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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

don’t say you miss me

word count: 5.5k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, references to sex but nothing explicit, cursing, recreational drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, there is no happy ending

recommended listening: overnight | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: second installment of hiiapl! little overnight inspired ditty that i’m actually pretty proud of. i’m having so much fun with this it’s insane

You had never meant to get attached.

It was a lot easier said than done – especially with Kevin. He was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was part of his charm. When you first met him, outside a club in downtown Winnipeg, you were blown away by his duality. He had been so loud with his group but quietly brought you a bottle of water after you puked on the sidewalk. After insisting you take his number so you could let him know you got home safely, Kevin convinced you to go to dinner with him. One meal turned into several and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual fling with the Winnipeg Jets’ newest centre. It was mostly sex, with the ocasional interaction outside of the bedroom, but something about Kevin made it feel like more than just a hookup. Over the few months you slept together your feelings shifted, and you began to harbour a rather large crush.

Just when you were going to take the leap and talk to Kevin about getting serious fate reared its ugly head. After only being in Winnipeg for six months, electing to not return to Massechusettes right away after the Jets playoff run finished, Kevin was traded out of the city. The news split your heart in two – there was no way the two of you could become a couple. Though long distance could have been an option, you weren’t going to ask him to commit to that. Being a professional athlete is tough as is, and having a girlfriend a six hour flight away was extra stress you refused to put on Kevin.

The last night you spent with Kevin was emotional. Lots of tears were shed, mostly from you. You knew he was compartmentalizing it all and trying to not let you know how much the trade was affecting him. Whenever the two of you had talked about hockey, Kevin was always quick to mention how much he loved Winnipeg and how much he wanted to stay. Neither of you talked much, too focussed on wallowing in sadness and committing each other’s bodies to memory. He left the next morning, and there was a silent agreement that whatever the two of you had was over. It was fun while it lasted but now you both have to be adults and get on with life.

☼☼☼☼

Nearly six months later you consider yourself to be getting on with life just fine. You’ve got a better paying job, a new apartment, and enthusiastically throw yourself into any project that’s presented. To others, however, you’re barely hanging on. Any time you get a text notification, you hold your breath until a name flashes that isn’t Kevin’s. A notification from Instagram saying he viewed your story makes your heart beat three times as fast. You constantly check for updates on how he’s playing, and watch as many Flyers games media blackouts will allow just to catch a glimpse of his face. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake Kevin Hayes.

“They’ll be in town this weekend,” your best friend Rachel says. “Are you gonna reach out to him?”

You nearly drop the carton of chinese food you’re eating on the floor. “I didn’t know that,” you stammer, trying to make your surprise believable. Kevin will be back in Winnipeg for the first time since being traded. You knew this already, of course, because you have the Flyers scheduled imprinted in your memory.

She narrows her eyes at you. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew they were coming to town. The NHL app stays open on your phone at all times.”

Caught in your lie, you can do nothing but duck your head. You’ve thought a lot about what you’re going to do. Should you send him a text, let him know you’re available after the game? Or should you ignore him completely and make it seem as though you’re doing much better than you are?

“I don’t know Rach. I’ve never had a sort of ex come back to the city he left me in.”

“He didn’t necessarily want to leave you,” Rachel points out. “He got traded. If you want my two cents, I don’t think you should give him a call. You need to move on, not stay stuck in the past.”

Your friend is right, and you know that’s what you should do. Moving on from Kevin would be easier if you didn’t try to contact him. He hasn’t reached out to you so you assume you’re the only one in the relationship still struggling to come to terms with his departure. You struggle with the decision until puck drop, but ultimately decide against texting him. It simply wouldn’t be beneficial for your fragile heart.

A small group of friends has gathered at Rachel’s to watch the game. You’re lucky, or unlucky, to run with a crowd of die-hard Jets fans who get together any time they play, whether it’s at someone’s house or a sports bar around the corner from the arena. Though you tried your best to get out of it tonight, making up any excuse you can think of to stay at home and sob quietly into a pillow, Rachel knows better than to let you be alone and forces you to be in attendance.

It’s a pretty quiet game with the Jets dominating the first two periods. The Flyers are sluggish, not connecting passes and taking far too many penalties. You’re pretty sure Winnipeg has it in the bag when the puck drops for the final twenty minutes of play, so you turn your attention away from the television, picking up a conversation with Christina, the girl your friend Tyler brought along.

Some choice words must have been said to the Flyers in the intermission because they come out swinging. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, they’ve tied the game. The period is full of contact, with multiple players from each team spending time in the penalty box. Your attention is once again returned to the large screen for the final few minutes, and your jaw drops as you watch Kevin dangle through the Jets defence to sink the puck into the back of the net. It turns out to be the game winning goal, and you sit in silence as your friends pay up the money they lost in bets and check their updated fantasy pool standings. Maybe you should text him.

“Don’t fucking do it,” you hear Rachel whisper in your ear. Your other friends know of your past with Kevin, they were around and spent some time with him, but they don’t know how much you were still holding on. Everyone besides Rachel assumes you’re alright – that Kevin is just a blip in your past.

You roll your eyes and sigh, but tuck your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. It stays there – out of sight, out of mind – until it buzzes some time later. Expecting it to be your mother hounding you for not calling in a while, you pull it out. A message from Kevin flashes and you go whiter than a ghost.

Taking the boys out celebrating the big win. You in?

The words, so casual, feel like a punch to the stomach. Why the months of radio silence just to ask to see him like you’re friends? Making sure that no one is paying attention to you, you quickly type out a reply.

That’s not a good idea and you know it Kevin.

You send the message and immediately turn off your phone. This way you won’t have to deal with the aftermath until much later. You allow other things to hold your attention and don’t head home until you’re so tired that it will be impossible for you to think about Kevin’s text.

When you power your phone back up in the morning, you’re shocked to find that Kevin never responded. He obviously didn’t care too much about your absence, and part of you wonders if he was just being polite. It doesn’t make sense, but instead of letting your brain overthink the lack of response you throw yourself headfirst into cleaning your apartment. Hours later it’s spotless, and you slump onto the couch in a pile of exhaustion. You check your social media notifications, a few mentions from your friends about the shenanigans you all got up to the night before and your sister tagging you in a post letting you know she’d like to visit a specific beach the next time she comes to visit. Kevin’s profile photo sits at the top of your instagram feed, and before you can stop yourself you click to view his story.

It’s a snapshot of his teammates with bright smiles on their faces. Each of them is holding a can of beer, and a few look as though they shared a joint before entering the establishment. The photo is captioned ‘glad to be back in winterpeg’ and is accompanied by a couple of snowflake emojis. Your heart clenches inside your chest – it hurts more than you thought it would to see him enjoying himself as though he has no bittersweet feelings about being back. It would be beneficial to unfollow Kevin, but you can’t force yourself to pull the metaphorical trigger and completely cut him from your life.

Kevin leaves the next day for Vancouver. You know this because you watch his story yet again, and curse yourself for grasping at straws. Why must he have such a strong hold on you after so long? A call to Rachel has her driving to your place in minutes, ready to hold you while you cry and distract you from the pain that still lingers from his first departure.

☼☼☼☼

It’s easier to forget Kevin without him being in the city – you do your best, and eventually it sort of sticks.

He no longer crosses your mind every few days. You go weeks, sometimes a month or two, without thinking about him. It’s nice to no longer get sad when you enter a bar you frequented with him or wince when someone mentions how he’s playing. It also helps that he never returns to Winnipeg.

There’s no reason for him to. The Flyers don’t play another away game against the Jets the rest of season, and as far as you know he doesn’t frequently talk to his old teammates. Your life fades into a quiet routine you come to love dearly. The world feels balanced for the first time since Kevin left and you’re nothing but thankful.

Life moves on, and you find yourself succeeding in your career – so much so that you’re quickly offered a promotion. The change increases your workload and doesn’t leave you much of a life outside of work, but it doesn’t matter much to you. It’s a welcome distraction and keeps thoughts of Kevin out of your mind. No one comments on your genuine improvement, but you know they can see it. Rachel is proud, and she’s told you exactly once. It’s all you’ll get out of her so you take it and roll with it. The rest of the regular season passes without you so much as knowing, or caring, and before you know it there’s a notification for an article saying the Flyers were eliminated in the second round. For the first time you find it really hard to care.

☼☼☼☼

Summers in Winnipeg are your favourite. The city is warm for the first time all year and the flowers look beautiful in full bloom. With the promotion you’re afforded more vacation time, which you plan to take full advantage. There’s nothing you love more than hanging with friends in the sun, soaking up the rays, and casually drinking.

The days bleed into one another in the way that all good summers should, and before you realize it it’s your last day at work for a week. It will be nice to be free from workplace constraints for a while, and your friends have the time off as well. The group of you are heading to a cabin on Falcon Lake where you’re sure lots of partying will take place. You suggested getting farther away, but settled on the area in case Tyler’s sister goes into labour. He’s a very family oriented person and offered to watch his nephew when the time comes.

Four o’clock comes faster than you ever could have imagined, and you cheerfully wave goodbye to your co-workers. Some complain of your ability to leave during the busiest season of the year, but most of them wish you well. You put an immense amount of work into your job regardless of the quarter and know you deserve the break. If you don’t stop at the grocery store on your way you’ll be in trouble since you’re in charge of all the breakfasts and you currently only have a half-eaten loaf of bread that could go stale any day.

You’re in the cereal aisle, deciding whether or not you really need Honey Nut Cheerios for the trip, when you hear his unforgettable voice. It’s loud and booming and brings back so many feelings that you’ve learned to repress that you turn on your heel and head to the nearest self checkout despite only gathering half the items on your list.

Back in your car, you dial Rachel’s number and try to regulate your breathing.

“Hello?”

You don’t bother with any formalities. “Kevin is here.”

“In Winnipeg?” she asks, more than a tad confused. “Why would he be in Winnipeg?”

The interior of the Ford Escape you drive feels too small, so you crack a window and peel out of the parking space. Rachel’s voice reverberates throughout the car thanks to the bluetooth system. “I don’t fucking know, but he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Y/N,” Rachel says, always the realist. “He lives in Boston. What would he be doing in Winnipeg in the middle of July?”

You aren’t sure, and make sure to tell her so. “But it was him,” you swear. “He was in the grocery store.” You stop at a red light, placing your blinker on and checking both ways before turning right. A few more minutes and you’d be safely tucked away in your apartment, away from the world and the possibility of running into Kevin.

“There’s like a hundred tall gingers in the city babe, you didn’t see him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see him,” you agree. “I heard him. How many tall gingers are there in Winnipeg with Boston accents?”

“Oh fuck. I’m coming over.” With that, Rachel hangs up, and you pull into the parking garage. You sit in silence for a minute or two before deciding your shaking legs can hold you upright. Perhaps you weren’t as over Kevin as you thought.

Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening with you, ensuring you don’t do anything stupid and letting you spew all your feelings, both good and bad. More than one bottle of wine is consumed, but you have more than enough time to nurse a hangover. If you play your cards right through the week this won’t be the only time you do it either.

You wake up on top of your pristine sheets, Rachel grumbling beside you – she’s never been as good at holding her alcohol.

“What time is it?”

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes a few numbers and you have to stare at them for a minute before you comprehend them. “Just after eight,” you say, sitting up. Surprisingly, you feel fine. Maybe the crippling weight of your feelings for Kevin cancels out the hangover you most definitely should be feeling.

“We need to get going. Gotta pack the car and hit the road. I’m the one who needs to get the keys so we have to be there before everyone else,” she sighs, grumbling something else under her breath as her feet hit the floor.

You just laugh at her and head into the kitchen. While Rachel showers you make coffee and pack the food into the ancient cooler your father gave you when you moved out many moons ago. It has served its purpose on several trips like this – you’ll be sad to see it go eventually. You switch places with Rachel, and once you’re feeling refreshed the two of you stuff your trunk and hit the road.

The drive is rather uneventful, with the both of you sitting in silence, and it doesn’t take you long to approach your destination. Rachel is a poor navigator so you’re tasked with figuring out where you’re going and making sure you get there, but it could be worse. You have a general sense of where you’re going. Getting the keys is painless and you get to work unpacking your overloaded SUV.

“Do you think there will be other people around we can party with?” Rachel asks as you close the trunk for the last time.

You shrug. “Don’t know Rach. It doesn’t look like it.”

She drops it, agreeing with you, and you separate to unpack your personal belongings. The cabin is large enough that no one has to share a room, which you’re grateful for. Though you love your friends dearly, they don’t always know what personal space is. At some point in the afternoon the rest of the group trickles in, and by dinner you’ve all settled and are ready to party.

Tyler figures out how to use the ancient barbeque and sets to work cooking the burgers. Everyone else gets side dishes ready or sets the table, with Christine starting a bonfire. You don’t know her well, only having met her a few times, but your friend seems to be infatuated with her. She fits in great with the group so you aren’t worried about any awkward tension. Dinner passes in a fit of giggles and shouts, and once the dishes are done you can relax fully.

The beer you grab from the fridge on your way out the door makes your insides fuzzy in the best way possible. By the fire, surrounded by those who care about you the most, you feel at peace. You’re yet to think about the sudden reappearance of Kevin in Winnipeg, and you’d like to keep it that way. Someone grabs the beat up acoustic guitar you found in the living room and thrusts it in your direction. You’d taught yourself to play in college, and it comes in handy for times like this.

“I refuse to play Wonderwall,” you laugh, shooting pointed looks at each and every person sitting around you.

“Come on Y/N,” Rachel groans. “Just once?”

“Fuck off.”

You don’t mean it, of course, and strum the opening chords with a grimace on your face. Tyler counts everyone in and they sing for you, which is appreciated. You might be decent at playing, but your singing voice is one that shouldn’t see the light of day if it can be helped. It’s more fun than you imagined it could be so one song turns into three, and before you know it your makeshift jamboree attracts the attention of the neighbours you didn’t know existed.

Applause erupts from behind you, and you flush enough that your cheeks warm significantly. “You guys are so good I hate to disrupt the rhythm,” a deep voice says, “But do you mind if a buddy and I join you? We’re a little lonely by ourselves next door.”

Tyler’s out of his seat in a heartbeat, jumping up to pat the man on the back. “Of course man, come on over! I’m Tyler, and that’s Rachel, Christine, Marshall, and Y/N.”

You all wave politely, and the mystery guest introduces himself. “Nice you meet you guys. I’m Nolan.”

It’s then you get a good look at who you’re speaking to. He seems to be a few years younger than you, maybe early twenties, and he has a face you just can’t place. Maybe you’ve seen him around Winnipeg – the city is small enough that you can often spot the same faces in a crowd. “I’ll just yell at him to come over and we can get the party started,” Nolan explains, “Kev, bud, come on over! And bring a couple beers.”

All the blood rushes from your fingers at the name. You shake them intensely, willing your circulatory system to function properly again. If you had to hazard a guess there’s probably a million people in Manitoba named Kevin. There’s no reason for it to be Kevin Hayes. You’re most certainly still spooked from your near encounter with him yesterday.

“Fuck Patty, you couldn’t come back and grab your own?” the emerging figure grumbles in the vocal stylings you’ll have imprinted on your heart until your dying day. Kevin is here, and if you don’t leave in the next few seconds you’ll be face to face with him for the first time in over a year.

You stand abruptly, not stopping to explain your hasty exit to anyone, and practically run into the house. The door slams behind you and you do your best to make your heart rate return to normal. Tyler shouts something you can’t quite comprehend, but you know it’s probably some sort of reconnection greeting. He’d met Kevin a couple of times while the two of you were together and had gotten along with him well.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “You good?”

You hadn’t heard her come in. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean like I knew he was in town but never in a million years did I think he’d crash my fucking vacation.”

She nods in agreement. “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in here forever?” An eye roll is sent your way but you choose to ignore it. “I’m serious Rach, I can’t go back out there, at least not tonight. Every time I think I’m over him he finds a way to make me realize I’m just faking.”

“I know,” Rachel says simply. She really does – as your best friend she’s privy to your every thought on the matter. After making sure that you'll be okay she heads back outside, armed with an excuse for your early departure.

You spend the rest of the night tucked under the covers, listening to the laughter of your friends outside, no doubt in your mind that Kevin is the source for most of it. He’s always been good at commanding an audience. Thoughts swim freely in your brain, most of them occupied by Kevin in some capacity. Was tonight just a one off? Will you have to eventually face him? What will you say? Eventually sleep comes, though it’s fitful and fleeting.

☼☼☼☼

You do your best to avoid Kevin, and it works for a day or two. Tyler has stricken up a friendship with the athlete, and spends more time with him and Nolan than your group. You don’t mind all that much because they typically are out on Nolan’s boat or lounging in their cabin, but every night the group reconvenes at your firepit. The excuses are starting to run out – there’s only so many times you can say you have heat exhaustion before someone stops believing you.

“Y/N, Kevin hasn’t even mentioned you,” Tyler whines one night after dinner. “It won’t be awkward. We only have a few days left, please spend time with us?”

“I’m spending plenty of time with you,” you grumble. “You promise he won’t say anything?”

Tyler shoots you a smile that lets you know he knows that he’s broken down your resolve. “Why would he? If he was going to do it he would have already.”

You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re glad he’s faring better than you, but on the other hand you wish he’d at least make an effort to inquire into your well-being. Maybe it was simply proof that you were still holding onto something that didn’t mean much of anything. Eventually you’d have to face the music, whether it be with Kevin or someone in the future, so you make the decision to try and at least get used to seeing former flames in social settings.

“You’re rolling my joints tonight asshole,” you grumble, shoving your sock clad feet into a pair of worn out sandals.

There’s a small commotion, mostly in excitement at your begrudging agreement, and you roll your eyes as you grab what is destined to be your first of many beers from the fridge. Rachel slides up beside you on the way out the door and squeezes your hand, letting you know she’s ready to support you no matter what happens. It’s comforting, and the nerves in your stomach settle a small amount.

Marshall is already outside, helping Nolan start the fire. They seem to be extremely similar and you’re glad they can seek each other out when the rest of the group gets too rambunctious. The rest of your party filters out of the house and takes up residence in the adirondack chairs. Kevin doesn’t appear to be around, so you allow yourself to speak freely, loud and unabashed.

“No I’m telling you,” you insist, trying to convince Nolan your stance on Jack Antonoff is correct. “Jack is literally responsible for reinventing pop production.”

He laughs at how into the conversation you are. “Why the fuck should I care?”

“Because you fucking listen to Lorde!”

Someone else is laughing along with you and it nearly stops you in your tracks. At some point Kevin had joined the party, but you hadn’t noticed. Knowing that he was listening makes you suddenly self conscious, and you wrap your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Nolan can tell you’re uncomfortable and does his best to relieve the tension.

“Kev, do you wanna run back and grab the weed?” he asks.

The auburn haired man pulls a baggie out of his hoodie pocket. “Got it right here baby cat,” he grins. “And it’s ready to go. You got a light?”

Nolan tosses him the lighter and Kevin expertly puts the joint between his parted lips. He lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, and you watch him more intently than you should. You’re thrown back to the memories of Kevin’s apartment downtown, where you’d smoke in content silence after a night of passionate sex. The scenes flash in your mind and you’re overcome with melancholia. You had been so happy in the moment, and now you’re in a similar situation but feel nothing. Other than sharing in your laughter, Kevin is yet to say anything to you.

You must have been lost in your thoughts, because Kevin is staring at you with a quizzical expression. “Y/N? Do you want a hit?”

It takes you a second to snap out of your daze, but to cautiously take the lit joint from his hand. “Thank you Kevin,” you say, voice timid. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since he left Winnipeg for the first time.

He shoots you a dazzling smile and your insides threaten to turn to mush. No matter how hard you’ve tried to convince yourself you over him, that you’ve moved on from Kevin, you know you’re wrong. Kevin Hayes will have some sort of hold on you until you die. To distract yourself from the overwhelming amount of emotion you inhale deeply, hoping that the buzz smoking will bring can clear your mind. You really don’t want to think about what you lost when he’s right in front of you.

The three of you sit in silence, passing the joint in a circle, and listen to the conversation your friends are engaged in. Marshall ropes Nolan into a game of cornhole and he goes begrudgingly. As he stands he sends you a sympathetic look, and you know that he’s familiar with your history with Kevin. It doesn’t surprise you – Kevin isn’t exactly one to keep secrets.

“So,” Kevin says once it’s just the two of you, “How have you been?”

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been good. Work has been crazy lately, so this break has been really nice.”

He presses, and you indulge him in a conversation about your new job, though it can barely be considered that now. Everything is surface level – you’re afraid of letting Kevin in too much. Though your fling may have been brief, it didn’t make his departure or the lack of contact any easier. He tells you about his life in Philadelphia and how much he loves it there. Before you can stop yourself, you ask him a loaded question.

“Do you like it more than Winnipeg?”

Kevin falters. It takes both of you a moment to process what you said. Not one to lie, he answers truthfully. “Yeah.” It comes out in a sort of deflated sigh. “But I miss –”

“Don’t say it,” you rush, trying hard to keep your voice down. “You don’t mean it.”

An embittered huff comes from him, and you watch carefully as he peels the worn ball cap off his head and tugs on his curls. “I do,” he insists. “I absolutely miss you.”

You no longer care who can hear you. “If you missed me, you would have texted. Called. Anything,” you say cooly. Everyone else has clued in to the fact that something is going on between you and Kevin, and have migrated inside in an attempt to give you privacy.

“I did. You’re the one who said it wasn’t a good idea to see each other again.”

“Because it had been over half a year!” you shriek. “And it had been radio silence before then. You left Kevin, and I’m not blaming you. I know it’s your job. But you left and it was so fucking hard, and it stung because you didn’t even try. So when you hit me up after that game I knew I had to say no. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’m still so in love with you that if you asked I’d uproot my life and follow you to Philly. I don’t want to be that girl.”

The outburst leaves you gasping for breath. Never before had you spilled heartache so fast – with a sort of reckless abandon. Anytime you’ve had these types of conversations you’ve been calm and collected. You’re currently the farthest thing from it.

Kevin’s expression softens, and a sadness fills his eyes. “I was scared,” he begins, “Because for the first time in my life I was with someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. Sure, we weren’t serious, but I was going to take it there. Then I got traded and the plans I had went to shit and I was too scared to do anything about it. So I let you slip away.”

Silence fills the space between you. You don’t know what to say, so you focus on unraveling the loose thread from the hem of your cardigan. Kevin shuffles in his seat awkwardly. “Where do we, uh, go from here?”

The question shocks you. To the best of your understanding, you had made it perfectly clear where your relationship was headed. “Nowhere,” you breathe. “You head back to Philly, meet another girl, and fall in love. I stay here, do my job, and learn to be content with myself.”

“There’s no room for us in your little plan?”

“We’ve run our course Kev. As much as I still love you, will always love you, we’re too fundamentally different for us both to really be happy in a relationship. You have to know that.”

He nods. “I do.” With that, Kevin rises from the chair, gives you a sad smile, and leaves. You assume he’s calling it a night, and you wish to do the same. Finally having that conversation was exhausting and all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.

☼☼☼☼

The rest of the trip passes without you seeing Kevin again. He and Nolan left early the morning after your conversation, and you do your best to enjoy yourself. Part of your brain makes you believe you’re the reason they left, though Tyler tells you otherwise. No one asks about what happened between you two, not even Rachel, and you return to the city determined to start anew. Eventually you break the cycle of obsessing over Kevin’s stats, and take it upon yourself to unfollow him on social media. Life goes on.

Things never really get easier. You still find yourself grieving the loss of Kevin, late at night when you can’t sleep, but are confident in your decision to say goodbye for good. Time heals everything, and eventually you’ll be okay.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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babyloposts · 3 years

Text

RoseBud

My Hero Academia Gang AU

Pairing(s): Sero Hanta x fem!reader

Warnings: language, drug use, explicit content, sexual themes, gang imagery, violence

Summary: a simple crush on a guy quickly turns south as you become wrapped up in an unsafe life of lies, drugs, and violence. What happens when you become a key player in a war between to rival gangs and have to deal with a complicated love life all at the same time.

—————————————————

0.5

You stayed occupied on your phone until Hatsume returned to finish up the details of your already sore rose. In the time it took for her to do whatever business she had with those boys, your numbing cream had began to wear off.

The tension in the room was thick. The previously care-free energy Hatsume possessed was replaced with a melancholic and faraway stare in her eyes.

“Alright babe I’m all done. Remember to clean the skin with a gentle anti-bacterial soap and use alcohol-free moisturizer alright.” There was a feigned happiness in Hatsume’s voice, but her eyes said it all. Whatever Bakugou had done to her, whatever he and the red head had taken from her must have dampened her mood more than the threat from earlier.

You nodded to Hatsume and she took her leave as you were re-dressing. Luckily the top you wore was a light fabric and didn’t rub against your tattoo too much, but you could tell, this was going to hurt in the morning.

Walking back into the main lobby you only found Sero. No Bakugou, Hatsume, or mysterious Red Head to be found. You wanted to be happy to see Sero, but the look on his face and the mark on his face were more than enough to dampen your mood.

“Sero, oh my God!” He cringed as your finger lightly danced over his bruised cheekbone. Your hand flew to him without even thinking. Quickly you whipped it back and silently scolded yourself for your overbearing nature. “I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t apologize. It’ll only make me feel worse about getting punched in the face.” He chuckled, but your expression never faltered. The worry was there and it wasn’t going anywhere. Your brain was rattling with questions of ‘why?’ and ‘what happened?’, but as soon as you even fixed your mouth to speak Sero was cutting you off with the sharp movement of rising to his feet.

“Let me drive you home. It’s late.” Without checking for a change in your face or any confirmation he turned to leave the shop, trusting that you had fallen instep behind him.

The car ride to your apartment didn’t answer any lingering questions either. The only sounds that graced your ears was the buzzing of the engine and the light sounds of J. Cole songs emanating from the stereo. Sero periodically asked for vague directions to your side of town, but surprisingly he found your small complex with ease.

“Thank you.” You sighed as he shifted the car into park. The car ride may have been soothing, but the fear for your new friend’s well-being never once left your gut.

“Don’t thank me. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. And I pride myself on being a pretty nice guy.” The smile graced easily over his face as if he didn’t have a giant bruise forming under his eye. Your expression remained unmoving, your friend full of wonder as to what he was hiding from you. Yea, you had just officially met Sero tonight and he really isn’t obligated to tell you anything personal, but he was acting like none of that crazy shit just happened.

Sero chuckled, breaking through your bewildered inner monologue to move around and open your car door for you. “Alright, this is the part where you go home. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you.” He winked.

“R-right.” You get out of the car and start to your apartment. This didn’t feel right, the energy was too weird. You knew in the back of your mind that Denki was right. He had said Sero was a good guy and you’d be in good hands with him and he was right. Sero was probably trying to protect you from whatever shady business he was apart of, but you couldn’t leave this “date” where it was. You made it about half way to the door to enter the lobby of the building before you spun on your heels and placed your hands firmly on your hips. Sero was watching you as he leisurely leant on the hood of his black muscle car. Totally unbothered as you had come to expect.

“You’re not leaving here without me checking you out.” You said with all the gusto you could muster.

“Go ahead. I’m standing right here.” He smirked and drank you in with his eyes.

“Stop being an idiot and come upstairs with me. I can’t go to sleep tonight knowing that I just let you leave here with a black eye and I didn’t even offer you an ice-pack.”

“If you wanted me to come up to your apartment with you, you didn’t have to make up an excuse.” He punctuated his sentence with the chirp of his car doors locking and jogged up next to you.

“What happened to you being a gentleman?” You snorted.

“I can’t ever turn down an offer like that from you. I’ll take my chances.” He grinned slyly. You rolled your eyes trying to act like his charm wasn’t getting to you.

Sero followed you into the elevator and into your apartment. It was quaint and homey and smelled of bergamot incense. Luckily you had cleaned up a few days ago and your apartment was presentable to guests.

“You can sit on the couch I’ll get you some ice and a damp rag.” Without checking to see if he even listened to your instructions you busied yourself hopping from room to room of your apartment to gather the supplies to help his worsening bruise. Once you were back in the living room you instinctively pressed the makeshift ice-pack to Sero’s eye causing him to wince.

“That’s what you get for getting yourself beat up because of me.” You huffed.

“What do you mean? I didn’t-”

“I heard what he said Sero. That blond guy was yelling at Hatsume saying that you left the club before you were supposed to and he had to finish the job for you. You told me that you were done for the night. I wouldn’t have cared if we stayed longer.”

“I didn’t get beat up for you.” Softly, your hand was removed from in front of his eye. With Sero’s vision no longer obscured he could see the look of guilt clear as fat on your face. “I chose to leave. I was gonna do what needed to get done regardless, but my boss has little faith in me I guess. He sent his guard dog after me instead of trusting that I know how to get shit done.” Sero grumbled at the end. That seemed to have put him off. It was the one time his chill façade had faded that night.

“So... taking me to Hatsume was an excuse?”

Quickly the charm was back and he was reassuring you that you were priority number one. “No. Well kind of. I still wanted you to have a good time, but I would have had to see Hatsume tonight anyway. So, two birds and all that.” He shrugged.

With the ice pack now back on his face you started again, you found it was easier to speak your mind this way. No seductive eyes to sway the conversation. “Okay. But still. You should have checked in with whoever to avoid all this.” You gestured to his face.

“This happens more often than you think.”

“Sero. Be serious please.” You sighed. “You didn’t need to get hurt indirectly because of me. I’m not gonna ask what you or Bakugou needed from Hatsume, because obviously it wasn’t tattoo related, but can you at least promise me that you won’t leave working just to hang with me?”

“So there’s gonna be a next time.” His eyebrows wiggled, taunting you.

You stammered. You didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but you were hoping he would want to go out with you again. “I mean yeah, I thought tonight was fun, all things considering.”

“Yeah? Me too.” His hand began to snake to your thigh that was now exposed to him as your skirt hiked up from your sitting position. The hand was comforting reminding you of the comfort you got from him earlier that night in the car.

“I-“ Your throat all of a sudden felt so dry. Clearing uncomfortably, you began again. “I don’t know if this is really gentlemanly.” You chuckled. Sero’s gaze at you did not falter for a second. His eyes were hazy and his eyelids dropped. The look in his eyes drew you in and you dropped the ice-pack from his face.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t keep my eyes off you. You’re beautiful.” You smiled as the compliment. Again the compliment on your beauty was unfamiliar, but greatly appreciated.

“Thank you... but I-” Your protests were quickly silenced by the force of his lips pressing against yours.

Like ice against a flame you melted into the kiss automatically. Your lips mended together perfectly. His felt rough, slightly chapped, but the way he moved in rhythm with you caused you to swoon. You were both drunk on each other’s touch. His hands roamed you lower body and rested on your waist, while you explored his hair and massaged his scalp with your finger tips.

A firm squeeze to your upper thigh elicited a gasp from your lips breaking the kiss and allowing Sero just enough time to slip your blouse over your head. What a pleasant surprise it was to find you without a bra on to obstruct his view. “Nice tat.” He smirked.

To avoid the embarrassment bubbling in your chest you shut him up this time by climbing into his lap and resuming the kiss where you had left off. In this position he had free reign of your body. His hands explored every inch of your legs, ass, and back.

You were a frustrated moaning and groaning into his mouth which only made him want to touch you more. Those intimate sounds making him harden beneath you.

Sero was undeniably sexy. You had fantasized about being with him before you really knew him, but everything went beyond your expectations. The way his rough hands felt against your body, the way his tongue and lips felt tangling with yours and his scent. It was a strong mix of cologne, weed, and something almost sickeningly sweet. You could have sworn it was...

Cherry Blossoms.

As if I’ve cold water had been poured on you, you ended your make out session with your crush prematurely.

“What happened?” Sero finally showed some other emotion. A mix of curiosity and worry.

You panicked how could you explain this. “Sero... you- you don’t want me.”

“The fuck are you on? Of course I want you.” His eyes flicked down taking in the sight of you bare chested and sitting on his straining erection.

“No you don’t. I’m sorry but, it’s my quirk that’s making you like me.”

“Huh?”

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Taglist: @black-bhabie-2000

#babylowrites #bnha x black!reader #bnha #mha #mha x female reader #bnha bakugou #black writers #mha bakugo x reader #bnha sero #sero hanta x reader #sero x female reader #sero x black!reader #Kmainari Denki #ashido mina #mha todoroki #mha kirishima

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cloverque · 3 years

Text

monochrome (miya atsumu)

黑白 (宮侑)

your life is like the black and white panels in a manga, until a certain someone dyed his vivid colours into yours

5190 words

past highschool, present post timeskip, nostalgic themes(?), tiny enemies to lovers trope, theme revolves around unconfessed love until years later

a reuploded request from an anon-then-now-my-friend! <3 not edited

Monochrome. Your life was like the black and white pages in a manga; dull and neutral. There was nothing special about you, for the most part, you were ordinary.

At some point, almost every girl would like a colourful romance. One with blooming roses, scintillating sparkles and handsome young men. Topped off with promises of abiding love and vibrant days filled with never ending mirth.

However, you never pursued it, nor did it find you, and that was alright. Besides, what was the point of heart throbbing ardour if it were all to come to an inevitable end?

With a few clicks, your computer was turned off. You began clearing your desk, sorting out your folders and files when your colleague spun around in their chair.

“Hey, (l/n)-san. Did you hear?” The mousey woman enquired. A small smile was etched across her makeup coated face as she continued. “There’s going to be a dinner function! It’ll be held in the fancy hotel across the building.”

Your coworker across your table stood up to peer pass the desk divider. She chimed in with avidity, “I’m soooo going tonight! I heard the other divisions has a ton of hotties. No way in hell I’m gonna turn down a chance to meet ‘em!”

“Geez, you’re always thinking about men...” The lady beside you sighed, before returning her gaze back to you. “So, wanna go together?”

You shook your head, “Count me out. I already have plans tonight.” As you got up and shifted your handbag, you smiled apologetically. “Let me know if anything interesting happens, though.”

“Oh, okay... See you tomorrow,” she bid you farewell, albeit disappointedly. You nodded and bid the duo the same.

When your back was turned to them, the lady across the divider whispered to the one beside you. You knew what they were prattling about: that you were plain and boring. Wordlessly, you left the room, your heels clacking against the tiles as you made your way to the elevator.

As the double digits on the digital screen changed to singular ones, you closed your eyes.

Truthfully, it would be a lie to say that your life was completely monochrome. It was once colourful, after all, despite being for a short period.

Those days had involved a boy named Miya Atsumu, and he was the one who had brought colour into your high school days.

It all began in a manga shop.

You were in your second year of high school then, and would frequent a manga shop on the way home. It was sandwiched between a decently sized Lawson and an antique shop, on a quieter side of town.

The shop was abundant with not only manga, but also multifarious classics and second hand books. With its reserved location, not many knew of its existence, thus it went unnoticed by hordes of rambunctious manga fanatics.

It was perfect for you; your little safe place. However, you didn’t know that it was also frequented by a particular faux blonde.

You had wandered in with a specific title in mind, looking forward to getting your hands on it the whole day. Meanwhile, the boy’s brain was so preoccupied with volleyball and upcoming matches that he didn’t notice you, in an identical school uniform, lingering in the same section.

And like a sick cliche, your fingers bumped into his.

Withdrawing your hand, you snuck a side glance, only to see a broad chest in your line of sight. You slowly tilted your head to meet his steely gaze. Flinching, you practically whipped around when you realised the boy was towering over you.

“Um, sorry...” You mumbled out whilst backing away.

Atsumu’s brows were scrunched together as he took in your form. He half expected you to latch onto him with your eyes, but you were looking away, at anywhere but him.

Maybe once you got a good look at him, you’d react like all the oestrogen in his life. Squealing his name, asking for his number, all thirsty for his attention.

However, all you did was stand awkwardly, without uttering a single word. The oddity took him aback slightly. Thus, he decided to play with you a bit.

The teen perked his brows slightly before pointing at the manga’s spine. “Don’t cha want this?” He gestured, making you nod. A cruel smirk sneaked up to his handsome face.

You thought he was going to pass it to you. Instead, he slipped it out of the shelf and sauntered away. He slapped a few notes onto the cashier’s counter, making the store owner jump at his boldness. The boy with the undercut swiftly shuffled towards the entrance, his book bag slung over his back with the manga dangling from his long fingers.

Gawking, you watched as the automatic sliding doors opened for him. You wanted to call him back, to demand him to return it to you. But you knew it was impossible. The manga wasn’t yours, after all.

The blonde cocked his back to catch a glimpse of you. Noticing your conflicted expression, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He stuck out his tongue at you, cackling as your eyes widened and your face flushed. Then he left as soon as he came.

Your entire body trembled with embarrassment and humiliation. What just happened...!?

To make your day worst, you later learnt that the manga was the last one in stock. The rest of your day was spent stabbing your food and antagonising your pillow.

The next day, you found him again in the manga shop, but with grey hair. You almost dropped your book bag as you stomped towards him, fuming and ready to pounce on him.

The ash grey haired teen glanced at you with a deadpanned expression as you stopped beside him, shaking with infuriation.

“How could you do that to me yesterday!? You took the last one! The! Last! One!” Your nostrils flared as you exhaled. “Now I have no wait an entire week– And why’s your hair grey now–!?”

Despite your confrontation, the boy remained unfazed as he cocked a dark brow. It took him a few seconds to realise. He glanced up at the ceiling then back at you.

“Sorry, I think you’re mistaken,” he began politely, maintaining a neutral expression. “But the person you’re talking about is probably my obnoxious twin.”

This encounter had ended with a deep bow and a deluge of apologies. Nodding, the more reserved twin gave you a cold ‘ok’ before ambling away.

Since then, you realised that there were two twins in your school: the Miya brothers. The asshole was Atsumu, and the quieter one was Osamu. Or at least, they had seemed that way to you, on account of your personal experiences.

You wondered how you had never noticed them until now, especially when they stood out during assemblies due to their dyed hair. Not to mention their questionable popularity with the girls.

Maybe Osamu was reasonable, but who in the right mind would fall for someone like that blonde jackass Atsumu!?

On one occasion, you were shuffling past the gymnasium for a nurse’s errand when you saw a glimpse of the volleyball club. Bright blonde hair swished past the doors, and you remembered your meeting with the haughty male.

“Nice kill!” A deep voice hollered, followed by the high pitched squeaks of shoes against polished floor. You peeked past the doors, eyes shining with curiosity, when the twins you had met suddenly jumped into the air.

Your eyes were set on Atsumu as he deftly set a volleyball for his brother, who spiked the ball without delay. Sweat glimmered down the faux blonde’s forehead, tracing his jawline before dripping onto the floor. The slap he gave Osamu’s hand reverberated in the gym as they shared matching grins.

Seeing them together really highlighted the fact that they were carbon copies of each other. Your train of thoughts were derailed when a member with dark hair and narrowed eyes pointed in your direction.

Atsumu glanced at you, his smile turned upside down whilst you jolted up. With confident strides, he was in your face in an instant. He gave you a once over before grimacing.

“Get lost.”

Then he slammed the door shut in your face. As you stood frozen in place, unable to register what had happened, Osamu pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“‘Tsumu, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

His golden haired twin simply snorted in response.

Your next encounter with Atsumu took place at the manga shop again. A fight had broken out between the two of you, both unwilling to relent. Gripping the limited edition copy tightly in your hand, you refused to budge.

There were extras, but you had arrived first before the haughty boy and both of you had touched the same copy. Consequently, warring with each other.

Both of you shared exasperated expressions, tugging and pulling desperately for the manga. Neither wanted to throw in the towel. Atsumu was much stronger than you, clearly, his biceps flexing as he clenched his teeth and tried to pry the book from you.

Meanwhile, your two feet were planted firmly in the ground, all your strength poured into rooting yourself into the tiles or risk falling backwards if he were to let go.

However, he would not in a long time.

“Let go, you brat!” He chided, grunting with exasperation. Tugging it back harshly, you almost stumbled.

Growling animalistically, you retorted, “Never!” Then you lunged forward to bite his hand.

The blonde released the manga with a yelp, shoving your face off his hand brutishly. You stumbled back in response, tripping and landing on your bum. A string of saliva dribbled down your lips as you stared up at him, grinning victoriously.

Atsumu glowered, holding his bitten fist with his other hand. A row of teeth had punctured his skin, and you realised there was a little blood. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

As you stood up and brushed your school skirt, you adjusted your book bag and gripped the manga to your chest. Trembling with anger, you were giddy with pride and sheepishness.

“You slammed a door in my face, asshole!”

Then you rushed past him to pay for your purchase. Atsumu turned to watch you leave, your loafers tapping against the floor softly as you ran off. But when you hopped out of the outlet, you gave him a side glance and stuck out your tongue.

Atsumu recognised the gesture; he pointed a middle finger in return.

Days and weeks went by like that, with Atsumu and you contending against each other to buy the weekly Jump, the first copies of mangas or limited edition prints. It was childish, for two seventeen year olds to tousle with each other.

Atsumu would ruthlessly tug on your hair, screaming bloody murder of your existence and stubbornness. Meanwhile, you resorted to calling him all sorts of colourful words, which would result in the shop owner throwing the two of you out. There was even a time when you both were banned from stepping in until you made up.

It happened eventually, and the two of you would at least communicate with less insults and more civilly. Your peace treaty with him didn’t mean letting him snag first copies of new arrivals, though. But Atsumu and you settled it through more human means, instead of ripping out each other’s hair.

There was one moment in which Atsumu had made your heart beat a little faster, too. It had happened like this: you were found beside the school’s vending machine, crying because you had dropped your shoujo manga in a muddy puddle. It would never have happened if it weren’t for a group of girls that bumped into you on purpose.

Your emotional breakdown ended when Atsumu found you in that pitiful state, squatting by a murky ditch with a floating black and white book. He had stumbled upon you by coincidence, as he was buying a Pocari Sweat.

He recognised your (h/c) locks and your figure even from afar, and when he realised you were crying, he was stumped. Sure, you would cry when he tugged at your hair during fights, but for him to see your tear stained face outside arguments felt weird.

Atsumu remained silent, standing near you as you sniffled. You knew he was standing behind you, you could tell him from the hairdo in the shadow looming over you.

Instead of asking what had happened, his eyes scanned the scene and realised that a limited edition manga was floating in the dark brown puddle. Probably yours, he had thought. He connected the dots instantly. Atsumu may be childish at times, but he wasn’t an imbecile.

The blonde setter knew how much you loved your manga, how brightly you would beam whenever you got your hands on them. For you to ruin it must have felt like a heartbreak, or worse.

“Was that the one we bought two days ago?” He mumbled, and you nodded meekly.

With a soft sigh, he approached the vending machine. After slotting his coins in and pressing a button, a drink dropped to the bottom. He bent down to scoop it out, mumbling as he did so.

“You can borrow mine, if ya want.”

At that moment, your mind went blank. This immature boy was going to lend you his? It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this was anyone else, but this was Miya Atsumu you were talking about.

An insolent big shot who refused to let you win. Someone whose mental age degraded when he fumbled with words to support why he deserved to get the first copy. A selfish guy who never wanted to share.

You glanced up at the teen silently, tears still streaming down your face. He flinched as you croaked, “Miya-kun... Are you sick or something?”

“...Never mind. I think I’ll retract my offer!” He huffed, spinning on his heels as he shuffled away.

Scrambling to your feet, you blurted out, “W-Wait! I was joking, I swear!”

You chased after him, and although he couldn’t hear it, you wished Atsumu wouldn’t be able to hear your heart pounding in your chest.

Inevitably, the blonde twin and you grew closer. Sometimes, you would walk with him to school, though it was more like you were third wheeling with him and his brother. The two of them would converse about volleyball, homework, and even little things like bentos and nonsensical topics.

You grew used to their frivolous antics, and Osamu eventually opened up to you as well. The two of them even let you call them by their first names, especially since referring to both of them as ‘Miya’ was confusing.

Atsumu only learnt of your name when you both exchanged it, and when you told him he could call you by your first name, he chaffed you for the overfamiliarity.

There were days when the blonde and you would visit the manga store together. And in time to come, the teenager grew fond of your ebullient nature towards comics. He would poke fun of you for reading ‘unfeminine’ genres, such as horror and sci-fi. Whenever he found you peeking at boy love books, you never heard the end of it.

At the same time, you began to appreciate him, despite his snide remarks and snarky attitude. There were times when his jokes crossed the line you, making you pout and sometimes cry, but he would apologise through his actions, like gifting you the new arrival of your favourite manga.

It was almost impossible to get him to apologise, due to his pride, but he always made up with you in his own way. And for that, you were grateful.

As months passed and you both became close friends, Atsumu began hanging out with you during school hours. On one occasion, the both of you hid in the rooftop to eat lunch. Osamu wasn’t present due to a cold, so it was just the two of you.

Picking up an octopus shaped wiener, you gave it a half hearted glance before popping it into your mouth. Atsumu was rambling about morning practice, blathering on how pissed he was that his brother wasn’t around to spike his perfect sets.

Suddenly, without thinking, you interrupted. “You know, you’re not a bad guy, Atsumu.”

Your eyes were fixated on his when you blurted out. His cheeks were stuffed with rice as he turned to you, surprised. With a perked brow, he gawked at you like you had grown a second head.

“Wait, are you falling for me already, (y/n)?” His deep, buttery voice was muffled by the contents in his mouth.

You grinned and waggled your brows. “No way, your personality is like sewage water.”

With a giggle, you leaned in to take away the small grain lingering by his lips. Your soft knuckles brushed against the corners of his lips and he swore he had stopped breathing.

Atsumu’s cheeks were dusted pink at your kind yet intimate gesture. Nobody had done that to him before, and he was unsure of what to feel.

Taking notice of his sudden silence, you raised your brows. “Atsumu, are you okay?”

“Haaaah–?! What are you talking about, I’m perfectly fine!” He scrunched his brows together, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Then he turned away, his back facing you as he scarfed down the remains of his lunch.

You tilted your head, unsure of what had happened, but resumed eating too. Truthfully, he was a little abashed. Ever since then, his heart would beat a little faster for you too.

Atsumu’s presence in your previously dull life meant new found colours. Days went by in a blur, with jokes, nonsense and memorable memories. He had snuck into your life when you least expected it, and so did you in his.

You began watching the volleyball team‘s matches. Sitting in the back row, you would cheer for Atsumu in your own special way: inwardly.

You didn’t understand much about the game, but you knew that your blonde friend loved it more than anything else, even his manga. So it must have meant something strongly to him, and as a friend, you had to support him.

The game was moving quickly, a bit too quickly for your taste. You didn’t comprehend what was happening, but at least Inarizaki was winning. The intimidating black screen beside the court flashed with a new digit, eliciting an eruption of cheers from the cheer squad.

“Isn’t he cute? He’s kinda dreamy,” a girl in front of you sighed to her friend, and you perked up instantly. Unconsciously, you began eavesdropping. “I wonder if Atsumu-kun has a girlfriend...”

“Are you kidding? Men that hot are either gay or taken!” Her peer bubbled with conceited giggles.

You wrinkled your nose at the insensitive response, but you mulled over her words. You had never seen Atsumu with a girl before. However, there were instances when you stumbled upon him during a confession. You would hide in a bush or behind a wall, listening curiously as the girl rambled on about how much she loved or admired him.

Without fail, his words would be laced with distaste while turning them down. Usually with harsh responses like ‘you don’t even know me’ or ‘I betcha say that to every guy’. He would even go as far as ripping a love letter to shreds.

They were total knock outs to the girls’ feelings. And as they ran away in tears, you couldn’t help but feel devastated for them. Atsumu sure was a prick at times.

“Him? Having a girlfriend? Never in a million years,” you mumbled under your breath.

Strangely, your chest had tightened a little with the thought.

The game finished shortly and the volleyball team gathered together to thank the watching spectators. Atsumu’s eyes bore holes into the black banner hung over the wall when suddenly, he glanced in your direction.

You flinched under his discerning gaze, stiffening nervously. He didn’t know that you were here until now.

His eyes narrowed a bit before a smirk settled on his sweat stained face. Your face burned, a little too hotly for your liking, and you looked down at your shoes to hide it. Why was he staring at you like that?

The girls in front of your row squealed that he was looking in their direction, but when they called out to him, he looked away. His cold attitude almost made you snigger.

Now that the match was over, you decided it was time to head home. You were ready to descend a flight of stairs when a familiar voice called your name. Spinning around, you came face to face with the handsome blonde, who was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Didn’t know you came,” he breathed, arms akimbo as you cocked your head.

“Yeah, I wanted to cheer for Osamu.” You gave him a cheeky, lidded eye smile. An irk mark formed on his temple as he chopped your head with his hand.

The two of you went off after that: you teasing him on his missed serve and how his brother had to pick up his slack. Atsumu bared his fangs and fired empty threats and curses, all the while you pulled your bottom eyelid and blew a raspberry mockingly.

A dark haired teen in a jersey with the number ten stood idly by his teammates. Leaning on a railing, he hummed. “Who’s that, Osamu?”

The mentioned twin watched his brother and you with a softened expression. As the two of you fought like cats and dogs, he chuckled. “Someone who can stand Atsumu more than me.”

“Huh... If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re in love.”

The Inarizaki volleyball club watched as Atsumu pinched your cheeks and spread them ruthlessly, earning a high pitched whine from you. You resorted to clawing his face and Osamu had to put an end to both of your antics–

The voice on the intercom derailed your train of thought. Getting up, you stumbled out of the train in a daze.

You had unwittingly gone down memory lane, a bit too much. As your heels tapped against the concrete sidewalk, you glanced up at the dark sky twinkling with a streak of stars. Clouds rolled by leisurely, and waning luna peeked from her wispy blanket.

The rest of your high school had gone by in a blur, most of it involving Miya Atsumu. There was one time when you went to an anime and manga convention with him.

You smiled fondly at the distant memory: Atsumu was teary eyed as he shook hands with his favourite mangaka, who was a hunched over man. Out of respect for him, he knelt down, to be the same height, and took a photo with him in that state. You had never imagined a day would come when he would kowtow to someone.

Taking out your phone, you searched up for his social media and tapped on his Twitter account. There were posts after posts of his activity in the MSBY Black Jackals.

A silly selfie with a dog filter made you titter aloud. The comment section was overwhelmed with questions of his next match, his day, relationship status and the like.

Atsumu was an even bigger shot now. He also moved nearer to his volleyball team’s hometown, just to be able to practice longer hours there. He had left his hometown a while ago, and the both of you hadn’t contacted each other for years.

You once had his phone number, until a sneaky crow took off with your old mobile phone. No clue as to why that had happened.

Sighing at the thought, you stepped foot into your destination: a manga shop. The same one you had first met him. It never really changed; faded beige walls and oak wood shelves with blanched posters. Walking back in here only reminded you of how colourful your life had once been.

“Welcome back, (l/n)-san!” greeted the young boy behind the counter. He was the grandson of the shop owner, whose knees had deteriorated over the years.

You glanced in his direction. “How’s business been, kid?” He gave you an ‘ok’ sign and your expression softened. “Hope it’s okay if I take a bit. I finally found some time to shop.”

“Store’s closing in ten. Don’t take too long!” He waved back earnestly and you nodded.

Making your way past the familiar shelves, the clacking of your heels resounded in the almost empty store. Your hair bounced behind you as you tread past the sports manga section, past a tall, blonde.

You had failed to notice the old friend behind the mask. The blonde man glanced up the moment you passed, and his eyes widened in shock.

Without hesitation, you picked up the latest issue of Jump. It had been a while since you read manga, as everyday was swamped with work. Flipping through the black and white pages, your mind drifted to the reality in the panels.

You were oblivious to the male strutting towards you. As he approached, he took in your more adultly figure and attire. You were dressed in a white button up which clung to your chest, and a black pencil skirt that hugged your waist and hips.

You looked ravishing, to say the least, and Atsumu had to swallow the lump in his throat. There was no mistake, the beautiful woman in front of him was you.

He stopped behind you, hands jammed into his jean pockets before pulling down the white mask. The man with a dark cap atop his fluffy blonde locks peered past your smaller form to take in the manga in your hands. With a soft hum, he spoke up.

“Something’s never change, huh?”

You jolted up in surprise and whipped around, only to come face to face with an intimidatingly tall man. He was almost 190cm, perhaps, and was built with muscles that even his clothes couldn’t hide. His broad chest was in your face, and you had to tilt your head back to meet him in the eye.

With a lopsided grin, the man took off his cap. His tousled blonde locks sprang out of their cage, and your eyes widened in recognition while he smirked, “Sup, (y/n). How are ya?”

“Atsumu?!” You gasped, the Jump going slack in your hands as you dropped it. It flopped onto a pile of similar copies whilst said blonde placed a finger over his lips.

“Shh, I’m here on my day off!” He teasingly hushed, and you instantly clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your confused screaming.

Was this for real? How could the boy, who had painted your monochrome life full of colour, be standing right in front of you? Right now and right here?

Your eyes flitted from the pooling chocolate brown in his eyes to his larger stature. Raking his figure with your wide eyes, you came to a conclusion: Atsumu had changed.

You knew that he was more built from his self-centred topless selfies, but seeing him upclose was a whole different experience. He has grown taller too, though he had always loomed over you either way, but it was still a little frightening how much he could grow even after puberty. Meanwhile, his undercut was relatively the same, except his bangs were not pushed back, unlike before when they were swept to the right.

The only thing that had remained unchanged was the playful glint in his orbs and the smug smile tugging on his lips.

“I...Is it really you, ‘Tsumu?” You murmured, albeit teary eyes as you removed your hand from your mouth.

Running his fingers through his golden mane, he chuckled, “Do ya know anyone with these good looks?”

Your eyes narrowed playfully and you pinched his cheeks. Huffing, you told him off, “Stop trying to be so suave, weirdo!”

“Geh– But seriously, I thought you died or something! Ya never responded to my texts,” He spluttered out as you pulled his cheeks harder, and he managed to add, “But lucky me, you’re still kickin’!”

“Wait, you what?” Your lashes fluttered in confusion. You hadn’t gotten a word he had said since the beginning.

“I tried contacting you once in a while, but you never replied.” He blinked, and you looked down at the ground, suddenly embarrassed.

“Ah... My phone was stolen by a crow. And I lost your number...”

“Wait, for real? That sounds like something straight outta a manga!” He chortled as a sheepish smile snuck on your flushed face.

When Atsumu had calmed down, he placed his hands over yours, detaching them from his cheeks. Holding your hands gently, he wore a mask of calm. You were a bit confused by his sudden, gentle gesture. You gave him a questioning look, although your heart was starting to pound uncontrollably behind your ribs.

Squeezing your hand lightly, he began quietly. “(y/n), I know it’s been a long time and all... But I never forgot the times we had together. And, well, I know it’s kinda late, but I liked you.”

A blush crept up on both of your faces as he continued clumsily. “I kinda still do, so, well... If you’d like, we should–“

“Shop’s closing!” Atsumu and you jumped up in surprise. The boy was standing at the end of the section, a look of genuine surprise on his baby face. Glowering, the blonde barked fiercely.

“You ruined it, ya moron!”

The teen flinched before scuttling away. You burst into giggles as the upset athlete scowled. Whipping his head back to you, he scrunched his brows together, exasperated.

“What’s so funny?” He enquired, still wearing a frown.

Breathing shakily, you wiped away a tear in your eye. “You never really changed, Atsumu!” With a lidded eye smile, you grinned at him innocently, heart swelling with nostalgia.

His glare softened at your expression. Shooting a quick glance at the returned boy, who was peeking from the shelves anxiously, he clicked his tongue.

“Let’s ditch this place,” he grunted, taking your hand in his again as he dragged you out of the shop. You stumbled but eventually matched his pace.

With an apologetic glance at the young boy standing in the shop, you turned back to Atsumu. “Still as mean and pushy as always, aren’t cha?”

The faux blonde gave you a side glance, still pulling you along. Eye rolling, he slapped back on his cap and looked ahead, “Shut up.”

Neither Atsumu nor you couldn’t deny that both of your hearts were pounding. The two of you ended up taking a long stroll in your hometown, catching up on the pass few years and more. The night also had ended on a high note.

Once again, Miya Atsumu’s vibrant colours had seeped back into the monochrome panels of your life. Perhaps, this time, a romance would bloom between the two of you.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　fin.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu request #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x fem reader #🍡.atsumu

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imjustwritingg · 3 years

Text

you can hear it in the silence

This takes place after Jay gets shot and the hospital scene in season 7, loosely based on the song “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift. I’ve had this stored away half-finished for quite a while and put a crazy spin on it after seeing a prompt on Twitter. It also seems pretty fitting that I finished this specific one on the same day that JLS’s interview came out where he politely disregarded Linstead and said Upstead rights. Enjoy and let me know what you think. 💜

Also here: AO3 & FanFic.Net

cause you can hear in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love, true love

you're in love

XXX

“I can’t figure him out. He’s the first one through the door, a war vet, and he’d rather take a bullet than get the flu shot.”

“It’s hard because you love him.”

“When you were in surgery, no one knew what was going to happen and it made me realize I wanted to tell you something.”

“What were you gonna say?”

Hailey has replayed those moments from the hospital every day in her head since they first happened. Vanessa had straight up called the blonde out on her feelings, that it wasn’t just about her partner, Jay Halstead, but everything else he had become over the last few years of he and Hailey working together. A trusted confidant. Her best friend. Someone she could depend on endlessly. The man she had fallen for without even realizing she was falling in the first place.

When Jay had been given the all-clear to go home Hailey had somehow found the courage to finally tell him about her feelings for him. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something else were to happen and she never got the chance to tell him the truth about how she really felt towards him. Her heart always seemed to ache in that way where she could barely breathe around him and she wanted nothing more than to admit her feelings and hope for the best.

The words had been there right on the tip of her tongue, but with one ring of his undercover phone she was pulled back to reality. The walls shot up around her heart again, made her second guess everything up to that point, and she retreated back into herself as if it were some twisted sign from the universe screaming at her, “no, don’t do it!”

Could she really tell him the truth? And should she? Or would it ruin their friendship and the partnership they’d nearly perfected over the time spent working together? She just wasn’t sure. All of these questions plagued her mind since that day, but she knew she couldn’t voice them out loud. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

XXX

Jay had returned to work a week after his release from the hospital, but he remained on strict desk duty. He was itching to get back out into the field, but Voight had made it clear that, that wasn’t happening until the sling was off his shoulder and he got explicit written permission from his doctor. So, he stayed in the bullpen, pushing paperwork and helping to find leads for his team however he could.

When he saw his partner and Burgess at Platt’s desk that night after his first shift back, he couldn’t help the pride he felt inside of him knowing what Hailey had done to capture the perp.

“I heard you made a nice disarm,” he says while looking at Hailey.

Her face immediately breaks out into a shy smile. “Oh man. You want details?”

“Yeah, I’m losing my mind,” he tells her.

“After six days?” Kim teases.

“After six minutes,” Jay emphasizes with a slight shake of his head.

Before the three of them can make a quick escape from the district, Platt calls out to Kim making her hang back. She says a quick goodbye to the duo, leaving Hailey and Jay to themselves. Hailey looks at her partner and nods to the door, and the pair make their way down the stairs towards the exit.

The bitter winds of Chicago’s winter season meet them eagerly as the pair exit the district. Hailey isn’t sure how it happens, but they end up nearly shoulder to shoulder as they walk down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Each time they almost brush against one another she feels a rush of heat move through her body from the proximity alone. Trying to ignore her feelings was proving to be more and more difficult with each moment that passed between her and the man at her side.

“Beer and story-time at my place?” Jay suggests as they near the lot.

“Give me about an hour?” Hailey counters. She just needs a little bit of time to herself to try and clear her head.

“Sure. I’ll order food from that Greek place you like,” Jay says.

She smiles at him. “Sounds good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Jay gives her one of his grins, one that Hailey has come to realize is only ever used with her and one that should be considered illegal, and then the two go their separate ways.

XXX

Hailey’s nothing if not punctual. If she says an hour, she means an hour. So when there’s a light knock on Jay’s door thirty minutes after leaving his partner at the district, he’s a bit perplexed. He’s got a pep in his step though as he walks to the door, a grin plastered on his face, and ready to spend his night with Hailey.

“You said an hour. Food’s not here ye-,” his teasing tone fades out as he pulls open the door and he stands silent as he looks at the woman in front of him who most definitely is not his current partner.

“Hi Jay.”

“Erin.”

Every emotion a person could ever possibly feel is felt by Jay within seconds of each other as he stands in front of Erin Lindsay for the first time in almost four years. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders in waves and she’s not dressed in some fancy pantsuit, but there’s still something about the way she stands with her hands clasped together in front of her that seems like she’s got things all figured out now.

All he can do is stare at the woman in front of him, as if he’s just seen a ghost. And maybe he has, as memories of their days spent together, both professionally and privately, overload his brain. It causes him to grip the door handle so tight his knuckles turn white.

“What are you doing here?” He finally gets out.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m here for work. Heard you went and got yourself shot again.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Hank tell ya that?”

Erin raises her eyebrows at him then and finds herself smirking at him. “First name basis with him now, eh?”

“You’re a little late. It’s been a few weeks since the shooting,” he says, ignoring her comment. His voice is strong and curt, the complete opposite of what it’d been mere moments before when he thought it was Hailey at his door.

“I was deep in a case. I didn’t know until about an hour ago when I talked to Hank on the phone,” she explains.

He just shakes his head at her. “Doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here, Erin?”

“He told me how bad it was. I was in town and I wanted to know that you were okay. Can I come in? Please?”

Jay stares at her for a moment, wanting to say no, but something inside of him doesn’t let him get the word out despite the whisper of a voice in the back of his head telling him it was a mistake. He lets out a long sigh and steps aside instead, opens the door fully, and allows her to enter. He closes the door behind her after she steps inside and the two of them stand across from each other in his living room. Jay leans back onto the top of his couch, his arm still in the sling and his other hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans while Erin stands off to the side with her hands in her jacket now.

“What could you possibly have to say to me after all this time that a phone call couldn’t do?”

“I know how I left things Jay. I know I hurt you and I know I’m probably an idiot for showing up like this after everything we’ve been through. I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.”

Jay scoffs at her, shaking his head. “After everything that happened? You mean when you left without saying a word to me or to anyone besides Hank? Or do you mean when I texted and called and left a dozen messages, and you didn’t have the decency to respond to a single one to let me know you were at least okay?”

The combination of the last few years of keeping it all locked up inside of him, then unloading it during therapy, and now seeing her in front of him like nothing ever happened pushes him over the edge. She really showed up, expecting years of anger and hurt and pain to be swept under the rug as if her leaving hadn’t destroyed him for a period of time.

Erin just stares back at him and doesn’t speak. Hearing the anger in his voice and seeing the pain of what she’d left behind in his eyes wasn’t something she had prepared herself for on her way over to his apartment. She takes in the lingering stain of almost healed bruises on his skin, the sling in which his arm rests. She’s beginning to think this was nothing, but a mistake. That the look in his eyes now is going to be another memory that haunts her.

Erin pulls her hands out of her pockets and takes a step forward. She doesn’t touch him, she won’t, but she needs to be closer to him, needs him to hear her words and look him directly in the eyes when she says them.

“I’m sorry, Jay.”

His eyes immediately close as he hears the words come out of her mouth. He hadn’t realized all this time that he was waiting for something from her. An explanation. An apology. Some sort of something that would make him feel some sort of relief or closure. Anything.

He opens his eyes a moment later when there’s another knock at his door and he thanks the heavens or the universe or whatever it is for the interruption.

He lets out a deep sigh as he walks to the door and when he pulls it open, he feels both relieved and panicked when he sees Hailey standing in front of him. It takes all of two seconds for her eyes to meet his and for a grin to appear on her face when she sees him. And then another two seconds later, her eyes find Erin standing behind him and her smile is gone. She glances between them, noticing the obvious tension that hangs in the air around them all now.

“Erin,” Hailey breathes out.

Erin offers a smile and a small wave. “Hey Hailey. Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it‘s been a minute. How ya been?” Hailey asks. It’s a poor attempt to be polite and make small talk, but she’s not dumb. She knows what she’s just walked in on and all she wants to do now is to turn around and leave and return home.

Erin shrugs. “Busy. Work has been crazy.”

Hailey nods then, not saying anything else and not wanting to continue the conversation. She knows exactly who Erin had been to Jay at one point, and seeing the woman who caused him so much pain and heartache causes Hailey to immediately be defensive and cautious.

“So um, rain check then? We’ll catch up another time,” Hailey says a second later, looking at Jay.

That was the last thing Jay wanted, but he nods anyway. He can tell she’s uncomfortable and he can’t exactly blame her. He’s not so comfortable himself.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her.

Erin watches the two, a small knowing smile appearing on her face. She watches Jay as he watches Hailey, his eyes following the blonde as she walks away from him and down the hallway. The look on his face tells Erin everything she needs to know.

Jay only closes his apartment door when he hears the elevator doors chime open and sees Hailey step inside the elevator car. He turns back to Erin, running his free hand over the back of his head, while she leans against the back of his couch now with her arms crossed in front of her.

“How long has that been going on?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “How long has what been going on?"

Erin nods to the door, a smirk on her face now. “You and Hailey.”

“There’s nothing going on there. We’re just partners,” Jay tells her.

Erin nods, but the smirk doesn’t leave her face and despite everything, Jay still knows her well enough to know she isn’t gonna let it go. “You and I were just partners at one point too, ya know? We may not be in each other’s lives anymore, but I can still tell when you’re lying.”

“How long you in town for?” He asks her, ignoring her words.

She’s still smirking, but lets him deflect. “I head back to New York tomorrow afternoon.”

“You should go and see Voight before you leave. I’m sure he’d like to see you,” he tells her.

Erin nods, but doesn’t move. “You’re good, right? You’re okay?”

He knows she’s not only asking about the shooting, but everything else. His PTSD, his past, his life.

“I’m good Erin. I’m really good,” he assures her with a smile.

Erin nods again, looking down at the floor. When she raises her eyes back to his again he sees the tears and a look of realization in them.

“We won’t ever be friends again, will we?” Erin asks even though she already knows the answer.

“I don’t think we were ever really friends, Erin. Not really. You never let me in. I mean, really let me in. And I know I didn’t do the same with you either. Especially near the end. We both said and did things back then. We just didn’t work,” he says.

There is a sense of relief that overwhelms his senses as he says the words out loud, like he’s been needing to say them to her. And they sting like a slap to the face, but Erin gets it. She can’t hold any of it against him because he’s right. Things had been messy between them, to put it lightly. They both had their issues, together and apart, and they’d never quite learned how to deal with things. She knows he isn’t being vicious. He’s just being honest. He’s just being Jay.

“I wish things had been different for us. If I could go back and do it again, I would do it right,” Erin tells him, her voice sincere as she stands up straight and takes a step toward him.

“Can I at least hug you goodbye? We didn’t get that the last time I left,” she says quietly.

Jay nods and reaches for her with his good arm, wrapping it around her shoulders while Erin’s snake around his waist, careful of his sling. He gives her a squeeze and she does the same before the two separate, and Erin makes her way to the door. She pulls it open, but then turns around to face him one last time.

“If she doesn’t already know, you should tell Hailey how you feel,” Erin tells him.

He doesn’t try to play it off this time. He knows he’s been found out and he doesn’t have the energy to try and lie about it anymore, so he just shrugs.

“Not sure getting involved with another partner is the smartest idea. Didn’t work out so well last time,” Jay says. He makes a bad joke, a jab at them, and it’s a lame attempt to downplay his feelings and the conversation at hand, and Erin just rolls her eyes at him.

“Look, you can lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself. You should tell her Jay. I can see she feels the same.”

She gives him one last smile and then she’s gone. And he’s left with the closure he never got from her before, but also with more questions than ever plaguing his mind now.

Jay makes his way to his sofa, plops down, and leans his head back against the cushions. There’s another knock on his door and he curses as he stands. It’s the delivery guy with the food he had ordered earlier. He pays the delivery guy and closes his door, looking down at the bag in his hand for barely a moment before a smile appears on his face. He’s exhausted and his shoulder is throbbing in discomfort, but he realizes right then there’s only one place else he’d rather be.

XXX

Hailey’s head is reeling by the time she gets back to her place. She kicks her shoes off as soon as she walks through her front door and then goes straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She’s still in disbelief and shock that Erin had shown up out of the blue. A part of her feeling angry, annoyed, but mostly she’s just confused and curious.

Why had she come back? And why now, years later? Did she want Jay back? Did he want her back? Too many questions were clouding her head and she needed them to disappear immediately.

She pours herself a glass of whiskey and knocks it back quickly, enjoying the momentary burn as it slips down her throat.

She’s not sure how much time passes between knocking back her first drink and now sipping on her third, when a loud knock sounds at her door. She groans out, slightly annoyed, thinking it must be Vanessa. Her roommate was quick as a whip and damn good police, but the younger officer had a bad habit of forgetting her keys.

Hailey makes her way to the door, shuffling her socked feet against the hardwood floors and pulls the door open hastily. She doesn’t expect to see her partner standing on the other side and takes a small step back in surprise.

“Hi,” Jay says to her with a shy smile on his face.

“Hi,” Hailey breathes out.

Jay doesn’t miss the way her voice seems to crack with just one word. Her eyes are glassy, but he can’t tell if she’s been crying or drinking, or both. He nods down to the bag of take out and beer in his good hand.

“Too soon for that rain check?” He asks her with a smirk now.

Hailey offers him a small smile and pulls the door open further, taking another step back so Jay can step inside. She closes the door behind him and leads him through the kitchen. He clocks the bottle of amber liquid on the counter as he follows Hailey to the living room, and then the two sit down on the couch.

“Whiskey huh?” He asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen with a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was thirsty,” Hailey claps back with a smirk of her own.

Jay shakes his head at her before reaching for the bag of food. He pulls out several containers, handing Hailey’s food over to her, and the two dig in.

They eat in silence, stealing glances from the other every so often. Jay can tell something is off with his partner and he’s certain it has to do with the fact that she’d seen Erin in his apartment not even an hour ago. He can also tell she’s keeping her distance from him. Had it been any other time they’d be sat together knee to knee, eating their food, knocking back beers, and griping over some sporting event playing on television. Instead, Hailey sits with her legs crossed like a pretzel, keeping space between them, as she stays as close to the end of her couch as she can.

What he can’t gather is why she’s so distant with him. And then he remembers Erin’s words from earlier.

“I can see she feels the same...”

Did Hailey feel something for him? Something more than normal partners should feel for one another? She couldn’t think anything happened with Erin, did she? Not after all this time. Not after everything the two of them had been through together.

Jay knew this was new territory for them. They’d never crossed this line before. The line of professionalism and friendship. But looking at her now, Jay was sure there was never a time before tonight that he’d felt so awkward around Hailey. That he couldn’t get a solid read on her and it was killing him.

“You okay?” He finally asks after they finish eating. He turns his head to look at her and leans against her couch with his arms spread out over the back.

“I’m fine. Guess I just didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” Hailey tells him as she takes a pull from her beer.

“How come?” Jay presses.

Hailey raises an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he was serious, and he just shrugs making her laugh. The sound alone makes him smile. Despite whatever was or wasn’t happening between them, he could at least still make her laugh.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I thought it was you knocking on my door,” Jay says, reaching for his own beer.

“What did she want?” Hailey asks, unable to help herself.

“See how I was doing. Apologize. She’s here for work and Voight mentioned the shooting. I don’t know. Guilty conscience, I guess.”

“And how do you feel about that? Her being back, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.

“She’s not back. She’s leaving tomorrow.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Hailey pushes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jay counters.

Hailey shrugs. “Lot of history there.”

“I feel like there’s too much history, but there’s also nothing left between me and Erin. There are no feelings there whatsoever. I’ve moved on,” Jay tells her.

Hailey nods slowly, taking another sip of her beer and taking in his words as she looks down into her lap. She starts fiddling with the label on her beer bottle, needing to busy herself with anything other than looking in his eyes. A part of her is nervous at what she might find in those green eyes she had come to enjoy looking into so much. Maybe lies, or worse, truth.

“Hailey.”

How was it possible to both love and hate the way his voice sounded saying her name?

She takes a quick breath and looks up, meeting his eyes. Green. Smiling. Honest.

“Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” she says as she runs her free hand through her hair.

Jay shakes his head at her. “Tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.”

He needs her to tell him. He’s practically begging her with his eyes, but Hailey just shakes her own head at him then and stands from the couch.

“I really am tired. Maybe we should call it a night. It’s been a long day for both of us. Thanks for stopping by and for dinner, but I just wanna go to bed.”

He realizes she isn’t exactly asking for him to leave, but rather telling him as she carries her beer and grabs their empty food containers, and then makes her way to the kitchen. He lets out a deep sigh before he gets up from the couch and follows her. Her back is facing him as she puts her glass from earlier in the sink and stores the whiskey away in a cabinet.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Jay walks up behind her and reaches a hand towards her. He feels her body go rigid the second his hand lands on her waist, and then he hears the deep breath she takes.

It’s the first time they’ve touched one another in such an intimate way that wasn’t case related or him comforting her or shielding them from flying bullets in a surveillance van. It was just them.

He pulls at her side, forcing her to turn around and his heart aches at the sight of her blue eyes. Erin was right. Hailey does feel something for him. It’s splayed out all over her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Do you really want me to leave?” He asks. His voice is so quiet he’s not sure she even hears him.

He watches as she sucks in another breath and then shakes her head slowly, almost hesitantly. He feels his fingers twitch at her waist and he takes another small step closer towards her so they’re nearly chest to chest. His arm is around her now, his hand on her lower back.

“Can I stay?”

All she can do is nod her head. And then she reaches around her back for his hand and leads him up the stairs to her bedroom. They don’t say another word to each other. When they reach her room, Hailey releases his hand and grabs a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt from her dresser, then disappears into the bathroom. Jay slips the sling from his shoulder to remove his sweatshirt before carefully sliding the contraption back on over his t-shirt. He kicks off his jeans then as Hailey enters the bedroom again.

Her eyes linger on him for a moment as he stands in the middle of her bedroom in just a t-shirt and boxers. She gives him a shy smile and then nods to the bed. She takes the left side; he takes the right. And it feels so natural, like it’s not at all the first time they’re about to share a bed together.

They lay next to one another, ample space between them under the covers because he is still a gentleman and doesn’t want to overstep with her. He hears her blow out a deep breath next to him, and he turns his head slightly to look at her. There’s just enough light steaming in through her bedroom windows from the streetlights outside that he can make out the profile of her face, the angle of her jawline, and how she’s got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

The awkward tension from earlier still somewhat lingers, but there’s a strange sense of comfortability around them now too. Because no matter what happens they’re still just Hailey and Jay. They’re still them. And before he can think twice he’s reaching his hand out under the covers to find hers. The sudden contact of his skin and the squeeze of his fingers against hers makes her jump and she turns her head to seek out his eyes in the slight darkness.

There’s a strange look on his face, one that she has seen before, but has tried to ignore. The look that tells her he feels it between them too, even though neither have admitted it or said anything out loud yet.

“You’re my best friend. You know that right?” He asks her then. His voice is deep and quiet, and he squeezes her hand again.

Hailey nods, realizing she’s been staring at him in silence this whole time before she says, “you’re my best friend, too.”

Jay squeezes her fingers once more and it’s quiet again as they lay side by side in her bed. He can feel it in the silence though. He can feel it in the slow brush of her thumb moving back and forth over the top of his hand. He can feel it in the way her eyes stare back at him.

There’s something palpable between them. Undeniable. It’s in everything they do and don’t do, everything they say and don’t say. They both know it, but say nothing else as they drift closer together in Hailey’s bed, not letting go of one another’s hand.

They don’t need to say anything because they know it’s just a matter of time before things change again for them. Until they finally break from their stubbornness and trepidation and insecurities that have stemmed from their broken pasts. They know this thing between them is inevitable.

#chicago pd #upstead #upstead fic #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay x hailey

83 notes · View notes

shingia · 3 years

Note

Hi hi i saw the weekly event on your blog from some other blog

Is it okay if i request one with osamu and with 😳 emote

Thank you for doing my request 👀

heyy !! no problem, i gladly wrote it <333 flustered osamu is a very inspiring concept 😌

⇢ since valentine’s day is still pretty recent, i kinda went with this idea, hope you’ll like it !

⇢ osamu x gn! reader | word count : 0.7K

on this morning of february 14, the students of inarizaki could be divided in three distinct groups.

the lucky ones with designated valentines, smitten significant others from whom they knew they would get at least one gift. the hopeful ones, those who were dreaming about a special someone confessing their undying love for them with a rose. and the so-called revolutionists, who refused to give in to capitalism by participating in this commercialized absurdity.

and then there was osamu. who had tried to pretend to be sick in hope that he’d get to stay in bed all day. but his brother had tried to trick their mom too many times already, she was not falling for it anymore.

« ya look like shit » atsumu told him as they got off the bus.

osamu’s only answer was a shrug as he shoved his hands in his warm pockets. of course he looked like shit, he had not slept a wink. suna’s words from yesterday had been spiraling in his brain all night :

« dude, i heard them talk. it’s all planned ! they’re gonna confess to atsumu tomorrow »

so yeah, sure, osamu looked like shit - but he did not have anyone to look good for. unlike you, who had probably spent an extra thirty minutes getting ready tomorrow.

he could not blame you, confessing to atsumu was probably nerve-racking ; and there was always the fear of rejection. the same fear that made it impossible for him to confess his love for you after about a year spent admiring you from afar, and hoping he would once get to call you his.

since suna had not heard when you were planning on talking to atsumu, osamu decided that it would be safer for him to just avoid his brother all day. because the last thing he wanted was to witness this heart-wrenching scene with his own eyes.

your first period was starting in about 10 minutes, so the hallways were still empty and quiet : just what osamu was looking for. a short moment of peace before his brother would come running to tell him about your incredible confession, and how you were now officially dating. maybe suna would even show him a video...

but, against all odds, it was you who came running towards him, and he started praying that you were not coming for advice.

« ya talked to tsumu ? » he asked, shoulder leaning against the wall.

« i did. he told me you’d be here » you panted, breathing made difficult by both the running and the lump in your throat.

it did not take more words than this for osamu to stand up straight. because why on earth would you be there with him when you knew atsumu was outside ?

« listen, uh... » you started, your weigh shifting from one foot to the other. « it’s probably very obvious but i’m actually terrified right now, so i’ll be quick... i really, really like you. and i have liked you for quite some time actually »

and you punctuated your sentence with a relieved sigh. it was worse than what you had planned on saying, but it least it was done. you were not in control of anything anymore, the ball was in his court.

if you had not told him that you were terrified, osamu would have probably asked you to repeat everything from a to z. his eyes were wide, and he was pretty sure that his cheeks were not that hot ten seconds ago. but his mouth was still shut, and you felt the need to fill in this long silence.

« i know confessing on valentine’s day is horribly cliché but... i feel like i needed a special occasion to get this off my chest an- »

« would ya like to go with me on the most cliché date ever ? » he blurted out, mouth dry from stress.

whatever this meant, an ecstatic ‘yes’ slipped out of your lips the second he was done talking. maybe too ecstatic ?

« thanks for being braver than me » he sheepishly chuckled, his hand nervously resting on his neck.

osamu might have seemed stressed in the outside... but in reality he was only showing half of the consuming anxiousness he felt on the inside. which only doubled in intensity when you left a gentle kiss on his cheek before walking away.

it was terribly silly, but osamu felt the irrespressible urge to follow you, like he never wanted to leave your side ever again.

of course he tried to shake the thought ; but like the feeling of your lips against his skin, it lingered long after you had gone - leaving him smiling at an empty corridor, but feeling like the happiest man on earth.

@toworuu

#i wrote this while fighting sleep so i apologize for the typos :(#weeklypromptevent #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu drabble

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hotmesshapa · 3 years

Text

Hold On • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: some angst, a whole lotta fluff

word count: 1.6k

warnings: some strong language, descriptions of an anxiety attack

a/n: I started writing this at like 2am one night when I was in my chan feels, then homeboy played Michael Bublé during his last vlive and I took that as my sign to finish it lol. I also highkey recommend the song mentioned in this it totally didn’t make me cry while I was editing this noooo not at all 🖤

You pace back and forth in front of your front door, chewing on your bottom lip, occasionally checking the time on your phone as you impatiently wait for the mail to come. You try to distract yourself by scrolling through instagram and literally every other app you have, but your brain is too focused on one thing: an acceptance letter.

It’s a sunny but chilly Friday of what normally would be a regular week. This week, however, is the week universities send out their acceptance letters, and the first four days were complete agony of not hearing anything back. You had applied to one of the most prestigious graduate schools in the country, one that’s been around for hundreds of years and for some reason didn’t think it needed to upgrade its acceptance announcements with the current century. Honestly, you didn’t know people still sent actual letters anymore, but there’s something a bit comforting in receiving a physical copy of something that could be so important and life-changing to you. You had worked your ass off the day you started your courses in college, ultimately graduating two years ago with high honors and glowing recommendations from a few of your professors. Since then, you managed to score two internships in the film industry, all while working a part-time job and somehow not going completely insane. You did everything you could for a spot in that university’s graduate program, but despite everyone telling you that your acceptance is a sure thing, you still were insanely nervous.

To be honest, you don’t need to go to graduate school. Your bachelor’s degree and internships qualify you for any job you wanted in the industry, let alone your work ethic and resume you’ve built over the past two years. But you love learning, and this is the change to to meet new people and gain new experiences that you could only get from a graduate program. And sure, you didn’t need to apply to such a distinguished school, but the perfectionist inside you wanted the best of the best, and nearly all of your professors and friends encouraged you to apply, so how could you not?

After a few minutes of constant pacing, you check your phone again and let out a shaky breath, your nerves nowhere near being calmed. You sit yourself down in from of the door’s little mail slot and just stare.

“Baby,” Chan chuckles, watching you from the couch as he works on his laptop. “The mail isn’t gonna get here any faster if you stare at the door.”

“I know, but who knows, maybe the mailman will be able to sense my intense gaze from wherever he is and speed over.”

You hear your boyfriend rise from the couch and walk to where you’re planted, sitting behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You worked hard for this, Y/N, they’d be crazy not to accept you. I’m sure you got in.”

You hum in appreciation and lean back against chest, smiling as he tenderly kisses your temple. Chan, being the actual angel that he is, was one of the main reasons you had managed not to completely lose your shit throughout the entire application process and waiting period. You two know each other like the back of your hand; anytime one of you (mostly you) would get stressed out over something, the other would always be there to help. But for Chan, it’s like he has a sixth sense for knowing when you’re going through it, because he’d be by your side within an instant. He was, and still is, your voice of reason, your comfort, your everything.

He takes your hands in his, gently rubbing circles against your palms. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the letter will arrive any moment now.”

The two of you stare at the door for a few minutes, before you can’t help but check the time on your phone again, and you release a worried sigh, beginning to impatiently tap on the floor. As if he could read your mind, Chan pulls you tighter against his body and snuggles his face into the curve of your neck. “Just relax Y/N.”

Once you manage to calm your nerves down again, he slowly gets up, eliciting a small whimper from you from the loss of his warmth, which only gets you a chuckle in response. “I’m gonna make some hot chocolate, want any?”

“Yes please, with a lot-“

“Of marshmallows, I know,” he laughs as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You smile, resting your chin on your hand, and turn your attention back to the mail slot. You wait as patiently as you possibly can for another five minutes, before you hear a crash from the kitchen. “You okay?” you call out, not taking your eyes off the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine… Just wondering, where do you keep your broom?”

“Christopher Bang, what did you-“

At that exact moment, the mail slot opens and you’re greeted with piles of letters and papers falling into your lap. With shaky hands, you sort through the mail, tossing a couple bills, a magazine, and some weird catalog from a brand you’ve never even heard of aside before finally digging up the letter you’ve been waiting for. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you frantically try to rip it open without giving yourself a paper cut.

“Was that the mail? Did it come?” Chan calls out from the kitchen, but you’re too in your own head to put words together to form an answer.

You finally manage to open up the envelope, your hands trembling as you pull out the letter and slowly unfold it. All the words just seem to blur together, except the ones that catch your attention:

not accepted

In a matter of seconds, you feel yourself spiral. Your breathing begins to become more shallow and quicken, while your mind begins to race a million miles per second, trying to make of what you just read.

What are you gonna do now?

All that work, for what, nothing?

Did you do something wrong?

Is there something wrong with you?

Are you just not good enough?

A tear falls on the paper you’re holding, smearing the ink stating your failure, but you didn’t even realize you were crying until then. You furiously wipe them away with the back of your hand, but no matter what you do, tears just keep falling, and you can feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate, you whole body trembling. You know this isn’t the end of the world, but then why did it feel like it is?

“Y/N? Did you hear-“

You turn to your boyfriend, and the look on your face must have said it all, because the next thing you know, Chan is engulfing you in a warm hug, stroking your hair as you start to sob into his chest. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. Y/N, please listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out.” He kisses the top of your head and continues to let you cry as he hugs you close.

It seems like eternity, but you manage to calm yourself down a bit, clinging to Chan’s hoodie while listening to his steady heartbeat, and you finally bring yourself to look up at him. “I just… I just really thought I was gonna get in,” you say quietly, your eyes welling up again.

He gingerly wipes away the tears from your cheeks and offers you a sympathetic smile. “I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” He pulls you back into a hug, rubbing your back to help ease the knots that had build up there from the stress. “Fuck them,” he mumbles against your hair. “It’s their loss for not choosing one of the smartest and hardest working people on this planet.”

You let out a weak laugh in response, grateful for his attempt to crack some jokes to ease the tension. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, closing you eyes to try to get rid of the stress that lingered in your head.

“I have an idea,” Chan suddenly says, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen in the room. He gently pulls away from you, and you watch in confusion as he makes his way across the living room, taking his phone out from his pocket and placing it on the coffee table.

The next thing you know, Michael Bublé’s “Hold On” fills the room, and a small smile forms on your lips as Chan turns to you, offering his hand. You take it, and he pulls up from where you’re seated and close to his strong body, putting his hands on your waist as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck. Slowly, the two of you begin to sway to the music, and you feel any remaining sadness and tension drain from your body as you dance with your boyfriend, and your smile begins to grow.

“So hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it will be alright,” Chan’s smooth voice sings along with the music, and he’s looking at you with so much adoration, you can feel your heart swell. “Cause it’s you and me together, and baby all we’ve got is time. So hold on to me, hold on to me tonight,” he continues to serenade you, and you can’t help but giggle, causing him to start giggling as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder, releasing a sigh in content as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you Chan.”

“I love you too.”

#bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #bang chan #stray kids

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weallsimpfordabi · 4 years

Text

Switching Sides (Part Four)

Find the other parts here

A/N: Guuuys it’s about to get so good, you don’t even know! Also, soft Dabi is so tragically adorable 🥺

Pairing: Dabi x Reader, Ex!Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: Fluffy feelings, soft Dabi, teasing, flirting

Tag List: @platinumbelle @sweet-bunny-writing @bunbunsblog @kimyona-san

———

“Where are you from?” You asked quietly, looking over at him. He met your gaze, his brows folding his face into a confused expression before he chuckled, looking away from you. You tilted your head, a small smile pulling at your lips as well. “What?” He laughed softly again, looking back at you from across the couch.

“Of all things you could have asked, you wanna know where I’m from? It’s just not what I was expecting, that’s all.” You shrugged, giving him a face that told him to answer your question anyway.

“I never really stayed anywhere for a long period of time other than here. I used to live in Musutafu, but that didn’t last long.” His voice seemed to waver ever so slightly at the end of his statement. You found yourself moving closer to him, something deep inside of you wanting to console him. You didn’t, but he noticed you scooting over to him. “Alright, little mouse, my turn.” He ran his fingers over your neck, right where the bruise was. “Who did you let give you this?”

“Dabi, that’s not any of your business.” You frowned, moving his hand away from you. He hummed, putting his hand right back where it was before.

“Now now, baby doll, I was honest with you, so I expect you to show me the same kindness.” You considered what he said, but you didn’t want to just give him Katsuki’s name, scared his life would immediately be on the line.

“My ex. Don’t ask his name because I’m not gonna tell you, I don’t want you to hurt him.” He nodded, leaning back and opening his legs to stretch. You found your eyes wandering a little, wondering if his burns go all the way over his body or not. He lifted your chin with his finger, smirking at you.

“Don’t get too distracted, baby doll. It’s your turn.” You bit your lip, wanting to ask about his burns. You didn’t know if it would bother him though. Your curiosity started to peak, and you moved even closer to him. His eyes widened a bit as your hand started to reach out to his stapled cheek. He flinched, grabbing your hand quickly. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull your hand back, but he kept it where it was.

“I-I was…Can I touch your face?” Your voice was so soft that it made his heart skip a beat. It was the sweetest sound to his ears, like the song a bird sings in the early morning. He swallowed, his grip on your hand lessening as he hesitantly nodded. “It won’t hurt you, right?” You weren’t sure why you wanted to do this, but it was suddenly the only thing you wanted to do.

He smiled softly, shaking his head. You reached out, making sure your fingers were gentle on his skin. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing as you held his cheek in your palm. You took the opportunity to really look at him, taking in every detail. His skin wasn’t as rough as you thought it would be, in fact, it was really soft. As you did this, he leaned into your hand, almost as if he needed it. You frowned softly, the vulnerability that was being shown taking you aback and making you upset, but you made sure to keep that inside, just in case he wanted to use that against you or something. He reminded you of a sad child, the way he clung to your touch like it had been years since he felt another person's hand on him. And maybe it had, you didn’t know. You ran your thumb over his staples, his body suddenly trembling.

“Fuck, baby, don’t touch me there.” He opened his eyes, devouring you into his electric gaze. “That does things to me that’ll make me go crazy, and I don’t think you could handle that yet.” He turned his head, kissing your palm gently. You blushed, his gravelly voice making you melt. When you realized this, however, you pulled your arm back and moved to where you originally sat. There was no way you were attracted to him, you couldn’t be. He only had you here to get information to kill everyone you care about. He noticed the change in your attitude, shifting back to his original position as well. “My turn.” He snaked his hand to your thigh, resting his rather large hand right under your hip. “What’s your quirk?”

“I can manipulate the humidity in the air around me. If there’s enough, I can use it as a weapon if needed. Like a jet stream of water.” He raised a brow, intrigue setting in. His mind raced with ways he could use that to his advantage. You rested your arm on top of the couch, turning your body towards him as you thought of more questions you could ask him. “Why do you want to attack UA?”

“I don’t necessarily want to attack, I just have some personal business that I don’t care to share with you.” He leaned in close, lingering his lips close to yours, his eyes drinking in how soft they looked before looking up into your eyes. “We don’t know each other well enough for that yet, you said so yourself, pretty girl.” Your breath caught in your throat, looking down at his lips, which were still so very close to yours. You leaned back, but he just followed suit, your back now against the armrest. “Tell me, doll, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is that your question?” You raised a brow, seducing a smirk to pull at his lips. He nodded, one of his hands snaking up your side. You shivered, instincts telling you to run. But, for some reason, your body wasn’t hearing it. “I’m not looking at you in any sort of way, Dabi. You must be seeing things.” He hummed, ducking his head to bury it into your neck. You blushed, thanking whatever gods that he wasn’t looking at you to see your cheeks turn red.

“So, I’m just imagining that your heart is beating faster? Or that your breath keeps getting caught in your throat whenever I get close and touch you?” His voice got gravelly as he spoke, and you cursed quietly as you realized he was right. You had no idea when it happened, but he got you. “Admit it, baby, you want me. Was your ex not enough to satisfy you? Deep down, you know I can make you cum like you never have before.” You scoffed, gently pushing him off of you. You needed to change the subject, fast.

“Tell me a secret that you’ve never told anyone before. It’s not a question but if we’re gonna trust each other, you have to open up.” You knew that meant you would have to do the same, but if it meant keeping your friends safe, then it was worth it, right? He gave you a suspicious look, then racked his brain for an answer that would satisfy you.

“I have a Jacob’s ladder.” He shrugged, and you just looked at him in confusion. You had no idea what that was, and that just made him laugh. A genuine laugh, at that. It was something you never thought you would hear, and it definitely wasn’t something you thought you would enjoy hearing. “It’s a piercing. Well, many piercings.”

“Where?” Your question made him laugh again, but then he got that flirty look he gets with you quite often.

“You’ll find out soon enough, kitten.” He then checked the time, sighing softly. “Looks like our time is up today. I’ll ask a question, then you can get one more in before I get you back.” You nodded, readying yourself for whatever he would throw at you. “Might be a bit forward of me, but,” he paused for a few seconds, “can I kiss you?” You blinked, not prepared for that at all. You bit your lip, surprised you were even considering it. He kept his eyes on you, waiting for you to answer. You weren’t sure why, and it just made you even more suspicious, but a very small part of you might have...wanted to?

“Dabi, why would you want to-“ he cut you off with his lips. They were so soft against yours, almost uncertain, like he didn’t know if he should. His hand held your face, his lips not moving at all. You wrapped your fingers around his larger hand as well as you could, keeping his hand there. He lingered, but not for too long. He pulled away quickly, standing up. Your head felt as if it was short circuiting as you tried to think about what had just happened. He held his hand out to you, offering to help you up. You took it, and he led you to a warp gate.

“Wait, I still have a question,” you pointed out. He nodded, letting go of your hand. You looked away, trying to think of one before you went through the gate. “Why did you want to kiss me?” He suddenly pulled you close, nudging your lips with his and hovering his hand over your neck.

“I told you, little mouse, you’re mine.” It wasn’t completely true, but you didn’t have to know that. He hadn’t been touched so kindly in so long that he let his emotions get the best of him in the moment. But, again, you didn’t have to know that. “Now, go before you get in trouble. I’ll let you have a day away from me tomorrow. Unless you just can’t resist coming back to me, of course.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. There’s that cockiness again. You shook your head, pulling out of his grasp.

“Bye Dabi.” You walked through the gate, touching your lips. It felt like his lips had never left. You shook those thoughts out of your head, making your way home, Dabi being the only thing you could think of the entire way. When you got to the dorms, you saw Katsuki and All Might talking in front of the front door. You ignored the pang of panic in your stomach as you walked past, both of them suddenly getting quiet as you got near.

When you got into your room, you finally checked your phone, noticing two texts. One was from Dabi, and the other was from Katsuki. You opened Katsuki’s first, your stomach dropping.

Suki: I don’t know what exactly is going on, but I can tell you’re in trouble. I’m gonna help you whether you want it or not, Y/N. You can hate me forever, but it’s whatever as long as you’re safe and away from that bastard.

Asshole: I can’t wait to kiss those soft lips again, baby. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.

You let out a string of curses as you started putting pieces together. Katsuki was probably telling All Might everything he knew. You were about to get busted, and if you were being completely honest, you were terrified. Not only were you scared of getting caught, but also by the feelings swirling around in your mind as you read Dabi’s text. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

#angst #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #smut #x reader #bnha #bnha dabi #dabi is touya #dabi x reader #dabi x you #anime #fluff #dabi #my hero academia x reader #my hero x reader #my hero academia #x y/n #x you #bakugou katsuki

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cxptain-carol · 4 years

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧' | 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨

➺ summary: of course it had to be the cool and aloof shoto who you fell for, out of all the boys in class a. for now, you’re content admiring him from afar—but one thing leads to another and now it’s time for you to confess.

➺ pairing: todoroki shōto x reader

➺ word count: 2.7k

➺ warnings: stress/overthinking, general insecurity is mentioned, one bad word (also i briefly mention your quirk & there’s a suggestive comment)

➺ genre: fluff, pining (?)

➺ gender-neutral and racially inclusive reader

➺ a/n: this is just cute cliché fluff that i hope can cheer ya up if needed :) please enjoy as i abuse italics and ellipses...

You were surprised there weren’t rose petals floating in the air and angels singing, to top off just how ethereal Shoto looked in fourth period. Well, fourth period and every day.

Present Mic was talking but his ear-piercing voice might as well have been crickets with how distant you were from the classroom. You were in a Shoto kind of mood today, and just by reassuring yourself that you were a relatively hardworking student, you let school take a backseat to your uncontrollable heart.

It hadn’t even been that long since you finally admitted to yourself that you were most definitely crushing on Todoroki but that didn’t even matter, because it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your thoughts clear of him.

Shoto wasn’t even really your type. He was a bit too quiet and came off a little detached but somehow that just added to your fascination with him. He scared you at first, but now you admired him for his cool nature and genuinely impressive skills. That was really where your problems lay.

Shoto was much too cool and remarkable to like someone like you.

You usually didn’t compare yourself to others (you had a pretty nice Quirk and were good at using it) but of course you couldn’t help but realize you paled in comparison to Todoroki Shoto and it made you unbelievably insecure.

But that didn’t stop you from finding him attractive.

Your right cheek was squished against the palm of your hand, propped up by your elbow on the desk. From your optimal desk placement, it was too easy to watch Shoto out of the corner of your eye, and even turn your head to stare at him when he looked down.

It was definitely creepy, but he was yet to catch you so it was fine.

Shoto brushed his half-red-half-white hair out of his eyes and copied something down, squinting a little bit as he bent over slightly to write. You wanted to squeal but bit your lip to keep it in—he just looked so cute and it was making your heart race.

In the back of your mind, you could hear and process that you were supposed to be paying attention to the directions for something but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Shoto’s serene expression even as he looked up at the board.

Stop it, look away! You were trying to urge yourself but it didn’t seem to work.

Sure enough, Shoto’s bi-colored eyes locked onto yours in a heartbeat and you flinched, jolting out of your comfortable rest and into an upright position pointed straight at the board, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to your face.

✾ ✾ ✾ ✾ ✾

You tapped your fingers on the smooth surface of a clean notebook page, biting the end of your pen as you looked out the window. Most of the Class 1-A students had retreated to their rooms, but you and a handful of others milled around the first floor.

Your legs were tucked under you in your spot on the couch, and you swayed your head slightly to the quiet music playing in your earbuds. There was only one assignment left for you to complete but you were absolutely exhausted already; it had been a long day and you were ready to go to bed. Maybe even think about Shoto before falling asleep.

“Y/N! I was about to go up—wanna come with me?”

You swiftly ripped out your earbuds to see Ochaco, who appeared pretty much out of nowhere, with a bright smile and pink cheeks like always. You smiled involuntarily at the sight of her and nodded, but quickly remembered you weren’t actually finished.

“Oh, um, maybe later? I still have one more thing to do,” you replied, pointing to the blank notebook page.

Ochaco looked disappointed for a split-second but went back to her usual cute grin, leaning over the back of the couch towards you.

“It’s okay! You don’t mind if I sit with you, right?”

“Go ahead,” you said quietly, pausing your music and setting the mess of cords aside while she sat down beside you. You gripped your blue pen tightly and started writing faster, but felt Ochaco staring. You finished up a sentence and finally turned to her. She was still smiling, but in a different way. You had a sinking feeling that you knew where this was going.

“Are you gonna ask about Shoto?” You questioned her timidly, already beginning to sweat in anticipation of the upcoming conversation.

She looked into her lap shyly, her smile slightly fading.

“Well, I just noticed you looking at him today and I wanted to talk to you about it. Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to!” Ochaco’s brown eyes sparkled under the lamps as she looked at you, hopefully.

“It’s fine,” you said, cheeks warm and homework forgotten. “If you really want to know, I like him.”

Not even a moment after the words left your lips, there were hurried footsteps approaching the two of you and a bright pink ball of joy was sitting on the next couch over.

“Really?! Y/N, I think he likes you, too!” Mina contained her excitement to the best of her ability.

You shook your head, barely bothered by the fact that another person knew your secret and more concerned with Mina’s unforeseen confession.

“No way! If he likes anyone, it’s probably not me,” you said, looking over at the table Shoto had been sitting at before going up to his room almost an hour ago.

“I’m telling you! I was watching him this past week and he was looking at you, like, a lot. Oh my gosh, you guys would look so cute together! I almost forgot to tell you that, by the way, thankfully I was eavesdropping,” Mina said. She and Ochaco were both smiling as they stared at you, looking convinced that there was no reason to question the validity of this new “information.”

“But there’s no… no way! I don’t really care if he doesn’t like me back, anyway,” you played around with your fingers, uselessly trying to brush off the false hope that Mina’s words had secretly given you.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at Ochaco, who wore a soft expression on her face.

“I think you should tell him how you feel, after class tomorrow. I trust Mina and after thinking about it, it looks like she could be right! I know you don’t believe us but it couldn’t hurt to go after him, right? I’ll even tell him for you, if you want.”

You had been so sure that Shoto barely noticed you that there was a large possibility that you missed some hints. Of course, the other side of you was completely unmovable. But Mina looked so happy, and Ochaco was so excited too…

“I mean, I’ll think about it,” you said. You couldn’t help but smile as the two girls’ faces lit up.

Mina laughed a bit as she squealed excitedly. “Can I watch the whole thing? I’ll hide behind a wall or something!”

Your face felt hot again as your mind lingered on what you actually got roped into. Confessing to Shoto… alone… with no true confirmation that he even reciprocated your feelings.

The idea of doing such a thing was so unlike you that you wanted to cry out of fear. There was a lot that could go wrong.

“Y/N, you’re gonna be fine. There’s no doubt in my mind,” Ochaco added, sensing your unease.

You nodded, half-terrified and half-excited as you started stacking your books in your arms to go upstairs. Mina hugged you, still giddy over your answer but you could only feel anxious. You hadn’t even considered confessing to Shoto and now you practically didn’t have a choice?

It seemed like you wouldn’t be sleeping a wink that night.

✾ ✾ ✾ ✾ ✾

Red and white.

Your brain was so preoccupied with imagining all the different ways Shoto could react that those two colors were practically etched on the inside of your eyelids.

Of course, the happy-ending scenarios were your favorite to imagine. You don’t stumble over your words or start sweating profusely, and Shoto says he’s been in love with you since the day you first met.

It’s a little too good to be true.

You recognized that and as a result, filled your head with the possibility of rejection and humiliation at the hands of Todoroki. Each time the clock ticks, you prepare yourself for it. You might have been optimistic in most situations, but your love life was really just uncharted territory and you couldn’t afford to think like that.

The sudden scraping of chairs against the floor and chorus of loud voices alerted you that the last class of the day had finished.

And for someone who had just spent hours panicking, you felt oddly ready.

“Psst,” a small voice whispered and you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Mina and Ochaco’s smiles of encouragement. You nervously sent one back before standing up from your seat.

“Go, go, go! We’ll take your stuff with us!”

You picked up your pace towards the back of the classroom as Mina’s fingers poked you in the back.

You can do it, you told yourself, slowly easing your nerves. A small smile formed on your lips but it went away almost instantly when you looked at Shoto and your insecurities began to surface.

Shit, he was just too good-looking.

You took a deep breath and walked the last few spaces until you were right beside Shoto’s desk.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t-

“Hi.”

Your fingers instinctively reached for the back of your neck and you scratched awkwardly, much too shy to look Shoto in the eyes.

“Hi! I was, um, wondering if you could step outside with me for a second? I… I want to tell you something,” you said. See, that wasn’t so bad.

“Oh, sure.”

Why doesn’t he emote?! Maybe he doesn’t care about me at all…

Shoto stood up from his seat, leaving his supplies behind. He was obviously taller standing up but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. It didn’t help that his resting face was handsome, too. You tried to keep your cool but it all felt so different—you went from fantasizing day after day about him to this.

Once you two found a quiet spot further down the hall, you took another deep breath and looked up at Shoto.

He was looking back at you, but not in a way that scared you; in fact, there was something in his gaze that made heat rush to your cheeks and brought your hand back up behind your neck again.

“Um, I know we don’t talk that much but I think you’re really cool,” you began, taking another look at Shoto to see that he had tilted his head to the side, eyeing you as if you were a curious little thing that he simply didn’t understand.

“And… and even if you might not feel the same, I-”

A flash of pink moved somewhere in your field of view.

You looked for it momentarily, causing Shoto to look away from you and in the direction of your line of sight. You tapped his arm lightly, giggling a bit as he looked back down at you, slightly puzzled.

“It’s nothing, sorry,” you said, feeling a little less nervous.

“But I was saying that I think you’re really cool a-and I might have been staring at you a lot for the past few weeks because you’re cute and-” Your eyes widened at the words leaving your mouth and you sneaked a look at Shoto, who seemed equally shocked.

“I mean, y-you are cute but that’s not why- wait, sorry… geez. I, um, like you. As more than a friend.”

Damn, you must have done something pretty remarkable in one of your lifetimes to be able to experience the beauty of Todoroki Shoto.

You bit your lip nervously as you awaited a response, but Shoto’s reaction was somehow much better than anything he could have said.

His relaxed stance tensed up in surprise at your words. You could see his hands shift around inside his pockets and you heard him intake air so cutely it cut through the wall of fear that was built around you since you first approached him. But his face was what made your heart flutter with joy. Even if it was just a light blush, you made his cheeks turn pink.

A hopeful smile stretched across your face as you admired him, waiting patiently as he thought out what to say (and you wished frantically that it turned out in your favor).

“Y/N,” you hopped cheerily at the way he said your name, “I… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I made sure you didn’t notice but I was also watching you. I… think that I like you, too.” Shoto ended his little confession, still pink-cheeked but looking satisfied with himself.

“Really? I mean, wow! I-I can’t believe- but, what do we do now?” You weren’t really looking for an answer; you wanted to jump for joy, maybe even scream. It was like lifting your hood to see the sunlight after weeks of having it drawn shut. You couldn’t tell whether you wanted to kiss Shoto (considering the context of the situation) or just hug him out of blissful relief.

“Well, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Shoto offered, looking down at you, amused at your delight with a hint of adoration in his eyes.

“Yes, of course!” You were done with this awkward conversation: all you wanted to do was feel Shoto’s arms around you. But you knew him well enough to understand he wouldn’t hug you right then.

Shoto wore a small grin as he watched you and after a moment’s contemplation, you beckoned him a bit closer. He obliged, bending slightly.

High off of the rush of the moment, you leaned in and pressed a little kiss to his cheek, right below his scar.

Shoto pulled back slowly, looking thoroughly shocked. You bit your lip again, hoping you hadn’t gone too far.

“W-Wow, thanks,” he managed to say, his face a few shades redder than before. He couldn’t make eye contact with you, instead choosing to stare out the window shyly.

“No problem, I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” you replied, the smile returning to your face. “I guess I’d better get going then.”

You straightened out your blazer and took a step out of the little corner you had been occupying. With a look over your shoulder, your heart fluttered again at the sight of him, flustered and frozen.

“Well, bye Shoto.” You waved at him—he waved back, the rosy blush still prominent on his beautiful face—and turned back around, with a slight bounce in your step.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You spun around eagerly.

“Would you like to walk with me?”

✾ ✾ ✾ ✾ ✾

“I’ll just say it: I knew you could do it, Y/N!” Ochaco was grinning from ear to ear again as the three of you lounged around in Mina’s room, still in your uniforms because you were far too excited to talk about the afternoon’s events.

“And I’ll just say it: I wasn’t watching Todoroki at all before!” Mina chimed in but the smile fell off your face in an instant.

“So I just went into that with nothing even kind of ensuring that he liked me back? Oh my god, that could have gone so wrong,” you sighed in relief, your head in your hands as you looked down at the floor.

“Well, I was just trying to give you a little confidence. I think this just proves that you can pull any guy you want, Y/N.” Mina smirked.

Heat rushed to your face. “I don’t think I’d go as far as to say that.”

Mina ignored you, opting to lean back in her chair and eye you curiously. “Okay, now we have to start talking about the future for you two—this is just the beginning. When do you think you’ll take your relationship to the next level?”

“What?! I-I didn’t realize we’d have to-”

“Y/N! Get your mind out of the gutter! She did not mean it like that!”

329 notes · View notes

ahgasecaratfromn-city · 4 years

Text

Ten Things I Hate About You

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader ft. Haechan, Johnny and mention of Jeno

Words: 7.7k

Genre: Fluff, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, college au

Warning: Tiniest bit of cursing, kissing, family issues, anxiety attack

Summary: You never had the luxury of selecting who you were going to tutor, so when you paired with the only person you disliked, Lee Mark, you couldn’t help but formulate a list of the ten things you hated about him.

A/N: Okay so, I will admit this is longer than I anticipated, my bad. Mark has been stuck in my head and this was my way of getting him out. Basically, each part is a snip bit/ scene from the day named in bold. *This is very very very minimally edited

“Who the hell is that?” was not the most flattering thing someone could say when being given a free tutor. Hell, it wasn’t a flattering thing to say under any circumstance. Yet, there you were, walking slowly towards your literature class’s resident idiot, Mark.

“Me, I’m Y/N,” he looked you up and down, frowning slightly before looking back at the professor. The boy seemed to always believe that his opinions mattered to anyone but himself. He was always screaming his misconstrued thoughts during class or more likely not showing up at all, and everything about him seemed to piss you off.

Maybe it was the way he spoke to people, always assuming he was in the right. Or, maybe it was the fact that he spoke period, always rambling about absolutely nothing while the class was engaged in relevant and important conversation. More likely, it was the permanent grin etched on his face, as if nothing could touch him, not even the failing grade he was receiving in this class.

“Mark, this is quite literally your last shot because there is seriously nothing else I can do for you,” you tuned out the rest of the conversation, only raising an eyebrow once you heard that Mark wouldn’t be able to pass without a certain score on the final.

“And you really should thank Y/N, there are other students she could be helping,” your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, blushing lightly as the men looked at you.

It wasn’t as if you had volunteered to tutor Mark specifically. You had been tutoring since high school and figured it was the perfect work-study job to take up. Except you didn’t choose who to tutor, only which subjects. Unfortunately, literature happened to be one of them, and Mark happened to suck at it.

“Now, both of you get out of here,” he pointed to the doorway with a slight smirk on his face as Mark trudged away clearly annoyed.

“We can work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the test. We can meet up at the library,” you offered, following after the boy who seemed to only quicken his pace. Jerk.

“Not Friday, that’s a busy day,” he shrugged, looking at everything but you.

“The test is three weeks from today and judging by your, uhm previous scores, you need all the time you can get,” the boy whipped around at that statement, raising his brow at you. You didn’t understand why he seemed so shocked, you were only telling the truth.

“Fine, catch you later,” His eyes were looking behind you, focused on something else before he finally walked away from you.

That was another thing that bothered you, he never made eye contact. It was like no one was worth the time of day to him.

“What are you looking at,” A familiar arm snaked its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you prepared to go home. You smelled the familiar scent of aftershave and light cologne that immediately brought a smile to your face.

“You’ll never guess who I have to tutor,” you looked up at your best friend, Haechan, grinning at his confused face. Haechan had been your best friend since you were kids in the sandbox and since then, wherever he was you were likely right beside him.

“Let’s go eat, and you can tell me all about it,” He spun you around, walking you towards the exit.

“Maybe you’re being too hard on him,” the boy suggested, playing with his food before taking a bite. That was his habit whenever you ate together, he would mull over his food as if building a masterpiece before devouring an entire plate in a few bites.

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at the statement.

“I mean, I dunno, maybe don’t judge a book by its cover and stuff,” A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized how cringey what he had said was. His eyes met yours for a split second before you both let out a few synchronized chuckles.

“That was so bad, Chan,” you reached over to poke his cheek, laughing even harder as his cheeks became a deeper shade of red.

“I mean seriously, can you even name ten things you don’t like about him?” He asked, suddenly raising his brows in a challenging manner.

“Honestly, I could name ten things I hate about him,” you admitted, taking a bite of your food to punctuate your point. He only shook his head in disapproval as a response before continuing.

“Get back to me in a few weeks, I bet you’ll even end up friends. He seems nice from what I’ve heard” he sent a knowing wink your way before calling the waitress over.

As he began talking to the waitress, his question was still lingering in your mind. Ten things you hated about Mark. You already had certain attributes running around in your head, but you wondered how many more you were going to add to your list.

1. I hate that he is inconsiderate

[Monday]

It was only the first day of your study sessions with Mark, and of course he was late. You were sitting at your usual table in the corner of the library, checking your phone for the nth time. He was almost an hour late and you were anything but surprised. The boy didn’t strike you as the type to keep his word.

“Hey, tutor girl,” The voice struck you from your thoughts, coming from someone you didn’t think you’d see today.

“Mark,” You nodded towards the seat across from you, opening the textbook you had sat in front of you. The boy sat silently, a smug grin painted across his face as he looked at you, eyes focused above your head.

“I had something pop up, sorry about that man,” even his apologies were insincere and annoying. You almost wanted to toss the coffee drink in his hands into the trash, but you found it in yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Whatever, let's just get started,” He nodded in response, glancing down at your textbook with a look of uncertainty, “Did you bring your textbook?” It was then that you realized that he hadn’t brought anything with him, not even a pencil. Of course he was unprepared.

“It’s fine, use mine,” You turned yours around towards him before pointing towards a specific chapter. He nodded in response before flicking his eyes back up in your general direction.

“Today, we’ll start with the basics of analyzing a text. We’ll do ethos, pathos, and logos. It’s pretty simple but it’s gonna help with the essay portion,” You rambled on for a few minutes about the basis of arguments and speeches. His eyes were in the book but you couldn't tell if he was understanding or not. Throughout your explanation, you could see his leg shaking and his fingers tapping on the table.

“Is there anything you want me to go over?” his eyes were still glued to the book as he looked back up at you. He was smiling, as usual, but something about the look in his eye told you that he was utterly confused.

“No, Uh, I think I understand,” His taps became a bit more intense until he realized you were watching him and stopped.

“It’s okay if you don't,” you said mindlessly, “I’m here to help,” as much as you weren’t a fan of Mark, you wanted him to do well. It was a part of the reason you liked tutoring. Seeing someone work hard for something, and helping them get there was one of the best feelings in the world.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, smiling wider. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just say he needed help since it was literally your job, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Let’s go over it one more time, for my sake,” you went over the material again, using more examples, even some from popular music to explain the definitions he didn’t understand.

“I mean, I already understood, but I get it, more,” He said sheepishly, rubbing his face in his hand. You smiled a bit at the light pink color growing on his cheeks as you switched subjects.

“Okay, I believe you. We have some more material to cover though. Since you’re picking it up so quickly,” you smirked at the last statement, flipping the textbook in front of him to the correct page. You ignored his groan of despair, instead continuing the lesson you had planned.

You had believed after the first lesson, he might be easy to work with, but eventually, you were proved wrong. Mark was an absolute menace. His incessant taps on the table, glances around the room, random babbling, and absolute lack of interest in what you said, was pissing you off. Even the librarian had walked over to tell him to be quiet.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s been thirty minutes, Mark,” you rolled your eyes, pointing back at the sheet in front of you. He seemed to lose focus often, so you decided making him take notes might help.

“I know, but honestly my brain is full,” he whined, sending puppy dog eyes your way. Usually, you would have been able to say no, but his puckered lip and innocent eyes were beginning to sway you.

“Fine, ten minutes,” you gave in to a smiling mark, who shot his fist up in excitement. He leaned back in his chair, looking into space with a look you couldn’t decipher. He was visibly deep in thought and you were beginning to feel very awkward as time went on.

“Tutor girl, yeah she’s tutoring me

I wanna go home cause that’s the place to be,

Wherever I am, the vibe is nice,

Cause I’m cool like ice,” he went on and on rambling random rhymes with the biggest smile on his face. Nothing would have made you happier than saying that it sounded terrible, and while the rhymes themselves were ridiculous, his voice had a certain addictive vibe that made you want to keep listening.

He suddenly stopped, grinning at your lack of words “Shocked into silence, they say I have that effect on people,” he smirked nonchalantly eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but your ten minutes are up,”

“What! It’s been like three at most,” he complained, dropping his head in annoyance.

“Well, at least stop being so loud,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, who lit up once again.

You sat in silence for a few seconds before he finally spoke, “Why are you so uptight, tutor girl?” The nickname was really beginning to bug you and so was the boy sitting across from you.

“I have a name you know,” you finally comment, ignoring his question. You were fiddling with your fingers under the table, doing anything to keep your mind off of the uncomfortable question he had asked.

“I know, Y/N,” Your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, almost giving you whiplash.

“So, why do you call me that?”

“It’s just a nickname,” he shrugged lightly before beginning to beatbox. He was like a child with the shortest attention span you had seen on anyone above the age of fifteen.

“It’s definitely been ten minutes now,” you pushed his paper towards him before beginning the next lesson.

2. I hate that he really is a mystery

[thursday]

“I’ve never been here,” You commented, looking up at your very tall friend, Johnny opening the door for you. He was a few years older than you but you ended up bonding through the tutoring center you both worked at.

The building was a typical cafe with a warm mocha toned interior. It had bookcases lining one wall with two big grandpa chairs watching over the small tables littered around the room. The place was relatively empty, with only a few people taking up two tables near the bookshelves. It was super cozy and inviting which made you question why you hadn’t been there sooner.

“Really? A lot of people from school come here,” you only nodded in response, following the boy towards the register.

Once inside, you immediately walked to the baked goods section, eyeing the various desserts.

You were glad Johnny called. You had been stressed out, from your mom riding you about job applications, classes reaching finals time, tutoring Mark, etc etc. It felt like as you got older the weight on your shoulders got heavier and heavier. Everyone in your life needed you to decide on your future and you just weren’t there yet. You couldn't even decide on a pastry let alone where you wanted to be in ten years.

“Are you ready to order?” Johnny tapped your shoulder, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Sure,” you nodded, masking the sadness the thoughts had brought on.

You watched as the older boy tapped the service bell before peering over the counter. “Someone’s coming,” he said, leaning back.

“Hey Johnny, what can I get ya today,” the familiar voice caused your eyes to bulge as you looked up at the owner.

“Tutor girl?”

“Mark,” you mumbled quietly, nodding in his direction. It seemed as if your problems followed you everywhere.

“You two know each other?”Johnny asked with a grin.

Mark answered quickly “We take lit together,” you frowned at the lack of mentioning the fact that you were his tutor.

“Ah okay,”

“How do you two know each other?” you asked, only half caring.

“We’ve been friends since his freshman year,” The older boy explained.

“Anyway, what do you want bro?” Mark asked informally, smile bright as he got ready to punch the buttons on the screen in front of him.

“I’ll have an americano, give me like two extra shots,” Johnny looked at you, waiting for your order as Mark tapped on the screen.

“Can I get an americano and a chocolate croissant,”

“Sure,” the younger boy said absentmindedly.

Johnny reached into his wallet before you could even say anything, looking down at you with a “don’t argue” look. You were used to him paying whenever you went out together or even with other friends, even though you always put up a fight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark said, pushing Johnny’s card back at him, “on the house,” he explained.

“You sure?”

“Yeah don’t worry about it,”

“Thank you,” you smiled sincerely, surprised by the gesture.

“He never pays for me,” Johnny said, chuckling as if it were an inside joke before he began looking for a seat.

He finally selected a table in the corner with two chairs beside it, right next to a window. You sat down in the chair, giving the place a once over again. Something had caught your eye this time. You watched as the dark-haired boy darted around behind the register, preparing your drinks expertly.

“I didn’t know he worked here,” You mumbled absentmindedly, still watching the boy work.

“Yeah, he works at a restaurant too,” Johnny commented, smiling knowingly in your direction. You furrowed your brows as you looked back at him. You didn’t know he had one job, let alone two.

“Oh,” was all you said, leaving it at that. It seemed like Mark really was a mystery to you. You knew virtually nothing about him. Something about that fact gave you an unsettling feeling that you were too stubborn to think about any further.

3. I hate that he asks too many questions

[Friday]

“I don’t want to gooo,” you whined, fighting against Haechan who was currently pushing you towards the library.

“It’s only the third day. You’re such a baby,” You could practically hear his eyes roll as he stopped in front of the door. He had given you a ride to the library, as he always would if he had time.

“Am not,”

“Are too,”

“Am not,”

“Are too,”

“Am not,” Despite how childish it was, you literally stamped your foot, leading to a laughing fit from the two of you.

“I can’t believe you,” he sighed, lightly shoving you.

“I’m very mature though, on a serious-,” you suddenly stopped speaking as you noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore, “what is it?” you turned on your heel only to be met with the infamous boy himself.

“Am I too early?” he looked down at his phone with furrowed brows before looking back at you.

“No, you’re actually on time,” you didn’t mean to come off as passive-aggressive but judging from Mark’s raised brows, you did.

You watched as Haechan reached out to shake Mark’s hand with a friendly smile and a quick mutter of his name. Mark responded by smiling awkwardly before finally reciprocating the gesture. “I’m Mark,” he introduced himself with his world-famous grin before flicking his gaze in your direction.

It was silent for a few moments before Haechan finally said something, “I’ll leave you guys to it,” he smiled one last time, sending you a mischievous look before leaving the two of you alone.

“You ready?” he asked, reaching up to grab the nape of his neck awkwardly. You quickly noticed the Jansport backpack he was sporting. It was a small thing but something about the fact that he came prepared made you feel weird.

“Uhh, yeah,” you opened the door to the library, walking quickly to the usual spot in the corner, Mark trudging quietly behind you.

“I made some flashcards for you,” You began, reaching into your bag and pulling out the index cards that you had put on a binder ring.

“Thanks,” he took the cards from your hand with a smile.

“So that guy’s your boyfriend?” he asked casually while shuffling through the cards.

You jaw all but dropped in shock as you fumbled to find the right words, “absolutely not,” you finally said, “he’s like a brother,” you clarified, waiting for his reaction.

The question made you feel uneasy coming from his mouth. It seemed random and very odd considering neither one of you had ever discussed anything personal.

“Oh, okay. You seem close,” he commented, continuing to look through the flashcards.

“We are, but uh, today lets just talk about your essay structure,” you changed the subject promptly, noticing the grin that was solidifying on his face.

Ten minutes later you could already tell he was distracted, judging by his taps on the table that were rapidly reaching a fever pitch.

He looked in your direction suddenly, “What do you want to do, tutor girl, like after graduation”

Mark asked you the question like it was the most casual thing to say, like it was comparable to “how was your day” or “what kind of coffee do you like.” No one had really asked you that before, what you wanted to do.

“uh, I’m not sure honestly,” you were unsure of why you were even entertaining the conversation. Had it been asked a few days ago you might have just rolled your eyes and answered with the generic response you had been trained to use.

“Really? You seem like the type to plan everything a hundred steps ahead,”

You quirked your eyebrow up in surprise “What’s that supposed to mean,”

A light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he stumbled over his words, “No, it’s just that you, like, seem put together, like you know what you want,” he clarified.

The notion confused you to an extent. You never knew what you wanted. You had spent so long doing what people told you that you should do, that you barely even thought about what you wanted. Honestly speaking, you had only started tutoring because your mother told you it would look good on college applications. You had just so happened to actually end up enjoying it. That was the real reason you always did everything the same way and were what Mark called ‘uptight’.

“I don’t,” you admitted, “I have a hard time knowing what I want,” you trailed off quietly before asking him the same question.

“I want to pursue music, but I’m not sure if it’s practical,” he said shrugging.

“It isn’t practical,” you agreed, smiling lightly at the shocked face Mark sent you, “but if it’s something you want to do, it’s worth trying,” you finished, watching as Mark let out a breath.

He sighed, “I wish it were that easy,” his table tapping picked up a slow pace. You nodded in agreement, realizing that you were in a similar predicament. “Well, what do you like to do?” he asked suddenly.

“You ask a lot of questions,” you replied simply, playing with the seam of your jeans.

4. I hate that he’s unbelievably stubborn

[Monday]

“Mark, honestly we can just reschedule,” You watched as the boy shook his head, jumping from his previous position.

“No, I’m fine,” he shook his head a few times before gesturing in your direction for you to continue.

The boy kept nodding off throughout your lesson and showing obvious signs that he was in no way capable of learning anything. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept all weekend, his eye bags were at least three shades darker than usual, and most importantly he wasn’t making any noises at all. Not even his usual incessant table taps.

“Mark, you did pretty well on the practice quiz, you can take the day off,” you tried to reason with the boy whose eyes were barely open. It looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open.

“No no, y/n,” him using your real name made you feel weird and told you that he was definitely not in the right mind. “You came all the way here, let’s just start,”

You chuckled lightly at his groggy and barely comprehensible voice as you closed your books.

“Why are you so tired anyway? Did you work over the weekend?” you found yourself actually curious about his answer, not just asking something random for the sake of it not being awkward.

He answered simply, trying his best to hide a yawn, “yep,”

You shook your head disapprovingly before finally speaking, “Alright this is what we’re going to do. One more practice test and then please go home and do us both a favor and go to sleep,”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” he admitted, sitting upright.

“You’re more of an inconvenience this way because I can't tutor someone who can’t even spell their own name,” I tapped on the corner of his notes, where he had written his name as “mar” leaving the last letter off.

“Fine,” he said finally, lifting his hoodie off of his head.

“You’re so god damn stubborn,” you whispered mostly to yourself.

“I can hear you, y’know,” you smiled at his remark before setting a practice test in front of him.

5. I hate that he sees what no one else does

[Friday]

“Yes, mom,” you paused for a moment, waiting for your mother’s usual rant about how you never did anything right, and how at your age she was already starting her own business, yada yada, the usual.

“I know,” pause, “I sent them out last week, remember?” pause, “I will,”

“Hey, tutor girl,” Mark greeted, taking his usual seat in front of you. He had a concerned look on his face as he noticed you were on the phone having an unpleasant conversation.

You pulled the phone away from your face, “I’ll be right back,” you shot him a small generic smile before walking outside of the building.

“Y/N if you don’t get it together, I’m going to-” your mother’s voice could be heard despite the fact that you had pulled the phone away from your face.

“I’m in the middle of a tutoring session, I have to call you back later,” you interrupted, pressing the hang-up button soon after.

You took a few long breaths before plastering a smile onto your face and walking back inside the building. You could feel Mark’s eyes on you as you walked towards him trying your best to keep up a strong facade.

“Are you okay,” the concern in his voice as you looked at him almost wiped the smile off of your face.

“I’m fine, let’s get started,”

“It’s okay if you’re not. You can tell me about it,” he paused for a few moments, tapping on the table as he usually did, “I can tell you’re you aren’t,”

“It’s nothing, let’s just start,” you waved your hand in dismissal.

“If that’s what you want,” he phrased it more like a question than a statement.

“So, today let’s talk about how point of view affects the entire story,” you began your explanation, the fake smile long gone as you gave examples from the required reading. Mark seemed only half interested in what you were saying, which was usually normal, except today you could feel his eyes glued to your face while yours were in the book as you gestured to certain sentences.

You were not in the mood for his antics and as time passed he was truly starting to bug you. “What!? What are you looking at?” you whisper-yelled in his direction. You found yourself feeling immediately guilty as the boy looked at you in complete and utter shock. His lips had slightly parted into an ‘o’ shape and his brows were slightly raised. His cheeks had even begun turning into a deep red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” he mumbled, trailing off at the end.

You raised your hand to your head, feeling a headache coming on, “no, I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m a little stressed out,” you admitted.

“It’s okay, you can talk to me about it. Like, if you want,” he looked at you expectantly, with a concerned expression adorning his face.

“It’s just my mom. She has a lot of expectations for me. It’s stressful sometimes, y’know,” he nodded at your words, waiting for you to continue, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t really know what to do. It’s like she’s been controlling my life for so long that I don’t even know what I want to do without her telling me,” you finished.

It felt good letting it all out, and for some reason, you felt comfortable telling Mark about it. He seemed to really listen to you, like he actually cared.

“Have you ever talked to her about it?” he asked.

“No, she’s not the best listener,” he nodded again.

“Then I think right now all you can do is try to figure out what you actually want for yourself. Like what’s something you really want to do? Like bucket list stuff,” he asked with wide eyes.

“I dunno, maybe a road trip,” you said the first thing that came to mind, mentally slapping yourself at how lame the answer was. “I’ve never really been anywhere,” you explained simply. “Kind of lame,”

He shook his head, “It's not lame if it’s something you want.” You only nodded in response.

“What you want is important, Y/N. Even if you don't know exactly what that is yet.”

6. I hate that he is everywhere

[monday]

“It’s not my fault,” Haechan rolled his eyes at your shocked expression as he spoke.

“Haechan,” you said slowly, “I really shouldn’t have to explain it to you,” you shook your head in his direction.

You were walking down the main commons area in your school, killing time before your next class.

“If someone says to you, hey! Can I borrow your hanger, how am I supposed to guess that they’ll-” he stopped speaking suddenly, a smile breaking out on his face, “look there’s your boy,” he nodded slightly in the direction ahead of you.

You looked up, almost immediately spotting Mark. He was smiling brightly as he spoke to a girl beside him. She looked to be familiar, maybe from the year below you. You watched as they laughed together, heads falling back as if they were in a movie. You had to admit, they made a cute couple.

“He’s not my boy,” you shoved your friend with light force, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest.

“Don’t worry, pretty sure she’s dating Jeno. Actually no, I’m super sure, every time I see them, they’re sucking face,” he grimaces at the notion, furrowing his brows tightly as if remembering the image vividly.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, “Why would I worry?”

“Okay, y/n,” he matched your expression, shrugging in the same way you did.

7. I hate that his car smells just like him

[Tuesday]

“No it’s fine, I’ll just find a way home,” you glanced at Mark, whose eyes were on you already. “No, Haechan don’t worry about it. I’ll text you later,” you hung the phone up and looked up at the boy ahead of you.

After you opened up to Mark the previous week, he had begun taking a seat next to you in class. It seemed like you had become friends, or acquaintances at least. That felt weird to even think about. You and Mark were friends? No, acquaintances, you were just acquaintances.

“Everything okay?” he asked, gathering his belongings.

“Yea, I just have to walk home,” you answered absentmindedly before standing.

“I can, like, give you a ride,” he offered nonchalantly, standing in front of you.

“You drive?”

He smirked at the question, “just got a new car,”

“Okay then, if it’s no trouble,” you agreed, nodding at him. It was super weird how comfortable you were around him now. There were still things you very much disliked about him, but getting to know him had shown you that there were some things you hadn’t known at all.

“Alright,” he smiled in your general direction before leading the way. You had grown used to his quick pace, keeping up with ease now.

“It’s nice right,” he pats the old black car lightly, as if he was afraid something would fall off.

“Super nice,” you agreed with a grin.

You both walked to your respective sides and slid into your seats quietly. You were immediately hit with the smell of watermelon air freshener and the cologne Mark usually wore.

“You can put your address in,” he pointed to the GPS on the car and you promptly typed it in.

There was a lasting awkward silence after that, Mark focusing diligently on driving while you were focused on counting the red cars that went by. You wondered how long it would take for someone to say something. Eventually, Mark just put on the radio, hoping to fill the silence.

He winced slightly at the country song that began playing, “You wanna hear one of my songs,” he said suddenly, a small smile accompanying his words.

“Sure,” you were actually curious, seeing as you had never heard him rap seriously, only hearing his mumbles when he was bored.

“Press the acronym one,” he said, handing you his phone, eyes still trained on the road. It was almost comical how focused he was while driving whereas during tutoring sessions he was always distracted.

“Que-tay, uhm, qwe-ta,” you tried pronouncing the acronym, eliciting a laughing fit from Mark. His laugh was so innocent you couldn’t help but smile along even though you didn’t know what was so funny.

“Key-tah,” he finally said with a smile.

“Ah,” you nodded, turning the volume up.

The song started off subtly, with a chill beat that matched the atmosphere in the car. You could see Mark’s light blush peeking from your peripheral as the song went on. By the time the second verse began, Mark was humming along before finally fully rapping alongside himself. Again, you were reminded of how addictive his voice was.

He seemed so passionate at that moment, so confident. He was showing a side to himself that you hadn’t seen before. Someone so comfortable where he was. Someone truly in their element.

“I get why you want to do music,” you commented as the song ended.

“Why?”

“You love it. I can tell. It’s like more than just a career for you, it’s a part of you,” you said matter of factly. The statement confused you to some degree. You had never seen someone so comfortable in their element. You hated to admit it but you were even a little jealous.

He smiled at that notion, “It is a part of me. Ever since I was young, my dad taught me how to play guitar and that really just jump started my love for it.” You nodded in understanding before picking a random Frank Ocean song on his playlist.

“You should come to my showcase next week, I just got offered a spot today,” he said suddenly. You were completely shocked that he had asked you.

“You can bring your friend, I think our whole class is going. It’s supposed to be an end of finals celebration” ah, everyone was going.

“Okay,” you accepted simply, heat rushing to your cheeks for an unknown reason.

“just put your number in my phone, I’ll send the details later,”

The car ride from then on was more comfortable. What was once an awkward silence had become a relaxed atmosphere where you and Mark would chat about random things like the music on his playlist or the watermelon screensaver on his phone.

8. I hate that he thinks can pull one over on me

[wednesday]

“tutor girl, what’s up?” Mark crashed down into the seat in front of you, setting down a drink carrier from his cafe and a bag.

“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, shaking your head at his noisy entrance.

“Here you go,” he pushed an Iced Americano in your direction, following with the white bag.

“Oh, thank you, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you watched the smile on his face widen as he shook his head.

“It’s the least I could I could do for my favorite tutor,” your felt your cheeks get hot until you remembered one very important detail.

“I’m your only tutor, and you still have to take the full practice test,” you said sternly, putting the straw in the coffee quickly.

“Come on,” he whined out before starting a whole argumentative speech about how the practice tests were annoying.

9. I hate that he doubts himself

[thursday]

“I mean, and I say this with full respect,” Mark began, “I truly don’t think I’m going to do that well,” he admitted, toying with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“Mark, just because you say with full respect, doesn’t make it more respectful,” you said with a grin, “but seriously, you’ve been doing so well on your practice quizzes. Over 60% every time, which is way better than what we started with,” you admitted, wincing a bit at the last statement you let slip out.

“Still, that’s not a passing grade,” he shrugged, utterly defeated as he picked up the essay rubric from his desk. His usual brighter than the sun smile had disappeared, leaving you feeling uncomfortably cold.

“Honestly your lack of trust in my tutoring skills is beginning to annoy me,”

“No, dude, I trust you,” your eyes flew to him at that statement. He was still pondering over the paper in front of him as he continued, “I just feel like I suck at this stupid subject,” he threw the paper back onto the table at that statement.

You found yourself giving a pep talk without even a second thought “No, you don’t. You’re caught on quickly. You’re so smart but you need to stop second-guessing yourself. You’re going to do well. Even better than well because you have my help.”

“Thanks, tutor girl. I appreciate you,” you could tell he was sincere because he had met your eyes, even if just for a split second. It was the first time he had ever looked you in your eyes and it was making you feel things.

“I’m serious though, you are way smarter than you give yourself credit for, and you should know that you are no matter what score you get on this stupid test,” you finish, grinning as the smile returned on his face.

“Okay,” he nodded lightly as he stood waiting for you to join him.

You chuckled lightly at the boy as you looked up at him, “What is it, Mark?” he had a sheepish look on his face as if he was nervous about something other than the obvious.

“uhm well,” He was looking intently at you when you didn’t notice, waiting for any signs that he was annoying you.

“Actually, there’s something I was going to ask you,” a light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he spoke. You nodded in his direction waiting for whatever he had to say, looking up to find his eyes on you.

At that moment you noticed almost like for the first time how pretty his eyes were. They were so doe-like and innocent, you couldn’t stop staring.

To outsiders, you both would have seemed very odd as you stood just staring at each other.

“Well, I-”

“Y/N, hurry- oh shoot, sorry,” Haechan’s voice rang from the doorway, pulling you out of whatever trance you had been in.

“I’m almost done,” you widened your eyes in Haechan’s direction for emphasis, looking back at Mark who had already looked away. “What were you saying, Mark?”

He smiled lightly for a moment, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important,”

You furrowed your brows lightly, “You sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,”

10. I hate that I don’t hate him

[Friday]

“I told you so,” Haechan was grinning ear to ear as he joined you on your walk to class.

“I could name ten things I hate about him, yeah right,” He laughed to himself suddenly, mocking your old statement. “Imagine my shock seeing your face a few inches away from his. I should’ve taken a picture.”

“Shut up,” you pushed him lightly, finally reaching the door to the lit class.

“I’ll see you afterwards, good luck,” he said, sending you a final wave before walking away.

It was the test date and you were sure that Mark was nervous. As soon as you got into the room, you noticed his fingers tapping violently on the desk, his single mechanical pencil clattering as it jumped around. He was there early, earlier than you were and that was saying something. The room was empty except for the two of you, even despite you being only about fifteen minutes early.

“Mark,” you had to call his name a second time to get his attention. “Mark, relax,” you took the seat next to him and swiftly grabbed his chattering hand in your own. You watched as his leg began bouncing up and down as if it were mocking the pencil’s previous movement, “Mark, breathe,” his eyes were glued to something in the distance, his breath labored.

“Shit, I’m not prepared,” he muttered quietly, “I should have done another quiz,” he breathed out. “and I can’t fucking breathe,” he clenched his brows at the last statement, his breathing coming out as quick huffs.

“Look at me, Mark,” you reached up to turn his chin towards you. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack,” you said the words slowly, hoping to not make it any worse.

“You have to breathe, I’m right here and I’m not going to let go of you,” you squeezed lightly on his hand to emphasize your words.

“You’ve studied and studied. You’ve worked hard. You’re going to do well. All you have to do now is relax and breathe. In and out,” his eyes were glued to yours before he finally closed them altogether and began taking slow deep breaths.

“I’m here with you, and we’re both going to destroy this thing,” he nodded slowly at your words, opening them a few minutes later as his breathing reached a normal pace and his leg stopped bouncing.

You released his hand in the next second, sending him a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” was the last thing he said before people began filing into the room.

[Monday]

“I know what you’ve all been waiting for. I have your graded finals,” Your professor had waited until the end of the day to finally share the news, leaving everyone anxious.

It was utterly silent as he passed them around, only the sound of him saying a quick “see me after class,” to Mark, who immediately winced at the statement. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows in confusion, noticing that Mark hadn’t received his test back.

“Class is dismissed,” he pointed towards the doorway after delivering the final test, smiling lightly at the people whose arms were thrown up in celebration.

Your score wasn’t that big of a surprise, you had gotten what was expected of you. You were way more interested in Mark. So you decided to wait outside the door, watching as students filed out.

It seemed like hours had passed while you were waiting for him. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone, completely missing the sounds of someone walking up to you, that someone being Mark himself.

You yelped in surprise as you were lifted off of your feet and spun around in the air.

“What the hell,” was all you said as the boy set you down.

“Y/N, Look!” he exclaimed, handing you the test with a huge eighty-five percent scribbled in red on the top right corner of the sheet.

“Mark, I told you, you could do it,” you hugged the smiling boy, grinning brightly at him.

“I couldn’t have without you, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes as they bore into your own was making you melt on the spot.

“No more tutor girl?” you asked, grin never falling.

“You’ll always be tutor girl but, uh,” he paused as if deep in thought for a moment, “I really like spending time with you. I think it will be weird not seeing you all the time,” you nodded in agreement, realizing that the semester had ended, meaning it was summer break.

“Well, we’re friends now right. We can still hang out,” you offered, watching as the boy looked down with a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Um, I know we’re friends, but,” he stepped a little closer to you, “I was wondering like, y’know if it’s possible, if you maybe wanna,” he continued to stumble over his words. You couldn’t help but smile at his very awkward, very cute way of asking you what you already knew he was getting at.

“Mark, do you want to go out sometime,” you finally blurted, chuckling at his pink face.

“Yes, I would like that a lot,” he said nodding.

“I don’t know if you knew but uhm, I mean it was before, but basically um, I’m sorry I judged you before, Mark,” you apologized suddenly watching as he shook his head in dismissal. It had been on your mind for a while even despite him not knowing.

“I knew you felt that way before. That’s kind of why I was so like reluctant to have you as my tutor,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed lightly.

“That’s why you were so weird the day he told us,” you nodded in understanding remembering the look Mark gave you when you were first introduced, as if you spat in his drink. In his defense you deserved it.

“Honestly, yeah,” he confessed, “but in your defense, I am kind of an acquired taste,”

“That’s not an excuse. I was an idiot,” you admitted, “Mark, you’re amazing,” he smiled lightly at your last statement, taking the time to just look at you. His brown eyes were like a pool, drawing you in until you sank, unable to stop staring.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his hand before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

You only nodded in response, waiting patiently as he lowered his head towards your face until he was less than a centimeter away. It felt like hours had passed until his lips grazed yours, allowing a tingling sensation to move throughout your body.

In a flash, your arms were around his neck and he was holding onto you delicately, like you would break if he was too rough. He tasted like a mixture of mint and watermelon gum. His warm foresty and floral scent was filling your senses, actively intoxicating you as his lips moved against yours rhythmically. The kiss was greater than any apology you could have given him since it was full of the emotion you couldn’t fully articulate. Mark was fully focused on you in the moment, lips moving against yours like a magnet.

“I told you to become friends, not make out in public,” you heard Haechan’s voice interrupt, causing you to immediately pull away from the boy in front of you. You couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably at Haechan's mortified face and Mark’s intense blush.

“Sorry,” Mark muttered quietly, smiling as he looked down at you.

Haechan walked towards the older boy, looping a hand around his shoulder as he spoke, “Y’know, I always saw this coming. She said she didn’t like you, but a best friend always knows,” you could only shake your head as Mark looked back at you as if asking for help. You could hear Haechan going on and on about his premonitions as you trailed behind the two boys, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mark was someone you could never see yourself with. He was loud, always distracted, obnoxious, stubborn, and mysterious. But he was also kind, deliberate, hard-working, smart, infectiously positive, and beautiful. You didn’t know when the thought struck you, but as you looked up at the brunette boy walking ahead you finally knew what you wanted. You wanted him by your side for as long as possible.

#nct #nct mark #nct mark imagines #nct imagines #nct dream #nct 127 #superm #nct fluff #mark scenarios #nct 127 fic #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee x reader #nct au #lee mark #pls enjoy

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nabsthevulture · 4 years

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Bone Cleaning Aftercare "Oh no, my skull stinks!"

One of bone cleanings biggest annoyances is nasty smells being left in skulls and bones. It’s not an unfixable thing, but it can definitely be distressing and irritating. There are a few different approaches you can take to remedy this problem, and we’ll cover a few here.

First, go down a little list to figure out what could be causing the smell you’re dealing with.

1. Is the skull fully clean?

-If not, then this is why your skull stinks. Any leftover rotting flesh or viscera will be not only a source of smell, but it can attract bugs, bacteria, and even start growing mold. Toss that critter back into maceration and let the rest rot off, unless you’re willing to pick it all off by hand. (No shame! I’ve done that plenty of times)

2. Does the skull need degreasing?

-A greasy skull can definitely be a stinky skull. Make sure you thoroughly degrease your skull, and the smell should go away.

3. Is the skull waxy?

-That's grave wax, baby! Adipocere doesn’t usually smell, but sometimes it can really pack a nasal punch. You can remove it by scraping it off with a toothpick, an X-Acto blade, whatever you’ve got around. Even better is an old toothbrush; Brush away dry or under running water, it’ll come off relatively easy. Go ahead and use some dish soap as well, that’ll help give the skull a better smell.

4. Where is the smell coming from?

-This is probably the first question you ask yourself; Why does my skull stink? And Where is the stink coming from? Built up smell likes to linger in spots where the bone is dense, or where there’s a lot of small places for tissue to hide. The brain cavity can smell a lot like cat piss, in my personal experience. Brain likes to get really nasty while it rots. That’s one of the toughest smells I’ve had to get out of a skull, it’s just such a lingering scent. Smell coming from the nasal cavity could very well mean that there’s still tissue shoved up in there that needs to be fished out or rotted away. Locating the source will ultimately help you figure out what you’ve gotta do to remedy it.

5. Any weird discoloration?

-While not every bit of discoloration will smell, if you’re having a hard time finding the source of a smell, sniff the discolored spots. They would be stains from tissue or bacteria that occurred during the cleaning process, or could be hidden pockets of grease.

6. Is the skull fully dry?

-Sometimes it can be hard to tell if a skull is all the way dry. The surface may be, but depending on how dense the skull is, water could take longer to dry out. If its degrease water, peroxide, or maceration water, it can smell. They may be cleaning process, but they can really smell bad. I personally have a degrease bucket that I haven’t messed with in a few weeks, affectionately nicknamed “Fart Bucket” because it smells horrible.

Now that that’s out of the way, let's get to the options you’ve got. There’s a few different things you can do, varying in involvement, chemicals, cleaning agents, and time.

Peroxide

A good starting place would be to give the skull a soak in warm water and peroxide. It can knock loose random dirt, and will begin to oxidize and puff up any remaining tissue. That’ll make it easier to spot and pick off if that’s what you feel inclined to do. You can leave the skull to soak for as little or as long as you want, though of course peroxide will begin to whiten the bone. If that’s not the desired effect, limit the soak to around 15-20 minutes. Give the skull a good thorough rinse afterwards to flush out anything that was knocked loose or that you decided to remove, and let it dry. If there’s persisting smell after that, move on to a different method! Peroxide will help with the little smells, but a bigger smell will need a stronger approach.

Heavy Duty Scrubbin’

Grab a bucket, some hot water, a scrubbing brush (Hard bristled toothbrushes are amazing for this) and your favorite smelling, strong dish soap. Lather up your skull and get to scrubbing! Don’t be shy with the soap, make sure you’re thorough. Scrub inside the nasal cavity (Carefully, if the turbinates are still in there), inside the brain cavity, around the sockets of the teeth, etc.. Rinse the skull off every once in a while and start again. It’s tedious for sure, but the results are what you’re after.

The lower jaw will be an interesting clean job. The hole that runs through the mandible (Mandibular Foramen) can contain a lot of excess grease, build up, or left over meat. If you have em’, grab a couple of pipe cleaners and run them through that hole. Pour some soap into the hole, and keep flossing the pipe cleaner through.It’ll break the excess loose and clear it out on the way through. Make sure you have a few on hand, they’re likely to get really gross really fast.

Let your skull dry and give it a sniff. Still stinks a little? Try again! There’s no harm in scrubbing; Do it until you reach your desired result, or try something new. Either way, no harm done.

Soaks

If you want a less involved method, you’ll probably want to try soaking skulls in a couple of different mixtures. I excluded peroxide and made it its own category because of the chemicals bone whitening ability. It’s not a prolonged soak kind of thing, but these are! These soaks will also act as degreasing baths, given what you use.

Ammonia Soak

-Get yourself some lemon scented ammonia from the dollar store or wherever you may find it. (It doesn't have to be lemon scented, but citrus is an odor killer). Fill up a bucket with enough hot water to cover most of the skull, and then fill up the rest(about an inch or so over the skull) with the ammonia. Ammonia on its own isn’t a necessarily pleasant smell, but it’ll be diluted by the water and won’t ultimately smell like ammonia once dried. You can let this soak for however long you please, but if you’re in a hurry just wait until the water is cold and pull it out. Let it dry, and check it out. The longer you let it sit, the more likely the smell will dissipate. If you have one, a tank heater will keep the water warm and help the ammonia work it’s way through the bone and pull any residual grease out; Grease very well could be the source of the smell.

Acetone Soak

-You’re gonna do pretty much the same thing with this soak as you do with the ammonia, the biggest difference is that you’re only going to use a few ounces of acetone. It’s a strong chemical that works just fine in small quantities. Make sure the water covers the skull completely and then some, and then pour in around half a bottle of acetone (Standard bottle of nail polish remover) depending on the size of your container. Let it soak until its cold, or keep it in until you feel like taking it out. Acetone has a strong smell to it, and is also an agent used for degreasing. You’ll be looking at a two for one like with ammonia. If the smell persists, give it some more time.

Dish Soap Soak

-Like the last two; Bucket and hot water, fill up above the skull, and then squeeze in some dish soap. Whatever smell you like, use that. Stir the solution up so it’s nicely mixed, and let it soak until its cold or longer if you wish. Let the skull dry, give it a sniff. The longer it hangs out in the soak, the more likely the smell will go.

With soaks, you’re going to want to check the solution if you leave it sit for a long period of time. If it begins to smell nasty or get cloudy but you aren’t ready to pull it out yet, go ahead and restart your soak solution. The only thing worse than the smell leftover from bone cleaning processes, is the mixture between that smell and dirty degrease/soaking solutions. It’s like getting punched in both nostrils simultaneously.

Obvious but mediocre solutions

(These are things my taxidermist friend has told me about clients doing in the past, and some are from personal experience. Some are good, some are just...not.)

-Spray em down with air freshener! It’ll help for a very short while before it wears off and goes back to smelling.

-Stick some dryer sheets in the back of the skull, why not

-Rub em down in coffee grounds (This can stain the bone)

-Stick em in a bag of coffee beans (This could also stain the bone)

-Sprinkle them with cinnamon (I have had this stain bone and it’s also like you’re just asking to get cinnamon in your nose)

-Soak them in rose petal water (Can’t speak to this method)

-Set it out in the sun for a few days, let the heat leech out the smell (This can bleach the bone if you leave it too long.)

Realistically, you can do whatever you need to do to get the job done. Just make sure you aren’t using agents that will damage the bones (or yourself) and you’re good to go! Keep in mind that bones that are already brittle, such as nature cleaned, sun bleached, boiled, or bleached skulls can be damaged by some of these processes. If they are brittle to the touch, flaky, easily scratch-able (As in you can put a scratch/groove in the bone very easily), or seem all around unstable, use your best judgement to decide whether or not you should clean them at all. Sometimes weird smelling skulls just need to be put in a display case or somewhere out of smelling distance and left alone.

These methods are applicable to all bones, not just skulls! But as i said above, use your best judgement to determine if the bone will hold up to any of these processes.

Hopefully this is helpful in some way to anyone looking for some help with stinky bones. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out!

#vulture culture #bone cleaning #animal processing #taxidermy #animal skulls #animal bones #karrion kreations #op #q

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cherriesink · 3 years

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Yamagami Tokuichi - Murmurs

Murmurs are snippets of character reflection earned by increasing Explore Points during Exploration. They usually include 6-7 monologues about other characters and 3-4 monologues about things important to the specific character.

These lines are taken straight from the English translation of the game, so fair warning of bad grammar.

About Yatsufusa “Yatsufusa... is like a son to me. I can’t help myself whenever I see his hopeless eyes.

...But I don’t blame him. Because it takes time to accept the fact you’e suddenly become a vampire that can only drink blood. Even I haven’t fully accepted it myself. Why are we alive... and how long do we have to endure this... What’s the point of all this anyway? Nobody can keep up if those thoughts cross their mind.

But he is a C-Class- unlike an unranked vampire like me. He’s surrounded by good people too. He can live a good life if he wishes to.

Wait, “life”? ...Are we livin’ a “life” when we never die? We don’t have a clue how long vampires last... Argh, there’s no way I can teach him somethin’ because even I don’t know what vampires are exactly. I’m so unreliable...”

About Kurusu “I became a vampire the same time as Kurusu. I was a major and he was a private first-class. I was a bigwig when I was a human who didn’t even know Kurusu existed...! Then, I was bitten by a vampire and became unranked in the vampire ladder. And Kurusu, who was just a private first-class is now an A-Class vampire- the strongest in Japan...

In the military, you can climb up the ladder by working your butt off. But an unranked vampire stays unranked no matter what...

Why?! Why did this happen to me?! I was just an honest guy... Where did I miss my step and let a private-first class surpass me...?

Life can change in the blink of an eye. It would’ve been me and not Kurusu ranking in A-Class if I would’ve walked a little more to the right. You really can’t guess what life brings you.”

About Maeda “Maeda is worse than a vampire when it comes to being disdainful! You know how people call each other evil? Well, he’s the master of evil! He’s always been like that. Cause he doesn’t have any friends. He always looks down on others. That’s just how he is.

It’s the worst when you go against him in kendo... He doesn’t care about samurai spirit and kicks. He was boastin’ that he’s a master of Taisha, but he’s outta his mind if he thinks his moves are so elegant, belongin’ to a classical martial arts school! Call it “Maeda” school if you must. He provokes you and threatens you, playin’ with your mental state. He attacks once the opponent loses it. It still gives me the chills when I remember his fightin’ strategy.

He’s now leading Code Zero, but nothin’ has changed about him. I feel bad for the vampires that he taunts and then kills. Poor them... they underestimate him ‘cause he appears human. But that’s a bad idea ‘cause he’s not.”

About Takeuchi “Why does Takeuchi wanna his inventions on me every single time?! Invent all he wants. But why does he always have to use them on me?

He’s not scary ‘cause he’s a vampire. He’s simply a monster. He’s intelligent, and my hats are off to his inventions. But he lacks heart. I don’t think there are any vampires out there like him. I doubt that anything has changed from when he was a human.

I hate the skunk ball the most out of his inventions. Only vampires understand how bad it smells. The smell even gets to the eyes. What’s even worse is that our clothes absorb the smell and won’t come off for a week. Yes! It’s effective in battle ‘cause we all have the deodorize mask and it stops the enemy for a second. In a way, it’s the best weapon. But I can’t stand the lingering smell after we take off the mask! Make a soap that gets rid of the smell if you’re gonna invent somethin’ like the skunk ball, Takeuchi!”

About Suwa “Suwa mocked me from the first time we met. He might look like an innocent kid, but... I can never win against him in arguements either. I secretly call him “Mini Maeda.” He said he was already alive before the Edo period. But I can’t believe that he managed to survive that long with his personality. I mean he said hunting vampires is his hobby... What kind of hobby is that? I guess he holds some knd of a grudge against vampires because he grins when he kills them. Talk about horror stories, right?

Yet, he likes watchin’ plays, so I don’t get that guy at all. If he still has humanness left inside him where he enjoys watchin’ plays, then why can’t he share that with me? Total mystery I tell you.

Oh... and another thing I hate about Suwa is how he likes to quote kabuki. It stops our meeting ‘cause it doesn’t make sense at all, so we gotta ask what he means.

So, to sum it all up.. evil ones will always be evil, no matter how long they live for.”

About Defrott “Defrott is a mysterious guy. Apparently, he became a vampire during the Hundred Years’ War... But you don’t see underaged vampires that often. Because they’ll burn themselves before figuring things out. And I heard western vampires kill underaged ones. So- it’s tougher for them to survive.

It’s even tough for an ordinary vampire to survive. Yet, he appears to be a child and made it through the Hundred Years’ War. So... he must be really smart. I’m sure he’s mighty since he’s an S-Class... But I bet he has to be pretty wise if he was goin’ against another S-Class ‘cause he’s pretty petite.

Although... he’ll vanish me before I can even realize it since I’m unranked.

Defrott... is a French name. But the Hundred Years’ War took place where things were complicated between England and France, so he must be pretty complicated too. I wonder where he was born.”

About Tenman-ya “I feel relaxed at Tenman-ya. So, maybe I’m suited to work as their manager instead of Code Zero. I bet they rarely have dangerous jobs, so I’m seriously thinkin’ if I should work for them and leave the military...

Only, they deal with vampires far more than Code Zero does. It’s a problem ‘cause the eyes of vampires ranking above me freaks me out... it’s really terrifying.

And I heard that even the ones you should avoid go there too. If I leave the army, I won’t be able to use any of Takeuchi’s weapons. So, when I consider that... I mean, I’m just an old fart that’s slightly stronger than a normal person. Just thinkin’ about being surrounded by vampires gives me the chills...! In the end, Zero is the safest place because Kurusu is there.

I heard Shinnosuke’s grandfather passed away when he was just a child... He must’ve sacrificed a lot of things.”

About Family “I wonder what Tomiko is doing right now... She originally came to our house as a servant. I was 14. It was love at first sight. My father found out my feelings for her, and fired Tomiko. I left my house to be with her and I went to her house.

But I was rejected by her parents... Because we weren’t socially equal... Who know how many times I begged for their approval. I didn’t care if my family disowned me.

I went to her house everyday... But I realized that I never asked how she felt about me after persuading both of our parents... I remember my body shaking when I asked her to marry me.

I promised her that I’ll love her for the rest of her life... but... I’m sorry, love... I’m sorry I became a vampire... I can’t be by your side anymore.

But I will keep my promise. I’ll always watch over you. Until... your very last moments.”

About the Past “I wasn’t good at kendo, judo, or jukendo... So I worked my butt off. I studied military strategies so that I can become a general one day. Takenaka Hanbei and Kuroda Kanbei were my idols because they won battles solely with their brains...

But the secret order given to me by the Empire was espionage of Britain’s special unit. I had no clue where to look into at first. But soon after, I found that I was gettin’ myself into an atrocious matter...

Nobody would’ve guessed that it was a vampire research. Vampires lost their homes- as modernization took place during the Industrial Revolution. And the British Empire asked for cooperation in exchange for providing them a place to live. Now that I think of it, that was the template of Code Zero...

And I ended up gettin’ bitten, becoming a vampire myself... Nothing went according to plan for me.”

About the Change “Nothin’ interests me since becoming a vampire. Code Zero does pay us... but I told them to send all the money to Tomiko.

I can live as long as I drink blood, so it’s not like I have any hobby. I don’t go watch plays like Suwa. And it’s not like we can go out to eat or grab somethin’ to drink. It’s pointless to dress up. I mean, where do we have that we can go to lookin’ fancy, right?

So, that’s probably why vampires need a hobby or else we’ll die of boredom. I only cared of Tomiko’s happiness and nothin’ else. So, I don’t have a clue how to kill time...

Oh yeah, an ambassador taught me chess back when I was in Britain. Maybe I can be the strongest chess player if I keep playin’ it for 100 years. Kurusu... is my only choice I guess. I doubt he’s any good though.”

#mars red #yamagami tokuichi #it's really sad how much he misses his wife :(

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soprano193 · 4 years

Text

Not a Couple

Chapter 8

Jane:

It only took thirteen seconds for Jane's more sophisticated friend to comment on her outfit. After placing her two suitcases in the back of the cab and hopping in the backseat with Jane, she eyed her friend with eyebrows raised. "Jane, I thought you were kidding about the sweats!"

"I was. Mostly." She laughed to herself as she realized how odd of a pair they made, Jane in her black sweats and a Red Sox tee, and Maura with a pencil skirt and green flowy blouse. "Maura, are you comfortable?" Jane asked, gesturing down to the Doctor's heels.

"Comfortable enough." Her answer was non-committal, accompanied by a shrug of her shoulders. So she wasn't comfortable.

"Maur, we're going to be on a plane for seven hours. The driver can wait a few extra minutes for you to change into something comfortable for the trip."

For a moment, it seemed like the honey blonde would accept the offer to change, or at least pick out more comfortable shoes. But with a shake of her head, Maura resigned herself to her choices. "I'll be fine. I've flown many times in this exact outfit." At her words, the cab lurched forward, headed to Logan.

"Hey, as long as you're comfy."

Her friend laughed. "Well, I can see you are!" From her purse, she pulled out a legal pad, flipping through the pages. "I updated my itinerary. I was up for a while, adding you to my plans, and finding new things that might interest us both." As she chatted away about palaces, catacombs, and cathedrals, Jane watched her face, wondering again in awe how she kept so much information inside her brain. Maura must have seen the look on Jane's face, and stopped her rambling to look at the former Detective, her brows furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing. Just watching your giant brain work." At this, Jane swore she saw the hint of a blush creeping up on her friend's face. Looking down at the legal pad, her eyes fixated on Maura's tidy scrawl. "So, did you pack our days, or did you give us some wiggle room?"

"I picked things that would interest us both, and left days for relaxation and writing in between."

"And in all this planning, did you manage to get any sleep?"

Her friend paused. "Not much. But, I planned a two-day recovery so that we can start to adjust our internal clocks." Maura glances at her, hazel eyes studying her face. "What about you? You left pretty late."

"I didn't sleep. I had a few things to finish packing into the Pod so they can store it for me. And I had to add a few nicer outfits to my suitcase." At Maura's pleased smile, Jane grinned. "Besides, I figured we could sleep on the plane."

"Oh, but we shouldn't!" Maura's outburst startled even the cab driver. "When we get to Paris, it will be nighttime. We should try to stay awake on the plane, and then sleep when we get there. It would be beneficial for our internal clocks."

"Maura! You're telling me that I should stay awake for two days voluntarily?"

She giggled. "You've stayed awake before!"

Jane groaned. "During cases, Maur. When there's a body dump and a killer on the loose. There's a difference." They continued to laugh, talk, and plan during their short ride to Logan. Check-in was quick in the early morning before the busy period started. And they were through security after about 30 minutes.

Once in the terminal, Jane wasted no time searching for a store with coffee. She sent a silent prayer to the coffee Gods when around the corner from their gate was a Boston Joe's kiosk. "Maura, coffee." It was a statement rather than a question, and her friend only nodded in response.

"I'm heading to our gate. I'll meet you there."

Jane nodded in response, tapping her friend on the shoulder before jumping in the back of the line. She almost didn't notice the way Maura stiffened at the contact. As she watched the Doctor walk away, she brushed the stiffness off, figuring it had to be exhaustion.

The line was moving slow. There was only one worker behind the counter and several tired travelers looking for a pick-me-up. After the first customer, her phone chimed. A message from Davies.

C: I heard you were starting late. I hope you're not backing out?

J: I'm not, I promise. Just taking a long-deserved vacation to Paris with Maura.

C: Ah, the City of Love. I've heard great things. Send me pictures?

J: I will. See you in a month.

C: Have fun, Jane.

When she got to the counter, she ordered Maura's non-fat latte with no foam, and her own latte with a triple shot. "My travel companion won't let me sleep on the plane." She explained to the barista, who seemed unfazed by the amount of espresso she was pouring into the former Detective's drink. Coffee firmly in her hands, Jane made her way to the gate.

Maura sat in a chair by the windows, her laptop out as she typed away. "What are you working on?" Passing her friend her drink, she watched Maura's screen.

"Well, my plan for this vacation was to change my scenery and write. I figured I might as well now since I probably won't on the plane." She took a sip of her drink, grinning when she saw the stevia packets in Jane's hand. "Thank you. I have something for you, too." She passed over her boarding pass, her finger lingering over the seat number.

It took Jane a second, but once she saw it, she grinned. "You got your seat changed!"

"I did. The person next to you was happy to switch."

"I call the window seat." This made Maura laugh, which made Jane's heart jump up to her chest. Making Maura laugh was one of her favorite pastimes. It would be hard in a month when she couldn't do that every day. Trying to distract herself from her worries, Jane pulled out her phone. "I should tell Ma we made it to the airport safely."

"I already texted her."

Grinning, Jane watched her friend out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, so I'll watch a movie then." Fishing her headphones out of her pocket, she pulled up Netfix and started a random movie. But instead of watching the movie, she read what Maura was typing.

If Maura noticed the intrusion, she didn't let on. She flipped between her word processor and a scanned version of her outline often. At one point she switched to a page filled with character information, adding to it, expanding on her points. When she hesitated, Jane would watch her face, how her jaw would set and her eyes would narrow as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. Or her small, satisfied smile when she'd written something she liked. Watching Maura's face change as she wrote made Jane want to read her book even more.

On the plane, each passenger had their own little TV on the backs of the chairs in front of them. Once in the air, Maura found archeological documentaries, the kind that had the British narrators that made Jane fall asleep. Jane opted for something with more explosions, to help keep her awake. Unfortunately, around three hours in, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. She tapped her companion, who pulled out an earbud. "I know we're supposed to stay awake, but what's it gonna hurt to take a little nap?"

The Doctor raised her eyebrows at her in response. "Well, it won't hurt, but the time difference and jet lag can be unpleasant. You'll be prone to irritability, fatigue, indigestion, and headaches."

"Maur, I'm already fatigued, and am halfway to irritable. I need to sleep."

"Well, I won't stop you." Her friend's response was all she needed to hear. From her carry-on luggage, Jane pulled out the matching leopard U-shaped pillow that came with her bag. Her friend's laughter didn't stop her from putting it around her neck and against the plane wall. "Sleep well, Jane."

Despite her exhaustion, sleeping on a plane was proving to be very difficult. Every little movement she could feel, and she had never been great at sleeping while sitting. As she was about to give up and complain, looking to Maura for support, she found her friend with eyelids fluttering, her chin resting on her fist. "Maur," She started, making the Doctor startle, "get some rest. You're tired."

The honey blonde shook her head, blinking her hazel eyes. "I can't. I don't want to be irritable."

"Maura, you're with me. I'll forgive you." Jane felt her face soften as she tugged her friend to her, letting Maura rest her head on Jane's shoulder. As Maura snuggled in, letting sleep get the best of her, Jane rested her head on top of Maura's, finally losing consciousness.

They were awoken by the flight attendants, who were preparing for landing. Announcements were made over the speaker that they were approaching their destination. Jane lifted her shade to see what was going on. Maura peering over her shoulder, Jane held her breath until they landed safely on another continent.

It took them almost two hours to clear customs, their bags being the last off the plane. Maura hailed a taxi outside to take them to their hotel. Inside the cab, she spoke perfect French with the driver, which Jane watched in awe. Too tired to even try to follow the conversation, she instead opted to text her Mother, making sure she knew they arrived.

The cab dropped them off at a hotel walking distance from the tower. It looked huge, lit up in the night, glowing beacons shining in the air. Jane could feel her mouth opening as she took it all in. Sure, she knew they were in another country, far from home, but seeing the tower like that, so close, that's when it hit her. She was in Paris. With Maura.

As her friend entered her thoughts, she felt a hand slip into hers and tug it, pulling her gently along the sidewalk. "Jane, come on."

"Pinch me."

The Doctor's laughter was gentle, as she pulled herself into Jane's side, lacing their fingers together. "Why would I want to do that?"

Jane squeezed the younger woman's hand. "So I know this is real." The light chuckle and grin that adorned Maura's face, her dimples showing as she walked backward, it almost outshone the tower.

Their room had a view of the Tower from the balcony. Jane stood at the full-length windows and stared for just a bit longer before being pulled out of her trance by the blonde Doctor placing pills into her hands. "Melatonin. It should help with the jet lag." At Jane's quirked eyebrow, she continued. "It will help you sleep." Jane didn't question it further, and accepted the glass of water her friend held out. The honey-blonde made her way across the room to the bathroom, gathering some clothing from her opened bag as she went. "As much as I want to unpack, I also feel like it's important that we sleep." Jane took the opportunity while her friend was getting ready to change clothes, drawing the curtains closed. "I'm worried that it will be difficult given our nap on the plane."

"I'm not," Jane answered back as she yawned, throwing her travel clothes in a pile and climbing under the covers on her side of the bed. "I think that melanin you gave me is kicking in." As she closed her eyes, she heard her friend chuckle, her footsteps coming closer to the bed. By the time Maura had set up her phone charger and joined Jane under the covers, Jane was asleep.

When her eyes opened next, the clock on the side of the bed shone back at her. 3:42 am. Part of her wanted to groan and fall back asleep, but she woke feeling refreshed. Blaming it on the time change, she turned to face Maura.

Maura was still asleep, her breathing even, her face serene. Despite the long day of travel, her hair was still in perfect waves which sloped gracefully over the curve of her cheek. Jane reached over to brush a stray piece out of her eyes, and felt her breath hitch as she waited to see if Maura woke. Instead, it seemed as if the blonde smiled at Jane's touch, relaxing more in her slumber. Jane felt her heart flip at the intimacy of the moment, realizing that the only other person who would ever experience this was Maura's eventual spouse. It was a strange honor to see the well put together Doctor in such a vulnerable place, and Jane scoffed as she realized that she was jealous of a person who didn't exist yet.

Pushing her thoughts from her head, Jane decided to peruse Facebook, looking at photos from her friends back home. After a few minutes, when she remembered where they were, she climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping companion. Walking to the window, she pulled it open and stared out in awe. The Tower's lights were off, but she could still make out the imposing figure in the darkness. The lights absolutely added to its beauty, but just knowing it was there sent shivers down her spine.

The hand pressed into the small of her back had surprised her, but instead of jumping, she leaned back into it, until Maura's arm wrapped around her and she situated herself at Jane's hip. "The lights stop at 1 am." Maura's voice was soft, like she was afraid to break the serenity of the moment.

"I wasn't complaining." She felt Maura chuckle beside her. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't." The reassurance made Jane let out her breath, relaxing more into her friend's embrace. "How long have you been awake?"

"Just about ten minutes. I remembered where we were and thought I'd admire the view."

"That's a good plan." Maura stood with her, looking out at the Tower, street lamps, trees, and buildings that they could see from their window. "It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

Jane turned her head to look at her friend. Her face was lit up by the glow of the moonlight, her mouth pulled up in the corners, her eyes wide as they looked around the city. Jane was looking at Maura when she answered. "Yeah. Gorgeous."

________________________________________________________________

They spent the first few days adjusting their internal clocks. As much as Jane wanted to explore this foreign city, she also was glad for the time to reacclimate. They found a few coffee shops and restaurants near them and went grocery shopping for some fruits and other things to have in the room. Maura dedicated two hours each day to writing, time that Jane had decided to dedicate to reading or Duolingo. She wouldn't be fluent, but at least she could ask where the bathroom was and understand the response.

Maura set up their first outing, keeping the plans to herself. "At least tell me if I need to dress up."

"No need. Dress comfortably." This was all the permission Jane needed to pull out her BPD sweatpants and a comfy t-shirt. Maura only shook her head, not saying a word, a smile on her face.

"You said 'comfortably'!" Jane shouted in an accusatory tone at Maura's face.

"I did, I wasn't planning on saying anything." Her friend laughed as Jane changed, and she chattered away about lunch plans, when she wanted to write, and her desire to take ridiculous touristy photos.

Jane assured her that they would take all the photos she wanted to. "We need more pictures together, anyway. And my new apartment will need decorating." It was the first time in days that Jane had mentioned her upcoming move, and almost immediately she regretted it. She could see the flash of sadness on Maura's face, her hands fidgeting, followed by her immediate compartmentalization. Trying to bring levity to the room again, Jane smiled. "So tell me more about this adventure."

Maura brought her on a guided tour of the Catacombs. If anyone else had brought her, she would have found it creepy. Most people don't tour graveyards. But this was different. Jane learned about the transfer of hundreds of bodies from overflowing cemeteries to underground quarries, under the cover of darkness so citizens wouldn't be alarmed. They walked along corridors with bones lining the walls in elegant patterns, their tour guide explaining the painstaking work that went into the design. Unable to resist, Jane leaned over to Maura and whispered, "this looks like a scene right out of Scooby-Doo." The Doctor's stifled laughter and the looks of other tourists were worth the glare of the guide.

At a Cafe along the Seine, while eating sandwiches and sipping wine, a woman approached and spoke with Maura. Jane was not proficient enough to figure out what the woman was saying, but watched as a flustered Maura blushed and answered her back. The woman gave an awkward smile and rushed away, nodding at Jane as she left. Not wanting to be left out, Jane looked at the still red blonde, waiting for an answer to her unasked question. Maura gave a nervous chuckle before explaining. "She said she thought we made a cute couple."

Jane furrowed her brows and looked toward the door, where the woman had made a quick exit. "What brought that on?" Looking at the way they were sitting, she didn't notice anything different. They weren't any more affectionate than usual, although she was aware that some people found their affection for one another unusual. Shrugging, she turned back to the younger woman. "I mean, I know we aren't the last people to be approached awkwardly in public. Frankie and Nina get a comment monthly about how beautiful their baby will be." She took a sip of wine. "And it was only Ma once."

This made Maura laugh, her fingers trailing along the bottom of her wine glass. "Your mother says a lot of intrusive things. And asks a lot of questions. It's endearing."

"It's annoying."

Laughing, Maura took a sip of her wine before gesturing to the door, where the woman had left. "What kind of questions do you think your Mother would ask us?"

"If we were in a relationship?" Jane clarified before continuing, waiting for the nod of the Doctor's head. "Probably the same thing she would ask any lesbian couple. Who pays for dinner? Who asks who on the date? Who is going to carry her grandchildren, because so far only one of her children has succeeded in that?"

"Which one is the man?" Maura added, her eyebrows raised at that last word as she waited to watch Jane's reaction.

"Yes, she would ask that. And I thought we established years ago that I would be the guy." Jane smiled to herself as she remembered that case at Merch, going undercover, turning her head and being face to face with Maura's…

"But Jane, isn't the point of a same-sex relationship, that neither one of us is 'the guy'?"

Maura punctuated her words with air quotations, making Jane snort. "You do have a point there, Maur."

Both women dropped the conversation and went back to their meals. It wasn't the first time they had flirted with the idea of dating one another. But for once, it was the first time Jane had felt sorry to see the conversation end. As Maura ate, jotting things down about the setting that she could use in her story later, Jane wondered how her Mother would react to her dating the younger blonde. She had always seen Maura as another daughter, and certainly treated her with as much kindness as she treated the rest of her children. Plus, Maura was a Doctor, so she had that going for her.

"Jane." Her friend's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Jane's nod was slow as she blinked herself to reality. "Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking that I haven't texted Ma in a few days, I should do that." Maura accepted this response, her eyes floating back to her notebook. Jane let out a breath, careful not to draw attention to herself. She did send out a quick text to her mother, along with a photo of Maura next to a skull. It looks like you girls are having a great time. Looking back at Maura, Jane smiled. Maura was very concentrated on her descriptions, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. Every so often she would look up, cock her head as she looked at something, then scribble down another description. Jane found the sight amusing, yet endearing. Watching, she realized that before she worried about how her Mother would react, she needed to figure out her own feelings first.

________________________________________________________________

A few days later, they visited the Louvre. Jane had never been a fan of art museums, but she knew that this was the trip Maura didn't want to miss. "This is where the Mona Lisa is, right? Let's go see it first, and look at all these other things later."

Maura grabbed her hand, pulling her back to the Doctor's side. "No." She said it in a matter-of-fact tone that made Jane stop. "Everyone goes there first. The best thing to do is wait until closing time, when crowds have thinned."

Jane couldn't help but groan. That was the only piece of artwork that even slightly piqued her interest. Holding a map of the vast museum in her hands, she sighed, ignoring the amused look on Maura's face. "Fine. As long as we still get to see it."

"I promise, you'll see it." Maura giggled, pulling her into a room.

The museum proved to be more interesting than Jane had anticipated. For one, it was interesting to see how many "Virgin and Child" sculptures could fit in a single room. Walking through the sculptures, Jane watched the progression and noted the subtle differences in style. Meanwhile, Maura chatted away, throwing out words like 'gothic', or 'renaissance' off the top of her head. Jane never needed to read a plaque, or plug in and listen. She had a walking encyclopedia who was raised by an art teacher at her side.

As they made their way into the rooms with Roman and Greek statues, they came across one that Jane recognized immediately. "Maura, please tell me there's not a body in it this time."

Her friend paused before answering, her head cocked to one side. "That would be highly unlikely, but I can't rule it out."

Shaking her head, Jane linked elbows with her, pulling her forward. "Well go stand next to it so I can get a picture."

"What? Why?"

"You wanted to take touristy photos! This is a touristy photo." She positioned Maura next to the giant sculpture and backed away until she could fit both in her picture. "Maur, pose like the statue."

"What should I do with my arms?" She waved them around for emphasis.

"Whatever you want. Imagine what she may have been doing." Reluctantly, Maura did just that. Her left knee angled and her body twisted slightly, she placed her right arm over her stomach, and her left pushed forward, as if holding up a mirror. Jane snapped the picture, walking back toward her friend. "Very intellectual, Maura. Do me." Jane stood in the same place, waiting for Maura to get her framing right. Once she held up her phone, Jane extended her arms to the left side of her body and started swaying her hips like she was doing the hula. Laughing, Maura took her picture, her head shaking.

As she approached, she held her arm out, lacing it back through Jane's elbow as they fell back into step. "It's highly unlikely that anyone in ancient Greece would know how to hula." She wore a smile on her face, knowing full well that Jane was messing with her.

"Well, I'll take my chances. You could be wrong this one time."

"Perhaps." The Doctor conceded with a smile, pulling Jane into another room.

The best part of the Louvre was definitely watching Maura. The way she examined every detail of the paintings and sculptures, her hazel eyes darting around, taking them all in. The way she spouted facts like it was nothing, again making Jane wonder where she kept all that information. It was, of all things, stone statues of winged bulls with human heads, that made Maura stop in her tracks. Jane understood it to a point, they were massive and made her feel small. Jane placed her hand in the small of Maura's back, trying to move her along, but her feet were planted. "Tell me what you're thinking, Maur."

"It's just," she gestured in the air, her hands not settling on any one thing, "these statues are over three thousand years old, Jane. And made from stone. And they're so well preserved, and detailed, and here. It's amazing."

Jane had a memory at that moment, of Maura going on about being in awe of what human beings can do. It was endearing at the time, but now, seeing it in action, watching the look on her face, Jane knew this was incredible for her. "Yeah. It's amazing." She responded, her eyes fixated on her friend's face.

They made it to see the Mona Lisa before closing, Jane shocked to realize just how small it was. She then dragged her friend to take more photos in the gardens and along the Place de la Concorde. Then they returned to their hotel room so Maura could write. While Maura worked on her project, Jane recounted the memories from the day. Maura's laughter at her dancing, her never-ending knowledge that she shared so willingly, and that look of awestruck wonder that made her so beautiful. Looking across the room at Maura, Jane felt her stomach sink as she thought about leaving. This trip was making everything so hard.

________________________________________________________________

It was during a morning writing session that Jane realized that Maura was staring at her. She tried to ignore it at first, returning to her phone, but every time she looked up, Maura was looking at her. "Am I distracting you? I can go work out for a bit if I'm bothering you."

"No, please don't." She closed the top of her laptop. "I'm describing you."

"Why?" Jane's brows furrowed as she looked at her friend, her phone falling to her lap.

"They told me my characters and setting were flat. I need to practice using my senses to make people and characters come alive." With that, she reopened her laptop, going back to typing.

"Does it have to be me?" Jane asked as she watched Maura look up at her again.

"Whom else do you suggest I describe?" At this Jane shrugged, picking her phone back up and listening to the green owl teach her French. At one point, she looked over and saw Maura watching her again, her eyes focused on Jane's feet dangling in the chair. Jane began to wiggle them, making Maura roll her eyes. "You have to pretend I'm not watching you. Act natural."

Jane returned her feet to normal, stilling them. "Okay, bossy." This elicited a chuckle from the Doctor, putting a small smile on Jane's face. Jane decided to focus on her Duolingo, finding her French skills improving. When Maura closed her laptop, standing once the hour was up, Jane held out a hand for the Doctor's device. "Do I get to read it?"

Maura's eyes grew wide as she held her computer close to her. "No. It's private."

"Maura! You wrote about me! I should be able to read it!" She was pouting as she whined, her hands opening and closing.

The Doctor chuckled at the sight in front of her, shaking her head. "No, Jane. It's private. And it's not important, it was just an exercise." At Jane's huff of displeasure, she continued. "But give me a few days, I want you to read my revisions on my manuscript."

Playing up her disappointment, Jane huffed. "Fine. That kind of makes up for your secrecy." The only response from the Doctor was more chuckling as she tucked away her computer and changed for the day.

________________________________________________________________

The day they went to Notre Dame, it was rainy. Maura fretted in their hotel room about her hair, and the rain messing it up. "It's the perfect day to pull it back, then." Jane tried to reason with her as she redressed. "You always look nice when you pull it back."

"You think so?" The honey-blonde poked her head out from the bathroom, her hair gathered in her hands as she looked toward the former Detective.

"I do." Taking this positive response, the Doctor disappeared. If Jane was being honest, her friend always looked amazing. No matter what she decided to do with her hair, or what outfit she chose to wear, she always looked amazing. "Do you think I would lie about that?"

Emerging from the bathroom with a smile and high ponytail, the younger woman reached for her umbrella and purse. "I think if you thought it would get me out of the room faster, you might."

Stopping Maura from leaving with her hand on the door, Jane made sure to look in her eyes, her face soft as she spoke. "You're gorgeous, my friend."

Maura stifled her smile, as any humble person would. "Somehow that sounds familiar."

"Yeah, a know-it-all told me that, once." With a chuckle, they left, walking side by side.

Upon entering the cathedral, Jane crossed herself before she lost her breath. Maura's hand in the small of her back kept her moving, but her eyes hadn't come down yet. The ceilings were so high, the room so large, she felt small in comparison. Maura walked at her pace through it all, allowing her to examine the artwork and the architecture. They both stopped to stare at one of the rose windows, high in the air, and at that moment Jane knew what Maura meant when she said that she was in awe of what humans could do.

While admiring the high ceilings and stained glass, Maura's voice pulled her out of her trance, low and reverent as she admired the cathedral. "Standing here as a non-believer, I have to admit that I understand." She met Jane's eyes, and continued at her furrowed brows and curious look. "I mean, just being in here makes me feel insignificant. Like there has to be something else out there, something bigger than myself. It's easy to see why many turn to religious beliefs when they are looking for something more."

Grabbing the younger woman's hand, Jane gave it a squeeze. "You know you're significant, right?"

She nodded. "I do. And I hope you know that too." Jane realized she was blushing, heat rising to her cheeks as she saw Maura's genuine smile. She gently moved Jane along to discover more within the walls.

They stumbled upon an altar with a picture of the Virgin and Child in the background. Red and white flags (Polish, Maura told her with a smile) hung on either side. The picture depicted the mother and Jesus with dark complexions, brilliant gold halos on top of their heads. Maura began talking about Black Madonnas found elsewhere in Europe. "Considering Jesus was reportedly middle eastern, these paintings would be more historically accurate," she explained, as Jane pulled her to see more stained glass windows.

It was the window that seemed to depict a journey that caught Maura's attention, her eyes following the detail. The light shone through this window just right, making Maura's face glow in shades of red, a stray strand of hair grazing against her cheek. Jane's heart skipped a beat, her stomach fluttered, and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around the awe inspiring woman she called her best friend. Before she could stop it, she spoke. "So beautiful."

Maura, not moving her eyes from the window, answered back. "Yeah, it is."

As their vacations began to come to a close, Jane found it harder and harder to imagine returning to a life without Maura. They talked about plans, Jane's moving process, Skype schedules, and holidays. As much as Jane didn't want to think about it, she knew planning was the best way to combat Maura's anxiety about her leaving. As for her, she was happy to wake up next to Maura every day, to watch her as she slept, to see the subtle changes in her face as she wrote. It was in the quiet of one of those moments, when she had to resist the urge to press a gentle kiss to her lips, that Jane realized what she was walking away from. That she may be leaving the love of her life along with her family to pursue this next step in her career. Sometimes it made her question her decision.

________________________________________________________________

Their last big tour was to Versailles. The grounds were large, the gardens full, and Jane had to fight to keep her face neutral as Maura twirled in the hall of mirrors like a little girl. "Jane, can you imagine attending a ball in the past?"

"What, with the tight bodices, and the hoop skirts so wide they make your ass look huge?" Maura laughed, and Jane felt a pull in her gut. "Yeah, I'm gonna pass."

"Jane! You looked amazing in your Revolutionary War dress." Her hands played with the edges of Jane's jacket. "It would be like that, but with more frills."

"Maura, when would I ever say 'more frills'?" Maura laughed at her, dropping the jacket and moving away, and for a moment Jane wondered if she felt it too. Pushing down her feelings, she continued as normal. "What, are you gonna teach me to waltz too?"

"Oh, not the Waltz." She turned away and wandered down the hall, knowing Jane would follow behind her. "The Waltz only became popular after the Revolution, after the palace at Versailles fell out of use."

"Well, excuse me for being ahead of my time." She couldn't help but laugh with Maura as she turned back around to face the taller woman, walking backwards in the hall.

"If it helps, I've always admired that about you." She caught sight of herself in the mirrors and twirled, slow and graceful, making Jane glad she still had her phone out to capture it on camera. She thought back to that revolutionary war era dress, Maura done up in frills and bows, her hair in a graceful yet intricate updo, and she remembered how beautiful she looked that day. If only she had realized what was right in front of her sooner.

They made their way into another room, either the war room or the peace room. Jane wasn't paying attention as Maura spoke, and was instead looking at all the gold that adorned the walls. "How rich do you have to be to cover all the walls with gold?"

"Gilded bronze." Maura corrected, admiring the large circular painting on the wall.

"Okay. How rich do you need to be to cover all the walls with gilded bronze?"

Maura laughed at the question, bringing a smile to Jane's face. She pointed behind them, into the hallway. "Actually, the real impressive thing here is the mirrors."

"The mirrors are impressive?"

Maura nodded, looking into Jane's eyes as she spoke. "Yes, mirrors in the 18th century were very expensive, only the elite could afford them. That whole hallway was meant to remind allies and enemies how rich the French monarchy was."

Glancing back to the hallway, Jane couldn't help but scoff. "That's a lot of money to blow on an ego boost."

"I found the effect rather striking. Didn't you?" Maura wasn't looking at her anymore as she spoke, her head tilted upward as she examined paintings on the ceiling.

Thinking back to Maura in the hall of mirrors, twirling as she caught sight of herself, Jane couldn't help but smile. "The effect was definitely striking." Her friend laughed at Jane's tone before taking a hold of her hand, pulling her to another room.

When they finished in the palace, Jane pulled Maura into the gardens. Maura had told her they were almost three times the size of Central Park. They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening looking at trees in boxes, hunting down fountains, and watching water shows in the most elaborate outdoor setting Jane had ever seen. The few pictures she took of Maura near some blossoms she knew she would treasure forever.

________________________________________________________________

"Let's go somewhere nice to eat." Maura's voice pulled Jane from her haze. It was their last day in the city of lights, that fact made more real as Jane checked into her flight. "I can get us reservations at a restaurant near the Tower."

"I'm not opposed." The words sent her friend into a flurry of activity. Between looking at review, getting changed, and making calls, she was all over the room in varying stages of undress. It wasn't the first time she had seen the Doctor in varying stages of undress. A month ago it would have been just another day in their lives. But now Jane found herself looking away, trying to forget how her creamy skin contrasted with her deep purple bra. She breathed a sigh of relief as Maura emerged from the bathroom in a pink blouse, her hair straight instead of her usual loose curls.

"I've found a restaurant." She said with a triumphant grin. "Get dressed, we leave in a half an hour."

Jane pulled her one good white blouse out of her suitcase. It had black piping along the edges and down the center of the shirt. This paired with her black pants was as fancy as she was willing to get. Emerging from the bathroom, she breathed a sigh of relief at Maura's nod of approval. She had added a rose gold bracelet to her ensemble, as well as some simple silver earrings. "You look great." Jane breathed, hoping it didn't sound as awkward as it made her feel.

"Thank you. That top is stunning on you." The returned compliment made the former Detective blush. "I haven't seen it before."

"Ma picked it out about three years ago. So naturally, I haven't worn it." Her explanation made the honey-blonde snort, her head shaking. "I know, it's silly. But sometimes she picks out clothing with an ulterior motive, so I don't wear it when she wants me to."

"Jane, you have to let that black dress thing go."

Grabbing her wallet and following Maura out the door, Jane corrected her. "That wasn't the only time, Maura."

The restaurant was nice enough, tucked away into a corner, the Tower seen only in the distance. Maura ordered the duck, while Jane stuck with a meal she knew she would like, beef tenderloin. For a while they talked about Maura's book, and the changes she had made. They then reminisced about their favorite parts of their vacation together, planning to choose another location to visit together in a year. But as dinner came, they had to address their impending separation. "I fear that this vacation has only increased my sadness about you leaving." Maura broke the ice, her face down as she spoke.

Reaching across the table, Jane caressed her hand, the touch foreign to her now with her realized feelings. "Am I still sad? Absolutely. But I don't regret this time I've had to spend with you." Maura's lips pulled up for a split second as she tried to smile through her sadness. "Besides, I'll be back before you know it for Thanksgiving."

Huffing, she pulled her hand away from Jane's, returning to her meal. "I know. And when I have long weekends, I can come down for a visit."

"Exactly!" This made the younger woman smile brighter as she sat up taller in her seat. "Frankie said the drive wasn't too bad."

"Frankie made the drive?"

Nodding, Jane took a bite of her food. "Yeah, he drove my car down there, and Ma drove him back. He and Tommy set up my bed, and left my apartment keys under my floor mats."

"So you're all set up."

"The rest of my stuff will arrive in two days. I'm just waiting for an email from the FBI outlining my first few days." At the mention of the organization, her mind flashed to the man who had offered her the job, the special agent who asked her for pictures of Paris. The special agent she hadn't answered in a month. Even though she was slowly realizing that a relationship between them was not going to work out, she hadn't meant to ghost him. "Shit."

"What's the matter?" Maura looked concerned, her eyes blinking as she looked at her friend.

"Agent Davies. He asked me for pictures of our vacation, and I've ignored him all month long."

"Oh." Maura's reply was curt, shocking Jane with the harshness of it. "You'll see him in a few days. You can catch him up then."

"I know." Taking a sip of her wine, she continued. "I wasn't gonna text him right now. It's our last night in Paris. Tonight everything is about you." Maura seemed to relax at this, loosening her shoulders and speaking in a normal voice.

After dinner they walked along the Seine, taking in the sights and sounds together. They reminisced about cases, funny stories with Jane's family, and their significant others who never seemed to stick. Maura was careful not to bring up Davies, but why, Jane couldn't understand. Maybe she was sensing the doubts Jane was feeling. She hoped Maura wouldn't figure out why she was having doubts. That would be harder to explain.

They found themselves standing on a bridge. A ferry boat was out in the distance. The sky was getting dark. Maura took a moment, closing her eyes and listening to the sounds. Jane took the opportunity to snap a picture. Maura saw the flash, shaking her head. "Jane, let me see it."

"It's gorgeous, Maura." She was gorgeous. She couldn't say that out loud again. But she turned her phone around so Maura could see it, grinning when she nodded her head in approval. "We should get one together."

"Jane, I don't know if I want to take pictures."

"C'mon, Maura." She turned her camera around and stood next to her friend. Demonstrating on her screen, she showed her friend. "See those lights back there? It will make for a nice photo." Her friend nodded, and Jane wrapped her arm around Maura's waist, holding her other arm out to take the photo. Maura's arm wrapped around her back. "One. Two. Three." Jane smiled and took a picture, realizing only after the flash that Maura had been looking not at the camera, but at Jane's face. She turned to her friend, feigning upset with her voice. "Maura! You have to look at the camera. It'll be pretty!"

But Maura was looking at her with soft, wide eyes, her smile broad and unwavering. "Yeah, pretty." It seemed as though Maura was leaning closer, her eyes closing and mouth parting. And before Jane could stop herself, she closed that gap, letting her lips meet Maura's. Her hand fell, placing her phone in her pocket so she could put both her hands on the younger woman's waist, pulling her closer. The small moan Maura let out made Jane weak at the knees, and she opened her mouth for more.

But as she did, Maura pulled away, biting her lips and looking away. "I'm sorry." She covered the lower half of her face with her hand.

Jane wasn't sorry. Everything she had been figuring out was answered once her lips met Maura's. Her past actions, their closeness, the way she was drawn to Maura, it all made sense. And yet, now her friend was standing across from her looking ashamed. In one moment, Jane had figured out what she needed, and lost it all at once. "Oh my God."

"Jane, wait."

Jane began to back away. "Oh my God."

"Jane, please!"

Jane ran. Even as she could hear her friend pleading with her. She ran, letting the hot tears spill from her face. She ran to the place that had been home for the last month. Traces of Maura were everywhere. She couldn't escape. She paced the floor of their room. At some point, she would have to face Maura, have to face the shame and disappointment. Catching sight of her pajamas, she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it would work.

Maura had tried to give her space. She returned to the room half an hour after Jane had. But Jane had decided to hide, wrapping herself in blankets and pretending to sleep. "Jane?" Her friend called out, her voice small in the large space. Jane stuck with her charade, not moving, evening her breathing. "I want to talk. Can we talk?" She could feel Maura's presence standing next to her. When she said nothing, Maura cursed. "Shit." She kicked off her heels and crawled on the other side of the bed. "What have I done?" A part of Jane wanted to roll over and hug her, was angry at herself for causing her friend so much pain. But another didn't want to face the shame, the embarrassment she caused her friend. She had just lost so much, she couldn't lose any more. So she stayed wrapped in her cocoon, ignoring the words of her friend, her heart breaking into more tiny pieces.

Maura fell asleep after about an hour, though Jane could tell it was restless. She tossed and turned, and the look on her face was not the serene picture it had been for the past few weeks. Jane on the other hand, did not sleep. She replayed that kiss in her mind over and over, reveling in the moan, the feel of Maura's hand on her hip. Then she replayed the look of shame, the way Maura crumpled in on herself. She watched it again and again. Now Maura knew. Maura knew Jane loved her, and she didn't feel the same. It was too much to bear.

Jane left an hour earlier for her flight, hailing a taxi at the front desk. She scribbled a note to Maura before leaving, dropping it on her pillow. I hope you can forget this someday. She didn't sleep until she was on her plane, the neck pillow squashed up against the window. No one teased her about the print, no one told her she had to try to stay awake. The person next to her did not watch documentaries that made her fall asleep. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She blew it.

________________________________________________________________

Three days later in her new apartment, her phone rings. Picking it up, she is met with an accusatory voice on the other end. "What happened?" It was Frankie, always concerned. Thankfully, Maura had people in Boston looking out for her.

"Frankie, I fucked up." She sat on her bed, the only piece of furniture she had unpacked.

"Hence why I'm calling you. Janie, Maura won't talk about the trip. She's just really down. She'd not even talking to Ma. What happened?"

Free hand rubbing her eyes, Jane answered. "I kissed her."

There was a long pause, "I don't understand why that would make her upset."

"Frankie, she was ashamed. Maybe of me, maybe not, I don't know. All I know is that I realized I'm in love with her, we kissed, and now she's ashamed."

"Janie. She's not ashamed of you."

Letting out a breath through her nose, she continued. "Well, if she wasn't, she is now."

"You guys need to talk."

"I don't disagree. But I need time."

Jane could hear his car door shut. "Well, don't wait too long."

"I'll try. Don't tell Ma."

Her brother laughed. "I'll try. But you know me, I fall for all her tricks."

"Great." After saying their goodbyes, she hung up. Opening the gallery on her phone, she looked through all the photos she had of Maura. Posing next to a skull, Admiring paintings at the Louvre, posing like statues, smelling trees at Versailles. That last photo, of the two of them together on that bridge would forever be her favorite.

________________________________________________________________

"Janie! I'm lost!" Her Mother had this weird habit of yelling through the phone, so Jane put it on speakerphone and left it on her counter.

"Ma, I sent you the address!"

"I know, but Ron's GPS isn't working and my phone keeps sending me in circles!"

Jane had to laugh. Her Mother had a hard time with technology. "Where is Ron?"

"Back at the hotel. He's researching GPSes."

"Well, send me your location, and I'll come meet you." Her Mother had been good at that. For a while after Maura's kidnapping, she used to do it to give Jane peace of mind. With a ping, Angela sent her location, and was just a couple of blocks away.

Jane pulled into the empty parking lot, and parked right next to Ron's white car. Her Mother got out when Jane did, and despite her protests, wrapped Jane in a huge hug. "I've wanted to do this for two months, missy. Deal with it."

Jane hadn't seen her Mom since leaving for France. After a week of Maura and Jane both being stateside, Ron decided to take Angela on a road trip. They had spent a few days in New York City, a couple of days at the Hamptons, had been to Hershey Pennysylvania, and had updated Jane on their journey along the way. "Well, I'm sorry to hear about the GPS." Jane teased her Mother, putting her hands in her pockets. "You can just follow me home, though."

"Sounds like a plan." At this Jane nodded, reaching for her door. "Oh, Jane! You'll never guess what I saw on the road!"

Stopping, Jane turned her head to face her Mother. "Was it the Mystery Machine?"

Angela laughed. "Not this time! No, we saw a turtle. Ron got out to help it across the road."

"That's nice, Ma." Jane smiled, reaching again for her car door handle. "Let's head to my apartment."

"Or maybe it was a tortoise." Jane stopped again as she spoke, sighing. "I could never tell those apart too good."

"Ma, it's hot. Let's get out of the sun. Then you can text your favorite Doctor and find out for sure."

"Well I'm just saying, I'm glad it wasn't a snapping turtle. Ron needs his fingers, you know." Angela laughed, her eyes following a car pulling in behind them.

Jane was growing tired, and had forgotten how sometimes it could be hard to get Angela back on task. "Ma, just get in the car! You can tell me all about the turtle or tortoise later!"

But as she reached for the door handle, she heard a voice from behind her that stopped her in her tracks. "Angela? Jane? What are you guys doing here?"

#fanfiction #my fic #rizzles #rizzles fic #not a couple #rizzoli and isles

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writer-and-artist27 · 3 years

Text

Sisterly Hug

Note: Started writing this when I couldn’t fall asleep one night, and I ended up thinking of you, friend. Just you, @partialdignity.

Since it’s not June 30th by the time I post this, eh. I’ll say it anyway.

Happy Birthday, Carim. Just remember, even in the anxiety-filled moments, that I appreciate you and love you platonically, okay? Besides, it’s hard for Be Vy to lie these days. :)

I did my best to write Rem based on your Bonds {Redux} and this image Pan shared a while back. Otherwise, here’s the song I was listening to while writing. Please listen to it while reading, friend. :)

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

It wasn’t the first time Vy found herself quiet. It wouldn’t be the last either, where her voice would be the first thing to leave her from exhaustion. As much as things were slightly easier now that Chaldea had a home again in the Wandering Sea, it didn’t change the main situation at hand.

The Crypters were still at large, the Foreign God was a threat that couldn’t be ignored, and the Lostbelts couldn’t be left alone forever.

It didn’t stop Vy from feeling like someone had hit her over the head with a hammer. Maybe she should’ve taken Robin’s suggestion of napping earlier, just to have more energy for later things, such as cooking practice with Arturia. It would’ve prevented the current situation where she felt like a zombie stumbling throughout Novum Chaldea in an attempt to find somewhere comfy to be. Magic energy drain wasn’t fun, especially when she was starting to get used to it on a daily basis. Mom and Dad would probably be having a heart attack, not to mention Mash and Goredolf.

But instead of resting in bed, Vy found herself barely hanging onto a whiteboard and a dry erase marker, gaze lingering on the only other Master in the Wandering Sea.

Rem didn’t flinch once Vy slowly flopped down to sit next to her on the only bench in the hallway, sparing a small glance from her Chaldea-brand tablet before going back to her screen of what looked like team compositions. “Vy,” Rem started softly, brushing a stray strand of curly blue hair behind her ear, “shouldn’t you be napping?”

Vy weakly raised her left hand to gently poke Rem’s shoulder through the sleeve of her mystic code, making sure Rem had her attention on Vy’s whiteboard before uncapping her dry erase marker to scribble.

Can’t sleep yet, she eventually wrote, showing the words to Rem before taking her whiteboard back to write more. Saw you around and wanted to see how you were doing.

Even without raising her head, Vy could vaguely make out Rem’s fond exasperation through the shade of her long brown hair as a hand proceeded to nudge her shoulder in return. “I’m just planning for the next Lostbelt, Vy, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” A quiet chuckle echoed in the hallway and it took Vy a few seconds too long to realize it was Rem who did it. “Too tired to use your voice?”

Vy took the cap of her dry erase marker, exposing the fuzzy eraser tip to wipe away at her whiteboard before pressing the marker to the surface again. Always get like this when there’s been too much prana use, Vy eventually “said,” weakly shrugging her shoulders. Hard to talk. Original Da Vinci gave me the board and marker. Something about it running without worry on ink refills. Vy stopped, considered, then erased her surface to finish her point with a shakier, Magic? Dr. Roman always smiled whenever I talked to him like this.

“Ah,” Rem said. A small pause followed, then the hand on her shoulder gently pushed again (almost as if saying, hey, no nodding off here, amiga) as Rem added, “What were you farming this time, mija?”

Embers and Blue Skill Gems, Vy wrote, doing her best to fight a particularly heavy blink of her eyes as warmth started to settle into her chest. Rem called her mija again. Maou-san and Nagetora-san needed a lot of them. And then there’s the two Nero-sans…

Writing the actual “dot dot dot” on the whiteboard seemed to have taken Rem out of whatever she was looking at because her shoulders were shaking and Vy could hear laughter even through the blank haze of her brain. “U-Understandable,” Rem said, snickering. “Mija, you seem to have a knack for getting all the Knight classes.”

Maybe? Vy wrote, slowly tilting her head up to look at her friend, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose enough to make Rem’s form appear blurry. From habit, Vy pushed them up to readjust her eyes before writing the next thought to come to mind. Dunno why Maou-san decided to visit and I can’t exactly speak for the Neros when Big Robin wasn’t happy about it, but it happened, so…

“The two Roman Kings could use a few lessons in humility and singing,” Rem agreed with another hastily hidden chuckle, her fingers proceeding to smooth out a wrinkle on the shoulder of Vy’s white dress. “But don’t let them know I said that.”

I won’t, Vy responded, raising her head to give Rem a small smile. I prefer hearing your voice, Daddy’s, or Mash’s instead. Vy did her best not to flush red as she carefully wrote after a second of thought, Maybe Big Robin’s voice too.

Rem paused, flushing a little at Vy’s whiteboard message before glancing at her with a curious look in her eyes. “Your dad sang?”

Enough to make all the girls at his community college like him, Vy “said”, a weak giggle echoing in her throat. English, Vietnamese, he was good at both. Japanese could be here-there, but it didn’t matter. He sang for Mommy at their wedding. “Lady in Red,” I think, from the 80s. Everyone in the family loved it.

“He must’ve been really good, then, if he did that much on their special day,” Rem said softly, a curious smile tugging at her lips. Her attention was nowhere along the tablet’s electronic display now. “But what about you, mija?”

Vy quietly tilted her head at her fellow Master, lowering her dry erase marker.

Rem could thankfully read the question in her eyes and shrugged, the smile widening enough to stretch her cheeks. “Don’t you sing too?”

…Kinda? Vy wrote, raising her free hand to wave it back and forth in the air once the message was fully written on her board. Practiced on my own. Watched Daddy sing a lot, but I'm not gonna do it now, though. For extra emphasis, Vy opened her mouth, and Rem watched as a very hoarse yet quiet “See?” left Vy’s throat. As soon as Vy said her part, she closed her mouth just as quickly, going back to her whiteboard with a faint pout. Talking takes energy, Vy eventually scribbled to Rem. So no singing.

“But you’re talking to me right now, mija,” Rem said teasingly.

Vy allowed herself a single vocalized “Muu” while choosing to scoot over and bump Rem’s shoulder with hers. You’re different, Vy eventually wrote after the tinge of “Ow” subsided from her upper arm. You’re cozy. You’re Chị Rem.

“Vy…” Rem trailed off for a moment, enough time to make Vy duck her head and wonder in a brief period of anxiety if she said something wrong, before a hand rested on top of her hair. “You never did explain what Chị meant in Vietnamese.”

It took almost the rest of Vy’s battery to catch herself from unintentionally dropping her marker. That’s…

Vy looked up at Rem past her hair, and Rem smiled at her. “Hm?”

Vy felt her cheeks flush with heat before she realized it, and in a bit of a flustered panic, she turned back to her whiteboard and willed all of her remaining energy into her marker-holding hand. Her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose from the resulting sweat didn’t even matter anymore.

A moment was all it took. Maybe even a minute or two if estimating.

Chị is a pronoun of sorts in Vietnamese, Vy eventually wrote in small lettering, sliding the whiteboard to Rem once she was done. It’s usually used for a young adult woman and/or someone you consider a sister. And you’ve been with me like a big sister, especially through the Lostbelts and everything else since, so…

Rem didn’t say anything for what felt like a long time, having put her tablet down to instead hold Vy’s whiteboard in her hands. Vy noticed how Rem’s brown eyes had stopped at the “sister” part of the message, lingering on the scrawled letters, and something in her chest tightened.

With the last free corner on the board not covered by Rem’s thumb, Vy gently tugged at it to scribble one last time to her fellow Master.

Could I hug you, Chị Rem?

Rem raised her head from her place having previously ducked her mouth into the dark collar of her Winter Chaldean Mystic Code, brown eyes wide. “Vy?”

With no space on the whiteboard left, Vy carefully opened her mouth again, ignoring the scratchiness of her throat. “P-Please?”

You look like you need one.

Rem closed her eyes, ducking her head to face the bench beneath the two of them in what appeared to be conflicted thought and/or consideration, and Vy tilted her head patiently.

“Chị Rem?” Vy tried faintly, ignoring the urge to blink.

Lines formed between Rem’s eyebrows as she proceeded to raise her head and give Vy an expression caught between what looked like tears and a bright, bright smile. “…A-As long as you get a nap afterwards,” Rem said finally, a tiny crick in her voice too as she reached out with her other arm, draping it over Vy’s shoulders. “Else Robin might have my head.”

Vy reached over with her arms too, wrapping them around Rem’s waist and feeling a sigh leave her lips once her forehead found a resting place in the collar of Rem’s Mystic Code. Warm. “H-He… won’t,” left her weakly as she squeezed. “Wanted to… be here…” It was getting harder to keep her eyes open by each passing second.

Wanted to be with you…

Still, above her head, Vy could feel Rem start to laugh, and she politely chose to ignore the wet droplets starting to soak the top of her hair. “You’re too nice, mija,” Rem murmured, a hand rubbing Vy’s back through her dress. Even in a sleepy haze, it was hard to miss Rem’s warm, “Thank you.”

In spite of all that, Vy wasn’t sure if she said “Aye” or not back.

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

The next thing Vy was vaguely aware of when opening her eyes again was the white ceilings of a Chaldean hallway. Her legs were limp, her arms felt heavy, and there was something vaguely blue and green in front of her…

Wait, was someone carrying her?

“You’re awake, Princess?”

The lack of any prana proved Vy’s voice was still not back in commission yet, and even opening her mouth seemed like a bad idea because a green-gloved hand was then reaching over to gently shush her with one pointer finger. “You pushed yourself too hard, Vy. What did Dr. Roman tell you about daily naps?”

Helps… Rejuvenate energy, Vy mustered with her mental voice.

Even without her glasses (did someone take them off?), it was obvious through the blurriness that Robin was smiling. “Good,” he said, lowering his hand to instead tug at the two mantles sitting atop Vy’s chest, and if not for the lack of prana, Vy felt tempted to squirm a little. When did the Servants get the chance to make a mantle burrito? “At least you remember that.”

Guilt dug into Vy’s heart before she found her voice again. I… missed my naptime, huh?

Nearby, Vy could vaguely hear Achilles start to whistle as a strand of blonde hair tickled her cheek. “You very much did, Princess,” Arturia said in a firm yet gentle voice, making herself known through the words and the steady hands holding Vy up underneath Vy’s shoulders and knees as they all continued to walk… well, wherever. “Rem was the one to alert us.”

Darn… I thought I could stay up a bit longer…

“Please don’t jinx it, little sparrow,” Robin Hood mused lightly, but Vy could sense the concern through their bond as his gloved hand proceeded to tuck Vy further into the blanket/mantle burrito of No Face May King and King Arthur’s cape. “The last thing we need is that red Archer having another aneurysm over you eating Saint Quartz instead of lunch just to keep grinding materials that are hard enough to find as is.”

It… saves Apples, eating Quartz, Vy thought, almost childishly too, as she rested her ear against Arturia’s shoulder. Got all the Embers at least. So Shirou shouldn’t complain… that much.

Vy didn’t even need her glasses to know all three of her Grailed Servant companions were rolling their eyes. “Doesn’t help,” Achilles quipped dryly for all of them. “You’re our Master and Princess, Vy. Start cherishing yourself better. Melted glass isn’t a good meal for anyone, even if it's magic and not going to give you a stomachache anytime soon.”

Muu.

Robin’s gloved hand was then there in her face, and Vy barely moved once a pointer finger was gently poking her forehead. “No cute noises of protest from you.”

Muu, Vy thought anyway.

Once Arturia was giving Vy a look past Robin’s hand, though, Vy amended it with a softer, Gonna try to do better. A second later, Vy turned her head to look up at the King of Knights and opened her mouth again. “Art… san?” left her throat in a weak kind of squeak, but in spite of the volume, it was enough to get the Saber’s attention since Arturia’s stern look had dropped for one of concern and fond wonder, green irises warm in Vy’s direction.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Where’s…” Vy coughed a little, shutting her eyes once her body finally decided to let all the fatigue from the day’s efforts come crashing down. Chị Rem? Still need to bake her another cake… bled through their mental connection instead.

Above her head, Vy could vaguely make out Robin and Achilles sharing some kind of look, but instead of an immediate reply, Arturia simply smiled, a chuckle rumbling through her chest armor as the hands on Vy’s figure shifted, lifting her up enough for a forehead to touch hers.

“You’re too kind for all of us, Princess,” Arturia whispered softly. “And your Chị Rem will be fine. Bake today or another day, I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.”

All Vy could do at that moment was smile back. “Aye,” finally left her mouth in her best attempt to reassure the Saber carrying her. Gonna do my best, she eventually thought to herself, holding onto the sentiments so that the other Servants wouldn’t get worried. Need to… make big sis happy.

It was another promise.

#short story #mastersona vy #rem #birthday gift #writing #passing days #fate grand order #based on real life experiences #long post #arturia pendragon #achilles #robin hood

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