s hips in hopes of returning the hug with at least half of the fervor Tony used to hold him. Peter tried to melt into the embrace – but his mind was racing. Paris? Now – when he finally felt like he was making the right steps towards actually being an adult? It seemed childish to just pick everything up and run across the country, no matter how much he loved Tony and the direction they were heading.

Keeping all of those thoughts to himself, Peter kept living his life with Tony – only ever getting quiet when they started to talk about their future plans – ones that, if Tony had his way, included the two of them skipping across the country, hand-in-hand, towards the unknown. Not wanting to deal with it head on, Peter avoided the topic, and everything that went with it, like the plague. He knew Tony could feel the hesitancy, but he never brought it up, so Peter didn’t either. Why disturb the peace when he could just ignore everything that would totally obliterate it?

Peter kept that attitude until the day before they were set to leave. Still on the fence about his decision, he half-heartedly packed a bag. In the weeks leading up to their departure, Tony sent most of his own stuff ahead to the small apartment waiting for them to arrive. In his infernal need to give Peter his space and independence, Tony figured Peter would get what he needed there some way or another. It didn’t even cross his mind, Peter figured, the thought that he wouldn’t be coming with him. The lack of communication and unwillingness to step on the fine sheen of ice between them hindering any sort of progress, or reassurance that they both needed.

Like most of his life, Peter listened to his brain instead of his heart – instead of meeting Tony at the airport, he holed himself away in MJ’s apartment, despite her own qualms against it, which she voiced loudly for most of the night as his phone rang with calls, and then chimed with text after text.

It was several hours after Peter knew Tony would be in the air that he finally let himself look at all the text messages sent his way. They ranged from distraught to upset to infuriated, and then resolved. There were so many of them to sort through, but the last one was the one to really catch his eye.

Tony Stark [8/13/2014 9:53PM]: It’s okay, Pete. I get it. Just let me know that you’re alright.

According to the timestamp, Tony sent that last one a couple minutes after their flight was supposed to take off. While in the air, putting distance between them after being ruthlessly stood up, Tony was still genuinely worried about his well-being. Piles of regret deposited themselves on the expanse of his chest – the repercussions of his decision hitting him with a fervor Peter didn’t know existed. He claimed to love Tony with all of his heart but let something like fear and a lack of communication strip that all away from him. Whatever happened, he needed to own it and deal with the fall out.

Peter Parker [8/14/2014 2:00AM]: I’m sorry – I’m okay, but I just couldn’t.

Surprisingly, Peter wasn’t bombarded with calls or texts the next day, or even the next. He figured that Tony would be calling like crazy the second he touched down in Paris – yet, Peter didn’t hear a thing. After looking at his quiet phone with distaste for two full weeks, Peter pulled up Tony’s contact information with the intention of calling him, instead. His thumb hovered over the call button more than a few times over the following few days, but no matter how much he wanted to, Peter couldn’t bring himself to do it. Like ripping a band aid, maybe the breaking would be quickest with one tough yank. From the lack of calls his way, Tony must’ve figured the same thing.

Tinged with unexplainable pain, Peter made his way through the next few days, and then the next few weeks – before he knew it, it was October. He finished up his degree during the summer and once he managed to pick himself up off the floor, applied to several of the local high schools. In a strike of luck, Midtown was so stoked about his performance during his internship, they offered him a job outright – without an interview or anything of the sort. In the matter of what felt like a second, Peter went from a loved individual with a spice for life to a high school teacher, who’s only joys came in the form of a new flavored coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

It worked. It gave him stability and adulthood. Happiness would come back – he hoped, anyway.

November 3rd, 2020

It was dizzying, having Tony’s attention focused on him again. The glasses were a welcome addition to Tony’s stupidly attractive face. They magnified the color of his eyes and gave off an air of maturity – though, the AC/DC shirt that clung to his chest counteracted that a little bit. Shrugging that thought off, Peter forced himself to forget about that debilitating mindset. It already cost him Tony once – the least he could do for himself was stop it from happening a second time.

When he first walked in, Peter was surprised to see that not a lot changed over the years – there were a few new art pieces on the wall, but the bare bones were the same. Even the menus Peter spent countless hours passing out and cleaning looked exactly the same. It felt like both a blessing and a curse, being in a place that seemed so familiar and yet entirely too foreign all at the same time. As he got further into the restaurant, Peter waited for the second that Tony caught sight of him – and was not disappointed a single bit. A reserved smile slipped across the other man’s face, the slightest bit of wrinkle by his eyes the only physical mark of their time spent apart.

Peter didn’t expect the hug that was placed upon him, but before he could even think about it, Tony’s arms were around him – his grip the same tightness he held Peter’s body with during their time together. It made his heart ache; how much he missed such a simple touch – and how easily he let go of it. Ignoring how pathetic he should’ve felt, Peter returned the embrace, his own arms tightening around Tony’s as if this were his only opportunity.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Peter heard Tony say, the whiskered lips mere millimeters from the shell of his ear as he did. “It’s good to see you, Pete.”

Unable to do anything else, Peter tucked his face a little further into Tony’s neck, his nostrils expanding with the long breath he pulled into his chest. Though the underlying smell of Dove for Men wasn’t there anymore, Peter could recognize that cologne anywhere. The olfactory association of the scent brought him to so many places all at once, each one reminding him of all the good memories and wasted time in between then and now.

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe you’re here. That you wanted to see me. Hell, that you look so damn good,” Peter said in reply as he finally tore himself away. His hands shifted to take hold of Tony’s biceps, his grip still firm, still clinging in a way that spoke of hope – hope that, when all was said and done, Tony wouldn’t walk away.

After getting his shit together, Peter took the seat next to Tony at the table – his chair a little closer than normal proximity usually called for. If Tony minded, he didn’t mention it; the man was so cool, he sipped at his warm coffee without a second of hesitation, despite the billowing steam rushing from the top.

Using the ruse of settling in, Peter took a minute to really take Tony in. His hands were still insanely sexy, fingers long and tan like the rest of him – his skin riddled with a few more nicks and cuts than before, but that was to be expected. His t-shirt fit him tightly, the sleeves highlighting the benefits of manual labor that running a kitchen called for. His coveted chef whites were hanging over the back of his chair, the crisp Stark’s on the right lapel bringing a smile to his face.

“You look amazing, Tony. Like time didn’t touch you at all.”

Tony turned towards him then, his fingers abandoning their hold on the coffee cup in front of him. “Nice of you to say. It feels like it has. Sometimes, it feels like 20 years past, instead of just 6.”

Reaching out, Peter let the tips of his fingers rest against the back of Tony’s hand, his pinky finger finding the same scar he obsessively touched whenever they held hands all that time ago. The caress pulled a shiver from them both, hazel met brown for a long second before Tony blinked and looked away.

“I thought it was just me that felt like that.”

Their conversations hit a pause after that, both of them soaking in the situation while the waitress came to take Peter’s order – his customary order of French toast and espresso rolling off his tongue before he even needed to think about it.

“It’s nice to know some things don’t ever change.” Tony looked at him, a hesitant smile on his face. “Do you still slather it in peanut butter?”

“Is it even French toast without it?”

The comment made Tony light up, his eyes twinkling with amusement, a laugh leaving his lips. “No, I guess it’s not.”

Laughter sat between them for a few minutes – their waitress came with food and coffee for Peter, her eyes lingering on them longer than necessary until her glance moved across the wall to where the old crew photos were hanging. “I knew I recognized you two. Stevie still talks about your crew like it hasn’t been years since you were last working here.” She gave them both a smile, left behind utensils, and turned away – a new sort of pep in her step.

“Do you even think about it?” Peter asked, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the photos, like he didn’t just ask the most complex question to ever exist. “Those times, I mean.”

Tony took another long pull of his coffee before answering, the seconds between his lips wrapping around the cup and his eyes meeting Peter’s feeling like days. He caught himself holding his breath, his subconscious tensing up for whatever blow that might come his way.

“Every day.” Tony finally answered, his tone of voice serious, the look he gave Peter whimsical. “I can’t remember a time in the last 6 years when I wasn’t thinking about this place, this city – you.”

Like magnets, their hands were drawn together – Tony let the back of his rest against the table, Peter slipping his own against it so they were palm to palm, fingers interlaced.

“Tell me how you lived without it. Did somebody change your world?”

Tony looked at him then, his eyes wide with questions, with the need to have answers to them without having to voice them, or even put them into the universe to be heard. His fingers tightened around Peter’s; their palms now pressed fully together. The contact was almost too much for the moment, their closeness on the border of being suffocating when that sort of demand sat on the table.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter squared his shoulders, his own fingers gripping Tony’s in a small attempt at reassurance. “It was never anything like that. Someone or something else. When you told me about Paris, all I could hear was my aunt’s voice telling me that I wasn’t going to be a kid forever. That one day I’d need to grow up and, in that moment, it was too loud – too loud to ignore or fight against. I didn’t see past anything after that.”

“But didn’t that make you sad? Thinking that we’ll never be kids again? Letting something like that make all of your decisions?” Tony tilted his head to the side, eyes not leaving Peter’s for a second.

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, the words shooting from his mouth. “I came to realize, not long after I let you go, that growing up didn’t change who I was, or what I wanted. Being with you, the feeling of child-like wonder would never go away. We were moving towards what I wanted without me even realizing it. That’s the thing that made me sad the most – knowing how silly I’d been, thinking I’d want anything other than that feeling of never coming down.”

By the time he finished talking, there were tears in his eyes – the big drops there threatening to fall with every blink. He felt warm everywhere, like if he let go of anything – Tony’s hand, the way he felt, the pent-up guilt residing within him – he just might explode.

Knowing him as well as he did, even after years of distance between them, Tony pushed his chair away from the table and closed the space between them, his arms wrapping around Peter in a bone crushing hug. The time between their past and their present narrowing down to nothing with their embrace.

“It’s okay, Pete. I got it then and I get it now. I thought about you every day, not because I was mad or hurt, but because I knew – even with so much time and space between us – that you were worth every moment, every thought, every second of pining I couldn’t stop myself from doing. Paris was great – but it wasn’t where I needed to be. No matter how hard I tried to make it home.”

Each word drove him a little closer to the edge and when Tony’s warmth finally seeped deep into his core, Peter was unable to hold himself together. Tears streamed down his face, each one trekking to his chin, only to fall down the length of his neck to stain the collar of his shirt. He clung to Tony with all that he was worth – his perception of the restaurant around him narrowing down to nothing but their booth, their connection, their skin brushing in the most intimate of ways.

When there weren’t any more tears left to cry, Peter shifted slightly, his nose brushing against Tony’s cheek with the movement. Instead of shying away like he had every right to do, Tony leaned into the caress – his cheek warm to the touch. “It’s okay, Pete. It’s okay. I missed you, too.”

There wasn’t much productivity after that. Peter pulled away completely, only to remember that he was in a public place and just had a very real, very vulnerable melt down in front of a lot of random people. His cheeks colored for a moment, but Tony was there to sooth him, his work roughened hand grasping Peter’s without hesitation. They shared a tentative smile – the light in Tony’s eyes something Peter wasn’t sure he remembered being so goddamn vivid.

They finished up pretty quickly, Peter’s embarrassment still sitting in the forefront of his mind, despite the quiet support from Tony’s presence. He laid a couple of twenties on the table, waving Tony away when he tried to add his own money.

“I cried on your shoulder – let me buy you some breakfast.”

With a laugh, Tony nodded and walked towards the door, his eyes tracking Peter’s movement as he got himself together once more – it was almost like Tony was afraid he’d disappear if he looked away, even for a second.

Out on the sidewalk, Peter started walking towards his car when Tony’s arm shot out, his fingers gripping firm biceps. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you. I can’t go another six years.” As he spoke, Tony loosened his fingers, letting his hand rest on Peter’s hip, instead. “Please tell me I can see you again.”

Despite his hopes and the smallest bit of expectation Peter couldn’t help himself from feeling, he wasn’t expecting anything like this – an invitation for something further. Turning until he could wrap his arms around Tony’s shoulders, Peter leaned in until their foreheads were resting against each other’s, breaths shared between them. He felt Tony’s nose brush against his before their lips met in the smallest hint of a kiss -

“Any time you want, Tony. I’m not going anywhere. Never, ever, ever again.”

#starker #bobbie writes #do you even think about it #kids again #peter parker/tony stark #sometimes i write shit #nobetterlove

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clairecolemanoriginals · 3 years ago

Text

Prologue

Rain pelted hard against the windowpane, melding with the sound of gunfire. A battle raged on the doorsteps of the small town. The women were forced to stay behind, as usual, to tend to the children while their sons, husbands, and fathers fought for their homes. Screams of the wounded could be heard on the wind haunted the worried. For days, the women sat in their homes with the crying children waiting for silence to come. All she could do was stand there and look out the window at the chaos that insured. Even as she waited for silence, she dreaded it. There was no way to tell which side was winning, to her, all dying men sound the same.

A loud crack echoed in the winds of the storm startling the dreamer awake.

Yellow streetlights shone through the translucent curtains. The pale lighting proved enough light to see around the room. Clothes, video games, and junk food packages littered the floor. On the bed, two figures could be seen. The first a young man, dead asleep the sheets pooled around his narrow hips. The other was a young woman who eyed the room wide-eyed, the sheets clutched tightly to her chest. A thin layer of sweat glistened on her skin in the mood light and her heavy breathes broke the silence.

She sighed heavily; another night went to waste with the consumption of alcohol.

Dessera barely remembered where she was or who she was with for that matter, but the pounding in her head suggested that she wasn't at her apartment like she had hoped. Swinging her feet off the side of the bed and glanced around the room. What she saw disgusted her. At the center of the room was a gaming chair with open packages of all types of food. A soda bottle lay on its side, its contents having been spilled on the floor and never taken care of. The urge to puke washed over her at the sight and she took a deep breath as she looked for her clothes. She quickly found her discarded clothing next to the bed where the man had tossed them, and she pulled them over her body. The tight dress was a nuisance as she danced around trying to get the zipper up her back. As she stumbled around, she stepped on an empty package of chips and she froze at the sound. She glanced over her shoulder at the man on the bed, scared she had brought him out of his sleep but to her relief he simply shifted around in his sleep to hug his pillow.

"Typical." She muttered as she searched around his room for her clutch. She found it slightly tucked under the bed next to her thigh holster. Her eyes widened, remembering that she had been carrying. A cloudy memory crossed her mind of the man seeing the gun on her inner thing and calling her a badass. He had been way too drunk to even care about the fact that she'd had a rather small 9mm strapped to her throughout the night. She strapped the gun back to her leg, this time with the weapon on the outside and her dress over the top of it, not caring if it was covered or not.

She left the house as silently as she could, being careful to lock the bottom handle before she left to be courteous. Just like her dream, the weather seemed to be unforgiving in its downpour on her. Not that she minded. She loved the rain, preferred it to the hot days of summer. She did not like to be too warm and it was easier to layer up than cool down. Before she stepped off the porch, she checked her phone for the time and saw that it was three in the morning. And that she had 18 missed calls, 30 unread text messages, 3 voicemails. Panic bubbled in her chest as she brought the phone to her ear to listen to the message.

'Serra! I need help. I just got done with a hunt but I'm severely injured. Your place is the closest. I am headed there now, hopefully, I don't bleed out before you get this. Hurry! Please!' The answering box beeped and asked her what she wanted to do with the message, and she starred at the phone. The message had come through over thirty minutes ago and it was quite possible she was too late.

"Fuck!" She exclaimed. A chill ran through her body and she desperately wished she had a coat, but she couldn't think of that. Her little sister was very possibly bleeding out on her porch, and she needed to get to her as soon as possible. Luckily, there wouldn't be anyone on the roads at this time of the day and no one to question why she was running through the street.

As she ran, her heels dangling from her fingertips, she thought about where she was. Looking at all the signs she passed her foggy brain was able to tell her she was not too far from her apartment and her sister whom she hoped was still alive. She smelled like the guy she had woken up next to and it was suffocating her. Her friends had convinced her to go to the club last night and she had gotten very drunk on scotch. She danced the night away, and some of the mornings, the rest was a blur in her mind. She knew exactly what had happened after her fourth round. Her flirtation skills must have come out because she vaguely remembered catching the eye of some other highly intoxicated guy in glasses. He had been attractive, so she went for it. Next thing she knew she was waking up in a dark room from an extremely weird dream. Just a typical Sunday morning for her.

A loud honk brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see a very expensive looking car inches from her legs. She looked around and realized she had run into the middle of an intersection in her haze. Stumbling out of the way, she yelled her apology and continued on her way. The pounding in her head still had not ceased and it was beginning to make her nauseous. "Fuck this hangover." She grumbled to herself shielding her eyes as the car she had almost run into pulled up in front of her.

"Miss?" A car door slammed, followed by the opening of an umbrella, and she stopped her feet where they were. "Miss? Are you alright?"

"Stop. Stop right there." Before the man could get any closer to her, she brandished her heels at him threateningly. All her running had tossed everything in her stomach and while she had been ignoring nausea for the last 5 minutes, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Without hesitation, she leaned over and, let the contents of her stomach hit the pavement. The man stopped where he was and held up his empty hand to show her, he meant no harm. She stood straight, eyes squinting as she wiped her mouth with her free hand and eyed him up and down looking for any signs of a supernatural being.

"Um... are you ok?" He asked her, tentatively taking a step closer. She lowered her 'weapon' after a moment, satisfied that he wasn't anything dangerous, and nodded. She met him in the middle and dropped her hand to her side, letting her heels dangle again.

"I apologize. I'm a hunter and not feeling the best. Can't be too careful." She stated in a rush and looked up at the man.

"That's alright, but is it normal for you to hold someone at heel point at 3 in the morning? Especially since you have a gun on your hip?" He inquired amused. She took a moment to really take a look at him and she realized that he was in a suit and tie. His features were hard to see in the low-lit street but assumed he had a mischievous look on his face from his tone of voice. She could see that he had dirty blonde hair, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes.

"What can I say, strangers bring out the best in me and I wouldn't need my gun to take you down" She finally answered.

Surprised by her blunt response he asked "Well, are you ok? Would you like a ride?"

"No, I'm alright. My home is close to here, I can walk just fine. Thank you for your concern." She gave him a small smile and made to go around him. A gentle hand shot out and caught her by the arm, stopping her. She looked up at him with wide eyes, a small flicker of fear started to grow in the pit of her stomach. Just because he was in a suit and showed no supernatural signs didn't mean he wasn't a threat. However, he knew she had a gun and that she was a hunter. He would be stupid to try anything. She let her fear simmer back down and turned it into a cautious awareness.

"Are you sure? You seem upset. I promise I mean well and you clearly can handle yourself." He was trying to look her in the eyes, but something told her he could see right through her attempts to hide her miserable state of mind. She was annoyed with herself for getting into the situation that had led to this. She knew better. On top of which her so-called "friends" had left her there.

"I live a ten-minute walk from here. I'll be alright." Her reply seemed to be lost in the pouring rain, but his ears seemed to pick up on her words.

"It's pouring and you're soaked. Allow me to get you to some heat before you get sick." His grip on her arm tightened for a second before falling to his side. She looked him dead in the eyes. There was no lie in his eyes, and she could tell by the tone of his voice that he held no ill will towards her.

"Alright. But if you pull any funny business, I will use my gun." She threatened, pointing at him with one hand and patting her gun with the other.

"I believe you." The man chuckled, seemingly unfazed but her threat. With a nod, she allowed him to help her into the car. He turned the heater up the moment he got in and she eagerly placed her hands against the vent. She was still on her guard but with her gun on her thigh, she figured she would probably be alright with this man.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. Do you mind me asking why you seem so upset that you run into the street?" He asked her as he set off in the direction she pointed to. She glanced over at him, wondering how the man didn't question why she was barely dressed and out so early this morning. He glanced at her, a look of pure innocence on his face and she raised an eyebrow at him in suspicion. Does this man live under a rock? She thought to herself before she responded.

"I...went home with a man earlier this evening and decided not to stay the night." She told him as she stared out the window, completely missing the knowing smile on his face. This was all the information she was comfortable sharing with him. They lapsed into silence aside from the directions she gave him.

In reality, the car ride was only maybe three minutes long, but it felt like an eternity. She had her hand on her weapon the entire time as a precaution, but he made no move towards her. As they pulled into the apartment complex, she directed him in the opposite direction of her apartment. There was no way she was going to let him see which apartment she was in, especially since her sister was there injured. He pulled into a vacant spot and she turned taking the seatbelt off. He put the car in park and looked over at her.

"Thank you for the ride." She said as she put her hand on the door handle.

"Of course. I assume you would like me to leave the parking lot before you go to your apartment." He stated and she laughed. That is exactly what she had planned on asking him.

"How did you know?" She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Lucky guess. Here," He reached behind him into the backseat and grabbed the umbrella he had placed on the floor. "take this. No need to get any more soaked than you already are."

"...thank you." This time she was shocked by his genuine kindness and took the umbrella from him. She smiled and opened the door. As she stepped out of the car, she opened the umbrella and held it over her head. Before the man could say anything more to her or ask her name, she gently closed the door and made her way over to the walkway. He gave her a small nod and a smile before he turned around and pulled out of the spot. As he turned back around to face her again, she saw a flash of dark hair and horns and a chill ran down her spine. The moment she registered what she had seen though it was gone, and the handsome young man's face was back smiling at her. He waved goodbye at her and she stiffly waved back.

Was she just seeing things or had that man been a demon?

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