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historyhermann · 1 year

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The erasure of records, digitization, and 1990s Hollywood films

Gif of one of the scenes from Hackers (1995)

In the past week, I've watched a number of 1990s Hollywood films, such as Sneakers (1992), Hackers (1995), The Net (1995), and My Fellow Americans (1996), where the "everything's on the computer" state of records, as stated in passing in The Andromeda Strain (1971), has been reached. All of these films share a similar theme: the erasure and change of records (mostly digital), which has an increased relevance as archival institutions continue to digitize more and more of their records, although not everything, as I noted in my post about challenges of archival digitization in late April.

Reprinted from post on my History Hermann WordPress blog and Wayback Machine. Originally posted on May 19, 2019.

Looking at the 1990s films

Let's start with The Net, since it was the first of these films that I watched, computer with bulky hand-held phones and dial-up computers. In this film, Sandra Bullock plays an isolated middle-age White woman (Angela Bassett) who is a "program systems analyst from Los Angeles" who lives most of her life online, talking on chat rooms and ordering pizza. That all changes when she takes a trip to Cessna (before which there is a computer malfunction which screws with flights), Mexico, meets a man who basically seduces her in order to get control of a virus which is on a floppy disk, of all things. This plan fails, however, as she realizes, after literally sleeping with him for some reason, that he wants to kill her, so she gets away in a dingy that crashes on rocks, knocking her unconscious. She wakes up three days later in a hospital and the disk has been destroyed. As she is about to go back into the country, after a record was changed that checked her out of the hotel, she is told to sign a temporary visa document which states that her name is Ruth Marx.

As the movie goes from here, she realizes that her identity has been stolen by an imposter, with the change of records by the villains who want to make profits off their security technology and gain access to every system possible. With this, the movie is a bit of warning that it is very easy for someone to be digitally erased with so much of our lives online, with which you don't even have to spoil the ending. Clearly there are inept secondary characters (police officers, nurses, and jailers), many of whom, like sole archivist Madame Nu in Attack of the Clones think that records are inviolable and cannot be changed. The partially inept villains are even able to kill a few people, like the Undersecretary of Defense by falsifying a report saying he has AIDS and a friend of Bullock's character. At one point, she says that "our whole lives are on the computer, and they knew that I could be vanished. They knew that nobody would care and it wouldn't matter." Later she adds to the inept court-appointed lawyer, who believes in the inviolability of the records in that they cannot be tampered with, to defend her from false charges:

Just think about it. Our whole world is sitting there on a computer. It's in the computer. Everything. Your DMV records, your Social Security... your credit cards, your medical history. It's all right there. Everyone is stored. And there's this little electronic shadow on each of us... just begging for somebody to screw with. They've done it to me, and they're gonna do it to you...I'm not Ruth Marx. They invented her. They put her on your computer with my thumbprint.

There were some similar themes in the 1992 film, Sneakers, which starred Robert Redford. The film focuses around attempts to create a black box which would crack American codes, allowing access to any American security system. In the process, a team tries to steal the box back and one of the characters purchases blueprints from the county recorders office for $50.00, leading the movie to be cited as an example of "the use and portrayal of records in film." [1] With the information from the county recorder's office, and their own observations, they are able to break-in to the company of the villain and get the box, but before it is handed to the NSA of the characters removes the main processing chip.

There is more than that. Redford's character is basically a hacker, as was his friend Cosmo (who is the film's villain) who was arrested and thrown into prison for computer crimes. The black box has a similar power to malicious code in The Net. Again, the focus is that records can easily be changed, or in the case of this movie, mimicked, to certain ends. Like the previously mentioned film, the cast is mostly White, but a bit more diverse in that they have a former Black CIA agent on the team of the "heroes."

There's one other film which has similar themes: Hackers, which features Angelina Jolie in a starring role. It focuses on a group of teen hackers who work to take down a villain who wants to sink a few oil tankers while getting wealthy in the process. In this "cult classic" film, as some places call it, there are computers running on dial-up (like in The Net), huge portable phones, people in some of the nerdiest clothes ever, and moving of information around on...floppy disks! In fact, the virus itself is on a floppy disk.

The altering of records is a key part of this film as well, as the villain alters criminal records of the male protagonist and his mother to list them as criminals, blackmailing him to give up the floppy disk. In the end, this group of hackers, all men except Angelina Jolie's character, and all White except one kid with dreadlocks, sets out to take down the servers of the villain's mega-corporation, succeeding thanks to help from two Japanese hackers and their subsequent "electronic army" of hackers. Somehow they basically get off from their prison sentence thanks to a television broadcast from one of the hackers, which seems strange as he could be utterly lying. As with most movies of this nature, the plot doesn't always completely add up.

Finally, there is a bit of an outlier: the 1996 film, My Fellow Americans. This is perhaps the most hokey film of all, although archives is a main part of this film. Ex-Presidents, played by James Garner and Jack Lemmon, discover a scandal in the current administration. Lemmon discovers that conspirators have altered his official records, at his presidential library archival vault, in order to "erase traces of a meeting." At another time, Mark Lowethal's character goes to the National Archives, finding that the presidential appointment log does not show this meeting. [2] It turns out the culprit behind these changes is the current sitting present, the former vice-president, with his chief of staff being the one whom "doctored the Archives log and the log in Kramer's library."

In this case, the film does not involve the changing of a digital record but only the changing of a paper record. Still, this has a similar theme to the other three movies in that records can be doctored, manipulated, and changed to the benefit of certain individuals. Although, this can be, at times, easier to do with digital records than with paper records. I would also say the theme that records can be changed, erased, or rewritten follows through the Halt and Catch Fire series, along with shows like Mr. Robot, going into its last season this coming fall.

Why do these films matter?

"If I could take all the things that I am, all the feelings I have, all the things that I want, and somehow get them on a computer card, you would be the answer. I don't know why or how you've come along at this particular point in my life. See, that's the magic part. I'm not gonna let you go."- Dr. Sidney Schaefer talks to his girlfriend (who ends up being one of the people who is spying on him) in The President's Analyst, a 1967 film

They matter because more and more of the records held by archival institutions are digital, specifically "born-digital" (like tweets, Facebook posts). Of course, they are a bit dated, as they came out between 1992 and 1996. However, the point that records can be changed and manipulated should be considered. There should be measures in place to make sure that the records, especially digital records, are not tampered with. Perhaps this would require fixity checks, but also could necessitate rules on the usage of records themselves.

At the same time, the archives themselves should not be like the dark and haunting Thatcher Memorial Library in Citizen Kane, which has what some have described as having one of the world's meanest archivists, played by Georgia Backus, with hair up in a bun "and an intimidating stare on her face, a real dragon lady at the gates of knowledge." This is not the type of archives you want to go to! This is not the image which should be projected. [3]

What I have said so far is only scratching the surface. These 1990s movies have standing importance because born-digital files which are entering archives across the world, like some in New Zealand, include "photos, radio broadcasts and documents," requiring appropriate workflows. Margot Note, a prolific writer in this field, described that as a former lone arranger who directed all archival management at an organization she launched a project to digitize a set of records, creating digital surrogates of 2,000 of the collection's best images, adding that such surrogates are superior to past formats like microfilm since they can be delivered through networks "offering enhanced access to simultaneous users around the world." In the same article she advocated the importance of digital collections, saying they grant "valuable remote access to the information contained within the original records" if they are created within the appropriate archival infrastructure, with metadata and search functionality, indexing. She adds that digital collections of archival records can not only provide for "multiple points of access and enhanced image details" but it can allow for more in-depth study than analog originals, increase interest in items which have often been ignored,and it can also act as "an advocacy tool for an archives." She also argues that different types of digital surrogates of records can be created, either for web display, storage, or print reproduction. She ends by saying that while "electronic copies suffer no degradation through the duplication process," a copy of a digital photograph is "indistinguishable from its source" meaning that the "original" loses its meaning, and that with digitized images, "researchers risk losing information that enables them to understand how the image was accessed and how its physicality changed over time." As such, there should be efforts to limit or eliminate such a loss.

But there is another aspect to archival records. Librarian Carrie Wade argued back in December 2018 that information is political with information loss affected by federal funding decisions of research repositories ruining the work of professionals. Similarly in the case of archivists, they should not be completely neutral not only because who "we elect impacts our ability to do our jobs well and the access that people have to information," as she argues, but they literally cannot be neutral as they are human beings with viewpoints, emotions, and thoughts of their own. Building upon this, there are clear archival silences or "gaps in the archival record," with these silences "created and enforced within archives" as a result of practices that are "central to the work of archivists." Digital records, whether born-digital, like social media posts, or digitized paper records, can help bridge this gap. After all, paper or analog records can be digitized in ways that allows access to them through online channels while originals are restricted.

All of this is relevant to the 1990s films I referenced in the first half of this post, as it requires having effective records management programs. The policies regarding records not only in Hackers and The Net, or even My Fellow Americans and Attack of the Clones were clearly outdated, and should be taken as a warning to have correct policies. This also requires taking into account challenges with capturing resources that are born-digital and making it available, effectively curating this information for the user. Furthermore this is important as a major trend in libraries is collection of data to prove their value even though this has its downsides especially when it comes to ethical concerns with data mining and big data, even though this can be useful. At the same time, how material is defined for easy access is a challenge "to every content owner," as is choosing the right metadata, with "important detail work" in this process. The same is the case for finding more "accessible ways for people to find and scan content" and ways to share these "images with your target audience." [4]

Concluding words

All of this ties back, of course, to the classic animated sitcom, Futurama, with its mentions of "technical support," CDs, CD players/CD racks, and floppy disks (some of which are 15-inch). In fact, in one episode, "How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back" (season 2, episode 15), the last half of the episode is about going into the central bureaucracy to get back a disk with Bender's brain on it, which is floppy disk. Others mention existing government records, databases, a record vault (safe box) and an arrest record. In one episode Fry even declares to Bender that "I'm not a robot like you! I don't like having disks crammed into me" while in another he downloads "a celebrity from the Internet" from a parody of Napster, which is kidnapping celebrities and illegally copying them, with the "backup disk" being a floppy disk. Others focus on big data and concentration of information, digital cameras and operating systems.

I mention all of this because it shows the relevance of record erasure, digital archives, digitization, and the changing digital environment. This requires of course that you don't have "unauthorized data access" like Fry accessing the computer connected to the brain spawn. In the end, while these 1990s Hollywood movies are dated in various ways and problematic in others, they still have relevance connected to present developments of archival institutions in response to new technologies and making records more accessible to online users.

Notes

[1] Kyle Neill, Senior Archivist of the Peel Art Gallery Museum & Archives also argues that there are archival themes in The Dark Knight (2008), The Avengers (1998), Chinatown (1974), and Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy (2011).

[2] This reminds me of a major plot point in Thrill Seekers, a 1999 TV movie, where the protagonist finds out that there are people who travel in time (from the future) to disasters and serve as tourists, disgustingly watching people die. In the process, the researcher on staff at a local newspaper, a bit like a records clerk, has databases of newspapers on her computer, which he searches to find information, which she lets him use even though she just met him (not good records management). Ultimately she says that she will go to the National Archives to find the original images, proving that he was not lying about the time travelers. Later, the protagonist goes back and time and saves her. But, I thought I'd just mention this, as the fact she is a bit of a records clerk brings in line with the records clerks in Erin Brocovitch (2000) and Chinatown (1974). The former has a clerk who flirts with a law firm filing clerk (Erin Brocovitch) who uncovers wrongdoings of a water utility company on her three visits to the records office of the Regional Water Board, letting her into "a records storage area, piled high with files, papers and binders, where she proceeds to copy water records," allowing her to complete her work. The latter has a sullen young man who does not like his job, grudgingly providing assistance, with Jack Nicholson's character "tearing out part of a page from a record book by covering the noise with a cough" after he is told he cannot check out the volume.This clerk, as one reviewer puts it, has "a well crafted scene presenting a stereotypical records keeper" with the clerk/archivist as "an impatient, unhelpful civil servant guarding over his records domain who treats the public as trespassers" while the "records are in long aisles in bound volumes." Some have compared Erin Brocovitch to another film with records as central, specifically A Civil Action (1998).

[3] The same goes for Hollywood images of old archivists like in Vampires (1998) where the church archivist is introduced, a "slight, bearded man with glasses" whom is sent along on a quest," in They Might Be Giants (1971) where a wealthy lawyer, who thinks he is Sherlock Holmes, teams up with a psychiatrist "to try to rid the world of evil" and in the process, one person plays an aged archivist who, despite his problems, "does come across as the sanest person in the movie and he finds clues to track down Moriarity," or in Amityville II: The Possession (1982) when a father uses a local archives to find out about a hosue causing trouble for his family, and in the process he is helped by an elderly archivist, a person who says "I've worked here for 25 years." There are other mentions of archives, but without archivists in Arlington Road (1998), Batman Begins (2005), Beverly Hills Ninja (1997), Broken Lullaby (1994), GoldenEye (1995), Journey to the Far Side of the Sun (aka Doppelganger) (1969), L.A. Confidential (1997), Message in a Bottle (1999), Ninth Gate (1999), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2017), Secret Nation (1991) [Canadian film], Shooting the Past (1999), Smila's Sense of Snow (1997), The Dark Knight (2008), The Name of the Rose (1986), The Phantom (1996), and The Shadow (1994). Also, there are said to be flirtatious archivists in Carolina Skeletons (1991) and Just Cause (1995), along with helpful ones (either initially or ultimately) in Cloud Atlas (2012), Deceived (1991), Quatermass and the Pitt (1967), The Fugitive (1993), and The Mask of Dimitrios (1944). There are also a number of films which have archivists in the background: Charlton-Brown of the F.O. (1959), Macaroni (1986), Red (2010), Ridicule (1996), Rollerball (1975), and The Age of Stupid (2009), and those that are said to have nasty or mean archivists: Blade (1998), In the Name of the Father (1993), Scream 3 (2000), The Nasty Girl [Das Schreckliche Madchen] (1990), and The Watermelon Woman (1996). Please, do not constitute this as an endorsement of any of these films, as likely they are mostly terrible.

[4] Also see articles about how libraries lead with digital skills and a cryptic finding aid.

#sneakers #hackers #the net #my fellow americans #the andromeda strain #libraries #archives #pop culture #floppy disc #halt and catch fire #mr. robot

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archivyrep · 1 year

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The erasure of records, digitization, and 1990s Hollywood films [Part 1]

Gif of one of the scenes from Hackers (1995)

Some time ago, I watched a number of 1990s Hollywood films, such as Sneakers (1992), Hackers (1995), The Net (1995), and My Fellow Americans (1996), where the "everything's on the computer" state of records, as stated in passing in The Andromeda Strain (1971), has been reached. All of these films share a similar theme: the erasure and change of records (mostly digital), which has an increased relevance as archival institutions continue to digitize more and more of their records, although not everything, as I noted in my post about challenges of archival digitization in late April 2019.

Note: This article is reprinted from my History Hermann blog, with this post published there on May 19, 2019. I published it on my Wading Through the Archival Stacks WordPress blog on Aug. 28, 2020 with some revisions because I thought it was relevant to archives, at least when it comes to films.

Looking at the 1990s films

Let's start with The Net since it was the first of these films that I watched, computer with bulky hand-held phones and dial-up computers. In this film, Sandra Bullock plays an isolated middle-aged White woman (Angela Bassett) who is a "program systems analyst from Los Angeles" who lives most of her life online, talking in chat rooms and ordering pizza. That all changes when she takes a trip to Cessna (before which there is a computer malfunction which screws with flights), Mexico, meets a man who basically seduces her in order to get control of a virus which is on a floppy disk, of all things. This plan fails, however, as she realizes, after literally sleeping with him for some reason, that he wants to kill her, so she gets away in a dingy that crashes on rocks, knocking her unconscious. She wakes up three days later in a hospital and the disk has been destroyed. As she is about to go back into the country, after a record was changed that checked her out of the hotel, she is told to sign a temporary visa document which states that her name is Ruth Marx.

youtube

As the movie goes from here, she realizes that her identity has been stolen by an imposter, with the change of records by the villains who want to make profits off their security technology and gain access to every system possible. With this, the movie is a bit of warning that it is very easy for someone to be digitally erased with so much of our lives online, with which you don't even have to spoil the ending. Clearly, there are inept secondary characters (police officers, nurses, and jailers), many of whom, like sole archivist Madame Nu in Attack of the Clones think that records are inviolable and cannot be changed. The partially inept villains are even able to kill a few people, like the Undersecretary of Defense by falsifying a report saying he has AIDS and a friend of Bullock's character. At one point, she says that "our whole lives are on the computer, and they knew that I could vanish. They knew that nobody would care and it wouldn't matter." Later she adds to the inept court-appointed lawyer, who believes in the inviolability of the records in that they cannot be tampered with, to defend her from false charges:

There were some similar themes in the 1992 film, Sneakers, which starred Robert Redford. The film focuses on attempts to create a black box that would crack American codes, allowing access to any American security system. In the process, a team tries to steal the box back and one of the characters purchases blueprints from the county recorders office for $50.00, leading the movie to be cited as an example of "the use and portrayal of records in film." [1] With the information from the county recorder's office, and their own observations, they are able to break-in into the company of the villain and get the box, but before it is handed to the NSA, one of the characters removes the main processing chip.

Notes

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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

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Different Kinds of Falls

Request : autumn themed + underwear store with Wilhemina

A/N: @blacksmokieee25 since you’re probably not going to bed until the sun rises, I’m posting this now. Happy birthday lovely ^^ I tried lacing together your two requests and came up with this weird, vignette fic that I hope you’ll like. I hope your 23rd year will bring you love and happiness. I’m very glad I know you xx

Warnings: a tiny little bit of smut and a lot of bad English

Word count: ≃ 4 600

She was like a princess in a fairytale, trapped in a tower and waiting for someone to save her from isolation. Except no one had come. She would have to do the saving herself.

But she was too tired, she protested. She couldn’t do the saving. She said, Because to save someone, you have to think they are worthy, you have to love them at least a little. And the dragon keeping me prisoner – that dragon is me. I cannot save myself for I do not think I’m worthy.

All this of course she didn’t say. You thought it yourself, as you lay in bed watching her, the sheet pulled up high so she could hide herself – she wouldn’t say she’s hiding, she would say she’s cold. You had been reading The Island of Doctor Moreau next to her, a little appalled, a little sleepy, until you had come upon one sentence and stopped. Now you stood watching her as the sentence played in your head like a record spinning again and again.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is dead, too.

Wilhemina felt your gaze on her and glanced at you, looking as if she couldn’t quite believe she had allowed you to lie half naked in her bed like that. She looked a little fierce, you thought, a little too mean for a lover. She looked like she didn’t quite know how to let herself be loved.

You gave her a smile and ran one finger down her cheek, along her jaw to her chin, down her neck. Wilhemina’s brow furrowed, shoulders tensing as your finger reached the collar of her nightdress.

Will you let me see you naked? you wanted to ask, just a whisper so as not to scare her.

Of course you didn’t.

You wouldn’t make a good hero, you thought. You would make a terrible knight. The one who always runs away first, who says bad jokes to make up for her cowardice and her overwhelming fear of love.

You would take one look at the dragon and leave the princess in her tower.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is thriving, too.

But consider, you thought, as Wilhemina, still frowning, leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips: what if you saw the princess before you saw the dragon. What if the princess saw you. Doesn’t love make the lovers brave?

Wilhemina’s kisses were often clumsy. They were always terrified, that this kiss would be the last, that after it would only come the bite of her own teeth and the burn of her tears. Her fingers slid behind your neck and clutched your hair. She pressed herself against you.

As you guided her head to your neck and closed your eyes, you slipped your hand under her nightdress to feel the skin of her shoulder. Brave? Or stupid? Wilhemina’s breath hitched.

She pressed herself deeper into you.

The Thing that bled and ran screaming and sobbing – that is dying, too.

“It’s alright,” you tried, both hands held up, wide eyes quickly shifting from Wilhemina’s face to the fragments of glass on the floor and her bare feet. “Be careful, I can take care of it.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she snapped. Her hand was pressed against her chest, fingers clutching the towel wrapped around her body as if it were the last remaining piece of her broken armor.

You winced.

“It’s alright,” you tried again. “I –”

“Get out!”

You met her eyes again, wide with fear and fury because you had walked into the bedroom as she was getting dressed, and you had almost seen her, and in her hurry to hide from you she had knocked over the vase with the flowers that she had bought for you three days ago.

“Mina – ”

“Y/N if you do not get out of my sight in the next two seconds I will hurt you.” Voice breaking, hands shaking.

Still you hesitated.

Wilhemina grabbed a pillow – the beside lamp was nearer – and threw it at you.

“GET OUT!”

She never screamed. It was that scream that made you obey.

You stood behind the closed door and listened as she cried.

She didn’t believe that you could love her. And yet she felt it, in the way you kissed her, and she saw it shining in your eyes, and in your smile, and she heard it in your voice too. So she tried to find an explanation. You were lonely, in need of company, and a good actress. You were smitten and infatuation blinded you but it wouldn’t last. You were an angel. You had taken pity on her.

She couldn’t find a reason. Some nights it made her so angry she felt like smashing all your things or – even better – destroying herself. She wanted to hurt you and to pull the truth out of your throat so she would understand why and how you were smiling at her like that.

She didn’t believe that you would stay and she didn’t understand why you were here in the first place, but she found that she rather liked your presence. Loved. So she fought against her impulse to be mean and agreed to sometimes share a few things with you; things that lived at the surface, not the big, the dark, the important things that lived deep within her – there was no point sharing those. She hid those and she hid her shame so maybe you would stay a little longer than you had planned.

It was selfish, she knew it. But she was way past selfishness.

You met her on a Saturday afternoon. It was the fall and outside the leaves were falling.

You were scrolling on your phone as you sat, bored, on a chair by the fitting rooms, waiting for your roommate who was trying on the new sexy underwear she’d need in case she successfully seduced the boy who had just moved in next door.

You were distracted by an unfamiliar sound, and looked up just as a woman walked in, supporting herself on a cane and looking as if she owned the whole world. It seemed to you even her nostrils flared a little, in outrage that some servant hadn’t sprayed myrrh or sandal wood in the air to celebrate her arrival.

You eyed her as she passed you, and quickly lowered your gaze as hers met yours. Her eyes were dark. Cold. Glazed.

This woman is scared, you thought, without knowing where the thought came from. She’s terrified.

Just as you were glancing up at her again, your roommate burst out from her fitting room with her arms thrown up in triumph and crashed right into the woman.

The shock sent her stumbling backwards, until her legs bumped into your knees and she fell onto your lap.

Instinctively your hands fell on either side of her waist to steady her, and you felt her flinch and tense up.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

And already she was pushing herself up onto her feet, and you sat as if petrified on your chair, your cheeks flushed, your hands still held up, the reminder of how she had felt burning low right under your skin.

Your roommate immediately walked up to the woman with an apologetic expression on her face and one hand raised as if to touch her shoulder, but she was stopped by the loud, threatening noise of her cane hitting the ground.

The sudden noise broke the trance you had fallen into. You jumped, remembered where you were, became aware that your roommate was wearing a low-cut black lace nightdress that barely hid her body. And the woman was staring at her with anger burning like a low fire in her eyes, but the rest of her face was completely blank, unreadable, terrible.

Your roommate cleared her throat, and decided her safest option was to ignore her. She turned to you, opened her arms and asked in a voice which, to her credit, barely shook at all: “How do I look?”

“Horrendous,” the woman said, her voice quiet and low but laced with contempt and mockery.

What happened next you saw as a movie on a big screen. It felt unreal, somehow, but most of all it felt scripted; part of you already knew exactly what your role would be. It didn’t ask for your approval. It just happened.

Your roommate turned back towards the woman, fists clenching and eyes shining. “Excuse me?” she said, not quiet as the woman had, but loud, and angry.

The woman smirked. “I said,” she answered, still as slowly, “you look horrendous.”

“Then why don’t you try it on and we’ll see if you look any better!” your roommate nearly screamed.

Your gaze was riveted on the woman’s face, and you saw something uneasy flicker in her eyes.

Your roommate saw it, too. Her confidence flared up.

“Come on,” she laughed, taking one step forward. “Go get one your size and put it on I dare you.”

At that exact moment a vendor walked in, alerted by the noise, to peer curiously at the scene. The woman quickly scanned his face, assessing danger.

“Do you ladies need anything?” the vendor asked.

“Yes,” your roommate roared, “another nightdress and then stay with us, you can be our judge, you can decide if she looks any better than me wearing it.”

“I think you look very good,” the vendor said to your roommate politely.

“Ah!” your roommate exulted, turning to the woman again, her eyes burning their way down to rest on her cane, and then up again to sneer, her face shining with the certainty of her triumph.

That was when, as was scripted, you stood up. You didn’t become aware of your action until your roommate glanced curiously at you. And then you heard yourself speak, something about decency, about kindness, about you leaving if your roommate was going to be such an ass.

You didn’t know what you were saying. Your roommate’s expressions were your only guide. You saw surprise, and then anger. Her eyes narrowed a little. They told you it would take time for her to forgive such a betrayal.

Later, you would say that surely it had been fate pulling the strings. But back then, all that you knew was your body’s vibrating, burning, coming to life with the reminder of how the woman had felt.

“I didn’t need your help,” Wilhemina – Ms Venable? Wilhemina – snapped a few minutes later, as you walked out of the store together. The air was cold and already smelt of winter.

“Would you like to get a drink?” you heard yourself say.

She let out an incredulous laugh. “Certainly not.” Another laugh, eyes falling on your face, briefly, as if to make sure you were real.

“Does that mean I’ll never see you again?” was what you said next, and you would have blushed at the plea in your voice if you hadn’t been so intent on making her stay.

“We’ve barely talked,” Wilhemina said, face hardening, “why are you so interested in me?”

She was suspicious, wary, ready to jump at your throat. You didn’t know how to explain what was happening to you – the vibrating, the coming to life – without sounding like a complete fool.

“Let me walk you to your car,” you offered.

Wilhemina hesitated. Nodded.

When you reached her car, she stood with her back to the door and you laughed nervously and started rambling about the weather because you didn’t want to see her go just yet. You said how autumn was your favorite season because of all the colors and of all the smells. You said you wanted a life full of falls. You said, Falls as in the season, but also as in falling in love. Here you averted your eyes and felt yourself blush.

It wasn’t you talking. It couldn’t be. It was too bold.

You looked up again and said, Why don’t we go on a walk? and don’t stop, until we’ve found a leaf the exact same color as your hair.

At this very moment the breeze blew into Wilhemina’s eyes a strand of hair that had escaped her impeccable ponytail, and she raised her hand to brush it away, fingers gracefully grazing her skin with just a touch of annoyance, and you thought - Dear Lord, you thought, as one thinks who has just fallen in love.

But you didn’t believe in love at first sight, you reminded yourself. What was it, then? You had seen the dragon and you had seen the princess and they were the same.

But you were no hero. Curiosity? Or your soul whispering to her soul?

But wasn’t that love?

You took a peek. There was inside you the irresistible desire to know everything about her.

You insisted you gave her your number and she accepted it “to get rid of you.”

On the third day after that, she called you.

The full moon had risen a few minutes ago and the night shadows had retreated into the corners, where they lurked. You shifted closer to Wilhemina and nuzzled her neck with your nose.

“I’m sorry about the vase,” she whispered. You hummed. Her hand fell on your head. I’m sorry I snapped at you.

You pulled away to meet her eyes, and traced her brow with your thumb. The moonlight painted her in black and silver.

You trailed your finger over her shoulder and stopped at the collar of her nightdress.

“Will you let me see you?” you asked.

You were not sure you were brave enough to watch. But you asked anyway.

Her eyes met yours again. “Don’t forget the story of Lot’s wife,” she answered. “Orpheus and Eurydice. Medusa.”

You planted a kiss on her cheek.

“What these stories teach me is that everyone looks.”

“And they all die.”

“No. They all turn into something else.”

“Eurydice dies,” Wilhemina insisted.

“Are you afraid I’ll die if I see you?”

She shook her head. She let go of you. “It’s not the one who sees that dies. It’s the one who is seen.”

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

You propped yourself up on one elbow to watch her as she got up and crossed the room to the window. She closed it against the cold.

“Are you afraid I’ll leave you?” you insisted.

“I like you blind,” she said.

“But I’d love to see you.”

She turned, gave you a smile that shone a little defiantly. “When Oedipus finally saw, he stabbed himself in the eyes.”

You fell back on the bed with a groan. “Enough with mythology. We aren’t gods. We aren’t heroes.” You opened your arms to hold her close as she slowly made her way back to bed.

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” you asked, bending to avoid a branch full of golden and red leaves.

“I do,” Wilhemina answered. “I spent yesterday evening reading about mushrooms.”

You grinned at her.

“One of us had to make sure we won’t die intoxicated,” she said, a little coldly.

“That’s very noble of you,” you teased.

This was about a month after you two had first met. You now spent most of your spare time together. Wilhemina had even stopped doing extra hours at work to spend them with you instead. Your roommate barely saw you anymore. She had complained about your absence and asked whether she should look for someone else.

You had always craved a strong connection with someone, and it seemed you had finally found it. You didn’t need words to communicate with Wilhemina, as if your soul and her soul were made of the same stuff. You could point at a star in the night sky and knew she felt the same about it. Knew you were understood.

You wanted to spend every second of every day with her.

Two nights ago, you had kissed her. You hadn’t expected it of yourself. It was too brave, too bold. That’s how you knew that you loved her.

She had frozen with her hand on your thigh, eyes wide open, breath caught in her throat, until suddenly something had changed and she had turned ravenous. She had kissed you back as if you were the ghost of a long-lost lover she was about to lose again, and the desperation she had poured into your mouth had made you fear that this was too much for one person to bear; too much need, too much anger, too much love required to fill the gaping, sucking black hole inside her. You had broken the kiss, panting, and almost run away. But the way she had held on to your wrist, the way she had looked at you, the feel of her on your lips – you had stayed.

None of you had mentioned the kiss since then. She seemed to be waiting for you to make the next move, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. Weren’t sure you were brave enough.

“Look here,” Wilhemina said, pointing at a small cluster of brown mushrooms half hidden under dead leaves.

You crouched down to examine them. “Yes,” you smiled, “these look like penny buns.”

You picked one for Wilhemina to look at.

“Butter, garlic and parsley,” you grinned, watching her as she inspected the mushroom, held delicately between two fingers. “One or two potatoes.”

Wilhemina hummed and cautiously put the mushroom in the basket she was holding.

You took the basket from her so you could hold her hand as you walked slowly down the path. Wilhemina glanced sideways at you, as if to make sure ill intent wasn’t shining in your eyes, before she pushed her palm against yours and laced her fingers with yours.

After a few minutes you stopped looking for mushrooms and gazed up at the beautiful leaves instead. The air was cold and crisp, and smelt of damp earth and decaying leaves. Every so often the sound of something falling – a dead branch, an acorn – reached your ears.

Wilhemina’s heart was drumming against your palm. Was it your touch, you wondered, that made it beat so fast?

She wasn’t looking at the ground either. She kept glancing at you. You knew this, because you kept glancing at her, too, and more than once you found her gaze already on your face. The first time your eyes met, you both blushed, and if Wilhemina quickly looked away, you found it impossible not to gaze at the dusting of pink on her cheeks.

“Look,” you breathed.

On your left between two oak trees was a small, round, dark pond. Its surface was half covered with leaves and you wouldn’t have noticed it at all if the wind hadn’t blown the branches above and sunlight hadn’t caught it. Wilhemina and you paused at the edge of it, hand in hand, to look at your reflections in the dark water.

“It looks like a fairy pond,” you whispered.

Wilhemina hummed her assent. You stroked your thumb over hers as you stared at her reflection, fully clothed, tall but with the edges trembling.

“If we stay here long enough maybe we’ll see a doe.”

“You’d never have the patience,” Wilhemina teased.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I would if we had something to do to keep each other busy.”

Something, very close, fell from a tree.

It felt like dissolving into the golden light – like becoming part of something beautiful – when Wilhemina gently pressed her lips to yours. The basket stood between you two, so she hastily set it down on the ground before she captured your lips again, shyly, so very delicately it made you tremble. As if you were something precious. Something to be treasured.

It was this gentleness that made you kiss her back.

When you broke the kiss, Wilhemina squinted in the sunlight that fell through the branches and directly into her eyes. Dear you, she looked so scared. You wanted to push her, to make her fall so she would know you would always catch her. You wanted her to do the same to you.

You started walking again. You were both so focused on the other that you forgot the basket. You remembered it five minutes later. You found it funny; Wilhemina’s jaw tightened with anger. It had never happened to her before, she assured you. She didn’t forget things. The implication made her shiver.

You walked back to the pond and found the basket on the moss where you had left it.

From where you were lying between her legs, you slipped your hand under her shirt to feel the warm softness of her tummy.

“Don’t you sometimes wish you didn’t have a body?” she asked.

You glanced up at her sleepily. She was reading your book, the one you had finished just a few days ago – you wondered if it was the same sentence that had caused her to stop.

You dropped a kiss on her hip. “I rather like having a body,” you answered. “And I love that you have one yourself. How would I kiss you otherwise?”

“Without a body, you wouldn’t need or want to kiss me.”

You considered, hand absentmindedly stroking her tummy.

“I don’t know,” Wilhemina went on. She was thumbing the book nervously, her eyes a little glazed. “It seems to me the body only brings its owner pain.”

“But I love your body,” you retorted.

“I am sick of it,” she said. “I am sick of the competition that comes with it. The pain, the probing, the examination.”

You watched her in silence. How could you tell her that some days when you woke up before dawn you would spend long minutes delighting in the sight of her body? And that you would press your lips on her skin to kiss, not who she was, but the body that you loved.

You took the book from her (you were starting to think that giving it to her in the first place hadn’t been the brightest of ideas. She had never told you the kind of surgeries she had undergone, the kind of names she had been called. You didn’t like the look on her face now) and put your arms around her waist. You pressed your cheek against her thigh and closed your eyes.

“I don’t like my body (she knew this already. You’d told her before). I think it’s too flat. And yet you find it beautiful. Maybe that’s mankind’s curse. Maybe that’s beauty’s curse. The beautiful doesn’t know it’s beautiful until someone comes along and tells it so.”

She started running her fingers through your hair, and you opened your eyes to find her gazing at you with a fond and thoughtful smile. She checked herself when your eyes met. Her face hardened a little.

“No need,” you smiled.

And then you were crawling up the bed, planting kisses on the strip of skin between her panties and her shirt, and then up her cleavage, smiling when she pushed her head back to give you better access to her neck. You twisted a strand of her hair around your finger – hair let down, only for you – and slid your other hand down to cup her center, determined to take her mind off the horrors she had read, or been reminded of.

You had made love before, but never entirely exposed, never entirely seen. Part of you loved it. Another part of you hated that you loved it. That part wanted you to stop being cowardly and to take the jump. To fall. Tear off the sheet, tear down the tower’s walls.

What terrified you the most was, there would be no going back, the day she would show you her back.

Your fingers started massaging her clit over her panties.

“How would you be able to feel me if you didn’t have a body?” you breathed, lips planting open-mouthed kisses up her neck.

Wilhemina’s only answer was a small, breathy whimper. She lifted her hips to push against your hand.

You followed the sound of her voice to her bedroom. She sounded afraid. You hurried.

“Y/N?”

“I’m right here,” you called, as your hand closed around the door handle. “Is today the day I’m going to,learn you’re terribly scared of spiders?” you joked, to try and curb the worry in you.

You pushed the door open, walked in and stopped as if suddenly turned into stone.

Wilhemina was standing with her back to you, facing the mirror on the wall. She was wearing the low-cut nightdress your roommate had dared her to try on all those months ago at the store. She was trembling.

You held her gaze in the mirror, unable to breathe, heart speeding up until all you could hear was its mad, terrified, elated gallop.

For a moment you stood completely still, not daring to look at her back, until the fear in Wilhemina’s eyes threatened to spill over, and you took a step forward.

Gently you gathered her hair in one hand and pushed it over her shoulder. Wilhemina’s gaze in the mirror glazed over, looked through you and at a place where she was safe and numb.

You took a deep breath. You watched.

A shiver ran through you as your gaze followed the diverted course of her spine, skin pulled taut over the bones. For a moment you watched with the awe-stricken eyes of one who is shown a terrible thing, terrible yet fascinating, for the watcher is safe from it. Then you swallowed, and forced your attention back on the importance of the moment.

You were still not breathing as you trailed your fingertips down her back to the black lace hugging her waist, and then back up again, lingering this time, stroking every scar.

Wilhemina’s breath hitched when you pressed your lips on her spine. Grazing her skin, planting a kiss. You rested your chin on her shoulder and waited for her to come back to you, pressing your front against her back to show her you were not disgusted, not disappointed, not running away.

When her gaze turned clear enough for her to see you again, you offered her a tender smile, and stroked up and down her arms.

Wilhemina drew in air through her teeth. “This kind of nightdress wasn’t made for people like me,” she breathed out.

“Nonsense,” you cut her off. “You look beautiful.”

And dear you, she did, with her eyes barely guarded now and the lace barely hiding the swell of her breasts, nipples peaking under the delicate fabric. Your arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer against you.

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. She was still trembling against you.

“How are you feeling?”

She let out a self-deprecatory laugh. “Like I don’t want to be here.” She took hold of one of your hands. Her eyes glossed over.

“Does it terrify you,” you breathed, trailing your lips down her neck, “to know that I have seen you and found you beautiful?” A pause. Your heart was beating too fast. “That I have seen you and decided to stay?”

In the silence that followed you heard your words echo all around you. You had expected each one of them to sow a grain of fear inside you. That wasn’t what happened. Instead each one of them pulled up a fear sprout that had already been sown inside you.

Wilhemina’s eyes met yours in the mirror to share her surprise. For she was – okay? There had been no harsh landing? She let her body relax and she realized that, even though her mind was still very anxiously expecting danger, she wasn’t hurting. She was okay.

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#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #ahs #ahs imagines #fics

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tendousthoughts · 3 years

Text

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

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daenqyu · 3 years

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promise me | bakugou katsuki

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @birds-have-teeth )

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

genre: angsty fluff

summary: you’re used to dealing with your problems all on your own, but sometimes the weight becomes too heavy. and just when you feel like you’re about to fall, bakugou is always there to steady you back on your feet.

warnings: suicidal thoughts, descriptions of a panic attack, dark thoughts in general

word count: 3.2k

a/n: at first i wasn’t gonna post this because it was more of a comfort fic for me since i’ve been struggling a lot recently and bakugou is my comfort character, but i thought this could make other people feel better too so yeah :)

small disclaimer: this is completely based on my OWN, PERSONAL experience !!!!! if you ever experience suicidal thoughts, please seek help; you’re not alone. and you’re loved. you’re worth it.

IT was too much. you couldn’t handle it. you thought you could and that’s why you decided to not tell anyone, especially not bakugou. he knew about your struggles and burdens; at some point in your relationship you decided you felt comfortable enough to share that part of yourself with him and even tho he couldn’t really understand all of your emotions, he was still very supportive. but of course that didn’t mean you told him everything. sure, you trusted him with your life and you knew he would never judge you, but that wasn’t enough to make the voices in your head go away.

for a while everything seemed to be fine, you had managed to keep yourself distracted enough to not have to be alone with your thoughts. whether it was hanging out with friends, going on dates with bakugou, or watching tv shows, you were always busy with something. but there’s only so much one can do to stop themselves from thinking, or in your case, overthinking.

the nights were the worst. normally you’d watch random videos until your eyes started hurting from the brightness of you phone and then go to bed, but there were times when even that wasn’t enough. when not even heavy metal songs could be as loud as your dark thoughts, and they only seemed to intensify the more you tried to push them away. you tossed and turned on bed in hopes of eventually tiring yourself out, yet you ended up sitting on the mattress with hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried your best to catch your breathing.

all the emotions you suppressed for months now suddenly came crashing down on you, forcing you to face your inner demons and making you realize just how not okay you were. you couldn’t quite pinpoint what was bothering you so much; it was everything, yet nothing at the same time. it was about you, but also everyone else in your life. it was about not knowing who you were, about losing yourself and not really knowing what you were doing with your life. it was about thinking you were a failure, yet better than most people. it was confusing. and it was eating you alive.

your hands tugged at your hair so tight a part of you was afraid you were gonna rip it off and your chin rested on your knees as you brought them up to your chest in a feeble attempt to hug yourself.

this always happens. stop making such a big deal about it. why are you even crying? you’re so ungrateful. such an attention seeker. completely pathetic. why is bakugou even dating you? he might as well leave you for someone better. prettier. smarter.

loud sobs left your mouth as your thoughts mentally destroyed you, your insecurities getting the best of you. but it was more than that. this wasn’t just about not feeling good enough or thinking you didn’t deserve your boyfriend. it was about thinking you would be better off. after all you were just a bother, right? you would be doing everyone a favor if you just fucking did it, but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because you were scared. because you were a coward.

at some point it became too much, you could barely even breathe and your chest was hurting, or maybe it was your heart, along with your head, which’s pounding had become almost unbearable. your eyes burned from all the crying and you could feel the puffiness beginning to form around them. with trembling hands and blurry vision, you took your phone in your hands and dialed the only person you knew was capable of helping you in a situation like this.

the blonde haired boy groaned when he heard his phone ringing from the nightstand next to his bed. he rubbed his eyes before mentally insulting whoever was calling him so fucking late at night, but just as he was about to start screaming onto the phone’s speaker, he saw your name flash across the screen and his whole expression changed in less that a second. because you were his exception to everything.

“y/n? do you know what fucking time it is? this better be-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence when a sob coming from your end interrupted him. suddenly he was up and about, his eyes widening as he sat on his bed, all the sleepiness he felt moments ago disappearing at the heartbreaking sound. “are you- are you crying?”

“k-katsuki,” he cringed, hating the way your voice sounded so broken and not like your usual self. and while he didn’t know what was going on exactly, he had a pretty good idea.

“i’m here,” he tried to assure you, but he hated how your sobs only got louder after that. “what happened? are you okay?”

“no. it’s bad,” you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, not when you needed him the most. “i’m s-sorry for calling you so late, i-”

“you don’t have to apologize. i wasn’t that tired anyways,” he bit his lower lip, debating on what he should do next. “do you want me to come over?”

“yes,” you didn’t even hesitate; it almost sounded like you were begging and bakugou could feel his breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “please, i need you.” that was all he needed to hear before he hung up, throwing the phone on his desk as he hurriedly put on whatever shirt he had laying around, not bothering to put shoes on. he didn’t have time to think about some stupid footwear. he stumbled while running towards your dorm room, not giving a fuck about how loud his steps were or if he could wake up his classmates.

much to his luck, your room wasn’t that far away from his so he got there in less than two minutes. he could feel his heart hammering against his chest as his hand gripped the door’s knob, but he didn’t waste any time before turning it around and letting himself inside. the sight before his eyes made something inside bakugou break. you were sitting down on the floor with your knees up to your chest, hands clutching your head tightly as choked sobs kept leaving your mouth. and he hated it. he hated it because he knew exactly how you felt; the same way he felt every night when he was alone in the confines of his room and his thoughts were the only thing keeping him company.

you hadn’t noticed him, too focused on trying not to pass out, so he made his way over to you slowly in order to not startle you. he kneeled down in front of you, quickly recalling the website he had read a few days ago that talked about what to do when a person was having a panic attack. his hand gently touched your shoulder, careful not to scare you, and while you still flinched at the sudden touch, your expression somewhat softened after seeing it was none other than your boyfriend.

“hey beautiful,” he smiled softly at you, or at least tried his best since all he wanted to do was scream and fight someone. because you didn’t deserve this. someone as kind as you didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. “can you hear me?” you nodded, tears still running down your cheeks and your whole body trembling. “good, now let’s take a few deep breaths,” he inhaled deeply before exhaling, wanting you to repeat his actions and you tried. your hands stopped gripping your scalp, instead opting for bakugou’s arms, which were at each side of you as they held onto your shoulders. “you’re doing great, just focus on me okay? only me.” you nodded once again, still trying to ease your breathing pattern as you stared into his beautiful vermilion eyes, the ones that always managed to intimidate you (in a good way of course).

after a few more minutes of breathing exercises, you managed to stop the pants that came out of your mouth, but tears still ran down your cheeks as the thoughts never ceased, perhaps getting louder and louder with every passing second. you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and curl yourself into a ball, but you knew that wasn’t gonna solve anything. so you kept holding on to your boyfriend’s arms, as if he was the only thing holding you down to earth.

this better fucking work, bakugou thought to himself before he spoke up again, “y/n, can you tell me five things you can see?”

“you,” talking was still hard, yet you forced yourself to look around the room and answer his question correctly. “my p-phone, the desk, d-dirty laundry, and,” all this thinking made the pounding in your head worse, but at least you weren’t focusing on the voices. “my stuffed t-teddy bear.”

“hm, four things you can touch?” one of his hands tenderly gripped your shoulder, his eyes never leaving yours.

“y-you, your shirt, the c-carpet, and m-my pj’s.” the dizziness in your head started to come to a halt and you sniffled, thankful that bakugou was able to make things better. like always.

“that’s it, you’re doing so well. now three things you can hear?” his head turned around to leave an innocent kiss on the skin of your forearm, his gaze still focused on your face.

“your voice, t-the rain, and the air conditioner.” the feeling of bakugou’s lips made you come back to your senses slowly but surely. now your hands were the only thing trembling, not your whole body.

“you’re almost there baby, two things you can smell?”

“my diffuser and your perfume,” a small smile made its way to your lips as you breathed in his scent, letting out a pleasant sigh as the smell filled your nostrils. “caramel.”

bakugou scoffed, a soft blush splashed across his cheeks as he looked away from you for a moment.

“one thing you can taste?”

you took in a deep breath, not really knowing what to answer until you licked your lips and tasted the familiar sweetness of your chapstick, “cherry.” your grip on bakugou’s arm loosened, but still lingered there. he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, feeling a big weight off his shoulders knowing you could breathe properly again, but he was still bothered by the situation.

“dumbass, don’t ever scare me like that again.” his words were rather rough yet you knew he meant no harm, you knew he was genuinely scared for your well being and that was just his way of voicing out his concern.

“i’m sorry.”

“what did i tell you about apologizing all the damn time?” he groaned, letting his arms fall to his sides as your hands came up to wipe your remaining tears away. you sent him an apologetic smile before sighing, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to wrap your head around everything that happened.

meanwhile, bakugou stared intently at you, wondering whether or nor he should ask what caused the sudden outburst. he didn’t want to make you feel worse, but if he knew you like he thought he did (which he does), you’d probably end up bottling everything inside until you had another breakdown. and he’ll be damned if he ever let’s that happen again.

silently, he crawled towards you. and once he was close enough, he positioned himself behind you so you could sit on his lap and you happily complied. you cuddled your face against his warm chest, enjoying the comfort it provided, and bakugou placed his chin on top of your head, keeping you close to him. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just basking in each other’s presence, but in reality bakugou was just giving you some more time to calm down before pestering you with questions that could possibly overwhelm you.

“you want to talk about it?” he was still keeping his tone low and gentle; anyone who heard him would’ve been extremely confused by his sudden change in demeanor. because he could be a lot of things, but gentle was not one of them. then again, you were his exception. you were different.

“i...don’t know,” your hands played with the hem of his black tank top, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to find the right words to describe your internal turmoil. “it’s just...everything piling up and never knowing what to do,” bakugou leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, quietly letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, that made you want to cry all over again. “you know when you get really tired of yourself and your life?” he hesitantly nodded, not knowing where you were going with this. “well i feel like that everyday. a-and sometimes i think it would all be better if i disappeared.”

it took him approximately 5 seconds to get what you exactly meant by disappearing, but when he did boy was he mad. his eyebrows furrowed and his grip on you tightened, an annoyed, yet concerned expression evident on his face. how could you say that? you were his everything, the only one who could calm him down, the one who made him smile by just breathing; his light. he wouldn’t know what to do without you, hell he didn’t even want to imagine it.

“you’re such an idiot,” a smile tugged your lips at his harsh choice of words, the complete opposite of the hold he had on you. “you listen to me because you know how much i hate repeating myself,” one of his hands grabbed your chin softly, yet firmly as he tilted your head to make you look at him directly. “feeling like this is not your fault. i know that it’s easier to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in your life, trust me, i know. but there are things in life that we just can’t control and most definitely aren’t responsible for.”

you scoffed, “well you’re one to talk.”

“tch, such a smartass, aren’t you?” bakugou rolled his eyes at your remark. “that’s exactly why i’m telling you all this, dumbass. because i don’t want you to go through what i did, especially when you have me by your side to help you.” your eyes widened at his sweet confession, gaze softening at the boy in front of you. he avoided it, looking to the side with rosy cheeks.

“katsuki…” you lowered your voice, lifting your hand to place it on bakugou’s cheek and your heart jumped when he looked at you. his eyes reflected nothing but pure love and adoration, and you were sure yours were the exact same. without saying another word, you kissed him softly, fingers caressing his soft skin. the kiss was short and innocent, but it made bakugou smile ever so slightly.

“let me finish,” he said once you pulled away and the determination in his voice made you nod, knowing he needed to say whatever was on his mind. “i know there’s nothing i can do to make your pain disappear or for you to change your mindset because that’s not how it works. but i am and will always be here for you. i don’t give a shit if you think you’re gonna bother me or if it’s late or if you think it’s something stupid, you just tell me. and if the thoughts continue then maybe we can even get a professional to help you, but please don’t give up on me.” the crack in his voice at the end of his sentence made your heart stutter.

both of your hands cradled bakugou’s face, your eyes desperately looking for his once again. when he finally looked at you, you saw the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and how hard he was trying to hold himself back from breaking down. he needed to be strong. he couldn’t be weak in front of you. you were the one who needed to be comforted, not him. so with those thoughts in mind, bakugou sniffled and roughly wiped the unshed tears away. but you didn’t move from your place.

“so promise me,” he pulled you impossibly close, your faces barely inches apart. “promise me you won’t give up, that you’ll fight and be stronger than your demons because you fucking are. you’re so much stronger than you think, shit you’re probably stronger than me!” your eyes widened, surprised he even said something like that, but knowing he 100% meant it. because bakugou didn’t lie. “promise me.”

you nodded multiple times, taking out your pinky to show him you were serious about this. and while bakugou thought you couldn’t be any more childish, he still grinned and interlaced his own pinky with yours, “i promise.”

“good, now let’s sleep because i’m tired as fuck.” you rolled your eyes at the sudden change in attitude.

“knew it was too good to be true.” he raised an eyebrow at your comment, standing up to lay down on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming him with your scent.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing, let’s just sleep.” you sent him a smile before laying down next to him, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you even closer.

you turned around in his hold to properly look at him. his head rested comfortably against the pillow, his hair messy and sticking up in all different directions, while his eyes lazily looked over at you. he looked angelic, ethereal even. without thinking it twice, you ran one of your hands through his hair, giggling when he let out a happy hum and gripped your hips, as if telling you to keep going. he looked so pretty, lips slightly pouty as he forced himself to stay awake for a little longer. at least until you fell asleep.

“wanna know something really cheesy?” he sounded tired and you felt bad for keeping him awake so late when he probably had a long day. nevertheless, you hummed and continued to comb your fingers through his hair. “you’re fucking amazing. absolutely mesmerizing,” bakugou opened his eyes to look at you better, a small smile tugging his lips upwards as he saw your flushed expression, trying to look away from him, but he didn’t let you. “i love you, y/n.”

he’s said it before, and you should be used to it by now, but it never fails to make you heat up and feel all fuzzy inside. bakugou looks so serious, because he wants you to know he truly means it, yet so soft at the same time and you know this isn’t easy for him. he doesn’t like showing his vulnerable side to people, thinking it makes him weak, so to have him open up to you and declare his love for you so openly makes you feel special. because you’re the only one who knows this side of him.

“i love you more, katsuki.” another genuine smile grazes bakugou’s lips after hearing you call him by his first name, your voice sweet like honey.

he presses a kiss on your forehead as he lets you snuggle up against him, “go to sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.”

that night, you slept peacefully, knowing you’re safe in bakugou’s arms. you don’t know what tomorrow or any other day holds for you, but if you have him by your side, you know you can overcome anything.

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beewritings · 3 years

Text

our final night alive

Eren Jaeger x Reader one shot.

Afab reader, gender neutral pronouns used!

Content Warning: angst & nsfw. Slight violence, first time blowjobs, first time vaginal sex. Not spoiler free, manga is preferred to have been read.

Posted on my ao3.

Summary: You and Eren become lovers, but he disappears years later and it causes conflict on your relationship. I’m bad at summaries I’m so sorry

5.9k words. This is posted on my phone I’m so sorry if the layout is ugly lol. First story posted on here!! :) Feedback is welcomed!

you and eren got together not long after annie was caught being the female titan. you, eren, armin and mikasa became close friends during your cadet days.

you shared a bunk with mikasa, and seeing as she was always focused on eren and armin, you were scared to become her friend because you were unsure if she even wanted friends. you and her became sparring partners during training one day and she, obviously, kept beating you. at some point, eren walks over and tells her to give you a break and so she apologizes to you. from that point on, you always saw eren as a life saver. yes, she kept dropping you to the ground so much to the point where you were in pain so eren saved you. you accepted her apology, of course, and you even got to ask her if you could be friends. mikasa shrugged, but eren answered for her: he said he’d like that. he introduced himself and he called for armin and you introduced yourselves. the four of you never thought you’d actually join their friend group. these were the first friends you made and you never felt happier in your life.

“y/n, what made you want to join the cadet corps? you never told us,” you remember armin asking you one day.

“oh… um… it’s a stupid reason. it’s not worth mentioning… it’ll make it seem like i’m a joke..”

“no reason is stupid. except for that horse face’s reason, that bastard is a coward!” eren said, screeching.

“um.. well as a kid, i was neglected by both my parents. they were so focused on my older brother joining the military police and so happy for him that they basically forgot about me a lot. they always called me a disappointment and such and it always made me feel like shit..”

“so you joined to prove to them you’re worthy?”

“what? hell no, i joined so i could get away from them. i was tired of being treated like i was a mistake child so my choices were either join the military to slowly kill myself or join the military to get away from my terrible parents. i honestly haven’t felt happy probably my whole life. but then i met you guys and now i feel like i have a purpose to be here? i want to protect you guys. all three of you…”

eren gives a slight smile and then it turns into a bright one. he leans to his left and wraps an arm around your shoulder and his other arm around armin and pulls them in. you and armin wrap one arm around mikasa and you all hug each other. you knew you were there to protect them all. even though mikasa is always there to try and protect eren, you know she needed someone to protect her, and you know for a fact someone had to be there for armin.

when discussing what branch of the military you guys were going to join, you four chose to join the scout regiment. then so much happened between when you talked about what you were going to join and graduating as cadets. there were days where you and eren would work together practicing and even though you were her friend, mikasa would keep watching you to make sure you wouldn’t get too close to him. she never told you that she would watch, but she was. when you and eren would spar, there’d be times where he’d pin you on the ground and straddle you with the wooden knife pointing to your neck. you started gaining a crush on eren, not knowing he was too, and you’d blush instead of defending yourself. at some point, you did push him right off of you and pin him instead, which resulted in him with a red face instead.

when switching partners, you sparred with armin next while eren went to reiner. instead of sparring armin, you tried teaching him moves since you knew he was fragile and it wouldn’t have been a fair fight. armin brought up the topic of you and eren.

“so, you and eren? i saw you guys being flustered while sparring.”

“w-w-what??? nooooo, i wasn't flustered???? no one was flustered, armin. haha..” way to be obvious, y/n.

armin giggles and immediately drops the conversation.

eventually, time passes and the colossal titan decides to return, bringing titans with it. cadets are to help kill titans. you ended up on another squad, but you remind yourself to keep in contact with eren and armin. you couldn't keep sight of mikasa being she was with the higher ups, but you tried. you remember crashing into armin with ymir and connie. that's when you find out that… eren got eaten by a titan. it broke your heart, you felt the pieces inside of you tearing apart. you tried being strong but.. tears started to fall. mikasa made her way and she found out too, armin screaming in tears of all the members in his squad who'd died. mikasa was silently angry, calling everyone cowards. she soars off with little gas, and you immediately chase after her. she flew away so quickly, you couldn’t catch up with her. you had to protect her, you promised to protect your friends. one is already gone, you couldn’t have another one disappear. if she disappears, how can you trust yourself to protect armin? after you all made it to the building, killed the titans inside and got to refilling your gases, you find out that the titan who was killing other titans was none other than eren, the kid you started to gain feelings for.

time skip to capturing annie, the female titan, you and eren had finally gotten alone time. a time to talk your feelings out as eren heals from his fight with her. you went to visit him when you know everyone already has, but when you know he was still awake. it’s been a few years since you’ve met and started gaining feelings, being as you met when you were 12 and are now 15.

“hey, eren. how’re you feelin’, titan boy?”

“ugh, don’t call me that, y/n. that’s the least thing i wanna hear from you.”

“sorry…”

“.... y/n?”

“eren?” you both say at the same time.

“oh, you can-”

“no no, you go.”

you both give off small laughs.

“you go first, y/n.”

“um. well, i’m pretty sure this is the wrong time to bring this up considering you’re tired from fighting that female titan. plus this war isn’t near over and i shouldn’t be focused on feelings because we are soldiers but, uh. i have-”

“me too,” eren cuts in.

“feelings, i- what? i didn’t even finish-”

“it’s been obvious. well, not really. i didn’t think it was obvious, but i figured by the way we’ve been acting towards each other. we always get flustered when we’re close to each other. y/n, did you even realize that you’re holding my hand?”

you both look down and see that you’re holding his hand. you snatch it back with a flushed face and start stuttering.

“i-i-i always h-hold my friends' hands!!! i k-know you’ve seen me hold armin’s!! please, y-you’re not special, eren jaeger!”

eren giggles and blushes as well, leaning to grab your hand once more, this time interlocking the fingers.

“i agree. this isn’t the time for romance considering we are soldiers in the middle of a battle. but that doesn’t make me not want to further this relationship between us.. i-if you want that, that is…”

you bite your lip, looking away from him. you squeeze his hand and he caresses your skin with his thumb. you both kind of just ended the conversation there, but everything was mutual between the two of you. you knew what you wanted. a relationship, but never really having the title due to the war you all were going through. time flies and the battle with reiner and bertholdt to capture eren back from them happens. all you could feel about this battle was anger; you were going to get eren back. and you did. during the time where everyone was healing from it, that’s when you and eren both told both mikasa and armin about the little thing you guys had.

armin was supportive, he was easy. but mikasa took it a little hard, not showing it though. you pulled mikasa away and had a long talk with her about it, tell her you didn’t mean to catch feelings for the man she’d grown to protect with her life, it kind of just happened. but she couldn’t stay upset forever. she wishes for eren to be happy, and as she can see: you made him happy. the happiest he’s been. and she wants you, one of her best friends to be happy too, and clearly it was with eren. since then, you and eren have been open with your relationship. everyone knew, and no one tried to end it. when you guys told the crew, most of them basically said “we figured”. jean actually laughed and didn’t believe it at first, “really? in a relationship with that suicidal blockhead? yeah, alright .” so you did what any couple would do to prove their relationship, you kissed eren in front of them all, in plain sight. that was your first kiss. his, also. jean’s face turned red in embarrassment and he turned away. “alright, whatever. you’re both crazy.”

you miss him.

you miss eren. you all found out about what was truly outside the walls, and you helped eren cope the most. you know he really wanted to kill the enemy, they caused so much pain to his home inside the walls. he wanted revenge. you understood and supported his anger, you were there with him through every moment. his rants, his tears, his fears. you backed him up; you were on his side. so why did he still leave you alone? why did he disappear from you and your friends? why were you all in marley, watching his attack titan destroy it from above? you weren’t completely mad, you all were gonna infiltrate marley eventually, you just did it quicker and earlier than planned. when you saw him with your own eyes, his titan, your heart sunk. he looked so different.. has it really been that long? no way. and… he grew such long hair.. god. it was actually kind of hot, but you were too angry to admit it.

you sigh. you stood in the blimp, you didn’t do any fighting. you explicitly told commander hange and captain levi that when you arrive at marley, you refuse to fight. you were in gear, in case you had to, but you mainly stood in the ship with them. when everyone retreated after mikasa recaptured eren, captain levi kicked him to the wall. mikasa tries to run to them, but armin’ stops her. you were in a distance, out of eren’s eyesight but you could see him. you really hated his damn face right now.

two soldiers with guns run to him, pointing towards him. levi starts to speak to him once more.

“this brings back memories, eren. you have such a kickable face.” that earns a small chuckle from you. “after you’re tied up, let’s have a chat.”

“that’s fine, i explained everything in the letters though. did you not understand it?”

“tch. that face reminds me of the rotten shits who lived underground. never thought i would see it on you. but cheer up, everything happened like you wanted it to, right?”

eren just stares off into space, but then looks levi straight in the eyes and he mumbles out, “... where are they?”

“who?”

“you know who… where is y/n.”

“tch. oi, l/n. talk to your shithead boyfriend before anything else happens. i’m tired of looking at his disgusting face.”

levi walks away, tells the soldiers to chain him up and they walk away, leaving you finally in his eyesight. internally, his heart sinks. the look on your face was pure disgust, and anger. you walk towards him, and he looks up at you with his dead souled eyes. you clench your fists.

“y/n…”

you let out a huge breath. “eren.”

“... y/n, i’ve mis-”

you already know what he was going to say, and it just pisses you off. you growl and punch the wall behind his head. you lean your leg back and kick it right into his stomach. you grab a fistful of his hair, gripping it and bringing his face to yours. mikasa tries to push through armin, but armin manages to hold her back still.

“y/n, stop !” mikasa screams.

“do you have any FUCKING clue how worried i’ve been, eren?! HUH?! DO YOU??” you ignore mikasa, “besides mikasa, i probably was even more worried than her! YOU LEFT ME, EREN. are you stupid, eh? HUH? are you fucking stupid? you like knowing your partner is just worried sick about you? fuck the plan, if i wanted to i would throw you off this air ship myself. i don’t even like looking at how disgusting you look, you’re hideous. that dead look in your eyes. you’re not even eren! you’re some man who’s a fucking joke, you don’t care about us do you?! that time on the train? when you said we were all important to you? was that a lie? do you even think we are?” you bang his head into the wall and knee him in the face, bruising his nose and bleeding from it. tears start to well up in your eyes, “i missed you, eren… why’d you just leave us like that? i’m your partner… whatever, you’re not worth my time right now. i’m going to check on the others.”

you let go of eren’s hair, look at him a second more and make a disgusted face once more. “you’re not worth my tears.” you start to walk towards the back of the airship.

“you never left my mind the whole time i was there, y/n. i promise you. ”

you clench your fists and ignore him, continuing to walk to the others to see who made it on the airship.

“eren.”

“... y/n?”

you went to visit the prison before commander hange did. you needed to talk to him.

“we need to talk.”

“i’m all ears, my love.”

you hate that he’s seriously using pet names on you right now. it’s always been a weakness. my love, baby, lovebird. you loved them all.

“cute, we using pet names after i beat this shit out of you? okay, sweetie. i’ll call you titan man, yeah?”

“come on, don’t start that again. what are you here for, hm?”

“to talk.”

“okay.. so talk. come on, you know you want to start with how i look.”

“how you look? haha, okay. you want me to say that you look hot? that i want you to ravage me? bend me over and do nasty things to me?”

eren smirks, “actually, yeah. if that’s how you feel, i’d love to hear you say that.”

you chuckle, hating that he isn’t wrong. you do feel that way about him right now. him being really attractive right now, a man bun AND he’s shirtless? this is so unfair.

“well, too bad then. you won’t hear me say those words with confidence. but it would be nice…” you grin and lick your lips.

“oh? unlock these prison bars, and i’ll show you a good time then, baby.”

“no. let’s be serious now-”

“i am serious.”

“no, eren. we need to seriously have a talk,” you give out an exhale, “why’d you do it? do you have a plan in mind?” eren sighs, about to cut you off but you continue, “i’m being serious, eren. i’m not planning on telling the others. this is between us… why’d you leave me?” you start to tear up, “why, eren… you have a good reason for this, right?”

eren looks away from you, not wanting to make eye contact. “i have a plan, y/n. it’s going to work, i know it is.”

“what is it, baby? please, just between us two… i need to know why you left me for so long. i’ve been hurting so much. i love you eren, so fucking much. i literally can’t see myself without you, i see a future with you. please, eren. i want to be with you through it all, thick and thin. we are going to defeat marley together, right?”

“y/n. you are the light in my life, the reason i’m doing everything i am. i want you to live such a perfect life, whether it’s with me or not. i know what i’m doing. i’m doing it for you.”

“no.. no no no! you’re supposed to be doing it WITH me, not FOR me! we’re a pair, we do it together!” you bang on the prison bars, “please eren… i can help you.. yes, i’m upset with you, and i love armin and mikasa, even jean and connie! hell, i love sasha too, god rest her soul. i’m here to protect them all, just as i was in the cadets to protect you, armin and mika. but i love you the most, and if i had to choose… it’s always going to be you. i’d betray my comrades for you, eren-”

“no. no you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let you. i love you, y/n. with my life, my heart, my soul. i’m willing to die for you if i could, but i will not let you betray the others. they need you more than you need me.”

“eren…” you’re full blown crying now, tears running down your face and overall a crying mess. you reach your hands between the bars holding his face in them and he places his arms through the bars to your waist, “please, eren. let me be by your side. i know floch released information about you, us imprisoning you. it was a tough decision, but someone leaked information to me about how you’re going to escape and meet some of your, uh, followers? they didn’t know if they were supposed to tell me considering the fact i was so angry with you on the airship, but someone slipped up. i know that’s not your real plan, you have something else planned for this… there’s no way you want to be on zeke’s side.. right?”

eren laughs, “hell no. i fucking hate that guy.”

“then what are your true intentions, eren…” you run your thumb across his lips, glancing back and forth between his eyes and lips.

“... i can’t tell you. to protect you, armin, mikasa… the others. i can’t tell you. you’re not joining floch and my followers. you’re staying with the scouts.”

“eren, i’m not-”

“l/n? are you down there?”

you and eren pull away from your intimate hold, and put some distance between yourselves. you cough.

“yes, captain. sorry. i had to give eren another beating and more yelling.”

“well, get out. you’re not allowed to be alone with eren.”

“yessir!”

eren looks at you and looks away. you lean back in the prison bars, grab his shoulders and bring it between the bars. you give him a kiss, a light yet deep kiss. one that just screams, please eren. he kisses you back, putting one hand on your waist. you pull away from his lips.

“.... i love you, eren. please, reconsider,” you whisper.

“i love you, y/n. more than you ever will know, i promise to spend my last 4 years with you,” his words make you tilt your head in confusion, “you’ll understand later. i promise you .”

you start to walk back, but then you hear eren’s last words to you, “you gonna let me ravage you soon, right? don’t act like i know you don’t think i’m so hot now.”

you giggle and walk backwards to look back at him, “i’ll think about. maybe if you’re a good boy, you can bend me over and do nasty things to me. maybe more, yeah?”

“oh? is this a promise or are you a tease?’

“take your pick.”

you walk up the stairs, leaving the man of your dreams locked in the prison.

eren escaped the prison. he met with his followers, the jaegerists, just as you had known was going to happen. you and the squad went to a restaurant to talk with niccolo. you didn’t expect what happened to happen. sasha’s family were there to eat, niccolo found out that the girl who killed sasha, gabi, was upon them and he threatened to kill both her and falco, the young eldian boy with her. after a dramatic episode with sasha’s adopted little sister, the little girl she saved from a titan, you, armin and mikasa take gabi to a separate room. you have a small talk, only to see your beloved walk in, with a threat. but to see eren again made your stomach flutter with butterflies. god you can’t get over how hot he looks.

he tells you to leave, he needs to talk to armin and mikasa by themselves. as he sends you out, there's a soldier who leads you into another room. you assume eren told him to lead you into another room. you take off your green military jacket, leaving you in your normal day outfit. after a bit, eren walks in. you blush, because god damn he’s so hot.

“....”

“... why are you so quiet?” eren asks.

“i-i don’t.. i don’t know. everything that’s happening, it’s just. so confusing…”

“thought you wanted me to bend you over? is that not what you said?”

you look up immediately in shock, “eh?”

eren smirks, “ eh? ” he mocks you, “i said, i thought you wanted me to-”

“i heard you the first time.. seriously, eren? right now? i don’t think this is the right time to-”

“baby, i’m joking. well, not really. i kind of was hoping we would do something here, but you obviously don’t and i am not going to force you,” he sighs, “can we just… hold hands and sit in silence? everything is stressing me out and i don’t know what to do with you.”

“what to do with me..?”

“shh, just hold my hands and shut up.”

…

“eren jaeger, i know you did not just tell me to-”

“y/n l/n.”

you immediately shut up, knowing you hate when he uses your first and last name. you look away and he reaches forward and places his hands out in front of him, on the table.

“hands.”

you hold his hands, fingers interlocked, and look into his eyes. those teal eyes… you could stare into them forever. you sit in silence for about five minutes.

“y/n.”

you hum in response.

“do you love me?”

“more than life itself.”

“... okay.”

they sit in silence once again.

“eren…”

“yes, my love?”

“.... can we… um…”

“hm? use your words, baby.”

ugh, you hate it when his pet names make you melt. and the way he uses them? UGH he just makes you want to just sit there and obey him forever if it meant him calling you baby. you started to blush and squirm in the chair. eren smirks and chuckles.

“is something wrong, baby? do you… need some release? you look like a pathetic whore in heat.”

you look at him with widened eyes. you’ve never heard eren speak like this to you before, but you.. kinda like it. like, you and eren haven’t even done sexual things so for you both to say dirty things, let alone imply sexual activities towards each other, was new. and well, it seems like that's going to change. eren leans forward with his body, taking back his hands and putting one on the table and one to grip your chin towards him.

“ are you going to fucking answer me? ”

“i-i.. i, um-”

“god, you can’t even speak. you’re so awestruck by the way i’m treating you? it was bound to happen sometime, all you do is cry about how much you love me. it’s annoying. i’m surprised you aren’t a jaegerist, on your knees kissing my shoes. begging for me to fuck the shit out of you. huh? is that what you want? for me to fuck the shit out of you? HUH? answer me, you fucking whore! ” eren slaps your face with the hand that gripped your chin, and he grips it again. he force opens your mouth and he spits in it, “ swallow it. ”

“y-yes sir,” are the only words that could come out, and it boosted his ego and the tent in his pants you didn’t notice until now started to show more. you swallowed the liquid he spit into your mouth and stared into his beautiful teal eyes. you know this is just foreplay, he’s not genuinely angry with you. because his eyes never changed. this is the love of your life… he wouldn’t hurt you. you know he wouldn’t hurt you. you open your mouth to show him you swallowed it and he chuckles.

“ good. ” he lets go of your jaw and pats your head. he looks you in the eye and smiles. a genuine loving smile. he speaks again, “are you okay with this? with what i'm doing?”

you nod, giving a smile back. “i feel amazing, eren. are we… are we gonna, y’know…”

“hm? what did i say about using your words?”

you groan and look away from his eyes. “are we, no, are you actually going to bend me over and do nasty things to me?”

“do you want me to?”

“…yes.”

eren smirks and chuckles. “your wish will be my command.”

on an instant, eren grabs your arm and yanks you over the table. he walks to where you were just standing, and then he drags you by your hair to get off the table. he forces you on the floor, on your two knees to face towards him and his bulge that was being held in his dark pants, screaming to come out. he leans against the table.

“well? what are you waiting for? i’m not helping you. you’re on your own.”

you roll your eyes and you feel like you just know what you’re supposed to do. your hands make way to his pants, unbuttoning it immediately. you pull his pants down to his ankles, and start to rub his bulge. eren sucks in a breath, leaning his head back. he’s getting impatient, he actually can’t wait. he pulls his underwear down, his girthy member slapping against his stomach. he backs up to sit on a chair and spreads his legs apart for you. you stare at him with a flushed face and widened eyes. because it’s your guy’s first time doing anything like this, he smirks and starts pumping his member. pre-cum leaking out. he bites his lip, tilts his head back and lets out a low moan.

“y/n. start. i’m not doing everything for you from here on. suck it.”

you stare at his member, not in fear because your beloved’s cock is big, but in shock. will i… will i be able to fit this in my mouth? let alone.. inSIDE of me?? you lean forward, trying not to let him wait any longer. you lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip, earning a strangled moan from eren. he doesn’t want to pull your hair yet, so he just keeps caressing his thighs. you lick it some more, and then you finally stick him inside your mouth, and he instantly thrusts into your mouth. you let out a choke and pull off to cough. he opens his eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, stroking it.

“i’m sorry baby, i-it was an instant reaction. i’ll try not to do that until you’re ready. j-just.. keep going…”

you nod your head after coughing, letting your mouth right back onto his cock. you slowly start to bob your head, letting your tongue glide against the veins. trying not to bite, you start to bob your head quicker. you use your hand for whatever you can't reach and you just do this for a few minutes. eren’s legs start to shake. you lick his tip a few times, and eren’s hands go to your hair, pushing your head down a little further. he’s close. you can’t tell, but he knows he is. he thrusts up into your mouth, making you gag but you also moan, because fuck it feels so good. the vibrations from your noises trigger him, and he thrusts up more.

“f-fuck, y/n… i’m… i-i’m coming-!”

he pushes your head down all the way, your nose touching his skin. you’re gagging as thick liquid spurts up into your throat, making you gag just a bit more. your eyes tear up from the pain in your mouth, but your body feels tingly, on the verge of an orgasm. eren pulls out of your mouth while breathing heavy. you pull back with lust-filled eyes and you know you’re dying to have him inside you now. you open your mouth to show him his cum on your tongue, then you swallow that and show him your tongue once more. he blushes and giggles, looking away from your face. if he looks again, he might cum again, he doesn’t want to. not yet.

“e-eren… i need you… please, eren.”

eren looks at you and chuckles, “fuck… get on the table. i can’t hold back any longer.”

eren helps you up and sets you on the table in front of you both. he pulls off every piece of clothing you had on, your shirt your undershirt, your pants and your underwear, all at once. he refuses to wait. he needs to be in you now. he looks at your wet folds, he knows you were on the verge of cumming. he gives one long lick against you, and you bite your lip, twitching your legs and holding in your moans. he gets up and puts both arms on either side of your head. his member sliding against your folds.

“oh no no no, you are not going to hold back. i want everyone to know who is getting fucked and by who. i want everyone to know my partner of four years is a whore, a slut for my dick. that they’d do anything just to have eren jaeger’s cock in their mouth, in their beautiful pussy. yeah? are you my little cockwhore?”

“yes sir! i’m your little cockwhore, your little slut. please ‘ren, i want you.. no, i need you!!”

“god, baby. say it again, one more time baby..”

“EREN.”

“oh my god, babe. JUST DO IT!”

you both giggle as if there aren’t soldiers threatening your friends and comrades outside that door. eren looks at you with a genuine smile, and he mumbles “please, baby.”

“... i’m your little cockwhore, ‘ren. your little slutty cockwhore.”

“yeah? who’s pussy is this? huh? who’s pussy am i about to fuck?”

“... mine?”

eren lifts an arm and smacks your face, gripping your chin tightly. “try again.”

“y-yours…”

“what was that?”

“it’s yours…”

“what’s mine? didn’t your mother teach you how to speak? what. is. mine?” he uses that hand that gripped your chin to slap his cock against your throbbing area, sliding his cock between your folds.

“this pussy is yours, eren! this virgin pussy is all yours, eren, now can you PLEASE - o-oh!”

eren laughs as he just slides his member inside of you, slowly. it’s both of your first times, but it feels like it’s not. your cunt is so tight, but it feels as though it’s been used so many times. he gets in all the way, and you reach over to grip his man bun. you pull it out of its hair tie because you didn’t want to bother working with it later. he stays in, waiting for you to give him the go. you clench yourself around him, and considering the fact you were on the brink of orgasm when you were sucking him off, you actually orgasm right then and there. you clench around him tightly, moaning and gripping his long hair. he puts his hand back down next to your head.

“y-y/n?!”

“eren! o-oh fuck… -i-i’m sorry… i was on t-the brink of coming, i’m sorry-! EREN!”

he starts to thrust in, using your juices as lubricant and he just goes for it. fuck waiting, you already came. and he was going to make sure you get another orgasm. he wants his baby to be spoiled with his cum. he thrusts in and out, seeing his cock become visible and invisible. you moan, scream, every verb in the dictionary. you move your hands from his hair to his back and chest, leaving marks all over. eren grunts, feelings so good from your nails scratching him. oh god, his baby is making him feel so good. and he know he’s making his baby feel so good too, it’s very well shown on your face. he keep thrusting until he hits the spot to make you wild.

“EREN! oh my god, please eren, i’m so close, please please! please treat me like your little whore! you’re hitting the spot i never knew existed, please don’t stop!”

“you want it? you want me to fuck a baby into you? hm? want your sadistic boyfriend to breed you?”

god, you were losing it. eren grabs your body, he keeps his dick inside and he pulls you down to the chair with him. he wants you to ride him. and god, it’s a new sensation. you feel like you’re seeing god when you ride him. you hop on his lap, and he holds on to your waist while fucking up into you. you stare into his beautiful blueish green eyes. you wrap one arm around his neck and the other to his cheek and you kiss him. he, of course, kisses back. he helps you hop on him while holding your waist. everything feels so good.

“eren… i’m close again..” you mumble to the boy.

“i know , baby, i am too. i am too.”

he leaves marks all over your chest, just as you left nail marks on his back. you guys just sit like this, you keep riding him until you both are on the verge of another orgasm. he holds you against him, fucking into you so quick and fast and it just keeps hitting your walls. you’re both about to orgasm.

“eren! i’m gonna come, i-i’m-”

“let it out baby, i wanna hear you. i want everyone to hear you! please baby, i love you!”

“eren! i’m- f-fuck.. i love you, eren!”

after you both orgasm for a second time, you both sit there. enjoying each other's hot air, finishing off the post orgasm and intimate moment together. you both stare into each other's eyes, sharing the bonding moment. you both smile at each other, and you nuzzle into his neck. you love eren, you loved him so much. you can’t picture your future without him. he helps you up and he sets you back on the table. he looks around the entire room searching for wipes or paper towels. fortunately, he finds paper towels and cleans your private areas off. he’s beyond happy to have shared such a moment with you, finally. he gives you a deep kiss. he loves you so much. he would love to picture himself in your future.

but,

he wasn’t in it.

2 years have passed since the rumbling.

you miss him.

you miss eren so much.

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cafedanslanuit · 3 years

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✖ — chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.

✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖ — chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating.

✖ — a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3

chapter three: me and my husband

Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.

He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.

Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.

He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.

He had really fucked it up.

…

Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.

This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.

Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.

That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?

Your head started hurting.

Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.

He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.

Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.

Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.

“wanna hang out later? <3”

You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.

“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“

He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.

“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”

“<3”

You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.

Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.

Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.

“I fucking hate her.”

You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.

“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.

“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.

“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”

“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected.

“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”

“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”

“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”

“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”

“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.

Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.

“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.

“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.

“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”

Pieck’s silence was deafening.

“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”

“Yelena is bisexual.”

You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

“She’s not.”

“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.

“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”

“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”

“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”

“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.

“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.

“Porco?”

“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.

Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.

You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—

No.

“Give me a date,” you whispered.

“What?”

“When was this?”

“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”

“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”

“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”

“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.

You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.

“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.

00:36

lena where are u

?????

why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn

yelena answer me

fuck u i’m going there

01:19

FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST

PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET

REALLY???? ZEKE?????

HOPE YOU GET HERPES

I FUCKING HATE YOU

babe, i’m sorry

can we talk?

A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.

You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.

07:23

Good morning! I know it’s really early

But I want to see you today <3

Meet me at the tennis court?

sure, i’ll take an uber :)

Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.

But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—

Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.

With the very same date.

And Yelena admitting her crime.

But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—

Had he not kissed her?

Was it only a movie night?

…

No, it hadn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.

Why didn’t it make a sound?

Why were your fingers numb?

You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.

As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.

“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”

“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.

“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”

“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please, please tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”

“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”

The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’

Make it stop.

It’s a lie.

Make it stop.

He lied to you.

Stop.

He fucked her.

Please, stop.

He lied.

I can’t breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

…

When you woke up, Porco was there.

Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.

He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.

None.

“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”

Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.

“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.

“I broke my phone.”

Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”

He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.

“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”

Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need him —

Instead, he nodded.

“What happened?” you asked.

Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”

“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?

“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.

In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.

“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”

You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”

“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.

“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.

What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?

In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.

Right. Zeke.

You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.

Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.

You were miserable.

“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.

“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”

Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.

He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you.

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”

“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.

“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”

At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.

“You’re so fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.

You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once more.

Maybe that had been his power all along.

#porco x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco x you #porco galliard x you #porco galliard angst #porco galliard fluff #porco angst #porco fluff #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x reade #zeke x you #zeke jaeger x you #zeke jaeger #zeke angst

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

let me down slow (02)

word count; 9652

summary; stiles once again ditches you, and mitch ditches his own plans to cheer you up.

notes; y’all had such amazing reactions to the first part, you picked up one every tiny little detail about their relationship that I put in, so I really hope you enjoy this part, and all the little things that make them up, too!

warnings; smut, thigh-riding, dry humping, slight spit play, that’s about it.

In a bid to make up for the failed movie night last Friday, Stiles had absolutely promised to be there for this week’s. In a bid to ensure you believed him, he’d offered to buy the pizza himself this time, and was even letting you choose what it was that you both had. He’d loaded up movies and set up drinks and even dragged down the spare blankets and cushions from the upstairs cupboard to make the couch look more like a pit of pure comfort than a couch.

It was impressive, actually, and he had sent you a series of pictures as he constructed it, promising that he was here to stay with you, his pyjama pants already on, and a raggy old shirt that he wouldn't dare go out in, and so you were making your way up the front-drive eagerly once again, the door flying open before you’d even had to knock.

He was beaming at you, flannel flapping around him as he reached out to pull you into him, arms around your shoulders to squeeze you into his body and crush the air right out of your lungs in a breathless laugh as you hugged him back. Your arms circled his waist, hugging him just as tightly, before poking lightly at his sides in the spots that you knew he was ticklish in, making him yelp and try and jerk away from you, glaring falsely as you finally released him. Kicking the door shut behind yourself, you hung up the light coat you’d wrapped yourself in up in on the hooks fastened to the wall, kicking off your shoes and following him through into the rest of the house.

He was practically bouncing with each step, spilling over with information about the movies he'd chosen, and speaking even faster than usual as he guided you through to the kitchen to hand you his phone, the pizza ordering app already pulled up on the screen, and Mitch was lurking around behind the counter, the fridge door open as he shuffled through the contents, leaning around the door and offering you a smile as he saw you. Stepping out and bringing the butter with him, he dropped it down onto the counter beside whatever it was he was going to make, pulling his phone from his back pocket and bringing up a recipe.

The room looked even better in person, the lights had all been flicked off to give the large flatscreen a cinema-style appearance, drinking glasses and bottles of pop sitting out in preparation, condensation forming on the bottles from the coolness within, and a stack of movies beside the TV that the pair of you had spent all week choosing for this event.

The boy at your side was talking your ear off, and you slowly constructed an online shopping basket full of food that you could share between the two of you; stuffing yourselves full of the greasy fast food while hanging out with your best friend was exactly how everyone should spend their Friday nights, in your opinion.

You had even worn your comfiest clothes, an old pair of black legging and the biggest jumper you had, your face clear of makeup and a scrunchie on your wrist in case you decided to tie it up later, most likely when the food arrived. You handed the device back to Stiles so that he could make his own food choices, the boy following you through to the living room as you poured yourself a drink, his fingers tapping against his thigh and his teeth biting at his lower lip, and you watched him with a raised brow, but he was either ignoring your stare or he didn’t notice it, because he purposefully avoided your gaze.

“Why are you so jittery, Sti? Did you take your Adderall today?”

“Yes, I took my Adderall today, thank you very much.” He stuck his tongue out at you playfully, the scowl on his face having no heat to it as he moved past you to make his own drink, and he was twitching so much he could barely hold the bottle still. “I’m just excited.”

“For movie night?”

“Yes, for movie night.” He confirmed, but avoided your eye, and you let out a sigh, glancing up through the open doorway to try and catch Mitch’s eye, but he was also ensuring he wasn’t looking at you, busing himself with cutting overly precise cubes of butter and dropping them into the pan over the hob.

“No, you’re never this weird about movie night. You’re all anxious, I can practically smell it.” You took a seat beside him, his body facing the TV as yours faced him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, lips flicking up in a small smile. “Just tell me what’s up, we can figure it out together.”

“Nothing! I promise nothing is up. Nothing that needs figuring out, or anything like that. Y’know, just got a call before but it’s totally fine now, nothing bad! I can turn my phone off and we can watch movies and we will have an awesome night! Promise!” His words spilt out from his mouth so quickly that you didn’t even have a chance to properly process them, but you caught a few keywords, enough to make your heart sink in your chest as you leaned back into the cushions, and the roles were reversed.

Now, you were avoiding his eye, and he was trying his best to reassure you that it was okay, but everything about his twitchy behaviour and erratically strung together sentences let you know that it was not okay. “Who called, Stiles?”

“Nobody important.”

“Who?”

He sighed, and you finally met his gaze, a slightly saddened look on his face as he shrugged a little. “Lyds.”

You felt your heart clench a little in your chest, but offered him a little smile instead, shrugging your shoulders. “What did she need?”

“She had an argument with Jackson, and wanted some company and someone to talk to, but I told her I was busy tonight, and that I’d call her back later, or tomorrow morning, so don’t even worry about it, w-”

“You should go.” With a sigh, you cut him off, placing your hand over the top of his and squeezing in comfort, both for him and yourself.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she needs you more than I do. We’ll do a movie night another night, or whatever.” You waved your hand, dismissing it like it wasn’t crushing you to say the words to him, and like it didn’t break you a little more at the way his face lit up like he’d felt trapped being here with you, like he was gaining freedom. “You should totally go, it’s fine.”

He jumped up to his feet, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, mumbling his ‘thank-yous’ under his breath as he wiped sweaty palms on his pyjama bottoms, before looking down at himself and racing away upstairs to get changed. Your body slumped down into the couch, and the shuffling behind you caught your attention, your head turning so that you could look at the man who was leaning against the post in the doorway, a look on his face that you couldn't decipher.

“Why did you do that?” He nodded his head towards the stairs his brother had disappeared up only seconds prior, the familiar crashes and thumps of his presence sounding out as you shrugged.

“I want him to want to be here with me. You should have seen how much happier he looked when I told him he could go. I didn’t want him to have to stay when he’d rather be somewhere else.” You stood up yourself, wrapping your arms a little tighter around yourself as he came back down the stairs. He had a more presentable outfit on, the usual khakis and flannel shirt buttoned up, running a hand through his hair as the other jingled his car keys.

“You’re the best, thank you so much.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, before making his way to the front door in a dizzying flurry of movement. “We will have a movie night, I promise!”

With that, the door was slamming shut, the jeep starting up only seconds later, and you gaped at the spot he’d been in, leaving you in a tense silence with Mitch, who shuffled from one foot to the other, before his eyes finally met yours. You gave him a watery smile, feeling the tears well up in your eyes, and his whole body seemed to deflate, before he was crossing the room and pulling you into his arms before the first cry had even left your mouth, muffling it as he let you press your face into his shoulder.

One of his hands came up to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair to rub the pads over your scalp soothingly, his cheek pressing to the top of your head as the other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you to him as tightly as he possibly could with your hands crushed between your bodies, your fingers gripping at the cotton of his shirt and your eyes squeezing shut, your body shaking with each wracking sob you tried to suppress. He shushed you quietly, rubbing his hand up and down you back carefully and playing with your hair, distracting you enough for you to calm the shaking of your body and the racing of your heart.

“He didn’t even offer me a ride home!”

“I know, kitten.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, shifting you when your knees buckled a little, letting you lean on him further, his hand slipping down to grip at your hips and take the weight of your body to keep you standing.

“He didn’t care! He was gone so fast, he didn’t even ask me what I was going to do! He didn’t even try and fight it, or insist he should stay! He just.. just left!” It only made you cry harder, pressing into him further and shifting to press your face into his neck, that patch of his shirt damp from your tears, but you smoothed out your fingers until your hands were sitting flat on his chest, using the steady thump of his own heart under your hand to calm yourself.

“I know, I know.” He mumbled, shushing you lowly on a hum, and holding you without question until you detached yourself from him.

Your cheeks were stinging and sore, eyes red and throat raw, but he just cupped your face, smoothing his thumbs over the irritated and splotchy patches. You felt weak, your body felt like it was sagging in on itself, and so you stepped away, wiping at your eyes and sitting back down on the couch, laying out along the length of it and letting out a long and slow sigh. He moved across the room, inspecting the DVD stack you’d built with your friend.

“You know, I for one have never seen-” He picked up the one on the top, his face scrunching up a little as he looked at it, before giving you a deadpan look with a hint of amusement, and dropping it back into the stack. “I have seen Star Wars, it would be impossible not to, being related to Stiles.”

He shuffled through them, grinning up at you when he heard you let out a soft laugh at his words, winking in your direction. “I think Batman is in there, too, and one of the Avenges movies.”

“Well, I’ve seen all of those, but I will happily rewatch them with you.” He came to stand beside you, and you propped yourself up on your hands, hopefulness once again flooding your veins as he spoke. “Or we can just go on Netflix, and find something neither of us has ever seen before.”

“Are you asking me if I want to Netflix and chill with you, Mitch?”

He smirked at your words, leaning in close enough for you to press your foreheads together, a darker chuckle sounding from him. “We can get to that later, kitten.” His lips brushed the tip of your nose as he pulled back. “You were promised a movie night, and you’re gonna’ get one. I made some popcorn, and we can eat all the snacks Stiles bought as revenge. Sound good?”

“Sounds really good, actually.” You watched him for a second, searching his eyes and his face for a sign that he was going to leave you too, like he was going to ditch you just as Stiles had, but he held his hands out to you to pull you back up to your feet. “You don’t have anything else to do on a Friday night?”

“I was going to facetime some friends from college later, but nothing important, no. Besides, a movie night would be fun, it’s been a while since I had time to binge-watch anything, and I have a few series’ in mind that we could try.” He inched the pair of you to the kitchen, nodding his head in the direction of the pan on the stove. “Why don’t you get our popcorn sorted and load up whatever you want to watch, and I’ll go put something more comfortable than jeans on, and we can watch?”

“Cool.”

He shook his head, a fond laugh forming on his lips as he watched you back away from him, before you were spinning on your heel, and listening to him set off up the stairs, searching the cupboards for a bowl big enough to put it all in. Locating the blue patterned one at the very back, you produced it with a proud huff and removed the cover from the pan, salty and buttery steam filling up into the air as you tipped the heated kernels into the dish.

Taking it with you, you set off into the living room, bringing a spare glass for Mitch to use and swapping it with the still full and fizzing drink Stiles had made for himself, rolling your eyes at the waste as it was tipped down the sink and left abandoned in the kitchen. You had barely finished it all up before the man was padding back into the room, heat crawling at your cheeks as you looked at him, scoffing a little under your breath.

“You don’t have a shirt on.”

“Is that a problem?” He was offering you a smirk like he already knew the answer to your question, and so you didn’t bother replying. Mitch collapsed back on the couch, stretched out along the entire length as you grabbed the remotes, turning on the TV, and perching yourself on the edge of the cushion mound that Stiles had built for the night as you waited for the device to power up so you could log into the app. “Are you going to sit down there all night? ‘Cause you’re blocking half the screen.”

He had the bowl of popcorn tucked under his arm when you turned to glare at him, and he was half laying down, half sitting up, but smirking widely and pushing a handful of the salty treat into his mouth, and you made your way over to him, settling comfortably into his warmth, and sitting up with your legs crossed, sorting through the accounts to select Mitch’s, and he hummed happily as you did, chewing his food and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You were adjusted, pulled back into his body as he moved the bowl to sit in front of you, and you scrolled through the things he had added to his list as he moved behind you, pouring himself a drink and moving both yours and his to within reaching distance of your position, pulling the snacks over too and setting them up around you bodies until it was a clear little space that the two of you were inhabiting, everything within arms reach.

“You want to watch That 70’s Show?”

“Yeah, thought it looked pretty funny but Katrina didn’t want to, so we watched some British thing instead.” You hummed clicking it open and snuggling down a little, getting yourself comfortable and reaching for the popcorn.

“It's fucking hilarious, you’re going to love it.”

It took you two whole episodes for you to finish your snacks, and a third for you to actually start feeling better. Cuddling wasn’t exactly something you were used to. Sure, you had very tactile friends, but cuddling was new to you. Mitch seemed entirely settled with it, he hadn't shifted once, his arm slung over your waist and his chin sitting on your shoulder as he watched the screen, and yet he only ever smirked at your mumbled apologies each time you shifted, or needed to change positions, and he happily obliged, lifting his arm for you to move before settling down.

The popcorn bowl was empty, and so were all the snack wrappers, and the bottles of pop were on their way out too, and by the end of the fourth little episode, you were beginning to feel better. There was just something about Michael Kelso’s innate and adorable stupidity that lifted your mood no matter what.

You were actually comfortable now, and feeling more settled, your back pressed up to his chest and the warmth of his body washing over you, his fingers resting on your stomach, drawing patterns absentmindedly, and you were certain that if you were allowed to cuddle with your fuck buddy, then you could hold his hand. Settling your hand over the top of his, his motions paused for a second, before he was lifting his hand out from under your own and you panicked for a moment, stiffening only slightly, before his hand closed over the top of yours and laced your fingers together, thumb rubbing at your hand as he snorted at yet another joke on-screen.

“Have you ever got high?”

He twisted to look at you, letting you roll onto your back to peer up at him, your connected hands now sitting up above you as your fingers played together, and his brows raised a little, your attention on the screen gone as you focused on one another instead, leaving the gang to smoke in Eric Foreman's basement. “Yeah.”

“Really?”

His neutral expression pulled up into a sly grin, his teeth flashed to you as he nodded, licking over his lips. “Yeah, kind of like a college rite of passage, I guess. I’m not really a fan, I don’t like how it makes me feel afterwards.”

“What’s it like?”

He shrugged, moving to lean over you a little, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times as he tried to work out how to answer you. “It’s different for everyone, I think, but for me I didn’t really feel all that different when I smoked, just more relaxed, I guess? But when I came down, I always really hit rock bottom. Just got depressed, and started overthinking and feeling shitty, so I’d throw myself into my studies and workout for a couple of hours to try and make that feeling go away, which meant I had a headache and I was all sore in the morning, and tired as fuck, and I still felt like shit.”

“That sounds like it fucking sucks.”

“Eh, everyone is different.” He lay down a little more, taking his hand from your own when you rolled over to face him, and he settled it back over your waist, his hand sitting on your lower back now. “I think it would work for some people, like Stiles, for example. He'd probably do great from it, but there’s no way anyone around here is going to sell weed to the Sheriff’s kid, so he would have to wait to get to college.”

You snorted, thinking about your best friend being stoned out of his head, and still being the same clumsy mess he was now.

“What makes you ask?”

“Nothing really, I was just thinking about it because it was on the screen.” You glanced back to the screen, watching for a second as a few of the characters moved around, and you tried to pick back up on the plot you’d missed, your lips flicking up at the sides with one of the jokes, but you inevitably felt your gaze going back to Mitch. His eyes were glued on the screen once again, the reflections in the dark making the honey brown colour look as though it was speckled with red, blues, and greens, all the colours that came up.

He was similar in his looks to his brother, the moles and the cute nose and the eyes, but he was also entirely different in a way that made them seem like opposites. Mitch had longer hair, in a style that you knew would look wrong on Stiles but just looked so right on him, and he had a jaw covered in dark smatterings of stubble that were fully formed, not patchy and childlike but thick and grown, and his features were sharper.

The stress of being the eldest son of the sheriff, and watching his mother die, and trying to care for a hyperactive nuisance like Stiles during his teenage years had taken a toll on him, but he was only twenty and already seemed like he’d seen and experienced everything there was in the world, and he wore that knowledge and wisdom like a crown.

“Stop staring at me, you weirdo.”

You scoffed out a little laugh under your breath, and he glanced down at you as you rested a hand on his cheek, pulling his attention away from the screen and down to you as his mouth slotted against your own with perfect accuracy. His fingers tightened on your waist as he sighed into your mouth, pressing his lips to yours in slow movements that were just as relaxed as you were finally feeling.

There was no rush, or tension, and you certainly didn’t feel the need to speed anything along. Stiles would be out for hours yet with Lydia, and the sheriff was on yet another night shift, and so you didn’t have to feel anything but pure bliss as Mitch rolled you both onto your sides, pulling one of your legs up onto his hips as you settled one hand on his shoulder and the other into his hair, nails scraping at his scalp the same soothing way he’d done for you only a couple of hours prior.

You could feel the press of his stubble into your skin, and the slight roughness of his lips against your smooth ones, and the way your skin tingled each time he tipped his head and moved his mouth in a different direction, the drag of his lips against yours in an entirely new way sending sparks along your body. Wrapping a foot around his leg, you pulled your body in a little closer to him, the arm that had been sitting on your waist was slipping down further and further, until he was taking a handful of your ass and squeezing so roughly you let out a sound between a squeak and a moan into his mouth.

You felt the way he reacted to the sound, the way he pushed in a little closer to you, and took the chance at the parting of your lips to deepen the kisses, your tongues tangling as innocent kisses became a needy makeout, your fingers tightening into fistfuls of his hair instead of soothing through the locks, your hips rolling in time or meet his as you ground down onto his thigh when he lifted it to press better between your legs.

Your calm heart rate had shot through the roof, each time you pulled back from desperate breaths before you were diving back into one another's mouths, tongues tangling visibly between your mouths as he growled a little every time you pressed further into him, and you whimpered each time he tilted his leg a little, sending a burst of energy and pleasure along your nerves, until you could feel it all the way in the tips of your fingers and toes.

When the burn for oxygen between gasping breaths became too much, you pulled back, biting on your slightly swollen lower lip as you rocked your body down against his leg, the tent in his pants pressing into your hips each time he moved, and you felt like the heat in the room was getting way too high to be allowed, choosing instead to push him back until he was laying on his back, his eyes wide as he watched you move, peeling your jumper up over your head and throwing it away to the side, taking a seat across his lap instead of thigh. Pressing your core down against his, the layers of fabric did nothing to dull the pleasure either of you felt from the pressure, sounds of bliss let out in unison, harmonising in the air.

“Fuck, kitten.”

You grinned, thriving on the fact that you could make the man below you feel so good, and you reached behind yourself to unclip the loose bra you’d put on, tossing that away too. You felt yourself shake, a tremor running along your spine from the look he gave you as your breasts fell free before his eyes, and the thought flashed across your mind that this was the first time he’d ever actually seen your tits, without a shirt or bra in the way.

Propping himself up on his hands, he dipped his head to take one of your nipples between his lips, holding himself firm as you rocked your bodies together, grinding yourself down onto his cock as he grew to be solid beneath you. Your own hands were on his shoulders, one coming up to cup the back of his head as you sobbed out at the way his mouth felt as he lapped at your tits, sucking darkening marks into the plump flesh and teasing the taut buds with his tongue and teeth.

The electricity coursing through your body was delectable, and when he was satisfied that he’d left your chest in enough of a state, for now, he tipped his head up to find your lips once again.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Letting his body collapse back onto the couch, you followed after him, propping yourself up above him with hands on the cushions either side of his head, his legs coming up to bend behind you to give him the ability to raise his hips up to meet you with each thrust, and you whimpered as his covered cock collided with your clit perfectly each time. “Oh, fucking hell, Mitch!”

He grinned, his hands coming up to find your waist and guide you in rotating your hips each time he pushed up into you, the drag of material over you sodden core making a cry leave you as you shot over into a climax just from the stimulation, and he continued to ride you through it, until you were spent and trembling above him, and his legs dropped down as he allowed you to fall into his lap, hands bunched up in the blankets beside his body as you came down from your high.

“You know, it occurs to me, you’re too old to be dry humping on a couch like a highschooler. I can get away with it for another few weeks, at least until graduation.”

You were breathless and your voice was unsteady, but he caught your words and let out a laugh upon processing them, his eyes sparkling as you looked up to him, and he shook his head fondly, leaning up to press a kiss to your lips. You returned it, pressing a few pecks to his lips, before pushing yourself up on shaky arms, and letting out a yelp when you accidentally dragged you overstimulated clit across his still prominent erection, which earned you a cheeky smirk from the man below you as he folded his arms under his head, making his arms and chest flex as a by-product.

Your mouth went dry at the sight, and you ran your fingers lightly over the prominent veins in his forearms, all the way up to where they disappeared at his biceps, before you were travelling along to his chest, digging your nails in a little, and he hissed at the contact, biting down on his lip, the honey colour switching to a darker whiskey shade, pupils widening, and the background noise around you both faded away leaving just the two of you there, in your own little world. “I want to try something.”

“Oh, you do?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes a little, his hands smoothing along your arms to sit on your wrist, wrapping around them gently as he urged you on. “What might that be?”

“I want to suck your cock.”

The breath was forced from his lungs as he stared up at you, wide eyes and parted lips, before he was letting out a string of curses under his breath. “You’ve never done that before?”

“My experiences before you are limited to pretty much how our first time went.”

“Sloppy, drunk sex that was pretty subpar, all things considered?” You nodded in response, and he hummed under his breath. He seemed to be thinking about it for a minute, his brows furrowing, before he was bringing up a hand to cup your jaw and running his thumb over your lips, slipping it into your mouth carefully and letting you suck on the digit as he mulled it over. “I got off the other night just thinking about fucking your pretty little mouth, you know.”

“You did?”

Your words were muffled around the finger in your mouth, and he pressed the pad of his thumb into you tongue a little, you lips sealing around the digits once again, sucking it lightly and swirling the wet article to soak his skin, lapping and teasing as his eyes glossed over and went half-lidded. “Yeah, I did. You want me to tell you about it?”

You nodded around the digit, and he grinned up at you lazily, pulling out his thumb, and replacing it with two long fingers instead, letting out a deep sound of satisfaction when you took them both without complaint.

“I was thinking about your lips, and your eyes. You have this cute little innocent look in your eyes but I get to know that you have a dirty mouth. I thought about you licking at my cock, before taking it all.” You squeezed your legs a little around him on an instinctual wish to clamp your thighs together, and his other hand came to sit on your thigh, squeezing it roughly as he acknowledged the effect his words had on you. “Thought about letting you choke on my cock, until there were tears in your eyes, and you were swallowing everything I gave you, like the good girl I know you can be. You’d be good for me, wouldn't you, kitten?”

He pulled out wet fingers from your mouth, and you took a raspy breath, strings of saliva snapping as he pulled the digits away from your mouth, and you nodded at him, leaning down closer to him, pressing kisses to his lips and cheeks, along his jaw until you were sucking at the base of his neck, and he was stretching his head back for you. “I’d be so good for you, I promise.”

“I know you would.” He stretched the skin out a little further, and you licked at the patch you’d been working on, the salty taste of his skin much like that of the popcorn taste that had lingered in his mouth during your kisses, and you sealed your lips around that particular spot, teasing it with your lips and teeth. “You can leave a mark, I don’t mind. Mark me as yours, kitten, that’s okay.”

You let out a muffled sound against his skin as he gave you permission for the action you’d been so wanting to complete, and he let out a shaky breath as you worked until the skin was flourishing with angry red and splotching with hints of a darker colour already.

“Gonna’ suck my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.. yeah I am.” You whispered, pressing wet kisses along his skin as you lower yourself down along his body, the same way he had done when he’d gone down on you a few days before, and he shuffled his hips up when you tapped at his hips, the pants already sitting low were tugged down to his thighs swiftly, taking his boxers too, and his cock sprang up before your face, dribbling precum in shiny trails along his throbbing flesh, a breathy noise leaving him as he was freed from the confines of his underwear.

One hand came down to lace into your hair, quickly followed by the second as he pulled the strands up and into a makeshift ponytail, trying to let you take it at your own pace, despite the way his thighs and fingers were twitching to take control. You pulled back, just enough to reach your wrist to try and find your scrunchie, but found both arms bare, and the feel of fabric weaving into your hair, Mitch navigating the bundle easily into the elastic, and you gaped at his dark smirk, never even having known when he’d taken the item from you.

“Damn, Mitch..”

“I’m smooth like that.” He replied on a mumble, voice shaking just a little, before his eyes were fluttering shut, his head resting back in the pillows of the couch behind him. Leaning in, you dragged your tongue along his length, lapping at the head and clearing the arousal that had already gathered at the tip, and he gripped at the bundle of hair he had created, letting out a deep and throaty sound that vaguely resembled your name as you sealed your lips around his tip.

His thighs clenched, body shaking a little as you shifted, giving yourself a moment to grow accustomed to the heavy weight of his cock sitting on your tongue, before you were once again moving. He was holding himself back surprisingly well, fingers pulling at your hair as he began to guide your head in gentle bobs, praises falling from his lips under his breath, confirming you in your movements and giving you confidence in what you were doing.

Hollowing your cheeks a little, he released one hand from your head, throwing it up to grip the cushion beside his face with a cry, his entire body shaking as you sunk as far down as you could, before you were gagging, pulling back a little bit, not missing the high-pitched noise he made. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you found his head tipped back into the pillows, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. He looked incredible, red and swollen lips parted as he panted for breath, letting you take him apart with your mouth - even if you didn’t know what you were doing all that well - and his hips bucking occasionally to chase you when you pulled back to focus on his tip in a way that made his core clench so tight you could see the firmness of the rigid muscles underneath.

Pulling away from his cock, you use the slick mixture of spit and precum that was covering his skin to pump him quickly, and he fucked up into your hand, grunting each time you swiped your thumb under or across the head, finding all the sensitive patches that drove him wild. You were pressing kisses to him, sucking another hickie into the skin of his hip when he pulled you up, uncaring of the wet marks left on his skin as he used his tight grip on a handful of your hair to navigate you up until he could press his mouth to your own in a frenzied kiss.

It was a clash of tongues and teeth, and you were gasping into his mouth for air every time, it felt like every hot kiss he gave you was sucking the air straight from your lungs, you head spinning with the urgency of it as you pressed back into him, kissing him with everything you had until the two of you were forced apart, panting and pressing your foreheads together.

“What’s wrong? No good?”

“No, you were fucking incredible, sweetheart. If you didn’t stop, I definitely would have cum, and I would very much like to be inside of you when I cum tonight.” He nudged the tip of his nose against your own, smiling happily when you let out a sweet whisper of his name, before you were nodding, and pecking his lips a couple of times quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah, I do. I really do.”

“Mm, me too.” He pushed you up a little, the cool air sweeping in between you as your bodies separated momentarily like a refreshing wake up, your mind clearing a little, and you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV that had turned itself off due to inactivity a while ago, and you looked as thoroughly fucked up as he did, your lips twisting in a subtle grin at the sight of you both. “Condom. We need a condom.”

“Shit, right, want me to get it?”

“You remember where they are?” You nodded, hopping up from the couch as he grinned, placing a loud slap to your ass as you went, and you glowered over your shoulder.

“Stop slapping my ass every time I walk away from you!”

“Fine, I’ll start slapping your ass when you’re here.” He retorted, and you stuck your tongue out at him, rubbing lightly at the stinging patch as you made your way up the stairs, his laugh fading into the background. Reaching his room, you noted the way it was still clean and tidy, the same way it had been, the covers a little messy where he’d been sitting on them earlier, but still entirely neater and more coordinated than Stiles’. Opening the drawer, you tipped one out, swiping up the blue foil packet, before making you way back down to the man waiting for you.

He was pumping his cock slowly when you reached the room, pants discarded to leave him entirely naked. His head was tilted back to lay along the back of the couch, and he smirked at you, eyes locked with yours as he picked up the pace of his hand moving along his shaft, dragging his gaze along your body as you moved towards him, before fixing his sights on the way your tits bounced with each step.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Shut up, you sweet talker.” He simply flashed white teeth at you in a smile, reaching out for the packet in your hand and tearing the top off with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his length in a way that should not have been as attractive as it was, but maybe it wasn’t the action, but simply the man that had done it. Each time he moved his fist up or down his cock, his fingers would flex, his wrist moving and the veins in his arm standing out as his muscles flexed with the simple moves, and yet it had your mouth dry and mind empty just watching him.

“On your knees, hands on the back of the couch. You better hold on, kitten, because I want to hear you screaming my name, tonight.”

“Do you even hear yourself sometimes? Do you know how fucking hot you are, or does that just happen?” You muttered, shaking your head at him despite his smile, and you wiggled your leggings and panties down your legs, dropping them to the floor before passing him by to climb onto the couch.

“It just happens when I’m around pretty girls who are ready to fuck.” You didn’t bother responding, but leaned over a little more, shaking your ass at him in order to tempt him forwards after you’d parted your knees, and he ran two fingers through your folds teasingly, letting out a satisfied and aroused noise as he felt the wetness that had accumulated there. “Fuck, you’re dripping for me.”

“Yeah, well, it just happens when I’m around hot guys who are ready to fuck.”

Your retort was met with a loud slap to your ass, the skin flaming up with a delicious burn, a large hand soothing the mark as he dragged his teeth over your shoulder in a light bite, his hair tickling your cheek as you turned to look back at him. “I like it when you get a little bit sassy with me, kitten. Makes it so much more fun.”

“It would be even more fun if you were fucking me. Like, now.” You pleaded, being met with an equal spank on the other side, and you pushed back into the touch happily as the slight pain fuelled on your pleasure, feeling the head of his cock swirl through your wetness, gathering it up before he could line up at your core.

Taking your ponytail back in his hand, he pulled your head back, setting his other hand on your hip and slamming into you without hesitation, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cried out his name, shuddering all over at the feeling of suddenly being so full and stretched out once again.

“Fucking you was one of the best decisions I ever made, I swear to God..” You were barely even aware of the ramblings you were letting out as he laughed into your ear, beginning to set a steady and quick pace, each thrust seeming to hit deeper than the last. Within only minutes, you were reduced to a sobbing mess of curse words and his name, your entire body flushed with heat and your eyes flashing with colour as you tried to stay even somewhat sentient with the way he was sending you into the clouds.

His hips were colliding with you each time, your thighs up to your ass burning with each powerful collision, the sound of skin slapping again skin filling the room, and you parted your legs even further, allowing him to sink even deeper within you, making both of you shake and falter at the way it felt to entirely wrapped up in each other, everything else becoming irrelevant. Slipping his hands around to your front, he took your tits in each of a large palm, the rub of calloused hands against your nipples making every sound you made become illegible, a mess of mumbles and begs for only him to hear as he took you to places you never thought you’d get to experience.

You were squeezing him each time, clenching around his cock and drawing him back in, and despite the rubber between you, you could feel every throb he made within your walls, and every time he twitched when you rolled certain muscles focusing on the movements you could make that made his pace falter or a pornographic noise fall from him that drove you wild. You were pushing back to meet his thrusts, tears welling up in your eyes as he pushed against your g-spot with every movement, pressing the patch solidly, the head of his cock sliding over it on repeat each time and the stimulation was building up to be more than you could handle, but you were in far too deep to be able to back up, you didn’t want to, you just wanted to lose yourself in the way it felt to be with him.

“Can feel you, so tight and wet ‘round me. You’re perfect, fucking incredible. I need you to cum for me, okay? Need to feel you cum.”

You nodded, your voice to unreliable to even speak, but he pulled you up until your back was to his chest, the angle changing as you became even tighter around him and he hissed under his breath, hot breaths washing over your cheek with every pant he made, and you gripped at the hand that slipped up to sit around your neck, needing the support as the other went down to flick at the button between your legs in rough strokes that made your entire body jump and quiver at the stimulation, the screams he had wanted tearing from your lips as you crashed into a mindblowing orgasm, eyes lining with tears and voice cracking.

He followed behind you by only seconds, his body going rigid as he came, before he was collapsing over your back, trying to hold himself up with hands on the edge of the couch, before he was pulling out of you and letting the both of you collapse into a heap of sweaty and spent bodies on the couch. “Christ, that was fucking incredible.”

You threw a tired arm up over your face and hummed your agreement on a silent voice, wiping at the wetness that had come onto your cheeks once again, a tired smile on your face as you sniffed a little wiped your face clean, and you heard him shuffling around, pulling off the condom and wrapping it in a pile of tissues from the box, before he was leaning over you, nimble fingers pulling your hand for your eyes.

“Are you crying?”

“Guess you’re just that good.” You joked, and he used his own fingers to wipe away the tears, but you could see the pride that was filling him at the claim, his chest puffing up and his wide smirk widening, eyes sparkling with cheek.

“Well, I would definitely rather have you crying over my dick than over being ditched, so I think tonight was a huge success.”

You slapped an idle hand at his chest, leaving it laying there, too tired to move it as you rolled over and pressed yourself into his side, and he placed his hand on top of yours, letting you cuddle into the side of him and lifting his head so you could tuck your face into his neck. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

“I mean, it was really pretty great for us both, so no thanks neede-”

“No, I meant movie night. Thanks for hanging out with me. I knew it was going to end in sex anyway, but thanks for hanging out with me before that, it made me feel better. A little less lonely, y’know?” He squeezed you in silent acknowledgement, but never said anything in reply, and you weren’t sure whether your walls were down because you’d just had your brains fucked out, or whether it was simply how safe and assured you felt when with him, but you were opening your mouth and letting the words pour out before you even had a chance to stop them; “I feel lonely a lot, lately. It’s hard when all of your friends know about your feelings towards one of the others, and they know it’s never going to work out. I know it’s never going to work out, but it doesn’t stop it hurting, and I try not to hang out with Stiles and Lydia together a lot, but I can’t make them choose between me or them, that’s ridiculous, so I don’t see them as much anymore.”

He twisted to look at you, raising a hand to tuck some loose hair that had fallen from your ponytail away behind your ear, before nodding his head and swallowing thickly. “I came home from college because all my friends became friends with Katrina, and her friends, and it became too painful to see all of them when all they did was remind me of her, but now I feel alone.”

“I’ve never told anyone that before.” You confessed, and he smiled a little, his eyes sliding closed as he nodded, like the secret was kept between just the two of you, and you knew that was where it would stay.

“Neither have I.”

The moment was a little too heavy for you to handle without becoming overwhelmed, so you instead pressed yourself back into him, not having to look at the caring look in his eyes, instead just feeling the tentative way his hands smoothed up and down your body comfortingly, the heat in the room dissipating until you were beginning to feel the chill, despite the furnace of a human being pressed up along the length of you. You were just about to move and grab your clothes again when he spoke again;

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”

“What?” He shrugged as you sat up, stretching yourself out and searching around for your bra, finding it and pulling it on, clipping it behind your back and adjusting it on your chest as you stared at him inquisitively.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I figured I’d drive you home, but we could go to In-N-Out or something on the way.”

“You know what? I would love that.” Your stomach rumbled at the offering of food, and you flushed with embarrassment at the loud sound, but Mitch only laughed, rolling to his feet and swiping up the tissue bundle and condom to take to the kitchen while you continued to dress yourself. You had located his boxers and sweats, and offered them to him when he returned, to which he pulled on both quickly, before making his way upstairs to grab a shirt. He was pulling on shoes as he came down the stairs in awkward footsteps, before lacing them up when he reached the bottom, and grabbing a hoodie for himself from on the coat hooks by the door, shrugging it on over his head.

“Ready?”

“We need to put the blankets away first.”

He shook his head as he looked around, holding his hand out towards the door instead, and swiping up his keys as he went. “Nah, I cleaned up everything that would give away what we did, but Stiles can clean up the rest. That’s what he gets for ditching you, he doesn’t get movie night, but he still gets clean up duty. It’s only fair.”

You gave it one final glance, before deciding you absolutely fucking agreed, and offered him your brightest smile as you headed out towards the older brother’s car, the sleek black calling to you as it reflected the streetlamps dotted along the sidewalk. “Can we put the heated seats on again?”

“If you want to, sure.”

You nodded eagerly, hopping up into the car once it was unlocked and settling yourself into the seat, flicking the button yourself this time once Mitch had started up the vehicle and set off onto the roads, a chuckle on his lips as he watched you play with the large console of buttons, turning on the regular heating and the radio, too.

Instead of the widely broadcasted channels, however, the music system began to blast out the last song that Mitch has been listening too, and you jumped at the sudden and loud bass, the car swerving a little as clearly Mitch was caught off guard too, but you were soon gasping in realisation of the beat that was playing, turning the volume down a little but tapping your fingers in time with the tune.

“I love this song!”

“You do?” You nodded, opening the box on the dashboard and looking for the CD album, but he only offered his phone to you, giving you a pointed look as he tapped the bluetooth symbol showing up on the screen. “Not used to modern-day technology, driving around in that old jeep all the time, huh?”

“That jeep has history!”

“You sound like Stiles.” He muttered, rolling his eyes but grinning at you anyway, and you scrolled through his music selection, the conversation between you both flowing easily as you bonded over your music choices, and your favourite songs, which had quickly devolved into favourite movies and your preference on sports teams, and toppings on pizza.

You had flown through the drive-thru, almost empty in the late hour, and he had insisted on paying, calling it his treat, and telling you that you could pay next time.

Being in Mitch’s company was easy. It wasn’t burdened with the worry of rejection or the loss of friendship, it wasn’t weighed down with unrequited love and the fear of not being accepted. With Mitch, you didn’t have previous commitments and complicated friendships and worries about college. He was fun, and warm, and he made everything that plagued your mind go away when you were with him, even if it was just for a little while.

The ride was filled with jokes and laughter, the two of you driving around the empty roads aimlessly until you were pulled up in front of your house, giggling as you finished your milkshakes, used wrappers and cartons stuffed into the bags you’d been given the food in, sitting long discarded by your feet as you peeled the top off of your plastic cup and tried to use the straw to scrape at the whipped cream that had fallen to the bottom.

You managed to scoop some up, humming happily as the sweet goodness filled your mouth and covered your senses, before you were dropping it back down to add to the rubbish in the bag, and licking at your lips to clear it away.

“You know we’ve been driving around for, like, three hours?”

He glanced down at the clock, the time flashing up, despite the engine being turned off as you sat parked up outside of your house. “Oh, shit. I thought we’d been out for an hour, or so.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” You teased, and he finished up his drink, putting the empty plastic into the cupholder, his gaze finding yours, and he watched as you lifted a hand up to the side of his mouth, wiping above his lip at the froth caught in his stubble, before smearing it away on a napkin, your head tipping to sit on the headrest as you faced him. The music was playing quietly throughout the car, and you covered your yawn, but his eyes crinkled at the sides as he looked at you, catching the sight of tiredness on your features.

“Tired, kitten?” You mumbled your acknowledgement, your eyes sliding closed a little, and you felt his hand coming up to hold yours, lacing your fingers together and sitting them on the console between you both, and you could feel his stare lingering on you. “I did have fun, you know.”

“Me too, it was a really awesome night. Probably better than any other movie night would have been, actually.” You opened your eyes to look at him now, and he nodded, a bashful look covering his features as he pulled you in a little closer to him, and you happily leaned over towards his space.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, but I appreciate the chivalry.” You joked, and he barely let out a laugh this time, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and he let out a content sound when you nuzzled a little further into his palm.

“No, those were different. Those were kisses leading up to sex, and that’s what we’ve been doing, what we are doing.” You studied him carefully now, brows furrowed as you watched him try to get his words out. “There’s no sex after this, nothing else. I just want to kiss you goodnight.”

You stared at him for a moment, before bringing a hand of your own to sit on his other cheek, pulling his face in towards yours, brushing your noses together, before connecting your lips softly.

He tasted like the salt of french fries and the whipped cream on top of his chocolate shake. He pressed into you firmly, his fingers digging in under your jaw, just enough to make sure you wouldn't pull back too soon, so that he could prolong the connection, and the drag of your lips against his.

When he did finally pull back, his lips were still puckered or a moment, brushing your lips together before he was letting out a soft sigh, and pressing a kiss to your nose and your forehead. You let him do so, before you repeated the action on him, earning yourself a shy and intimate smile as you kissed at his forehead and he tipped his head down to let you do so, your lips lingering on his skin before you pulled back, giggling so quietly you weren’t sure if he had even heard it, but it didn’t matter.

“I'll text you, okay?

“I hope so. Don’t want it to be days before I talk to you again.” You mumbled, before grabbing your things and hopping out of the car, walking around to the side of the car, and he rolled his window down, brows raised as he looked at you lingering outside his car. The lights in your house were still on, and you glanced back at the windows, before leaning in through his and pressing your lips to his in a final short kiss, a smile gracing his lips as you spoke your next words; “Thank you for making this night so much better than I thought it would be.”

“Goodnight, kitten.”

“Goodnight, Mitch.”

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brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak and a New Tattoo - w. nylander

AN: Uhhhhhhhh. Definitely didn’t intend on posting a fic tonight but, cranked this out. It started off as meaning to be fluffy and cute but uh, my angsty cold heart said no? I’m trying to be better about writing shorter stuff, so let me know what you think! I’m gonna tag @broadstbroskis and @jasondickinsonss since they’re my resident willy pals.

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Angst, happy ending though.

No one warned you that you would lose a piece of yourself when you fell in love. They didn’t caution you about how for every good moment, the ones that make your head spin and your heart race, there would be a chip of your own sense of person falling away. They didn’t tell you that after four years with someone, you slip into their habits, nestling tightly into their life. So much so that you aren’t even sure what direction you’re facing, because everything around you was built by him. It wasn’t that William did anything wrong. In fact, he did everything a partner should. His life was logistically a chaotic nightmare, each step felt like he was balancing on a rope, trying to get to the other side. But he was good at it, he always prioritized you, even when it was hard. The only problem was that he didn’t know the very rope he was stuck on was fraying.

It had started small, the cracks between you. The calls during road trips became shorter, less engaged. By the time either of you realized what was happening, it was just two people who once aligned into one breathing on a deadline out of obligation because it felt like that was what you were supposed to do. By the time you realized that the person you thought you were, wasn’t anyone recognizable without William by your side, you irresponsibly thought that it was time to let go. So, you let go of the visions of marriage and a family, of the house you dreamed of building together once things settled down, of the thoughts of the holidays spent together, each one more special than the last. You let it all go, taking a seam ripper to the last bits of thread connecting your souls. You couldn’t decide what hurt worse, the demise of what you thought was forever, or the fact that William didn’t put up a fight as you packed your things and left.

William didn’t know what hit him when you muttered that you were leaving. He was so sure it had to be a mistake, that there had to be some piece of information missing that would fix everything. He felt his chest caving in, the weight of you packing your bags codifying a new language into his head, one that didn’t include you. He spent weeks circling through the last few months before you ended it. Writing down and analyzing every fight, every night spent without talking to each other when he was gone, trying to piece together what moment made you leave. What he could have done to save the very thing that was destined to fall apart no matter how much super glue he tried to stick to it. You needed to find yourself again, and no matter how badly he longed to help you, he needed to let you go.

When William came back into Toronto in September, he was incessantly telling himself that he was doing better, that the fresh season would throw him back into a familiar enough routine that he could finally adjust to life without you. But familiarity breeds nostalgia, and nostalgia controlled the heartbreak he had spent the last few months trying to let go of. It wasn’t until he was back in the apartment that you shared that the resentment stage of his grief had tucked into his heart.

The resentment was the worst part of the breakup. Because he didn’t want to resent anything about you. He had gotten four years to love you as best as he could, and he didn’t want to replace all of the memories of love with a feeling of regret. He didn’t regret loving you, even if it ended the way that it had. He didn’t regret thinking he was going to marry you, and when he finally moved on from the resentment stage of grief, he realized that sometimes you can put your all into someone and they simply might not be able to give you all of it back. He was slowly starting to thread the foundation of a new rope, he was starting to move on. But when he saw you standing there in your dark blue dress, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he had seen you, talking to Steph, he dropped the newly constructed rope off the ledge.

You on the other hand were spending your summer trying to piece together the remaining fragments of your own being, the person who you were before you met William. You were doing okay, as okay as someone could be when they had just ended a four-year relationship with the person that they assumed would be the one. You spent months lying to yourself about being okay. You spent months trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a mistake, that you didn’t leave because you couldn’t handle being honest with him about how you were feeling.

It was October and you knew he was back in the city. Hockey had started which meant that his presence was now one you actively had to avoid. You took the long way into the city and back home most days, actively avoiding the arena, knowing that being there would be too much. This half-hearted way of living in the city you called home was manageable, until December when you finally had the courage to unpack the remaining boxes from the home you shared together.

You were going through a notebook when it fell out, Mitch and Steph’s wedding invitation from over a year ago now. You picked up the card, eyes welling with the tears you had shoved down for the last six months as you remembered that weekend. The weekend you realized Will was your person.

“I can’t believe you and Mitch are finally getting married.” You hummed to Steph as you slid off your heels and collapsed onto the hotel bed. You had always admired Mitch and Steph, their relationship was one that was the definition of two people who fit together seamlessly, and made the choice to make it work between them. It wasn’t a fairytale or a whirlwind, it was real and raw and you couldn’t be happier as you laid in that hotel bed, dress and makeup still on, half-drunk from the overpriced cocktails that the boys kept flowing after they crashed the bachelorette party, that two of your closest friends were getting married in just two days.

“God, I know. Is it weird I’m not nervous about it at all?” Steph called from around the corner. You stood up, your feet slightly throbbing from being in heels all night and your mind feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks as you rounded the corner and saw her taking off her makeup in the mirror.

“No, you and Mitch are just right, ya know? It works.” You looked at her hand, eyes shifting to the diamond sitting perfectly on her ring finger, sparkly and bright and perfect for her. You grabbed your phone from the counter where you had left it earlier in the evening, not wanting to bring it out with you while you and the girls celebrated with Steph. You looked at the home screen, a small notification catching your eye as you unlocked the phone and hit play on the voicemail. Steph grabbed the phone from your hand, a knowing smile on her face as she turned the volume on the speaker up, William’s voice filling the small hallway before you had the chance to stop it.

“Hey baby, you’re probably back in the room by now. I just wanted to say that you looked amazing tonight, and I know we can’t be together tonight because of the traditions and all that, but I love you and will be thinking of you.”

Steph handed you the phone back, a stupid smirk evident on her face that you were pretending to ignore. You went back toward your suitcase, sliding the dress off of your body and throwing on one of Willy’s old sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. You sat on the bed, fingers hovering over your phone as you thought of a message to type back to your boyfriend, a smile lingering on your cheeks from his message.

“You know what he said to me the night he met you? Granted, he was shitfaced, but I still think it’s relevant.” Steph smirked as she came around the corner, crawling onto the other side of the bed and turning to face you. You rolled your eyes at her and set your phone down, ignoring her slightly as she started speaking again,

“He told me ‘I’m gonna marry her one day Stephanie, just wait.’”

You let yourself cry over that memory, and for the first time since the breakup, you realized that you were worse off without him, that you had ended something entirely too good for reasons you didn’t understand. You picked up the phone to call more times than you could count, only to set it back down again, torturing yourself with the idea that you had made your decision, and you needed to lay with it.

You were in such a daze when he walked up to you, nerves settling into your stomach at the sight of him. He didn’t look like your Willy anymore, he looked like a hollow version of the man you still were hopelessly in love with, the one that you ultimately played the biggest hand in breaking. You followed him without a word when he asked you if you could talk because the truth was that you would follow William anywhere if it meant that maybe you could get a piece of him back.

It was awkward for a few moments, both of you riddled with nerves, wondering who was going to dare to break first and say what they were truly thinking about. It was agonizing, being so close to him for the first time in such a long time, and it only made your own doubts about leaving him to come back to your chest in full force. William grabbed your hand quickly, threading his fingers through yours before finally speaking, being the first one to crack the eggshells that you were both walking on.

“Do you sleep well without me? Because I don’t. I don’t think I’ve slept since June when you left.” He said, head hanging down as if the words he was speaking were in some way shameful. Your heart wanted to break for him because you had been in the same situation for so long, nights feeling long and empty without him there. But part of you was almost feeling some weird sense of satisfaction at knowing he was hurting just as badly as you. You weren’t surprised he dove right in, head first. It was what he always did. He had known you for so long, there wasn’t a point in dancing around saying he missed you now that he had the chance to tell you so, he had already been doing enough to push it away on his own. He didn’t want to keep pushing something that he was starting to realize wasn’t meant to go away.

“No, willy. I haven’t slept well since we broke up.” You shook your head, opting to tell the truth because up until this point, lying to pretend you were fine had only left you empty, with a broken heart that you didn’t know how to heal.

“I stayed up until 6 am just because at least then if I called you might be awake. I felt like I was watching myself just get worse and worse, and all I wanted was you. I’m not supposed to want you anymore, William.”

“I would have answered, I would always answer.”

“It’s not the same, you know it’s not.” William sighed softly at your words as he let them run in tedious circles through his head. He had spent the better part of the last six months missing you and replaying the events from the summer wondering if you were both wrong for what had happened. Your love story had been like a journey by train, exciting when you’re young and tiring when you get older. It was great until one of you, who could even remember who at this point, had gotten off during a stop and the other one continued on the journey alone and by the time you both reached the final destination, the two different trips couldn’t merge into one anymore. But the problem was that maybe the final destination was all wrong, maybe you were supposed to get off the train because now you could come back together and start a different trip together, one that isn’t tiring when you’re older.

He looked over at you quickly and let his eyes linger on the features of your face, the ones he used to have memorized hidden by the obvious toll the breakup had taken on you, too. He couldn’t help but think about how if he were to take one look in a mirror that he had been avoiding for the past six months, he probably wouldn’t recognize himself either.

“I tried to call you,” he started, voice tentative and unsure as you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blurry, and your mind nearly blacked out at the five words he just spoke. Five words that maybe could change everything, or perhaps they would have if you had seen the call in the first place. You tilted your head softly as William ran his hand through his hair.

“But, your voicemail was full.” You looked away from him, the pain in your chest creeping back in as you took in his second set of five words. Your voicemail, the one that had been filled with messages from him, from times where you were happy, and from drunken nights after the breakup where he sometimes would call and all you would hear on the other end was silence.

“I couldn’t bring myself to delete them, I just wanted a place where I would be able to hear your voice and have it be just for me,” you smiled sadly, letting the tears blur your vision as you stood up. You didn’t know what to do, this all felt suffocating and overwhelming and yet definitive at the same time. This was it, you were either getting William back, or you were letting him go forever. The choice should have been a simple one and yet it was almost more complicated than the initial choice to breakup had been because at least when you did that, you both thought it was what you wanted. Now you were presented with either putting your heart out in the open, tossing it carefully to the person you had known for so long and putting your trust in him to catch it, or you were running the risk of him dropping it and leaving you crumbled on the floor as you tried to pick up the remnants of whatever would be left after a fumble that big.

“I spent Christmas without you, please don’t make me spend New Years without you, too.”

“I don’t want to spend any day without you again.” You whispered, resting your hand on his cheek. William smiled at you and pulled you close into his chest. He tilted your head up and connected his lips to yours, something that you both had spent the last six months missing. You settled into him, feeling your fears melt with each moment that passed. The breakup had left heartache in both of you, but it was necessary to put your real love into permanent ink on both of your chests. A new start, one without heartbreak and with a new tattoo.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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flamminghotweedos · 4 years

Note

Hey, I saw your writing prompts and I thought that maybe you could write number 49 about JJ from outer banks

Thanks for the first request! Was super excited to see people wanted some stuff and to get back into writing! Really hope you enjoyed it! Also the spacing is weird on this one for some reason, not sure what happened but it’ll be fixed in the next post!

Words: 2215

Warnings: underaged drinking, drug use, teens being teens and gets a little saucy at the end

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Requested: yes- #49 “if I can’t sleep...and you can’t sleep...”

~Grounded~

“Ahoy mateys!” You called to your group of friends as you walked down your dock.

“Hey princess,” Kiara smiled back, the sunlight bouncing off her beautifully. She looked great for someone who was hungover. Kiara was your best friend, side by side for the longest time, seeing your families were both Kooks. You both found comfort and salvation in the other, and just so happened to stumble upon three boys your age.

“Thank you,” you smiled to Pope who held his hand out for you, helping you jump down into HMS Pogue. He gave a sweet smile, being the only one with you that didn’t have a hangover like the others and watched you place your bag on the seat and cooler on the ground. You smiled at Kiara as you tossed her one of the fruity alcoholic drinks to her and looked to your other two friends.

“Boys,” you called back, getting a slight wave of a hand from John B who manned the boat with his back facing towards you. You chuckled and dug in the cooler for two beers. You placed one in the cup holder next to the wheel, feeling John B’s lips crash on to the side of your head. You chuckled as the boat sailed towards the marsh and made your way to the front of the boat. There, face down on the seat laying on his stomach, was the handsome blonde you’ve liked since you’ve met him.

Knowing JJ, he was probably passed out like an old dog at this point making you laugh harder. His left hand dangled off the seat and you popped the cap off the beer bottle and placed it underneath his hand. And like a dog smelling a treat in front of it’s nose, JJ’s head rose with a goofy grin on his face. He sat up and looked at you, wind blowing his locks to the side as he debated on what to say to you.

“Did you just bring me a beer?” He yelled over the sound of the wind as the boat raced on the water. You laughed and nodded, watching him quickly slide on the floor, getting on one knee and kneeling in front of you where you sat.

“Marry me?” You laughed harder at the charming blonde as his eyes trailed down from yours, to your chest that was clothed in your favorite bathing suit top, watching him stare directly at your boobs. “Oh my god, Y/N, please marry me,” you pushed him away.

“JJ!” You yelled and watched as took a swig of the beer and smirked as he sat back in the front of the boat.

“Could’ve been a little more subtle, dude,” John B yelled over the wind, making the two of you in the front bust into fits of laughs. You looked to the back of the boat, Kiara catching your eyes as she laughed at the same thing, winking quickly as she knew the thing you had for JJ.

A few hours after that, the sun hidden behind the horizon now, and multiple bottles and joints later, the crew was simply having another summer night.

“Hey JB,” Pope called, looking at his phone and walked to the front of the boat. You and John B. were dancing at the bow of the boat to the music Kiara was playing over the speakers. “Chase said that someone started a party at your house,” John B. smiled at you and got down from the bow and walked over to Pope, looking at the text he was talking about.

“Oh shit,” John B. cursed, “yeah I told Jess she could throw a party there tonight and totally forgot,”

“Then what are we waiting for?” JJ asked and stumbled as the boat started to move in the direction of JJ’s house. Everyone was a few drinks in, even Pope had one or two. You stood, feeling the hits from JJ’s joint hit you once you stood up. As you gained your balance, you knocked into JJ, causing him to wrap his arms around you waist as the boat turned.

“Oh shit? We dancin again?” JJ took your right hand that was carrying your bottle and wrapped his hand around so the cold glass was trapped between your hands. The both of you giggled as you dramatically danced to the song on the radio.

“Hang on, I want a drink,” you tried pulling the bottle to your lips, feeling JJ’s strong retrain on your arm.

“No! We have to finish the dance!” JJ joked, causing John B. to chime in.

“Kids, knock it off before you spill that!”

“Tell him to give me my drink!” You yelled back as the boat gained speed.

“No! It’s mine now!” JJ yelled childishly.

“JJ! It’s my beer,” both arms were now pulling or pushing on the small glass bottle, so it wasn’t a surprise when the neck of the bottle slipped and twisted out of your hands. The both of you gasped dramatically and turned to the direction of the shatter.

The bottle broke in half against the window in front of the boat’s wheel, spilling the beer all over the window and ground below it.

“Really guys?!” Kiara asked and snapped her head over.

“What did JB just say?!” Pope laughed from his seat.

“JJ wouldn’t give me a drink of my beer!” You shouted in defense as the boat neared the dock, loud music coming from the yard, a group of teens around a fire cheered as you guys floated up.

“I just wanted to dance!” JJ shot back, beginning an argument to begin between the both of you.

“That’s it!” John B. yelled as Pope and Kie finished tying the boat up. “You’re both grounded! No party, weed or drinks for either of you tonight!”

“Pop!” Kiara added in jokingly, laughing as she walked away from the boat.

“And you can’t come come up until that spots cleaned up. Then straight to John B’s room!” Kiara voice was a stern voice, but the wink she shot at you made you feel like she had planned this.

“We mean it,” John B. said and got out of the boat with Kiara, leaving you and JJ alone in the boat, shocked that your three friends just grounded you.

“What the fuck just happened?” JJ asked for the both of you, looking to you for an answer, but forgot it when he saw how close the two of you were still standing.

“I don’t know,” you laughed, “but get the glass cleaned up and I’ll-“ as you turned your head, you noticed how close you were too. Your breath hitched and you stopped talking. A smirk grew on JJ’s face, liking the sudden affect he had on you.

You were both sobering up, but even 100% sober, the sun kissed boy would still have the same affect on you.

“That or we could forget the mess and go straight to the room,” you wanted to kiss the stupid smirk off his face, so you slowly inched you face towards him, watching him slowly lean in as well, you bailed last second, giggling to yourself as you swerved to the left of him and grabbed the wad of towels underneath the seat and began wiping up the beer. JJ stood in his place, shocked at what had just happened to him. JJ’s had his fair share of flirty interactions, but none of them affected him the same way you did.

“That was cold, Y/N,” he mumbled and let out a joking scoff as he bent over and picked up the shards of glass, tossing them in the small trash bag you had on the boat just as you finished wiping up the mess.

You smiled at him, nodding for him to follow you as you propped your leg on the seat to climb on the dock, feeling a familiar hand grope your ass as you got out.

“JJ, I swear to god,” to laughed and swatted his hand away as he got out of the boat and giggled, matching your pace and laying his arm around your shoulder.

“There he is!” A familiar boy ran over to the two of you, doing a quick hand shake with JJ as he kept his arm around you. “What’re you drinkin tonight?” Pope then suddenly appeared, shaking his head.

“Nothing for these two,” Pope dragged the kid away and you two continued to walk to John B.’s house, having to ignore the calls and invites to drinks from different friends in the yard.

“Can’t tonight! Daddy grounded me!” JJ yelled and pointed to John B. who cursed him for the sudden nickname.

“Hey, were serious,” Kiara stopped the two of you at the bottom of the porch steps. “No leaving that room tonight. It’s for your health too,” Kiara lied and shrugged, walking back over to her spot by the fire.

JJ laughed and let walk up the steps first, following behind you as he held the door open for you to walk through.

The little, wooden shack was covered with varies pizza boxes, clothing items and beer bottles as you passed through, making your way to the little guest room John B. had in the house.

“Well...at least we can’t hear anyone outside at all,” you said sarcastically over the loud music now only slightly muffled from the walls and windows.

JJ laughed and made his way to one window with the blinds open. He quickly flipped John B. off from inside, earning a shrug back, and closed the blinds on the window.

“The blinds work great too,” JJ said as he pulled his black, cut off tee over his head and flopped on the bed. The light from the outdoor lighting shined through the cracks of the blinds. You chuckled and laid on the dark blue sheets next to JJ.

“I’m never gonna be able to sleep like this,” you put your arms behind you head with your eyes closed and took a deep breath. You felt the bed move next to you. JJ rolled over on his back and took a deep breath in.

“If you can’t sleep...and I can’t sleep...that obviously means we have to have sex,” you have an unexpected snort, laughing as you opened your eyes and looked at JJ. You thought he was just making a flirt remark, but the way his eyes were dark, and his body was turned towards you told you differently.

“JJ...no Pogue on Pogue macking,” you reminded him causing him to roll his eyes with a groan.

“Yeah but to be fair, I’ve been flirting with you for months and I think everyone’s noticed i have a thing for you,” JJ blurted out, suddenly nervous on how you’d respond. You felt your cheeks get hot and kept yourself from looking at him, knowing the moment you’d see him, it’d be game over and you’d be on top of him.

So that’s exactly what you did.

You turned your head on the pillow and scanned his tan fit body. To be fair, Kiara already knew how badly you had it for JJ. Plus Pope and John B. couldn’t stay mad at you guys forever. And Kiara had already hinted at you two getting together so many times before.

“Okay,” you whispered, smile creeping on your face making JJ sit up and look at you.

“Wait really?!” JJ was shocked that out of all the flirty remarks he made to you, blankly asking for sex is what got you. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he kept his arm around you the whole way up to the house, it getting tighter when different guys would come over and offer you a drink. It was also the way he made you feel whenever you two talked. The same butterflies in your stomach you only ever thought you’d hear about, until JJ.

“Really,” you sat up as well, only to move over and straddle JJ’s lap, watching as he swallowed hard and took a sharp breath. You got tired of the eye contact and closed the space between the two of you. His lips moved against yours in sync, feeling his hands move over your hips, now kissing with the rhythm of your hips grinding on his. You pulled back slightly, tugged at the bottom of your shirt and tossing it to the side, JJ’s eyes trailing down to your chest and back to your eyes.

“Fuck me,” he breathed out making you giggle slightly.

“I am,” you breathed out, pushing on his bare chest on to the dark blue bed.

~~~~~~~

OUTER BANKS HAS THE BEST CLIFF HANGERS KAY HAHA

OH KAY HEY THAT GOT SAUCIER THAN I EXPECTED hope you liked it, request are open if anyone wants anymore! :)

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

The Widow 🖤

Warnings: nonconsent (fingering and intercourse)

This is dark!(mob)Buckyand explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you.

Note: What is this? A one shot? Possible series? I’m posting this at 930 pm and I don’t even know anymore. But anyway, hope you enjoy.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You thought yourself fortunate not to have worn black for Billy during the war, but the day had come regardless. You clutched his dog tags as the rain poured over your hat and soaked through your wool coat. Painfully ironic to think he evaded a thousand bullets in France just to catch one at home.

An unfortunate ending followed by an even more tragic send-off. No one but you and the priest. None of the corpsmen could make it to the funeral and his family hadn’t spoken to him since well before the war. It was better they stayed on their farm and tended their fields. They always said Billy would die in the city.

Would they be smug to know they were right or sorry for it?

You stared at the casket as the wet dirt was piled atop it. Each landed with a duller thump than the last. The police officer told you they found him in an alley. You supposed it was better than a bloated corpse at the bottom of a river. At least you knew he was gone. You could move on… but to what?

When there was nothing left to mark Billy but a flat headstone and a low mound of dirt, the priest left. He offered you a ride but you refused. You needed to be alone. You had to get used to that.

You didn’t move until you heard the thunder. You glanced up at the howling sky and felt the cold metal on your finger. Billy bought the ring after he came home; you’d spent the war with a loop of twine as its placeholder.

His job at the banker saw him well in those first months after but he was always a man who wanted more. You warned him against the thoughts you saw twinkling in his eyes. One night a week he went down to the speakeasy and gambled; never enough to see you out of more than a loaf of bread or two. He liked the thrill, though surely the danger lured him more.

You overheard him on the phone. He was helping the men down at the drinking hole case the bank. A one time hit wasn’t going to keep him so long as his teller position. You argued as he tried to wiggle out of a thin lie; you misheard him. It ended with him promising you nothing would happen.

Maybe he had been honest. Maybe he tried to back out and got the bullet as his penance. You couldn’t know for sure but what you did was that it was those men at the speakeasy who did this to him. They had paid him with a coffin; not a very nice one as you couldn’t afford more than pine.

You trudged away, your heeled boots wet from toe to ankle. You tore your veil from your hat and let the rain run down your face. You still hadn’t cried. Why?

You neared the brick building and let yourself in. You climbed up to the small apartment you and Billy shared. Had shared. You shoved the key in and your numbness disappeared all at once. It was unlocked. Through the muffled thunder and constant patter, you could hear movement within. It was too late to turn back as the door opened from the other side.

The man who greeted you wore a finely tailored suit;grey lined with blue. He stared back at you, his mouth a firm line framed by his square jaw. You swung without thinking, the chain that held Billy’s tags still around your fingers. The stranger caught your hand just before it could hit him and one of the metal tags bounced off his chin.

“Hey,” He grabbed your other arm and wrestled with you. “What are you doing?”

“Get off,” You struggled as his arms slipped around you and crushed you against his chest. Your arms were trapped between your bodies as he grunted. “Help me! Someone--”

“No one’s gonna help ya, doll,” He sneered. “Even if they do hear ya.”

“Stop!” You tried to wriggle free. “Please, I don’t know what you want but--”

“I want you to be still. You won’t like it if I have to make you.” He squeezed until the air was forced from your lungs. He was terribly strong. “And you seem like a lady’s who faced enough pain today.”

“What do you want?” You gasped as you tried to stomp his foot blindly.

“Not gonna tell you until you calm down.” He insisted.

You bared your teeth and reluctantly stilled. You glared at him and huffed. “Just take whatever it is you’re looking for. Please. I just buried my husband… maybe you’ll do me the favour of digging me in next to him.”

The tension in his jaw relented just as little as he looked at you. He pulled you through the door and turned around so that he was between you and the hallway. He let you go and kicked the door shut. You gripped the chain tighter.

“Now don’t you go trying that shit again,” He scowled as his hand settled on his hip just above a pistol. “I really don’t wanna hurt you, doll.”

“That’s not my name,” You bristled. “Now tell me what you’re doing here.”

You turned your head as you heard shuffling from the other room. He was silent as he listened too.

“You’re Billy’s wife?” He asked.

“Widow,” You corrected. “Though I suspect you knew that already. Now tell me--”

“What’s your name then, doll?”

You reluctantly told him and he gave you his; Bucky, as his men knew him.

“Come, sit,” He gestured you further in. “I said calm down.”

You pursed your lips and slowly turned around. You entered the front room and frowned. The sofa was the only piece of furniture not overturned. You crossed your arms and as you neared it.

“You should take that coat off,” He intoned. “You’ll get a cold sitting in that.”

You didn’t respond, merely unbuttoned the wool jacket and slung it over the arm of the sofa. You slipped the tags in your pocketbook and set it atop the coat. You sat and looked to him as he tucked his hands in his pockets. He strode around the room as the noise of intrusion continued from the other room.

“How long were you married to good old Billy?” He asked.

“Does it matter?” You said.

“Judging by the photos,” He neared the corner and lifted a cracked frame, “I’d say you’ve been with him since before the war. That’s a long time. At least eight years together, wed or not.”

“What are you looking for?” You asked.

“Something that if you knew, you’d not tell me anyway,” He considered the picture as he neared. “And poor Billy took to his grave. My condolences.”

You scoffed and unpinned your hat. You tossed it onto the floor with the rest of the mess.

“I don’t want them,” You hissed. “So better get on with your search and leave me alone. Not taking any of this mess with me, anyway.”

“Taking it with you?” He repeated. “And where would you be going?”

“Don’t see how that’s of concern to you,” You countered.

He chuckled and looked around. He grabbed the armchair and righted it before dragging it over. He sat before you and leaned forward.

“Billy definitely learned a lot from that bank. If you must know, he lifted some money off my organisation and with the amount left outstanding, you’d have quite the life.” He said. “So you leaving all sudden is suspicious, isn’t it?”

“My husband is dead. I haven’t a job and I can’t pay the rent with grief.” You replied. “I’d say it’s practical.”

He smiled and leaned back as he crossed his legs. He bit his thumb as he watched you. Your possessions crashed and shattered in the other room. You looked at the clock then the window. The sky was grey and foreboding.

“So, if you got no money, where would you be going?” He asked at last.

“Again, I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” You uttered.

He tapped his bottom lip with his fingertips. He nodded and reached into his jacket. He checked the time and stood.

“Stay.” He jabbed his finger towards you. “You won’t make it far.”

You sighed and looked at your lap. His footsteps walked down the hall and his voice followed.

“It’s not here, Steve.” He said. “He was foolish but not stupid. He wouldn’t hide it under his pillow.”

There was an answer but you didn’t listen. Billy stole money and in return he got a bullet. Just another small town boy dead in the city. And he hadn’t even told you. You were all alone, penniless, and soon to be homeless.

“Head back to house, have the men scour the city. Worse comes to worse, we visit that fancy little bank,” The voices grew louder and you looked up as another man appeared from the hallway.

His dark blonde hair was slicked back and his blue eyes twinkled in contrast to his black suit. He peeked over at you then back to the other man. He lifted a brow but shrugged.

“Alright, boss,” He said. “See ya there?”

“Shortly,” The other assured and followed him to the door.

When the second man left, the first closed the door and turned the lock. He returned to you and pulled the chair aside. He began to pace again as he thought. You stood and he turned to you abruptly. He raised a hand.

“Where are you going?”

“You going to be here all day?” You wondered.

“Bit of patience,” He coaxed. “I was only trying to think of a way to help a poor widow such as yourself.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“But you need it.” He smirked.

You stared at him. The curve of his lips made your stomach curdle.

“The way I see it, your man’s gone. Got himself killed for being a thief.” He neared you slowly, “Most men of my stature would go so far as you see you in the ground next to him… but I am not any man.”

You watched him uneasily as he stopped before you.

“Well, now you’re gonna need one of two things. A job,” He held up a finger, “Or a man. And I can see that you get neither in this city without my say so.” He flicked up a second finger then suddenly turned his hand. He cupped your face in his palm as his thumb rubbed along your lip. “I’m not hiring though so I suppose I can offer the latter.”

You shoved him away and stumbled back. “You killed my husband. Why would I--”

“He got himself killed and while I bid the trigger pulled, I didn’t do it myself,” He argued. “Hard snake to catch, that Billy.”

“Get out of my apartment.” You demanded. “What you want isn’t here so go!”

“Oh but what I want is here,” He trailed you as you stormed to the door. “Because if I can’t have what Billy took from me, I’ll have what’s left of his in this world.”

You unlocked the door and opened it just an inch before he slammed it shut with his hand. You turned to slap him but your hand froze as the barrel of a gun gaped back at you. You dropped your arm and leaned against the door. He slowly lowered the pistol and dragged the muzzle along your neck and chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya better than he did.” He slithered. “Place like this? Nothing to what I can give ya.”

“Please, go--”

“You know, I was hoping to be out of here before you got back. I hate dealing with widows, but you, oh, I see what Billy saw… and more,” He carefully sheathed his pistol at his belt. “I can see why he wanted to give you more. Give you everything.”

His arm rested against the door beside your head as he got even closer. You could taste his breath on your lips.

“I’m gonna give you everything and then some.” He growled.

He bent suddenly and scooped you up. He forced himself between your legs as he pushed you against the door. You beat on his shoulders as he pressed his lips to yours. You grunted helplessly as his hand crawled beneath your skirt and past your stocking. He played with your garter as his tongue poked between your lips.

You bit down but he was quick. He pulled away before you could catch his tongue and he sneered.

“You make me bleed, I’ll have to make you bleed,” He pinched your thigh. “And you don’t want that.”

His hand crept up your pelvis and he gripped the top of your underwear. He tore them easily as his other hand kept your right leg propped up against his hip. You grasped at his suit and begged as the heat pricked at your flesh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” He purred as he bent and nipped at your throat. “Better than he did.”

You grunted between your teeth, unable to free yourself from between him and the door. His fingers slid down your folds and pushed deeper as he drew them back up. He twirled them around your bud and you shuddered. You closed your eyes in shame as your body spasmed.

“Woman like you can’t be alone,” He cooed. “And I can tell you don’t wanna be.”

He flicked his fingers back and forth until you were writhing, your nails embedded in his blazer as you bit down on your lip. He rescinded his hand and fumbled with the front of his trousers. His buckle clinked loudly and stoked another wave of panic in you.

He was quick to line himself up with your entrance. You brought your hand up to claw at his face and he just as swiftly batted it away before he gripped his cock once more. He pushed inside as his other hand released your thigh and went to your throat. Your leg remained hooked over his hip as he sank to his limit.

You whined and he thrust sharply. You threw your head back against the door and scratched at his shoulders. He kept his pace slow and steady, as if to tease, knowingly drawing the pleasure from you as the friction filled you with a terrible fullness.

He choked you harder as he sped up little by little. You could barely rasp past his clutch but your strangled moans escaped nonetheless. You closed your eyes and tried not to think of how thin the walls were; how clearly any in the hall could hear if they happened to pass by.

You couldn’t bear it anymore as your core began to pulse. You slapped his shoulders as you came and the tension snapped in a whirlwind. You drowned in the waves of ecstasy as he fucked you harder and harder. Your pitiful mewls only seemed to feed his lust and your shame.

The door shook as he fucked you against it, his head beside yours as he trapped you between him and the wood. His groans were wild and loud. He nibbled at your ear as his hand slid down to your chest and cupped your tit through your black dress.

His other hand hit the door in a fist as he cried out and your eyes sprang open. His body quaked as he spilled inside of you. His body twitched as he slowed and he threw his head back as he panted. He swallowed his hand grazed along your stomach lazily.

He eased out of you and let your leg fall. Your legs threatened to collapse beneath you as you clung to the door. Your skirt slowly slipped back into place as your underwear sat disposed between your feet. He did up his pants and cleared his throat. He took out his watch again.

“Get your coat, doll,” He said. “No time to waste.”

🖤🖤🖤

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #mob au #dark bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #mafia au #marvel #mcu #captain america #one shot #?

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aalissy · 3 years

Text

Winter Storms and Hot Chocolate

Whew, I'm finally getting another one-shot posted hehe. And it's about Adrienette too!! I love these two dorks soo muchhh <3. I hope you guys like them too :). Lemme know what you think! A sleepy, cuddly Marinette is my fave hehe

AO3

Marinette stood at the door of the bakery, glaring at the snow that was quickly transforming into a fierce blizzard. Turning her phone on, she checked the weather, groaning to herself when she saw that a freak snowstorm was set to happen today.

Marinette bid her parents goodbye with a quick glance over her shoulder before ducking out of the shop. She shivered as soon as she got one foot out the door, the vicious cold already making her wish she was back at home in the warm, comfortable bakery. With a small whimper, she continued down her path, determined to make it to her favorite fabric store.

The terrible weather had affected her much more since becoming Ladybug and even waking up this morning took her years. Marinette had barely registered the sound of the blaring alarm and needed Tikki to shout at her in order to wake up. Practically stumbling out of her bed, she bundled up into thick fleece, itchy wool, and layers of cotton. Even still, it did little to help the drowsiness coursing through her bones.

Just one second. Let me close my eyes for just a second. I’m only going straight for the next few metres. It’s okay, Marinette thought to herself as the time between her blinks grew longer and longer. She barely realized it when she was walking down the street with her eyes closed. Suddenly, her eyes flew back open when she crashed directly into someone’s chest, the both of them letting out a startled groan. The only reason the two of them were standing upright and hadn’t fallen into a heap on the ground was because of the warm—and welcomingly familiar—grip the person had on her shoulders.

“Marinette?” asked a smooth and recognizable voice. “Are you alright?”

She looked up in surprise, seeing blonde hair and brilliant, green eyes. Her brain worked furiously for a moment, her forehead scrunching as she tried to focus on the boy in front of her. “A-Adrien?” Marinette asked after a few moments of thinking.

“Yeah,” his head tilted curiously. “You look exhausted. Are you trying to get home?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I just left actually. I’m trying to get to the fabric store to get some new stuff for your guys’ Christmas presents.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her. Eventually, he sighed lightly, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he began leading the two of them somewhere. “Come on, let’s go and get you warmed up first,” he said with a worried smile. “You shouldn’t be stumbling around in the cold like this.”

“Mmm, has anyone ever told you how warm you are?” Marinette murmured blearily, snuggling further into his grasp. The delicious aroma of cinnamon and lavender wafted around her and she squeezed him tighter.

Buried in his chest as she was, she missed the soft look Adrien gave her. She did hear his deep chuckle, though. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “But no, I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

“They should. You make a really nice pillow,” she smiled happily, barely aware that she was speaking. Adrien gave another hearty laugh but didn’t respond.

The two walked in silence for a few more moments, Marinette’s eyes closing fully as she let her crush guide her along, relaxing into his hold. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of a tinkling bell that her eyes were able to open again. She was surprised and greeted by the warm atmosphere of a café. A small smile spread across her face as she took in the welcoming aroma of delicious coffee and hot chocolate. She felt Adrien gesture her forward.

“After you,” he smiled.

Walking into the cozy building, the designer finally felt a little bit more awake. Stopping suddenly inside the entrance, she snuck a peek back behind her. The model was still standing there, smiling gently at her. Her gaze snapped back forward again, her cheeks flushing a bright red.

Oh my god, so this isn’t a dream, then? I actually bumped into Adrien and told him he made a good pillow?! No, no, this can’t be happening!!

Pulling on her pigtails once, Marinette quickly took a seat by the window, gnawing on her lip as she stared out into the snowy world that taunted her. Gulping quietly, she peeked up at Adrien from beneath her lashes as he slid into the seat across from her. He peered back at her, a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright, Marinette?” he asked. "You looked really tired today. Are you sick?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just sleepy. Winter is really not my season.” She gave him what she hoped was a wide, reassuring smile.

“Is that why you keep falling asleep in class then?” he teased her, his green eyes shimmering playfully.

Marinette’s cheeks darkened and she ducked her head shyly. “Maybe,” she giggled nervously before tapping her index fingers together.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Adrien grinned softly back at her. “I actually know someone else who doesn’t do too well in the cold.”

“Y-you do?” she tilted her head as she looked at him curiously.

“Yeah,” his gaze drifted away from her and out the window as he nodded his head slowly. “One of my best friends absolutely hates the snow.”

“Nino hates the snow, really?” Marinette blinked at him a few times. “I had no idea.”

Adrien chuckled at her, shaking his head, “No, no, not Nino. Nino actually loves the snow. He says it helps his creative process.”

“Yuck, really?” she asked, scrunching her nose at the thought. “I barely get anything done during wintertime. I’m too sluggish.”

“My friend says the same thing!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening as he looked back at her. “She moves so slowly and says that you’re meant to stay at home, buried deep under the covers whenever it starts snowing.”

“Your friend is smart,” Marinette giggled. “I’ve said that exact same thing before.”

Her thoughts drifted back to her partner. Chat Noir was there during the cold, windy nights where she had to brave the winter weather for patrol. He was always equipped with two cups of hot chocolate and a blanket that they shared to warm up before heading off to watch the city.

With a quiet, happy sigh, Marinette was suddenly hit by a large craving for the hot chocolate Chat always brought for her. So, when their waiter finally arrived, she chirped out her order cheerfully, “One hot chocolate please.”

She was somewhat surprised, however, when Adrien ordered the same thing as her. “I’ll take a hot chocolate too,” he said. “Ooh, and with extra marshmallows, please!”

Marinette’s lips twitched into a small smile. That was similar to her partner too. He always had a large pile of the delicious dessert in his drink. Raising a curious eyebrow at him, she spoke up, “You like marshmallows then?”

“Oh definitely,” Adrien grinned back at her. “They’re delicious! And hot chocolate with marshmallows is the best drink during winter!”

She giggled quietly at him, “Hot chocolate is my favorite too! It completely warms you up when it’s cold! Especially when it’s snowing like today!”

Adrien opened his mouth to speak but was stopped as their drinks reached the table. Marinette smiled thankfully at their waiter before sipping on the delicious beverage. Any last remaining chill that she had been feeling immediately evaporated upon a sip of the hot chocolate. She hummed, taking another large gulp before grinning up at the boy across from her, “Are your marshmallows good?”

“They’re perfect!” he grinned back at her.

There the two sat in the small, warm café, chatting about the latest schoolwork and updates to their favorite game. They both sipped gradually on their drinks, almost as if neither of them wanted to leave. Marinette even congratulated herself over how well she was handling the conversation with her long-time crush. Eventually, though, her gaze was drawn over to her phone where she gasped at the time. She needed to get back soon! She still had homework due later today!

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she said as she scrambled for her purse in a panic. “I lost track of time! I need to get home and I still don’t have any of the material I need! I’ve gotta go!”

“It’s okay, I’ll walk you,” he waved their waiter back over who he handed a few Euros over to.

“Oh no, no! It’s okay! I can pay for my half at least,” Marinette frowned over at him.

Adrien merely gave her a reassuring smile, shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I dragged you in here so the least I can do is pay for your hot chocolate. Consider it an early Christmas gift,” he winked at her.

Turning a bright shade of pink, Marinette gulped quietly, trying to ignore the implications that this was a date. “O-ok,” she stuttered slightly as she stood up. “B-but you don’t have to walk me over. I’ll be fine by myself, really.”

“It’s no problem, Marinette! I don’t have anywhere else to be and I don’t want you passing out in the middle of a street,” he teased her.

Her blush darkened as she mumbled, “Okay.”

After that was decided, they walked to the front entrance, with Marinette taking a big gulp of air before heading out into the cold winter storm. Almost instantly, the warmth that she had gained from the café left her. Yawning quietly, she nuzzled into Adrien’s side, enjoying the heat it granted her. He leaned down to talk to her, causing his warm breath to brush against her ear, “Where are we going, Marinette?”

“Huh?” she blinked up at him slowly before her eyes widened in realization and she looked around. “O-oh, we should take a left here, and then it should be straight ahead.”

“Got it,” he murmured back at her before taking her hand in his. Her blue eyes shot open at that, looking up at him confusedly with a deep, red blush. Adrien merely shrugged at her, winking again. “I don’t want you to get lost.”

“R-right,” Marinette gulped, turning away from his glimmering eyes to look at their surroundings. Shivering as another cold snowflake hit her face, she clutched Adrien’s hand like a lifeline, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief when they finally spotted the fabric store. When they entered the building, she let go of his hand to instead point a finger at him. Ignoring the feeling of loss she felt as her hand left his warm grasp, she spoke sharply, “No peeking! I don’t want you guessing what your gift is!”

“I understand, Marinette,” Adrien chuckled, grinning down at her.

Shooting him one last suspicious glance, she turned to look at the rows of fabric in the store. Quickly, she pulled out three different colors for her friends, deciding on orange for Alya, dark green for Nino, and a bright red for Adrien. Marinette headed up to the front counter to pay for the three fabrics with a quiet, frustrated breath.

With them safely tucked into a bag and away from enquiring eyes, she looked around for Adrien. She eventually found him looking at a row of fabric, awe clear in his eyes. Clearing her throat, she stepped toward him. “Are you ready to go Adrien?”

“Yeah,” he snapped out of his daze and brought his gaze over to her before shaking his head with wonder. “I just don’t know how you do it, Marinette. How you turn this into beautiful clothes. You’re amazing.”

“O-oh thank you,” Marinette blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “I-it’s just years of practice, I guess. I was pretty bad when I started out.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Adrien said as he came over to take her hand once again. Together they walked to the front of the store. “Are we heading to the bakery now, or did you have another errand to run?”

She shook her head quickly. “N-no, I’m going home now. B-but, Adrien, you don’t have to walk me there. You’ve done a lot for me already. Seriously, thank you! I don’t want to take up the rest of your night.” “I already told you that it’s fine, Marinette. I want to make sure you get home safely. Besides, I could really go for a croissant right now,” he beamed down at her before pushing the door open. Groaning as the wind blew against her face, Marinette instantly turned to Adrien for some form of warmth. Her crush chuckled softly before murmuring, “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Her heart practically flip-flopped at that, butterflies erupting in her stomach. She glanced up at him to give him a soft smile, mouthing thank you at him. Why does he have to be so cute? It’s just not fair, she practically whined in her thoughts.

With her nestled into his side as she was, Marinette barely noticed when they finally arrived back at the bakery. She only realized she was home after Adrien leaned down to whisper to her, “We’re here.”

“We are?” She peeled an eye open that she didn’t even remember closing. Slowly, they both blinked open as she realized that they were, in fact, at the entrance to the bakery. “Oh, we are!” she exclaimed.

Adrien chuckled at her before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks for hanging out with me today Marinette. I had a great time.”

“N-no!” she stammered as she hugged him back. “Thank you for hanging out with me! I don’t think I would have made it home without you. Seriously, Adrien thank you .” Marinette leaned up on her tip-toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. Her cheeks flamed as she set back down on the ground, giving him a wide smile.

“It was no problem, really.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

“W-well at least come inside so you can warm up and I can make you that croissant you wanted.” Her smile widened into a beam as she held the door open for him.

Adrien stepped inside the bakery as she followed after him, happy butterflies dancing in her chest. I’m so glad this wasn’t a dream and I did actually stumble into Adrien! Best day ever! Maybe ... maybe I can confess to him today ...

Chewing on the edge of her lip nervously, she walked towards the boy conversing happily with her parents. He turned around to greet her when she approached with a large, beaming smile. “Hey, Marinette! Your parents made us some croissants! Do you want to head upstairs and eat them with me?”

As his head tilted at her adorably, she felt her heart thump rapidly in her chest. Sucking in a deep breath for courage, she nodded. “S-sure, Adrien. That would be great!”

“Cool!” he said with a boyish grin, taking her hand in his as he tugged her up the stairs.

Barely stifling a quiet squeak, Marinette let Adrien guide her upstairs, briefly catching a glimpse of her parents’ knowing smiles. He let go of her hand when they entered the living room, sitting on her couch and patting the spot next to him.

Giving Adrien a shy smile, she settled down by him, avoiding his glimmering, emerald green eyes. Her hands tore into her croissant as she tried to summon every last ounce of bravery she had. Come on, Marinette! You can do this! I believe in you , she thought to herself determinedly.

Turning to Adrien with one last deep gulp of air, she blurted out almost in perfect unison with him, “I have something to tell you!”

The two blinked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. In between giggles, Marinette wheezed out, “Y-you go first.”

Adrien gave a small but decisive nod before he leaned in closer to her. His eyes seemed to scan their surroundings warily before he looked back at her seriously, a hint of fear and worry dancing in his gaze. Slowly, his hand came up to cover hers, giving it a soft squeeze. Marinette gulped once nervously before he cleared his throat and stuttered out, “I-I know who you are.”

A deep frown creased her brow. “What?”

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear ! It all happened so quickly! One second I had detransformed and was about to leave when you came barreling in! And I tried to hide, really I did! I hid behind a dumpster and covered my eyes but then your kwami said your name and then I guess I just knew,” Adrien spoke quickly, his eyes searching her gaze hopefully.

Marinette sat frozen on the couch, her mouth wide open in horror. Trembling slightly, she stuttered out, “A-Adrien, I-I don’t understand. W-what are you talking about?! A kwami ... what’s that?”

“It’s okay, Marinette. You can trust me,” he said with a small, anxious smile, “Besides, I know you know what a kwami is because you were once Multimouse.”

“Multimouse,” she frowned at him, “But you weren’t... wait!”

She gasped in shock as Adrien merely nodded his head at her. “At your service, m’Lady.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot!” Marinette shrieked at him, “We’re not supposed to know our secret identities.”

“I know and I’m sorry but I mmph—!” She cut Adrien off with a passionate kiss, relaxing as he melted into their embrace.

Eventually, she pulled back, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. “That was what I wanted to tell you, by the way.”

“Wha ... huh?!” Adrien blinked down at her dumbly.

Marinette giggled shyly, rolling her eyes, “I wanted to say that I love you, Adrien. Ever since you handed me that umbrella, I’ve been yours.”

A slow, wide smile stretched across his face before he hugged her tightly to his chest. Adrien connected their lips together once more before breathing out, “I love you too, Marinette.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrinette #ml #mlb #identity reveal #reveal #adrien knows #cuddles #cuddlebug #sleepy marinette is sleepy

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bluenet13 · 3 years

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Heroes Tonight

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 911: Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Prompt: Taking the Bullet

Summary: Life is but a series of split-second decisions, and when you were born a hero, any one of them can end it all in the blink of an eye. Especially when your boyfriend is about to be shot and you don't think, just leap. Or, Carlos and T.K. should have been safe. It was only their day off. But when a convenience store robbery walks in on them, they end up in even more trouble than if they had been on shift.

Links: ff.net - AO3

"This was a really good idea," T.K. says softly, before taking another bite of his cherry ice cream, "thanks for insisting we do something special."

Carlos smiles, and squeezes the fingers that are intertwined in his. "I'm all about staying in bed all day on a day off, especially if it's with you. But every once in a while I like to go out and show the world that the prettiest boy in Texas is all mine."

"You're a dork," T.K. says, a teasing smile on his face, which quickly turns into a fake pout. "But… only in Texas? And what about the other days?"

Carlos sets his mango sorbet down and captures T.K's mouth in his, anything else that T.K. wanted to say dying on his lips, as he parts them in an invitation and deepens the kiss. Carlos' hands now on either side of his boyfriend's face, as T.K's moves his to Carlos' back and draws him close.

When they both need some air, they break the kiss and smile at each other shily. Carlos then grabs his phone and takes a selfie of the two, doing quick work of posting it to his Instagram. "There you go, now the whole world knows... Maybe we can get Marjan to reblog it so even more people know," Carlos lets out with a breathy laugh, then snickers when T.K. playfully smacks his arm. "As for other days... on those I like to show that boy how happy I'm that he chose me." Carlos again continues right from where T.K. left off, his smile only faltering for a second as he remembers a time when a failed past relationship made T.K. choose fear over him.

"I love you," T.K. breathes out, "and if you let me, I'll gladly spend the rest of my life showing you how I choose you over and over again."

"Rest of our lives," Carlos echoes wishfully, "I like the sound of that."

Carlos and T.K. share another kiss, before T.K. interrupts the moment with a chuckle. "I think the rest of our lives is going to be cut frustratingly short if we don't get out of here and to the Ryder household soon."

Seeing the time, Carlos blanches. Quickly finishing the last of his ice cream cone in one swallow, then grabbing T.K's hand and pulling them both towards the parking lot.

Carlos and T.K. had already agreed to meet the team for another 126 hangs before Carlos convinced T.K. to take advantage of the first day of summer landing on their day off to go on an adventure. So they had spent their Saturday on Zilker Park, then playing a round at Peter Pan Mini-Golf, which Carlos had insisted was a real Austin attraction and mini-golf tradition that T.K. needed to experience. Then stopping at The Range after much insistence from T.K. for Carlos to teach him how to shoot. Argument which had been going on for weeks and which Carlos had instantly metaphorically shot down as soon as T.K. tried to argue that it wasn't just for fun, since they never knew when he would be taken hostage again, and learning how to shoot could help him defend himself. At that, Carlos had mumbled that making the switch to paramedic was supposed to be safer, then told T.K. there was no way he would let him handle a gun, as he already was a trouble magnet without adding firearms into the mix. But T.K. was nothing if not stubborn, so today he had sweetly offered to drive when they left the park, and next thing Carlos knew, they were already parked in front of The Range, T.K. smiling up hopefully at him. Never able to deny his man anything, Carlos had begrudgingly agreed. And so they had spent their next two hours in the shooting range, before ending their magical day at the ice cream parlor.

That's how now Carlos and T.K. were very late. Which wouldn't be a problem if not because they were already in hot water after being no-shows at the last three team gatherings. This time, Marjan had said in no uncertain terms that they were both expected to be there or they would be forced to take a time-out every third shift. Well, that idea had come from Mateo, always the sentimental wanting to keep the band together and preserve the status quo, but Marjan and Paul had easily agreed, much to both Carlos and T.K's displeasure. Judd hadn't particularly cared either way, saying his only job was getting the house ready for the team.

-x-x-x-

"I'll be back in a sec," Carlos says, as T.K. parks the car in front of a convenience store a few blocks from Judd and Grace's house.

"I can go with you," T.K. offers, already turning the key and opening his door.

"Sure?" Carlos inquires softly, "I don't mind if you'd better just wait here."

T.K. shakes his head, shooting Carlos a confident smirk. "I'll just get some snacks while you check the fridge."

Nodding, Carlos gives T.K's hand a quick squeeze before following him out of the car. As much as Carlos always wants to protect T.K, he makes a point to remember that living normally while in proximity to alcohol is a natural part of his boyfriend's recovery.

Intertwining their fingers together, Carlos and T.K. then walk into the store, completely oblivious to the two men arguing next to their car, three spots away from theirs.

Parting in different directions, Carlos goes to pick some beer, while T.K. tries to decide which potato chips brand is better, then meeting back in the center aisle and walking together towards the front. "Wait, I forget Mateo wanted some Takis," T.K. says, cringing, then runs back to the snacks aisle.

As soon as he meets Carlos again in the center aisle, T.K. sees the six-packs discarded to the side, and turning to his boyfriend, he easily recognizes the no-nonsense posture and fiery eyes that Carlos keeps reserved for when he's on shift. But before he has a chance to ask what happened, Carlos moves his finger to his lips in the universal sign for please stay quiet and don't get us into any trouble, and grabs his hand, forcing them both to kneel, as he begins to take quiet steps back.

That's when the voices coming from the front start to filter into T.K's mind, eyes going wide as he realizes what's going on. "...quietly open the register and no one will get hurt. Speak or call for help and you won't live to say another word." A man is threatening in a hushed voice. Then there's silence, and Carlos and T.K. can only assume that whoever is tending the register is complying with the robber's demands.

When Carlos feels that they have backed away enough, he drops T.K's hand after giving it a final squeeze and reaches for the phone in his back pocket.

"We have to do something," T.K. whispers, a broom in one hand, and shovel in the other, his face scrunching as he silently tests which would make a better weapon. Because, of course, and much to Carlos' dismay, he had walked them to a mix aisle containing household, yard and other miscellaneous items.

"We're not doing anything," Carlos warns, "and drop those things!" He exhales long and slow, his hand clawing through his hair as he tries to take control of the situation. "I already messaged my boss, someone should be here any moment now."

"It will be too late, we can't let them get away," T.K. argues, "come on, you're a cop, you can't tell me you're okay with this."

Releasing a pained exhale, Carlos closes his eyes for a second. "Of course I'm not okay with this! But I'm a cop because I know what to do in these situations," he chides, "and I'm not okay with my hothead boyfriend getting hurt either. So, you're staying right where you are," he finished in a low, threatening tone.

T.K. nods and stays put, even if the fighter inside is shouting at him to do anything but that. But with Carlos here, he can't do something stupid and risk his boyfriend's life.

Those thoughts however come to mean nothing as soon as the bell above the door rattles loudly and a mother and her daughter come in, both stumbling and crying out loud as soon as a gun is pointed in their direction.

"Oh, crap," Carlos mutters, turning quickly to T.K. with a pleading look on his eyes. "Please," Carlos tries but T.K. is already crawling forward to get a better look. "T.K!" Carlos hisses but he's too late, and is forced to follow instead.

"You two, come here," the robber directs, grabbing the lady by the arm, pulling her along with the girl, who's holding on to her mother's skirt. "Just stay here, and don't try to interfere," he says, pushing them both down towards the floor, behind a hot bar full of hot dogs, taquitos and pizza slices.

With that done, the man moves back to the register and continues pulling out bills and dropping them onto a bag his partner is holding open. "Come on, man. That's more than enough. Let's go before someone else decides to crash this party." The second robber pleads, speaking for the first time. His eyes looking nervous as he moves them from the register to the front door and back again.

And as if summoned, the bell rings again, and a couple of teenagers step into the store. "Mierda!" One swears loudly as his eyes move between the two men, the cash register, and the terrified store clerk whose back is as far as it would go into the wall, his hands raised and slightly shaking.

"Marcos, vamonos," the older teenager says as he grabs his companion's hand and tries to walk back outside.

"You're not going anywhere," the first robber declares, his gun already being pointed towards the two boys, "we don't need no one calling the cops."

"We won't, we won't. Please, just let us go. My brother and I won't say anything. I promise," the teenager begs in a heavily accented voice. Then out of nowhere, he opens the door and pushes his younger brother out of the store. At the same time a shot rings out and the boy collapses in a pool of crimson.

Back in the rear of the store, the shot seems to set something loose in T.K's mind, because not two seconds later, he's turning to Carlos with an apology in his eyes. I'm sorry, T.K. mouths, then gives Carlos' hand a final squeeze, before he drops it and begins crawling towards the front of the store.

-x-x-x-

Getting to his feet, T.K. raises his hands just as the two robbers notice him for the first time. A lump making its way up his throat as he stares down the barrel of a gun. "I'm a paramedic, I can help. Let me..." he begins to say, but his words are cut short as the gun is pressed directly to his temple.

"And where did you come from," the man asks, "is there anyone else here?"

"No, I was alone, hiding in the back," T.K. explains, releasing a relieved breath as both he and the man with the gun scan the area where he came from but come out empty. "Please, let me help him. He's going to bleed out," T.K. tries again, pointing with his chin towards the teenager.

"Go! But I don't want any more surprises or I'll shoot you both," the man angrily concedes.

"I need a first aid kit," T.K. says. "Please," he adds as an afterthought, because he's open to being polite to the man threatening him with a gun, if it can potentially stop him from getting shot, again.

After getting a nod from the man, the store clerk lowers his hands for the first time, reaching down towards the counter and grabbing a small red bag that he throws to T.K, before raising his hands again just as quickly.

Catching the bag, T.K. wastes no time. Just barely acknowledging the robbers with a clipped thank you, before rushing to the boy and kneeling next to him. By now the boy is unconscious, his wound bleeding freely. Not ideal, but T.K. honestly thinks it's a small mercy as he roughly pushes gauze into the opening. After the wound is packed, T.K. curses to himself when he sees there's no chest seal or sterile medical plastic on the kit. Reaching for his wallet, he instead grabs his credit card, and carefully places it over the hole, then uses some medical tape to hold it in place, doing his best to form an airtight seal on the wound to keep air from being sucked into the wound and preventing the lung from collapsing, while also making sure to leave a small opening to let out air.

With that done, T.K. turns back to the robbers, wondering why the hell they're still here and where the damn cops are, when the boy starts to stir, mumbling in pain. Wishing he could switch places with Carlos, T.K. tries his best to keep him calm, whispering whatever comforting word he can think of in Spanish and promising that his brother is safe. Absentmindedly, T.K. also wonders where Carlos is cause he hasn't heard a single sound coming from the back.

Turning to the rear of the store, T.K. tries to find any sign of his boyfriend, but instead he notices the reflection of blue and red lights bouncing off a potato chips display. Keeping any expression from his eyes and his breathing even and calm, T.K. turns to the door, trying to understand what's happening outside.

Seeing cops beginning to get close, weapons and shields at the ready, T.K. carefully starts to pull the boy towards the first aisle and away from the front of the door so he doesn't get trampled down.

"What are you doing?" One of the men asks, as he and his partner begin to walk towards the door, eyes going wide as they see what T.K. just saw. "Did you call the cops? Or maybe it was that damn brother of yours," he all but shouts, gun going up as his finger tightens on the trigger.

Not knowing what else to do, T.K. raises to his feet and stands protectively in front of the boy, his lips parting as he tries to form words, but before he settles on anything in particular, a voice booms from outside, no doubt amplified by a megaphone.

As a man, who T.K. assumes is commander of S.W.A.T, or whoever came to negotiate their release, asks the men to turn themselves in before anyone gets hurt, the one who's clearly the leader swears loudly, as he begins to take steps back. Then when he feels far away enough from danger, he begins to pace, his gun moving widely along with his thoughts and words.

A telephone ringing is the only thing that stops the pacing, as the man angrily grabs it and starts shouting demands. Not smart, T.K. knows but what can he expect from two guys that took like 20 minutes to rob a convenience store. Not able to hear the other end of the call, T.K. just sighs as the robber asks for a car with a full tank, and for the cops to leave so they can drive away, threatening to shoot everyone if his demands are not met, before he throws the phone into a wall, the device breaking on impact.

Knowing there's no way out now, the firefighter turned paramedic tries to add his two cents in an attempt to get everyone safely out of this situation. "Come on, man. Think this through. The cops are already here, they won't just let you go. Turn yourselves in and I can say this was just a big misunderstanding." T.K. has no idea how he would do that, but he can only hope the men are dumb enough to believe his empty promise.

"But we shot someone," the second man whispers, voice shaking. "There's nothing you can say that would justify that."

What a surprise, the one not in charge is actually the smart one, T.K. thinks and chuckles inwardly. "That's okay. He just came in too quickly and scared you guys. We can explain that to the cops," T.K. tries his best to sound convincing.

Seeing the leader drop the gun to his side, T.K. has a second to think that his words must be sinking in and they will turn themselves in. But there's a reason why he's a firefighter and paramedic, and not a cop. Because next he knows he hears someone shout his name, just as the gun is lifted again and a single shot resonates all around him. Everything happening before he even saw it coming.

T.K. waits for the remembered pain, but it never comes. Instead his mind barely recognizes the voice of his boyfriend as the one who screamed his name, just as the man in question lands on the floor in front of him. Blood already beginning to pool under him.

As soon as T.K's mind comprehends that Carlos just jumped in front of a bullet for him, he tries to run to his side, but the robber is now standing in front of him and as soon as T.K. moves he swings the gun hard against his temple. Stunned, T.K. stumbles backward as tears cloud his vision, and he can only wonder if they're because of the hit or due to the fact his boyfriend just got shot.

Feeling like he has nothing left to lose now, and throwing what's left of his self-preservation out the window, T.K. launches himself forward, tackling the man. Both paramedic and bad guy land hard on the floor and instantly begin to struggle against each other as they fight for control of the one weapon. The robber manages to land the first hit, punching T.K. on the face, but he just shakes his head and swings, connecting with the man's nose and feeling it break on impact. Taking advantage of his bit of good fortune stunning his assailant, T.K. takes hold of the gun and raises to hit feet, backing away from the offender on the ground.

Trying to remember everything Carlos taught him earlier today, T.K. sets his feet down and squares his shoulders as he points the gun at the man who just shot his boyfriend. But before he can cock the gun or even really think about pressing the trigger, T.K. instead disassembles the weapon and throws it to the ground. Not only because his oath says that he's supposed to save people, not be judge and executioner, but because T.K. knows Carlos would never want him to hurt someone on his behalf.

Fight over with and save for the time being, T.K. stands paralyzed as he stares down at Carlos, bleeding out on a dirty store floor in front of him, after being shot with a bullet meant for him.

-x-x-x-

As T.K. took care of the injured teenager, Carlos had stayed hidden in the back. Grateful that his boyfriend was just working quietly and not doing anything special to put himself in even greater danger.

Keeping an eye out on T.K. and the robbers, Carlos had text his boss as the men continued to wipe the cash register clean, moving then to the mother's purse. He had done his best to keep calm as he shared with his boss the internal layout of the store, and information on the number of people inside and where everyone was located. But when the commander of S.W.A.T had started making demands, which were only followed by the leader of the pair making even more demands over the phone, Carlos realized he had seen many stories like this before. And rarely, did any of them end peacefully.

Knowing the men wouldn't voluntarily give themselves up, and not wanting his worst fears to come true, Carlos had begun to crawl forward. Luckily T.K. had been focused on the man with the gun and the injured boy, and the man with the gun on T.K. and the cops, so no one had noticed Carlos getting closer.

When T.K. had started trying to plead with the men to turn themselves in, Carlos had the sudden urge to kill his boyfriend himself. But then T.K. seemed to be gaining ground so he allowed himself a brief smile. Before his cop training kicked in and Carlos recognized the man was not accepting defeat, but preparing to go out in a blaze of glory.

And suddenly Carlos knows what is about to happen. And what he has to do.

"T.K!" Carlos shouts, at the same time as he closes his eyes and leaps.

The pain is instantaneous as Carlos collapses to the floor. Darkness already nudging at the edges of his vision.

With all his energy being used on just being able to take one breath after the other, Carlos barely notices the robber walking towards T.K. before the man is raising his gun and Carlos stops breathing altogether when he thinks he's about to shoot at T.K. again and this time he can't do anything to protect him. But the man just pistol whips T.K, forcing Carlos to release a nervous exhale. Because another hit to the head is not ideal, but definitely better than the alternative.

But then Carlos gets another urge to shoot T.K. himself, because his boyfriend launches himself against the robber and they begin to struggle on the ground. And before Carlos can even try to get up and help, T.K. is standing and pointing the gun at the man, making Carlos curse silently because why did he teach him how to shoot. But T.K. being T.K. never disappoints him, and does what Carlos himself would have done, then seems to lose the remaining of his energy and just stumbles and stares at Carlos with teary, guilt-ridden eyes.

Just then the doors to the store burst open and the scene around them turns to full-blown chaos as cops and paramedics rush inside. Doing his best to ignore everything going around him, Carlos focuses solely on T.K, because he can feel a lot of blood pooling below him and if he's about to die he wants his boyfriend to be the last sight he sees. So, doing his best to clear his eyes, Carlos shakes his head and looks up, smiling at T.K. who just dropped to his knees beside him.

Carlos parts his lips to try to say something to his boyfriend, but he's not listening. "No, no, no," T.K is saying over and over again, his already blood stained hands going to Carlos' chest as he tries to stop the flow of the blood which has already soaked his shirt.

Talking off his flannel, T.K. pushes it into the wound on Carlo's chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but I need to stop the bleeding," T.K. soothes when Carlos grunts and tries to move away. "Damn it! Why is this blood not stopping?" Discarding the saturated shirt to the side, T.K. uses his own hands again, blood seeping through his fingers.

"T.K, it's okay," Carlos tries to say, but stops as he coughs and chokes on a mouthful of blood. "Please stop and look at me," Carlos whispers as T.K. continues trying to stop the bleeding, so he weakly raises a hand and catches T.K's, intertwining their fingers together. "Whatever happens, everything... everything will be okay," Carlos promises, even as more blood trickles down his mouth, "you'll be okay. I love you, T.K."

"No, no, no!" T.K. continues his chant, tears sliding down his face as he desperately shakes his head. "Please, Carlos…"

"I'm sorry," Carlos says with a pained gasp, weakly reaching out with one hand and running it through T.K's hair, stopping on the bruise already beginning on his temple and stroking softly. By now he can hear muffled voices around him but can't make out any words and he knows that he's fading. Then he sees T.K's lips moving and desperately tries to read the meaning behind his words, but his eyes are closing and he's just so tired. When his lids finally close, Carlos can see unshed tears pressing against them, but instead he chooses to focus on the last image he saw. That of two cops grabbing T.K. by the arms and pulling him from Carlos, his boyfriend's teary eyes pleading, as T.K. begged him to hang on and open his eyes.

-x-x-x-

The door opening behind him and a multitude of emergency personnel rushing inside, springs T.K. back into action.

Forgetting all about the boy whose life he just saved, and ignoring the cops and paramedics around him, T.K's only focus is the man bleeding in front of him. He drops to his knees, doing his best to ignore Carlos' attempts to talk, because it sounds suspiciously like his boyfriend wants to say goodbye and he's not ready for that, instead he concentrates on using his shirt, then his hands, as he tries to stop the bleeding. As Carlos grunts, T.K. does his best to push his guilt down, hating that he's hurting him but willing to do whatever is necessary to save his life.

As Carlos continues trying to call his attention, T.K. can only continue his chant and work because if he stops to listen he knows he will break down, and that is not going to help Carlos. But then his boyfriend grabs his hand and squeezes weakly, and T.K. crumbles. Because Carlos' tear-streaked face is looking directly at him, and there's blood on his lips, and he is obviously dying.

But Carlos can't die so T.K. shakes his head and continues to chant, "no, no, no!" His words, a plea for anyone willing to listen. Then he pleads to the man himself but T.K. can see Carlos' eyes are beginning to close and then he's apologizing. Carlos' hand softly caressing his boyfriend's hair, because even when he is bleeding out, Carlos is still more worried about T.K.

As Carlos goes silent, T.K realizes someone else is talking to him, and there are also people kneeling to his side, and someone is grabbing his arm from behind, but he does his best to ignore it all. "I love you, too," he whispers instead, because he didn't say it back and if this is Carlos' last moment, then T.K. needs to make sure he knows. But he doesn't think Carlos understands because he scrunches his face in confusion before his eyes finally slip shut. "Carlos, please, you can't do this to me, to us… please fight… Please, open your eyes." T.K chokes on his own sobs, and then he's being pulled away from Carlos, two sets of hands grabbing him from behind.

"Son, please. Let the paramedics work. And they need to check you out too," a cop, who is not Carlos, but might be his boss, T.K. can't really remember, is saying to him. "That's a lot of blood."

With that comment, T.K. looks down at himself, his stomach threatening to revolt at the sight, but he pushes it down and shakes his head. "It's not mine," he mumbles, pushing away from everyone. He stumbles backwards, almost collapsing, but steadies himself on the same potato chips' display that first alerted him to the cops' presence. If only he hadn't seen them and tried to play hero.

Feeling his anger and guilt begin to overpower him, T.K. uses the last of his strength and swings his arm hard against the display. The sudden movement makes him feel lightheaded, and for the first time, T.K. notices the nausea and headache. Blinking his eyes a few times, he lifts his hand and touches his temple and winces, then frowns when he sees his fingers covered in wet blood. But he focuses on the dried crimson staining his fingers, and suddenly T.K. is stumbling to the back of the store where he remembers seeing a bathroom and standing in front of a run-down sink as he roughly rubs his hands, trying to get the blood, Carlos' blood, out of his skin.

After his hands are as clean as they will be with just water, T.K. stares at himself in the mirror, absentmindedly wondering if the cop had been talking about the blood on his clothes, which is undoubtedly the boy's and Carlos', or about the one that he now sees flowing down the side of his face. Not particularly caring about the answer, T.K. feels the need to strip off his clothes because he just can't keep seeing all this blood that should be inside Carlos' body. But shaking his head, he just sighs and exits the bathroom instead.

As soon as he's back in the front of the store, T.K's stomach drops as he notices the amount of blood on the ground, then the absence of one of the men whose it belonged to, but before he can ask, he sees the stretcher being pushed into a waiting ambulance. T.K. tries to run outside to follow, but with his adrenaline fading, and all his discomforts finally making themselves known, he just swings wildly as his vision dims and he feels arms pulling him down into a stretcher.

"No," T.K whispers, struggling to get up. "I'm going with him. You can treat me in the ambulance... or I can wait until we get to the hospital. Just save Carlos, please," he begs, voice breaking at the end.

The paramedics prepare to argue, but a voice T.K. only heard once but still would recognize anywhere, speaks next to them. "Let him go." Steadying himself on the stretcher, T.K. turns to find Gabriel Reyes staring back at him. "Let him ride with his boyfriend."

"Thank you, sir," T.K. says, then wastes no time and climbs into the ambulance, sitting on a bench next to the stretcher and instantly taking one of Carlos' hands in his.

"Just take good care of my son. I will be by the hospital as soon as we're done here." And by done here, T.K. knows Mr. Reyes means making sure everyone remotely at fault for what happened to his son is sitting in a cell, without any possibility of parole. So he just nods, before the double doors of the ambulance are closed, cutting any further conversation short.

And whatever happens next at the convenience store is lost to both T.K. and Carlos as their magical day ends with another trip to Dell Seton Medical Center.

-x-x-x-

Opening his eyes, Carlos' first conscious thought is asking himself why everything hurts. He then tries to move his hand to rub his tired eyes, but finds an IV there and decides to leave it alone. Trying to move his other hand, Carlos sees no IV or tubing, but his hand still feels glued to the bed, so he turns his eyes downward and sees another hand attached to his, their fingers intertwined together. Following it to its owner, Carlos sees T.K. slumped on a very uncomfortable-looking chair next to him. The sight steals his breath away for a moment, as all the memories of the last day come crashing down on him.

So, Carlos' second conscious thought is wondering how he can still be alive when there was so much blood. Maybe this is all a cruel dream and I'm still in surgery, Carlos thinks, but as soon as his eyes land on his boyfriend again, seeing him unharmed except for a white bandage on his head and brace on his other hand, Carlos pleads with whoever is listening for this to be real. Because if T.K. is okay, nothing else matters.

There's no third conscious thought, as the pull of whatever drugs they're giving him is too strong and Carlos drifts back to sleep. But not before he squeezes T.K's hand, and softly promises that he will see him soon.

-x-x-x-

One of the next times Carlos wakes up, he quickly notices there's no hand in his, instead T.K. is lying on the bed next to him, one of his hands under his head holding it up, the other one carefully set on top of Carlos' chest, as his eyes focus on the rise and fall that tells him Carlos is still alive.

Wanting a moment to take it all in, Carlos says nothing and just stares at his boyfriend, thanking their lucky stars because they're both okay. A few seconds later, still saying nothing, Carlos just moves his free hand and sets it over T.K's, intertwining their fingers from above.

Turning away from their joined hands, T.K lets out a small squeak, tho later he would argue it was only a gasp, then looks up and smiles at Carlos. "Hey babe, glad to see you awake," he says softly, "you really scared me today."

Carlos begins to say something, but his dry throat makes it hard to talk and he ends up coughing instead.

"Here, don't talk yet." T.K. quickly turns to a table next to the bed and grabs a cup of water, setting the straw in front of Carlos so he can drink easily. "Go slow."

Carlos drinks a few, tiny sips, letting the cold water soothe his throat and waits a moment before he tries to speak again. "Thank you."

"Anytime," T.K. whispers, then turns back to the bed and gets closer so he can kiss Carlos' forehead. His lips lingering above as his eyes look down on him with as much guilt and pain as Carlos as ever seen there.

"I'm sorry I scared you, but you also scared me a lot," Carlos admits, barely stifling a grunt as he slowly lifts his head to press a kiss to T.K's lips. "And I'm also glad you're okay."

"You shouldn't have done that," T.K. mumbles, lowering himself back onto the bed as he continues to stare at his boyfriend, as if trying to convince himself that he really is okay. "When you said I wasn't allowed to get shot again, that didn't mean you could just jump in front of a bullet meant for me." With that admission, his eyes glaze over and he squeezes them shut to stop any tears from falling.

"I'm sorry, T.K, but I couldn't just do nothing and see you get shot right in front of me," Carlos says honestly, even when he knows his action forced T.K. to do just that but still not regretting his decision. "Besides, at the moment, I didn't think, I just did."

"That's not how this works..." T.K. begins, but Carlos cuts him short.

"This works however way it ends with both of us alive at the end of the day," Carlos finishes for him.

T.K. opens his mouth to say Carlos didn't know that would happen when he took that bullet for him, that he could have died, but honestly, he doesn't think it matters. Because T.K. would have done the same thing for Carlos, and they both know it. So why delve on it now.

"Thank you," T.K. says instead, "and sorry for also worrying you. I just couldn't let the boy die."

"You saved his life… both our lives," Carlos says proudly, "a doctor came before, the boy is okay. His brother also. He stayed outside and helped explain things to the cops when they got there," he answers the unspoken question on T.K's eyes.

T.K just nods, the events of the day still too fresh for him to say much. So Carlos and T.K. just fall into silence for the next few minutes, eyes locked on each other but no words being exchanged.

Raising his hand, Carlos runs it through T.K's hair, stopping when he reaches the white bandage. "You okay?" He asks softly, breaking the silence in the room.

"You just spent four hours in surgery to fix a hole in your chest and you're asking if I'm okay?" T.K. wonders incredulously.

"I will always worry about you," Carlos says sincerely, "and… I'm very high on painkillers, I can see you're not."

Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, T.K's sighs, for once wishing Carlos didn't know him so well. "I'm okay, or I will be. They offered some OTC painkillers but you know I'd rather not."

"Okay," Carlos says simply. He wishes he could do something to alleviate T.K's pain but he knows he can't. This battle is something T.K. always undertakes alone, but as every other time, he will just be here to hold his hand while he toughs it out. "Come here," he says, pulling T.K to him and running his fingers soothingly over his scalp.

Sighing, T.K carefully rests his head over Carlos' shoulder, mindful of all the wires and tubes around him. "Next time we're not going out, and just staying in bed all day, just like this," he says with a breathy laugh, his eyes beginning to slide shut as feelings of content and relief overtake him.

"And next time you guys don't want to hang out with the team you can just say so, no need to be all dramatic and get yourselves shot and concussed again," a voice says from the door and both Carlos and T.K. groan when they see Marjan, Paul, Mateo and Judd standing by the door, no doubt with Owen and Gabriel closed behind… Both cop and paramedic wondering if it's too late to close their eyes and just fake sleep.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfiction #bad things happen bingo #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes

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andipxndy-writes · 3 years

Text

the coffee shop

fandom: alex rider warnings: none requested by: @zixylixy word count: 9.8k

cross-posted to ao3

summary: You knew you should've stayed in bed the moment your coffee went all over your front. Still... that meant you met someone unique, someone different. Someone who was becoming special to you. And if you were being completely honest, now that you were thinking back on it, you wouldn't have it any other way.

the coffee shop

You knew you should’ve stayed in bed that morning the moment your coffee went all over your front.

To be fair, up until that point your morning hadn’t gone too badly. You’d woken up, been tempted to stay in bed for a few hours longer, and then realised you had emails to answer and paperwork to do for work. Granted, you were working from home, so there was no rush to actually complete the work you’d been assigned until the end of the working day, but it was nice to get it all done in the morning. Then the rest of your day was free.

And that was what ended up happening. As soon as you’d got up and ready for the day, you managed to get your work done pretty quickly. All it took was a handful of hours of properly focusing, and you could get everything you needed to do done quickly enough.

Plenty of time for you to do things for yourself.

Of course, doing things for yourself wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when you finished work for the day. First of all there was the dishes (which took all of five minutes), and then the washing (which took a little longer, but you had that all in in half an hour), and then there was the general cleaning of the house that you hadn’t managed to get to last weekend (which definitely took closer to a couple of hours, maybe more). By the time you were done with all of that, it was the middle of the afternoon.

You thought it was about time to actually treat yourself.

So at about three in the afternoon, you had your little backpack packed with your notebook, laptop and a book, ready to keep yourself entertained with a coffee at your favourite local coffee shop. Just to wind down, maybe get back into that reading and writing groove again.

Except, when you got to your favourite local coffee shop, it was filled. Somehow, and you didn’t know how, the place had become everyone’s favourite place to visit in the late afternoon. Which meant that you couldn’t find anywhere to sit. In fact, the knowledge that someone was sitting in your favourite spot on their own and was casually scrolling through their phone was what irked you the most, and it made you very hesitant to leave the place. A small part of you even wanted to kick them out of the seat. But it was crammed, and you didn’t particularly like being around so many people anyway.

So you left. You knew where the nearest Starbucks was, and you also knew that it wasn’t too far to get to, so it would have to do. For once.

(Last time you’d gone there, with the absolute crowding and mess that went on there, you vowed to never go again. But the nearest Costa was too far to walk and the nearest Cafe Nero was even further. So it would have to do.)

As you got your coffee, you had to mentally remind yourself that just because Starbucks was mainstream didn’t mean that the coffee was any worse than what you usually got at your favourite spot. Perhaps the baristas here were decent, and the coffee had to be drinkable for people to regularly get drinks there.

When you took your coffee and sipped on it, your brain and taste buds helpfully reminded you that the coffee was worse, and tasted pretty cheap and generic, but you were going to have to deal. Because the next best places were further out and you couldn’t be bothered to walk that far.

The only other downside to Starbucks was because it was so popular and so mainstream, it also didn’t have any space for you to sit. Luckily, you were less bothered about this, and had been prepared for such an eventuality, so you were heading out to go to the local park – there were some picnic benches there that you could sit on and use to relax whilst you had your coffee, and the day was nice enough that it made sitting outside with your hot beverage and a good book worth it.

Your plans were ruined the moment you stepped through the open doorway.

“Hey!” you cried as your cup smacked into your front and emptied out over your jumper and jeans. As much as you didn’t care about the coffee, you did care about what you were wearing. You just so happened to be wearing your favourite outfit that day.

You were not impressed.

“Hey, I–oh my god I’m so sorry.”

The person who had crashed into you was tall, with fair hair and plain brown eyes. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him, really. Apart from his sharp jawline. And handsome features.

Nope, nothing remarkable about him at all.

Shaking out your hands to get off the hot coffee before trying to peel your clothing from your skin so that it didn’t keep burning you, you huffed, scowling. One small part of your brain decided to remind you that you were glad to be rid of that horrible coffee, but you hadn’t exactly wanted it on you instead.

“I’m so sorry, let me buy you another coffee.”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow at the offer. You were currently covered in coffee, sticky and wet, and standing on the pavement in front of your least-favourite coffee shop.

Another coffee wasn’t going to cut it, and you made sure your face said exactly that.

“I need to change,” you muttered, more to yourself than the man in front of you as you looked back at your clothes. “This was my fave… god, I need to do another wash…”

You spared the man a glance out of the corner of your eye. The guy looked a little awkward now, hearing you ramble to yourself, and a small part of you was satisfied in knowing you’d made a grown man feel awkward about not watching where he was going. You didn’t tend to do that often, but when you did it was incredibly satisfying.

“I’m sorry, truly. I’ll buy you another jumper. And a coffee.”

Another jumper and a coffee? Was this man desperate for your forgiveness or something? You looked up at him properly, narrowing your eyes at him.

He offered a nervous smile in return.

The smile melted your scowl.

“I’ll take the coffee,” you mumbled in response, giving a sigh of resignation. “But after I’ve changed, god. I’m not sitting around in coffee-stained clothes.” Your clothes felt hot now, but they were definitely going to get colder and stickier, and that was going to get very uncomfortable. Before he could speak again, you held up a hand to silence him. “I live a ten minute walk away. You can wait for me right here. Right here. Don’t move.”

You didn’t realise how serious the guy was about getting you coffee (and a new jumper, you supposed) when, after you returned in a fresh change of clothes, he was still standing right there waiting for you.

***

There were a few things you learned from that coffee you had with the guy who’d crashed into you. Firstly, and most importantly, you found out that he wasn’t a fan of Starbucks either, and somehow managed to get you both into your favourite coffee shop when you told him about the spot. With seats in your favourite spot.

He’d laughed when you vowed to love him forever.

The second thing you learned was that his name was Alex. You introduced yourself too, of course, but he seemed more than a little reluctant to tell you his surname. You didn’t mind, of course, but that meant that you insisted on being given the same courtesy – first names only, no surnames allowed. And from the way he nodded, it seemed to be a good enough agreement for him.

The third thing you learnt was that Alex was actually single, and had been on his way to meet someone when he’d crashed into you. He then insisted that your impromptu “date” was a lot better than what he’d originally planned to go to. It made you curious about the person he’d been going to meet, definitely, and why he was so willing to ditch them for someone such as yourself – especially when he’d only just met you.

Well, what you two had done hadn’t been a date, exactly, considering it felt more like two friends catching up. Or two friends meeting for the first time. But you realised you’d enjoyed it like one, and the two of you exchanged social media handles before parting ways: you suggested Twitter, he gave you his Insta, and both of you laughed when you realised you had Tumblr.

Neither of you shared your Tumblr usernames.

And then that was it. You pretty much forgot about the guy – any thoughts of him were lost amidst all of the work you were suddenly bombarded with (which you didn’t appreciate at all, and you were frankly disappointed in your boss for) and you were barely even given the chance to breathe.

It made you miss your writing.

That was why, when you got your next batch of free time (and told your boss that under absolutely no circumstances was he to send you more work to do) you packed up your bag with your usual notebook and stationary set and headed down to the nearest park. Since that last time you’d tried to get coffee, you hadn’t even attempted to get out of the house and do some writing on your own. You figured today would be a good day to go out and get some writing done, as well as get some fresh air.

Taking one look outside, though, you realised it was gradually getting darker, and one look at the clock told you it would probably get dark within the next couple of hours. Knowing your habits, it would be dark long before you finished wanting to write.

Perhaps the nearest university library would be best. You still had a membership card for it, anyway.

It took you about ten minutes to get out of the house with everything you needed, and then you were walking towards the library. Your favourite coffee shop was on the way there, so you decided it would be a good idea to stop by the coffee shop and grab something to drink at the library. You had your travel mug with you anyway, and it wasn’t as if the library refused to let people drink in there all the time.

Students practically lived in there anyway. They had to keep themselves alive somehow.

Just as you were walking into the coffee shop, you realised it was pretty quiet inside… but very noisy outside. Not noisy in the sense that there were lots of people walking about, oh no. It was noisy because there was something more than a little hectic happening on the street that ran by the coffee shop. Cars were speeding past, bikes were speeding past. The only thing that didn’t speed past was an ambulance, which (considering the speed those vehicles were moving about) concerned you greatly.

Still, you managed to tell yourself that this wasn’t your issue and you moved on, not even looking back over your shoulder to see what was going on. The distractions would hold you back, and it was getting later and later. You wanted your coffee and your spot in the library.

It wasn’t until you’d grabbed your coffee and were about to head out that you saw a bike – a battered, wobbly motorbike – pull up outside the cafe. It was a no-parking zone out on that part of the street, and you knew this, but you weren’t going to be the one to warn the person about it when the owner was probably out back watching on a security camera or something. They could suffer from that earful themselves.

The rider got off the bike, stumbling a little bit as they got used to being back on their own two feet, before pulling off their helmet. That was when you realised two things.

One, you’d seen that bike before. It had been brief, yes, but that bike had definitely been part of that whole commotion that had gone on outside whilst you’d been walking. You were absolutely sure of it. In fact, you were pretty sure it had been near the front of whatever had gone on, and had been the main one speeding. Which was more than a little concerning, considering it had now stopped outside of the cafe.

Two, you recognised the person as soon as their helmet came off. You didn’t know exactly why you managed to recognise them so quickly, but you hadn’t managed to see them for a while. Not since you’d first met.

It was Alex.

You stood frozen in place, surprised that after so long you were finally seeing him again. It was… strange, to say the least.

He paused himself, standing sort of lopsided as though he was supporting himself with one leg mostly. He was also seemingly surprised to see you, and then he gave you a half-smile. You got a feeling that he actually did kind of remember you, though you didn’t quite know what would really encourage him to do that.

Then you remembered how you first met, and it all made sense.

“Hello,” he finally greeted once he was close enough to you.

You simply took a sip of your coffee, staring him in the eyes. You didn’t know why exactly you did that – maybe it was a reminder of how he didn’t have to make you spill your coffee all over yourself to get your attention. “Hi.”

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, him watching you drink your hot beverage, and then he finally decided to speak.

“Do you want to sit in here and talk for a bit? We should catch up, right?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Catch up? That was definitely very… forward of him. “We barely even know each other.”

“Then we can get to know each other more.”

You were so tempted to give in and point out how forward that seemed. After all, this was only the second time you were meeting in person. Granted, you’d seemed to get on pretty well the first time you’d met, but that didn’t mean you’d get along this time… did it? But, of course, you knew you were better than that and that you weren’t the type of person to call someone out when you barely knew them.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m not staying here.”

“Then I’ll grab a drink and join you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Be quick, then.” It didn’t seem as though you were going to get much writing done today either, and it was this guy’s fault.

Again.

***

After that second meeting, where he managed to successfully crash your library writing time and instead had you both sitting in the nearest park chatting over coffee, you began to spend significantly more time getting to know and hanging out with each other. Less than a week after you’d met, you received a message to your Insta from him, and the two of you ended up striking up a conversation via direct messaging that got incredibly long and in-depth, about anything and everything that came to mind. It got to a point where you looked forward to getting responses from him, whether the topic had switched to politics or reading or hobbies. You hadn’t yet decided to tell him that you enjoyed creative writing – in fact, you weren’t even sure you were ever going to tell him, because that was a very private part of who you were – but you spoke about enough other hobbies that you realised you had a wide range of hobbies and skills between you both. There were even some that you shared, whilst others seemed a lot more… obscure on his end. (You certainly hadn’t been scuba diving before.)

Anyway, with the increased conversation came the increased chance to meet up, but every time you planned to meet up for another coffee at your favourite spot something came up. And you meant every time. Whether it was work pushing you again and forcing you to work beyond business hours, or Alex having to cancel for some reason or other (that he often didn’t tell you), everything you organised didn’t work out. It sucked, really. Especially since you seemed to spend more and more time at the coffee shop as the weather changed, whether it was because you were writing or because you wanted a change of scenery to get your work done as best you could.

Well, it sucked until, finally, someone decided to take it into their own hands.

Hint: it wasn’t you.

At the time, you didn’t know why Alex had asked for your address, and you didn’t know why you’d so willingly given it over either. But it wasn’t as though you were particularly worried about him knowing it. He was a decent enough guy, and if he wanted to get you stuff and have it delivered to your doorstep then you weren’t going to complain about it. If he decided to kidnap you instead, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t have a problem with that either. Considering how boring your life had become, you’d probably thank him for it.

You didn’t, however, expect him to turn up on your doorstep, bags of what definitely smelled like your favourite takeout in his hands. You tried not to let your jaw drop too dramatically.

You’d only ever mentioned your favourite takeout once, in passing conversation. How did he even remember that?

“Hi.” His greeting sounded almost suave, as though him going out and getting your favourite takeout after a good while of not seeing each other in person just to have dinner at your place was perfectly normal.

And not… weirdly kind, or borderline romantic.

“Hi,” you responded in an almost hesitant tone, watching him warily for a few moments.

He stood there with the takeout still in his hands, but he didn’t look awkward at all. Not one bit. If anything, he looked like he’d done this too many times before to be doing it again with you.

It made you curious.

“So… are you going to let me in?” The question was asked in a sarcastic drawl, not unlike the one you heard in your head whenever you read messages from him that came as a response to something funny you said, and it made you smile. The wariness and hesitation about him being there melted away immediately.

“I guess I am,” you chirped back, before standing aside and letting him walk past. As he passed you, you couldn’t help but notice he was wearing cologne – maybe he was walking closer to you this time than he usually did, but you could smell it.

And it smelled pretty nice.

You held yourself back from mentioning anything, though.

Soon enough, the two of you were sitting at your small dining table, usually intended for one but actually catering to two tonight, with the takeaway on the table between you both. You couldn’t remember being particularly hungry when Alex arrived, but as soon as you both sat down at the table and Alex began to unload everything ready for you to eat, your stomach decided to announce that it was empty and you were famished. Alex only cracked a grin at the sound your stomach made, and you had to try hard not to let your cheeks heat up in response.

“It’s not funny.”

“Of course it isn’t.” He opened up the food, and the smell was absolutely heavenly. “It’s an indication of how hungry you are. That’s all.”

“Exactly.” And then your eyes narrowed at him. “Are you mocking me?”

He simply replied with a grin as he finished dishing out plates for you both. His lack of an answer was just as good as a confirmation, in your opinion, and you scowled at him playfully as you picked up your cutlery.

You would have to forgive him begrudgingly, if only because he brought you food. And good food at that.

Your meal was pretty nice, you had to admit. The conversations you had were varied, as they usually were, and somehow Alex managed to bring up almost everything that you could have talked about – from politics to art, and science to TV. Even you had to admit that the conversation was a lot more interesting than it usually was, and even if you didn’t share the same opinion on some things, it wasn’t so different that you immediately hated each other and broke off your friendship.

Yes, because that was what it was. Friendship.

You were just friends with this hot guy.

…Your mother was going to have words with you when she found out about this.

By the time you finally looked at the clock, you had both finished dinner a while back and were just sitting at the table, chatting. At some point, you’d popped into the kitchen and made hot beverages for both of you – a tea for him, and a hot chocolate for yourself.

The clock, of course, was almost at midnight. Your eye twitched.

You had work tomorrow.

Alex followed your gaze to the clock, his own eyebrows rising. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit indeed.” You looked down into your mug and, finding it was empty, pouted a little. There was nothing there to keep you two talking other than a desire to continue the conversation, and it wasn’t as if you could tell your boss that you were tired because you just wanted to chat with a friend. “I guess we’ve got to finish off, huh?”

That was all it took for both of you to start clearing up, and by the time all of the dishes were washed and everything was put away it was well past midnight. It wasn’t as if washing up was going to go smoothly when the two of you could easily have chatted the night away. In fact, it was almost one in the morning when you and Alex finally made it to your front door, you leaning on the door frame as he stood just beyond your doorway.

It took you almost ten minutes to actually say goodbye.

“Message when you get home,” you called out as he turned to head down the corridor. He gave half a wave over his shoulder, smiling back at you, and you waited until he’d completely disappeared from sight before closing the door, leaning against it with a frown.

Why were you so determined to make sure Alex was safe?

And why, why, did you all of a sudden latch onto just how attractive Alex was?

***

From then on, dinner seemed to happen on a pretty regular basis. Somehow you managed to pry Alex’s home address from his lips, and sometimes you got what you worked out was his favourite takeaway and headed over to his place, surprising him with dinner and a chat. One time, you were pretty sure you walked in whilst he had someone else over – a dark-haired woman, pretty with freckles and blue eyes. She only looked between the two of you before leaving, a smirk on her face, and you narrowed your eyes at Alex until he admitted that she was a childhood friend that he was (somehow) still close to.

You met her a couple more times. She was nice.

But not as nice as Alex’s oldest and longest best friend. He was a riot.

The first time you met him, Alex came over bringing dinner with a scowl on his face. Before you could even ask what was wrong, a smaller, wiry guy burst in with a huge grin on his face. He, of course, immediately struck you as a troublemaker.

You just didn’t know how much of a troublemaker he was.

He spent most of your dinner recounting stories from when Alex was a teen, all the stupid and reckless things that Alex had done that you were pretty sure would have got him into very big trouble if any sort of adult had found out, and you ended up spending most of the dinner laughing as Alex rolled his eyes and tried to correct him or defend his actions. You didn’t really have an opinion on much of what Alex did (that was a lie, you thought he was totally reckless and stupid), but you found it funny watching him squirm and get defensive, and he was fun to poke. This was a side of Alex you hadn’t really seen before.

You liked it.

It wasn’t until the end of the evening that you found out that Alex’s friend’s name was actually Tom Harris. You didn’t know how you’d managed to go that whole evening without finding out his name, but you had.

The next morning, the first thing you did was send him a friend request on Facebook. By the end of the day, you had him on all possible social media platforms and were sending each other all of your favourite memes.

Your favourite meal by far, though, was the one that stuck most in your memory. It would always stick the most in your memory.

Alex, in an apparent twist in tradition, had decided to bring his favourite takeaway over to yours for the evening. You didn’t mind the switch – you actually kind of liked it – but you didn’t hesitate to rib him for it. After all, what kind of gentleman was he if he brought over what he wanted, instead of what you would want?

His response of, “You’ll eat anything anyway,” hit deep, but it wasn’t wrong. You swatted at him with a tea towel for it, and he simply laughed as he moved to unload everything on your tiny dining table.

“I can’t believe you ditched my favourite for yours today,” you whined as you sat down, waiting for him to dish out the food onto your plates. The agreement was that whoever brought over food would be the one serving, but it was weird being served food that wasn’t your favourite. “This feels like a betrayal.”

He just scoffed at you and rolled his eyes. “My place was on the way.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. You knew that your place was on the way from his to yours, you saw it every time and silently longed over it whenever you brought over Alex’s favourite to his place. So the only way for his chosen place to be on the way was for him to be coming from that direction, which was in the opposite direction. Like, if he was coming from somewhere else.

Like work.

“A busy day at work, then?” you asked casually. Alex didn’t usually come from work straight to yours, he usually came from home. At least, that was what you assumed. After all, he was dressed a lot less casually than he usually was. (In fact, you wanted to say that he looked pretty dashing in what definitely looked like a business suit.)

A small frown grew on his face in response to your question, stayed there for a moment, and then he seemed to brush off whatever was on his mind and give you a small smile. “Yeah, pretty busy.” He paused for a moment, finishing off dishing out his food and setting the takeout bowls aside, and then, “I’ve been asked to go on a business trip.”

Your eyes shot up at this, widening as you stared at him. Alex had never really gone into detail about his job before, but… a business trip? You didn’t think he went on business trips. At least, he hadn’t been on one since you’d known him. Not that you’d known of anyway.

“…How long?” you asked eventually, once he’d taken his blazer off and settled in his seat, both of you about to start eating. Your voice was quieter than you expected it to be. You didn’t quite get why you were so quiet all of a sudden – it was just Alex, and you’d had friends disappear for long periods of time before. You were pretty sure you had some friends who went on regular business trips. But you’d gone quiet anyway, and it didn’t seem as though you were going to make yourself any louder.

Alex watched you for a few moments, his fork in his hand and hovering over his plate, and then he put his cutlery down. You got the feeling that this was about to be a pretty in-depth conversation, and mentally prepared yourself.

“Unconfirmed,” he answered, his voice taking on a harder tone, “but maybe a couple of weeks.”

“Where are you going?”

His lips pursed at that, and that confused you. Why was he so reluctant to tell you? “Somewhere in Europe. I’m not sure where yet.”

You just stared at him. Why was he keeping it such a secret? You got the feeling that he knew… but weren’t you close enough friends for him to tell you something like that?

Alex gave a sigh, picking up his fork again. “Let’s… let’s talk about something else, alright?” He offered you an awkward half-smile. “I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came here to have dinner and talk about anything and everything, like we usually do. You know?”

You did know. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t a coworker at the end of the day about anything that came to mind, especially over dinner. It meant that you could have varied conversations that didn’t involve getting work done.

But now you felt as though you really should know more about him. What was his job? Where did he even work? He’d never told you that before. And you didn’t think he was ever going to tell you that now.

So you picked up your own fork, looking down at your plate, and decided to focus on your food for a little while. Until you got all of your thoughts together, at least. You didn’t think you would be able to talk until that happened, and there was no way for it to not be awkward if you decided to go and collect yourself in the bathroom or anything like that.

The rest of your dinner was pretty quiet. You did, eventually, manage to collect all of your thoughts and get back into conversation with him, but you couldn’t help but feel that at least some of it was forced, on both sides. You didn’t want it to be – you missed the easy conversation you and Alex tended to have at the table when you were sharing dinner – but it ended up being so. Even as he helped you to wash the dishes and put everything away, you realised the atmosphere just wasn’t as relaxed and easy as you were used to it being.

And it continued that way all the way up to the front door, where you ended up in your usual position of leaning on the doorframe as Alex stood outside of the door. You both stood there in silence for a few moments, taking in the fact that this would be your last dinner together for a while.

“Well,” you started, pushing yourself off the doorframe, “I have work tomorrow, so…”

“Right,” Alex agreed, his hands in his pockets as he nodded. Usually he would at least take some of the food back to his place if he bought it. Today he wasn’t taking anything. “You shouldn’t stay up too late. Or you get–”

“Cranky,” you cut in, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

That made Alex crack a grin, and somehow that eased the tension between you both the slightest bit. There were at least some parts of your friendship that wouldn’t change with Alex being away for so long. You’d miss the dinners, definitely, but you had Tom’s number. You could invite him over regularly, and show up at his as well. Sure, he had a girlfriend, but she was lovely and probably needed someone a little more sane around for at least a little bit of time a week.

“I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” you said, trying to sound hopeful, and Alex gave a nod. The situation, the whole him leaving thing, didn’t feel as depressing as it could have been. It was temporary. Alex would be back, right?

“I guess so.” He pulled out hand from his pocket and half-waved in his usual way, before turning to head down the corridor. “See you around!”

You simply smiled, and as soon as he disappeared from sight you moved to shut the door, sighing. Perhaps… perhaps Alex would change his mind and actually tell you where he was going. Perhaps Alex would even message you whilst he was out on his business trip, just to see how you were doing without him around. Those late night chat conversations were always nice, and if those stopped for two weeks you would be sorely disappointed.

You were just headed to the kitchen to make sure everything was tidied away and switched off when there was a knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be knocking at the door at this hour? You turned and headed back towards the door to see who it was.

As soon as you opened the door, you felt a pair of lips against yours.

You were surprised at first, not sure who it was that was actually kissing you, but then that familiar smell of cologne hit you and you knew.

It was Alex.

His lips were dry, a bit chapped despite recently having dinner, and still managed to feel soft against your own. He seemed a bit hesitant at the start of the kiss, but when you didn’t fight back… when you didn’t fight back, his arms circled your waist, pulling you closer. You simply sunk into the kiss, letting him move his lips against your own, with your arms moving to rest on his shoulders and your hands interlocking behind his neck. You didn’t know how long you even kissed for, but by the time you were pulling away you were starting to feel lightheaded. You blinked owlishly at him, genuinely surprised at what had happened.

Had he just… had he just kissed you?

He stared back at you for a few moments, before clearing his throat. Pulling away from you, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Then he opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly trying to decide on the words to say. And then,

“I’ll… see you in a couple of weeks, then.”

You stared after him in something akin to shock as he disappeared down the corridor.

***

The following two weeks were nothing short of torture for you, both physically and emotionally. Work, somehow, got significantly more busy for you, and it meant that you actually had to go back into the office some days to get some work done. You didn’t particularly like the idea of going back and being around so many of your coworkers for long periods of time, not when you were so comfortable in your own space at home and were pretty productive on your own as it was. But it meant that if you had to stay on and do work, you weren’t distracted by the idea of ordering dinner only to realise that there was no one around to have dinner with. Sure, Tom was about, and so was his girlfriend. But Alex was out of town.

It also meant that you didn’t have to spend any time thinking about that last dinner you had together. About how you’d felt when you found out that Alex was disappearing on you for two weeks all of a sudden, or that he actually went on business trips and disappeared for periods of time.

Or how you felt when he’d kissed you for the first time.

You sometimes got butterflies just thinking about it, him placing his lips on yours and holding you close. The way his slightly dry lips felt against your softer ones, how he smelled up close, how warm his embrace felt as he pulled you in close–

You had to pinch yourself to stop yourself from thinking about it, otherwise you’d spend all day pining or crying over it.

Sometimes you even visited the cafe where you first sat down together to chat, where he’d bought you your first coffee and you’d had your first… well, your first technical date. All you wanted was a coffee, and you ended up being assaulted by thoughts of him and the time you’d spent together.

You didn’t want to think about it that way – you’d never wanted to think about it that way, that it was your first date. But that was how you ended up thinking about it. It had been a date, technically. And all the times where you’d gone to each other’s for dinner had also been dates. You just didn’t want to think of it in that way because you’d only ever thought of him as a friend, and you hadn’t discussed anything to imply that you were anything more.

That kiss more often than not made you think of him as something more.

It reached its worse when one evening, you got off work early. You thought you’d be fine, you told all of your coworkers that you’d be fine at home on your own (it wasn’t as if they knew about Alex anyway) and headed off. It was the middle of the week, so it wasn’t like you could join in on anyone’s night out or anything. Because, you know, no one went on a night out right in the middle of the week.

That evening you found yourself craving company, just wishing there was someone there to have dinner with you. That evening, you craved him.

That evening someone knocked on your door, and you opened it to find it was Tom, Alex’s best friend. He had a frown on his face, a genuine look of concern, which quickly wiped away when he realised you were standing there. The look turned into a grin as he held out what was obviously your favourite takeaway, perfectly bagged and ready to eat.

Just as Alex would.

“I hear someone usually gets takeout with Mr. Businessman,” he teased, before heading into your place without even an invitation. You wanted to be mad at him as he started rambling on about how Alex had thought it was best to get a replacement for dinner and how every time Tom had knocked you hadn’t been there, but really you were glad. You hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone.

Well, you wouldn’t.

And really the night turned out to be more fun than even you had expected. Tom was a non-stop chatter, commenting on anything and everything, and he even went as far as telling you stories about Alex that you were very sure he wouldn’t tell you himself. It meant that you spent pretty much the whole night in stitches as Tom recalled his and Alex’s childhood. You knew he and Alex had been friends for a long while, but just knowing some of their history… it made you realise how they had managed to stay so close for so long.

If you had been through even a smidge of what those two had been through together with a friend, you doubted you would have left them behind ever. You were pretty sure you would have been best friends for life.

When it came time for Tom to finally leave, you couldn’t help but feel like you were going to miss him. Sure, having dinner with him didn’t match up to having dinner with Alex, and you were definitely sure there was someone else Tom could have been with that evening, but it was the nicest night you’d had since Alex had left. You appreciated Tom, you really did.

And you made sure to tell him that as you both headed to your front door (you didn’t have the heart to make him do the dishes with you, like Alex did, so he was leaving considerably earlier than Alex usually would).

Tom only gave you a grin as you thanked him. “It’s alright. You’ve done a lot for him. It’s the least I could do for you.”

You frowned a little. What exactly had you done for Alex? As far as you knew, he had done so much for you. He bought you food, kept you company, and had genuinely been a good friend to you from the moment he’d bought you a coffee to make up for the spilled one. You couldn’t really think of anything you had done for him. Instead of dwelling on that, though, Tom was quick to switch the subject to when you’d next have dinner together (and he pointed out that you’d need to bring over extra as well) and informing you of his favourite takeaway.

Part of you didn’t want to feel like he was talking as though Alex would be away for longer… but he was definitely talking like Alex would be away for longer

“Are you going to be alright?”

Tom’s question snapped you out of your thoughts, and you stared at him. Were you going to be alright? You’d spiralled already because one person was missing – it wasn’t as though the world was ending or anything. So you gave him a smile.

“I’ll be alright.”

A small part of you wondered whether that was really true.

***

It was more than a couple of weeks. You’d been busy, and had probably lost track of the time, but it felt like it had been more than a couple of weeks. It had been too long since you’d shared a dinner with that rather attractive fair-haired man, whose first time meeting you involved making you spill your coffee all over your front. You were still really missing him, like you were having withdrawal symptoms, and it felt weird.

You hadn’t ever missed someone like this for so long before – not even your own parents. It felt… weird. Part of you didn’t like it. You didn’t want to feel this way when it took over most of your waking thoughts if you weren’t sufficiently distracted. You wanted to be able to think of and do other things without having to try so hard. And more often than not, you couldn’t do other things unless you were working, because nothing else distracted you enough.

Other than, well, writing.

But you hadn’t had your writing mojo in a while. Mostly because you spent most of your time at work, but also because you didn’t actually have the energy or the time to get out your notebook (or even open up your documents) on most days to actually get some writing done. Perhaps it was about time to kick that back into gear. You had a feeling that hobby would kick your loneliness.

And that was how you ended up packing up your backpack, your notebooks and stationary in there along with your empty travel mug, as you headed down to your favourite coffee shop. You hadn’t been there in ages – not since before Alex had left – and you missed their coffee. You thought you could do with something hot and caffeinated, just to kick you into gear and wake your brain up. After all, you wouldn’t have the usual adrenaline from work waking you up and pushing you through.

The walk down to the coffee shop was rather nice, admittedly. It was a decently nice day, and it was peaceful outside – most people were either at work or relaxing at home for the day, so it wasn’t as though there was anyone outside to bother you or get in your way. Soon enough you managed to make it to the actual coffee shop, and you were more than glad that you hadn’t really bumped into anyone on your way down. It meant that you didn’t really have to talk to anyone at all, not even your neighbours, so you could get into the headspace that you wanted without too much issue.

The only thing was, the coffee shop was decently busy at the time. There was a steady hum of conversation as you walked into the shop, various people sitting on the different tables available. You worried that it would mean there wouldn’t be any space to sit, or that someone would try to strike up a random conversation with you, until you realised that your favourite table was actually free, and you smiled.

This was definitely a sign.

You headed straight to the counter to order your classic usual – an iced caramel latte, even though it wasn’t particularly hot outside – along with a blueberry muffin. Just to treat yourself and get you into the vibes of the cafe. It didn’t feel like it took long at all for your order to come, which was probably helped along by the fact that the barista hadn’t seen you in a while and struck up a conversation with you. You felt a little bad for not visiting as often – you used to chat near-regularly with this guy when you came there on an almost thrice-weekly basis – but you never had the time recently, and you admitted that.

When he asked you how your writing was going, you just felt guiltier.

Either way, you exchanged social media handles before he gave you your order, and you promised to message each other more when you weren’t around. After all, you liked chatting with the guy. You may as well strike up whatever friendship you had going with him. (And if it turned into something more… then what did you have to lose?

It was about half an hour after you sat down, when you’d finally got into your writing flow, when you felt the whole atmosphere of the cafe change very suddenly. What had once been warm and welcoming suddenly changed to curiosity and wariness, and as much as you wanted to ignore it and keep writing, the change was too dramatic for you to ignore. You had to see what was going on. That was why you put down your pen and looked up, curious about what was going on.

And it felt like, in that moment, your breath was stolen from you.

You recognised that familiar mop of fair hair the moment you saw it. You’d had dreams, weird dreams, of running your fingers through that hair, just to see how soft it was. You’d always imagined that it looked thinner and more wiry than it actually was, that you would run your fingers through it as he lay his head in your lap, the two of you relaxing at either of your places or even out on the local park, simply enjoying nature.

You were drawn out of your daydreams about his hair when his eyes suddenly focused on you. You’d always known his eyes were dark, but something was… something was different about them now. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what, but it was something. Something that you had a feeling should concern you.

Still, the moment his eyes landed on you, they somehow lit up, and that was enough to get you to stand to greet him instead of sitting until he came over. You watched him as he slowly approached you, not intending to get any closer to him.

Your feet carried you forward anyway, and soon enough you were embracing him, your arms wrapped tightly around him, and his around you. He felt almost like a lifeline, like someone you needed to survive. You didn’t know when he’d become that for you, how or when you’d come to depend on him so much, but as you clutched him you realised that you weren’t sure how much longer you could have survived without him around.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmured, your lips right next to his ear.

He let out the breathiest of laughs, tickling your ear. “I’ve missed you too,” he murmured lowly. And then he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes. “We need to t–”

You didn’t know what had come over you, but the next thing you knew, your lips were pressing against his in a soft kiss that you hoped, you dearly hoped, conveyed everything you were feeling right then. Everything you felt about him in that moment. The way he froze up reminded you of how you’d hesitated when he’d first kissed you, but then he was kissing you back, his familiar chapped lips moving against your own. A few moments later you slowly pulled away – not breathless, but satisfied. And he rested his forehead against yours, a small smile on his lips.

“…Okay then.”

You laughed at his words, suddenly very aware that people in the cafe were probably staring at you both. Regardless, you took the opportunity to reach up and run a hand through his hair. You realised that your thoughts had been right – it was softer than it looked, and felt running through your fingers. Idly, you watched as his eyes closed in response to the movement.

So he liked his hair being played with? That was good to know.

“You’re right,” you spoke up, making him open his eyes so that he could concentrate on what you were saying. “We need to talk.”

Alex nodded as your hand slid out of his hair to rest on his shoulder. His hands rested on your hips, holding you close. “Right. Talk.” He paused for a moment, as though he was collecting his thoughts, and then, “Coffee?”

Your smile widened impossibly as you thought back to the first time you’d met. Of how he’d bought you a coffee in this very shop, and had your drinks at the very table you’d been sitting at when he’d walked in. And you were about to do it again.

“Coffee sounds like a good idea. You’re buying?”

He scoffed as he pulled away fully, making you laugh. “Are you expecting me to buy, or asking me to?”

You simply grinned at him as you headed back to your table. As soon as you sat down, you rested your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, a smirk on your face. “You figure it out.”

He stared at you for a few moments, noticing your half-finished iced latte still sitting on the table, and rolled his eyes at you. “You’ve been spending too much time around Tom.”

“I’ve been spending just enough time around Tom, thank you very much.”

You just about managed to stop yourself from saying how you wanted to spend more time with just him, though. Just about. But that was all that went through your mind as you watched him go off to get his coffee from the barista you’d been chatting with earlier.

Soon enough he was back with his coffee. You swore you could see the barista watching after him with a weird expression on his face, but as soon as Alex was sitting in front of you your focus was on him, and not on the guy you chatted with whenever you came there to get your coffee. Your eyes were glued to him and only him as he took a sip from his coffee, and you couldn't help but realise that there were… purple-ish marks on his neck. At least, they looked that way to you. You didn't get much time to look at them, though, because soon enough he was looking at you again and had put his mug down, his shirt covering up whatever you’d seen.

“So, talking,” he started, and you couldn’t help but glance down at your iced latte, very tempted to take a sip from your drink so that you didn’t have to say anything. But you got the feeling that he would catch that – Alex was very observant – so you decided against it.

“Talking,” you repeated, before taking a deep breath. How did you even talk about it? It was… a lot, but at the same time, so little. Where did you even start? “…Do you want to talk about the first, or the second?”

You could tell Alex was trying to hold back a smirk as he looked at you. “Well, ideally we should start with the first, don’t you think?”

Well, when he put it that way, he made it seem so obvious.

“Okay, then you start,” you pointed out, deciding now was a good time to take a sip from your latte. “After all, you initiated.”

His cheeks flushed pink at that point. “I did.”

You realised that you found the pink flush very cute.

It took him a few moments to seemingly compose himself, and that was the moment you realised that Alex wasn’t as confident or as outgoing as he usually let on. There, right then, you were seeing him as a shy, awkward man – probably the kind of person he’d once been before he’d grown up and started putting on the more confident front.

You liked this shyer version of him.

“I… have liked you for a while,” he admitted, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “I say a while, I mean… I mean a month, or so?" He gave an awkward half-shrug. "I just… acted."

You stared at him, blinking a few times. "You just… acted?"

"Yes."

"On impulse."

"Yes."

"Giving into an animalistic desire–"

"I wouldn't go quite that far."

You didn't know why, but suddenly you felt emboldened. The feelings you thought were a one-way crush turned out to be reciprocated, and your heart was bubbling with so much joy. But for some reason… for some reason you didn’t see the same level of excitement in his eyes.

Instead, you saw… was that hesitation?

He looked down at his mug, and then back up at you. And that was when you realised he wasn’t sure whether you felt the same way. Or, at least, that was what you were thinking, anyway. So you rolled your eyes at him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me on a proper date, or something?” you teased. You quickly realised that maybe saying that was a little too bold, but the way his cheeks flushed and he awkwardly laughed made you think that maybe he didn’t think of it as really offensive. Though the longer it took for him to answer made you wonder whether he was actually considering asking you on a date, or was trying to find a way to let you down gently.

“Dating me isn’t easy,” he finally said, his voice quiet. He looked… nervous now. “I’m a demanding person.”

“I know, I’ve fed you,” you responded casually. When he didn’t laugh, you realised he was probably talking about more than just food.

“I can also be absent for weeks at a time,” he pointed out.

“I can work with that, I’ve had a taster.”

“My job is really demanding, and I can’t tell you anything about it.”

That one confused you. Alex hadn’t ever told you anything about his job before anyway, but you knew that if you were getting closer to him that you’d want to know what he did from day to day. Or at least have an idea of what he did every day. But hearing that he couldn’t tell you anything… that sounded like it would be tough to deal with. And it also sounded like it was something that Alex anticipated.

So you reached over and placed your hands on his, watching as his eyes widened and he tensed a little. You gave him a small smile.

“I wouldn’t be dating you for your job. I’d be dating you for you. The job thing is secondary and not as important.”

He stared at you, as though he was actually processing what you were saying and whether you meant it. You hoped that he knew that you did mean it, and that you really did want to date him regardless. Relationships came from working hard at them – the two of you could work past anything you were unsure about now over time.

“Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Do you think I’d still be sitting here with you if I wasn’t?”

He stared at you, seemingly trying to decide whether you were telling the truth or not. So you decided to offer him a soft smile to try and encourage him.

“Do you really want to do this?” Alex asked, and you gave him a definitive nod.

“Yes.”

The smile that appeared on his face… it wasn’t quite blinding, but it was certainly very beautiful and very happy. And it made you smile even wider in return.

“Alright then.” He took a deep breath, still smiling. “Alright.”

“So pick me up tomorrow at seven?” you went on, and he laughed a little.

“Tomorrow at seven it is.” He shifted your hands so that he was actually holding them, and he squeezed a little. A squeeze that marked the beginning of a rather companionable silence as you both stared down at your hands, how they looked as you held onto each other.

Until you broke it.

“Is this the end of our talk?” you asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow at him. “Because if it isn’t, I think we need to discuss the way you alert me before you disappear for weeks at a time. The night before you go is not acceptable and I would like to have words with you about that.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that–”

“The next time you do that, I’m punching you and breaking your nose.”

He blinked, and then smirked. “Are you, now?”

“You bet I am.”

You knew you should be offended by the way he laughed at you, but you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. It had been a while since you’d heard that laughter coming straight from him.

It was nice.

And you were glad that you were getting the opportunity to hear it more. At least, you hoped you were. You just had to wait and see.

#writing: mine #writing: fanfic writings #written for: zixylixy #fandom: alex rider #alex rider fanfiction #oneshot #alex rider

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