#thinkin ab when it happened n they told me it was just a dream n to close my eyes again

[ur-ghostgirl]

i just think itd b cool to wake up to someone shushing me n telling me to go back to sleep while they fuck me ://

[beautifulblhell]

One Last Time

A/N: Just some Atsumu angst bc I’m in the ‘mood’ lol 😭

WC: 1420

Tags: Angst, timeskip Atsumu

A special thanks to @bigbrain-nothoughts for helping me proofread this!!🥺🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much!!!💕

The soft moonlight streamed through your window, a cool, gentle light that illuminated Atsumu’s features. A thin sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies, and under the silver light, it made Atsumu seem like he was glowing. He was leaning over you, giving you a brief moment of reprieve after the crashing pleasure you both felt moments ago. Your limbs were still tangled together, and the sound of your heavy breathing filled the quiet room.

Lifting your hand, your fingers strayed through his bleach blond hair. It was much longer than when you last saw him.

But of course, it has been a year.

“Like what you see?” Atsumu teased you when he saw you catch sight of his toned abs.

Atsumu gently brushed back a lock of your hair from your forehead, eyes softening unknowingly at your hesitant gaze.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” A hint of concern coloured his tone. Atsumu was never one for moments of silence - at least, not with you.

It was quick, you made sure of it, to commit every part of him

His eyes, those bewitching brown eyes that had you spellbound the moment you first gazed into them, were now gazing adoringly at you, and for a moment, the words that you’ve been keeping locked in your heart all these years nearly tumbled out of your mouth.

But you swallowed them back at the last second. Hiding behind a playful smile, you teased back, “Do you need a longer break?”

A laugh rumbled from his chest, a sound which you loved to hear, but at the same time brought a dull ache inside your chest. Suddenly, you arched your back and a inhaled sharp intake of breath.

“And you were saying?” Atsumu grinned, he languidly moved his hand, watching the way you unravelled before him.

“Atsumu,” you called out his name, desperation weaved into your voice. And the same desperation was mirrored in Atsumu’s movement.

Because both of you knew the time you had together now was precious.

Your name spilled from his lips in a low groan. He lifted your leg on his broad shoulders. His lips left a burning trail along your thighs, hot enough to melt your current worries away.

For now.

Your eyes caught sight of your alarm clock at your bedside table, the little blue light displayed the flashing figures: 03:30AM.

If only the night would go on forever.

**********

07:02am

You opened your eyes. To your dismay but also utter expectations, the other side of your bed was empty, cold to the touch, not a single sliver of warmth remained.

Again.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Still, you held onto the small flame of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would stay.

“Stay with me.”

The words you could never say to Atsumu. Because it would be a shackle binding him to you, and you knew you couldn’t. Not for the sake of his career. And you’ve seen how hard he worked to get to where he is now. But a part of you still wanted him to stay, at least long enough for him to be there when you wake up.

Tear drops trickled silently onto the duvet. The scent of Atsumu faintly lingered on these very sheets — the only reminder of last night, but all too soon, even that will be gone, leaving only a ghost of him in your memories.

******

One last time.

That’s what Atsumu always told himself when he came knocking on your door at 2am, you were still bleary with sleep when he swoops in and kisses you with urgency, like a parched man on the desert finally finding an oasis. And everything would seem alright as he whispered sweet nothings into your lips and skin.

Sweet, empty promises that would never ring true once dawn broke. Then he would be gone. And when he would be back neither of you knew.

He tried his best, really, but the daily phone calls and text messages dwindled drastically once he began travelling out of the country for his games. He was well aware of your hesitance to contact him, fearing that you were getting in his way. Some nights he would stare at his phone screen, wondering if he should call you, but in the end, he never did.

He knew he could never give you the stable life you wanted, a husband that would come home on time every day, without getting the silent treatment for months before turning up on your doorstep suddenly.

But all that rationality was gone when he tasted your lips, and the feeling of your warmth.

One last time.

That’s what Atsumu always told himself.

The seasons swayed. Winter melted into spring, spring flowed into summer; the passage of time never waited.

When Atsumu finally came back to Japan, it had been more than two years.

A slight drizzle greeted him, and Atsumu used that as the excuse for the fast pace he was walking towards your house.

A hint of autumn lingered in the air. Time has chipped away fragments of familiar sceneries, but the familiar road leading to your house stayed the same. By the time he turned onto your street, he was nearly sprinting.

The familiar sight of your door brought a wave of nostalgia and comfort to Atsumu. Even if everything else changed, as long as you were here, it didn’t matter. Knocking on your door, Atsumu unconsciously swept his hair back, hoping the rain didn’t make his hair drizzle too much.

The door opened.

For a moment, the air stilled. The sound of rain hitting the pavement blurred out everything for Atsumu. The box of chocolates tumbled from his hands.

There you were, as beautiful as always, except…

Atsumu couldn’t breathe, as if a frost had descended upon his lungs and froze them.

You were holding a small toddler.

Atsumu knew immediately the child was yours. Those almond shaped eyes and nose.

You stared back, eyes wide.

“Tsumu,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but Atsumu couldn’t answer. A pain, as if physical, twisted against his heart, decapitating him of his words and movement, forcing him to stay frozen, unable to move forward nor backwards.

Someone called your name. A man appeared from inside with a concerned look. He placed a hand on your shoulders. Atsumu’s gaze landed on the silver ring on his ring finger, matching the one on your hand.

Move, Atsumu screamed internally at himself. Finally, his legs obeyed. Stumbling, before regaining control of his limbs, Atsumu turned to run, run back in time if he could. He vaguely heard you calling his name, but he ran blindly down the streets.

He ran until he couldn’t anymore, until his lungs were burning, but still, it didn’t make the pain in his chest lessen. If only he could outrun time, and wake up with you by his side once again. His pained pants were barely heard as the rain above him poured down. Atsumu tilted his face towards the suffocating grey sky. Droplets of rain fell unceasingly on his eyelashes, quivering, before falling, trailing down his cheeks. As if the heavens were crying the tears in his heart.

If only this rain would wash away the reason why he could never let you go that’s burning so strongly in his heart.

That’s when he realized.

The reason why he came back to you time after time.

The reason why he could never leave you.

Ah…

Because…

You were his ‘home’.

A torrent of memories crashed through him, nearly drowning him. Memories of you watching late night movies together, your hand running through his hair as he laid in your lap, the aroma of his favourite meals wafting from the kitchen, along with the scenes of the future he once dreamed of having with you.

The one person who he could always come back to, the one person whom he loved more than anyone.

He always thought he could tell you tomorrow, as you had forever ahead of you, but the tomorrow will never come. Because he has lost you forever.

*********

Soft golden brown eyes, ones that mirrored the man that just left, lingered at the closed door before peering at your contorted face.

‘It was better this way’, a phrase you’ve grown accustomed to telling yourself on days where that small flame of hope flickers in the depths of your heart.

It was better this way.

Then, you locked your door.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | 2021.06.20