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catzula · 4 years ago

Text

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument.

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down."

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!"

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth.

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food.

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-"

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious.

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-.

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you.

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge.

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure."

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell.

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in.

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were.

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water.

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous?

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower.

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?"

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing.

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities?

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown.

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu."

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde.

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room.

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up.

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged.

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously.

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips.

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with."

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first."

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here."

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet.

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had.

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure."

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother.

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay.

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen.

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it.

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him.

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing.

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people."

It was true.

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing.

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!"

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

#osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines

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zepskies · 5 months ago

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No worries, hun! I'm so glad you got a chance to read this (and thank you right off the bat for such a lovely review!!! 😍😍)

Yes she finally remembered!!

You did say that the photos are gonna play a bigger role and they did. Poor girl had to go through such pain to get to her memories, but I'm sooooooo happy she finally remembered.

Yeeeep I warned ya! Poor thing really did go through it, but Ben was with her for every moment. 💚

Quick question, is this inspired by the actors love for backgammon matches behind the scenes?]

Yes it is!! I'm so glad you caught that. 😘

This is the one that did the job. The photo where their love is clearly visible to every single person in the club and later everyone who's seen the photo. Ofc it had to be this photo.

I was rereading Love Actually to decide which photo would trigger her memory, and I was like, "yep it has to be this one." 🥲

Her situation made Ben terrified. Poor guy, he really had no idea what was going on. He hates feeling helpless and both times he's felt that way has been with her. He really can't lose her, her won't let her die. He'll literally do anything right now to get her to be better.

If Ben hates anything, it's weakness. Specifically being/feeling weak. And in this moment, he does. But he's also determined to do something that will hopefully help her. 💙

The realization that she forgot Ben and he took care her, was so tender and gentle, gave into almost all her wants, didn't fight back when she was irritated, it's a huge realization.

Yeah, especially because they're still pretty new in their relationship. Even though it's only been about a year for them, and she's been hurt before, he's never had to take care of her in this way. She finds that Ben is capable of tenderness (at least for her loll), and being a considerate partner.

I'm glad she got the blood transfusion (who's results will be very fruitious in the future) and is super strong because.... ofc the SMUT. Damn girl, you NEVER disappoint 🥵🥵🥵.

Haha yesss considering we already know what happens in Strong as Blood, this blood transfusion is just another element adding to the affects of being exposed to Ben's supe DNA.

As for the sexy bits, I do my best! 😜 Smut writing is still by far one of my biggest challenges as a writer. 😆 BUT I'm so glad you enjoyed it loll.

Between all the intensity and passion, Ben is so tender with her. Even in the library when she gor her memories back, and now, in his mind, she's a fragile person. After seeing her battered and bruised body, he can't allow himself to, even if it's during sex, cause her any more pain. They talked about it in Checkerboard, and there he saw the bruises, and said he'll go slow, but now he has truly realized the gravity of the situation. He's being extra extra soft and gentle. And ofc he got used to not being a little rough taking care of her, he HAD to. And got used to it, why is he such a sweetheart.

Ahh I'm so happy you brought it back to Checkerboard! Because yes, that one-shot sets the threads of him reminding himself that he has the power to break her (something he hasn't cared too much about before he met her). Especially after this ordeal, he had to train his brain to treat her with even more care out of sheer necessity. But now, she's able to remind him that "she can take it," like you said, and they really needed to reconnect in this way. 💞

He never wants to that to happen ever again. Never wants to see her in that way, in that condition again. It was a nightmare, and they have come out of it he just wants to keep it in the past and move forward.

So his anger and frustration in Calculated Risks makes even more sense, right? He's very protective of her (and later Lila) not only because he loves her, but because he has to be protective. It's both practical and emotional for him -- whether he would outwardly admit it that way or not lol.

Ben talking about mental stability is huge. And he's not just asking her for the sake of it, but he knows what it feels like. He has experienced it, still does sometimes.

Right?! I thought asking about her frame of mind/mental health would be a big step of character growth for him. Not just taking her words at face value that she's "fine." Or even having his suspicions deep down that she's going through it mentally, but assuming that she'll take care of herself, or coming to him when she has a problem (a la In the Dark).

He's been waiting to say this to her since the beginning. The realization that those bastards wanted him, that she's suffering because of him, paying for his sins, the guilt has been eating him alive, he'll forgive him, even if she tells him a hundred times that it wasn't his fault.

We all know Ben struggled with saying "I'm sorry" loll, but this was def his way of doing so. That guilt has weighed heavy on him for the past few months, again, whether he wants to admit it or not. (It's tough being a person with actual feelings of remorse, ain't it, Ben? 😅)

Ofc he thinks he doesn't deserve her love and her trust.

Yeah, but she doesn't let him turn away from her when she says it. Because she's come this far with him, and she's not going to let him pull away from her emotionally because of this.

HE SAID IT. I've been WAITING for his since the time he didn't say it back in the 1st chapter. He regretted not saying it. And now he got his chance. He's learned his lesson. He might not say it enough, but he does say it when it matters the most. And those comparisons are cute. She truly is it for him and he's never letting her go.

Ahh yep! It's still hard for Ben to "say it" at this stage of their relationship, but he absolutely regretted not saying it after what happened. Then he held back out of fear of her rejecting him, not being ready to hear that from him without her memories. Lol I'm glad you liked those little comparisons he gave. 😂 They're not the most romantic, but his idea gets across. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Zep, thank you soooo much for this fic. It was truly one hell of a ride. I loved it to bits. I cannot tell you how much I love your writing. The small details you add, the way you write the emotions, you make me feel every single thing that the character is feeling, and that just goes on to show how amazing of a writer you are. I absolutely love your Ben. I've said this before and I'll say it again, I love he's so true to the character we saw on the show.

Oh God, you're making me tear up, love! 🥹🥹

I know we're "just writing fanfic" out here, but I do really put my all into everything I write. I want to be authentic to the characters and to the story I'm trying to tell. I'm very glad that you think that comes through in my writing, particularly in Ben/SB's characterization, because he's a tricky character to nail down. THANK YOU so very much for your love and support. I so appreciate you and these lovely words!! 🥰💕💕

(And don't worry, I'm sure I'm not done with these two. It's always "see you later," not goodbye with the BMD-verse. 💚)

Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore.

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you.

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted.

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Burke on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground.

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here?

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced.

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes.

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked.

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought.

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things.

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real.

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little.

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours.

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again.

Dr. Burke arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand through your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow.

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt.

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you.

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead.

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine.

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really.

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes.

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said.

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you.

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point.

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.”

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last.

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth.

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest.

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture motion with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied.

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #wake me up feedback #lovely review!!

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mansions-maiden · 4 years ago

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Helloww, I'm here for 3rd request xD

Don't know you like it or not but hw abt MC is sweet, ladylike, polite, never complained, and lovely girl but someday...when comte hold a banquet and yeps mc has low tolerance alcohol and got drunk so herself became 180° 😂😂😂

She started laughing like maniac, shouting and scold the residents like asian mom 😂.

For example : (arthur) DO YOU KNOW WE CALL A HUMAN TYPE LIKE YOU A THOT ?! FROM NOW I'LL CALL YOU ARTHOT

(isaac) OII YOU MINI APPLE BOI, HOW CAN YOU INVENTED CALCULUS?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PRESSURE YOU GIVE TO FUTURE STUDENTS ? I CAN'T EVEN ENJOYED MY SCHOOL LIFE !! YOU MUST KNOW HOW MUCH I WANTED TO KILL YOU WHEN I WAS IN HIGHSCHOOLER !!

Etc 😂😂 you can make what kind of screaming+scolding she will throw at them 😂😂😂 The residents ? OH I WANT TO SEE THEIR STUPID SHOCKED FACES AHAHAHA. Take your time writing it xD and thank you so much before my darlingzzz 😘😘😘❤️❤️

This is gonna be a fun one to write! Sorry this took so much time to write! I have been busy with school works. But I’ve been writing it slowly. here you go! The words in the brackets (..) indicate that she missed saying these words. I had to write the words in a weird way to show that the words were being slurred by mc.

I tried writing it to your ask .Hope you like it!

Everyone was still wearing surprised Pikachu faces as they were staring at sleeping MC. For never had they expected to see the completely hidden side of her.

Previously, that evening~

MC is sweet and perfect lady, as described in the ask. But little did the vampires know what they would be witnessing that night.

The lord of the mansion decided to throw another banquet that night for the second time in the month being the hedonistic man he is. And all the residents were invited, including MC.

All of them reached the venue that evening and in the banquet halls, many fancy dishes were there, waiting to be eaten by people. There were finest of the wines brought from the far away land and the exotic dishes that were never seen before.

All of the mansion residents gathered in a room(kinda VIP room). All have helped themselves with a drink or two and were chatting away. MC stood against the walls of the room, swirling her champagne glass as she spoke to Sebastian.

All of them continued talking to each other.

After some more time:

MC was still speaking when she began giggling to herself continuously.

All the residents: “???????⁇?”

MC:” if only people knew how crazy these idiots are!! bwahahaha!”

Napoleon: “Who are you talking about MC?”

MC: “ Who am I ... talkin bout? I talk about the grreeat ‘men’ in history.." mc continued giggling as her words began to slur.

Arthur: "And why exactly are we 'idiots'? "

MC: "who in the world knew that all of these men would have crazy sides no one ever knows!" She began laughing again.

All of them looked at each other and then at MC. They noticed her flushed cheeks and understood the situation.

“MC, you are quite drunk. You should stop drinking now..”

“ N-no no no no.. I’m not drunk at all.. see,I only drank 1,2,... 4 glasses of champagne! I want to talk! “

MC: “comte! do you know..? arthot went into the town again yesterday even after you shun himm.. But he didn’t let me tell you...! teach him a lesson comte!” MC told as she pretended that she was holding a gun against Arthotur’s head.

“What in the world is mademoiselle doing?” Jean asked with a confused stare as Sebastian replied, “In our time period, we show guns with our hands in that way.. it’s a type of pretend play..”.

“And..wait what? From when did my name change to Arthot?? Did she misspell it??” Arthur asked looking at her.

“ Lemme think.. nope.. You’re ..definitely Art..Thot! yup! That’s it!”

“Arthur.. come to my room later. I should ‘gently’ remind you the rules of the mansion. “ Arthur gulped audibly as comte stared at him with ‘nothing-is-wrong’ smile.

“Arthur, Dazai-san!! Can (you) come here once??” She suddenly asked them with puppy eyes as they came forward. She tried to reach their faces but couldn’t. She pouted a little and climbed onto the couch behind her.

“OWW!! “ Both of them cried in pain as MC twisted each of Arthur’s and Dazai’s ears. “ how.. how dare youu...! How dare you tease.. Is..Isaac?! the only baby of this mansion! Poor boy! He’s traumatized because of you!”

Isaac having the time of his life: “That’s right mc! How dare they tease a bab- wait! Who do you think you’re calling BABY!??! “ Isaac frowned at his yet another new nick name.

Her feet began wobbling and she fell from the couch onto Mozart. “Aww man!! I fell off the couch!!! Bu..but.. this pillow is soo smoooth and silkyy.. yayy! A nice pillow for me..! “ She said as she snuggled her face into her’pillow’, aka Mozart’s chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Get her off me! mmph!! “ Mozart began yelling but felt a hand clamped over his mouth. “Shh.. doon’t shout.. and you should.. smile like this. Say CHEEEESE! “ MC said, forcing his lips into a smile with her hands.

MC kept giggling even when Napoleon and Leonardo helped Mozart and sat her on the couch.

(I'm sorry I know that her giggling is too much but I don't know how drunk person acts exactly ^^;)

Leonardo: "How much did she even drink? Why didn't you stop her Sebas?"

Sebastian: "I'm sorry master Leonardo.. I didn't expect her to drink these many. I thought she had high alcohol tolerance.."

Leonardo (stretching hand towards mc): "Cara mia, you had enough fun, c'mon you need to rest up in the mansion.

MC shook her head vigorously . "Noooo! I don't want to rest! I want to talk to all of you~! Why don't you go to sleep ...? Da Vinci~. You've got your bed AKA them... (Pointing finger towards floor and wall) . I'll sing a lullaby to youu.. "

She began humming the tone of the lullaby as she dragged Leonardo with her.

" Rock-a-bye, baby, in the tree top

When the wind blows the cradle will rock

When the bough breaks the cradle will fall

Down will come baby, cradle and all"

"Go to bed renaissance man! And ! Your cigarillos are confiscated by me! Hmph! " She took the cigarillos from his pockets and threw them into the dustbin.

"MC! You sing so good! It's as if the angel herself has sung the lullaby.. what song is it?" Vincent asked with an excited and curious gaze.

" the lullaby..? T'is from my own time.. god! I miss my old days in college! " Everybody heard small sniffles in the room then.

They felt helpless seeing her cry. “What’s the matter cherie? Why are you crying? Is something hurting you? “ comte asked approaching her.

“*sniffle* everything is *hic* alright comte *sniffle, hic*. I just remembered *sniffle* my own time and my friends.. I miss them *sniffle* a lot..” Tears began rolling down her soft cheeks. Everyone looked at each other..

“ A-and.. *sniffle* I also remember the days I used to cry and struggle due to math in college. Especially calculus.. And I’ve heard that Isaac was the one wh- *sniffle* who invented it.. Isn’t it Isaac?” She asked Isaac through the glassy eyes.

Isaac: “Y-yeah... it was me..” He lowered his eyes as if he had done a mistake.

MC grabs Isaac’s lapels weakly and shouted, “Why? Why did you invent calculus?! I remember.. I remember the days I used to stay awakee... until late night, scratching my head and struggling to... to solve them!! I... hatee.. you !!” She suddenly released him and pushed him back, making him wobble a little.

Theo: “what the heck hondje?! how much drunk are you!? your mood swings are faster than Arthur’s snarky comments! “

MC: “ Hey Theo! Don’t you dare call me Hondje.. You’re the hondje... Who doesn’t allow anyone to come near your darling brother like a guard dog!”

Theo was very taken back at the sudden backfiring of the nickname.

MC: “Coming to Vincent and Jean! you both are so adorable. You’re the epitome of purity. I love you both so much. muah!” She sent a flying kiss to both and both the men’s cheeks flushed a little.

Napoleon: “Do you have something to say about me MC?” He asked her with curiosity and a little amusement dancing in his eyes.

MC: “ Well, All I can say ..is.. DON’T GO AROUND KISSING PEOPLE! I can’t.. beliieeve that ‘nightmare of Europe’ went around kissing people.. poor soldiers must have been traumatized..! “

“ I can’t believe the nerve of you all to send me to Napoleon’s room early in the morningg! *gasp* Wait !!This means that all of you have been kissed by him.. didn’t you? Hahahaaa!!” she continued laughing clutching her stomach hard.

“Do you know?! There’s a stalker in the mansion who stalks you all 24/7. And he notes it down in his ‘oh no! they didn’t ‘ notebook! It’s none other than our Seba- mmph! “ her voice suddenly came out muffled as Sebas quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Wait-who is that stalker??” Dazai asked in confusion.

“It’s no one Dazai san. She’s just blabbering.” Sebas quickly replied in a stoic expression.

“Wow.. she speaks truth when she’s drunk Will..” Vincent told Shakespeare. “ She is.. After all, a drunk mind speaks a sober heart..” Shakespeare told him.

“Cherie, you must really go back to mansion now. Come, I shall escort you back home..” Comte said worriedly as he approached her.

“ NO! no comte ~ . See, I-I’m perfectly fine~. And you should stop being a mother comte. For the god’s sake, you’re a man! See, look at your reflection! You’re a handsome man! not a beautiful woman! Ditch all these.. motherly duties and enjoy yourself.~! “ She exclaimed as she turned him towards the mirror.

“And you all~! stop being such a child and stressing out poor comte! Okay?! repeat after mee! from this day forth, I shall look after myself and never stress out mama comte!”

“Do you even like us luv?” Arthur asked her with a knowing smile.

“Well, yes.. of course! Even though you all are handful.. I love you all a lot! I love you all this..much (spreading her hands on both sides)..I want to.. stay here..for..ever..”

Suddenly, she felt the world spinning and lost consciousness. But Sebastian caught her by the waist in the nick of time.

The room suddenly fell silent as the blabbering of a drunk resident stopped.

“Well well- tonight’s play was rather very interesting.. But the curtains have fallen in a very unexpected way..” Shakespeare said laughing and breaking the silence.

Sebastian gently laid her on the couch as she slept soundly. “never expected to see this side of cara.. not that I dislike it though..” Leonardo said as he laughed breezily.

“It felt so entertaining to see her talking her like this.. Though it’s not gentlemanly, I would love to invite her to drinks and make her drunk.. I want to hear those words and keep them to myself..” comte said looking at her.

“Let’s take her home and call it a day.. And let’s keep it a secret among ouselves...” Napoleon added. Everyone nodded in agreement and started towards mansion, still laughing at her words. That’s how they came to know the completely hidden side of mc that eventful night.

-------------------- THE END --------------------

i also wanted to ask you guys if my plots up until now were different or if it feels like I’m writing cliché things..how does it feel?

#Ikemenvampire #ikevamp #ikevamp hc #ikemen vampire xreader #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp comte #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp theo #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp jean #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp leo

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war--lords · 5 years ago

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hi im such a fangirl of yours and i screamed softly when i saw your asks were open ,, first off, i'm sorry you feel that your writing quality has dropped, i promise you that it has not!!! 😤😤😤 I would like to request "distracted by the sexy" for Shingen ~ can't wait to see what you do with it ❤️

I was rereading @ikesenhell‘s series Hostile Takeover (PLEASE read it if you haven’t already, I beg you) and I believe that was where I first encountered the term “titty window”. Didn’t know that that’s what it’s called thanks Yesha lol

@mythiica I’m also such a fan of your work, so your saying that means a lot! I hope you enjoy this one.

Also it’s a double update, which in my blog happens as often as a shooting star. I hope this makes your self-quarantine days more bearable.

“I’m not complaining, but you’re looking at me a whole lot.”

The banquet is in full swing—in fact, if the banquet is to be compared to an actual swing, it resembles one that is about to have the chain links snap. Almost everybody is drunk except for the two Uesugi-Takeda patriarchs. The only noticeable difference is the speed at which Kenshin is finishing his drinks (faster, not slower) and the faint flush on Shingen’s face—but that’s only because he hasn’t been drinking a whole lot.

You’re somewhere in between Yukimura’s slightly slurring speech and Sasuke’s unconscious body at the side of the room: almost drunk, but still ahold of your consciousness.

Which is why your answer to Shingen’s question was: “Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t realize I was staring.”

He’s obviously still sharp enough to tell that something’s off, but not in a way that he doesn’t like. So when he opts to go for it and scoot over closer to sit next to you, you feel mild panic rising into your chest at the now almost non-existent distance between the two of you. And speaking of chests…

“You like what you see?” Of course he’s not pulling back any punches. You’re definitely blushing, if you weren’t already pink in the first place. Looks like he’s liking what he’s seeing on your face.

“It’s just that—I never realized you wear your kimono so… loosely.”

“Yes, it’s a habit I’ve garnered since my younger days. I’ve always disliked being suffocated by my own clothes.” And at that he leans backward, propping himself up with a hand and allowing more of the expanse of his chest into view.

Yep, he knows definitely knows what he’s doing. You take another swig of your drink before shooting a disdained look towards him. He laughs, thoroughly enjoying the show like he’s not putting on one himself.

“Thirst traps and their titty windows,” you mutter underneath your breath. Shingen, only understanding the words used in that sentence without context, raises both eyebrows before his expression turns back to looking entertained.

“Explain those concepts for me,” he says, using his other arm to coax you closer to him by the shoulders—something you don’t usually allow, but the alcohol in your system has broken down the wall in you that stops him from getting to close, so you move to sit right next to him. Even from your spot you can feel his warm.

“A thirst trap would be you,” you say, sounding as severe and sober as ever, “and a titty window… is this.”

He watch as you boldly tap your pointer finger to the skin of his bare chest. A shiver travels up his spine at your touch.

“Oh,” is the only response he can muster, for how can he find the strength in him to not bring you into his arms right then and there? He’s not as alcohol-hardy as Kenshin, and the heat from the sake is significantly stripping his self-control away. Defeated, he opts to pinch your cheek with just enough force to surprise you.

“You should quit being so cute,” he says, murmuring your name, “or else this man won’t stop at just showing you his titty window.”

“Shingen,” you pout, and he just has to chuckle at the face that you’re making, masking his surprise as he welcomes you when you walk right into his arms. He pats your back, consoling.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I’m not pressing sexual harassment charges,” comes your muffled reply. He hums with glee.

“Because you’d actually like to see more than this titty window?”

“No, moron. Because I like you a lot.”

At that he freezes, yet his heart begins beating excruciatingly fast he fears for his own life. Something washes over him slowly—half-sobriety, half-realization, and a pinch of some cynicism: you must be saying that only because you’re drunk.

But when you look up at him, the look on your face is dead serious, though your cheeks are red. He feels the inside of his mouth becoming dry—he hasn’t felt this sensation in a long time, this feeling of helplessness from falling so deeply for someone. He notices your eyes, devoid of the usual veil that is evident of intoxication. They’re as clear as day, and so are your words to follow.

“And stop saying titty window so much. It’s weird coming from you.”

He takes another plunge—far too many for the chance of being heartbroken, in his opinion, but never too many for an angel like you—and kisses you. The only thing he can think of as he feels you melt against him is that it’s all worth it.

#shingen #Takeda Shingen #reader insert #gender neutral #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #imagine #imagines #scenario #shingen x reader #1.5k #mythiica

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itscinnafox · 4 years ago

Text

STORY NOTES [akafuri] : By The Next Sunrise

Because I had sooooo much fun doing this with a friend (@miss-cactus) :] (also being the first collab' work that's posted) and had a lot of messy notes and drafts, it's just so precious to me not to ramble about it >w< also plenty of fun times in just 2 and half months despite life biting my ass at the same time, totally my stress relief lol. Also, this story really isn't just some cheesy stuff for the sake of romance. It's genuine love (੭ ˃̣̣̥ ω˂̣̣̥)੭ु⁾⁾

Read the story here in AO3 Summary: On the way to his brother’s house, the spring showers had begun again. With an open palm, he let it collect the cold showers and let it flow out from the cups of his palm. They were chilly despite the warming sun, he looked up at the sky, and wondered what the rain would be like in other parts of the world. Furihata smiled. He would find out. Perhaps by one of the next sunrises.

.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ. Rambles undercut ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧ .☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.

FIRSTLY, @miss-cactus has all my gratitude ♡(ŐωŐ人) without her; AkaFuri will be stranded in France LOL! Seriously, I'll just dump them in some random village in France and just maybe not even finish this story at all even. The time she took to find me a place, translate, edits and also judging me for my description of the place LOL yep... total life saver. With her help it really motivated and inspired me a lot! She's the oil to my car............. you get the idea :] .

BONUS, she's also a translator and translated many amazing works, basically a deity, breathing life back into them. Also, she has original works too :D check 'em out, it's cute! It's in French, but they're easily translated, she's that good! (๑>◡<๑) her AO3

WEIRD FACT, I also had a short break up with my boyfriend of 7 years while writing this. LOL. I was so upset but I got motivated by the similarities, that when he asked for us back I was like 'But-but the similarities though!' but I love him....bleeegh. So I said yes, and we're better than before. YAY!

๑ Story Base ๑ The idea popped when I was listening to 'The sun after washed by spring rain' by Wang Lee Hom on a rainy day on my day off, and florist Akashi just looks so beautiful lol and the rest just came up.... and I really wanted this vibe for AkaFuri something incredibly soft and warm~ just cozy >w< huehue~

This story sets in Spring, spring here, spring there~ Spring is the breath of new life, basically Furi's story lol.

I was also aiming for this story to be short and a bit poetic...... LOL then 11k words later I just gave up and was like: well, if AkaFuri wanna romance then who are we to say no? (Akashi will shave my hair in my sleep lol)

๑ Playlist ๑ Play on Youtube The playlist is by order according to each part within the story. I really love to ramble about this since music is my inspiration for a lot of things and the vibe of the whole premise, section of their development and perspectives.

☆ 11 : 11 by Taeyeon Introducing Furihata's little sob lol and Furi's perspective. After Furihata breaks up with his girlfriend (who again, have no significant in his life what so ever), he goes through the phase on moving forward. It really isn't him moving forward with his feelings for her though, it's just him moving forward from the familiarity of being with her in his life. With her gone, he finally reconnects with who he is, like in this passage : "However, somehow with just a fling of his bag onto the island top threw him years back. He has not always been this tidy and clean." Furihata had basically lived his life to accommodate to those around him. (I wanna stress that Furi wasn't forced into a relationship or was it abusive. It was just a relationship with someone whom Furi had no infatuation for. It just so happens she wanted to date him after the wintercup, and Furi is just like 'yea ok?' but really he didn't exactly thought it through.)

So this is where Furihata moves on from the familiarity. He cries because they dated lol, but really he's just confuse.

☆ The Sun After Washed By Spring Rain by Wang Lee Hom Exactly one year after Furi's break-up. The source of this story idea lol. Also, Furi's perspective. The title and the song is literally what it meant; the sun after the spring rain which brings in new beginnings. I present you, this passage of the story: "Instead, with an open palm, he let it collect the cold showers and let it flow out from the cups of his palm. They were chilly despite the warming sun, he looked up at the sky, and wondered what the rain would be like in other parts of the world."

☆ Reunite by Jordie Power I present you, when Akashi appeared and Furihata's crush on Akashi just awakened and go haywire LOL! In this AU, Furihata has genuine feelings for Akashi. They were long time friends, and there were even a few emphasis of their friendship through high school but because Furihata has a girlfriend and Akashi respected that (although most times, in my brain, is just Akashi crying to Kuroko LOL!)

☆ Passage by Miyano Mamoru Furihata and Akashi's similarities. The song is basically about finding yourself as you age, the experiences you go through as you age (i'm 27 and i'm still confuse lol) Even though this story focuses on Furihata a lot and little less on Akashi except for little hints here and there, Akashi was just as lost as Furihata.

Random thought (as I type this), my boyfriend had told me this before "Even though we don't need each other, and do well on our own. We have friends but it's so different. Is just something different to have someone you love around, so to an extend, I really do need you and to share everything with you, it really makes me happy." it really is something different to have someone by your side especially when you found someone. (p/s: you definitely don't need to be in a relationship to feel complete. you complete yourself okay? :3) Furi and Akashi have been in-love since high-school, they have accomplished a lot on their own but in a passage, they both felt lost and felt like something was 'empty' that was because they were still in-love, and they met each other and truly want to spend their life together and share everything.

☆ Moonlight by Miyano Mamoru Mmmmmm~ the juice. This is Akashi's perspective when he wants to romance Furihata (∗ᵕ̴᷄◡ᵕ̴᷅∗)՞ and of course, sneakily confesses to him. OH MY GOODNESS! THIS IS LITERALLY THE PART THAT I'VE BEEN DYING FOR! and wrote it sooooo many times. I wanted it steamy and a little desperate after their long pent-up-frustration unprofessed love, without making it 'explicit' kind of way. So I hope I captured it right lolol.

☆ Make Me Love You by Taeyeon Furihata's feelings towards Akashi. I was pondering on a song that would fit Furihata's pull towards Akashi and how Akashi makes him feel every time. No other songs seems to feel like then I was randomly humming to this song while I was working and this is perfect! Also, a wonderful vibe.

I think it has been emphasised a lot on how Furihata reacts to Akashi, how he blushes like crazy, how he also subconsciously wants Akashi to make him fall in love with him. Because deep down, as again, Furihata genuinely loves Akashi but he was never daring enough to do it and since Akashi had never showed any indication, so Akashi had to confess in order for Furihata to be brave enough to smack their lips together to confess too.

☆ Je Fais De Toi Mon Essentiel by Emmanuel Moire Infinitely bless @miss-cactus (and her naughty brother lol) for this! This is song is seriously sooooo beautiful ;w; I don't care if reader's don't listen to the playlist, but OH MY GOD! If nobody had listened to this, is seriously missing out. (just as a song in general is beautiful) and the lyrics are just akjsfhakjsfhaf AKASHI'S WORDS! In Akashi's perspective and the song that Akashi sang to when they were in the car, and Cactus chose the perfect line for it ;w;

This song basically concludes everything!!! From their feelings for each other since high-school and all the way until the day they die! It's basically everything I wanted this story to be about, just their pure love for one another and to share their happiness together ;w;

Also, I want to point out in regards of Furihata's decision on staying in France. It's really not just a spontaneous and reckless decision lol. As stated and shown in the story, Furihata is somewhat a successful person with a career, but Furihata has other passion and interest which he seemed to enjoy doing which is photography and Akashi notices this. Even though with a career, at a time some will have a change of heart. So if Furi wants to stay in France with Akashi, he has thought it through enough, and can afford to even live by even without Akashi's money lolol. ๑ Premises ๑ Cactus, without her, AkaFuri will be hobos. I . AM . NOT . KIDDING ! She just whip out the map of France and pin point me to everything! I didn't ask for that but her soul is made from angel clay and she showed me this beautiful town, and I am floored! I didn't feel that much motivation and inspiration before o(≧∇≦o)

So why not Paris? XD 1, I didn't want Paris, I wanted a natural, country/cottage vibe and not the city. 2, proven by Cactus, "actual paris : if you want a cup of coffee you have to give up your wife and your 2 children bc it's way too expensive" (XD actually there's more but those parts are only between us lol) 3, I want to pull Akashi from his usual portrayal of rich and luxurious life style. I mean.... he's still rich, just not lavish in that lifestyle. In here, Akashi's basically bare as a canvas, and painting it on his own. 4, I google mapped Paris.... and if anything, Akashi and Furihata will probably get run over by traffic LOLOL! 5, we hate the crowds lolol and we'd do anything to drown the citizens for AkaFuri to be alone. I'm not even gonna be discreet about this xD.

☆ Mornac-Sur-Seudre This main village, is the most beautiful town picked by Cactus. It's not so 'in the face' although not so splashed in a lot of colours (except for the oyster huts), it is a very vibrant village. We totally fell in love with it. It's quiet, and not a lot of villagers, so it's perfect for AkaFuri to have their stroll hand in hand (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) They're also very famous for their oysters LOL! So yeah..... Akashi fed Furi oysters.... because....it's yummy.... LOL! Video reference here. There's another beautiful video but I can't find it no more. ;; Other references; here, here and here.

☆ Seagull Train Furihata loves train (and so do I) and since the train exists here! WHY THE HELL NOT?! I really love writing this part! I fell in love with the department Cactus picked and everything was so perfect and beautiful. Pictures and videos of it was just so breath taking ;w; and it's a steam train! I've never ride one before, but I have been into exhibits in the train museum. The smell is amazing lol. It's like sniffing my humidifier......but bigger.

This is the train I had saw mostly from it. the 030 T 3 from 1891. It's still operational so choo-choo!!! they go!

Video reference ; here Train reference; here, here Other references; here, here, here and here.

☆ Saintes & Royan These two towns are what's closest to Mornac. I didn't have much on Royan because Saintes had a beautiful charm, so this is where they would have their wonderful date <3 and talk a little bit about their feelings.

Cactus correcting me on the description on the city as I just woke up from my sleep, is seriously a way to wake up in the morning at 5am XD LOLOL!!

There's a few churches too, and has an interesting history from the Roman empire :D really intriguing.

The bridge where they have their little confession in high-school (◡‿◡✿)

This video here, absolutely pretty!

☆ Akashi's Floristry; Fleurs d’acacia Cactus picked out the most beautiful name! "So either L’acacia (just the tree) or Fleurs d’acacia (acacia flowers)" The Acacia because it rhymes with Akashi's name : Aca - as in 'Aka' in Akashi. Ci - as in sea...because they're near the ocean. A - as in....... h(a)m because Cactus said so... and I can't even disagree because it's where Furi getting some of those..... meat....because Akashi's ham.....like his meat.......y'know..... We're very dignified ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)

The design of Akashi's 3 story shop/studio/apartment..... I really don't have any reference, it's all in the head LOLOL! Akashi basically lives in simplicity, his shop all on the ground floor, and the second floor is his art studio where paints and do whatever he wants. Finally the third floor is where he stays, it was wasn't very detailed but it's very spacious and cozy >w<!

☆ The Drive-in theatre Bruuuuuh......the confession is the thing! Akashi sneaking in his opportunity to confess. What more is there need to be said? AkaFuri : mlemlemlemlemlemlemlemlem~

Ohh~ Akashi's pretty Bentley of course.

☆ The Landes The finale of their romance ❀.(*´◡`*)❀. I think we all know what a Volkswagen van looks like LOL! And they had the funky in the van and Akashi took Jean's advice with the bamboo charcoal.

Cactus showed this pretty place and I'm just ヽ(；▽；)ノ

Of course I'd really like to say it again. Furihata's decision to stay with Akashi was really not for the sake of a 'happy ending' or so. They've had deep feelings for each other since high-school and bonded closely, but Akashi didn't show any indication of romantic interest out of respect for Furihata's relationship, and Furihata knowing nothing about Akashi's mutual feelings just kept his feelings to himself. As told by the story, Furihata has a career and stable income. But even though his life is dandy in Tokyo with his job, that doesn't mean it's something he wants to keep pursuing or maintain, as we age, we search for something else to add into our experience. Not to say that we're forever unsatisfied, it's just how life is. We accomplish something, and we move on to another thing, and then another and another. It's really something beautiful about it, and life's just us exploring :] In Akashi and Furihata's case, is that they've already have what they wanted, a life of their own, choosing their own path and what they don't have was each other and now that they've bonded and opened up themselves, they can finally pursue another beautiful life together (>*^▽^*<)

๑ Book, Night on the Galactic Railway by Kenji Miyaza ๑ This is a real book. Also, my favourite! There is an anime as well, but if anyone wants the PDF feel free to drop me a DM and I'll give it to ya'.

In here, the story of the galactic railway impacted their lives a little bit differently. With Akashi the loss of his mother and Furihata to live the last adventure before death.

It is shown they have extreme love for this book, and it really is a beautiful book and there's just endless things to talk about, as it is place in an infinite travel of the train through the galaxy, meeting new people, seeing new things, the mysteries of stories and making meaningful relationship despite never being able to see them again.

The sentiment of Giovanni and Campanella is also similar to Akashi and Furihata. Before anything else, they want to have their adventure together before eventually parting their ways (and i really mean, until death do them apart.)

๑ Other Juices ๑ There some nitty stuff that aren't just there for show xD Well, kind of but there's some sentiments and stuff so...

☆ The Sunflower Maybe because I'm bias to sunflowers LOL! But Furihata is pretty with yellow! Sunflowers with darker brown florets are absolutely beautiful. The pendent I had in mind was literally the one I had when I was a kid (but I donno it's gone now lol). I googled other sunflower pendent but it's ugleh...

It associates with the theme of this story which is 'Sunrise' as in new beginnings, Furihata's fresh start to pursuing the person he actually loves.

Sunflowers also grow towards the sun. They radiate pure joy and positivity. They also symbolise unwavering faith and unconditional love; which is AkaFuri's undying love here despite the years.

Sunflowers are also given to show their deepest to the person, so Akashi gift him a sunflower :3 also because Furi looks pretty in yellow, fight me.

In chinese myth, sunflower are best for business... So with Furi around, Akashi's business will bloom LOLOL!

Funfact: In greek myth, a nymph named Clytie fell deeply in love Apollo, god of the sun. Although Clytie was beautiful by nymph standards, Apollo did not reciprocate her feelings, or acknowledge it. (except Akashi appreciates Furi's love okay?) After days of hopeless devotion, the nymph then transformed herself into a sunflower and constantly turned towards the sun so she could always be with the one she loved (Furihata's chasing sunrises because Akashi is there ok?).

☆ The Happy Street Cats :D This is actually a real book I have, a gift by my teacher before I leave S.Korea. The passage idiom is extracted by this page as well.

The front cover of the book is also yellow.

Yellow : Sunrise + Sunflower.

There's so much yellow in this story LOL!

☆ The Movie Cactus : Idol movie Me : *internal screaming* I swear we are always soooooooo close to making this whole thing crack XD

This scene is a real brain wreck lololol. (Still contemplating if it was romantic enough)

☆ Akashi's Florist number I extracted that number from an oyster restaurant LOLOL! Thankfully Cactus changed it.... we were planning on a crack bonus in which, Furihata orders oysters before calling Akashi.

It didn't happen. But if it did.

Furihata will order some oysters. And not regret it.

*Akashi judging*

☆ French Dialogues + Akashi teaching Furihata French Bless Cactus, she's my happiness now. I have no idea how many weird noises were coming out from our mouths just to understand how the French consonant 'R' sounds like to put it into words LOL! XD Without her, it'd be a disaster.

We were looking at other romantic phrases and found the perfect one ;w;

“Je suis ton bonheur.” means "I am your happiness" (oh god, google translate voice just keeps playing in my head LOLOL! help) Which, what else can be said? LOL Akashi's happy ok? Since this story is from Furihata's perspective, I really wanted to put him into the spot of being a foreigner (he speaks english and mandarin lolol just clueless in French, because Akashi is supposed to guide him). So while Cactus work her magic, being the Akashi to my Furihata. I tried to emphasis a lot on the characters expression etc, at least to indicate of what was going on....tbh even I forgot what they were saying. *just as clueless as Furi and Cactus cackling somewhere.

Everything in here is just Cactus being amazing ;w; and pure patience LOLOL!

๑ Side Characters ๑

☆Shérine ............ We butchered the original female side. Her name was Camille.... but I was sooo tempted to name it after *coouugh* :] because it's pretty. Also her hair was blond with hazel-green eyes.... yea we buried her.

Shérine wins now... Shérine is life.

Shérine will be in their wedding.

☆Jean Kirstein (of AOT) It's JEAN! ...........someone gotta tease Akashi with no filter.

(ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ FINAL NOTES

The last section when Furihata wakes up and makes his decision, believe it or not, I was in the bus. While typing to Cactus, I was literally shaking in the bus and my eyes stung because of dust and I was in tears. I was between crying and laughing. Finished it at home ;w; Cactus was such a darling through it all.

I really had fun writing this with Cactus ;w; she's the best!!!!!!! And hopefully we'll make some crack stuff because we're hooligans like that XD.

:D BYE!

#akafuri #personal #i write stuff #rambles #;w; i really love this one

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guiltypleasurefandomface · 4 years ago

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WIP One Lines

Because sometimes plot bunnies just... happen.

1) Joe stopped where he stood and considered the situation very carefully. “Yeah that about sums it up.”

2) “Do you know what an infected wisdom tooth can lead to? Blood poisoning, encephalitis, endocarditis, calcification of the molar leading to cancer years down the line. Not to mention the lack of eating and drinking to avoid the pain isn’t good!”

3) Brian: Remember, this is about Deaky, not you, not us, not really. R: Fuck’s sake. I hate it when you’re sensible. Oh and now there’s a fucking van!

4) Roger rolls his eyes and pulls him in into the once-office-now-nurses-station

5) “And you call me a romantic.” Brian says, completely taken aback by his friend’s rant. “That’s the sappiest thing i’ve ever heard you say. Mr ‘Won’t sing happy at home cos i’m a fucking Rock Star’”.

6) “Hm, but unlike you darling, I age like a fine wine. You on the other hand are like bread, gone all mouldy around the edges and falling apart.”

7) “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Rog…” Brian said, smiling quite amicably considering the situation.

8) Freddie patted Roger’s back and got him to lift his head off the pillow.

9) “Fine. But just remember this, if he gets a girlfriend and he wants to have sex all the time with her, I’ll be making him agree to a set time and day as well!”

“See, that’s what I like about you, Rog, dear, your sense of fairness.”

10) Roger should have known he was being lulled into a false sense of security. "I'm not moping," he said, full in the knowledge his tone of voice betrayed him.

11) Roger: Who really spilt beer on my stripey jacket? Freddie: Me. OH fuck. Shit. Oh you arsehole

12) “That’s odd,” Brian said, and frowned at the sound, “That’s not one of my ringtones.”

13) “I think… that was a long time coming, don't you?”

14) Roger: Ow what was that for? Freddie: You never make me egg and chips

15) “Look I’m sure you’re, er, great at what you do-” “I’ve had no complaints” Roger said rather smugly. He winked at him. The bastard.

16) Freddie held him at arm’s length and looked him right in the eyes. “You are one of my very dear friends, Deaky, and I will fuss over you if I think you need fussing over.”

17) Brian laughs awkwardly, “Er. No. Not really. I mean not right now. Not exactly. no. No. I don’t fancy anyone male right now.” “I’m hearing a yes in all of that rambling.”

18) “Roger, I’m probably going to regret this.” Brian said, already regretting it, “But can we get back to your original point, please? What are you on about?”

19) “Shame, I wanted to know what Chucky egg was.” Ruth’s face brightened up. “It’s mashed up boiled egg! It’s a scottish and northern term” she said smiling, “I used to make it all the time for this one here, when he wasn’t well.” She turned to Brian, “You’re probably fed up with it.”

20) With his glasses off only the colour looked familiar, so he put his glasses back on and suddenly it was clear. The discoloured envelope that held the letter.

21) For a while the only sound in the room was the sound of the pages of their respective books being turned.

22) Then Freddie did what he did best, he took up all the available space and made it feel like home. “Share the blanket, darling,” he whispered, “There's a love.”

23) Roger kept one arm around Brian as he guided him through the double doors of the building. “She was very frosty with me when I spoke to her before. She must have a soft spot for you.”

24) John looked at him carefully. “ … As in musical writing partner? The McCartney to your Lennon?”

25) B: Oh really, Roger, come on, this rivalry between you two is ridiculous. R: Well. He started it.

26) The older of the two looked at him in alarm “You come from the planet Vegetos?! Bertoli have mercy!”

“Er, no.” Brian said, trying to get passed the fact one of the names of their gods was a leading brand of margerine. “I only eat... that.” He pointed at the leafy greens on Roger’s plate. “Salad? Nothing with a heartbeat?”

27) F: and why do you sound sad about that? R: … I was after her for myself, wasn’t I?

28) “Oh fuckking hell, just stop drinking it Freddie.” Brian dragged a hand up and down his face and looked at Freddie, exhausted and upset. “What have I done to it?”

29) “On second thoughts,” John said, trying to cut oncoming argument. “Do we have monopoly?” “NO!” Brian exclaimed, sounding horrified at the question more than in answer to it. “Oh god no, not monopoly.”

30) “So many shades!” Brian exclaimed! He looked between the colour wheel and his own clothes “How do people learn them all, I wonder…” Brian murmurred.

31) Roger: … Brian, I’m going to go. There’s a FREDDIE IT’S ON FIRE. Shit Bye Bri. Brian: … Bye Roger.

32) “Oh! Where’s Jules and George?” Roger said, gesturing to the empty corner of the bed.

“Ah. Up there.” Brian replied, pointing to the bookshelf.

33) Roger: What happened to the tribbles? Dr Aug: that's my queue to let you sleep.

34) “ Ah ah! No! This is a proper date. Don’t talk about the cost!”

35) “Right. Relax my knees… Are your knees relaxed?” ”I don’t know what my knees are doing.”

36) “I was horrified for a moment. I thought she really had adopted a tiger.”

37) Roger looked up at him with brows furrowed. “That’s an oddly specific suggestion…”

38) “We shop in the same place!”

39) MG: Look do you want a pamphlet or not? F: No we fucking don’t. We’re here celebrate people, not shit all over them.

40) J: Did you just…? B: Yep J: er. Why? B: No idea.

41) He brings his hand up to his mouth, slowly, horrified, at what faces him.

42) “Did you want me for something or is my name just funny today?”

43) “No. No. I mean. Its not that. It’s just… Yes, I'm… you know…” Brian waves his hand around in a vague gesture, from around the room to the bar they’re sat at, but fails come up with what exactly it is that he is.

“An auditor for the tetley company?” Ewan asks, laughing, though not unkindly.

#43 Wips #But how many will be completed!

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canislupus-exe · 5 years ago

Note

Congrats on 500! Ship for Stranger things and Harry Potter. I'm 5'3 with long red hair, blue grey eyes and lots of freckles and wear glasses. I love to sing, read, write, and take photos. I absolutely love animals. I'm very introverted but once you get to know me I'm just a weird goofball that never shuts up. I'm also known to get angry easily, red head temper. I'm very independent preferring to work alone. No one messes with my family or friends and gets away with it. Thank you sooo much

I’m also Straight forgot to mention that. Also I seen a post from way back when. Forget the 500 congrats to the 900 wow I look stupid (continued from separate ask)

I ship you with…

Jonathan Byers!

Jonathan was having a hard time adjusting to the large change in his life. He moved from the town he’d lived in his entire life, suddenly had a little sister, and was no longer with his girlfriend. Not to mention the fact that no matter where he applied he couldn’t seem to get a job. His mom was getting visibly frustrated, wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew.

He was desperate so, he applied at a diner. Something he wouldn’t have thought of doing otherwise. He got accepted and it was there he met you. He learned quickly that you were an introvert who liked working alone and that you had a bit of a temper on you. He didn’t hold either against you, of course. He even soon came to realize that you were actually really cool.

Once he got past your initial shyness, you bonded over lots of things. Photography in particular. But along with that, you both loved reading and your family. He felt a little guilty, seeing as he was slowly developing feelings for you. He didn’t want to be one of those jerks who gets over their exes within days but you were just so amazing to him. Whatever your relationship with him was though, he was glad he was taking it slow.

You held your camera up to your eye, adjusting the lens to your liking. The bee had perched itself perfectly on a sunflower and you needed to capture the moment. Your breathing was steady as you knelt, making as little movement and noise as you possibly could.

Once you got a few pictures, you began to look at them, deciphering if they were worth keeping or not. You smiled, happy with your work. It was then that you turned around and saw Jon looking at his camera in the same way. You raised your eyebrows, silently questioning what he had taken a photo of. Jon gave a small smile before turning the camera in your direction. You sighed, a smile making its way onto your face.

“Did you seriously take a picture of me… taking a picture?”

“Yep.”

“Meta.”

And…

Harry Potter!

(Gif found on Giphy)

Ron was the one who introduced you to Harry and Hermione. He had known you for years. Your family lived near his family so you grew up with him, causing him to become like a brother to you. You were a muggle-born, so it was pure luck that you had a close friend much more experienced in magic than you. It also helped that you were a quick learner.

Hermione was a great friend to have, especially considering you bonded over your love for books. Harry, on the other hand, was a different story. It was difficult to get along with him sometimes because you weren’t very similar. You bumped heads with him more than either of you would have liked to admit. You were introverted while he was extroverted. He liked working in groups and you liked working alone. But, as the saying goes, opposites attract, and man was he attracted to you.

He would never tell you. He knew how you’d react. You’d shut him down and then your friendship with him and the others would be weird. So he had to fawn over you in secret, not letting a single soul know that he thought you were absolutely stunning. He adored your freckles and the way you looked when you were tearing someone apart for insulting your family. Unbeknownst to him though, the love wasn’t one-sided.

“Seriously guys? Reading again?” Ron asked as he sat in a chair across from Hermione, leaving the one across from you for Harry. You rolled your eyes, moving the book so you could see his face.

“Yes again. Just because you can’t appreciate good literature doesn’t mean we can’t.” You replied, giving Ron the side-eye.

“Good literature? Your reading a history book for Merlin’s sake!” Ron shouted. You shook your head, going back to reading.

Seconds passed and your eyebrows furrowed as you suddenly lost grip on your book. You grabbed it once more before realizing that it was floating on its own accord. You looked around, trying to find the culprit of the spell.

You looked towards the fat lady painting, seeing Harry and his exposed wand. You made eye contact before sighing slightly, the smallest smile adorning your face. He returned it and the book fell back into your lap. He walked over and sat in front of you, and instead of feeling annoyed like you would if it were anyone else, you felt adoration course through your body, Harry silently and unknowingly feeling the same.

Hope you enjoy🖤🖤

Ships are currently: CLOSED

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #canislupus.txt #ships

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oro-e-diamanti · 2 years ago

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I've heard amazing things about this, so time to get comfy and get a read on because, knowing Foxy and her writing, this is gonna be a great one either way

edit after reading: WELL I HAD A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS ONE hahaha it's a long one under the cut because I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself haha

well yes that does sound like Thomas haha

it's too early into this story to get emotional but here we are

oh I love the detail of the "typing" appearing without anything happening

ahh Ethan is planning hm

ahhh Ethan trying to help Thomas out, yess

oooh five years ago, let's go

"Hindsight is always easier than foresight. You know now, Thomas knows now and Ethan knows now as well." 😭

god this hurts, I'm too hormonal for this

urgh Vivi

yeah ok I know it's too early to be annoyed with her but I'VE BEEN TOLD hahaha

lmao yes Vic go off

"until someone you almost forgot you know sends you an article" WHY DO PEOPLE DO THESE THING, mind your business ffs

"he's an idiot, he was told" GOOD haha

brb gotta go barf at the caption

"Are you tagging us to remind us that we’ll have band practice over video call now, or why are we seeing this." YES VIC GO OFF GIRL

bit too late, Thomas, bit too late. maybe you should have asked your new side piece when she was gonna post before she did and announced shit to the world

urgh the throwback, I'm fine I'm ok

OH OKAY I WAS CONFUSED FOR A SECOND THERE BUT I'M INTO THE DYNAMIC

urgh Ethan, I have very primal needs for this man

this has no business being so fucking hot but HELLO

god you write this so well

aaaaand back to the present, ouch

yeah Thomas, fucking surprise, no one could have seen this coming at ALL lmao

"food that can't be eaten" hahaha also me in the kitchen

aw no not l.a. people scolding him :(

not Ethan telling him a fairytale I'm gonna sob 😭

oh fuck off Vivi

OH JESUS CHRIST VIVI GET A BRAIN

Thomas being the dumbest dumbass to ever dumbass

fucking hell no one should ever be that passive and uninterested in their own wedding, that's just tragic but also THAT'S YOUR OWN FAULT THOMAS

Ethan putting his hands on Thomas' hips to get him down asghfdsjhf I love the litle details

god the way he keeps messaging her is both romantic and tragic

Ethan you sneaky bitch with the photo hahaha I love it

TITLE DROP IN THE STORY I love that

Thomas sleeping over and cuddling and hearing a story and WANTING A ROOM I'm gonna burst, he's so soft and cute, shame he lost his brain

another flashback for my poor heart haha

I'm not gonna lie, I love that arrangement with Ethan ahhh

jesus christ vivi that's not normal behaviour

"He wants to go home" 😭

oh fucking finally, Thomas

don't stick your dick in crazy, folks

"If he would have looked up, he would have seen you cross the bridge he walked over only minutes ago." afhsadha this is too good

THREE YEARS AGO THAT'S STILL SO MUCH TIME LEFT AHHHH

THAT BITCH SELLING OUT TO THE MAGAZINES I'M, once again, GONNA GO BARF

lmao not everyone coming for her to disprove her story, love that

as if y'all haven't seen each other naked more than some couples have, damiano

OH FFS DAMIANO that's just mean

dhsfjsdlfsa the story about the star

Thomas missing Vic 😭

ah fuck of course they had to run into each other at SOME point, even if this one mainly consisted of Thomas running AWAY

"I kind of forgot to tell them about each other" ETHAN NO

is that a good idea, Thomas??? bit full of memories, that house, innit

ooooh one year ago, getting closer

damn Pedro knows and understands, good dude eh

hahaha yep, that sounds like Vic

fuck's sake Vic, don't go around almost drowning, please

"You need someone who loves you unconditionally. I do love you, but not like you need" 😭

oh Thomas you silly little thing, of course she loved/loves you

THis year 👀

I WANT TO BREAK UP

ouch, poor Pedro but also oooof yeah I get it

ASHKFJHSD SORRY WHAT YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THEM FUCKING IN THEIR IN THE TINIEST PARAGRAPH AND EXPECT ME TO BE OK WITH IT

omg not Thomas still having the rehearsal room I'm gonna cry

ASHKFLSH DAMIANO STILL HAS THE PAPER

god I love this so much, the story, the scene, your writing, your MIND

I WANT BOTH OF YOU TO STAY

UH HUH YES

sgfiahfAFHOÖASFghiudfaö

that's it that's my review

just keysmash

no words

god I love it so much

10/10, amazing work, would recommend and read again

Let the devil be my witness

Pairing: Thomas x Fem!Reader x Ethan

Summary: "The little star is unhappy, it wants to be a star that others wish upon, bring them luck but shooting stars are meteors burning, just surviving for us to see before they burn up and hit the ground" or Five years of everything going wrong.

Word Count: 10.5k

Other: Warnings and everything at the end this time. There's hints to All my friends told me you would break my heart, which you should read, just because I love it :) (It works without but better with).

Reblogs are free, I would appreciate people using them. Thanks <3

Add yourself to my taglist. / Masterlist

.#####.

NOW

"I want to throw a party," Thomas tells him. Curled up under his blanket, looking at him with big eyes, a small happy smile on his face. "It'll be fun. I can close the bar for a day and everyone can just have fun, they deserve it."

Ethan just hums. He didn't see Thomas for months until he gave him a call and then Thomas just appeared in front of his door today, hugging him close and now Thomas is laying in his bed after hours of talking.

"You would come as well, right?" There's a glimmer of hope in Thomas' eyes.

"Sure," he smiles at him, "Can't have you party alone."

For a long time nothing is said, until Ethan thinks that Thomas already fell asleep. He reaches for the second blanket that is at the foot of the bed, turns the already dimmed light off. Only then, in the darkness, Thomas stirs again.

"Thank you," Thomas mumbles against his neck, "for not hating me."

Ethan stiffs before he relaxes again: "Of course not."

"Do you think we will work as a band now?" Thomas buries his face against his neck.

"It'll be okay."

"Did Vic or you tell him to apologise?" Thomas asks, slightly shaking in his arms.

"No, Dam just asked us for your new number. He wanted to apologise himself."

Again there's only silence and darkness surrounding them. But there's still one question Ethan wants answered, there's an idea forming in his head.

"Tho?"

"Eth?"

"Do you still write her?"

There's rustling next to him. He blinks and the next time he opens his eyes, he holds Thomas' phone in his hands. Thomas' Instagram DM's with you are opened. Messages you never answered but there's the little heart emoji under the text that shows that someone liked the message.

I think, I never said it but I'm sorry.

Ethan scrolls further up, sees text blur together, sees the hearts on Thomas' texts but how he never got an answer, except once. He scrolls down, and blinks at the screen confused, then it's gone again. Thinking that he imagined it, he wants to give the phone back to Thomas but just before he does, it starts again.

Typing …

Nothing happens, no text appears, but the plan is shaping up in Ethan's head - the last five years have been enough.

.#####.

"I know this is really weird," Ethan says, "Look, do you still talk to …"

He's getting cut off: "Yes, we still talk. It's okay, we just fucked, you made that really clear. What do you want?"

"Could you do me a favour and get her to a party?"

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"I can't go on seeing Thomas like this," he says, "They have to talk."

"You can't lie to me, I know which arrangement you had." There's a sigh on the other side of the phone. "You want it back as well."

"I'm already happy when he's not breaking down again. He still loves her, that's more important and more than enough for me."

"It has been years."

"Please! Before they are running away from each other again."

"I'm sorry, she just broke up with someone, I don't know if it's a good idea to just confront her with Thomas of all people right now."

"Just this one favour, I don't know who to ask otherwise."

"What do I get for being a part of this stupid plan?"

"Seeing a happy end?" A small laugh, but he counts it as a victory. "I would give you my soul if I have to, I just want to see him happy after all this."

.#####.

Five Years ago - The Breakup

Hindsight is always easier than foresight. You know now, Thomas knows now and Ethan knows now as well. Now is just too late. It wasn't what was said that ended your relationship - it was what went unsaid. At least that is what you tell yourself, but it's too late.

Just lock the door when you leave.

Just chuck the keys into my letterbox.

You cry downstairs when you are in front of his mailbox, his keys in hand. He isn't going after you to say that he's sorry. There's nothing - just silence.

Did you just break up with me?

You should have known, should have known better. Should have known before they even came back home from tour, but you were stupid enough to tell yourself that it will all turn out to be okay in the end. It didn't, you can see that now. You should have known when he went to parties more often than picking up the phone for calls you agreed on before. Forgetting calls all together and him being more distant than not.

Just when you're about to throw the keys into the letterbox, there's a hand on your shoulder and then Ethan pulls you into a hug. For a few seconds you had hope. You were clinging to the last bit of hope on this gloomy November day, all to have it shattered.

"I'm sorry," he says and hugs you closer.

You can't do anything than cry into his shirt, onto his shoulder. Your phone vibrates in your hand, has the keys making a jiggling noise.

"He doesn't mean it, don't believe him," Ethan says, "he missed you. Thomas missed you so much, he thought it would make it worse and that it would make it worse for you or him."

You don't answer, you just stare down on your phone.

Yes

The keys you drop into Ethan's hand are almost falling to the floor. And then you leave them behind.

.#####.

FIVE YEARS AGO

"Los Angeles?" Vic looks at him surprised, "Are you sure, Thomas?"

He just nods, nervously picks at his nail polish.

"Why?"

"Vivi wants to go," Thomas isn't looking at her, "might be easier for her to start a career there than here. You know how hard everything here is."

"I'm sorry, what?" The expression on Victoria's face changes from surprised to something like outraged. "You know her for what? Two months of fucking? If she has any talent, she'll also make it here, you of all people should know that."

Thomas just shrugs, avoids her gaze, and Vic sighs.

"Are you that heartbroken?"

He shrugs again, doesn't want to face the truth.

"I told you, that she would break your heart."

"I …," Thomas looks at his hands - thinks of the day the break up happened, "I was the one who broke up with her."

"Maso!" The anger gives way to a sadder look on Vic's face. "You are so in love, and you are still, don't lie to me. I don't understand, why?"

"I thought it would hurt less when I do it."

.#####.

You try to ignore it, you try to ignore the rumours and the gossip that reaches your ears - the whispers around the city. It works, but only until someone you almost forgot you know, sends you an article that you open without thinking even one second about it. You should have, you shouldn't have looked at this. Shouldn't have seen what you so desperately tried to avoid the last couple of months.

There's no need to read the article, you just see the photo. Thomas in an intimate embrace with a woman. He has his tongue down her throat, or the other way round, you're not sure. Deep down, you don't even want to know. Then you switch off your phone. You don't want to think about it, but it doesn't work.

Even in the evening when you're home and switch your phone on again, you're still thinking about it. Not getting the image out of your head, the bottle of white wine doesn't help, it just has you thinking about Thomas again, and about Ethan. The one night, you all got drunk on wine and high on weed, crossfaded - a happy pile on Thomas' couch, some obscure horror film playing in the background. Ethan kissing your neck, and Thomas giggling under you, how he tried to kiss you on the lips but his lips landed right under your eye. How he poked his tongue out, slowly licked and Ethan laughed against your shoulder. But on your phone, you can see more photos. Thomas holding hands, Ethan somewhere in the distance, the girl looking straight into the camera and you want to throw your phone against the wall.

For one second, you in your head you play with the thought to call him. Just to hear his voice, to be soft, but you don't. You call one of the friends you made in Rome, a friend you made because of him, after he took you out for dinner the first time. Thomas' friend, Franca - the waitress that evening, with who you hit it off. She showed you around bars when he wasn't there, talked with you - teached you more Italian, became a friend. Exactly like Thomas wanted to, I knew you would like each other.

"Hi," you feel bad, "I'm so sorry to call. I know he's your friend, probably more than mine but, I, I just don't know what-"

"Sweetheart," her voice is soft, "so you saw it? I'm so sorry. It's okay, he's an idiot, he was told. You're my friend as well."

"Thanks," you sniff slightly, "This hurts. He couldn't wait at least more than a month or two before almost climbing someone in public?"

"I know this isn't any condolence, but Ethan and Vic both told him, this isn't going to turn out any good and everything else …," she stops.

Sweet Ethan, you think.

"What do you mean? Everything else?"

"Are you sure, you want to know this?" She asks. You know, you shouldn't say yes to this question, it was enough for today, but you still do. "I'll sent you a screenshot, and you know what we should do? Go out, there's plenty of fish in the sea. We'll get you something better."

Problem is, you don't want anything better. You want Thomas. You want Ethan as well - but it doesn't hurt as much.

The screenshot almost makes you cry, it's a photo of Thomas and the woman you saw too many times today already. She's pressing her lips to one of his cheeks, just next to a freckle you loved to kiss, her arms around him. Worse is only the caption: Can't wait to start a new and better life with my sweetheart, the absolute love of my life, in Los Angeles next month.

"Los Angeles?" You should be happy that you'll have Rome to yourself again, that you don't have to be careful where to step, to not run into any of them. You feel nothing. "This day was enough, I think."

"You don't know the best part yet. She actually tagged him in this post but not only him, she somehow managed to tag the band account as well." A tiny bit you even have to laugh. "Ethan apparently lost it, saying he doesn't want to be associated with this. And Vic commented under it Are you tagging us to remind us that we'll have band practice over video call now, or why are we seeing this. And now, I promised you to party."

"Actually …," you thought about it before but now is the time to really do it, "I would rather look for a new job than for a stopgap just to fuck."

.#####.

There's some kind of magical string pulling you to the bar that day. The bar you met in, where Thomas first act upon seeing you was to empty his Tequila Sunrise over your dress by accident. Just when you want to step into the bar, you can see a blond man with messy hair turn around quickly and walk away - you shake your head at yourself, you're seeing ghosts.

You just want to get a drink, watch people for a bit, and go home but when you come back from the bar, Vic is sitting at the table where you usually sit.

"I know, I know, yes I got it," she says into her phone, "I just thought, you wouldn't cancel on me after you should have been already here. I get that you still have to pack stuff but …"

She hangs up with a sigh, then she looks at you: "I can't believe he just bailed on me like that."

"Welcome to the club," you want to be sarcastic but the bite is missing from your voice.

Victoria chuckles, but quickly stops when she sees your face: "I can't believe, he's really going to move to Los Angeles of all places. Half my life he was always just a few streets away."

You can feel your lips start to quiver, your hand slightly shaking. Vic takes your drink out of your hand and then she pulls you down into a hug.

"God, I'm so sorry," she whispers while you cry into her soft cardigan, "This must be hard for you as well."

"Please don't tell him."

.#####.

When you're home hours later, you stare at the Instagram DM Thomas sent you a while ago:

I just wanted to tell you that I'm moving to LA. I wanted you to know from me, not from somewhere else.

You didn't answer - there was nothing left to say. You already knew.

It should have been the quickest way to get you back home but now you're already standing in the streets for the last ten minutes. Autumn is just around the corner, it's early September, and you are standing in front of Thomas' flat. Thomas' old flat - he moved end of June, you try to tell you that it's better like this. That he's gone, but it doesn't work, you tell yourself the same when you see pictures in glossy magazines or when you accidentally see Thomas' Instagram's posts. It always hurts whatever you tell yourself.

You try not to let your thoughts wander back in time, you try not to think about them. But before you can tell yourself not to do it, you think about how many times you went up the stairs to Thomas' flat. How you went up the stairs the first time after the night at Ethan's place.

They just came back from some little promo tour they had for a little over a week and Ethan asked if you would come over to Thomas' place later. You couldn't say no, you where just wondering why Thomas didn't text anything all evening and isn't the one who's opening the door for you.

"Where's Thom?"

"In the living room." Ethan grins at you, glass of wine in hand. You can only hear the intro music of a film playing from the living room. "He'll be happy to see you."

Contrary to what you expected Thomas isn't sitting on the couch, he's laying on his back, on the wooden floor boards - almost naked. You kneel down next to him, to press a kiss to his cheek. Affectionately you let your fingers glide through his hair. He wants to say something but he can only whine and mumble against the soft scarf that is between his lips, used to gag him. You let your hands wander over his body, his waist, his hips, play with the hairs of his happy trail until he whines again and tries to buck his hips up.

Ethan kneels down next to him on his other site and carefully gets the scarf out of his mouth. He wipes the spit away from Thomas' chin with his thumb.

"We will watch a film now." Ethan says, "If you promise me to make no noise, you can come up to the couch and we can leave this off."

Thomas sits between you two, while you are still dressed. Everytime Thomas does want to say something or a whine almost lefts his mouth, he carefully bites into Ethan's shoulder or into your arm. When there's a heated scene of two people fucking against a wall, Thomas loses the battle with himself and lets a loud whine slip past his lips. It doesn't help that you let your hand slip into his slightly tented briefs and let your fingers swirl around his tip. He whines even louder.

"You have to go back down." Ethan says, slapping your hand lightly, so you take it off Thomas' and then he pauses the film. "Just lay down, stick your tongue out."

Thomas does lay down, while Ethan takes off your trousers and your panties: "You can have him, but not his dick, otherwise you can play with him, 'kay?"

You kind of have an idea what he wants to see, and you don't want to disappoint, you know Thomas doesn't want to either. You wipe some of the drool away from Thomas' face. He looks up to you, a little bit unsure - you still remember how he said he isn't good at this.

"You'll do great," you reassure him before you put both your feet next to his head, grab a handful of his hair and lower your body down. "I know it, just keep your tongue out, babe."

He is doing more than keeping his tongue out, he's trying to go with your movements. Carefully licking through your folds, then faster - a little bit harsher, before he switches back to carefully. You move his head, his tongue gliding in and out. Whoever made him believe that he's not good at this, deserves to be haunted for their rest of their life, you think. When you pull him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit, slightly circles it. It feels so good, you almost cum and you would but Ethan pulls you off. Thomas heavily panting under you.

It doesn't take long to free Thomas of his briefs, or to get him to fuck you. You're bouncing up and down playfully on his dick, you can feel how he restrains himself to not just buck up into you.

"You did such a good job," you can hear Ethan tell him, "You don't have to hold back."

And he doesn't. The next second your back hits the floor and he's over you. There's no restraints anymore, just Thomas going deeper, moaning into your mouth. The only word you can think off is wild, and you definitely see the stars when you cum.

A loud noise gets you out of your memories, people being noisy, carrying boxes. Just when your phone is ringing and you pick it up almost in trance.

We would like to offer you the job.

The For Rent sign is taken down. Someone new is moving in. He isn't coming back, you realise. It's not feeling like a weird and unpleasant dream anymore, it feels like reality crashing down over you. And you are offered the job you always dreamed of. In Sydney, a city you never asked for. You look up to Thomas' window, the window you have seen him smoke out so often and know that you'll not see him again like this, and you say yes.

.#####.

Thomas is sitting on the roof of his rented house. Cigarette between his lips, guitar next to him, he's watching the sunset in the distance. He can't tell if he's happy, the only thing he knows for sure is that he's drunk. Incredibely drunk. He went up to the roof after Vivi asked him another time this week, if he could show her photos to some people, as she did the months before. Thomas tried, he did try for her, showed them to some people he thought might have pity - either with him or with her - or would like them, but everyone told him the same. No. It escalated into a fight and then into a fight about something else, not the first time since they moved, or even this month and not only because of this alone.

He's tired. Tired of running after people for other people. Tired of the fighting. Tired of band practice over webcam. Tired of Vic and Damiano looking at him pityfully. And he's so tired of Ethan looking at him as if he had told him that stars aren't real and the big celestial bodies are only an illusion he made up in his head years ago. He's so tired of it.

Don't fucking cry. He tells himself.

He is tired of being tired. Thomas takes another sip of his drink that is too bitter. He loves sitting on the roof with the last sunrays of the day but he misses his balcony in Rome and his small kitchen full of people, cooking that goes wrong and food that can't be eaten but he still had fun. Now there are still people in his kitchen but every day blends into the other, people talk to him as if he's an animal in a zoo and he's getting scolded for burning something more often than feeling lips on his forehead, in his hair or on his cheeks - and collective laughter.

Do you think stars have a life?

There's no thought in his head when he writes it, no one stopping him sending it. Nothing happens, until a little heart appears under his text. Causing his own heart to jump in his chest. He waits but there's nothing else, no answer.

I hope Sydney makes you happy x

No answer.

I'm not. Happy, I mean. He writes it, but before sending it, he deletes it and dials Ethan's number instead.

"It's early," Ethan says. There's a voice next to him and Thomas can hear how he gets out of bed.

"It's late," Thomas says, "Do you think stars have a life?"

"Do you want to hear the scientific answer?" Ethan asks and sighs. "Or are you asking for a story?"

"A fairytale?" He picks up his guitar, it almost wheeps when he plays. He still isn't ready to cry but his guitar wants to. "Please?"

"Hundreds of light years away, in a bright galaxy full of other stars, there was once a little star …"

He only gets down the roof late in the night. Vivi is standing in the corridor, looking tired and she snaps at him.

"Did you have fun?" she asks, "While I had to tell your friends that you aren't in a good mood and everyone looked at me like I'm the most pathetic person in the room?"

"Vivi."

"No. Don't look at me like that, like you're all sad and your life is horrible with me but like you're sorry," she says, "You cannot always leave an argument like this Thomas."

His voice is smaller than he wants it to be: "I didn't invite those people, you did. You can't just invite people to my house. They aren't my friends, how many times do I have to repeat? You started an argument in front of them because you started with your," he makes air quotes, "Can you believe he still didn't ask me to marry him again."

"Yes, because we had this conversation so many times. I told you I want to get married, get a hint."

"You want me to marry you? Fine." He is tired, he's still so fucking tired. "I'll buy you a ring. Go dress shopping or whatever people do that get married."

"You finally came around?" She smiles and puts an arm around his hips, "We will make such a great couple, I already know the perfect dress, you will love me in it."

"I'm crashing in a hotel." He takes his guitar and his car keys. And then he's out the door, he wants to get out, he just wants to breathe.

In the end he does buy a ring. He even goes down on his knees. He's so fucking tired. He wishes he really could be the little star light years away that so desperately wants to be a shooting star and is still finding happiness in the end.

I got engaged

This time he isn't waiting for an answer, a reaction, isn't staring at his phone. He knows there will be no answer - there's nothing else to say.

.#####.

They tour Europe and Thomas finally feels like he can breathe again. He calls Vivi after gigs, lets her talk about wedding decisions she makes without him. But more often than not, he sends you a quick message. A photo from Florence, an anecdote how he almost fell off stage in France, that he misses talking to you from Stockholm and a selfie of him and Ethan with the Colosseum in the background from Rome which you saved to your phone.

"Do you think Sydney is nice?" Thomas asks Damiano one evening.

"You want to tour Australia, huh?" Damiano looks back at him but then his look changes. "It's not about touring, is it?"

Thomas shakes his head.

.#####.

FOUR YEARS AGO

It's already early May when Ethan comes to visit him in Los Angeles. He's excited, excited to see his friend, excited to have nothing to do and he hopes that he is finally getting away from deciding which colour the tablecloths at the wedding should have, which they still don't have a date for and will more than likely still be months away.

The first two days are the best he had since the tour ended. Just Ethan and him going to the beach, eating ice cream and existing next to each other. There's a party in the evening and Thomas almost gets Ethan to dance on a table with him but in the end he smiles fondly at him and stays on the ground. Thomas laughs when Ethan puts his hands on his hips to get him off the table at the end of the night. He still smiles when Ethan strokes his sweaty bangs out of his face and says goodnight, presses a light kiss to his cheekbone, hours later.

"You came home late!" It's the first thing he hears when he wakes up only hours later. Vivi's voice sharp next to him.

And then all of a sudden it isn't the relaxed holiday anymore he wanted, or Ethan wanted for himself. Vivi always hanging around, pulling him back when he gets too close or when Ethan puts an arm around his waist. There are more photos of her in Thomas' flowy shirts than usual, Thomas in the background sometimes, a hand here, an engagement ring there. A little reminder. Not one minute she leaves them alone, Ethan rolls his eyes when she cuddles up to Thomas at the pool one afternoon, making out with him until Ethan takes his book and leaves for his room.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!?" She puts her hand on his chest. "You don't like it?"

"That's not what I'm talking about. Am I under surveillance or something?"

"You fucked with him, or someone with him, I don't care. But don't think I'll let him out of my sight or alone with you. That one party was enough."

"You're exaggerating," Thomas tells her but Vivi isn't listening anymore, "There's nothing you have to worry about. You know we aren't getting back together."

Ethan is staying away from him the next days, doing his own thing. Sending Thomas a photo from an art gallery he is going to, while Vivi is dragging him to another one at the other end of the city. He has a headache. Somehow there's a snapshot of him holding hands in an Italian gossip magazine a day later which Damiano sends him a photo off.

You remember when Ethan told us about his fave painting? And how the brushstrokes are unique? I wish, I could still remember the painting's name without asking him but I only remember the name of the tea I had. Who names a tea Dulce & Banana?

One morning, the second week of Ethan's stay, Ethan and Thomas take their breakfast to the pool. Listening to music together and Thomas rests his head on Ethan's shoulder while biting into a croissant.

"Smile!" Ethan says and then everything goes a little bit too fast. Thomas smiles when Ethan points his phone camera to them. While Vivi sneaks in from behind just in the moment Ethan rises his hand to show the camera his middlefinger, directly in front of her face. Strangely he has to giggle when he sees the end result. Vivi on the other hand is fuming, Thomas just looks at him, a little bit annoyed, a little bit lost. He posts it anyways and thinks about getting a hotel room for the rest of his stay.

"Can you at least try to be nice to her?" Thomas says later in the day.

Before Ethan can answer, Vivi lays her arm around Thomas: "We're going out for dinner now, right?"

"Are you joining?"

"No, I'm going to look for a hotel room."

Later he does look for a hotel room but before he books it, he decides to facetime Victoria.

"How are you two? Oh…" Vic looks at him surprised, "Where's Thom?"

"Out for dinner, with Vivi."

"Your holidays aren't that great?" She asks.

He tells her everything that gets on his nerves, how it feels like he can't talk to Thomas even five minutes a day. How he really doesn't want to be here and that he really was excited to be here in the beginning.

"This is why I didn't want to join." Chili is crawling into her lap. "Or why Damiano and I decided she isn't allowed to join us on tour."

"You decided this without me?"

Victoria sighs: "You can never be angry with him for long, damn you can't even say no to him even when he's the biggest fucking idiot." Vic and Chili are both looking at him. "Dami didn't want the paparazzi to swamp us, they somehow turn up when she's around, and I didn't want you to have to see this the whole time."

"Okay."

"Ethan, you … As I said you can't say no to him, he just has to look at you. We … we also thought it would be …," she shakes her head, "You and him is a different story, I didn't want to make it harder for you or him or for … For, you know, for her."

"Okay."

"And … I can see he's suffering."

Ethan startles when there's a knock on the door. Thomas in front of it.

"Did you eat?"

"Shitty pizza and an even shittier salad."

Thomas looks at Ethan's laptop: "One of your fuckbuddies?"

"I hope I'm better than that!?"

All three of them laugh, and Vic hangs up. Thomas gives him a paper bag. It contains some pastries and a salad that isn't shit according to Thomas and two pre-mixed cocktails in bottles.

"Can I come in?" Thomas asks, "I'm sorry because of earlier."

They go up to the roof in silence, they eat in silence, they drink in silence.

"Do you really want this engagement, Thom?"

"I don't know," he shrugs - fumbles for a cigarette.

"If you could start over with your life would you do it?" Ethan tries to change his approach. "Would you change anything?"

"Hmmm," Thomas looks down at the cigarette between his fingers, "I would. I would do a lot different now. Let the devil be my witness, I would do things differently."

"When she would have come up with me again, would you have still broken up?"

"Did you ask her to come up again?" Thomas looks at him - hurt and broken.

"No."

"Does it matter then?"

Ethan swallows. Maybe it doesn't matter after all. There's only cigarette smoke and silence between them.

"Can I stay here?" Thomas plays with his ring, twists it on his finger, puts it on another finger before he puts it back where it belongs.

Thomas cuddles close to him when they are in bed. All Thomas wants is another story, and Ethan settles on a story that one of his older sisters told him when he was a child.

Thomas is almost asleep, when he speaks again: "Can we book a room for us together?"

.#####.

Sydney isn't Rome. You knew but it still shocks you how the city and you aren't getting along - there's a point mid-year where you have to admit that you aren't going to be friends. Everywhere you step, everywhere you walk, you miss Rome. History surrounding you, traffic chaos, you miss it. It doesn't help that your new job isn't as good as you made it out to be in your head and your manager a dickhead.

Sometimes you think about how easy it would be to write Thomas. Like you did before, talk about your day, that your job is shit, how stressed you are. That the grass isn't always greener on the other side. You wish, you could hear his voice, hear him talk and fall asleep to the sound of his guitar. You want to tell him that you recently saw a poster of them a street you walk every day but the next morning someone already sprayed over it and you imagine how he would laugh and make a joke.

You don't write him, you don't answer when he writes. But in the end, you post a photo of you packing boxes. And a month later you post a photo of you back in Rome.

I hope Rome missed me as much as I missed Rome.

It's your first night back. You're happy, sitting on your new balcony with a bottle of wine. You're happy and melancholic. Thomas sends you a <3 - and you almost start to cry.

I miss Rome as well

Realisation that you will think about him at every corner you turn and every street you cross again strikes you when you see his message.

Do you remember when you told me you didn't regret kissing me?

You do - you remember it still too clearly.

A few months after the first night at Ethan's place. After a few more nights together, you in Thomas' bed and in his arms for most of the evening. Until Thomas is turning onto his stomach and you end up sitting on his thighs, pressing kisses to his neck and shoulders.

"Do you regret being here?" Thomas mumbles into his pillow.

"No." Another kiss to his shoulder. "Why would I? I'm exactly where I want to be?"

"You really don't regret kissing me the first time at the pool?"

"I don't regret it," you say, "And I meant everything I said as well."

Thomas is still slightly humming into the pillow when Ethan joins you two in bed.

"You smell like sex," Thomas says, turns his head - and lifts his head into Ethan's touch when Ethan tousles his hair.

Ethan just grins while you're busying yourself with continuing to kiss Thomas' shoulder blades.

It's your deal. Ethan will do whatever he does, whatever he wants - go and come how he pleases. Will join you whenever he likes, taking advantage of the spare key Thomas gave him. More often than not. Thomas is different, a constant. But in the end Ethan isn't that different - he always comes back to both of you.

"Yes," he kisses your cheek, "You two don't, are you just cuddling?"

Now it's your turn to grin. Thomas shivers when you put your hand on the small of his back and breath lightly against his ear: "I think, Thomas would love to cum."

"Would he?"

Thomas nods and whimpers quietly, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"What would have happened if I wouldn't have come home?"

"He wouldn't cum." Thomas whimpers again, "Obviously."

You know, somewhere along the lines, Thomas will get his revanche at you for this. Later, when you do smell like sex, Thomas and Ethan cuddled close to you, you think home.

You still think about it sometimes, home.

.#####.

I felt safe.

He looks at the text, but deletes it, puts his phone down and goes for his guitar instead, he plays mindlessly. He plays until his mind is blank, no emotion or feeling left.

When he goes back to the bedroom, Vivi is in bed, red lingerie, but what catches Thomas off guard is his phone in her hands.

"What are you doing?"

"You changed your PIN?" She looks at him. "I also can't open it anymore with my fingerprint?"

"You shouldn't be on my phone."

He's tired. He's so tired again.

"You are hiding something from me." It's not even a question.

"No."

He doesn't. She knows, knew from the beginning, she still decided she wanted a relationship with him. Wanted to move to Los Angeles together, wanted to marry him. Maybe she really is in love, he thinks. He was at one point, maybe still is a bit, otherwise he wouldn't be here. But then he realises that she got him away from all his friends, from home, he feels alone. She's always there, but he's still alone. He's always wrong, sometimes he isn't, when she wants something. With everytime she posts a photo of her in one of his shirts, it gets worse. With every pic he posts, with every ohhhh and awwww in the comments, while Vivi is there to ridicule him, he wants to get away.

"Sure, lets say I'll believe you." She gets up and tries to open his shirt. "I didn't get into this for nothing."

"Not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood. You could at least fuck me, Thomas."

And then she rushes out of the room.

He wants to go home.

.#####.

Once again, it's November. And he breaks up with someone. It almost becomes a tradition, he's sarcastic to cope.

"You promised to marry me."

Thomas doesn't say anything.

"I wish we never met," she takes a plate that is next to the sink. "Everyone warned me about you."

That rings a bell, Thomas thinks but he keeps silent. He's too afraid he'll fold again, stay.

"You'll regret this." The plate flies towards him, he can just duck before it flies over his head and shatters on the wall. The last time it was a tea cup - he wants to cry. "I'll make you regret this."

He sinks down the wall, ends up between the shards of the broken plate.

"Please, stop." Thomas says, when he sees Vivi reach for another plate. "Stop."

"You'll see what happens next."

She throws her engagement ring at him and leaves.

And he finally cries.

.#####.

Thomas goes home for Christmas, he isn't planning on going back. He's back in Rome and he wants to stay.

He posts a picture of him being back.

I'll never be as happy somewhere as here

He smiles at his phone when you like the post, Ethan smiling at him in return.

Vic, Damiano, Ethan and him are spending New Year's in his new flat. Damiano cooking with Ethan's help. Vic annoying them with party crackers. He laughs, he's happy, he needed this.

"I missed you." Victoria hugs him from behind, then she annoys him with a party whistle, blowing it directly against his stomach.

The New Year starts with too much champagne, laughter, his friends and a walk Ethan takes him on.

"I'm glad you're back." Ethan offers him a cigarette. "Did you tell her you're back?"

"No." But Thomas smiles. "I think she knows."

He stays back a little, Ethan walking ahead slowly. There's one thing, he wanted to do, he gets the engagement ring out of his coat. Looking at the Tiber, he breathes in deeply, it's cold, then he throws it into the river and he sees it sink.

Happy New Year <3

Happy New Year, Thom!

If he would have looked up, he would have seen you cross the bridge he walked over only minutes ago.

.#####.

Three Years Ago

Your year starts out differently than expected. It really starts a few days after it already started and it starts at a place you didn't expect, the supermarket. Almost it doesn't catch your attention but then you have a closer look. It's a magazine you see, and take from the rack. It's a flashy one with big letters and attention grabbing headlines and the word EXCLUSIVO in red. What grabs your attention is the photo of Thomas, and his ex, the photo photoshopped to seem torn apart and the exclusive interview the cover teases. Her name printed beneath another picture of her and the Polyamouros affair with his bandmate - what else did she have to go through? headline makes your head spin. You buy it and hurry to get home.

Your head spins even more, when you read it.

We already sent invitations for our wedding.

He broke up with me on my birthday.

He kicked me out of our shared house, without letting me get my stuff, in the middle of the night.

Before me, he had an affair with Ethan and some random girl. They both f*cked her, he tried to keep it a secret. This probably explains why he's incapable of real intimacy, one just isn't enough for him. I'm still wondering if he cheated on me during our time together, they were on tour, maybe they just fucked random groupies.

Maybe that's why we didn't have sex.

You can't believe that she got two double pages and you can't believe that she's talking about Thomas. Your Thomas. Maybe you don't want to believe it.

The next days the story is all over the place. Your friends who knew, blowing up your phone. Even Victoria reaches out to you.

Thomas keeps silent, the only thing which is said, that the statements do not reflect true events, is coming from their publicist. You can see him getting shit, see the hateful comments.

I cried in the shower. fuck.

That's what Thomas writes one night later.

I didn't do anything of this. I should have stayed with her, she said she would make me regret it.

You want to hug him, you want to tell him that everything will be okay. You don't, the moment just passes.

Ethan posts something close to a statement in his stories, which Thomas reposts.

The only thing, I want to say is this: All 3 people have consented to this form of relationship, no one cheated. It was a relationship with a person we adore and not some "random girl", it was full of love from all sides. Don't judge.

And then the narrative changes.

Their wedding planner speaking up, that no invitations where sent: "They didn't even have a date? Do you send invitations to your wedding without a date?"

Her birthday is in March - they broke up in November.

"I saw her throwing a cup at him after a party, because he ruined her party at his house, he paid rent for. He didn't say a peep."

"She left, he didn't kick her out. This is what she wrote me after they ended their relationship."

And then the story dies, another attention grabbing story coming along.

.#####.

It's over and done with, he tells himself when he's laying down to get his new tattoo on his birthday. Vic got him to go to therapy, after she saw the story with the cup and asked if it's true. He was hesistant, but he has to admit, she was right, it's better. Sometimes, like now, he is afraid it isn't over, that she'll make him regret it, somehow.

Then the needle starts and there's only the feeling of getting tattooed. Just blissful pain.

"You have to show," Vic says at the next band practice and then she already pulls down his loose joggers, "Come on! I already couldn't really admire that tattoo over your ass when you got it."

"Vic!" He pulls his joggers up again while Ethan and Damiano giggle. "It's on my back, not my ass."

She puts her hand on his back, just over the waistband of his joggers, directly over his ass: "I said, over your ass, not on your ass and now show me that new tattoo."

Thomas starts pulling his joggers down again before Damiano opens his mouth, "Please don't show us your dick."

"What is wrong with all of you. It's not on my dick, just on my pelvis, really upper thigh."

"Next to it," she laughs and then she has a closer look, "Interesting."

It's a small colosseum, around it a snake that carries a little star.

.#####.

It's early May and it starts slowly. The comments in his direction getting more, as Damiano starts getting more and more frustrated. Their newest album not getting the best reviews or the good attention they hoped for, it's their fifth, it shouldn't matter, they are working on the sixth. The hype died down, it's normal, Ethan tells him, it's okay. And Vic telling him to concentrate less on numbers again.

"You have been a mess since the day I met you." Damiano says one day.

It's dead silent in the room. Vic shakes his head at him.

"What?" Thomas' voice is small.

"You are a mess. Ethan even had to get the press to not publish the name of your ex because your other one is crazy."

"Dami, stop." Ethan says, he bites his lips.

"What?"

"They asked for a statement from me and they mentioned her name," Ethan sighs, "I paid them to not mention it. It's okay, I didn't want you to worry about it again."

The nail in the coffin follows two weeks later. It escalates one day. They are sitting in the practice room again, nothing wants to work, no riff, no lyrics, nothing. Damiano lashes out at all three of them and Thomas smokes more than he plays guitar. During his next smoking break, he feels for a folded sheet of paper in his pocket. They should try it, he thinks, it could work better than everything they have. He has a riff in his head for it, he has an idea for on intro, he has the lyrics written down - maybe Damiano can tweak them.

"This is childish," Damiano says after only reading the first line.

"'kay. When you think, I'm childish, I'll leave." Thomas looks at the paper in Damiano's hand. "You're hurting me. I'm not going through this again."

"Thomas, come on. We just need something better tha-"

"I'll get my stuff later."

Ethan takes the paper out of Damiano's hand: "Oh, Thom!"

But Thomas is already out of the door.

"What?"

"It's a fairytale I made up for him. It's about a little star that wants to be a shooting star but shooting stars aren't real stars, the little star isn't meant or even built to be one. The story is about the little star which tries to be something else without realising that people love it for what it is. The little star is unhappy, it wants to be a star that others wish upon, bring them luck but shooting stars are meteors burning, just surviving for us to see before they burn up and hit the ground, they die, Damiano." Ethan gives the paper back to him, "And stars are beatiful nonetheless. I thought he didn't understand."

"And now?" Vic asks carefully.

"He'll be here tomorrow."

But Thomas isn't there the next day. His guitars - gone, his pedals - gone, his equipment - gone, his hoodie he left behind the day before - gone.

"And now?" Vic asks again, sitting on the floor where Thomas usually would sit.

"I'm not doing this without Thomas. You have been a real dickhead to him the past weeks, he had every right to leave. Why did you have to be so condescending to him?"

And then Ethan leaves.

"I … This only started because of Thomas, he started this with me. We had that silly little dream together to become rockstars. It only worked because of Thomas. Then it should also end with him. I'm sorry, I … can't do this without him, I don't want to."

And then Vic is gone as well.

Only Damiano stays behind, the piece of paper in his hands.

Saggezza delle stelle

.#####.

I broke up the band. Can I do anything right?

The news say they are taking a break, you saw it. But you believe him when he writes that they broke up as a band. You believe it even more, when Ethan reaches out to you. He isn't saying much, he's only asking you to reach out to Thomas, that he thinks he isn't feeling well. You're on the way to your first date in a while when you get the text. You don't answer - you don't write Thomas when Pedro the guy you saw for lunch is asking you for a second date.

.#####.

Thomas opens a bar, it's late summer. He thought about it, what to do with his life now and decided he wants a break from music. He doesn't want to write music for money - he wants to enjoy it, wants to love playing guitar just for the love of playing. He doesn't think that anyone would care anyways and then he started thinking, ended up with a tapas bar. It should be small, full of people and laughter. The opening is a party, he's happy.

Ethan is there, next to him behind the bar. Someone is missing, but Thomas is too chicken to reach out to Vic - he still has the feeling he ruined part of her life. Ethan told him, that she tries to cope, that it's hard but that they all will find their way. Thomas misses her, he misses their dinner dates and their silly rituals.

"To something new!" His mum cheers to him and he cheers back.

Do you think people who are hurt can be happy?

.#####.

"Thomas, are you okay?"

It's a simple question, or at least should be one. He only came to the bar tonight to meet his date. Now he isn't answering, just stares past his barkeeper, into the tiny room of the bar full of guests. There's only static noise in his brain. And then he bolts for the backdoor, just runs. He runs until his lungs give out, stands with his back to the wall in a small alley, and lets himself sink down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Tears are stinging in his eyes. He really thought this would be over, he can't even remember how long it his been since that one rainy, gloomy day one past November. Or how long it has been since that one day in May. How long it has been since the last band practice. Or when he saw Vic or Ethan the last time. Or how long it's been since he came back from Los Angeles, with an engagement ring in his pocket that he threw into the river. Sinking down, just like one of his other dreams. He can't tell how long it's been, but he still remembers that voice.

"Fuck!"

He balls his hands into fists, slams them against the hard stone wall behind him. And he doesn't stop, he sniffs. He only stops when there's blood dripping drown his hands. Drips down from his knuckles onto the silver of his ouroborous ring, he gets blood into his blond hair somehow and winces when his knuckles slam against the wall another time.

"Fuck, please."

He pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head, into his face. No need for anyone seeing him like this, maybe even someone who still knows who he is. He searches for cigarettes, winces again when his opened skin comes in contact with the fabric of his jeans, but there are no cigarettes. He must have lost them, like he lost the last bit of his dignity. He thinks and laughs bitterly before he curls into himself. Somehow he manages to get his phone.

"Thomas?"

"Can you pick me up, please?"

"Sure? From the bar? Was your date this terrible?"

Thomas swallows, he never even saw his date. He stepped in and out of his bar in the timespan of two minutes.

"I'm not." He winces again. "Just pick me up, please. Ethan, please."

.######.

"Are you okay?"

It's another date, in a small tapas bar that is bustling, loud and full of people. With Pedro, the first person in a while you think that it could work with.

"Hmmm sure," but you're distracted. Distracted by a conversation that goes on behind you.

"Thomas, are you okay?"

When you turn, you can see someone in a hurry. Blond hair, tall. You shake your head, you must have imagined.

The evening goes on, you drink one of the best glasses of white wine you had in while. Talk, have fun, you laugh. This will work out, you tell yourself, how so often with him.

"Hi!? I'm here for Thomas, is he here somewhere?"

You wan't to ignore it again but the next sentence punches you in your gut.

"No, sorry. I don't think so. Salvatore, did you see Raggi come back?"

And the next one slaps you square in your face.

"No. We all just saw him bolt out of the backdoor like a mad man earlier but he didn't come back. Can you imagine dude owns this place."

"Are you sure, you are okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

Blast from the past, you would say. You try not to suffocate yourself on your food.

"No, I'm fine," you hurry to reassure him, "But we could go home after we finish the wine."

He smiles at you.

Later, much later, your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You want to put it back again before you see the Instagram notification and without better judgement, you open the app and the direct message.

There's a kiss on your shoulder.

I miss you. Why do I still fucking miss you?

.#####.

"I'm useless." Thomas says a month later, when it happens again. Him running away when he sees you. "Vivi was right, I'm useless and not worth anyone's time."

"Thomas," Ethan brushes through his messy hair, "Please don't believe that, you're worth people's time. Certaintly my time, you aren't useless."

.#####.

"How is Tho?" Vic is asking him, nipping on her hot chocolate. It's getting colder outside again.

"Better, I think." Ethan tells her. "I think the bar is good for him, he loves having people around. He loves seeing people happy. I think it's the right thing for him, he's thinking about producing his own wine, he's experimenting with some grapes right now."

Vic hums, looking a little sad: "And how are you?"

"Fucking around."

"Literally?" Vic laughs.

"I fucked up a little?" He laughs as well. "I'm seeing this one girl, I really like her but I'm also seeing this other girl. I like her as well, but I'm not really interested in either of them? I know, it's weird and … well, I kind of forgot to tell them about each other?"

"Come on, you should know how this works." She still laughs before she gets serious again. "I'm glad you're still hanging on to Thomas, despite everything, he deserves someone like you."

When Ethan is driving her back home, Damiano's solo single plays on the radio. They both look at each other and Victoria changes the station.

.#####.

You are sitting on your couch, cuddled up. You're home, Pedro next to you.

"Are we together?" He smiles at you.

"Yes."

.#####.

"I want to show you something."

Thomas is excited, Ethan can tell and see, Thomas is skipping in front of him, but when they stand in front of the building, Ethan is confused.

"That's the house you throw me into the pool because I fucked your crush?"

"It's also the house she kissed me in the first time." Thomas smiles. "And it was on sale. It's a nice house, I wanted it."

Ethan shakes his head but he still smiles when he sees Thomas being happier than before.

.#####.

One Year Ago

You're happy, you really are. Rome feels like home again, you're in a loving relationship, your job finally not draining all energy out of you. Everything feels right again.

Sometimes when you're taking Thomas' umbrella with the dots on it, you're thinking about him. It outlasted him - still in your possesions. Sometimes there are evenings when Thomas writes to you, when he's on your mind. Sometimes Pedro asks if you want to answer him, he would understand, but you always shake your head. It still hurts.

.#####.

"Vic, people are looking already."

She's clinging to Thomas' body, arms around his neck and he has to hold her up when she wraps her legs around his thighs.

"I don't care. I haven't seen you in a year, you asshole."

It's true, it's over a year since they have seen each other last. He dreaded it when Vic reached out to him a few days ago but holding her, it already feels like no time passed. They are in his bar, he feels comfortable here. They can sit down, he can offer Vic some food, test his wine on her.

"I almost died a few days ago."

Thomas blinks at her.

"I went to a party, I got a little bit drunk." She smiles sheepishly. "A bit too drunk, I fell into the pool and I swear I almost drowned. I just didn't know how to get up? It was the weirdest feeling."

"How did you get up?" Thomas asks. He feels worse than he felt at the beginning of their conversation. He should have been there, get her out of there. Whatever happened at parties, they always saved each other since they were teenagers. He wasn't there when she would have needed him.

"Ethan was there with some guy and the dude jumped after me into the pool?" She plays with her white wine glass, lets the wine swirl. "He fished me out of the pool."

"I'm glad they were there with you."

"He looked a lot like you," she looks at him and sighs. "I thought it was you and then I thought I'm seeing god and I'll just die. How funny would that have been? I'm gonna die and god is just you judging me."

He laughs with her, he hugs her.

"Less parties for me now. I thought, I could go back to music. Maybe go into producing some stuff? I want to have my own label, encourage more girls going into rock music. I think, I would enjoy that." She pauses, takes another sip of her wine. "I wanted to ask if you would join in? Help me with starting it?"

"I can help a little bit here and there if you want me there," he says, "but don't get me wrong, I won't join. I have the bar, I'm really happy here and I have this project with a charity which advocates about abusive relationships. You could ask Ethan, he would love to do it, I think."

"But I can leave you the option to join in and own the label with us together when you're ready for music again?"

"Sure!" He gives her a pinky promise. "I'm sorry, Vic. I'm sorry that I fucked everything up."

.#####.

"Did you ever think about having a thing with two other people at the same time afterwards?" Thomas asks.

"With you?"

"Does it matter?" Thomas turns, pulls the blanket up to the tip of his nose.

"It does." Ethan sighs. "Yes, I actually had and I did think about it. But not with you."

"Oh."

"You need someone who loves you unconditionally. I do love you, but not like you need." Ethan sighs again. "It just worked because she loved you. She always wanted you. I don't think it would work any other way, with any other person."

"She didn't."

"What?"

"Love me!"

He curls up under the blanket.

"Maso," Ethan sits down next to him - brushes his fingers through his hair, "You're an idiot."

"Can you stay please."

"Yes, for tonight."

Ethan is gone the next morning, before Thomas even opens his eyes. Victoria tells him about work, the meetings they have together, and he is helping out but he isn't seeing Ethan again. He doesn't know what happened exactly, he just knows he doesn't want to be a piece of charity work. He also knows he's doing him wrong.

.#####.

This Year

You're in the supermarket to get a good bottle of wine. It's your anniversary, and you decided to have dinner on your balcony. You grab the bottle of white wine that springs to your eyes when you have a look around. Until now you just like the label, it's local, from the Lazio region. Before you put the bottle in your basket, you see the label on the back. There's a small picturous photo of a vineyard but next to it is another photo, one of Thomas smiling into the camera.

The bottle glides out of your hands, to the supermarket floor and shatters into pieces. People are looking at you while you try to hold your tears back. You're going back home without a bottle of wine, Pedro in the kitchen.

"I want to break up."

.#####.

Unknown number.

It's the fifth time today the number is calling him. He's laying in the sun and finally picks up. The phone almost drops to the ground when he hears Damiano's voice. He almost hangs up on him without saying anything.

But Damiano is faster: "I'm sorry, Tho. I was an asshole. You don't have to forgive me, I just wanted to apologise."

Thomas is silent first, he's in a better place than he was two years ago or even one, he realises. This would have gone differently then, he knows.

"I do," he says, "forgive you."

.#####.

You don't regret going to the party your friend dragged you to. You don't regret ending up in Thomas' bed. You don't regret the desperate sex, Thomas on top of and Ethan next to you. There's absolutely no regret when Thomas cuddles closer to you and you all stand in his kitchen the next morning.

You don't regret when you say, that you love him.

.#####.

Nothing changed when they all walk into their old rehearsal room.

"How did we get it back?" Vic asks.

"I paid the rent," Thomas says and ignores the looks the others give him.

It takes a while until they get around with each other again, but it works. They have new ideas. Sometimes they don't know how to act, what can be said or is too much but in the end, all of them are happy to be there. Back together.

"I thought we could try something," Damiano says. He pulls a piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans, it looks more ragged now, after all the folding and unfolding it went through. He looks at Thomas. "If you want to."

.#####.

Thomas comes back with Ethan in tow. You're reading a book that you suspect to be Ethan's on Thomas' sofa.

"You're still here?" Thomas looks at you surprised.

"Yes." You swallow. "Did you want me to le-"

"NO!" He's fast to interrupt you and then sinks down next to you on the sofa. "I want you to stay. I want both of you to stay."

You kiss him on the nose and Ethan sits down on your side.

When you're all cuddled up together, you can see a tattoo flash when Thomas' waistband slides down his hips slightly.

"I didn't see this last night." You look at it interested and then tilt your head to look at his face. "Is there a meaning behind this?"

"I'm the snake, the little star is also me, I guess, but it's a story Ethan made up for me. And the colosseum, I missed Rome but … I fell in love you that day we met in front of it and went sightseeing together."

You cuddle up together, watch a film together, and Thomas takes some selfies of you all together. Him cuddled up against you, your head resting on his shoulders and Ethan next to you, his arm around the both of you.

He sends the pic to Vic.

Look who's back together? Just an idiot with his bandmate and some girl.

.#####.

END

All my friends told me you'd break my heart

Taglist:

Warnings: Mentions of an abusive relationship, some smut, angst and the big sad but with a happy end

Other: Thanks to the anon and Alba @maneskings who wanted this story <3

I wanted to make Vivi likeable in the beginning and there's a version where she is but it didn't work as well. There had to be the contrast between everything going wrong for him and seemingly everything going right on the outside and seemingly everything going right for Reader but in reality it doesn't.

And I wanted to make clear that obviously this is fiction and not reality. This is as it said everything going wrong.

@writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @lauraosheaoh, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs (I think you put the wrong handle on the form?), @paralianeyes, @roisinmillar (same here? sorry guys, I can't add you when you give me a name of a blog that doesn't exist), @livvyysstuff

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