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asherthehimbo · 1 year ago

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Outliving the stars | Choi San

synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.

Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader

Info: one shot, words(2.1K),

Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives

Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage

It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.

Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.

"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"

Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"

You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.

You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.

You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.

Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.

But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.

You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.

You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.

You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.

You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.

He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.

You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.

Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.

"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"

You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.

You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.

The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.

That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing

Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.

Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.

It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.

It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.

He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.

San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.

San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.

He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.

Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.

He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?

That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.

That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.

It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.

"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"

You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.

You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.

That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.

You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @itsvxlentine @liyatime @hetalia-pol @mommahwa1117

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littlebitshylittlebitangry · 9 months ago

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Hi, hi it’s me again… your writing was very good, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Now you must be responsible for the consequences…. Which is listening to me ramble.

Anyways, first off small doodle!

This is what I imagine bound arcane egg looks like, and something I didn't explain, my b. Is when arcane egg gets taken to be the “heart” of the hungry ones, it’s basically an in between plane of existence. It’s between the normal world and where the hungry ones reside.

Secondly this is one of two times arcane egg goes to this inbetween, and that second time is more triumphant and it’s where her light of defiance reignites!

Anyways no more exposition, time to talk about some new stuff mainly the aftermath after arcane eggs desperate pleas for death!

Note I do imagine her pleas at that moment go from sad and desperate to manic and desperate, since at this point of the story it’s a nice contrast to how well and collected they’ve appeared so far.

But yeah when they wake up… boi it’s so sad. When they awake their very comatose and quite, very similar to how they were when they came back to life after their death by the hungry ones. I imagine that shadow milk and golden butter are waiting her them to wake up, which arcane egg can’t fathom why but, what ever.

If you haven’t noticed arcane eggs response to their own emotions and emotional problems is to ignore, belittle, or don’t think about it. Which is in sharp contrast on who they USED to be, which was open and tbh the therapist / listener friend. But also they were honest about their feelings, so arcane egg after that display of pure raw emotion acting so… empty greatly upsets her friends.

They’ll try to get an answer but they’ll just get a chill and numb cookie in response, I do imagine they get her to talk at some point after pleading and asking persistently for a while. And it would most likely begin with arcane egg breaking down sobbing and they’ll also shake like a leaf.

Than afterwards if the two ask questions and prod for specifics, she start answering and probably tell the, how she got to this point / her history thus far. She’ll tell them that they’ve died before, that their now both alive but technically an undead thing,… that they thought about taking their own life during the dark flour war.

They wont tell about their complicated feelings about the two of them yet, no not yet. But she will spill how she feels about themselves which is again bad!

How would the two react, o honest don’t know I’ll need to think about it more. Do you have any ideas? You did a good job last time so. Anyways thanks for listening have a good day :D.

(Also tell me if you want me to post ideas to you here or on your side blog!)

Took me awhile to get back to this post-

Anyways, had to do some searching (thanks for the notes.) Ended up being four pages long-

Honestly for some reason this gives me ‘nowhere king’ vibes.

Now, Warnings; implied masscure, war crimes, sucidial thoughts, dissacation.

She blinks awake- her body is heavy and it's hard to move. She feels a hand carding through her hair, for a moment she struggles to move her head, but she does. She mentally feels the want for her shoulders to tense up- but they don’t. Yet Mystic Flour doesn’t stop carding her hands through her hair. For a minute they could almost swear her eyes opened, but she didn't say a word. Carefully moving their head around, she blinks yet again.

The room wasn’t overly big by any means, but it was a decent size. Arcane could spot Silent salt staring out the window, Burning spice was oddly calm as he rubbed his axe. Shifting her focus to the other half- she found Eternal sugar half sitting on a chair, half resting her head in her arms on the bed. Its then she spotted by a table that looked like it was dragged over that Shadow Milk was writing something onto the desk- he looked oddly frustrated. It was… It was an old memory. He’d often be over desks like that when he hit a wall with whatever he was researching or when he was lacking the creativity on his newest project.

For a moment she puzzled over where Golden Butter was, until the door opened. The very person who they thought about walked in with a bag over to Shadow Milk, They closed their eyes as they felt Golden Butters gaze on them. The other sighs, “...Shadow… how is progress?” Shadow Milk seems to growl, “It's honestly worse than I thought! Those Damn witches that sealed us are the reason those fucking thing even exist! And that means they are the main issue on why Arcane is like this!” They can hear a fist slam onto the table, its silent for a moment, before Silent salts' rarely heard voice comes through, “....The witches did this? To her?” They don’t know what Shadow does but they hear the screeching of the chair and his words, “YES! They did! They fucked up Arcane so badly that I’m not even completely sure there is a way to undo it!”

Mystic Flours hand pauses, she hears the other speaks, “.... Shadow Milk….are you… are you sure?” They don’t exactly hear much other then shuffling for the next few moments before an audible sigh, “..I can’t be completely sure at least now.” His tone turns resigned, slightly saddened with a hint of frustration, “If only I had my labs, the tower and…” Her heart drops, she knows just who he was going to say.

Fortune Cookie, his closest pupil.

Fortune Cookie had a bright future ahead of them. At Least until Shadow Milk destroyed his own tower. It was of very little doubt that Fortune cookie was a casualty in that event. Fortune Cookie, she thinks, had a brain even Shadow Milk sometimes struggled with. ‘Boundless creativity filled with sky high genius’ Shadow Milk once put it as. Fortune Cookie who he likely killed.

This hadn’t been the first time he’d regretted it.

She allows her eyes to open, everyone is still in the room just different. Eternal sugar, for once, is awake, and is blankly staring at them, Silent Salt has moved away from his window position, Burning spice had set his axe down and was gripping onto his hair with a fierce look on his face. She couldn’t see Mystic Flour from this view, but she could see Shadow Milk back as Golden Butter looked over him.

He was half hunched over and he was shaking.

Part of them wanted to reassure him it would all work out, but wasn’t that hopeless?

There wasn’t a cure and one person who had the most research on the hungry ones is dead, anything she did note was likely destroyed. It was hopeless.

It threw everyone off the moment they spoke, “It's been a hopeless situation from the start. It would do you all better to just kill me now.” The air in the room became strained just at her words. Shadow Milk straightens up, brushes off Golden Butters Hand and immediately turns around and walks over very calmly. He pushes his hands on the side of the bed and looks directly at her, “We won’t, we’ll find a cure. There isn’t another option.”

She blinks at him, “..You just said it yourself...you don’t know if there is a way to undo it… There isn’t a cure coming.” She shakes her head, “It would be the best choice- the hungry ones would be gone.” Shadow Milk shakes- not in a silent fear or overwhelming sorrow, but in a very poorly suppressed rage. “It doesn’t matter what I just said, I will find a cure.”

Arcane egg stares at him as she speaks, “....Fortune cookie was the only one who had-” He slams his hands on the bed as he shouts, “I’ll bring back the fucking dead if I have to! I’ll face whatever goddamn consequences that come my way!” He sags, “I’ll face Fortune cookie if it means I can help you.” He looks resigned, “I’ll search every single book the witches saved, I’ll tear down kingdom after kingdom and build them back up, If I need to I’ll start a new a tower just to figure out a fucking cure, I’ll let that stupid half-a-cookie replacement of mine keep my damn soul Jam!” The rage slowly wears off, replaced by desperation, “Please- just don’t- never ask me- never ask any of us- I don’t think.” Tears well and fall off his face like the sword of damocles falling, “I don’t think we could take it.”

Something in them hurts, so very deeply hurts in a twisted sense that its like having a vine shoved right into your heart before twisting and growing. Something grabs their left hand, looking over Silent Salt, it seemed he was the one who grabbed it. Burning spice had dragged a chair over and was sitting with the backside facing her as he sat facing her. Eternal Sugar has shifted from her place and is now sitting at the edge of the bed as Shadow Milk and Golden Butter stick to her right. She can spot Mystic Flours dress off the side- likely sitting by the pillows on their left side.

They had all moved to gather closer than previously. The next words flowed out her to easily as she looked at them. She- she doesn’t know what to think.

(She lost count after thousands of years, after watching hundreds of cookies crumble from age. Yet things linger in her memories.)

(Afterall the hungry ones have been with her for almost the same amount-- and it hurts holding them- it hurts in a sense that she can’t quite let go.)

(Everyone left in one way or another and she was left behind, Fortune died, her friends left her behind- and even when she grew close to people they disappeared. She doesn’t have anything- her friends are here now, yes. But they left so long ago- they told her not to come looking for them and-)

(- and they fell.)

Everything- Just feels so overwhelming. This isn’t the first time- something just- they feel so wrong today. They woken up for days with the group here for a number of days- some of them are normally out.

(Burning spice came back once with strawberry jam covering him, Mystic flour and Eternal Sugar just stared him down until he left. They don’t remember much of the few days after that- their head was just buzzing. She noticed the more… careful and hesitant natures when they wake up. All weapons, she noted, were always kept out of sight most times. No one ever came in the room without knocking unless they were ‘cleaned’ as Mystic Flour put it.)

Part of them just- there wasn’t an exact way to put it into words.

(“We have been silent for so long, haven’t we?”)

(“How long must you remain to let your defiance be stamped out?”)

(“Listen to me- to yourself. Defy this fate- fight against it, do not let yourself fall.”)

(“Please- just fight off for a little more. To defy in this moment, allow yourself to be helped.”)

Its quite- a mere echo in her head- but something. Something in her breaks.

Tears, she notes almost mutely, she’s crying.

Someone- she's guessing Mystic Flour sits her up as Shadow Milk crawls his way onto the bed by her sides. Golden Butter sticks to the side but sits on the bed as the rest stay close. She lets it spill out.

She talks about the isolation that happened after Golden Butters sleep, she speaks of the horrors of the experiments of the witches and the hungry ones who were sealed inside her- the war she fought to save cookies who either died or forgot about her actions, she brings up letters she sent- only to learn they never received a single one of hers. She whispers of the dark flour war, the endless death, the chaos that reigned and even traced over scars left from those dark years. Of the violence that she faced in the line of cruelty of Dark Enchantress Cookie.

The room is silent for the longest period, and then she admits the most damning thing.

She admits her death- and coming back different.

The silence is different, its stiff, its twisted and she can see something is off. Shadow Milk is the one who prodes her further with his face towards the ground. She tells the rest what they wanted to hear, she admits everything slowly hesitantly, as tears fall down, as she cries, screams, and breaks down. There are several times someone in the group leaves for a few minutes before coming back in- but Shadow Milk stays the entire time, just staying by her side.

Somehow, she ends up asleep as the rest of the group lingers within the world.

Shadow Milk is frowning as he takes Mystic Flours combing through Arcane Eggs hair, Golden Butter stays by his side as the rest of the group lingers around. Golden slowly speaks, “..I should’ve focused on her- I was so- I was so caught up in my own misery that I…” Golden Butter looks down. Shadow Milk sighs, laying a head on her shoulder. Its silent before he speaks, “We’ve been dealt a shitty hand- just-” He looks frustrated before looking at Arcane egg and his face softens in sad way, “...We just been playthings for the witches- they’ve- They’ve been treating us like that for so long.. I just-” Burning Spice speaks up, “They will pay.”

His words are followed by nods as Shadow Milk echos his friends words, “They will pay.” He pets Arcanes Hair, “But not now. For now, we tend to our wounds and we focus on finding a cure.” Its an unsaid agreemnt by the others.

Right now, tending in their own in the focus.

Vengeance upon The witches, Dark Enchantress cookie and any other cookie else can wait until they’ve recovered.

Then, all cards were off.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #cookie run oc #cookie run x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #beast yeast #burning spice cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #silent salt cookie

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hetalia-club · 8 months ago

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Finally i don't feel alone in thinking the fandom is toxic, because I had to deal with a horrible amount of ableism (for literal disabilities I have and apparently someone thought I was incontinent and basically compared incontinent people to diaperfuckers) and even still I have to hide behind anon due to the fact the fandom also has a problem with stalking too, since i have been stalked by people who made private accounts around me and screenshotting everything I said to the point I had to actually talk to someone from the Trevor Project because I genuinely did not feel safe

apologies for the rambling, this fandom isn't normal about disabled people

Honey I'm so sorry :(. Yes people are mean and something about this fandom normalizes it. Idk what it is exactly. People say it's 'always been this way' and while that's true it HAS gotten WORSE. mainly because the fandom is smaller and the assholes just sort of all form a cult together and thrive off each others negativity. They say the people with the worse opinions are the loudest and that couldn't be more true within this fandom.

Also the ability to go fully anonymous on this sight is both a blessing and a plague. I do feel that there SHOULD be a way to find out who the anon was. I myself have been consistently harassed by a Spain kin for almost 5 years. It used to really get to me and it doesn't anymore. I truly just no longer give a shit. I went on Hiatus for 2 years and they CAME BACK! Like they were waiting in the shadows and like a bond vilian just turned in their chair and were like "well well well...". It's just kind of funny if you think about it I live rent free in their dome and they don't even know me. An I can't block them because they are always on anon. So I just delete it and carry on with my life. Last year my therapist diagnosed me with Avoidant Personality Disorder and it answered a lot of questions I've always had about myself. Which means I am an extremely shy person chronically so. I take things to heart even if I shouldn't. I feel things very deeply for myself and for other people and animals. My therapist taught me some tools to try and help me deal and I got an increase in my meds. One of those was to not watch the news or actively sought out negative events because those destroy me. I just can't take it. It's a huge trigger for me and I wish it wasn't I don't like the idea that I make it about me' in some way. It doesn't really do much but it numbs me a bit and makes me care less. It still affects me sure but I feel too unbothered to care. My AI covers have been a HUGE stress relief for me and a good distraction from my feelings. But again it's just a distraction. They are little boosts of serotonin to make and it makes me happy and it makes me even happier when someone enjoys it.

The reason I tell you this is to help you understand that no one really gives a shit. That sounds harsh but please let me elaborate on that. I mean I have straight told people "I am legit too shy to function and I do not like to talk about certain things because it gives me major embarrassment that can last actual days. Can we find a new topic or maybe pivot." but they don't actually listen to me about it. And I understand that it's hard to remember everyone's little quirks but to constantly have to remind people and for them to just "Oh yeah sorry... anyway like I was saying" really stings. Because of my disorder you can imagine I have an extremely hard time speaking my mind and standing up for myself. I want everyone to like me I don't want anyone to dislike me to a fault. I will ignore my own feelings and emotions to let others speak about what makes them happy even if sometimes it does sting. So I actually very much do know exactly where you are coming from with that. Just please remember that these are strangers online. Yes they can say hurtful things but the second you close teh app they disappear. They don't actually matter. And YES I am fully aware that this is easier said than done please believe me on that.

This fandom does have a serious issue with ignoring and disrespecting others disabilities. Especially some that are not really heard about/normalized much like yours or mine. I 100% know everyone thinks I'm lying about my personality disorder being a real thing If they don't want to understand me I can't make them, which sucks but I have no control over that. I wish it were not that way but we can't change other people and the way they think/ act but we can work on ourselves and how we process harassment. I wish you luck anon, you're never alone on this bitch of an earth, love you <3

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salsakiyoomi · 1 year ago

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Hi!! Congrats on 1k followers, your blog theme is super gorgeous <3

Could I please get a matchup for stranger things?

My persona -

Personality - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do, but I'm deathly afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn and distant at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Zodiac - taurus!

Ideal type and Favorite trope - best friends to lovers!!! I'm obsessed with having a person just be your person throughout your life. Someone who knows you inside out, gets you better than anyone else, has seen the best and the worst parts of yourself, someone you're completely comfortable and at ease with, someone you know and trust blindly. idk, I just love the idea very much 😭😭

Favorite season - definitely fall

Hobbies- I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! I really enjoy dressing up and playing around with makeup.

Thank you very much! I'm very sorry if this got too long, I got carried away 😭 can't wait to explore more of your blog, your Miguel x reader was a delight <3

Congrats once again on your milestone, I hope you have a lovely day ❤️

HONEYMOON MATCHUP WITH : EDDIE MUNSON

— honeymoon

eddie has always loved you, since the moment you saved him from those stupid bullies in second grade, even though the two of you got beat up — you still asked him if he was okay, and of course he said yes, he was amazed by how brave you were back then and how you stood up for him, a kid you've never met before and one who had a reputation for being a freak — nevertheless, ever since that moment, the two of you stuck together like glue, and you grew up to be close friends, or maybe something more than just friends — not that eddie would ever go over that line.

it started in second year of highschool when eddie realized he might've felt something more for you than just regular friends — which was weird because you never expressed anything that said you were interested in him like that — ignoring the way you usually hugged him too tightly or the sloppy kisses you placed on his cheeks, at first it was okay and normal, but ever since his fat crush on you, his heart always leapt to his throat whenever you made contact with him. he was starting to see you more than a friend with every passing day, and god, it was no good for him —he knew he needed to stop, needed to get this thoughts out of his mind and bury his feeling deep and take them with him to the grave, but he couldn't help it, couldn't help staring at you for too long, couldn't help craving your touch, couldn't help thinking about the way your lips could press up — no, no, he can't think like that.

and then came the late afternoon where the two of you were sitting by your secret spot — the bench in the woods, as eddie liked to call it ( he said it sounded ominous ) you weren't sitting on the bench, no, eddie sat up by a tree bark with your head resting in his lap, rambling on about the new album of your favorite band, while the light of the setting sun bounced on your face perfectly, defining your features and adding a golden glimmer to your already sparkling eyes — eddie wasn't listening to a word you were saying, his gaze dead set on your lips, how the moved, how pretty and plump they looked, and before he even knew it, he was leaning over, pressing his lips to yours, tasting the cherry lip balm you always wore tat made your lips pink and shiny and so irresistible— it was only to his surprise that you kissed him back.

— what's on the radio : me and your mama, childish gambino

a/n : i love eddie's hair sm, ty for the request <3 also i think you're really cool

#1k event matchup #1k milestone #honeymoon matchup event #stranger things #stranger things matchups #eddie munson

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i-fondued · 2 years ago

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Please ignore my whining I need to organize my thoughts and this is a place without irl people 🙃

So good-ish news? I got the second job I was going for. But like...I already work like 45 hours a week at my current job and I'm always exhausted as it is. But like we desperately need more income coming in till my husband graduates in late January/early February. It's also retail pharmacy which I swore I wouldn't go back to especially after covid but like I asked for 25 an hour and they didn't even bat an eyelash. Meanwhile I'm making 23 an hour with 4x the responsibilities currently at my full time job.

Which is also miserable honestly, like I LOVE my job so much but management is just fucking awful and they care about the money and couldn't care less about patient care. I even told my husband I was tempted to see if the retail pharmacy would give me full time hours and I'd just go back to retail but like physically I don't think I could go back to patient facing anymore ahaha.

I'm just restless and apathetic; my therapist said it sounds like I'm having a midlife crisis which is hilarious cause I'm not even 30 yet. Like it's the episode of SpongeBob where squidward slowly gets depressed living in his little perfect community. That's me, I'm just slowly melting. Like I'm making 4x what my mom made when she was my age and I'm struggling even more than she was. It's not fair.

Then my mom and my aunt have the audacity to be like oh well Laurel is sick and you wouldn't send her to a normal daycare if she was sick. Like...yes I would??? She doesn't have a temp, she's just got a drippy nose and a gross cough? We can't give her anything for any of it, we just have to wait it out. My fucking mother was like "I NEVER would have sent you out when you were this sick". Um. Yeah because when I was 2 and a 1/2 YOU DIDNT WORK. YOU STAYED HOME WITH ME TILL I STARTED SCHOOL AND WE WERE A ONE INCOME HOUSEHOLD AND SO INCREDIBLY POOR. Like if my mom didn't have her siblings idk where we would have ended up.

I'm sorry I have to go to work?? To provide for my children?? TO BE ABLE TO PAY MY AUNT TO WATCH THE CHILDREN YOU ARE BOTH COMPLAINING ABOUT HAVING WHILE THEY ARE SICK??? Like if I don't go to work just one day, I miss out on an entire bill and we fall behind and we are one bad week away from falling too far behind and loosing everything. I'm so frustrated about the whole situation I was so angry I almost started crying in anger when I was trying to keep calm when my aunt was making comments.

Not to mention, I almost started crying at work over all the stress of having 2 people out, the phone nonstop ringing, and just useless coworkers. I'm stretched thin, and the only thing bringing me joy is writing. I wish I could be good enough to publish, to make my stories get out there and make the work I've put into then bring me money back. Something that brings me joy instead of stress.

My friend suggested I start a patreon and start posting chapters a day early for people who pledge a dollar or more; or have exclusive stories posted on there for people to get early access to but like...idk. it feels kinda weird to do for fanfiction, and like it's not really about money for me. I just want to be able to share these things with people who enjoy them with me? But like if I had an extra 50 or even 100 a month from it, that covers a single bill which makes a difference for our little family.

Idk I'm just rambling now, I'm just in a weird mental state I think. I have my period which I'm sure is making me more emotional too. I just want to be able to be rewarded for how hard I work and how much I care about these patients and I feel like my boss is actually punishing me instead. Healthcare can be so rewarding for someone like me but it can also be a hellscape because the US doesn't have universal healthcare.

Anyways I'm fine 🙂

#i fondued speaks #im fine i swear #just money problems and stress #and work #juat normal life stuff

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cherienymphe · 4 years ago

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Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ Image by @angrybirdcr

➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics

This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!

summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend.

“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”

Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.

You were used to these short moments of silence by now.

You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.

Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.

She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.

It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials.

It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.

You soon found out that was easier said than done.

The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.

As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble.

You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.

“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”

You shook your head.

“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.

“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.

“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”

You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling.

“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.

You sighed.

“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.

He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.

“I’ll see you next week?”

You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.

Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.

Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.

Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.

You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.

Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.

The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.

“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.

“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”

You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.

Harry.

Harry freaking Osborn.

You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?

Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.

Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.

“Oh!”

You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.

“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.

The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.

“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.

You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.

“Everything okay…?”

You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”

You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.

“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”

You frantically shook your head.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”

“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted.

You nervously eyed him with a frown.

“Are...are you sure?”

His smile was comforting.

“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.

You bit your lip, and Steve continued.

“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.

Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.

“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”

You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.

After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.

“So what’s on your mind?”

What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?

“Just sleepless nights,” you said.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.

“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”

Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie.

“How so?” Steve hummed.

“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”

Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.

“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”

Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.

“What brought all of this on?”

Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.

“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”

“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.

“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”

“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”

You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.

“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, I can’t-.”

“It’s fine, trust me.”

You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.

“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.

You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.

“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.

You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”

Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.

You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass.

You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.

“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.

You gave a shaky laugh.

“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.

“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”

You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.

“Y/N.”

His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.

“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”

You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.

“Is everything okay?”

You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.

“Y/N.”

The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”

You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.

“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.

You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.

“It’s...Harry.”

Steve’s face was pinched with concern.

“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.

Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.

“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”

You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.

“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.

“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”

Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.

“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”

Steve straightened up at this.

“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”

You shrugged, scoffing.

“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.

Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.

“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.

“I wish that you had called me,” he said.

You looked down, guilt filling you.

“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary.

“What have I said about self deprecating language?”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”

You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.

You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.

“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”

You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.

“Steve, I don’t know-.”

“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”

Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.

“...and you have to promise me one thing…”

You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.

Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.

True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.

“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”

He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.

“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.

Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.

Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.

Not until he knocked on your door one night.

It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.

“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.

Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.

“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”

The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.

“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”

“I told you-!”

“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.

He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity.

You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.

You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking.

“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.

“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.

You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.

“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.

Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”

Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.

He followed you into the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”

“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.

You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”

Steve hummed.

“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.

“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”

Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.

“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.

“Take all the time you need.”

You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She greeted you with a soft exhale.

“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”

You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.

“...what?”

“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”

She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?

“How?” you finally asked her.

She sighed.

“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”

“Months?”

“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”

Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.

“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.

Your face must have been an open book.

“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.

Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.

“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”

“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”

You thought about it before shaking your head.

“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.

“It’s going to be alright-.”

“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”

You chuckled at that, and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”

You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.

“Steve…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.

“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.

He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.

“What…?”

“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”

You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.

“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”

His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”

You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.

Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.

“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.

It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.

“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.

You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.

“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”

You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.

“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”

You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”

“You’re crazy-.”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.

Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.

“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @buckybarnesplumwhore @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

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birthdaycakeplate · 2 years ago

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This is an emotional ramble on why I got into tfa Blitzbee (not that any body asked me and will be leaving this post a little bit scarred- I simply think way too much about fictional men, and have to talk about them to balance my blood sugar)

I saw tfa when I was like 13 and hated it vehemently. Couldn’t wait for the next show on CartoonNetwork to come on. I saw Transformers Armada in snippets when I was 8 and loved it. Because of Hot shot, basically... and Starscream.

Now one year ago I saw Tfa again on YouTube, after being stuck in G1 and Armada hell for trying to revisit childhood memories out of NOWHERE, and it’s now the most important piece of fiction to me on the planet. I can’t believe how much I love this show, now that I’m old as hell.

On to my point.

I have some kind of problem -that I won’t be telling my therapist about- where I HAVE to ship characters that I think are cute or cool 🙃 If I like you, you get yourself an in universe pairing. I can’t enjoy literature or media without romance or ships in it, same with real life. Obviously I don’t know why that is, or if should be worried.

Anyway, Blitzbee was an interesting case, because, while truly watching this show for the first time finally, I thought Bee was rude compared to his G1 self, and Blitzwing was just thousands of tonnes of cute, strong, extremely interesting mech.

I tend to base my ship relationships off my real life one of 13 years (so that’s how you know I’m biased and unreliable).

Big-strong looks precious with little-sassy. That’s my default, but not my only means of forming the connection between characters. Otherwise I wouldn’t indulge so deeply in Strika x Lugnut.

-Extra clarification, if I’m being confusing-

🔽🔽🔽

With the millions of exceptions I have to this default template, I should say (in my only, extremely weak defense) that it basically depends on the character I’ve found cute and cool. Like Overlord x Tarn, to give an example. They are vile, reckless, brutal, and their ship is saturated in dysfunction and animosity. Not to mention, there is no one specific cute, little baby to keep protected and loved (just kidding, it’s Tarn. He’s baby).

So the template isn’t a final thing. You don’t have to be a big bruiser with a little angel, when I’ve got equal power ships like WonderBat, JesseJames from Team Rocket, or rk1000 from DBH in my arsenal.

And even then, like OverTarn, I subconsciously label someone as the sweetheart who needs protecting, just not in the same sense. Starscream x Windblade is a fun ship, and in that one, I think of Starscream as a needy, self conscious, broken mech who needs lots of affection.

Y’all did not ask for this, stop this, Cake.

——End clarification, back to the point——

It just so happened that Blitzwing got the role of ‘big boy is stronk and assertive’ (for reasons I’ll explain below) and I my kind, I wanted to assign him by favorite formula of a tiny sass machine to provide for.

I ignored finding him a ship for a while, and focused on the one that got me interested in Tfa suddenly in the first place- Megop. Who also fits my default template, splendidly.

I consumed more content just to see those two cuties in their natural habitats, until at last, Bumblebee wasn’t the rude bot I thought he was.

He was confident, playful, moderately easy to fluster (adorable), and compassionate ✨ He knew how to live life (I wish I did), made MANY mistakes (my favorite kind of character, because I regret everything I’ve chosen in life), and he was so happy whenever he could be with his family and just chill.

Bee was a sweetheart, I just hadn’t realized. When he told Sari to go ahead and cry all she needed and just held her in that one episode, that really did me in finally. Bee was now an awesome character, and I’d just needed to get to know him better. Which is frequently the case- I started off hating this show, after all.

Struggling with the emptiness of Blitzwing having no partner despite my insane infatuation for him (again, why does everyone need to be in a relationship, Cake? Life is fulfilling without romance. Well, I’m not going to tell my therapist still, so this is just my brain forever, I guess. Relationships or I lose interest) I was ✨immediately enlightened✨ I could see it now, I could see THE PAIRING💕 the one I’d waited a month for 🥺

But it got better, AS SOON as I’d given the thought life.

They could also actually.... ✨WORK✨

I realized they could be a sensible couple and I hadn’t just thrown them together like I had ShockBlur.

And it was literally all thanks to Blitzwing’s random, playful side I was given this little puzzle piece.

I could have my cake and eat it too (hence my name 🙃).

Blitzwing could be rough, tough, and sharp and protect his cocky, lighthearted, friendly, goofy little Autobot mate. AND he had a matching personality.

Years of war, violent, traumatic experiences had hardened him into a responsible, keen mech (in my head canon of him at least) which reminded me of my own partner in life. So another brick in the ship I was build.

BUT, Blitzwing could also be playful when his little one needed him to be. He could be reckless and daring and confident when Bee needed it, but still settle down for the day to watch him play video games and keep him cuddled in his lap.

(Obviously this is all shipping jargon, and I’m delusional, but you have to be delusional to ship characters who are unloving enemies, and canonically disgusted with each other, I guess 😭)

So, here I am projecting all my shit (these poor fictional robots) onto this amazing couple, I’ve finally met a justification to ship together (I have to have justification or I lose my freaking mind) AND THEN.

THEN Blitzwing calls Bumblebee (and Fanzone’s matching car) “Cute!” Because ‘they’re twins’.

And that’s all I needed for my formula of nonsense. Blitzbee was born, and can you guys freaking imagine what it was LIKE to enter into a fandom that was not only still alive, BUT SHIPPED the things I shipped? Like I cannot leave this place, I have never lucked out on old media still being popular, and loved enough to assign ships I genuinely care about an existence.

Am I old? Do y’all ever get this?

Anyway, I AM SHARING THIS for no other reason then I think so much about how perfect they are together, and I’m generally jarred and sad when in the show they don’t show each other the barest hint of kindness.

But more accurately, I’m sharing this because I’m hoping someone will like read this and say in the comments wow BirthdayCake this is actually me, like these are my thoughts and feelings. You just described me, you are not alone. I literally could not believe how perfect two mechs having a similar personality type was when they were both so cute, what were the chances 🥺🥺🥺

Another part of me hopes none of you will read this, because I sound like an idiot.

So, anyways I need therapy, but I’m using cartoons instead. I’m sorry if you made it all the way to the bottom.

#Ever just share too much on Tumblr because you are just so into this one Monical having bitch?#Rambling #my insipid thoughts #Toxic post from a toxic person #Blitzbee #tfa #tranformers animated

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kodzuvii · 3 years ago

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ON TRACK! ✩ [14: so, I guess we’re soulmates?]

next: [15: the rock wannabe]

pairing - iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre - crack + fluff :) soulmate au!

synopsis - In a world where soulmates can hear the songs their partner is singing or listening too at any time, Iwaizumi Hajime wants to know who his soulmate is so he can give them a piece of his mind and tell them to stop singing along to soft lofi songs while he’s in the middle of practice because it’s seriously ruining his cool, calm, and collected image.

wc: 4k

warnings!: grammar issues plz ignore + awkward phone call between two overthinking teenagers?

a/n: this is severely long overdue and I apologize deeply for that. the taglist for this series is open! more info will be found in the note after the story! ty :)

“Nee-chan’s weakness #16: overthinks more often than usual when under a lot of pressure”

Akaashi loved you. He really did. But if the higher-ups gave him an option to choose a new older sister, then maybe, just maybe, he would consider taking it. As he watched you frantically pace around his room with your dog (who looked quite scared) in your arms, he wondered if you viewed him more of a personal therapist rather than a little sibling.

His evening was going normal. After a long day of practice, all he intended to do was read a book after dinner and maybe watch a movie with Tofu afterwards just before bed. Nowhere in his plans were for you to barge into his room unannounced with an evident look of panic on your face while mumbling incoherent words.

Your hair was a mess and you were clad in an oversized sweater and superman pajama pants with Tofu in one of your arms while your phone was being held tightly in your other hand. All he could get from the words leaving your lips at a 1.75 playback speed was “soulmate” and “phone call” and “not ready.”

Akaashi watched you stop in your tracks and pull out his desk chair. You plopped yourself onto the seat, face warm and flushed as you tried to recall how you were feeling. “No Keiji I’m telling you that any second now, my soulmate is gonna call me and uhm? Quite frankly, my brain can’t process that and I am fucking scared.”

Akaashi hummed, “nee-chan calm down.” Tofu then jumped out of your arms and leaped onto Akaashi’s bed. He walked up and cuddled up near the setters side which made Akaashi smile before turning his attention back to you.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs and spun around on his chair, “no Kei this is serious. This first phone call is basically equivalent to a meet-cute which also means the first impressions. I feel like his first impression already isn’t good because I literally injured his friend so this is my moment to redeem myself” you rambled.

Akaashi made eye contact with Tofu and even the poor dog looked concerned at your state.

“Kei, what if this is all a mistake? I mean the universe must be against me somehow right? What if he hates me the moment I answer and then next thing you know he’s telling me that he wants us to reject each other and then I’m gonna be left all alone to roam around this miserable world and-mph!”

You flinched back as you felt a soft pillow collide with your face and stop your ramble. You looked down at the pillow on the floor and snapped your head up to your brother, “what was that for!” Akaashi rolled his eyes and petted Tofu with his right hand, “you overthink too much” he replied simply.

You narrowed your eyes at him but you couldn’t come up with any comeback in your head. He was right after all. You groaned and stood up from the spinny chair and walked over to his bed before belly-flopping down. You leaned over and grabbed the blue pillow near his headboard and Akaashi watched as you screamed into the plush material.

You were losing it.

“This sucks Keiji, I’m terrible at phone calls. I don’t even answer Otosan’s phone calls so how the fuck am I supposed to answer my soulmates?”

In Miyagi, Iwaizumi unknowingly found himself in a similar state as you. The moon was shining from his window and the light cascaded a soft glow into his room. With his windows wide open, he could feel the cool breeze blowing in and slightly brushing over his face. But the breeze didn’t help calm his nerves at all.

Iwa was a simple guy, really he was.

As someone who meditated regularly as well as found good coping mechanisms that would help calm his stress levels down, you would think that he’d be relaxed in this situation.

But no, Iwa was also internally panicking. Being the stubborn boy he was, he tried to play it off and cool himself down by fooling himself into believing that he was fine and that he had everything under control.

He didn’t

Iwa cracked his neck and looked back down at his phone. He was sitting on the sides of his bed, hand gripping tightly onto his phone as his eyes stared at your number displayed on the screen right under your name and his thumb barely hovering over the call button.

“Okay. I’m gonna do it,” he thought to himself for the nth time in the past 10 minutes.

He took a deep breath and gave himself an internal word of encouragement and made the move. ‘So close’ he thought. “This is it, I’m gonna do it” But just as his thumb barely, just barely, made contact with the screen, he pulled it back and harshly threw his phone at his pillow. He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration as he fell back, his back hitting his mattress.

This was starting to piss him off.

It was just a phone call.

Him simply contacting and talking verbally to someone through his phone.

He was fine.

Right?

Yeah no, he was totally fine. Pft He’s had phone calls before. In fact, he had done it several times with several people (that’s a lie he only picks up to his parents and maybe Oikawa on good days) Why was this so hard? Phone calls are a natural thing. Especially in the 21st century. He wasn’t some old man who had no idea how to talk on the phone.

He got this.

But wait, did you even want him to call you first? What if you wanted to call him first? Wait what if he asked you during the wrong time and you’re tired?

Iwaizumi then lifted his head slightly to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was 8 pm. It wasn’t that late right? You would’ve told him if you were busy right? Wait what if you’re an early bird who liked catching a full 12 hours of sleep. Or what if you were just too scared to tell him you weren’t in the mood to call. God, there were so many factors he should’ve thought about before asking you. He blinked and heaved a frustrated sigh as he looked up to his ceiling. This was a lot harder than he’d thought.

If there was one thing he learned from Oikawa’s fangirls is that girls are scary.

You were no exception to that idea.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath before pulling himself back up and leaned over to grab his phone. He turned it to the side and made sure once again that his ringer was on and that the volume was all the way up just in case you know, you wanted to call first and save him from all the stress he was feeling.

He stared at your contact information and gripped his phone tighter. Your contact didn’t even have a photo and your name was just ‘Akaashi Y/n’ on his phone. Everything that happened between you two from the past couple of weeks flooded his head and he couldn’t help but internally cringe. He silently cursed at Oikawa for bringing him into this situation because maybe, just maybe, he could’ve held off this first phone call and wait for a couple of years when his voice would be a lot deeper and he would be a lot cooler and he wouldn’t be sitting on his bed with a pathetic expression while listening to his phone ring and-

Wait,

Ring?

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as he now realized that he must’ve subconsciously pressed the call button on his screen. This was it, there was no turning back now. His olive-green eyes stared blankly at his screen. He kept blinking and re-reading your name and just hoping silently that it would change from your name to Oikawa’s so he could yell out all his frustration at him.

A couple of seconds went by before the ringing stopped and he felt his breath hitch when his ears picked up the sound of your voice on the other line.

“Hello?”

Oh, shit this was really happening

It’s been 3 seconds, shut up Hajime.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Hey, Akaashi-chan right?”

“Mhm but please just call me Y/n! oh and uh hi Iwaizumi-kun”

Iwaizumi blinked, he doesn’t know why but he felt his cheeks heat up as he heard his name come out of your lips. Iwaizumi cleared his throat before bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh- how are you doing?” he asked. Oh my god, you probably picked up on how unconfident he sounded. This is horrible. He winced and brought his hand to his forearm, rubbing it in an attempt to ease down his nerves.

“I’m doing okay, did you uhm-- eat yet??”

Iwaizumi stiffened, taken back a bit at the question but you interrupted him before he could reply. “I-I’m guessing you got back from practice not too long ago right? Assuming you stayed back late and stuff,” you trailed off. Wincing at your own awkwardness. Iwaizumi pinched his forearm and chuckled nervously, “No-uhm you’re right I got back a couple of hours ago. And yeah, I ate already. Did you?” He asked back, You shook your head, “no not yet. Been busy reviewing and all that stuff” you answered truthfully as you glanced up at your stacks of opened notebooks and coloured highlighters messily spread around all over your desk.

Iwaizumi grunted, his nervousness momentarily washing away as concern came over him. “Y/n, you can’t neglect your health. Cut some fruit up or something” You froze for a second at how stern he sounded just now. Then you realized that this could just be his natural voice and you’re just reading into it too much. Oh god you were starting to overthink again. How did Bokuto and your brother get past their first conversation?

Your silent curses towards the world were cut short when you realized that too many seconds passed and Iwaizumi was still waiting for your reply. Like you do in any unsure situation, you stifled a laugh and nodded while scratching your knee awkwardly, “I will I will.”

A long line of silence then came through and there were no other words to describe it other than awkward. The faint buzzing of your phone sounded louder than ever. You could hear the wind blowing, the clock ticking, and the way your legs would shuffle against each other as you fidgeted. The silence between you two was long, tense, and uncomfortable. The kind of silence that made people want to die on the inside. You both started to question the situation you were in. You had the same goal, both wanting to learn more about your soulmate. Yet you’re lack of comfort and his lack of confidence made things more nerve wracking than it should be.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you tried to think of something you could say that would loosen both of you up. A quick little sentence that was casual and good for conversation starters. You thought for a second, trying to recall your favourite movie couples and what words they said to each other during their meet cute. You needed something smooth, simple, but something that could address the situation you were in. It then clicked in your mind, 5 words, 5 syllables (or did it count as 7?) whatever.

All your time spent watching incredibly dramatic romance movies has led up to this moment.

“So…” you started in a casual tone.

“I guess we’re soulmates huh?”

The moment those words left your mouth your mind short-circuited and you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. It definitely sounded way cooler in your head. God what were you thinking? And why did you make it sound like it was a question. stupid. Barely 10 minutes in and you’ve already embarrassed yourself.

You fell back onto your bed (Akaashi kicked you out of his room) and covered your hand over your mouth and moved your phone away from your face and let out a tiny scream so that Iwa would not be able to hear. Maybe you weren’t as smooth as you thought. However, that didn’t matter anymore. The words had been said and now the embarrassment was eating you up and every single bad scenario you had previously imagined began to cloud your mind. This was it, you’re soulmate definitely thought you were a loser, bye-bye happiness and hello staying sad and single until you fall into your grave.

Your ears perked up when you heard him clear his throat. You sat up, moved your phone closer to your ear as you anticipated his reply.

“Yeah I guess”

Your body tensed up at how unsure and bored he sounded. And you thought this moment couldn’t become anymore embarrassing. You physically felt your soul leave your body the moment he spoke those words in such a bored tone. This is gonna be a moment that would forever haunt you in the years to come.

Phone calls were neither of you guys’ strong suits and that fact was clearly evident in the way neither of you knew what to say next. While you could handle carrying yourself in real-life conversations, the closeness of someone's voice against your ear and their lack of presence in front of you made things made things more stressful than it should be. Iwaizumi was naturally not much of a talker, he usually let his flamboyant best friend that was joint to his hip take control of conversations. It didn’t help that most people found him rather intimidating and unapproachable.

The silence stretched out for another minute and the longer before you decided to speak up once again. You agreed to call because you wanted to learn more about him, your soulmate, and there was no way you could learn anything about him by just listening to the faint sounds of his breath through your phone. You shook your head and gave yourself a mini pep talk in your head.

Come on Y/n, pussy up bitch.

“Iwaizumi-kun I’m gonna be honest-”

Iwaizumi's hands that were playing with the cotton material of his sweatpants froze. His voice got stuck in his throat and a part of him became worried. Curse his lack of conversational abilities. He was too lost in second guessing himself while structuring his sentences about what he wanted to say to realize that you were probably waiting for him to say something. Did he already mess things up with his soulmate?

“-I suck at phone calls. Like, I’m terrible at it and I’m honestly really nervous right now because this whole thing is a bit overwhelming but I want to get to know more about you because well, you seem pretty cool” you rambled and were met with silence on the other line. Iwaizumi suddenly felt himself get flustered the moment you said that he was cool.

You sighed and continued, trying to ease the way your heart was pounding against your chest. “Truthfully I don’t know what to say or what we should talk about, so we can start with the basics, yeah?” You cleared your throat and straightened yourself up as you took a deep breath.

“Hi Iwaizumi-kun, I’m Y/n”

It took a moment for his mind to process the words you said. Basics. Yeah, he was capable of doing that. After taking a deep breathe, one that was meant to give him some sort of encouragement, he replied. You felt chills go up your back as his gruff voice echoing through the speaker;

“Hey, I’m Iwaizumi”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

First real conversations were never easy. A part of you felt like you were back in your first year of junior high when your teacher was forcing you to play ice-breaker games in an attempt to get to know the people in your class. The questions were the usual “what’s your favourite food?”, “when's your birthday?”, etc etc.

However, instead of getting to know your classmates, the game would usually just result in everyone staring at one another as they waited for someone to speak up. An awkward tension cutting into the classroom as everyone simultaneously realizes that everyone was kinda lame and boring and that they don’t really wanna get to know the people who sat beside them.

You hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Iwaizumi. You’ve known you’d had a soulmate since middle school. Since then, you’ve always fantasized about your meet-cute. You’ve watched many romantic movies and read more than enough manga to fuel your brain with endless cute imaginations and ideas.

But alas, the reality of the world is that cute scenarios are simply meant to live in fictional stories. Akaashi had even told you that you needed to humble down your expectations to save yourself from disappointment in the future.

The first couple words exchanged in your conversation weren’t poetic words of love confessions and sweet nothings. They were typical, short common questions that people generally use to learn more about each other. The expected “when’s your birthday?” and “what do you do in your free time?”

You learned about how his birthday was during June, his favourite colour was dark green, he liked agedashi tofu, and how he spent his free time doing some sort of exercise or physical activity. Iwaizumi was also relatively quiet, truth be told you did most of the talking while he said quiet words to let you know that he was still listening. Along with being quiet, he was private. A direct contrast to you. You were an open book, your mouth moved faster than your mind and you had not much of a problem telling him about little details about yourself.

Iwaizumi on the other hand was selective on what he wanted to tell you. Iwaizumi was simple. A down to earth guy who had his own little sense of edginess to him. He was levelheaded and was someone who strived for realistic goals rather than unreasonable daydreams. You caught that when he simply answered that his goal right right now was to attend nationals with his best friend. When you asked if he had further goals, he simply said that everything else was too far into the future and was out of his reach. You could also tell that even though he used names such as “piece of trash” and “shittykawa” to describe his said best friend, he cared for him in his own way.

Iwaizumi always had a feeling that his soulmate would be the more talkative one out of the two of them. He wasn’t reserved per se, just wasn’t one to ramble over things when deemed unnecessary. You on the other hand could talk for hours. Just from listening to your speaking patterns and tone of voice, you were bright and confident. You found ways to stray away from the original topic and talk about something completely different. On top of learning about your birthday, favourite food, colour, and basically everything he told you, he also somehow learned about your allergy to raspberries, your admiration for early 2000s movies, how you had a dog who you also considered like another brother, and now he was listening to you retell a story about how you got into baking and cooking.

You were carefree once you became comfortable. Your voice was captivating, one that made people always pay attention to whatever you were saying. He listened intently as you went on about your story, he hummed here and there to indicate that he was listening and nodded along even though he knew you wouldn’t see.

A part of him felt relieved to hear you speak so freely. While you never directly came to him, he could tell from your Twitter rants that you were going through a lot of stress from school. Iwaizumi may have only met you formally recently, but he’s listened to your taste in music long enough to have an idea about how the songs you were playing indicated your moods. You had been playing such gloomy music during the past couple of weeks but he was still too nervous and felt like he was overstepping a line if he became too upfront and told you to tell him what’s wrong.

Yeah, you were soulmates, but you technically didn’t know him just like how he didn’t know you.

Nonetheless, a part of him felt relieved at hearing the genuine excitement in your voice because he knew that at this very moment, you were feeling okay.

“-and that’s how I baked a cake to persuade my brother into not telling our Mom that we sneaked out to the convenience store at 4 am,” you said cheerfully as you recalled the memory. You had switched from sitting at your bed to now sitting on your chair and leaning your upper body onto your desk. You moved your word out of the way and had your elbows propped up on the surface of your desk, your head leaning onto your phone in your hands. A part of you felt giddy when you heard the faintest chuckle come from the other end of the line.

The awkward tension between you two was fizzling out and you no longer felt as nervous as you did in the beginning. You were slowly and surely becoming a bit more comfortable with his presence. Truthfully, Iwaizumi still felt a bit awkward. Not that he minded you talking a lot, he just didn’t know what to say and was worried that you found him boring like how Oikawa said he was.

He really was trying. It just wasn’t in his character to be so open about himself.

“Y/n, you know how dangerous that could've been?”

“Shh, my brother was practically a giant back when we were in junior high so he was enough to scare any creeps away. Plus, I already knew then that the elbow is the strongest point in the body so I would’ve been able to fight any sort of dangerous threat!” you exclaimed. “That is not a good excuse,” he replied in an unamused tone.

You huffed, “At least I know something about self-defence” you attempted to reason. You only heard Iwaizumi reply with a simple ‘tched’ which made you laugh.

It was then that you looked onto the clock at the corner of your desk and realized how late it was and it was also then that you remembered that you still had some notes that you wanted to write up before you went to bed. Curse University prep. You were so lost in your conversation with the boy that time slipped past your mind along with your other responsibilities. Just when you two had started getting into a comfortable rhythm too. You sighed sadly which immediately caught Iwaizumi’s attention.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. You shook your head and removed your phone from your ear and pressed the speaker button on your phone screen. You placed your phone on your desk and stood up to organize the notebooks you had pushed aside on your desk. “Nothing bad, just remembered I had a couple more notes I wanted to finish up before bed,” you said with a hint of sadness in your voice. You wanted to continue your conversation with him and you really weren’t in the mindset to review your nutrition notes right now.

Iwaizumi paused to take a moment to look up at his wall clock and realized that it was nearing midnight. Iwaizumi felt a twinge of guilt inside of him when he realized that he kept you up so late. This was even past his own scheduled bedtime.

“I didn’t mean to keep you up so late, my bad” he apologized. You stifled a laugh as a tired smile spread on your lips. “It’s not your fault. Something tells me that you’re the type of person who sleeps early so I should be apologizing for keeping you up” you replied.

You suddenly yawned and stretched your arms over your head, “I’m gonna finish up and call in for the night. You should get some rest Iwaizumi-”

“Go to bed” You flinched slightly at how serious his voice got.

“It’s late, you can finish up your notes tomorrow. Studying when you’re tired isn’t healthy. Get some sleep so you won’t feel extra tired and groggy tomorrow morning. If you’re gonna stay up, at least go and make yourself something to eat for tomorrow so you feel energized”

You smiled tiredly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you Iwaizumi-kun. Oh and thank you for tonight, I enjoyed talking to you and I hope we can do this again” you shyly suggested. You closed your eyes as you clutched the material of your sweater to your chest as you waited for his answer. Iwaizumi felt a sense of relief rush into him knowing that you enjoyed talking to him. A sense of his self doubt momentarily washing away. You didn’t hear a reply for a moment and it worried you that you might’ve said the wrong thing. But a couple of moments passed before you heard a faint “Me too”

You moved your hand to hover over the red call button on your screen,

“Goodnight Iwaizumi-kun, sleep well”

“You too, Y/n”

The ‘beep’ from your phone indicating the call had ended echoed through your room. You stared at your phone for a moment as it dawned on you that you just had your first real conversation with your soulmate. And yeah it wasn’t the large extravagant straight-out-of-movie scene you had always envisioned but that didn’t matter. What mattered now was that you had talked to your soulmate and you knew a little bit more about him and he knew a little bit more about you.

It was a start.

You yawned and stretched your arms up over your head once again and sighed in relief when you felt your back crack. Your arms dropped to your side and you frowned as your eyes looked down at your notebooks that you had now neatly stacked in your hands. You realized that you were far too tired to even open up your textbooks, let alone finish a couple pages of notes.

Thinking back to what Iwaizumi said, you could always tune in early for the night and finish everything up tomorrow in the library. Plus, waking up to something to energizing to eat didn’t sound so bad. It wasn’t going to take long and you figured you had a bit more energy left to cut up some fruit before surrendering yourself to sleep.

Content with your decision you turned around and made your way towards your door. However, just as you were about to step out you heard three buzzes from your phone come back to back. Curiously, you walked back towards your desk and leaned down to read the message:

“Hey, if you need someone to study with then let me know and we can facetime and I can keep you company. If you want to of course. No pressure if you’re not up for it”

“Oh and grapefruits are really good to have the morning by the way, they’re refreshing”

“rest well.”

a/n: hello! This chapter is very long overdue and I’m really sorry about that. I’m not gonna go into it but just know that this series is back and I hope to keep a steady flow of updates going :)

I struggled a lot with writing this chapter partly because I myself am terrible at phone calls but I hope this gives an insight to difference between Iwa and Yn!

I will be opening up taglist for any of my newer readers who would like to keep up with the updates of “on track!” Feel free to comment or send me a message : ) Regarding my current taglist, it’s been months and I’ve noticed a lot of people changed their @s so I tried to find everyone who changed their users. If I accidentally tagged you and you weren’t on my list let me know + inform me if i also missed you. If you no longer want to be added, then please let me know if you would like to be removed from the taglist. Thank you all so much for your patience and feel free to let me know about your thoughts down below :)

++ I just want to clarify iwaizumi’s initial care for Y/n’s well-being isn’t meant to be interpreted as “omg he’s falling for her already” and should be seen as just someone who cares about his soulmate and wants them to be healthy. He knows that YN is his soulmate and cares about her because of that. But it’s more of a platonic care at the moment. They’re soulmates, yes, but he’s not in love with her and Y/n is not in love with him (yet at least) ya gets?

yeah i’m just a fan of slow burn

I just wanted to say that just because I’m not confident in the way I wrote him 😅 thank you so much again for reading!

taglist! [OPEN; comment or send an ask to be added!]

@aircorumble @bunnyuuji-archive @cloudsvna @donteathecake @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @sunabrainrot @tadashi-simp @agaashesmilktea @sbaepsae @vicassa @akaashikeijisthighs @mariachiii @ayocee @starsinthepavement @cece-lives-here @elianetsantana @gxrleexis-arctic-monks @ssaihanuweol @sazunari @kenmacorps @simping-for-tendou @intoomuchfandoms @vxnna @froyopet @komouri @idek-at-thispoint @volexis @insomniish @amberisnotcrazy @maramalademadara @faewraithsworld @mjoork @mindofess @dreamstormings @h0ngh0ngh0ng @keekee-732 @daewengol @amessypan @applekenm @ptv-hades @killlerqween @bakusquadz @bbymilkbread @bbyhaji @sophie-duck @marissaraeblr @kellesvt

tags continue in comments w/ my main🤍

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu soulmate au #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi hajime smau #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #on track!

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nights-legacy · 4 years ago

Text

Accidental Voltage-Denki

First time trying to hold their hand. Does it go right or wrong?

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

+For being the pervert that Denki could be, everyone was surprised when they found out that you two hadn’t been intimate in any way. You two hadn’t even held hands. I mean they were really surprised. Denki is even surprised at himself but he really wants this to work with you. So when the time comes, he is really happy…happily electrified.

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

The whole class was having a movie night and we had invited some others from the other classes. Such as Shinso, the Big Three, Tetsutetsu, and somehow Monoma. I was sitting next to Denki on the end of one of the couches while Shinso was sitting on the ground in front of me. Shinso and I grew up together, so we had always been close, which made Denki happy since he was hell-bent on being friends with the purple hair boy.

“This movie is so boring.” Denki quietly into my ear. I chuckled. I looked over at him in the dark. He was looking at the ceiling, exasperated. He let his head fall to look at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t pick it though.” I told him.

“Grape did.” Shinso said, leaning his head back against my knee. The two of us laugh a little too loud. Iida chided us but we couldn’t help but laugh at Shinso picking up on Class 1-A’s nickname for the littlest member of the class.

“I am surprised it’s not worse since he’s a perverted little shit.” I said.

“You’re boyfriends a perverted little shit.” Shinso said. Denki gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. Shinso just rolled his eyes before turning to the movie. Denki crossed his arms and pouted.

“Denks.” I nudged him with my elbow. He looked at me with puppy eyes. I booped him on the nose and he went cross eyed for a second before grinning widely. I chuckled lightly.

I turned back to the movie and we sat in silence for a while before I got restless again. I lifted Shinso’s head off my knee so I could fold a leg under me. He looked up at me when I placed it back down. I rolled my neck and leant back into the couch. I saw a look in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes darted between me and Denki.

“Come on.” He whispered. He nudged me with his shoulder. He knew that I wanted to be more intimate with Denki but was to shy. He kept pestering me about just going for it but I still wouldn’t.

“Shinso.” I snapped, shaking my head. He gave me an irritated look. We started silently argued for a minute before I was hit with a pillow at full speed. I yelped and somehow caught the pillow. I looked ahead dazed before looking around. I saw Jiro glaring lightly at me. She motioned towards Denki too. She knew too. I sighed before looking at Denki. He was giving me a confused but I just shook my head. I took the pillow though and smacked Shinso before throwing the pillow behind me.

“Bitch.” He groaned before sitting forward and away from me. I didn’t react much because I was in my head. I took a big breath before looking at Denki. He had shifted and had straitened up and had folded his knee up and was leaning an elbow on it. His other hands was laying relaxed on his thigh.

“Denki.” He turned toward me. I smiled at him and he gave me one back. “I um… I.” I stuttered and blushed. I looked down quick and I heard him chuckle. I took a big breath before looking at his hand. I lifted my hand and before backing out, I reached for his hand. I felt him tense up. I was about to retract my hand but he suddenly tightened his grip.

“Finally.” I heard Shinso whisper. I bit my lip and looked at Denki. He was blushing madly but smiling none the less. He looked over at me and then at our hands. He started bouncing a little bit. I looked back at the TV and out of the corner of my eye I was him fist pump a little. He was really excited and was still bouncing. All of a sudden, a small jolt of voltage was sent through his hand.

“Shit!” I said. Denki ripped his hand away and looked at me scared. I saw tears well up in his eyes. I started to shake my head and went to reach for him but he jerked away. He stood up and jumped over the back of the couch, running away. “Denki! Wait!”

“What’s going on?” The others noticed the commotion. They started asking questions but I ignored them to go after the sparky boy. He had run out of the building. I ran out and looked around. I caught sight of his yellow hair. He was running to the back of the main building on campus. I followed and ran onto the PE grounds.

“Denki!!” I yelled. I cupped my hands over my mouth and yelled again. I got no response.

“What are you doing?” I jumped and turned to see All Might. I held my hand to my chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. I was just looking for Denki. He ran this way but I lost him.” I looked around.

“Oh I saw Young Kaminari run into the equipment room just a few minutes ago.” He pointed in that direction. I smiled and bowed.

“Thank you so much. All Might! Please excuse me.” I ran off but I heard him chuckle as he gave me a farewell. I ran up to the door and skidded to a stop before gently opening the door.

“Stupid!” I flinched when I heard Denki yell at himself. I walk in silently and looked around the corner to see him pacing. I watched for a moment, leaning against the wall. “I can’t believe I let that happen. I can’t even control my quirk for the sake of holding my own girlfriends hand! Damn, maybe Bakugo’s right. Maybe I am just a dunce.”

“Denki.” I whispered. He sat back against a stack of training mats, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“God, they be so disappointed. They can’t even…” He trailed off with a sigh. I silently moved from the wall and walked over to him. I gently grabbed the wrist that he was had by his face and pulled it away. He jumped but calmed down when he saw me. Without a word, I stepped closer and intertwined my hand with his.

“I am far from disappointed.” I said in honesty after a few minutes of silence. I set my free hand on his cheek, running my thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “You are not a dunce. Far from it. And you know that Bakugo doesn’t really mean it. You’re extremely smart. You just have a laid back personality and there is nothing wrong with that.”

“But I shocked you. I can’t even hold your hand properly. I could hurt you or full on electrocute you…” He began to ramble on like Midoriya. I chuckle.

“Denki. Denki. Denki!” I gripped his cheek tightly. He stopped and looked at me. “You’ve been holding my hand for over 5 minutes and nothing has happened. See?” I lifted our hands into view. He stared and I saw him relaxing. A smiled crept onto his face.

“You’re right.” He laughed with watery eyes. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He gripped hand tight before bringing it to his lips.

“And I don’t mind a shock or two here and there. If I did, I wouldn’t be dating a literal tesla coil.” I said. He laughed, eyes scrunching.

“Telsa coil, huh?” He asked. I nodded. “Hmm. I like that. Maybe I should change my hero name to that.”

“No.” I brushed his hair back. “To the world, you’re Chargebolt. You’re my telsa coil, no one elses.” I said with a mach glared. He nodded and nuzzled into my hand. “Now come on.” I stepped back and pulled him back with me. He followed me out of the equipment room. We walked back to the Heights Alliance.

“I am sorry.” He said. He was rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “I was just so excited to finally be holding hands with you that my excitement came out in tiny sparks I guess.”

“It is okay, Denks. I wasn’t hurt at all. I was just surprised that it happened.” I told him. He looked relieved and looked it up.

“Looks like we’re back. I really don’t want to go back in.” I could see the blush of embarrassment. I looked around and an idea came to mind.

“How about we go star gazing in the courtyard?” His eyes lit up and nodded eagerly. We walked around back instead of through the common room. We sat down at in a nice spot and just watched the stars. We were laid back and I was starting to fall asleep.

“You’re so cute.” He whispered. I turned over onto my side and looked at him through my eyelashes. He reached over and traced a knuckle over my cheek. “You and your pretty eyes.” We stared at each other in the eyes. A cold breeze blew over us that caused me to shiver. “It’s getting cold out/ How about we go back inside?”

“Okay.” He got up and reached out for me. I grabbed both of his hands in mine and he pulled me up easy. We end up standing chest to chest. I blushed and quickly pecked his cheek before taking off.

“H-hey! Get back here!” He stuttered. I laughed as he ran after me.

Tags: @spicy-therapist-mom

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years ago

Note

Yes ! Can you maybe do an imagine where the reader breaks up with Will because they dont think they’re good enough for him ?? But with a happy ending where they get back together because he really wants to be with them

Of course, sweet Anon!😊 Man, y'all really love angst lmao In retrospect, this might be a bit too angsty😬I blame Bo Burnham's Inside

This imagine is going to be really depressing, like a lot. There will be mentions of attempted suicide and self harm so, SEVERE TRIGGER WARNING.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been over a year since you broke up with Will.

You'd never felt more depressed in your life, but you thought it was the right decision at the time. What bullshit that turned out to be...

Your crippling insecurity forced your mind to think you didn't deserve to have someone as amazing as Will, he was so thoughtful and you were so, well, so dependent.

You weren't in the best stage of your life when you met Will, you were in a really dark place and you had even more trouble getting out of it. You haven't really made much progress since then, but you tried.

You just wanted to feel better for once. Every day, you just felt like you were drowning and taking Will with you.

He was your rock, and he made sure that he was right beside you every time you felt bad. Of course, being an actor, he had to go away sometimes and you always told him that you'd be fine. You weren't, of course, but you were always so happy for him whenever he'd book a film or TV show because it made him happy.

There were days you just felt numb, mostly when Will wasn't with you. Those days you'd just lay in your bed, sob uncontrollably until the exhaustion would put you to sleep.

Will felt helpless, and you could always see it on his face. He was worried about you, he wanted to help you, but it wasn't something that he could change or do anything about. Him worrying about you day and night made you feel even worse, that was not what you wanted for him. He deserved to be with something that lifted him up and encouraged him, not someone who's depressing all the time and unintentionally bringing him down with them. No...you didn't want that for him at all.

It was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier to break up with him.

Will's heartbroken face would forever be engrained in your mind, but you kept telling yourself it was in his best interest.

You cried the hardest you ever cried in your entire life. You loved him so much, you didn't want to let him go, but you couldn't let your toxicity ruin his life. And you honestly thought that it would get better in time, but it only made your mental state deteriorate ever more.

One night, when the pain got too hard to handle, you took and broke your shaving razors, taking out the blades.

In hindsight, you really wished you hadn't, you felt embarrassed about it for the longest time. But trying to look on the bright side, it did force you to finally get the professional help you needed. Therapy, medication, the whole nine yards. You kicked yourself for not getting yourself help sooner, because you felt better now that you were going to therapy.

You still struggled a lot, but you knew once you found the right medication, it would become more bearable, and it did eventually. It took a lot of hard work.

You thought about Will a lot, what he was up to, if he found someone else that he loved. The thought was painful, but all you wanted for him was to find true happiness.

One day, you decided to go out to a coffee shop one morning, as opposed to just Postmateing yourself like you normally did. Your therapist did say you needed to get out more, so you took their advice.

You walked through town, a simple little coffee shop catching your eye. The name sounded familiar to you, though you couldn't quite place why. You didn't think you'd been to this place before, you usually made your own coffee, but you wanted to give it a try.

The light ring of a bell filled your ears as you opened the front door. It was a really cold morning, so the warm heat hitting your skin and inhaling the strong smell of coffee and freshly made bakeries put a small smile on your face.

You were thankful that there wasn't a line, possibly to early in the morning, maybe you got there before the usual early birds. Though looking around, it was a small place, only a few book readers scattered amongst the small tables that were set up opposite of the counter where you ordered.

While waiting for your coffee, a wall full of art caught your eye. You walked closer to look at all the pieces, all of them painted by customers. Hmm, cute...

You didn't really acknowledge the bell ringing once more, signaling an arrival of another customer, to focused on the pretty art.

"Hey!" You heard one of the workers say cheerfully, probably addressing the new customer. "Your usual, Will?"

Your smile dropped. Ha, what are the odds, right?

"Yep, of course. Thank you."

Then, your heart dropped.

You recognized that voice anywhere. Now you knew why this shop sounded so familiar, it was Will's favorite place to get coffee, he had mentioned it to you before. Of course, of all the coffee places in town, you had to pick this one.

You slowly turned around, your heart beating out of your chest and almost coming to a complete stop once you laid eyes on his face. That face you always thought about, even in your dreams. "Wi-"

"Y/n!" You cringed as the coffee shop worker called out your name, telling you that your coffee was ready.

Will immediately snapped his gaze over to you, clearly having trouble believing it was actually you. You stood there awkwardly, having a hard time reading his expression. Was he mad? Sad? Happy?

"Y/n." Will almost whispered, taking a couple steps closer to you.

Will looked the same, just as handsome as when you last saw him. His eyes were locked onto you, looking you over in awe. He thought you looked so much healthier now, but always thinking that you look stunning, no matter the circumstance.

"How...how are you?" Will started, a small smile finally stretching across his lips. "You look," He chuckled softly, "amazing."

You looked down slightly when your face started to burn, all of your blood seeming to rush right to your face from one simple compliment. "Thank you." You said sheepishly. "You look amazing too, as usual."

Now it was Will's turn to blush, his easy to spot with his fair complexion. "Uh, do you wanna, maybe, sit down? Or we could go somewhere else, if you want to, that is. Don't feel pressured or anything." He rambled.

You smiled. "Yeah, sure." You grabbed your coffee and joined Will at the table he chose to sit at. "So, uh, how've you been?" You asked, taking tiny sips of your hot drink.

"Good, good. I'll be filming a new project soon, so that'll be fun." Will paused for a beat, then sighing despairingly . "I've been, uh, thinking about you. A lot."

"I've been thinking about you too."

"I kinda lied. I am filming something soon but, I haven't been good. Ever since we broke up, life just...kind of feels a bit grey now."

You frowned, biting your lip hard to keep tears from welling up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered. "I thought you'd be better off without me to drag you down. I was such a burden."

Will furrowed his brows, shaking his head with a frown. "No. You weren't dragging me down, I loved you, Y/n. I would've done anything for you. I know that you struggled a lot with your mental health, but I wanted to be with you through all that. I never thought you were a burden, not for a second."

"I just," You wiped an unwanted tear from your cheek, "I don't think I was ready to be in a relationship then. I've been working really hard on my health and now that I have a clearer mindset, I think it was probably for the best that I broke up with you when I did."

Will took a deep breath. "I respect that. I do. I'm happy for you, that you're better now. I don't want this to come off as selfish...but I still love you. I want to be with you. But I understand if you can't be in a relationship right now. I'll wait for you, as long as it takes if you'll let me."

You blushed furiously once more. At this point, you practically wanted to throw yourself at this man. You didn't care if it didn't work out again, you still wanted him, badly.

"I still love you too, Will. Always have."

Will smiled softly. "I don't want you to be my partner again if you're not ready."

"I don't know if I am, I'm still working on myself, but...goddamn I wanna kiss you so bad right now." You said, eliciting another blush and a shy laugh from Will.

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gent as you smiled widely at him, leaning closer. You almost shivered as his cold hands reached over to delicately trace your jawline, the gesture automatically putting you in a sort of trance where you could only look into his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you." Will giggled, fully cupping the side of your jaw. "May I?"

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gently connecting your lips with his.

Over a year of wanting and missing Will, you ignored your dislike of PDA, you've needed this for so long. The spark you always felt when you kissed him was still there, still giving you goosebumps along with an intense desire you definitely couldn't act on in this coffee shop.

Will pulled away, only to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes closed just relishing in the moment. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too." You chuckled breathlessly.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to rush back into things. We can take it slow if that's what you want."

This man was always such a gentleman, but it just made you even more eager to take him home with you.

"Right now, I don't think I'm capable of taking things slow." You said, a almost seductive tone to your voice.

Will smiled playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's absolutely not taking things slow."

"How about we go to my place? Make up all the lost time?" You asked not as confidently, the feeling of rejection making you nervous, but Will smiled gently, taking a hold of your hand and kissing you once more.

"Lead the way."

~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully it wasn't too depressing and dark in the beginning.

#will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #tw depression #tw sh #trigger warning

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writingsfromhome · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely.

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #detective!harry #dci!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #writingsfromhome #fic #au #harry styles x reader #oop this took a while to get out #but i'm so excited for pt3 #:)

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infinitegalahad · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!

WASHING MACHINE HEART

Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Word-Count: 4.8k

WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a

Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.

Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.

His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.

It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.

Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.

“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.

Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.

“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”

“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.

One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”

You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”

“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.

Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”

The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.

“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.

“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.

“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.

“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.

Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.

“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.

You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”

Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”

“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”

“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”

Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.

“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”

Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.

“You make everyday worth living.”

You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.

“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.

“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.

“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”

You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”

The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.

“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”

“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”

You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.

But the one thing-Lewis’s love.

Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.

That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.

The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.

“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.

“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”

“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”

Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.

“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.

Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn’t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”

“Myself.”

“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”

The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.

“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.

“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.

“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”

“And what is it?”

“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”

The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.

Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.

You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.

Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.

“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.

“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.

“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”

“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”

The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.

Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”

Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.

Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.

Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.

“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.

Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”

That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.

“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.

You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.

“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”

Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”

“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”

Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.

Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”

There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.

He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.

““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.

“Why’d you stop, my dear?”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”

The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.

“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”

“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”

Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.

A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”

Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.

“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.

“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.

“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”

Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.

“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”

Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.

“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”

“She is?” You hummed.

“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”

You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.

#carrie writes #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers masterlist #lewis nixon headcanon

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scullydubois · 3 years ago

Note

What about a time when mulder meets up with scully to go for a walk with queequeg?

i may have gone overboard here, but how could i not? this prompt is so precious, thank you.

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

Friday Night with Queequeg, 2.4k--set in season three

“I can’t, Mulder,” his partner insists, her voice dialed up a few intervals for dramatic effect. “I’ve got Queequeg to worry about.”

Mulder drops his Washington Nationals tickets on the desk in disappointment. How lame to be overshadowed by a dog. “That fluffy little guy?” he whines. “Or girl, I'm not sure.”

“He’s a boy.”

“Okay well, he reminds me of one of those Tamagotchi things, have you seen the commercial?” Mulder rambles while shuffling various stray papers from his desk into a single incoherent stack. He’s careful not to sweep the tickets into it. “It’s a pocket pet--”

“I know what it is, Mulder. I have a godson.”

“And is Queequeg not just a glorified version of one of those?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that. He needs food and attention and care. But, in case you didn’t know, he is also real and capable of giving much of that back to you.”

“Eh, reciprocated affection is overrated,” Mulder jokes, though life would be a lot damn easier if he believed that. “And it’s one of the few Fridays where we’re not traveling or jet-lagged or wholly tired of each other.”

Scully purses her lips. “I see significantly less of Queequeg per week than I do you,” she mutters, and Mulder wonders whether some of her feigned contempt might be genuine. He’s used to being subtly disliked, but the thought sure makes him sad.

Seeing the passion in his face dissolve, Scully realizes that he’s backing down. It’s not like him to back down, no matter how frivolous the issue is. She knows this about him if she knows anything. It’s as if he’s giving up, and that strikes her more than anything.

“Haven’t you ever had a dog, Mulder?” she asks, ignoring the chair in front of her to perch on the edge of his desk.

“Once. After Samantha.” He laughs out of pure scorn. “I think it was my parents’ way of trying to replace her.”

Scully frowns. She should know by now that any journey into his past will turn into a probe of his eternal wound, and that’s no fault of his own.

“What was its name? And were you fond of it?” Scully feels like a therapist--hopefully a kind and supportive one.

“Sparky. I’ve got no clue where the name came from, or the dog for that matter. He was just kinda there one day when I got home from school. And then in a few months, he was gone in the same way. Taken to my uncle’s cause my parents couldn’t stand all the upkeep.”

A thought pops into Scully’s head that is evidently shared by her partner. “No, he didn’t “go live on a farm’ or whatever, I was old enough not to fall for that,” Mulder insists. “He really did go live with my uncle. Lived like seven more years.”

Scully raises an eyebrow. “But did you like him? Were you sad when he was gone?”

“I was sad about a lot of things at the time, Scully.” He opens his desk drawer and pops a piece of gum in his mouth. He’s out of sunflower seeds. “But about the dog? Eh, he was fine to have around but it wasn’t a quintessential boy and his dog moment. He was already a couple years old and well into his grumpy old man phase, if I remember correctly. And he was a mutt, so I think my parents hated him because he didn’t match the furniture.”

“Mmm.” Scully rolls her tongue over the roof of her mouth. It would be a shame to put Mulder through this whole conversation only to insist that she can’t attend the game. But she wasn’t just making excuses. Queeqeug has been home alone all day. and she always takes him for a walk when she gets home from work. He’s used to their routine now, sitting there at the door when she unlocks it like he’s got an alarm set. He gets his dinner when they get back home and falls soundly asleep. Scully’s convinced this is the only thing keeping him from rebelling for being on his own for ten hours a day, and she doesn’t want to test that theory.

Mulder glances at the office clock. 5:46. First pitch is at 7:05.

“How about this...” He props his feet up on the desk to give himself the air of confidence that he’s lacking. “I’ll run over to your place, walk him, make sure he does his business...the whole shebang. You can finish up here then take a taxi to the park, and I’ll meet you there. Sound good?”

The edges of Scully’s lips turn downward. Mulder notes that today, they are brushed over with a very nice coral. Must be a new shade.

“Do you really care that much about me attending this game?”

Mulder shrugs. Yes he does, but he’ll be nonchalant about it. “I bought the tickets cheap through a newspaper ad. I just thought it would be nice for the two of us to do something that’s not chasing phantoms.”

“Phantoms?” Scully’s left eyebrow arches. “Have I finally broken your spirit?”

Mulder smirks. “Sorry, I thought flattery might get me somewhere here.”

Scully taps a heel against the ugly linoleum floor. He’s so adamant about this...boyhood loves stick, she supposes.

“If it means that much to you, go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when you’re late for the start of the game. Queequeg takes his time.”

Mulder claps his hands together. “That’s fine, that’s fine!” Surely he can hurry the canine up. “You take one ticket and head to the seats, and I’ll find you.”

Scully pulls her lips into a thin line, a hint of humor gleaming in her eyes. “Okay, Mulder. Do you have your key?”

He nods, pulls on his jacket, and edges toward the door. “See you there, Scully!”

“Bye.” Scully smiles at the empty office. Her partner’s enthusiasm is endlessly endearing.

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

Mulder has no time to register that he has no clue where Queequeg’s leash is, or if he’s supposed to bring some sort of bag to pick up any...ehm, droppings, or if there’s some special trick to walking a dog that makes it look easy when it’s secretly hard. In fact, he can’t recall ever walking Sparky. Thirty years old and never walked a dog before...surely that qualifies him for the Guinness World Record books.

Queequeg is alert at the door when Mulder opens it, and he’s glad the thing is more teddy bear than canine--he doesn’t have to deal with any barking or biting. He checks the coat rack for a leash, then begins rummaging around in the front table when he comes up short. It’s all old issues of girly magazines he never would have expected Scully to subscribe to.

Begrudgingly, he looks into Queequeg’s beady eyes. “Where’s your leash, boy? You wanna go for a walk? Show me where your leash is.” He uses a baby voice he didn’t even know he had.

Queequeg does nothing but paw the ground in annoyance.

“I know the feeling,” Mulder quips. He pulls out his phone and chooses Scully’s name from the speed dial list.

It rings and rings, then goes to voicemail. Mulder ends the call, grumbles, then tries the office number instead. She picks up after one ring.

“Hello?” her dainty voice projects through the line.

“Scully, you haven’t left yet?”

“I was just locking up the desk. Is there a problem?” she asks like she knew there would be.

“I can’t find Queequeg’s leash.”

“It’s by the pantry, next to his treats.”

Mulder sighs, heads into the kitchen. “And I suppose I have to take his treats too?”

“Uh-huh. And there’s plastic grocery bags in there that you can use to clean up after him.”

Mulder opens the pantry, sees the hoard. “I feared so.”

“We always go left down the block,” Scully tells her partner. “There’s a patch of grass that way he likes to chew on.”

“And how much does he pay you for such indelible service?” Scully doesn’t listen to a word he says, but she’s at the dog’s beck and call apparently.

There’s a bit of silence as Scully decides not to reply with a smartass remark. Then--”I’m leaving the office now,” she murmurs into the phone. “Better hurry up or I’ll beat you there.”

During this teasing, Mulder attached Queequeg’s leash to his collar. Now, as he tries to lead him into the living room, the dog refuses to move.

“Uh, Scully?”

“Yes?”

“I put his leash on, but Queequeg won’t budge.”

“Do you have the treats?”

Mulder shakes the treat bag and makes kissy noises to encourage the canine. (How humiliating.) Still, nothing.

“He doesn’t want to come with me,” Mulder says. “Even the treats won’t lure him over.”

“Are you sure it’s the right treats?” Scully asks.

“Since when are dogs picky about their treats? Treats are treats. And these are the only ones in the pantry.”

“Huh.”

“If you’re rolling your eyes, I can’t see it,” Mulder mutters.

“I’m not rolling my eyes, I just--we’ve never had this problem.”

“Has anyone else walked him?” Mulder wiggles the leash, which does nothing.

“My mom.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t like men,” Mulder remarks.

“He lived with Clyde Bruckman…”

“Exactly.”

Scully takes a quick exhale. He has a point. “I’ll head over, okay? But I doubt we’ll make the game.”

“We’ll see.” Mulder sighs. He’s being...well, cockblocked isn’t the right word for it--but something like that--by a dog.

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

Scully arrives half an hour later to find Mulder crouched on the kitchen floor rubbing Queequeg’s belly.

“Am I interrupting something?” she teases. The dog rolls over and leaps into excitement at the sound of her voice, abandoning Mulder altogether.

“Hi buddy.” She scratches his ears and dodges his attempts to lick her face. “You ready to go for a walk?”

Queequeg whimpers and sits as if she commanded him to.

Scully looks to Mulder with a brilliant, taunting smile. “I think he’s ready.”

Mulder stands up, every disk in his back rebelling against him. “That thing--” Mulder jabs a finger in Queequeg’s direction--”has a Jekyll and Hyde situation going on.”

“Really, cause you seemed to be having a great time until I came in.”

“No, no, no, don’t spin this. I had to get down on the kitchen floor because he wouldn’t move! What was I supposed to do while we were waiting for you, ignore him?”

Scully shrugs, tries to hide her smirk. “Well, if you were so bothered by him…”

“Whatever, whatever. Let’s just go for the walk, okay? I don’t want to miss this game, it’s against the Red Sox. It should be good.”

Scully takes Queequeg’s leash from her partner, gestures for him to go ahead. “After you.”

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

It’s a beautiful spring night--the perfect occasion for a baseball game, Scully will give Mulder that. The sun is drifting down the cloudless horizon, and the chill that has hung in the air for months is finally admitting defeat. The sidewalk is crowded with other dogs and their humans, eager to end the week on such a lovely note.

Queequeg trots blissfully in the usual direction. Scully lengthens her stride to keep up with him--for once she and Mulder are walking at the same pace.

“So this is DC on a Friday night, huh?” Mulder says, glancing around at their fellow pedestrians and bicyclists.

Scully nods. “If you got out of the office before seven, you’d know.”

“Doubtful. My usual impression of DC on a Friday night is the traffic on the 14th Street bridge, and I’m pretty sure I can witness that at all hours.”

Scully allows herself a sidelong glance at her partner. She had never realized someone could be too dedicated until she met Mulder.

“Have you ever considered getting a pet?” she asks tentatively.

His gaze snaps to her. He chuckles and sticks his hands in his pockets. “My complex has a hefty monthly pet fee. Rent is already bad enough.”

“Well it’s not like you go out often…” Scully starts, knowing this is short of a compliment. “You’re not a big spender, surely you have the extra cash on hand.”

“Ha, thanks,” Mulder responds. “Should I put that on my resume?”

“I just mean that…” Queequeg finds his beloved patch of grass, and they pause to let him chomp at it. “...you could use the companionship of a dog. Or cat, if that strikes your fancy.”

“I have enough companionship, Scully. More than I know what to do with. Have you heard my answering machine?”

“A woman from an 800 line is not companionship, Mulder. And you never actually answer any of your messages. Friends don’t count if you never see them.”

“Ouch.” Queequeg finishes up, and they resume the walk. “And what are your plans this weekend, Scully?” he asks, hoping to catch her in her own hypocrisy.

“As a matter of fact, I’m going to visit my mother tomorrow afternoon.”

Mulder busts out laughing. “You’re a real party girl!”

She ignores him, focusing on Queequeg. “But you get my point, don’t you? It’s not good to be alone all the time.”

“I seem to recall being told that we spend more time together than you and your dog,” Mulder wisecracks.

“That’s different,” Scully swears. “That’s work.”

“That’s the bulk of modern life, my dear.” He delivers this statement in an old-timey mid-Atlantic accent like some leading man of the 40s. It makes Scully smile.

“I have an idea,” she says, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh boy.” Mulder glances at his watch. 6:51. Damn it. “We’re gonna miss the game.”

Scully nods. “Let’s go to the animal shelter instead.”

Mulder stops. It makes Queequeg, and therefore Scully, stop too. “What?”

“You could make some dog very happy, you know. And Queequeg would have a playmate...I think it would be really good for you, Mulder.”

“Come on, I can’t just adopt a dog on a whim.”

“I did.”

“Shit.”

Scully laughs. “You’re realizing there’s no way out of this, aren’t you?”

Mulder grins. “Yeah, I--” He looks down and sees Queequeg taking a dump in the middle of the sidewalk. Scully readies the plastic bag she brought, then bends down and scoops the pile up like it’s nothing.

Mulder screws up his face. “On second thought…”

“Nuh-uh.” Scully ties the bag and taps it against Mulder’s arm. “You’re empty-handed, take this. It’ll be good practice.”

Mulder frowns but takes the bag. His partner’s huge smile is not lost on him, and it makes him smile despite himself. She knows how to get what she wants, and he has a feeling this one will benefit him too.

#txf fic #txf prompt #the x-files #txf #mine

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