#THE SHEER WARMTH OF HIS PRESENCE HOW IT WASHES OVER YOU WHILE READING

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 04 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 7,2k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I felt full, something I hadn't experienced since he’d walked out on me all those years ago. In the end, it was him — only him — that I needed in my life, his presence washing away any lingering pain I may carry. In that moment, I realized I was utterly lost; like Eve after taking a bite of the apple, I knew I could never be the same again after falling for Dave Mustaine.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, mxf sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, recreational drug use, drinking

✦ a/n: Hey everyone, I'm back! Sorry for the longer wait this time, buuuut check it out — this part right here is the longest I've ever written for this fic, lol. It's all about Dave and Nore this time, but don't worry, James will be back in the next one. Hope you enjoy the read, and feel free to give me any feedback! ❤

✧ All along I believed I would find you / Time has brought your heart to me / I have loved you for a thousand years / I'll love you for a thousand more ✧

March 20, 1992

The weeks that followed were a crazy rollercoaster ride of emotions, swinging back and forth between moments of sheer joy and heart-wrenching pain.

The heartache was all because of James and his stubborn determination to shut me out. No matter how hard I tried to reach him, he just kept slipping through my fingers, ignoring my calls and voicemails like they were yesterday's news. I knew he always needed some space after our blowouts, but his radio silence only made me feel even more miserable. All I wanted was for him to understand how crucial it was for me to patch things up with Dave, but getting that across to James felt like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube in the dark. And with each passing year, it seemed like he was building higher walls around himself, burying himself deeper in his anger and his grief, leaving me feeling utterly lost.

Amidst all the drama with James, there was a shining beacon of hope in my days: Dave. Since our reunion, he'd become a constant presence in my life once again. There were few grievances that could resist nearly a decade of longing; as we reconnected, the pain and uncertainty of our past faded into the background, replaced by a feeling of warmth and contentment. Losing Dave had left a gaping hole in my heart, but finding him again reminded me that I wasn't alone in my struggles. He, too, had gone through his own share of tough times while we were apart. Together, we found comfort in each other's company, and our bond just kept getting stronger with each passing day.

After that first kiss, I couldn't help but keep gravitating back into his arms. We fell into a routine of seeing each other practically every day, squeezing in time between my acting gigs and Dave's life as a musician. If Dave was already sweet when we were younger, now that he was rolling in money from his music career, my place turned into a constant shrine of his love. Every day, there'd be a new batch of flowers — chrysanthemums, roses, sunflowers, tulips, lavenders — each carefully chosen to brighten up my place. It was like living in a fragrant dream, like my heart had decided to blossom right there in his presence.

But his affection wasn't just about the gifts. Almost every night, I'd find myself welcoming him into my home or heading over to his apartment. We weren't big on going out, preferring to just chill together, maybe have dinner or simply chat, lounging on the couch with our fingers intertwined and my head nestled against his shoulder. Whatever was brewing between us felt so special, so fresh, that we kind of wanted to keep it all to ourselves. I mean, I knew once we started parading around in public, everyone would catch on to the fact that we were together, and honestly, I wasn't quite ready for that. Dave felt the same way. We both agreed to keep our little love bubble just between us for just a little while longer.

Of course, there was this undeniable desire bubbling between us. It lingered in the long, passionate kisses we shared, in how he always reached out to touch me whenever we were together, in the little sighs that escaped me when his lips trailed from mine to my neck, in the fire I saw burning with increasing intensity in his hazel eyes.

But, even as the fire inside me burned hotter and hotter, I couldn't shake this newfound shyness. I mean, as an actress pushing 30, I'd say I'd mostly outgrown my shy phase from back in the day. But whenever he was around, it was like that bashful girl came roaring back to life, leaving me blushing and hesitant every time his body pressed against mine.

Dave was patient, as he had always been; now that everything between us was crystal clear, he was practically glued to my side, wearing this grin that mirrored my own happiness. The more we hung out, the more it solidified in my mind: I still loved him. And the fact that he seemed to feel the same felt like a little miracle, a light of joy and certainty amidst all the chaos in my life.

That Friday night played out just like the ones before it: Dave rolled up to my place right on the dot at 8 p.m., holding a gorgeous bunch of violets and daisies. But this time, he came bearing even more goodies — a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm, which had me scrambling to help before he dropped something and disaster struck.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, taking the pizza box from him. With his hand free, he slipped it around my waist, pulling me in close and planting a kiss on my lips that sent me giggling, my cheeks flushing with warmth.

"Hey," he whispered against my lips, his smile melting into mine. "I've got some movies rented for us. And I brought some joints too, they're out in the car."

"So, you've got our evening all planned out?" I teased, and he chuckled, his hazel eyes twinkling as he kissed my temple. "Well, don't just stand there, come on in."

I headed to the kitchen and set the pizza box down on the table. Dave trailed behind me, and I gave him a hand with the wine bottle before he handed over the bouquet.

"I brought you some different flowers this time," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. I took a whiff, smiling at the sweet scent of the bouquet. Dave reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You like them?"

"I absolutely adored them, Dave. Thanks," I answered, letting out a surprised gasp as he pulled me in by the waist, cradling my chin gently in his hand before kissing me. His tongue pressed against my lips, coaxing them to part, and I couldn't help but surrender to his kiss with a contented sigh.

I shut my eyes, relishing the familiar scent of him and the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He set the bouquet down on the table without breaking our kiss, then drew me in close again, his hand resting gently on the small of my back. Dave's presence stirred something inside us both, a slow-burning fire that we couldn't ignore, an undeniable longing to be close to each other. And oh, how I craved him, with a passion that felt almost overwhelming, leaving me utterly breathless.

He trailed kisses down to my neck, mixing in little nips that sent shivers down my spine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, closing my eyes and melting into his embrace as I tilted my head back. He held me closer, his hands firm on my hips, and a low, breathy moan escaped my lips. He chuckled softly against my skin, planting a tender kiss on my lips before pulling away.

"I should probably grab the stuff from the car," he murmured, stepping back. I blinked, feeling a bit confused, my heart still racing, my skin tingling with warmth, trying to push aside the unexpected twinge of insecurity creeping in.

"Here," Dave returned, lugging a stack of movies. "I grabbed Star Wars 'cause you said you liked it. And the other one... Hey, you okay?" I blinked up at him, snapping out of my reverie, my brow furrowed as I stared at the flowers on the table. Dave came closer, brushing his fingers against my cheek. "Did I mess up the kiss or something?"

"Of course not," I reassured him with a soft smile.

"Then tell me," he whispered, his lips so close to mine, his breath tickling my cheek. "Hey. Let's not keep stuff bottled up, alright? I don't want us drifting apart again over this."

"It's just... Do you not wanna... y'know, fuck me?" I blurted out, feeling my cheeks flush as I saw Dave's eyes widen a bit in surprise. I glanced away, feeling embarrassed, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Sweetheart, where'd you get that idea?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair before gently tilting my chin up, making me meet his gaze.

"We were kissing, and then you bailed. I just... thought..." I trailed off as Dave grinned, shaking his head.

"Do you really think I wouldn't want you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky, his fingers trailing down my neck to my collarbone, moving with a gentle touch. "Do you think I don't wake up every day feeling like I'm living a dream now that you're back? I want you. But this is all new territory for me too..." He paused, letting out a sigh as I cupped his face in my hands, running my fingers over his features, captivated by how his expression softened under my touch. "I've had some rough relationship experiences, you know?" he continued. "And I don't wanna risk messing things up with you, babe. I don't wanna rush into anything."

"Some relationships?" I queried, intrigued by the plural. It was kind of weird to think about it, but of course, over all those years, Dave must've been with other people. I blinked, feeling an unexpected pang of jealousy creeping into my chest.

"Getting a bit jealous, huh?" he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. I huffed, rolling my eyes, and he chuckled. "I can tell you about them if you're curious... But can we eat first? I'm starving."

"Sure thing, let's chow down," I chuckled, snagging the flowers Dave had left on the table to put in a vase. "Just gotta give these babies a home first, right?"

After fixing up my new bouquet on the windowsill, I joined Dave at the table, and we both tucked into some pizza. Dave let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes as he savored the first bite.

"Someone's starving," I teased, shooting him a grin. He chuckled.

"Well, I've been stuck in the studio all day. Builds up an appetite, you know?"

"Well, spill the beans. Any other lucky ladies in your life?" I grinned, and he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You really dying to know that?"

"If you're up for sharing. Just curious," I shrugged. He smiled, letting out a soft sigh as he reclined in his chair.

"Alright, let's hear it. Where do I begin? So many lovers, I'm lost," he chuckled, a playful tone lacing his words, and I huffed, which earned a soft laugh from him. "Just teasing, babe. Alright, let's see, after we split… I had a thing for a couple months with that chick James used to hang out with from the record store, remember the blonde one?"

"Wait a sec," I interjected, eyebrows knit in confusion. "You're not talking about Pat, are you?"

"You remember her?" he asked, sounding surprised. I rolled my eyes, caught off guard.

"Of course I remember! That whole mess between us might've been avoided if she hadn't decided to feed you a load of crap," I remarked, giving him a puzzled look. "I had no clue you two were together at some point."

"Together is generous. It was more like just fucking. Ended when I found out she was messing around with my guitarist as well. So, naturally, I had to give him the boot... It was a whole thing," Dave explained, nonchalantly. He smirked a little at my incredulous face. "I mean, she was pissed at you and James, and I was too. Seemed like a good idea at the time, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, what a brilliant idea. Already regretting asking," I grumbled, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand, his fingers lacing with mine.

"You mad at me?" he grinned softly, though there was a glint of worry in his eyes.

"Course not. But if this is how your love life kicked off after we split, I don't even wanna picture the rest," I muttered, and he burst into laughter.

"Well, it got a bit better after that... I think. I mean, then I met Diana. We were together a few years. Actually thought I was gonna marry her," he confided, then smiled softly at my intrigued expression.

"And why didn't you?" I asked.

"She wasn't you," he said simply, and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. He chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. "And truth be told, we weren't the best match. I... I cheated on her. A lot. And she wasn't exactly faithful either. After we split, I dated around, but nothing ever got serious," he confessed, meeting my eyes with a faint smile. "Enough to quench your curiosity?"

"Guess so," I mumbled, staring at my hands. Dave's romantic history over the past few years sounded oddly similar to mine, a series of dead-end relationships and heartaches. I chewed on my lip, a rush of insecurity washing over me, but realizing why he wanted to take things slow between us; as happy as we were to find each other again, we both had our own baggage to unpack.

"And what about you?" he asked, pulling me back from my thoughts. I glanced up, meeting his inquisitive gaze. "You mentioned you and James split... When did that go down?"

I sighed, nibbling on my lip. Discussing my thing with James had become a touchy subject lately. Dealing with the growing distance between us wasn't easy, but I knew exactly where it all had begun.

"We didn't make it long after Cliff... passed," I admitted. Dave reached over to grab my hand again, giving it a comforting stroke. "It tore us apart, all of us. But it was tough 'cause... James has always been a big part of my life. We gave getting back together a shot a few times, but it never stuck," I said with a faint smile, shaking my head. "Didn't have any epic romances after that. Just some short flings and a bunch of casual stuff that left me feeling like love wasn't worth the hassle. And then..." I looked up, locking eyes with Dave, who was studying my face intently.

"And then?" he asked softly. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Then you found me," I finished, and Dave's smile widened, his eyes softening with a warmth that melted my heart.

"I'm glad I did," he murmured, rising from the table and gently running his fingers through my hair before leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead. I let out a soft chuckle, holding his face in my hands and giving him a light peck on the lips. Dave wrinkled his nose, a grin spreading across his face, clearly pleased. "Your kiss tastes like pizza," he teased, and I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance.

"Shut it, Mustaine," I shot back, and he chuckled before stepping away to gather the plates from the table and wash them. I got up to help him tidy the table. "Still up for that movie?”

"Sure. You wanna pick?" he said, passing me the stack of videotapes. I glanced over the movies Dave had brought: Star Wars, like he’d said, plus a couple of action flicks, and one I was pretty familiar with.

"Hey, remember when we caught this on my birthday once?" I grinned, holding up the cover of one of Indiana Jones’ movies. Dave smiled back, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Course, I remember. How could I forget? Your folks gave you that badass motorcycle, right? And I got you a necklace as a gift."

"I still have it," I admitted, grinning. "Kept safe in my jewelry box."

"I didn't think you'd hold onto it," Dave replied, softly. I smiled, stepping closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and planting a gentle kiss on his jawline.

"Did you think I'd toss away the only thing I had left from you?" I whispered, and he let out a soft sigh, his eyes locking onto mine with intensity as he cupped my face in his hand.

"We better dive into this movie before I change my mind about taking things slow," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, and I let out a gentle laugh.

The rest of the night sailed by smoothly; we cozied up to watch the movie, sipping on wine and enjoying a few of the joints Dave had brought along. As the movie neared its end and our stomachs started rumbling again, we seized the chance to polish off a bit more of the pizza.

As the credits started rolling, I felt my eyelids drooping, more relaxed and at ease than I had been in ages as I nestled into Dave's lap, my head resting on his shoulder while he held onto my waist tight.

"I gotta head out," he finally murmured, and I grumbled softly, burying my face in his chest.

"You don't have to," I replied, and he laughed tenderly. I pulled back, meeting his hazel eyes, mirroring the unease I felt: we both knew that staying apart was way harder now that we'd finally found each other again. "Can't you crash here?"

"Wish I could, but you know I got that flight tomorrow, right?" he asked gently, and I let out a sigh. Of course, I remembered; Dave was jetting off the next day for a string of shows that'd keep him busy for two weeks. It was a quick tour, but I was already feeling his absence. Dave seemed to sense the same because he lifted my chin, nudging it up a bit so I'd meet his eyes. "Why don't you come along? I'm sure we can sort something out."

"I can't. Got a shareholders' powwow at my folks' company this weekend... Plus, I'm gearing up to start filming that TV series. Gonna be one hell of a week," I sighed, then flashed a soft smile. "But it'll be alright. You'll ring me, yeah?"

"Of course, babe. Every day. I swear," he promised.

April 3rd, 1992

The next few days zipped by with all my stuff going on. Things stayed pretty much the same; James and I still weren't talking, and it was really getting to me. Dave stayed true to his word and called me; even though we didn't have much time to chat with everything going on, we managed to touch base at least a bit every day, which put a smile on my face as I tackled my busy schedule.

Despite my worries about James, Dave being around made me feel a bit better, a subtle kind of happiness that brightened up my days like the sun on a spring morning. Then, the weekend before Dave's return started creeping closer. I had just arrived home, completely wiped out after a long day of shooting before finally getting a few days off, when I heard my phone start ringing. I grinned, eager to chat with Dave and hear about his day, but it wasn't his voice on the other end that greeted me when I answered the call.

"Hello? Can I speak with Nore Burton, please?" came a hesitant voice through the line. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Hey, it's me. Who's that?" I replied.

"Oh, hey. Marty here, Marty Friedman," the voice introduced itself, though it didn't ring any immediate bells. "I jam with Dave in Megadeth..."

"Oh. Is everything alright with him? Did something go down?" I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my tone. The past couple of weeks had seen Dave and I settle into a rhythm, one that hadn't been disturbed until this moment. It wasn't like him to miss a call, let alone have one of his bandmates reach out instead. I wasn't exactly fond of receiving bad news over the phone, but I attempted to soothe my nerves; perhaps it wasn't anything that serious. Maybe he was just tied up and didn't want to leave me hanging without updates.

"Uh, yeah, he’s doing okay,” Marty chimed in, eager to ease my mind. "But things have been kinda rough for him... He slipped up yesterday, and he's been mentioning you so much that our producer thought it might be cool to reach out, see if you'd be up for spending the weekend with him..."

"Wait a sec. What do you mean, he slipped up?" I interjected, feeling a bit puzzled.

"Oh, shit. He didn't clue you in, huh?" Marty's tone shifted, a touch of tension creeping in. "Well, he just got out of rehab not too long ago. And you know, the whole touring grind can be brutal. I guess he was really missing you, and it kinda got to him."

I blinked, caught off guard. Dave hadn't breathed a word about hitting rehab, let alone wrestling with any sort of substance issue. I flashed back to our last hangout, where we'd shared a drink and a smoke, nothing too wild. Maybe Marty was hinting at something more hardcore than just booze or weed, but I brushed it off; Dave needed me, plain and simple. I couldn't stand the thought of not being there for him.

"Marty," I said, firmly. "Where are you guys crashing this weekend?"

 

April 4th, 1992

I showed up early at the gig spot where Megadeth was set to rock out, a massive concert hall, a far cry from the dingy dives we used to hang at back in the day. I was feeling a bit worn out from the last-minute flight, but as the moment to see Dave drew nearer, my exhaustion morphed into an excitement that made it tough to focus on anything else.

I linked up with Marty at the venue entrance, about an hour before showtime. It was cool finally putting a face to the voice: Marty turned out to be shorter than I'd pictured, sporting a wild mane of curls cascading down his back and a warm grin.

"Hey there. You must be Nore," he greeted with a friendly grin, and I returned it as we shook hands. "How was the flight?"

"Hey, Marty," I smiled back. "It was smooth, thanks. So, where's Dave?"

"Oh, he's buzzing around, getting stuff sorted for the gig. He's clueless you're here," Marty chuckled, and I joined in softly. Keeping my arrival under wraps from Dave had been my little scheme. I didn't want him stressing about it, but I was also itching to see the look on his face when he found out. "Come on, let's go surprise him."

We navigated through the backstage area, which was pure pandemonium, just as I expected with less than an hour to showtime. Roadies hustled, instruments and equipment being shuffled around everywhere. In the midst of the chaos, I couldn't help but notice a gaggle of girls who clearly weren't part of the crew. They stood on the sidelines, watching the frenzy with giggles and hushed chatter. Groupies weren't anything new on the Metallica tours I used to attend, and I was used to their presence, but I couldn't help but furrow my brow when I caught them exchanging glances and whispers as soon as they spotted me, their excitement morphing into something more cautious.

"What's with all the hush-hush?" I inquired, more intrigued than worried, directing my question to Marty. He glanced around, momentarily puzzled, before catching onto the girls' gossip and bursting into a hearty laugh.

"Ah, they're a bit miffed 'cause Dave's been giving zero attention to any of the ladies on this tour. Now he's always talking about you; reckon some of them are feeling a tad put out."

"Oh," I murmured, feeling a flush creeping up my cheeks. I hadn't even considered the presence of other girls on Dave's tours, but Marty's tidbit had my stomach doing somersaults, a newfound sense of assurance spreading through me.

We finally reached a quieter backstage area, a secluded corridor lined with closed doors. Marty and I made our way to one of them; upon stepping inside, I found myself in one of the dressing rooms, complete with a stocked fridge and cozy sofas strewn about. A guy, clutching a pair of drumsticks and sporting a ponytail of dark, flowing locks, rose from his seat at the sight of us.

"Hey, Marty! Who's the hottie?" he greeted, flashing me a smile as soon as he caught sight of me. I felt my cheeks heat up, instinctively taking a step back, but Marty swiftly positioned himself between us.

"Pipe down, Nick. This is Dave's lady," Marty retorted, and Nick's eyebrows shot up, his demeanor instantly turning guarded. Marty let out a sigh, turning to me. "Nore, meet Nick, our drummer. He's always a bit like this, don't pay him no mind."

"Hey," Nick called out from a distance, and I returned his greeting with a slight smile. "Sorry 'bout the 'hot' comment. Please don't tell Dave, I don’t want him to kick me in the nuts," he added, looking genuinely worried, which almost made me laugh.

Before I could answer Nick, the dressing room door swung open, drawing our attention. I couldn't help but smile as Dave strolled in, deep in conversation with a familiar face: David Ellefson, whom I'd crossed paths with years ago in Los Angeles.

"I don’t give a shit if he thinks we're idiots, I just… Nore?" Dave's voice trailed off abruptly as he caught sight of me, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. I offered a nervous but hopeful smile, my heart thumping in my chest as our gazes locked. He made his way over to me in quick strides, seeming unsure how to react. "Holy crap, what are you doing here?”

"I came to see you," I murmured softly. Dave's expression lit up with delight, and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled me into a kiss, his hands cradling my face tenderly. A surprised gasp escaped me as he drew me closer, wrapping me in a tight embrace before eventually releasing me. Stepping back, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and my breath coming in uneven bursts. "Dave!" I exclaimed, my heart still racing as I glanced around, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. But Marty, David, and Nick all seemed to be suddenly engrossed in anything but our interaction. Dave chuckled.

"Sorry 'bout that. Couldn't help it," he murmured, gently running his fingers through my hair, and I couldn't help but smile back.

The show kicked off before I knew it; I found myself perched near the stage, snagging a spot where I could catch all the action without getting underfoot. Watching Dave do his thing was mesmerizing; sure, I knew one or two Megadeth songs, but I'd never mustered the guts to catch 'em live. Dave upstage had this magnetic energy all his own, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I was genuinely pumped to be at a gig.

After the show wrapped up, the whole team congregated backstage to toast to a job well done, while the guys took the chance to rinse off and swap out their sweaty gear. I thought about snagging a beer, though I didn't intend on throwing back too many; my main goal was to keep Dave's spirits up, not to get plastered myself. As I made my way toward one of the coolers stocked with drinks, I accidentally collided with someone. I jumped, nearly losing my footing, but the person caught me just in time.

"Whoops, my bad," the guy flashed me a grin, and I recognized him as one of the sound techs, a dude a few years younger than me with dark hair, a set of dimples and dark eyes that practically screamed interest when he spotted me. "Hey there, I don't think we've met. I'm Brad. You new around here?"

"Uh, well..." I started, but before I could get another word out, I felt a reassuring weight on my shoulder. Glancing up, I spotted Dave, who had slung an arm around me, drawing me into a protective hug.

"Hey babe," Dave greeted, though his focus seemed locked onto Brad, who appeared to shrink a bit under his gaze. "Everything cool over here? You need anything?"

"Uh, I... I was just grabbing a beer, Dave. It's all good," I responded, feeling a slight flush creeping into my cheeks.

"Hey, Brad. Grab my girlfriend a beer, would you?" Dave's voice took on a hint of authority as he addressed Brad, his eyes still fixed on the younger man's face, a small smile playing at his lips. My stomach fluttered with a whirlwind of emotions, my heart racing. Even though we'd been seeing each other for weeks, it was the first time Dave had called me that.

"Ah... Sure thing, boss," Brad stuttered, swiftly turning to fetch a couple of beers. He handed them over to me and Dave before making a quick exit. I glanced up at Dave, who watched Brad go with a furrowed brow and tight lips.

"You alright?" I inquired softly. Finally, he turned his attention to me, his expression softening as he offered a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good. How 'bout you? Enjoy the show?" he asked, and I nodded, returning his smile. "Let's grab a seat, I'm fucking beat."

The next few hours breezed by; I was content snuggling up on the couch beside Dave, his hand never straying far from my hip or finding its way to my thigh as he bantered and laughed with the crew and the band.

It had been ages since I'd hung out backstage at a gig; soon enough, the party vibe started ramping up. But I could sense Dave growing uneasy, his eyes darting around anxiously when one of his roadies rolled in with some blow to pass around. I decided I'd had my fill; with Dave's recent slip-up in mind, I wasn't about to stick around in an environment that would put him on edge.

"Dave," I murmured, squeezing his hand softly, the buzz from the beer warming my cheeks but not quite enough to cloud my senses. "I'm tired... Can we bail?"

"Sure thing, babe." He jumped up without hesitation, indicating he was more than ready to split. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Where to?"

"I just wanna head back to the hotel. Maybe take a hot shower and grab a bite. Sounds good?" I suggested.

"Sounds perfect to me," he grinned.

Dave didn't seem surprised when he realized we were both crashing at the same hotel. He walked me to my floor, our hands linked, fingers intertwined, until we reached my room. I swung the door open and let him in. Turning to face him, I paused for a beat. He was right there, so close, his hazel eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine — a longing I hadn't quite picked up on until we were alone.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered hoarsely, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before drawing back slightly. I gazed at him, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through me, my desire for him growing stronger by the second. With one hand, I slowly caressed his chest, drawing my mouth closer to his once more.

He let out a sigh as I kissed him, starting off slow but quickly heating up into a passionate kiss, our tongues dancing in perfect harmony as he drew me even closer. With a gentle push, he guided me backward into the room, the kiss unbroken. I vaguely registered the sound of the door closing behind us as his hands roamed my body with growing hunger.

"What happened to taking it slow?" I teased, and he let out a scoff, laughing.

"You want me to dial it back, Burton? 'Cause I can always head back to my room if that's what you're after," he joked, and I chuckled softly, pulling him in for another kiss.

"You talk too much, Mustaine," I murmured, a grin playing on my lips, and he laughed, taking off my shirt before diving back into our kiss.

I guided him down, settling him onto the bed before straddling his lap, my knees nestled around his hips. He let out a contented sigh as I peppered his neck with kisses, leisurely unbuttoning his shirt. A soft moan escaped my lips when his hand trailed up my thigh, slipping under my skirt and gripping my ass. With a gasp of surprise, I found myself lifted effortlessly, gently laid back onto the bed as he pressed his body against mine. My hands roamed down his muscular arms as I finished taking off his shirt.

A soft moan escaped me as he trailed kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck, working his way down to my collarbone. His hand found its way to my back, skillfully unclasping my bra. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trembling as he took one of my breasts into his mouth, his tongue circling my nipple deliberately while his other hand cupped my other breast. It was everything I'd been craving; every touch set my skin ablaze, as if my body just wanted him closer and closer, until there was nothing in the world but the two of us.

He kept on sucking at my breasts so tenderly that my whole body was tingling, sending shivers down my spine and making me ache for more. My arousal surged, the wetness between my legs throbbing with desire. Then, he went lower, lifting my skirt until it pooled around my waist, parting my legs gently. His breath felt hot against the damp fabric of my panties as he looked up at me, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"You want me to fuck you that much?" he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. I let out a sigh, my body trembling as I felt his warm breath against my skin. "You're fucking drenched," he murmured, and I gasped in response, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He planted slow kisses along the inside of my thigh, giving it a light nip before slowly sucking on the tender skin, leaving behind a mark that I knew would linger after he was gone. I whimpered, my clit pulsing with anticipation, craving his touch, but he seemed determined to savor every moment. Pulling back, he pressed a gentle kiss to my skin before moving to another spot, and then another, teasing and nibbling while his thumbs traced soothing circles on my thighs.

"Dave..." I sighed, pleaded, tears welling up in my eyes as I felt my entire body tense with desire. It was overwhelming; his touch was driving me wild, slow and deliberate, and I couldn't help but feel like I was on the brink of ecstasy, completely consumed by the moment.

I felt full, something I hadn't experienced since he’d walked out on me all those years ago. In the end, it was him — only him — that I needed in my life, his presence washing away any lingering pain I may carry. In that moment, I realized I was utterly lost; like Eve after taking a bite of the apple, I knew I could never be the same again after falling for Dave Mustaine.

I whimpered with pleasure as I felt his warm breath against my core, a tear or two slipping down my cheeks as I arched my back. Dave grunted softly as he peeled off my panties, then stripped away my skirt, leaving me completely exposed. He parted my swollen lips, his tongue teasing my clit.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against my sensitive flesh. I nodded eagerly, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tangled my fingers in his hair. He chuckled softly. "Just had to mark you first... Let everyone know you're mine now."

The way he said it sent a jolt through my whole body, a sharp moan escaping my lips. I knew I was on the edge, his touch pushing me closer and closer to the brink. And when he finally started to eat me out, his tongue swirling in slow circles, I couldn't hold back any longer. My whole body tensed, my heart racing, as I curled my toes and pulled him closer, consumed by a hunger that made him groan.

He gripped my thigh firmly, his hand gently clasping mine, our fingers laced together as I shut my eyes. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes, mingling with the pleasure coursing through me. With my eyes closed, it was just him and me — his warm breath, the leisurely flicks of his tongue, his soft kisses, the gentle pressure of his fingers against my skin. His other hand held mine, tracing slow caresses along my flesh and it felt so, so good, that I never wanted him to stop.

"D-Dave..." I murmured as the tension in my belly mounted, opening my eyes to meet his intense gaze, seemingly captivated by my reactions. "Dave, I'm gonna... Oh!" I gasped as he released my hand, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them just right, setting off a wave of intense contractions that mingled with my growing moans, each one louder than the last.

I was pretty sure anyone walking by in the hallway could hear me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not when my orgasm surged through me, his fingers working tirelessly inside me as I arched my back, lost in the ecstasy washing over me again, and again, and again.

When he finally eased off, I was completely spent, my body feeling like lead as I struggled to catch my breath. He chuckled softly, wiping his chin with one hand before settling back down on top of me, planting slow kisses on my cheek as he shed the rest of his clothes. I let out a soft moan as he slid inside me, still sensitive from my climax, and I felt my body clench around him as I adjusted to his size. He groaned softly, nuzzling into my neck.

"I love you," he whispered, and I moaned softly as he pressed his body against mine, fully inside me before slowly pulling back, his gaze locked with mine. "I love you," he murmured again, easing back into me with a slow, steady rhythm that elicited more moans from me, my nails digging into the flesh of his arms. "Say you love me too... I know you do."

"I-I love you too, Dave, oh..." I replied, my voice teary as he thrust deeper inside me. He grunted, one hand tangling in my hair while the other braced against the bed. Leaning in, his lips crashed against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I clung to him, wrapping my legs around his hips.

"I missed you for so, so long," he murmured against my mouth, a blend of anguish and pleasure evident in his voice. I brought one of my hands up to his face, gently stroking it as I pulled back slightly to look at him. "Can’t fucking live without you. Not if you aren’t with me."

"I'm here now," I said softly, and he nodded before kissing me again. I sighed, feeling the heat building in my body as he moved inside me, his movements growing more erratic with each thrust. "I'm here, Dave. I'm not going anywhere."

"No matter how far you go, I will always find my way back to you. Okay?" he murmured against my ear, and I nodded, letting out a soft moan. "Always," he groaned, his voice rough, as he held me tightly against him. "I promise. I promise..."

I let out a loud moan as my second orgasm washed over me, my body trembling in waves as I buried my face in his hair, clinging to him as if I never wanted to let go. He grunted, his movements growing rougher and more erratic before he also reached his climax, his warmth flooding into me before his body collapsed. Our sweat and tears of pleasure mingled together as he peppered my lips with a million little kisses. I chuckled softly, my heart racing, my body still ablaze as he pulled away from me, lying down next to me with a contented sigh.

We lay there for a bit, cuddled up as we caught our breath, Dave running his fingers softly through my hair. I nestled my head against his chest, listening to the quick rhythm of his heartbeat as he kept me tight.

"Dave?" I finally spoke up, feeling a bit unsure, my mind drifting back to why I had come to see him in the first place.

"Hmm?" he replied groggily. I shifted, sitting up a bit and leaning on my arm to look at him. His gaze seemed distant as he traced his thumb along my lower lip in a gentle touch.

"Why... Why didn't you tell me about rehab?" I questioned softly. Dave blinked, caught off guard, his expression shifting from surprise to a familiar pain.

"Is that why you're here? Who told you that?" he inquired, his voice rough and low. I nodded, uncertainly.

"Marty did. But it seems like it was your producer's bright idea... He claimed the tour was taking its toll on you. Said you had a slip-up."

"Did he now?" Dave's tone was laced with bitterness.

"Dave, I’m sure he meant well," I reassured him, running my fingers lightly over his chest. "And besides, Marty made me swear not to let you chew him out for telling me," I added, earning a chuckle from him, the tension easing a bit.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping my face in his hand, his thumb tracing circles on my cheek. "It's been rough dealing with all this. I didn't want you to see me as a screw-up."

"I'd never see you that way," I reassured him softly.

"I just felt like crap after slipping up. I was making progress, but the road life, man, it's fucking draining. And missing you... It hit me harder than I thought," he admitted.

"Babe, it's all right. You're not a failure for this. What counts is that you're putting in the effort," I reassured him, and he let out a soft sigh.

"You make me want to be better," he murmured. "It's always been that way; I never quite got why you liked me, but I wanted to be better. For you," he said, holding my hand in his, pressing gentle kisses on my fingertips. "I love you. But you don't have to save me."

"I know. But I want to help," I said, and kissed him softly. "Please, just let me."

"You're already doing wonders," he smiled, and I returned the smile, nuzzling into his embrace as he held me close.

"I love you, Dave," I whispered, relishing his closeness, his fingers tenderly running through my hair. He mumbled in response, a satisfied sound.

"I love you too," he murmured back, his voice gravelly, before letting out a sigh. "Thanks... for letting me."

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)

[onyxoverride]

Curiosity Killed The Cat...

Sukuna x Reader

◙warnings: Monster fucking, monster tongue cunnilingus, size kink ish, full nelson, a bit of objectification, virgin! reader, blood kink, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, belly bulge and lowkey cumflation, I say you’re “small” but it’s compared to him and he’s huge, marking, smut minors dni (18+) I block blogs with no age indication

◙word count: 3k

◙summary: You’re too curious for your own good but this experience is too satisfying to pass up. Especially with a powerful monster such as this.

◙note: make sure to read the warnings real good please <3

All your life your technique has gotten you in trouble. Not just your technique but the combination of its ability and your personality is… chaotic at best.

The sheer amount of times your mother has said “Curiosity killed the cat,” is uncountable. But you are all too stubborn, too curious. A simple fascination with the bizarre and unknown can get you in dangerous situations, yes. But the satisfaction of knowing, experiencing is too euphoric to give up.

Plus, you could keep shifting into different domains to escape if anything particularly hostile showed up. It’s not like you weren’t trained either but being the ephemeral child of the estate, fading in and out too often to put your focus onto being train in close combat. What a dangerous sorcerer you could be if you put your mind to it. You are just too inquisitive, prying at the seams of every single thing you know or learn, to try to focus on something so simple, so boring like close combat. Which has grown increasingly frustrating with your mentors and parents.

But who cares? You get to see oceans in the blink of an eye, curious voids made of shadows, places that look like they’ve been taken over by nature, and others that have no life insight. Repetitive buildings that go on forever, others that reach higher than the sky. Some are much more ominous but the strength of your curiosity overpowers any fear you could possibly hold.

Each day you keep trying to find a new sight, a new place to adventure. Sometimes it’s harder than it looks. The best places have the best barriers, so powerful it feels like you bounce off them but they never resist long. Some who reside in that domain are curious too, usually, they are not home or you can evade them quite easily. They become too comfortable in their own domains but it’s not like you are trying to hurt them.

Mother is calling you again before you run off somewhere she won’t be able to find you, looking particularly frantic this time, tugging at your yukata.

“Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you should be hopping around like a stupid frog in others domains. You’re too reckless, we won’t be able to find you if something happens,” she is panting as she holds her chest, “you know, what I’ve been telling you is true — curiosity-”

“Curiosity kills the cat,” every time she says that it feels like it’s incomplete, that there’s something missing. You roll your eyes and huff a bit but it’s not like she can stop you from leaving, “I know. I’ll be safe.”

That’s a lie. At least you never try to be safe even though you evade most of the curses. You learn as you watch them, you learn when they try to chase after you or even talk.

Wiggling your mother’s grip off you, you slip behind a corner and when she tries to follow you, you’re already gone. Slipping away quickly out of this reality and into the next. She didn’t get to tell you about the bad feeling she had.

Wet. That’s the first thing you can process when you enter this new domain. Red liquid soaking the edges of your yukata. Something blood-like but more like wine. Then it’s the overbearing weight of a fear that you’ve never felt before. An involuntary reaction, something akin to when prey realize the eyes of a hunter is on them — a feeling to run or freeze or fight washes over you but still this fear is nothing compared to your interest in what the hell is here with you.

It’s almost hard to lift your head at the weight, slowly dragging your eyes upwards, over ram skulls and the curious liquid that you’re starting to realize is definitely a mixture of blood, up to a throne and on the throne-

Whoever you’re looking at is big — thick muscly legs exposed casually as he sits, four arms swirling around a ram skull, looking bored but each of his four eyes shine. A smirk set on his cheeks and a heavy smile on his belly.

Interesting, is the first thing he thinks when he feels you enter. When he sees you the second thought is this will be fun. Is it strange you are thinking something similar?

He stares at you — a challenge of whether or not you will speak or him. But you meet his eyes, which most don’t dare, and a sly, satisfied smile stretches on your face.

A split second is all it takes for him to disappear. When you try you look around, feet shuffling backward to try to see more you’re met with a broad chest. Two hands ghosting over your ribs and another bringing your face back to look at him. No, for him to look at you. To inspect you.

“It’s not often a human stumbles upon my domain,” voice rough and demanding just like his presence, vibrating through your body as he pulls you close to him.

You’re hesitant to speak, what could you even say? You’re special? Or that you’re stupid enough to do this shit?

Before you can even try to formulate a response, the hand holding your face wraps loosely around your throat. Not squeezing but enough of a threat to make you swallow — skin warm, blood pumping with adrenaline. It’s almost deafening — the blood making your ears feel full and able to hear every little movement his kimono makes. You can hear the mouth on his belly move before you feel it. Matching the sadistic smile he wears on his face. You are so much smaller than him, so powerless before him. It’s not like you could activate your technique with him touching you either. Maybe you should have listened to your mother-

“You’re soft but with a technique like this you could be useful,” the two hands that were just ghosting your body press into your hips, groping at what they can, “your body too.”

His nails skim over the skin his hands can find exposed, jostling your yukata until more and more of your skin is bare to him. Part of you feels like maybe you should stop his hands, back away, figure a way out of this domain but… this is exactly what you wanted isn’t it? The excitement, the thrill, the satisfaction of experiencing something new.

Under thick hands and sharp nails, he can feel your blood rushing, warm and lively. Almost entranced with the feeling against your skin, you don’t even realize he’s turned you towards him, yukata thrown somewhere near some skulls and catching on their horns most likely. He shouldn’t be touching you, flinching away would be a reaction more warranted but why is it that you lean into his touch like so. Falling into his haunting warmth so obediently, his hands groping over soft supple skin and nails scratching so lightly over the doughiest parts of your body and molding into his muscles.

Snapping out of your trance just a bit, his tattoos cause your eyes to trail over his body as his own clothing falls off his body, carelessly. Prideful, like some ancient statue standing tall after years of wear and erosion that could never take away from its composition. He’s looking down at you like he would anybody but the lust that gleams in his eyes makes you feel special, wanted. Reaching a dainty hand out, tracing the edges of the mouth on his belly bellow rippling set abs. He holds his breath a bit — because no one has ever dared reach back for him.

Truly interesting you are, a sadistic smile settling on his face as two hands set under your ass, hiking you up to him even as you yelp in surprise. But you cling to him, finding comfort in the strength of his arms and it dawns on him once more, “you are so small.”

Small compared to him at least, almost kitten-like, “Small? Or are you just very big?” He throws his head back in a short raspy laugh, loud and echoing across walls you can’t see but it makes you smile nonetheless even as he holds you completely bare to him. Naked as the day you were born but no attempt to cover yourself, something wicked leaking from your bones as he holds you, hands big enough to cover the important parts of your body no matter what size, the softness of your thighs pressing between his fingers.

The audacity you have is so… you tread on a thin line but you’re finding your balance as he holds the line taut. Top set of hands trailing over your arms and breasts, caressing your neck as you bare it to him with sly heady eyes. This plaything just might be worth the trouble.

He presses your legs to his sides, cunt directly on the mouth of his belly as he lets it open. Fear is one thing that runs through your veins, the teeth looking quite intimidating near your nethers but it does nothing to bite. Letting a long slick tongue slink out and tease your folds, hands and nails digging into your ass sharply to keep your cunt pressed onto the tongue that is decorated with a similar tattoo like the ones that decorate his body.

“You’re untouched,” he can taste it on his tongue. Flowering into the heat of his body as he tastes your juices. A virgin. Perfect. As you should be, to be deflowered by him is an honor and you should be thanking him for even touching you. Letting your innocent cunt be defiled by a monstrous tongue… it just feels too good to stop. But it does make you squirm, his gaze and the rough texture of the tongue lapping at you combined with his nails digging far too deep into the flesh of your ass. Warm stinging pain as he holds you flush to his tongue, writhing while the red warmth glides slowly down, adding to the red liquid staining his feet. Fleetingly you wonder if this is how there is so much red water here. Not exactly blood but definitely could be a mix.

There’s no time to process the pain, he makes sure that you only feel pure unadulterated pleasure. The tip of the giant tongue writhing against your hole as if requesting access to your virgin cunt. Pressing in while you gasp at the feeling, the mixture between pain and lewd pleasure muddling your brain as you moan helplessly in his arms.

His four eyes catch everything. Soaking in the sight of your face, eyes rolling back and moaning shamelessly whenever his tongue rolls into you just right, he can feel you coming closer to rapture while your legs tremble. The smirk he wears is all too sexy, seductive. Falling so willingly into his arms with an overflowing curiosity for what you don’t yet know. He hums and oh when he does you can feel it vibrate through him and to the tip of the tongue that’s wiggling on the entrance of your cunt. You’ve long past the pleasure you can produce by yourself, with your own two fingers, now it’s a gasping almost painful rip starting from your cunt to your belly in waves. Cunt fluttering around the tip of the tongue that has droplets of blood on it either from your virgin pussy or from the blood produced from his nails.

You don’t even know what name to call out, and as if reading your thoughts he laughs at your depraved babbles being pushed out of your body.

“Sukuna,” he draws you closer to him in one breath, words ghosting over your face, “call my name, little moaning lamb.”

Trailing your hands across the markings on his body, across the sinew of his neck you moan into him as he looks down upon you, “Sukuna, please.”

He looks satisfied, prideful while your fingers graze his jaw, “please, what lamb?” A cue for you to use your words and no matter what you say he will destroy you.

Earlier he called you untouched, detecting your virginity like a snake, “touch me, please,” begging into his pectorals as he retracts the monstrous tongue back into his belly.

“Less of a lamb, more of a vixen,” you feel a large fleshy member slide across the blood that warms the globes of you behind. He chuckles at your shiver, letting the bulbous tip trace over your wet folds. A type of fear crosses your face and he savors the expression, handling you like a live ragdoll.

You know he wouldn’t listen if you ask him to go slower, to prepare your cunt for the stretch but you have an inkling of what he might be thinking, something about how you’re lucky enough to receive his tongue and how virgin pussy is the best when fucked raw and unprepared besides the wetness coating your thighs. It’s not like you want the nails digging into your behind to be inside you either, so you bear with his tip gliding along your slippery folds, getting stuck on your hole as he presses you lower and lower. Tip breaching your cunt with a loud gasp of pain and pleasure as you feel his laughter while bracing yourself against his chest. Your own nails dig into his chest, drawing some of his own blood but he basks in the feeling. Barely a stinging pain but just enough to know you’re pawing at his chest trying to bear the fullness of his cock stretching your rim. Basking in how you shiver against him, filled with pride.

“You should be thankful I am the one to be deflowering you. A God like me, bouncing you, a little helpless mortal, on my blessed cock,” he sinks you a bit lower, the fluttering of your tight hole making his tongue run across his teeth, “women would beg for me, but here you are. What should you be saying to me, little vixen?”

There’s only him feeling your head, his deep voice filling your body while his cock does the same, trying to formulate a response. Babbling out, “tha-thank you-” gasping once more, sinking one more inch or two, “thank you, so much, Sukuna.” You can feel his cock, or that of it that’s inside you, twitch as the sound of your voice.

“You will take all of me.”

He leaves no room for objections, not that you have any to plea for him to hear. Yet you still nod against his chest as he sinks you lower and lower. Luck looks upon you in the way that you are wet enough to take him so your hole does not tear. You feel so impossibly full. He’s in your guts while your walls encase him so tightly, any other man would be gasping in pleasure but he is no man. The occasional grunt he blesses you with while he fills you, now completely inside you, balls flush to your bloody ass. His other set of hands ghost over your chest, a quick fondle before wrapping around your ribs to bring you up and off until only the tip is in you once more and then bringing you mercilessly down again. The claw marks in his chest only get deeper while your yelps and moans echo off the unknown walls.

Beautiful claws sinking into his chest, he’s again hit with the fact that you are incredibly intriguing. You and your cunt enrapture him endlessly, falling him into a curious sentiment. A small human to ensnare him… he’s not sure if he likes the thought or not but what he does like — no, love — is you wailing on his cock about how you can feel all of him inside you. Slick your hole produces coating his cock so deliciously while your body accepts him wholly. You swear you could taste his cock in your throat if you focused hard enough, it does feel like your belly extends to accept him and as you finally gaze down to yourself, you realize it is.

With every thrust downwards his cock descends your tummy that he’s been watching this whole time and it only makes your gummy walls flutter rapidly around his cock once more, sending you over the edge once again, pulling an orgasm from your body.

He chuckles once more, watching as tears trail down your face, orgasm wracking your body as he continues to focus on your abdomen, hand trailing down to press at your stomach while the rest keep you steady and bouncing. Horrid wet slapping, fluids mixing together down his leg, groans resonating from his chest as he feels his hand through the skin of your abdomen. Your babbling moans and tears coating your face only spur him further, cock throbbing inside you as he releases his cum inside you. Ruthlessly filling all the spaces his cock couldn’t with a resounding grunt, cum gushing out of your cunt and most of it stretching your tummy even more than his cock before he pulls it out, white rushing out of your body while one more orgasm is pulled away from you.

Laying tired and used in his arms, he finally speaks “well, look at you vixen.”

You successfully took all of him, even if your body couldn’t handle the amount of cum he pumped into you he could just try again until he’s fully satisfied. Looking down at your sloppy cunt, covered in cum and trickling blood mixing with it and other liquids you can’t discern. Your hole feels like it’s gaping from the stretch his cock put you through. It is quite the sight for him to see, his cum claiming your insides and the marks on your behind claiming your outsides. You throw your head back into his hand and giggle. Red eyes peering down at you in curiosity, body buzzing and fuzzy, satisfied with your hands stroking his chest.

You finally remember what was missing from that stupid phrase your mother would preach to you:

“Curiosity killed the cat…

but satisfaction brought it back.”

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: @kenmachishi @novvabeam @armins-bowl-cut @yourtamaki @jeonmahito @peachysimp @thethyri @undereiner and thank you to all the people who said yes to belly bulge y’all really helped me: @pupimouto @junisfics @katsukied @aqueencomplexx @dabitdabi @jeankirstins @viixens @iit-s-kitty

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 !!

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[jslittlebirdie]

Here Without You

Pairing: Soft!Ledger!Joker x Reader

Summary: Your last days have been really bad and exhausting. There are always new problems you have to take care of, you feel tired and burnt out, and on top of that, J hasn't shown up for several days. That was until today.

Word count: 1,344

Genre: probably a bit angsty / fluffy comfort / self-insert

Warnings: Reader has a bad day, low self esteem

Notes: A very big thank you to my dearest best friend @fan-of-pretty-much-2-much for encouraging me to post this fic. What would I do without you, your support and love? I own you so much🥺😭 Also, thank you so incredibly much for this simply beautiful title💜

Well, this fic is a total self-insert😅 I basically wrote it for myself as a comfort. So it's probably too cheesy and my characterization of J is way too soft and ooc. But maybe someone will like it anyway, I don't know. So read at your own risk lol🙈 Also, the text is unedited and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Taglist: @ajokeformur-ray @sacredempressnatlyia @rommies

It had been days now since you last saw your clown. News reports were your only clues as to his whereabouts and well-being. You didn't blame him, he was a busy man - a free man who came and went as he pleased - and you wouldn't keep him from his business. Even though, if you were honest, you would love to not let him leave your apartment ever again, and instead keep him with you where you knew he was safe; not that he couldn't take care of himself.

But you missed him terribly. And on top of that, your doubts and insecurities were getting worse with each passing day. You probably weren't good enough for him, too boring and annoying with all your worries. Would he ever come back to you? Was he tired of you? Had you perhaps upset him without knowing it?

And today... Today was a particularly bad day. Already early in the morning the day had started with bad news, new things you had to take care of. Problems kept coming up, there just seemed to be no end in sight. Once you had taken care of one thing, two new things popped up. You felt overwhelmed, burned out and tired. You longed for a break. You longed for him.

A familiar noise. But you only heard it very distantly. You were far too lost in your sad and gloomy thoughts. You sat on your bed and stared at the wall. Your eyes hurt because you tried to hold back your tears as hard as you could, even though you knew it was wrong. But you wanted to stay strong, not show any weakness.

The noise came closer, heavy footsteps. The door to your room cracked open and a face painted with makeup peered in, looking for you. When J spotted you, he grinned mischievously. But his good mood soon changed when he saw you in this miserable state. He immediately noticed that something was wrong, even if he didn't quite know what it was yet. So he entered your room without waiting for you to give him your permission. And even when J stood right in front of you and looked at you with his beautiful dark eyes, which actually showed a hint of concern, you hardly reacted, which admittedly only worried him more. Because you normally ran up to him at the first sign of his presence. But today was... different. And he didn't like it at all.

"What's the matter, toots, hm? I'm back, I'm here."

You stared at him, but you couldn't see him. You hadn't quite realized yet that he was truly standing in front of you. It seemed more like your mind was playing a trick on you - an evil trick to torture you even more. "I'm so sorry, J," you finally uttered. It wasn't so much directed at him as you were talking to yourself.

"You're sorry for what?" He frowned thoughtfully. He couldn't remember anything you had done that you needed to apologize for. But it wasn't a surprise that you apologized in the first place. You apologized for the smallest things, sometimes even for apologizing. But this time, he was a little bit confused.

"I don't know. That I annoyed you with... with me being the way I am. I don't know, okay?!" That was the moment you snapped back to reality. You saw him. Standing in front of you, in his usual slightly bent posture, his head tilted to one side as he tried to figure things out. And that's when you couldn't hold back your tears any longer.

Intuitively, J leaned down towards you and reached out to cup your face with his gloved hands. But you flinched away from him, too ashamed and insecure. "No, J. Don't!"

But he didn't let that stop him. Even though you had said the exact opposite, he could tell by the look in your eyes how much you wanted him. And it caused a strange feeling to rise in his chest - he wasn't sure what to think of it, so he just shrugged it off and focused all of his attention back on you. He sat down next to you, wrapped his arms around your body that was trembling with tension, and gently pulled you to him. This time you let it happen; the second he touched you, you were like putty in his hands. Moments later you found yourself on his lap and you couldn't help but cling to him as tightly as you could, your tear-streaked face buried in his broad chest, inhaling his scent between heavy sobs - a mixture of burnt rubber, gasoline and sweat (he had been out there for days, of course, he hadn't had time to worry about such trivialities) and something so specifically J that your heart ached. Oh, how much you had missed him. All you wanted and needed was him. Your J. It was kind of ironic. While others ran away from him in sheer panic, you longed for him. You had never been like others, you saw so much more in him than just a criminal. To you, he was your charming, sometimes pretty grumpy, but still in his own special way caring and loving clown - but you better not say this out loud. You just loved him. This realization hit you so hard that a new wave of emotions washed over you.

"Shush. I'm here, I gotcha." He shifted beneath you, loosening his grip around you, causing you to sigh in frustration. Rustling of expensive material and then suddenly you felt all warm - he had wrapped you in his royal purple coat and then put his arms around you again like a vice. You were in the warmest, safest embrace you could ever think of. Immediately, your body relaxed, your trembling finally subsided. You listened to his steady heartbeat and mimicked his breathing. J hummed and smiled to himself as he noticed your reaction.

When you finally felt calm enough, you lifted your face off of him so you could look at him; your eyes were bloodshot and dark rings stood out beneath them. He hated to see you like this, but he said nothing; he waited until you were ready to talk. And you were ready. You took a deep breath and finally murmured, "Today was just a shitty day. There's so much to do and it seems to never get any less. Everything is too much. And I... I missed you so much... I thought you weren't coming back."

"But here I am, right?" He squeezed you a little tighter to put emphasis on his words. "I know you've got a lot going on right now. But ya got this, toots. You're tougher than you think you are. Aaand..." A huge and devious grin formed on his lips. You could literally see him thinking about all the things he had done in the past few days. "I need to lay a little low for the next few days."

"Yeah, I picked up something like this on the news. What is it this time?" You're no longer able to suppress a weak giggle. And a yawn. You were so very tired and exhausted, you hadn't slept well since J left, when he wasn't by your side. But now that you were cocooned in his protective warmth... Your eyes grew heavier and heavier. "So does this mean you're staying home, J?"

"I'm not going anywhere, sweets." He moved you both on the bed until you were in a lying position, you still on top of him wrapped in his coat. Even though he would never admit it, he had missed you too. And holding you in his arms like that - feeling you, knowing you were safe and relaxed - made him aware of his own exhaustion. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead, leaving a beautiful reminder for you when you woke up in the morning, and then closed his eyes himself.

[myherowritings]

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was. 

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location. 

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.” 

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.” 

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

 “Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead. 

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower. 

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too? 

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice. 

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?” 

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion. 

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--” 

“Y/N!” 

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice. 

There was no way. 

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up. 

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring. 

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!” 

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi. 

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” 

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?” 

“None of your damn business.” 

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?” 

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him. 

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone. 

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.” 

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.” 

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.” 

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement. 

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him. 

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster. 

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question. 

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.” 

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white. 

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing. 

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t. 

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes. 

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!” 

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?” 

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” 

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.” 

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.” 

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.” 

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused. 

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.” 

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed. 

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love. 

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end. 

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face. 

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night. 

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”  

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends. 

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.” 

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.” 

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.” 

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to. 

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well. 

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter. 

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close. 

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face. 

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side. 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard. 

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?” 

You flushed. “Oh, hush.” 

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car. 

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.” 

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.” 

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street. 

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze. 

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you. 

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you. 

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart. 

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay. 

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.” 

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen. 

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.” 

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.” 

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own. 

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right. 

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks. 

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.” 

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.” 

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider. 

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning? 

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?” 

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you. 

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.” 

“No worries.” 

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty. 

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little. 

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about. 

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!” 

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden? 

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop. 

He accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers. 

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?” 

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!” 

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.” 

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat. 

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching. 

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.” 

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes. 

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!” 

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.” 

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.” 

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.” 

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.” 

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t. 

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme. 

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?” 

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.” 

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.” 

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.” 

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it. 

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.” 

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you. 

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.” 

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.” 

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--” 

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his. 

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.” 

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced. 

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.” 

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say. 

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.” 

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.” 

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted. 

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.” 

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down? 

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.” 

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly. 

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.” 

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.” 

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.” 

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close. 

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.” 

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued. 

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips. 

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.” 

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.” 

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter. 

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.” 

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?” 

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched. 

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully. 

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face. 

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you. 

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.” 

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?” 

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?” 

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.” 

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him. 

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted. 

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night. 

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response. 

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged. 

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss. 

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.” 

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled. 

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.” 

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse. 

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him. 

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face. 

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!” 

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.” 

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door. 

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door. 

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles. 

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved. 

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!” 

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?” 

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment. 

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful. 

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.” 

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?” 

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.” 

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight. 

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.” 

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did. 

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon. 

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept. 

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you. 

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop. 

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face. 

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park. 

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again. 

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together. 

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx 

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

call out my name pt. 2

summary: spencer rushes off to fix things with y/n, but can they really be fixed?

word count: 2,371                                                                                     reading time aprox: 9 mins

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you for all the support and praise i received on here, especially seeing all of my favorite authors comment and reblog my work is so heartening. thank you all so much for the support, you’re the reason why i have the encouragement to continue doing what i love <3

masterlist

part 1

The rain pattered against the window panes, interlocking with the light that shone through the sheer curtains of my apartment. A cold breeze slipped through the crack of the window, letting it venture through the dim room before it graced my skin. Although the sensation hadn’t registered in my mind as the plain beige wall in front of me consumed my attention. 

The hypnotic sound of the rain provided a consistent rhythm that encouraged my introspection. In the entire duration of my break, I’ve let my thoughts filter and organize themselves. I’ve felt powerless against the accusations that my brain has thrown towards me, setting my emotions to the side in a state of suspense. 

My knees were curled up against my chest, my unwashed hair scrunched up against my cheeks, and my sweater was littered with unknown stains and dried tears. Along with the descension of my reasonability, my hygiene followed shortly after. 

I was brought out of my bubble by the buzz of my phone. I turned it off weeks ago from the constant notifications I got from the team, it was only when I received a text message from my mother that I decided to turn it back on for the day. 

I reached over to the side table where my phone laid, feeling my muscles tense up and ache from the lack of movement I’ve done these past weeks. Turning it on, the intense light blinded me, leaving me disoriented. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change of light, I wished that I had been blinded a little longer than I was. 

The notification read ‘New Voicemail: JJ <3’ 

My breath got pushed back in my throat, a wave of discomfort flooding over my entire body as my thumb hesitated over the notification. My lips trembled, swallowing my saliva while a debate ensued between my impulsivity and my timidity. With a numb boost of confidence I hurriedly pressed on the notification, traveling through my phone to hear out her message. 

“Hey Y/N” The message began. “I know that you heard...about what I said to Spence-” Her voice was low and full of penance, although any remorse that I tried to comprehend washed away at her use of Spencer’s nickname. “Gosh, I don’t even - I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for what I said - I - you don’t know how much Spence loves you and how much he talks about you” She sighed, her tone picking up as she praised Spencer. “But what I said was completely inappropriate and I’m so sorry for what I said. Telling Spence that I loved him was way out of line, considering that you’re such a dear friend to me, and especially since things are so complicated with me and Will - I just - I’m so sorry that I told him that I love-” 

The rest of the message was left to the imagination as I forcefully threw my phone against the beige wall, denting it in the process. A flurry of newfound rage clouded my mind, providing a break from the contradicting thoughts that usually engulfed my head. For once, I had directed the emotion towards another individual rather than myself. 

The phone fell with a heavy thud, glass debris flying across the floor, decorating the oak floors with fragments. I could care less about the material expense that I would have to pay; my blind resentment tainting my rationality. 

My chest heaved in exasperation as a novel onslaught of tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Although the quantity of tears were sparse because they were wasted on my self reproach the previous week. I furiously wiped them away, detaching myself from the malicious feeling, a habit I came to develop. 

I adapted to the stupefaction that infiltrated my heart, at times feeling grateful for the ability. The coldness that surrounded my small living room couldn’t compare to the icy innards of my chest. 

Finally collecting my composure, I looked over to a mirror that sat between my bookshelves, taking in my disheveled and ragged appearance. 

JJ wouldn’t look like this

My face contorted into a somber expression, letting my insecurities slip through the hard persona I persisted to instill in myself. I surveyed the filthy environment that surrounded me; the floor was painted with old dirt, the furniture had accumulated colonies of dust, and the roses that sat on the kitchen counters had wilted. 

JJ would never let herself go like this

Who was I kidding? Who was I, Y/N Y/L/N, to compare to a Georgetown graduate, an astounding profiler, and an icon of beauty? 

Well the one thing I had that she didn’t was Spencer

But did I really? 

I was startled out of my grim assessment by a frantic knocking against my front door. I groaned internally, not hesitating to stay where I was situated. I couldn’t handle any human interaction at the moment, frankly I didn’t want any human interaction at all. I’ve learned to love the little cocoon I had built around me, finding serendipity in my self-isolation. 

“Go away!” I attempted to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whimper that sent a sharp pain to my esophagus. I flinched as the knocking became more frantic, the volume elevating along with the forceful jabs against the wood. 

I felt my ears ring, using my hands to alleviate the pounding that attacked my eardrums. I was about to open my mouth to disclose another warning, but a familiar voice had interrupted me. 

“Y/N! Y/N are you in there!” Spencer yelled, slamming his fists against the door between every phrase. 

I froze in my spot, a wave of mixed emotions coming over me as my cheeks flushed at hearing his voice for the first time in a long time. The familiar sound sent shockwaves down my spine and dread silenced my tongue. It felt like I was on high alert, like an animal paranoid of its prey. 

“Y/N! Just - god please tell me you’re at least okay” He stammered in his fit of hysteria, the bangs on the door slowing in rhythm. 

Silence followed his pleas, instilling a sense of relief that I didn’t know I needed. Movement outside stilled, making me think that he had given up his relentless efforts and went elsewhere. I let out a breath that I held in, alleviating the stress that had accumulated inside of me. 

Although the moment that I began to relax into my seat, two blaring shots rattled through the apartment complex. The scent of gunpowder meshed with the dewy air as I jumped out of my seat, startled and alarmed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my palms, the ringing leaving me blindsided. 

“Y/N! Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer rushed in with his gun pointed, his feet clattering against the floor in a haste. 

“What the fuck Spencer” I hoarsely whispered, although the meekly volume of my voice hadn’t penetrated this ears. 

“Y/N!” He called out once again, slowing his movements as his sneakers squeaked with every step he made. 

“I’m here Spencer, I’m here” I repeated, using all my might to push the small phrase off of my tongue. My throat stung at the strain of my voice, a burning feeling eliciting from the back of my throat due to the dryness. This time I had caught his attention.

We locked eyes for a brief moment before I quickly broke our line of sight, insecure about my current appearance; even after a month I still held Spencer’s opinion to the highest magnitude. In the time that I observed him, I noticed that he was drenched in rain water, his hair tangled and strung out from his head while droplets proceeded behind him. 

“I-” He breathed, his words caught in his throat. He dropped his revolver beside him in incredulity, drinking in my battered presence. He didn’t look too well either, his stature was still the same but the bags under his eyes were prominent, his cheeks were puffed from exhaustion, and his posture resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame. 

“W- what are y- you doing here Spencer?” I croaked, rubbing my hands against my arms in an attempt for any type of coverage. 

My senses heightened as I waited for his response. He brought in such a familiar, yet unfamiliar presence with him. It felt like I was home, but so far away from it at the same time. 

Maybe it was the way that I longed for the warmth of his embrace, the calming rhythm of his heart beat while I slept on his chest, and the soothing melody of his voice while he read to me. But maybe it was also the way he hadn’t dared to speak when JJ’s voice was full of love, when he assumed that I hadn’t acknowledged the endearments he received from another woman, and when I became a distant thought in the back of his head. 

I’ve never doubted Spencer’s eidetic memory, but this time I questioned my place in that brilliant mind of his. Maybe for the first time, I was the one thought that had ceased to exist. 

“I - why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered, running his hand over his jaw in grievance. His eyes burned holes into me, the intense glare making me feel small under his scrutiny. 

I couldn’t answer

“God Y/N - I don’t even - why didn’t you even tell me?” 

“I - uh - I don’t” I stuttered, unable to muster the confidence or cognitive ability to speak; it was like my brain had turned into mush. 

“Please talk to me” He pleaded, taking a hesitant step closer to me. 

I stumbled back in a haste like he was some sort of repellent. I felt a constant push and pull in my gut, messing with my innate instincts. 

“Spencer don’t-” I warned, seeing how he had taken a few determined strides towards me. 

“Spence...please don't - p- please” I whimpered, feeling a wet substance slide down the apple of my cheeks. I tasted the crimson blood mix with the salty residue on my lips, unaware of how hard I bit down on the skin. 

Pained tears continued to fall incessantly from my eyes, matching the way the rain ran down my window panes previously. I saw Spencer’s figure slump down in defeat, the helplessness in my words permeating his eardrums. 

“Y/N just - please let me fix - Y/N just please let me fix us” He solicited, looking to me for permission to advance. 

“Spencer there’s no need for fixing anythi-” 

“Yes there is Y/N-” 

“No there isn’t Spencer!” I persisted, convincing myself that I had everything under control. I shut my eyes in frustration, shaking my head in denial while I reminded myself of all the malicious emotions I refused to feel. 

“Y/N please just list-” 

“No Spencer. I know what to do and I know how to deal with-” 

“No Y/N! No you don’t - god you’re so stubborn sometimes -” He imprudently blurted out, pinching at the bridge of his nose to collect his composure. “Y/N - please just…” He sighed, looking deep into my eyes from a distance. “Please just let me in” He begged, a few tears slipping from the corners of his somber irises. His face wore an anguished and desperate expression, an expression that had the ability to end a war. 

My cold exterior shattered instantaneously from the sight of Spencer, feeling my heart being tugged into multiple directions until all that was left was a pained human muscle. As much as I wanted to convince myself of an ardent persona, I knew that Spencer was the only person that could invoke such a visceral reaction from me. Whether I accepted the feeling or not, I knew that Spencer’s effect on me was unmatched to any delusions I made myself to believe. 

My lips trembled uncontrollably as a soft sob rolled off my tongue. I looked to Spencer for aid, feeling my entire facade crash and burn. My knees buckled and weakened from reality coming in all at once. When the first cry fell from my mouth, more followed soon after. 

I became a drenched mess that sat in the middle of the living room. I felt deceived by myself, developing a sense of self resentment as my mindset came into actualization. I grieved for the fragment of myself that I secluded and killed off because of my inability to process my agony, longing for that piece of me back. 

Spencer came to my rescue, engulfing me in his arms and encroaching me with his touch. I leaned into his chest, desperately clutching onto the dress shirt he wore. My tears stained his blazer, leaving puddles along the fabric, but I couldn’t care less. 

I breathed in the sedative scent, feeling it flush through my nostrils, reminding me of home. I held onto his arms tightly, afraid that he would disappear the moment I let go of him. 

Spencer tried to reach down to grab a hold of my cheek, but I nudged his fingers away, climbing into his lap as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. 

He cooed into my hair, stroking my back while he whispered his endearments in my ear. “You’re okay Y/N - we’re going to be okay” He breathed, letting out a staggered exhale as he enunciated his words. 

Light rushed into my chest at that moment, letting it conquer and cut through the caution tape I had wired around my feelings. Shutting my eyes, I relaxed into his love, letting it infiltrate and replace my fears. 

I didn’t doubt that it was going to take time to heal and repair, but at least it was beginning. 

“I love you so so much Y/N - more than you can ever conceive” He declared, pressing a soft kiss on my temple. “And nobody will ever tell me otherwise” 

I knew from that moment that I didn’t have to walk on a tightrope no longer because I knew it was my name that Spencer would be calling out.

-

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[bubble-tea-bunny]

sweet talk

[tamaki suoh x reader]

author’s note: been rewatching ouran and found the time to write smth small. basically a really late valentine’s fic lol. i’m drafting an idea for takashi as well atm. maybe kyoya after? ;)

word count: 1,844

At this time of year, the weather is chilly, the air cold even without the presence of wind and warranting the need for a scarf to avoid a red-tipped nose and numb cheeks. Most days are gloomy, the overcast sky glaringly bright and difficult to look at. But today, it would seem the divine hand in charge of the course of the seasons has granted a reprieve, the clouds parting so the sun might wash over the grass that you and Tamaki sit upon currently, in the garden of the Suoh estate.  

The gardeners had finished their tasks this morning, as instructed by Tamaki the night before. It gave you two the opportunity to be out there alone in the afternoon. The hedges are trimmed and tidy, and the smell of freshly cut grass is strong. You inhale deeply, chest puffed, and sigh in satisfaction as the scent reaches your nose. It had been so long since you sat out in a garden, owed to the fact it had been too cold for that lately.

Tamaki chuckles at your enthusiasm and rifles through the picnic basket he’d brought with him. He pushes aside the array of deserts—cake slices, chocolate bars, fruit tarts, and more—their colorful wrappings crinkling loud enough to grab your attention.

“Where is it…” he mutters.

You tilt your head. "Where is what?”

The tip of Tamaki’s tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth, evidence of his concentration, and when he finally finds what he’s searching for, he holds it up like a first place prize, complemented by an exclamation: “Aha!”

It’s a small plastic pouch, clear with red stripes and tied near the top with a matching, shiny red poly ribbon to keep it closed. There’s what you assume to be candy inside, in various colors, but you don’t recognize it. You’re still just as clueless, but you don’t need to voice your question because Tamaki can see the confusion written across your face.

“It’s commoner candy!” he explains. “Well, commoner Valentine’s candy, more specifically.”

You continue to watch, intrigued by what he’s brought, as he pulls at the ribbon to loosen it and opens the pouch, reaching inside for one of the pieces of candy. He holds up the heart-shaped treat, gripped carefully between index finger and thumb, and angles it so you can see what’s written on it: Sweetheart.

Upon realizing there’s wording on it, and that the same must go for every heart in the bag, your eyes light up. “Cute!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Tamaki agrees, voice quiet as he observes the candy. The nickname is printed red though the lettering isn’t too sharp, which gives away that it was done by a machine. “Haruhi got one for all the host club members, and I wanted to share mine with you.”

When he turns to you, amethyst eyes warm like a summer night, you smile. And when he offers the bag of heart candies to you, you eagerly reach in for one. “How thoughtful!” You turn over the piece you picked out: Only You.

“Well, shall we try them together?” Tamaki inquires, and you nod. The two of you pop the candy into your mouths in unison, then sit silently for a moment in contemplation.

It’s… unique, is the best description you can come up with. The powdery, pressed substance is basically a sugar bomb that melts once it comes in contact with your tongue. But it isn’t the quality of sugar you’re accustomed to—it’s far and away from the refined sweetness of the handmade confections stashed away in the picnic basket Tamaki brought along. Still, this mass-produced goody is delightful in its own way, in taste and novelty, for you have never seen such small candies with words on them, and you say as much to your boyfriend, the last traces of the heart candy lingering on your lips which you lick away.

“They’re charming,” you remark, reaching for another piece. “For when you can’t find the words or get them out yourself.” You read what’s written on the yellow heart you grabbed, then turn it to show Tamaki: Be Mine.

Tamaki’s attention briefly diverts down to read it as well, and the corner of his lips lifts in a lopsided grin as he meets your eyes again. “Sure, they can be useful for some people, but I can get by just fine without candy telling me what to say. How could I call myself the king of the host club if I weren’t able to string together pretty words?” Always conducting himself with some semblance of dramatic flare, he puts a hand to his chest, and the sunlight reflects off his eyes in a way that makes it seem like there’s a tear or two forming in the corners.

As usual, his acting is impeccable, and you can’t contain your smile; he’s such a natural. You have no objections to his claim as king of the school’s host club, and if you’re being honest, you wish you had even half the charisma he does, that some of the skill he possesses at waxing lyrical would rub off onto you via proximity alone.

“They would’ve come in handy for me that day I confessed to you,” you admit shyly, and it’s Tamaki’s turn to tilt his head, confused but waiting for you to expound. “These candies say all the things I wanted to say to you then.”

The day you came to terms with your feelings about Tamaki and the day you actually revealed them to him were different, and the time in between had been spent in a state of conflict over whether it was worth mustering up the courage to approach him about it. There was little doubt in your mind that the president of the host club received declarations of love left and right, a routine part of his week, a clockwork consistency like that of waking in the morning and laying down to sleep in the evening. You’re a drop of water in the ocean; what could possibly make you stand out?

For all that, you figured you should confess anyway. Rejection was still an answer and it was better than nothing. At least after the gentle let down (because truly, Tamaki is, without fail, graceful in matters of love, both the reciprocal and the unrequited) your turmoil over what he may say would finally be put at ease.

Though you rehearsed over and over what you would say and how you would say it, the practice ends up being useless, and you weren’t sure why you even bothered. Once you met his kind gaze—expectant and patient, giving you the opportunity to gather the words in the stretching silence that would be oddly too long in any other context—the resolve you had slowly been building on your walk to the meeting point by the fountain crumbled. You tripped over your words at the sight of his tender smile. Tamaki just had that effect on people, and you wished he’d look at you that way always. To be on the receiving end of his affection was to bask in the warmth of a sun that never sets.

It’s a feeling you’re distinctly reminded of now, sitting in the garden on an uncharacteristically sunny day for winter and the center of Tamaki’s attention, and you think you might be set alight from the sheer intensity (due mostly to Tamaki; the sun is poor competition in contrast). He wears that beautifully soft expression, mind clearly having thought back to your confession as yours just had. But it seems his recollection differs slightly, for he presents a counterpoint.

“I thought you handled it perfectly.” He sets the bag of heart candies on the grass and braces himself with his now freed hand, which allows him to lean closer to you. He enters your bubble but you never mind it, and his touch is feather-light as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

You’re unpersuaded, however, and raise a brow. “Really?”

Tamaki chuckles and nods, blonde hair bouncing with the singular motion. “Your eyes spoke for the words you had trouble finding. I might be the one stringing together pretty poetry like diamonds around your neck”—his fingers slide lower to trace the curve of your collarbone left exposed by the cut of your blouse, and you shiver—“but you have no need for words at all, much less the turns of phrases on pieces of candy.”

“Is that why you liked me too?” you ask, remembering his own confession that had followed closely on the heel of yours. You keep your voice hushed because given how close to each other you are, there’s no need for any higher of a volume.

Tamaki hums in confirmation. His index finger delicately taps once, twice, thrice, on the hollow at the base of your throat, a sort of absentminded movement while absorbed in his thoughts, before he once more brings his hand up, cradling your cheek. “You say you’re a drop in the ocean but you’re the drops of morning dew on the roses just outside my bedroom window. My heart flutters to breathe you in.”  

You smile, bashful, and set your hand over his, interlacing your fingers. Your cheeks have darkened in a blush Tamaki would like to kiss. “Okay, I’m convinced,” you concede with a murmur. He’s so close to you now. “When I admitted how I felt, maybe it didn’t go as badly as I thought.”

This elicits another laugh from Tamaki. Instead of acting on his desire to run his lips along your silken skin (there would be time for that later), he settles for a quick peck on your nose, then reaches into the pouch of heart candies, temporarily abandoned but not forgotten. His fingers curl around two pieces and he pulls them both out rather than dropping one, but he sees the words on them before you do since his hand obscures them from your view.

“The powers governing destiny have destined our souls for each other,” he declares. “Because you and me, it’s love.”

He uncurls his fingers to reveal the candy in his palm, and you look down at them. The green one reads You & Me, and the blue one It’s Love. This prompts you to giggle. It’s music to his ears.

“What happened to not needing candy to tell you what to say?” Your tone is playful.

Tamaki shrugs, unable to hide his amused grin. “I pulled them out at random. If this is the universe speaking to me, who would I be to argue?”

You have no counter to this, not that you think there even is one. Destiny is destiny and as Tamaki feeds you one of the hearts and you bite into it, the sugar once more dissolving on your tongue, you can only thank those powers which make the world turn for conferring their blessing upon the two of you in such a deliciously sweet way.

[cherryonigiri]

nanami kento [evenings with you]

nanami kento x reader || cw: descriptions of blood/injuries, light angst

a/n: this is just self-indulgent writing for me but i'm v stressed about school rn and this is the result. just imagine that y/n is a bio/medical phd candidate lol.

Nanami can tell that you're stressed. Usually you savor the nights he's not on overtime, asking him about work and refusing to leave his side for most of the evening. He's used to you being attentive, so the fact that you've asked him the same question twice within the last ten minutes is already setting alarm bells ringing in his head. You're constantly fiddling with something, or flashing furtive glances towards the bedroom when you think he's not paying attention.

It only gets worse after dinner. You insist on washing up, something about how you want him to 'enjoy his night off.' Nanami compromises, silently grabbing a towel and drying the dishes. It's clear that your mind is elsewhere. Your hands scrub the porcelain on autopilot, and he can hear you muttering under your breath.

Every now and then you'll mutter a list of tasks under your breath. Nanami remembers you mentioning that things were hectic in lab. You're almost always still working when gets home from work, even when it's well past when you eat your dinner. It's clear that you've had a busy day-- the apartment is far more cluttered than it usually is. There are post-it and pieces of scrap paper stuck to every single surface, and a forgotten pile of folded laundry rests on the couch.

An intense burning sensation across your palm causes you cry out. "Shit!" You drop the knife you were washing in favor of cradling your already bleeding hand. Nanami is instantly by your side, firmly pressing the dishcloth against your cut. There is a worrying amount of red seeping into the fabric, so he silently ushers you to the bathroom.

It's a strange reversal of roles. He's used to being the one leaning leaning against the counter while you bandage his wounds. Instead, it's you who is perched on the marble surface, wincing as he dabs an antiseptic soaked cotton ball against your injury. "Sorry, I'm almost done," he says when you let out a loud hiss.

"It's fine," you reply, sheepishly looking away. "I should have been paying more attention."

Nanami chooses to only respond with a nonchalant hum, focusing on cleaning your palm. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence while he applies ointment to the cut, adding gauze once he's finished. It's only when he reaches for the bandages that he decides to ask. "What's stressing you out?"

Your eyes widen as you realize you've been caught. Nanami is rarely home early these days, especially since he's been mentoring Itadori on behalf of Gojo. (Not that you mind - in the few times you've met Itadori through video call with Nanami, the pink-haired student's sunny disposition has never failed to cheer you up.) When he'd texted you saying he'd be home by dinner, you'd jumped at the opportunity to spend some much needed time with him. You'd pulled out the stops, cooking something a little fancier, and intent on spending the earlier part of the evening cuddling with him. Secretly, you had planned to sneak out of bed after he'd fallen asleep (he always goes to bed early on days like these) and finish preparing for the gauntlet of meetings and presentations you had tomorrow. It was your fault for putting off the tasks, and you didn't want to let your own bad habits get in the way of some quality time with your boyfriend.

"It's nothing, I just have a lot on my plate tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off, but quickly trail off once when you catch Nanami's deadpan expression. He's always been too good at seeing through your white lies. "I put off some work..." A raised eyebrow from him prompts you to continue, "And I was planning on doing it after you went to bed..." You can't help it when your face scrunches into a pout. After all, now your carefully-laid deception has been revealed.

When Nanami bursts into amused chuckles, you're momentarily surprised, but quickly go back to sulking. "Stop laughing at me Ken!" you whine, "I'm a--"

"Self-aware procrastinator," he finishes your sentence with an amused grin. "I know love, I know. I've seen you write far too many papers within 24-hours of a deadline to be surprised." He presses an affectionate kiss against your wrist.

You scowl at your boyfriend, snatching your bandaged hand away from his grasp. "I'm glad that my suffering is entertaining for at least one person." You stomp back to the bedroom in faux-anger, smiling when you hear Nanami's footsteps not far behind you.

When he steps into the bedroom Nanami drapes his frame over your shoulders, his warm torso nestled against your back. "It is one of your more...endearing traits," he murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. You can feel your cheeks and ears tingle at his words of affection.

"Sometimes you can be such a sweet talker," you mumble to yourself while you change into your pajamas. This week it's been an old Jujutsu tech hoodie and a pair of well-worn athletic shorts.

"Only for you," Nanami replies while he undoes the buttons of his outfit, chucking his tan pants and blue button up into the laundry basket in the corner. He dons a pair of sweatpants before returning your side to recapture you in another affectionate hug. It's a well kept secret of the Kento-Y/N household that Nanami Kento likes to lounge around shirtless in the privacy of his apartment. (You've been sworn to secrecy, but only because your boyfriend claims that Gojo and the students would have a field day teasing him if this information were to be made public amongst the jujutsu sorcerer community.)

Turning around, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your nose against his torso and taking in his comforting scent. It's been so long since the two of you have had a moment to yourselves, and for once your hectic thoughts are silenced in favor of sharing a moment of calm bliss with Nanami. He hums in appreciation, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips.

"Do you want to watch anything tonight?" you ask after a few seconds of silence.

"No," he replies. "I was actually planning on reading the briefing Ichiji just sent me. Gojo apparently has another scheme up his sleeve." You giggle when your boyfriend lets out a pained sigh. On more than one occasion, your boyfriend has ranted to you about Gojo's unorthodox approach to exorcism. "I swear that idiot shaves a year off my lifespan every time I go on a mission with him," Nanami complains. "He's taking away the years I could spend in Malaysia."

You hum thoughtfully before responding, "Then do you mind--"

Once again, Nanami already knows what you're going to say. "Just remember to bring your laptop charger, I know you have a thousand tabs open on your computer right now," he says while exiting to the living room. After a few moments you join him, overburdened laptop and charger in hand. You both take your usual spots in the living room, him resting comfortably in the center of the loveseat and you sitting on a floor cushion, nestled between his legs. Soon you've fallen into a groove, fingers steadily typing on the keyboard. The warmth of Nanami's presence next to you brings a sense of calm, giving you the grounding focus you need to finish off the last of your tasks.

As he thumbs through the printouts Ichiji gave him, Nanami can't help but let his eyes drift towards you every now and then. You look so adorable when you work. From the way your brow furrows whenever you reread a line, to the way you unconsciously chew on your lip when you scrutinize your draft for any errors. Every now and then he'll gently run his fingers through your hair, relishing the content sighs you let out in response.

It only takes about another hour before you're (finally) closing all your tabs (he still doesn't know why your laptop hasn't crashed yet). As you scroll through social media, your head begins to droop. Soon enough you've fallen asleep, breaths coming in soft and even puffs as you rest against his thigh. Smiling to himself, he puts down his papers and gently lifts your body from the floor. He's careful not to wake you as he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

Setting you on the bed, he tucks you under the blankets before lying beside you. The moonlight coming through your window softly illuminates your relaxed features, and he softly traces the outline of your face with his thumb. As he continues to caress your cheek, his eyes are drawn to the dark circles under your eyes. He rarely falls asleep after you these days - between his physically demanding occupation and the ever growing number of things you are responsible for at work- he's often the first to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion while you work well into the night. Not to mention that he's had to spend an increasing number of nights away from you, either on challenging missions or accompanying Gojo's students. And while he knows most of your stress comes from being a student, he can't help but feel guilty about all the additional distress his status as a jujutsu sorcerer has caused you.

When you started dating him, you insisted that Shoko teach you how to suture. He hates how much your stitches have improved since then. The neatness of your stitches is a constant reminder of how much you've endured because of him. When he hears you trying to muffle your sobs into a pillow, he swears he can feel his heart crack in his chest, hurting more than any kind of physical wound from battle. Those nights end with him holding you tightly to his bandaged chest, murmuring reassurances and affection into the crown of your head until you've calmed down enough to fall into a fitful sleep. Even when you're unconscious he'll still continue, words morphing into apologies for the sadness he's inflicted upon your shoulders.

Feeling his eyelids being to droop, Nanami presses one last kiss against your forehead before laying down. He wraps his arms around your waist, surrounding you with warmth, hoping that his presence will be enough to keep your nightmares away, at least for tonight. I love you, y/n is the last thought he has before he drifts away, ready to dream of a tropical sunset and a peaceful future with you by his side.

[cherryblossomtease]

In The Fairest Season ~ Part 1

18+ only- oral sex, strong sexual content see Masterlist for full warnings

~ ~

LATE SEPTEMBER

The field of pale long grass dotted by wild flowers, bends and sways in time with the distant waves far below the cliffs, its waters cold and black, its peaks bright white. There is no distinction between the sound of the wild, hidden shoreline and the wind whipping through the blades of grass which spread out like that wide sea far into the distance. This place is untamed, and completely unbothered by her.

She is sitting, still as a stone in its middle, like a fixed spot in time.

She, is soft morning beauty, and quiet, contemplative grace. She should seem out of place along the lonely Sokovian coast but instead it is hard to imagine her any where else but here.

She is the vision of life and love and a second chance at both, and she, is you.

The Baron is watching as you take a deep, slow breath of the country air, so clear and easy to inhale that it makes you a little sad to know that this has been here all along and you are only just beginning to explore it.

The city was wonderful in so many ways when it was all you’d ever known, but out here you realize just how shut in you’ve been, living between the press of stone and steel, breathing in the thick smoke of industry.

When the Baron first asked you to come, you’d feared leaving the excitement, pollution or not, but one look into his eyes and you’d been persuaded. You would do anything just to see them shine and his love had burned as bright as the sun when you said yes.

“Are you hungry? Breakfast is ready.”

Helmut’s voice is soft as the morning wind that lifts your hair and strokes your cheek. You’d felt his presence but only now do you turn to look up at him and find the man gazing down at you in his morning finery. A jacket and vest, the gold chain of his pocket watch catching the faint sunlight, his boots black and shining in the grass. Even at this hour he is every bit the Baron.

You feel next to naked in the white nightgown you’d snuck out in, but you wanted to feel the air on your skin and the earth beneath your feet. Sokovia should be experienced with all of the senses. You’d decided this the moment you arrived, and while your unrefined ways will be the talk of the servants quarters, you could not care less what they whisper about. This is your home now and you wish to know it.

“I am actually.” You answer and do little to hide your smile as you think to yourself that after last night, you could eat him out of house and home, but you’re too shy to say this out loud. However Helmut is an astute man and reads your face easily. He knows what you’re thinking of which draws out his own smile and he extends his hand to help you up.

When you are on your feet and at his side, he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you close to lead you back towards the stone wall that separates his land from the fields and cliffs and sea.

“You’re feeling well?” He asks, eyes fixed ahead though you can hear his sweet concern for you. You know why he’s asking, and a shiver of pleasure shoots through your belly as you shut your eyes remembering.

He held your wrists tighter as he thrust into you, faster, harder— it is overwhelming, but you love him— you cling to him, awed that this works, that he fits. A tear streams down the side of your face as you gasp wanting to scream from the sheer joy of it.

“Perfectly.” You answer opening your eyes and feeling a flush as you glance up. The memory makes your breath shallow as you speak. “I’ve never known such a perfect morning.” You hope he understands how deeply you mean it. The absolute only thing that compares, is the feeling of euphoria that washes over you while onstage. It happens just as you’ve completed an aria and the audience sits in silence, too overcome by your voice to react until they finally break out into applause. That, is what loving him, and being loved feels like.

As you walk together he leans over to kiss the top of your hair, still wild from sleep. He feels the same sort of untethered joy in this morning as you. The way he inhales your scent makes your heart flutter.

“I realize” He says walking upright again. “I don’t know what you like for breakfast, so I’ve had the cook prepare a little of everything for you to try.”

Your eyes dart up in the direction of the house. From here you can only see the east tower peaking up over the crest of the walled hill. “That’s so much trouble! I only need something small, an egg, a piece of toast.” You shrug.

Helmut laughs and shakes his head at you. He reaches and lays the hand not wrapped around your waist against your face bringing you close so that he may kiss your cheek. “A small breakfast may have been enough for you, the singer. But not you, the Baroness.” He says playfully, lips still touching your skin.

You melt against his warmth and think that while he may be right, it doesn’t matter. You like eggs and toast. “And as the new Baroness, I’ve decided on eating what I always have.” You say with your best voice of authority. “Wait.”

He halts the march towards home and looks down at you, his brow raised as he waits.

“I’d like some jam too actually. Mmm Raspberry.” You sigh and shut your eyes.

Helmut truly laughs now stepping around to block your path just before the break in the wall. “You can have all the raspberry jam in Sokovia. Please, Voljena, darling girl allow yourself to enjoy this life, it is yours for as long as you draw breath.” He says softly with his hands on either side of your face. “I know, it will take time to adjust, but I only want to see you happy."

You hold onto his wrist, sliding your hand over the back of his larger one. “Helmut… Happy is such a simple word, it’s a shame there isn’t a better one. I feel so many things all at once. But I promise I will say the words I feel in my heart as soon as I know them.”

His worry melts away to a look of content and he leans in to kiss you.

When his hands migrate down to your shoulders, his thumb stroking the soft line of your collar bone, he pulls away and glances down, chuckling softly. “As beautiful as you look out here in your nightgown, perhaps a coat next time?”

You laugh and blush embarrassment. “I like the cool air. And I thought I could come and go before anyone noticed I’d gone.”

He shakes his head and holds the back of your neck, “I knew. I felt the bed empty.” He says, his gaze slowly moving across your face, lingering on your lips.

You feel your knees go a bit weak. He does know how to make a woman feel wanted with the simplest of words. “I’m sorry I woke you.” You say, secretly happy to know that your absence was enough to rouse him.

“No, no don’t apologize. I’m pleased to see that you want to know my homeland.”

“Yes, but its mine now too, isn’t it?” You ask glancing out at the beautifully moody landscape.

Helmut nods and looks you over as though the love he feels physically hurts in the best of ways. “Yes, all of it. Everything I have is yours moja ljubavi” He whispers and kisses you again.

My love. Each time he says it you feel your heart swell.

He pulls you close in a way that sparks more memories of last night. They flicker, quick as a candles flame —his elegant fingers turning to fists as he pulls your nightgown over your head leaving you naked and vulnerable. But Helmut is kind and gentle as he touches parts of you that have been aching for this. He kisses and strokes, grabs and pulls until you lay on the bed nearly begging for him— you had not known that you could want something you’d never had so badly until last night.

When he takes your waist in hand now and turns you around so that he can walk you to the wall, your back finds the stones and he kisses you with a renewed enthusiasm. His mouth dragging from your lips to kiss along your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

You shut your eyes and run your fingers through his thick hair as he makes his way to your breast, your nipples pushing against the thin cotton of your shift, their color showing through the nearly sheer fabric and even you can see how badly they long for his attention.

“I want you here.” You breathe, pushing your head back against the wall, moaning from the anticipation.

Helmut glances up at you. The heavy look of desire in his eyes is a reflection of your own. He takes your left side in hand, lifting to suck your sensitive flesh through the material and you bite your lip, little moans and shivers your uncontrollable response to his mouth on your covered breast.

Releasing your nipple which now feels cold without his attention, Helmut reaches down and gathers your shift, raising until your lower half is exposed.

Your eyes meet.

Helmut's smile so often walks the thinnest of lines, you imagine he could so easily go towards darkness especially with what you know him to be capable of. But you are drawn to this and to him like a moth to the flame.

Holding your breath, you wait. Wanting him, completely unsure and a little afraid of what it is he will do. And then you feel his hand, warm and strong rub down over your mound of silky  hair to the soft skin below; the gold ring on his little finger is cool against your skin.

He strokes a small circle with his fingers pressed close together, much like he did in bed, watching you to see your reaction. You try to hold back but even this simple stimulation feels so good that your mouth opens with a sound you thought you could only make under the cover of night.

Helmut smiles wider and nods for you to take the hem of your shift. “Hold it up.” He says. You quickly grip the night dress tight against your stomach as he goes to his knees —lord, in his beautiful trousers, you grin— and looks up at you, but not at your face.

The way he stares boarders on sacrilegious. He kneels before your alter of lovely folds and glistening skin like a man seeking penance before the only true thing he believes in.

His thumb strokes, parting you just enough that he may tease himself with the view and you hear him humming a deep moan. He takes hold of your ankle and moves your leg out so that your thighs are farther apart before using both hands to spread you, exposing your most intimate places to the wind and you toss your head back, holding onto his shoulders as he dives in to praise you as you’ve never felt before.

This did not happen last night.

You gasp loudly—shocked and resistant— but he grabs your thighs, sliding his hands up and around to your backside, holding you tight, burying his face in the heat of your center until you fear he won’t be able to breath… and then he starts to move his mouth and you think, let him die if this is how he goes.

Laughing as you moan, your eyes roll shut, feeling his tongue swirl and lap, exploring and playing as much as he is working towards something.

You’ve heard of this? Heard the other theatre girls laughing about the skill of the different Lords who see your kind as fair game, but you’ve managed to avoid their honeyed words and empty promises, instead dedicating your life to your singing.

But this man… every word from his lips has been as true as his tongue.

He starts to suck at that place only you have ever touched before last night and when the perfectly crude movements combine with the trust and love you cary for him, you realize what it is he wants to make happen.

It almost did before, but you were so overwhelmed and nervous. It was incredible to know that you could make him climax, powerful even. But how would he ever be able to do the same for you when you needed more than he did.

Now you understand.

With your hands full of the shift and his hair, you feel the pressure begin to mount. Opening your eyes you look out past the field to the distant water that looks as calm and still as the sky. Helmut is rolling his tongue around the peak of your clitoris slowly, so slowly you can’t stand it. It makes you want to scream and you feel your chest tighten as you tilt your hips forward urging him to never stop.

So this is what it feels like…

You dare to look down, watching his head move which makes you smile with a rush of love and appreciation for his efforts. A gasping laugh rushes from your lungs as he runs his tongue from opening to peak, and you catch a glimpse of his mouth wet and shining when he pulls back to take a breath.

You involuntarily moan his name and pull at his hair, needing more with an urgency you will be ashamed to admit to when this is over, but for now it’s all you want.

You feel him chuckle against your skin before continuing. He sucks your clitoris into his mouth and batters it with his tongue until you can only cling to him and let the wind carry the loudest of your cries away from the keen ears of the servants just behind the wall.

The rise begins again, and though you've known it before—alone in your bed, quietly sighing into the dark— this is new and as your body insists you feel it not only there but seemingly everywhere, you succumb to the wonderful shock of your first given orgasm.

Pulsing against his mouth, your eyes fixed on the sea as you come, you fight the urge to fall to the ground as your thighs flex against his face while Helmut laps at your tight entrance. He swallows your sticky sweetness as though it is the elixir to long life.

When he does finally pull away, you drop your shift and wrap your arms around his neck and head, thankful for his strong and steady arms that hold you up.

Helmut lets go with one arm to run the back of his hand across his mouth with a smile. He looks up at you, and suddenly the strongest urge to taste yourself on his lips takes hold which surprises you. But the moment you bend and kiss him, you understand why.

There are so many levels to the connection between the two of you. Of course it is not new, this sort of love, but it is the first time you have ever felt it.

You inhale as you kiss and the sense of there being no start to him or end to you is intoxicating. There is only this single union that your love has formed.

Of course I’m happy— you think back to his heartfelt request before you’d both forgotten about breakfast— I am loved and satisfied. I am your wife.

[oopskashish]

Hi! Can I request a one shot Sirius x reader, where she is James sister, and tells Harry how she fell in love with Sirius at Hogwarts? Let’s pretend that Sirius did not die and Harry went to live with him and reader as a family. Thank you :3

A Promised Family

A/N: I am so so so so sorry for making you wait for so long. I was first thinking of writing everything from how he escaped and all that but damn that was too much. Instead I came up with this idea which seems pretty good to me and I am kind of rough with emotions of a reunion I read 5 minutes ago so I wrote something on basis of that. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter!reader, Harry Potter x Potter!Aunt!Reader

Warning: heavy emotions, mentions of death, but there is fluff. And something that SHOULD have been done in the books but Rowling was a bitch to not do that.

Summary: After the war, Sirius, Harry and the reader reunite. They become a proper family as Sirius had promised, and a bittersweet truth from the past comes up.

Y/N ran through the broken halls of Hogwarts. She pushed her tired legs to their limit, her eyes wildly searching for two most important people in her life. She pushed through the crowds which consisted of people sobbing, laughing, hugging, and kissing each other.

But none of that mattered to her right now.

She came to a stop at the gates of Great Hall. Her eyes were somehow aching yet wide ache. She say the Malfoys hurdled in a corner, holding onto each other, Neville's grandmother hugging him tightly, and then finally she saw the spectacled boy.

Her nephew.

Harry Potter.

Her anxiety which was previously rushing along her veins calmed down by a half when she saw him hugging Ron. His brilliant hazel eyes lifted up and she saw tension leave his body as she saw him.

They both ran towards each other, not caring if a crowd was watching them. She enveloped the boy in her arms, holding him close to her as tears she has held back for months come pouring down her face.

She held him just as she did after the triwizard tournament when he was plagued by nightmares of watching that horrifying moment over and over again. When she laid awake at night, surviving on caffeine, because she didn't want to leave her nephew alone to deal with them. She would hold him to her chest and whisper that none of it was his fault.

But now, it seemed like both of them were doing that job without a word. They held onto each other, feeling the gust of relief wash over them in a blissful manner.

Neither of them could imagine what would they do without each other. She raised him through the most painful moments of her life. She raised him into the wonderful human being he is.

There was only one person in front of whom Harry could truly reveal who he is, his deepest of insecurities without having slightest fear of being judged. Whether it was asking how to ask a girl out for a ball or how to tame a dragon, he could trust his aunt with anything, including his tears.

Sobs wrecked his body as he cried into her neck. All the pain he has felt got undone in her arms through his tears. The world seemed to be a place so dark right now and he could only hold onto her to guide him through the dark he was so terrified of.

"Oh my sweet, sweet boy," Y/N whispers, her voice so heavy with emotions that she could break down into sobs at any moment. "You are so brave, so very brave."

For a moment, she reminicsed how she felt when she held her twin years ago. She had almost died during a mission but she survived, pushing death away and bidding it a farewell, she came back to life.

She remembered holding James in her arms so tightly because both of your biggest fears were the same.

Losing each other to death.

She remembered how they both had to hold each other and assure each other that they're alive for the rest of the day, after their boggarts came out to be each other's dead bodies in DADA class.

The marauders could not comfort him, your friends couldn't comfort you. Only each other's presence helped the two of you in both the situations.

And now, she felt just the same as she held Harry.

The pain only seemed to increase as she heard Harry's sob. Each sob shot a wave of pain which tore her soul into innumerable pieces. Each cry emitted a pain that would make cruciatus curse seem like a mere scratch.

"I am here with you, Harry, until the very end." She whispers in his ear, as his sob only seem to increase at her words.

After what felt like infinities, they both parted away, holding onto each other's hand. She wiped his tears away gently, giving him a watery smile that said words he needed to hear.

"Sirius." She heard him whisper as he stared straight ahead.

She exhaled and turned around to find the man she fell in love with in her sixth year. The man for whose innocence she faught so hard. The man whose innocence she proved to the world after the battle of ministry.

The man who could undo her soul just by looking into her eyes with those shiny grey eyes she found comfort in. The man who could make her feel like she is home just by holding her to his chest.

She seemed to still for a moment, as if someone has put a body binding spell on her. She could only look at him.

She noticed how his hair were tied into a little bun which made her knees week every time she saw it. She noticed a deep scratch over his sinfully handsome face which seemed to have stop bleeding.

Harry first hugged Sirius, seeking his warmth he needed so desparately. Sirius held him just as close, muttering words of comfort in his ear as tears whelmed into his eyes.

At that moment, she realised, she wanted nothing more than to be finally at home and bake something while they both prepared the dinner. She wanted nothing more than midnight conversations with Harry and Sirius, with hot chocolate in their hands.

She wanted nothing more than a proper family with them.

After a few moments, the two of them pulled away. Sirius turned to Y/N and he had a desparate look on his face which made her heart beat faster and faster.

She leapt into his arms, holding him by shoulders and one of his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her impossibly close to him and the other went to cup her jaw.

And they kissed.

They kissed each other slowly, desparately, and so passionately. They held onto each other, as if they would lose each other into the oblivion if they let go.

The sadness, tension, happiness, and a million emotions they were feeling right now all accumulated into a kiss they would never forget. They were like letters of a word, clinging to each to have some meaning and value.

Their kiss was so passionate that it could inspire another universe to be formed, sun to shine, and to create another heaven for each other. The universes could collide and the world could topple over but nothing could have broke them apart.

Y/N parted away, tasting salty tears on her lips. She didn't know if it was his or hers, she didn't know how many traumatic nights were to come, she didn't anything at that moment but that she could not lose him again.

"Y/N." Sirius whispered her name as he pulled her closer, resting his hear in her neck and taking in a deep breath of her scent which and calmed him to an incomprehensible extent.

"I thought I might lose you." Sirius squeezed his eyes close when he heard her voice whisper in that desparate tone. That tone which made him want to take away every ounce of pain that was in her and make it his own. It was that tone that made him want to hold her close and shower her with all his love and happiness till she was filled with it to the brim.

"I am here," he whispers, rocking her back and forth slowly. Holding her as the sky hold its stars. "I am here, and nothing can take me away from you. Nothing."

And nothing ever did.

-/-/-/-

It had been an year since the battle of Hogwarts. The final battle which left trauma in hearts of so many people, that plagued so many people's sleep, that left so many people haunted with emotions no one deserved to feel.

It was utter chaos but everything was settling back into place. With Kingsley as the minister, everything went as smoothly as it could. The death eaters, all of them, faced trial and litres of Veritaserum was used on everyone.

Mistakes of past couldn't be repeated afterall.

And in the midst of the chaos in the world. Y/N and Sirius were blessed with children of their own. Twins.

The two of them had been clinging to each other and crying out of sheer delight when they got the fantabulous news. Sirius wanted nothing more than settling down with his wife and godson in a place where they could see the sky and feel the sunshine.

And so they did. A quaint little cottage that had just enough rooms to fill in every detail they needed to have. Harry lived with them, and he would have even against his will because neither Sirius or Y/N were going to let him go after the battle for at least a few years, but luckily he needed their presence just as much as they needed his.

And now, as Y/N talked with George on the dining table, her hand resting on her very pregnant belly as Ginny and Harry prepared the dinner.

George had gotten closer with Y/N after the death of his twin because only she could truly understand how it felt to lose a twin. She helped him through emotions he could barely handle and helped him get back into a new life without twin but still managing to be happy.

They both knew it well that a part of them was dead along with their twin but they had to live on and carry on till they could meet each other again.

George had made a joke which made y/n laugh loudly, throwing her head back as she made a remark which made them laugh even harder.

Sirius smiled as he entered with groceries in his hands and set them on table. He made his way to his wife and kissed her lips and her belly, just as he always did when he entered the room in which she was.

"Hello, darling." He smiled.

"Hi, handsome. Got everything that was needed?"

"Yes, I did. Including your Hershey's chocolates and butterbeer." Y/N grinned and kissed his cheek in delight, already reaching for the bag and rummaging through it to find that chocolate that Remus introduced her to during her pregnancy.

"The cravings have gotten even sweeter?" George asks Sirius.

"You have no idea," Sirius says with a sigh, shaking his head. "Either she is having food which can burn her tongue or sickly sweet food. Or sometimes both at times."

"You put these children in me. Don't complain now." She says breezily, taking a sip of her drink and gave Sirius a glare.

Sirius leaned in and kissed her belly and her cheek. "I would never dream of doing that."

"Good."

Sirius chuckled against her lips and kissed them one more time till he heard three people gag. The couple rolled their eyes and parted away, a little disgruntled.

"Is the dinner ready?" Y/N asks eagerly.

"Yes, Aunt." Harry says, taking the pot off the stove. Sirius got up and helped with him and Ginny to serve while George made the table.

It was almost a rule that y/n couldn't do any household work. Considering she is very near to her expected delivery date and is very heavily pregnant.

At first she threw a fit but when her feet started to swell, she stopped that fit because Merlin knows how hard it is to do chores with them. Ginny had moved in with them recently to help with the pregnancy for which everyone was beyond grateful though she had a little knowledge about it, she was very helpful anyway.

The dinner was served, and y/n had it with a side of chocolate. Her steak was extra spicy, just enough to satisfy her and the babies.

"Have you guys decided the names?" Harry asks them.

"Well, somewhat yes. We are keeping a few options and then we will choose whatever suits the best." Sirius answers him, giving y/n a smile.

"We were meaning to ask you, Harry, if it would be okay if we name one of our sons after James. I will understand if you would want your son to have his name. In that case we can choose another name." Y/N asks him.

Harry thinks for a while before saying. "Actually I never told you this. I am sorry if I cross any boundaries, Sirius, but your brother Regulus was actually a true hero."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, hiding away his pain behind his gorgeous eyes and burying it further in his soul. "What do you mean?"

"Regulus actually hid one of Voldemort's horcrux in his room and had ordered Kreacher to destroy it. He had replaced it with another fake locket. It was what caused his death."

Sirius bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

He remembered how his little brother told him not to runaway, how he told him that they had to be together in this. How when Sirius was pushed to his limits, Regulus tried to comfort him.

He remembered pushing Regulus away and calling James his true brother, leaving Regulus in tears. How he ignored his letters after reading them.

He wished he could have done something different.

Something that would have kept his little brother alive. He realised that Regulus was a boy who didn't have a choice. In the seek of approval of his parents, he did things that he himself didn't approve of.

But he was proud of his little brother, for he managed to be braver than Godric Gryffindor himself. He was proud that at least he realised what is right and what is wrong and acted upon it.

Y/N reached for his hand and squeezed it, she leaned in his ear and whispered.

"My love, it's alright. Please don't worry. None of us could have known his actions."

Sirius nods at her, kissing her knuckles as if it could provide him some sort of comfort. He took a deep breath in and pushed away his doubts which he knew y/n would help him with after the dinner.

"I think you should name one of your sons after him, if you wish to." Harry whispers, unsure if his words are pushing his boundary or not.

Sirius squeezed her hand, gesturing her to speak on his behalf. "Thank you Harry, we will think more about it."

Harry bit his lip. "And if it's okay, can you choose another name or change the one of Dad a little? I always wanted to name my son James."

"Of course, sweetheart." She smiled at him.

And after a couple of weeks, Regulus and Rigel Black were born. Some of the, perhaps, most loved children ever to exist.

Sirius would smile at them as the twins would sleep, happy that his promise of having a family with Y/N and Harry was finally complete in the most lovely manner possible.

-/-/-/-

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[21burritoseavey]

control - daniel seavey imagine

a/n: i hope you enjoy this one, this is probably the longest one i’ve ever done but i still hope you like it. oh also if anyone wants to be tagged in a post just let me know:)

warning: this imagine does describe/mention anxiety. I know that anxiety can look different for everyone but what happens in this imagine is kinda how I have experienced it. It’s nothing too crazy but be mindful and read at your discretion:)

Early in the morning I still get a little bit nervous

Fightin' my anxiety constantly, I try to control it

 4:58am

Daniel awoke suddenly, his bright blue eyes snapping open. He felt the uncomfy tightness in his chest, rising and falling with every rapid breath he took, and his eyes darted around the dark room, paranoid that the terrorising monsters of anxiety had escaped from his dream world into reality. The silence of his bedroom and distant chirping of crickets outside said otherwise. Daniel swiftly shifted his gaze to his nightstand, the alarm clock read 5:00, signalling another rough night of sleep for him the third time that week.

 Even when I know it's been forever I can still feel the spin

Hurts when I remember and I never wanna feel it again

 He sighed tiredly before relaxing back into his bed, trying his best to smother his shallow breaths into his sheets. Daniel was wide awake, and mere seconds later, he slowly lifted his blankets to the side, draping his legs on the edge of the bed and got up cautiously. He walked slowly to the bathroom with quivering hands and approached the mirror in his en suite, grimacing at the sight before him. 

 Messy hair, damp forehead, ruffled clothing. 

 Don't know if you get it 'cause I can't express how thankful I am

That you were always with me when it hurts, I know that you'd understand

 Daniel reached for the collar of his sweaty t-shirt before pulling it off, distaste etched in the features of his tired face. He tossed it in the basket, huffing lightly as he leaned onto the vanity. He stared blankly into the mirror and let his mind wander from thoughts about work to music to Y/n. Y/n, he thought again, furrowing his brows as he contemplated calling her. His phone sat plugged into the charger near his nightstand, easily reachable. Daniel knew that Y/n wouldn’t mind listening to his unwavering rambles about his nightmares like she typically did, but he still didn’t move from his place behind the mirror. Before anything else could stumble into his mind, Daniel quickly turned the tap on, the cold water flowed easily from the faucet and he rinsed his face quickly, washing the remnants of his horrors away. 

 9:23am

 Incoming call from Y/n/n

Daniel almost grinned eye to eye as he read Y/n’s name on his phone screen and he quickly accepted the facetime, instantly seeing her sunshiny face light up his screen.  

“Heyyy!” Y/n said tenderly from her comfy spot on her bed. Daniel’s expression softened as he heard her loving voice through the phone. 

 “Good morning, honey.” Daniel said sweetly as he pulled out a chair from the kitchen island and sat down. 

“How did you sleep?” Y/n yawned.

I don't wanna lose control

Nothing I can do anymore

Daniel paused for a moment, pondering what he should say next, “I slept well.” Daniel grinned before continuing “Did you just wake up, honey?” He chuckled gently. 

“Yeah...” Y/n smiled as she rubbed her eyes. She perked up quickly “Are we still coming over to my place later?” Y/n asked sweetly, gazing expectantly at Daniel.

 Tryin' every day when I hold my breath

Spinnin' out in space pressing on my chest

I don't wanna lose control 

 “Yeah...of-f course” Daniel said as steadily as he could as he felt the anxiety boil up in his chest again. “Uh, I gotta go, I have a long day-” Daniel said with a tight smile, “I’ll talk to you later, I love you so much Y/n.” She smiled widely before replying. 

“Okay, I love you, Dani.” Daniel tuned into the warmth of her voice before fading out with a quiet goodbye and hanging up. He set his phone down tiredly and got up from his seat to make some breakfast. He worked quietly but quickly, avoiding the reeling thoughts in his head. 

Daniel couldn’t get his mind to stop, to just relish in the gift of presence like his girlfriend did. He admired her a lot in that way, in her ability to disregard any negative thoughts and go on with her day with the same soft, happy mood, gentle and steady.  In truth, Daniel couldn’t shake the gut wrenching, shameful sense of feeling like a burden. Y/n was the person he felt safest with, but recently, he found himself intentionally suppressing his uneasy thoughts, which only left him with guilt and a distressing pit in his stomach. 

 3:42pm

The band had been doing interviews since 11am that morning and Daniel felt particularly exhausted from his rough and frankly non-existent sleep the night before. “Okay, listen up. You guys have two more fan meet and greets, okay?” Randy reminded the group while they sat on Daniel’s living room sofa. 

 Sometimes I still think it's coming but I know it's not

Tryin' to breathe in and then out but the air gets caught

 The boys all agreed casually, replying with an asynchronous chorus of “okay”, but Daniel’s face only grew in panic and he shifted nervously from his spot a few paces away from everyone else. It was safe to say Daniel’s anxiety was majorly challenging him today, throwing him into a prison of worry and holding him hostage. He stared deeply into the blank monitor in front of them, his own loneliness reflected at him. The vibration of his iPhone notification piqued his attention and he read the simple message from Y/n with a grin “I miss you”. His eyes remained downcast and he dropped his phone in his back pocket again.

 'Cause even though I'm older now and I know how to shake off the past

I wouldn't have made it if I didn't have you holding my hand

 It felt like just minutes- no, seconds after they had finished their lunch break but the team were already preparing for the next zoom meet and greet. Daniel sighed deeply and approached the rest of the band before sitting down on the sofa beside Corbyn. 

“Okay guys, you ready?” Randy asked, barely waiting for an answer before entering the zoom call. Daniel’s breath hitched in his dry throat, and he felt his body tensing and his heart pounding. He wasn’t ready. Daniel tried to cling onto any steady breath, but there wasn’t one. He felt himself spiralling into even more anxiety and his body abruptly dropped to the carpeted floor. 

I don't wanna lose control

Nothing I can do anymore

Tryin' every day when I hold my breath

Spinnin' out in space pressing on my chest

 “Dani?” Corbyn asked quickly, kneeling down beside Daniel. His sudden tone of concern sparked almost everyone’s attention. Daniel merely clasped his hands over his head, failing to slow down his heavy breathing. 

“Daniel? Hey? Daniel-” The guys stumbled out with jittery voices.  Daniel heard their concerned words on repeat but couldn’t get himself to respond. His poisonous anxiety flowed through his blood and soon he found himself heaving through heavy lungs. The boys all scrambled to get Daniel water or a cool towel or anything as Daniel sat sorrowfully on the floor with his knees up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his body. The group’s concern for their best friend’s wellbeing only made Daniel feel even worse and all he wanted in that moment was to leave. The overlap of panicked voices.

 The abundance of eyes he knew were on him and the distant echoes of the fans’ voices through the screen all sent Daniel into suffocating overwhelm. In one swift motion, he lifted himself off the floor with all the might he could muster and ran to the bathroom. 

The boys stood there stunned and Randy rushed to get his phone “Who should we call? Y/n?” Randy asked swiftly. 

“Y-yeah, I’ll call her” Jack said quickly, grabbing his phone from his pocket and he dialled her number. 

 4:11pm 

I need you to know, I would never be this strong without you

You've seen how I've grown, you took all my doubts, 'cause you were home

 Y/n leaned her head on the bathroom door and she tried to call Daniel’s name as calmly as she could without letting her own nervous tears fall. “Dani” she said quietly, pushing her ear against the door as if to hear what he was doing. The sound of Daniel’s muffled sobs could be heard from the other side of the door. Her heart broke at that very moment, and she instantly felt sorrowful tears fall silently down her cheeks before she tried again.  “Daniel, please, can you just open the door” Y/n said quietly, but Daniel heard and to Y/n’s surprise, he opened the door cautiously. 

 I don't wanna lose control

There's nothing I can do anymore

 Daniel’s red teary eyes and quivering body were immediately noticed by Y/n, and she looked at him with concern carved in every part of her face. Daniel’s frustration and anxiety balled inside him, ravaging his mind with painful thoughts and emotions, finally erupting in front of Y/n. She shuffled over quickly to wrap her arms around him as he cried heavily into her shoulder, panting from pure exhaustion. Y/n gulped down her tears as she held Daniel tightly, whispering quiet reassurances as he let all his emotions out. Daniel clinged onto the material of his sweater she wore, and he let himself be calmed by Y/n’s presence. The sheer touch of her skin made Daniel’s sobs soften with each deep breath he took. Y/n looked down at him sweetly in her arms, “I love you, Dani” she said kindly, with the most genuine affection. 

Daniel took a trembling breath before replying tiredly but easily “I love you too.”

(i swear i always end it the same smh, i wrote this so late)

[scandeniall]

falling in love

Pairing: sakusa x reader

Warnings: none for once ??? Usual college/aged up

A/n: Yeah it’s almost 3am and I just soewed this out. Idk if it even makes sense but I wanna be in luv with him lol. Also; the references to no limit to you (bc even months later it’s still top 3 one of my fav things I’ve ever written)

Falling in love with sakusa is slow and steady. Its weeks of being an acquaintance and friend of a friend. You were friendly enough, considerate of his space and that he wasn’t the most outgoing guy in the world. Paying attention when he made his way into the conversation as you all sat at a group dinner. It’s the not shoving your social media in his face unlike other people trying to get a highly sought after athlete to follow them.

It’s months of getting to know one another as friends ignoring the tiniest spark whenever you two would meet up for lunch. So tiny, it could’ve been a hallucination. Getting his number one night as the two of you found yourselves outside of a party (one he’d been forced to go to and wanted nothing more than to leave), the rest of your friends having the time of their lives on the dance floor. At that point he’d watched you and got aquatinted enough to know that you were relatively genuine. He’d detected no ulterior motive. Late night texts were his thing. After a busy day of classes and practice, where he’d remembered you’d texted a joke the day before. He’d shoot a quick apology for his poor conversation and offer his own meme as consolidation.

It was just over a year of knowing one another that it’s the first time as friends he felt nervous to hang out with you and couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It wasn’t a date by any means, just a mutual friend’s birthday dinner. He’d offered to pick you up as an apology for his horrible texting one week in particular citing that it was on the way. It was the first time you’d ridden in a car just the two of you and the way you offered a breathless greeting and apology for taking so long to come out (thus putting you two behind schedule, something that had garnered the tiniest bit of annoyance) had his own breath caught in his throat. He’s not even sure he uttered any real words when you’d complimented him.

It was at the end of the night, seeing you delirious with exhaustion yet as happy as ever, finally having a break from the reality of classes that his crush might’ve started. Your insistence that he texted you when he made it back home safe and the fact that you even stayed up to make sure he did stirred something inside of him.

It was something he’d pushed down. ‘It was only because of the atmosphere’ is what he tried telling himself. Yet he couldn’t shake the way he actually enjoyed hanging out with you in a way that was different from hanging out with Komori or his teammates out of obligation. At some point the two of you began studying together and that unveiled a new layer of yourselves to one another.

You learned that he needed nearly complete silence to study and he had to force himself to not focus on the tiniest muffle coming from your earbuds. He learned that when you began to stress to got extremely fidgety and would have to shoot you a look whenever you clicked your pen one too many times. Sometimes you’d have to break from the libraries harsh fluorescent lighting because he worked best there on the quiet floor. The compromises you made as friends in even school were because there was something oddly comforting about the presence of one another when studying. For you, it was how studying with him actually forced you to be productive and not get distracted like you’d do with your own friends. For him, it was the sheer comfort of having someone there, someone who didn’t try and talk with him and ultimately let him be.

It was early into your third year of college when he finally asked you out. At this point you’d been friends for nearly two years and sitting on feelings for at least a year. It was a simple date, takeout from a place the two of you mutually agreed on and a movie at his place. A clean spot for his first date with you. The date had been nothing special but you’d gotten to truly witness first hand just how meticulous his cleaning habits were in his own personal space.

Of course in the time you’d known him, you’d seen his cleanly nature in action. It’d manifested itself in the the mask he frequently wore and the hand sanitizer he carried often. You’d always noticed the way he glanced at public tables and admired the fact that he was never too shy to ask for a different one at a restaurant when it was obvious that it had hardly been cleaned in between guests.

His desire to immediately wash his dishes, and wipe down the table post dinner caused him to offer you an apology yet you didn’t care. The way you just wordlessly helped him confirmed that his crush was indeed real. When it got chilly, you didn’t feel obligated to cuddle up for warmth and even gratefully accepted the blanket he offered you, separate from his own.

In the nearly two years you’d known Sakusa, neither of you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact. Yes there was the occasional glance of one another’s shoulders to show the other something, but it’d always been platonic. That first date ended with the first of many hugs and a cautious look asking for permission to kiss his cheek.

That first date quickly turned into a second and third and fourth and fifth, the two of you sharing your first kiss sometime between the third and fourth. Itd been after one of his games, one your school had won. You’d waited up for him, the promise of boba on you if he won. Not that he really wanted it, but more so felt drawn to hang out with you. “We’re gonna win”

The kiss was quick and what others would have attributed to being “a moment.” It wasn’t unusual for silence to envelop the two of you. You’d been privy to many comfortable ones after learning to gauge when sakusa needed a moment to cool off from conversation. As the two of you just walked from the shop, drinks in hand and back toward campus he’d paused and asked to try something. Neither of you knew it, but inside both of your nerves were going crazy. The slightest shaking lasted the remainder of your time together unsure if the kiss really happened or if you’d just imagined it.

It’d been two months of dating exclusively before you two became an official couple. The kisses from there became more frequent but for some reason there was the hesitation to jump into anything official. So instead, the two of you spent that time getting to know one another in purely a romantic context.

At some point you’d joked asking when he was going to officially become your boyfriend.

“Do you really want me to?” Itd been a thought that had been at the front of his mind lately. He’d been trying to find the right time to ask as well, getting annoyed at the questions his teammates would ask about you in the locker room. He watched you intently analyzing your reaction to his words as your amused look turned serious than softened before you indicated that you really did. And so he asked and it became official.

It was the way that even after the honeymoon stage had ended that he still felt drawn to you. Even when you bickered about your room not being clean [enough] when he came over or about your annoying own clicking habit, neither of you wanted to bicker with anyone else. Even during your first serious argument that resulted in you admitting that you loved him his heart both dropped and swelled. He’d been the one to fuck up that time, the argument being quite heavy. That night he left with a kiss on your temple and a promise of seeing you soon.

It was the way that the days the two of you didn’t speak felt like hell to him. He was more irritable towards others and found himself stress cleaning whenever he could (something his teammates witnessed as he wiped down his locker for the 50th time in a span of 5 minutes). The usually cautious player may not have performed differently to outsiders, but when he didn’t see you in the crowd during the home game he was off.

Making up felt like a weight had lifted off his heart. He’d swallowed his pride and reached out first. Returning those 3 words for the first time had him feeling like he was on cloud nine.

From then the love between you and Kiyoomi continued to grow. It was never perfect, with the two of you always having something something to work on. But, it was you.

The day he’d revealed to you that he’d signed to MSBY post college was one of his favorite moments. The two of you had been at his hanging out when he’d given you the unmarked envelope. He’d watched your face go from confused to realization to excitement as you read aloud “we welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-.” It was one of those times he didn’t mind the camera you’d shoved in his face insisting that you were filming a once in a lifetime moment. He’d found himself smiling at the kisses your scattered over his face, ignoring what usually would’ve made him grimace in disgust for the love that overpowered it.

He’d considered the next step in your relationship for a while the question of asking you to move in with him ultimately flowing out of him at graduation. It was the start of a new journey and he wanted you by his side.

Moving in was no easy feat. Learning to live with another person and their habits got to the two of you at times but you were determined to stick it out. Once the initial struggles faded, and you’d gotten into the swing of things he was met with a different kind of love. The love of a domestic life with you. Love was never easy, and potentially being harder when you were young. Yet you’d waited it through. Slowly built a friendship and the foundation of something great. Sakusa has no intentions in proposing anytime soon, yet knew for a fact that he wanted you and you want him.

a/n: i honestly coulve kept going but uh i gotta go to bed and this shit is long nough

[the-faces-and-voices-in-my-head]

You guys have been gloomy for a while now, so I thought it is a good time to share the chapter that I have just finished,

You can read the chapter here or on AO3

This is the 7th out of 8 chapters.

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

Hange rested her tense body on the little sofa out of Levi's room; She wanted to remain close to him without disturbing his sleep. After he dried her hair and gave her something of her clothes to wear, he decided to sleep again; Hange touched the shirt she was wearing and smiled fondly, Levi kept some of her clothes without explaining his reason. He blushed furiously as if the fever came back again but Hange knew that this is how he looks whenever his real kind sweet personality was exposed. He wanted to keep something of her belongings for himself to soothe his longing broken heart. Hange whispered: I wish I knew about your feelings earlier Levi...I regret every day I passed struggling with my feelings towards you, hiding it so that they won't push you away...If only... -Hange! Hange raised her head towards the familiar voice: Yes Levi? The annoyed questioning voice asked: What the hell are you doing outside shitty glasses? She got up and stood at his door: I was going to sleep, Levi! -There is only one bed in my house. where did you plan to sleep when I am sleeping on it? -The sofa outside your room is good enough. -Tch! Levi moved further to the side of the bed leaving a good space for Hange and said in a soft yet commanding tone: Come... Hange blinked for a few seconds: Huh? -It is cold shitty glasses! do you want to fall sick too? Hange could not find a proper response since she was clearly surprised by the offer. -Do you want me to force you? I might be sick but I still can force your ass to the bed. Her ears twitched and her tail stood suddenly as Hange answered: You don't have to, I want you to rest, don't worry about me...I am not even cold, it is really warm now. Levi was the one who blinked in surprise this time: warm? late at night? Hange gave up since she knew Levi wouldn't sleep if she didn't. -Come closer, shitty glasses! and be careful with your tail... -Ah...yes...thanks Levi for taking care of my...tail... -You washed your teeth?  -Yes, I found the spare you told me about. -Good, now shut up and let's sleep. Despite the awkward situation, Hange was happy; shy, and embarrassed but happy especially when Levi tightened his embrace and rested his head on her chest. She could not resist ruffling his soft hair while listening to his peaceful breath and heartbeat... These extra sensitive senses were not that bad after all, they enabled her to feel him more than she ever could or hoped in the past. His intoxicating scent... His breath... His heartbeat... The touch and warmth of his skin... Her senses kept learning everything they could about Levi hungrily as if her brain decided to engrave him in her memory... Now she can sense him in many ways no matter how far he was. Her body familiarized itself with his fast that it startled Hange how much she enjoyed feeling Levi's presence. She looked at his sleeping innocent features and covered her face with the other free hand: Oh god...That's impossible!

The next morning was noisier than usual for Hange or maybe it was her sharp hearing that made it different. She opened her eyes and looked around for a minute then at Levi who was still sleeping deeply on her chest. She didn't have it in her to wake him up. Although she felt hotter than usual and needed a moment alone to regain control over her heightened senses, she could not interrupt this rare blissful scene so, she waited for Levi to wake up on his own while touching his forehead to see if he was still feverish. His eyes fluttered after the third time and said in a sleepy grumpy voice: I am still sleeping..stay still... Hange laughed and teased him: You have never been this lazy Levi! -Why should I leave the bed early If I am enjoying my time on it? Hange's eyes widened as soon as she heard Levi's surprising answer, she instantly touched his forehead again but she could not sense yesterday's fever. Did he just flirt with her when he was fully aware of what he said? Levi who looked as normal and indifferent as usual stayed in the same position for another half an hour until he let her go. Hange, on the other hand, was an increasingly hot mess of emotions, strange feelings, and heightened senses. It was beyond her ability to comprehend what the reason was for these sudden intense changes. When she went to the bathroom and locked the door, it was her first time to be alone. She needed to sort out her feelings after the last two eventful nights; she never expected to worry about such weird ideas and feelings at the moment instead of worrying about understanding what she became better and how she should live from now on. All her thoughts were about Levi. She felt as if every cell in her body calling him. Longing for his touch. Hungry for his presence and warmth. She can feel it stronger than any time in the past, she can barely control herself around him now. Once again she covered her face and whispered: keep your shit together Hange, he is your boyfriend now but, show some dignity and discipline for god's sake. Hange got up and looked at her reflection in the small mirror and said: You are still a soldier Hange Zoe...You can do it...You must do it or you would never be able to face Levi ever again if you let your feelings out in the open. -Oi! shitty glasses! Levi's strong voice showed that he has regained his energy fully but more importantly it startled Hange wand made her step with all her weight on the new sensitive part of her body. -Meeeeeeeeeeoooooooooow She could not hold the weird cat-like scream that startled her even more as she noticed it while Levi banging on the door: Oi! Hange! what happened? She managed to open the door holding her tail like a guilty child with teary eyes: I stepped on it again... Levi's eyes reflected a clear desire to soothe her mixed with a sincere effort not to smile at the innocent unusual expression on Hange's face. -Hold it carefully and sit there, I will be back. still, in pain, Hange asked: where are you going, Levi? Levi didn't answer her, instead, he brought a towel soaked in cold water and kneeled in front of her: where does it hurt? Hange took a deep breath trying to remain in control: the end of it... Levi caught it with obvious care and wrapped the hurt part with the cold towel while muttering: I think it is not different from bruised flesh, it will ease the pain at least. He looked at Hange and scolded her: I told you to be careful with it and pay attention to your new condition, didn't I?  Hange nodded quietly agreeing with him. Levi sighed: Fine...Stay here, I will go prepare the breakfast. -Are you feeling better? -Yes, worry about your tail before I hang you from it. Hange screamed: That's cruel Levi! His voice came from the kitchen: Then stay where you are and stop hurting yourself shitty glasses. Not so far from her, A familiar notebook lied on the small table. -Levi? -What? -Did you read my notebook? There was short silence then Levi's answer followed: We read it together shitty glasses...You were the one who brought it in the first place. A quick distorted memory came to her suddenly. Her animal form seeing Moblit's face then Levi's face in her lab. She smiled to herself: I guess some things never change.

Levi was happy! He didn't even try to deny his feelings this time. Although words were never his strong point, he made sure to make up for it with actions, the sweetest, most caring, and warmest ones. He noticed the strong cat-like tendencies that Hange showed. A rare smile made its way to his face as he remembers what happened in the last two days. Hange gave him unmatched happiness that he hasn't felt for so long whether, in her animal form or the current one, she brought a very old side of him that was buried with his mother's corpse. The excitement he felt to learn more about Hange. The motivation to support her and help her to understand herself better. The sheer joy of having her beside him. If only he was good with words... He would have told Hange what she meant to him...but actions are not bad too. He looked at the grand feast he prepared for Hange and started taking the plates to the table where she was sitting. He almost dropped the plates when he saw Hange. -What the hell do you think you are doing shitty glasses? Hange answered him immediately: It is too warm now, I feel hot so I took off the sweater. Her attractive slim body looked even more feminine in the light shirt with the first 3 buttons opened revealing an even more beautiful sight. Levi clenched his fists trying to control himself: at least button your shirt shitty glasses, it is not that hot! Levi went back to the kitchen to bring the rest of the meal. He muttered angrily: Damn it shitty glasses! you make it harder for me to control myself. He took a moment to regain his indifferent expression: Be patient Levi! Don't scare her...I bet she doesn't even expect you to think about this stuff.

Meanwhile, Hange was keeping herself busy by reading her notebook. She was distracting herself from sensing Levi more. She wanted to remember how she turned herself into how she is now. She was reading the dates and entries until she noticed after doing some math that it was February! She knew what February means to a cat... Hange understood the reason why she can barely remain in control around Levi... It was natural! Levi is her chosen mate, he has always been and will always be. Her newly expressed feelings made her more emotional. Her cat-like nature added more to the chaos she felt. It is the mating season for a big part of her and both of her mind and body were set on one man but the real question here is, will she ever find the courage to do it?

-Oi! Levi's call brought Hange back to reality: Breakfast is ready!  The food smelled great, she remembered that she didn't have a decent meal for a long time. Her sharp senses made it more difficult to resist the tasty dishes.

-Levi? Are you in there? -Levi...Are you alright? Levi and Hange knew the voices instantly! They exchanged a brief terrified look then Levi grabbed a small pie and pushed it in Hange's mouth: Go hide in the bedroom. -Baa Ia shtih hungwy -I don't understand and don't talk with your mouth full, it is fucking disgusting. Levi pushed her into his bedroom and closed the door before he went to answer the two men who were calling his name for the last 2 minutes. -It is too damn early for this noise...What do you want? Mike looked sincerely happy seeing Levi being his usual self: we missed you, little man! Erwin confirmed with his usual elegant friendly smile: What happened, Levi? I thought you were taking the last two days off but your squad said that they don't where you were as well. Levi was touched by his friends' concern but losing his first normal breakfast with Hange as a boyfriend and girlfriend was hard to overcome.

He no longer could resist the guilt so he gave in: Come in... Erwin and Mike came inside as soon as Levi opened the door wider allowing them inside. -What a glorious feast Levi! were you hosting guests? Levi swallowed his grudge slowly and answered: I was sick, I had a high fever and needed to rest longer than I expected. Levi answered Erwin's question hoping that he will drop it but Mike took over: but that doesn't explain why did you prepare that much food, Levi! -Because I am fucking starving Mike! I haven't eaten a decent meal for days! Mike gave him his sweetest smile: Can I have some? Levi struggled to contain his disappointment... He planned to share the food he put his heart and love in with his loved one not with two giant men. Not with the two who destroyed his first date to be more specific. -stuff your face, I won't stop you... -Thanks, Levi Erwin's voice followed Mike's asking for Levi's permission as he was taking a seat at the table already: Do you mind if I join Mike, Levi? Levi needed another moment to overcome his anger: Go ahead eyebrows. The two of them started devouring the breakfast, they kept admiring how each dish tasted while Levi was watching them fuming silently. Erwin swallowed the big bite from his pie and asked Levi: come on Levi, join us! it is your food and your house after all. Another silent angry look. Levi blurted out the question he held for a few minutes: why did you even come both of you? -We were worried Levi, we came to check on you! -I am fine, the fever is gone and I will go to work tomorrow as usual. Erwin nodded happily: this is great Levi! -So you know now I am fine, what else do you want? Mike answered innocently: your company, little man...we missed you. -Don't you have damn work to do? -We took the day off, we have been working for the last 3 weeks without any breaks and we decided to spend the whole day with you. Erwin nodded in agreement while he was still chewing his food elegantly and quietly. Levi was about to give another comeback but a weird noise interrupted their conversation. Erwin was the first one to speak: it came from your room, Levi! Mike acted faster than both of them when he opened Levi's bedroom door with a tense face

[transsergio]

Emotions That I Simply Do Not Have (Read on AO3)

Chapter 1/3 - More Like A Relapse

Penemily + Hotchreid / Mature / 1893 words

Hotch and Emily have a drunken night together that Emily wants to forget, but Hotch can't let go. She and her girlfriend Penelope make a plan to get him out of their lives.

There's a brief paragraph describing Emily's dissociation in this chapter.

This started out as a parody of H*tchniss but then I got really into it. Hotch is pretty out of character and I'm picking on him this entire fic. There is no actual Hotchn*ss involved, which is why I didn't tag the ship, and because I don't need to fight with straight people today.

Emily’s head loathes her. She’s been hungover before, obviously, but this is something different altogether – she’s half-naked and her memory has completed ghosted her. There was tequila, she guesses, maybe vodka, shots, Hotch was going to give her a ride home because there’s something dangerous about a wasted agent wandering the city at night; snippets that don’t explain much beyond the ache hammering at the center of her skull.

At least Emily knows where she is. This is her apartment, her bedroom, her matted skin and grimy oils. The sheets reek of alcohol, so maybe she spilled some, or maybe it’s been sweat from her very pores. She’s missing a bra and she forgot to close the blinds last night. Only, she never forgets. It’s muscle memory. Did she…open them at some point?

The sink is running in the kitchen. And her toaster oven is beeping. Oh my god. She brought someone home last night. Hotch never would have left her in a cab with a stranger. How could Emily have picked someone up between the curb and her front door? She was a flirty drunk, but in no way smooth.

Emily moves on a slow incline, craning her body into an upright position. She winces. Sunlight beams directly into her eyes. It’s been a minute since she remembered exactly why she kept the windows covered. She pushes the duvet aside and swings her long, bare legs to the floor. They’re not bruised (yet), so she must’ve remembered to skip the stairs and go for the elevator this time. She’s tumbled down them before. Penelope made her promise she’d wear shin guards the next time she went out, Emily remembers, laughing under her breath.

Penelope, who definitely did not go home with Emily last night. She couldn’t have. She implemented a strict curfew after spending three consecutive nights in the batcave – bed by eleven, sharp. Unless Emily made a distress call sometime in the night. Emily scrunches the sheets between her fingers. A distress call, something like, “Come help me puke into my toilet for an hour and a half,” would bring Penelope running. Well, not running, but speed-walking, half awake. And it would be too late for Penelope to get home, with no one to text that she made it safely (except everyone else in the BAU, but that wasn’t the point). The point was, it could be her in there, popping Toaster Strudel in for the both of them.

Emily wobbles to her feet and kicks her crumpled slacks from her path. Oh, there’s her bra, launched to the other side of the room. She runs her fingers through her hair and hopes she made a difference, though it’s unlikely. Feet shuffle over her wooden floors, and someone opens and shuts the fridge door. Penelope uses fridges, coincidentally. That very well might be her.

There’s a cough, a low clearing of the throat. Emily stands upright like she’s been called to duty, and palms her forehead. Her headache makes it clear it did not like that. The cough does not sound like Penelope. Fear drains the strength from Emily’s limbs. Please, dear god, tell her that’s not a man.

Emily wants to crawl back into bed and have nothing to do with whoever’s in the other room. She wants to huddle under her covers and listen until the front door opens and shuts and it’s safe to emerge. She wants to have been sober last night. Instead, her phone vibrates on her dresser. Emily hadn’t realized that when it reverberates against the wood, her cell sounds exactly like a jackhammer, but she does now. She hears the same sound echoing in her kitchen.

Emily lunges for the text, from Garcia alerting them to a case, and slams all one hundred of those tiny Blackberry buttons to make it shut up, shut up, shut up. The bedroom door swings open.

“Two murders in Kentucky, looks like,” Hotch says. What? No.

Emily rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands. They come away streaked with dried mascara flakes and last night’s eyeshadow, but Hotch is still there. He’s standing in his boxers, a white undershirt, and five o’clock stubble. He doesn’t flinch at the fact that Emily is bare-chested in a pair of black boyshorts. This is bad. This is so bad.

Hotch says softly, “Can I…” Can he what? Can he call later tonight? Can he leave a toothbrush here? Can he have a drawer for his pajamas? “Can I get my shirt, please?”

“Oh.” Emily steps aside. His blue button-down is in a wrinkled pile beside Emily’s nightstand. Should she cover herself in the meantime? Would that make it weirder? He’s already seen what he’s seen, after all. The thought makes Emily gag.

“I’m going to get ready in your bathroom,” Hotch tells her. He makes too much eye contact. “There’s toast in the kitchen for you, if you want any.”

“Great, thanks.” Emily is tightlipped and dedicated to looking anywhere but his face. That leads to his boxers, and his dick inside his boxers, and the knowledge that they clearly had sex, and Emily might need the bathroom first if she didn’t vomit everything out last night.

Hotch disappears, and so does Emily’s presence in her physical body. She autopilots herself into her clean clothes, grips her dresser and stares into the mirror above it. C’mon, Emily, come back down to Earth. She tries what her therapist taught her in high school, focusing on a texture, on the feel of the woodgrain under her hands. How could she have come so far, a continent away, and still need the same techniques for the same problems? Hotch was an exercise in self-loathing and misery. Only this time, that exercise would be staring her down for extended periods of time while they mutually hunted killers.

Hotch reenters in the same suit he wore last night. Did he seriously have to wear a suit to the team’s night out? He couldn’t loosen up enough for a polo shirt and golf pants?

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again in this capacity,” he starts. “But I had… a great time, honestly, and I’d be open to another meeting.”

Emily’s eyes are dead. “No, thanks.”

“You’ve decided already?”

“Yep. I’m good. See you on the jet.” Emily yanks the bedroom door open. His cue to leave. He takes it, if not wearing the look of a kicked puppy.

He makes it into a cab, and the cab leaves, and clears her block, and turns the corner. Emily stays for another five minutes just to be sure the car doesn’t loop back around, looking for a second chance. She washes her face clean and falls to her mattress. This will only take a second – she stabs her face into her pillow and screams. And one more time. And maybe a long one, just to be sure. Emily comes to work that day hoarse, unbathed, and willing herself into another life.

*

A month later, they’re gathered at Haley’s funeral. Hotch gives a beautiful speech, and Emily’s all but forgotten the number of texts she’s received since their hookup. The sheer volume of “Thinking about you.. do you like Thai food?” and simple, two-word messages like “Good work..”, alongside “Hey. Horny?” are a thing of the past, at least for today. Maybe not tomorrow. Emily doesn’t really know how grieving works. She does, however, know what it feels like to want.

She ushers Penelope into a storage closet while the rest of the team (plus Kevin) is at the funeral reception’s buffet. They’ll make up some story about going to the bathroom and try to defuse JJ later, assuring her that she wasn't left out intentionally. Right now, life is for living.

Emily’s lips move across Penelope’s jaw, her neck, her chest. She presses them to Penelope’s like she’s made of china, set on keeping Penelope’s lipstick intact. Penelope grips Emily while her own wrist is between her teeth to stifle her sound. Emily is gasping for breath when her fingers reach for the button of Penelope’s sweater. She is desperate to have her undone.

“Wait, wait,” Penelope huffs, putting an arm’s length of space between them. Her chest is heaving. “I can’t do this here, not today.”

“Today is why I want to do this,” Emily counters.

“We have time.” Penelope’s voice breaks. She fusses with her little hat and rights it atop her hair. “We have time that Haley didn’t –”

“How do we know?” Emily interrupts. “It could be me next. You’ve already been shot once before, and I just can’t… I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with you on the fringe of my life.”

Emily wipes a tear streaking down Penelope’s cheek. Before Penelope can reach for her compact, Emily passes her hers. She says, “I don’t mean we have to do anything right now in… what is ironically a closet,” Penelope laughs and dabs at her makeup, “but I want you. And seeing you with Kevin today, having to be next to you while he holds your hand? It’s maddening.”

A quiet passes. Penelope sniffles and the crowd outside makes somber conversation. Penelope whispers, “I’m scared.”

Emily closes the distance between them and cradles Penelope in her embrace. “I know; so am I. Can we be scared together?”

Penelope nods into the crook of Emily’s shoulder. They sway in the warmth of one another, in the cramped haven that is shelves of industrial cleaner and mop buckets.

“So what do we do?” Penelope asks. “Should I break up with Kevin, or tell him the truth? Neither option feels, uh, super-duper.”

Emily snorts some of the hat’s feathers from her nose. “If you want to be outed, I think telling Kevin he’s your beard is a great idea.”

“Stop. Kevin wouldn’t do that.”

“Penelope. He’s a man. He’s going to feel used, emasculated, and plenty bitter. I don’t see a reality in which he doesn’t out you.”

“I know, I know, but I don’t think Kevin’s like that. He’s sweet on me.” Penelope further buries herself in Emily. “On the off-chance that he would, though, I guess I’ll dump him.”

Emily hums in agreement. They keep themselves safe in their darkness a little longer, resistant to go out and face the mourning. Emily’s heart is busy fluttering, anyway. She and Penelope might remain a secret, but this is officially more than a hook-up. It’s all Emily could dream of when she stormed Penelope’s batcave the morning after Hotch. When she spun Penelope around in her desk chair and strung their mouths centimeters apart – a question and a dare all in one. Penelope leaned through the divide and they were kissing, slow and tender but driven by a force that urged them on. Emily had wanted Penelope for so long, but that morning, she needed her.

When they return to the team’s table, Kevin is at Penelope’s side. Emily puts her focus on Morgan, on caring about Hotch’s well-being, anything but Kevin’s soft, drooping face. It’s like his skin could slide right off at any second. No, Emily will ask what they can do, will let the team explain that their power extends to waiting Hotch out, will squeeze Penelope’s hand as they leave for their next case in Nashville.

[matchamorphosis]

𝑆𝑈𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑅 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑆

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑖𝑓 𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠?

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 || a lovely picnic on the beach is where you two lovers find yourselves although the faults and cracks of your relationship start to come to shore.

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 || avenger!bucky barnes × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 || fluffy angst

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 || 2.5K ➳ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 || @firefly-graphics

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 || 18+ sfw content; anxiety episode, depression mention, emotional and mental vulnerability, crying, unworthiness for love, this is just very angsty but I promise it does get better, minor dni

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 || electric love by børns .  televised by hunny .  ease by troy sivan, broods

𝑤. 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 || for @burninmatches 🎊🌺 happy very late birthday poppy bby! 🌺🎊 i do hope you enjoy this!

as the stressful elements of your work environment and his demanding job pull you apart throughout your relationship you two do not allow the tense faculties to disrupt your summer off.

the only summer vacation in years that you both have to yourselves.

so the blissful moments when the streams of dandelion yellow sun rays flowed through the cracks of your sheer curtains rested on your closed eyelids, you awoke blissfully.

body facing your lover fast asleep, naked bodies breathing in sync. legs twined together harmoniously, you feel the moments of happiness and peace rushing the blood through the crevices of your heart.

feeling alive and at ease in the best emotional way.

it is now that you spring up the mattress, you needed today to be magnificent— to be absolutely magical. to be memorizing yet most significant to you and Bucky and what was a more satisfying summer trip then the glorious sands and soothing turquoise waters of the beach.

waking up Bucky with your pillow hitting against his sleepy face, he awakes with a tired lazy grin. knowing he felt the vixen energy radiating your atoms the moment you raised from your spot on the bed and started to wonder when you would wake him.

so at that moment after the mini pillow war Bucky just had to start and finish you both raced to the kitchen and started your simple breakfast. by simple it had to be contrived of fluffy eggs, smoked bacon, warm toast, juicy fruit and delicious tea all while listening to the blasting rusting root coming from the mini stereo in the kitchen.

finishing the prepping and cooking, you both sat at the small kitchen table as you spoke about your beach plan as Bucky had his egg toast and you ate your fruit salad. biting bits of bacon and feeding each other, licking the buttery grease off your fingertips.

pouring your cups of herbal mint tea you both chat while Bucky read his paper and you writing in your journal. the sounds of the singing morning birds and the light classical music in the background serve well in filling the spaces of welcomed silenced.

breakfast, well mornings in general, are most significant to you and Bucky because it is where you both are in your truest soft forms.

at this time the rushing anxieties cannot keep up and the stressful expectations of reality don’t exist — because it is just you and him with your bed hair, wrinkled silk pajamas and blue porcelain cups of steaming tea.

as both of you spoke about your individual thoughts and expectations of today you both couldn’t help your eyes colliding to find each other every other minute. a smile gracing both faces and laughter reminisces with the shy and childlike nature you both hold.

both your comfortable positions find the natural comforting silence as you both finish your breakfast. underneath the table both your feet touch against each other, just finding comfort in the presence that it is just you and him.

after your simple morning meal and the cleaning up that took longer than you thought, only at the hands of Bucky blowing soap suds in your hair and you exchanging the childish act by spreading jam on his cheeks with the tips of your fingers.

the both of you rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead of you. fits of laughter and chatter bring peaceful chaos to the apartment as the two of you bath together.

afterwards you are in your pale yellow sundress smelling sweet of vanilla bean, lemon zest and the woodsy elements of Bucky’s cologne. your favorite dress of the summer in your opinion brought a strong contrast to your others that consisted of reds, pinks, blues and greens.

finally after settling on a dress, you beam at yourself in the mirror. placing your brown straw sunhat on your head, giving a quick twirl you were complete.

at the other side of the room Bucky smiles softly, you had his hair in a small bun yet the little strands of hair around his face slip out.

although you do not mind as you spring to your feet walking to his side by the doorway. pecking his mouth sweetly, Bucky can taste the watermelon gloss on your lips and it’s all a blissful dream as he feels your curves through your sundress.

a giggle escapes through the opening jaw of your white teeth and plump lips, you lightly smack his hand that’s gripping your hips you run to the kitchen. hurrying to prep all the necessities of your picnic to the beach, as well as trying to find the picnic basket which Bucky claimed was lost for good.

well, not nearly as lost as he put it if after a good five minutes of searching you found it deep in the shelves of your pantry closet. but in the rush of placing the watermelon slices and fruit cubes of cantaloupe, honey dew, orange slices in containers you were pacing to finish!

fresh rolls and baguettes of baked bread, finely sliced deli meats, creamy cheeses in brown paper bags as well as glass bottles of wine in the picnic basket. so so much to do and you nearly jump in surprise noticing what time it is!

the clocks hand rested at two and you both rushed helplessly to get what you both needed before walking out of the little cottage you two reserved for the summer to Bucky’s shiny white porsche. both laughing and hurrying as quickly as possible while stuffing your beach-things in the backseats.

“I hope you didn’t forget anything Bucky. it be such a waste of time to keep going back and forth,” you giggle smiling brightly up at him while he starts the engine, he returns the smile and laugh taking your hands in his.

“plum, with you here time can’t reach us,” a rising bashful smile blesses your face and with that he pulls the topless car to the highway like streets crowded by the green trees and clay cliffs.

the sun shining brighter and more yellow than before, the cotton clouds floating heavenly against the blue skies, a breeze flows against your face and you smile delightfully while the music from the radio makes you sing along.

stringing Bucky into your loud singing you both laugh when you forget the words and you both smile as you sing on and off key, the smell of the salty waves get closer you hold onto his hand tighter.

when you two get closer to the more secluded area of beach the excitement rises between the two of you and both of you have a right to feel overly excited, feeling free of job related restraints.

you two take your time getting your items from the cars trunk and backseat and walk hand in hand towards the lines of rippled blue water and shell scattered sand.

the beach, surprising wasn’t at all crowded as you thought, for only a few bodies (families, groups of friends and couples young and old) massing the sands you walk a decent space away from them placing your pale blue picnic blanket on the warm sand you settle the other things before situating yourselves on it.

digging into your personal bag you search for the sunscreen while Bucky worked the antennas of the mini radio, searching for a station to listen to as his eyes wash over the sparkling tide.

grabbing the little beige bottle you apply the honeycomb scented sunscreen on his face and forearms, with a tug to his mint green shirt sleeve and a unintentional pout he strips himself of the tee shirt.

smiling from that kind gesture you continue spreading the sun protection lotion on his shoulders, back, and chest while a focused compassionate expression clouds your face.

which could be mistaken with lust to any person as there is an Adonis in your presence and your head shifts to kiss his lips softly, tenderly slow as your hands hold onto his biceps as he returns the kiss back.

backing your lips quickly afterwards with a smirk, which Bucky just scoffs at you in playful rage “what do you get out of not returning my kisses, dolly?” a sense of mock hurt laced in his low voice makes you giggle.

you can’t help the wide smile that spreads “maybe… for a chance to kiss you again,” you say and Bucky can’t help but laugh along with your corny remark.

lying his back besides yours he faces you, the scent of the cool salty winds hit against both your hair. the sound of soaring birds in the skies, the radios chatter, and light washing waves against the sand is muffled within the background

the worlds universal elements and distractions may captivate your sensory devices but the present glow of love between you and Bucky, is much stronger than the universes hold on reality itself

“I love you y/n,” Bucky whispers, each breath in his voice airing in pure devotion and admiration.

but you can’t figure out how to handle that, because now the sun disappears in the cloudy blue palette. the land goes and fades into a foggy grey, and the feeling of warmth is replaced with a cold shiver.

those three remarkable words honeyed on his tongue and you wish to feel so assured- Bucky is so assured that he will forever love you.

you hate it, you hate that your heart clenches in denial, how you hate thinking you doesn’t mean it.

hate the idea that you will never truly feel loved.

eyes watering and throat gone dry, the hand that is in Bucky's hand begins to shake and you can’t look him in the eye

“what’s wrong plum?” Bucky whispers attentive, cupping your cheek your eyes leave the rushing water before aligning with his, internally wishing the tears that slip from your eyes were invisible.

you do not know what exactly is wrong with you, maybe it’s the high expectations that drag you through not fully enjoying experiences like these or maybe it’s the constant whispers in your head that make you think you don’t deserve to enjoy moments like these.

this mess of internal and external tells and instances may seem irrational to assemble or to lead to the core of the issue is impossible for people to understand, but not for Bucky.

with the knuckle of his fingers he wipes the tears that continue to fall, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck his lips brush against the shell of ear.

“y/n, I love you,” he whispers but it croaks, the little sobs you let out continue and they’re growing louder minute by minute.

getting up on his knees he glances down on you, your face hidden in the sad blue blanket; you continue to let out the small sobs and rigid whimpers.

it’s all too much, too much for your heart and mind to contain.

Bucky understands this— it’s heartbreaking but true that you both haven’t been true to yourselves and to each other when it comes to your emotional well being. the both of you figured that a healthy relationship can still persist despite the sorrow you both harness unhealthily.

the droplets of his own tears on your skin makes you look up to him, his expression equally as emotionally broken as yours, you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck.

you don’t want to weigh your personal issues on his shoulders but what is this relationship that doesn’t consist of sharing your thousand heartbreaks and exposing your deepest scarred atrocities.

so instead of pushing him away from you, from wiping your own tears and denying this barefaced episode you clench him against you tighter.

shaking hands holding to the back of his neck and your hand in his hair as you release your world shattering tears and ground breaking sobs, Bucky does his best not to worry you, whispering his sweet words that always brings you down from the storm swirling in your head.

he is your anchor, your lover, your flesh and bone that is forever tied to you in this earth and the whole beyond.

the embrace a strong life gripping hug until Bucky lifts you up and carries you in his strong arms bridal style, walking on the sands to carry you into the pacific blue.

he looks no where else but your red watery eyes, this significant impairment is far to much for the two of you, for how could your relationship seem so simply untainted in the most harmless form yet so hurtful to the inner demons that hide in the crevices of your heart chambers that feast upon your hesitation.

Bucky hates that his tears haven’t lessen, the moments he’s walking knee deep in the cold water the realization in the drastic flaws of your relationship become so bare to him.

what is love between you two if you pretend to be okay, to pretend the hurt you two faced that still plagues and haunts you both isn’t real?

how could the two of you outrun the emotional and mental sorrow when it’s making you run away from each other?

what exactly is love if vulnerability doesn’t present itself stripped within all sentimental moralities?

“do you love me Bucky?” you both can’t recognize the voice shattered and broken, the tears are clear that they have not ceased; Bucky's jaw clenches hard to keep from screaming at the top of lungs that he does.

he doesn’t scream it for the world to hear, he doesn’t control the way his lips shake as they struggle to voice his truth, he doesn’t let you wipe his tears that cling to his lashes.

he takes a few more steps into the cold blue till he’s waist deep and your legs are wet, he captivates your peach soft face within his coarse palms, he holds you closer against him till his face is in the crook of your neck again.

he shakes against your now calm stance, it scares you more than he will ever know, it hurts when your lover cries like you.

you hold him tighter, rubbing his back trying your best to soothe him as you feel his wobbling lips against your ear while more warm tears rain down against your shoulder and the waves crash against his stature.

“I do, I do love you y/n l/n,” his voice broken yet those words are enough for him to feel whole, he crashes his lips against yours and you welcome them.

this is happiness he could be apart of.

this is love he can’t deny, this is a heaven he can believe in.

the clouds above cry with you, thundering and raining their tears the sound of the crashing waves and heavy shower soak you both to the brink but your lips do not dare separate from each other.

the tears replaces with raindrops the strong hold you two have within each other is not, you two have loved each other so hesitantly, trying your hardest to hide your broken pieces as if they were faults.

the smile that blossoms from your once pouting lips is beautifully spectacular, the tears not present anymore as well as the sniveling yet it goes hand in hand with Bucky's trembling smile and cerulean glass eyes.

a smile doesn’t cross is face easily, he clenches you closer and there you two run through the deep depth of the ocean as the rain continues pounding, with your love fueling his need to take you away from both your conflicting fiends in imaginative and ordinary incarnations.

“I LOVE YOU Y/N L/N! I LOVE YOU!” his voice emphasizing raw devotion it only harmonizes with the crashing ocean waves against their bodies and the thundering dark clouds above that sing along.

laughter bubbles against you as the shivering cold water hits against you, your soaking yellow sundress clinging onto your goosebump skin, the predicament was nowhere near expected in your affirmations of today’s outline but that in itself only makes you laugh louder.

the grey clouds crowd the heavenly blue but who needs the sunshine when you shine bright — oh so brighter than sun itself.

the waves crash against your bodies, gripping Bucky's shoulders that shake with cold and roaring laughter the tears in both your eyes aren’t riddled with sadness anymore but with compassion and vulnerable kindness.

he loves you, with all his heart he does.