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kasagia · 7 months

Text

The last time

Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here

When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.

The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.

Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.

Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.

His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.

"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.

"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...

"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."

You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.

"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.

Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.

I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better

"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.

"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.

"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.

"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"

You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.

He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.

And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?

"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.

"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."

"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."

Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.

"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."

"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."

"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.

"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.

Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.

Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.

And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me

You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.

"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.

"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.

"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."

The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."

"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.

"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.

"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."

"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"

"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...

"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.

"You can't be serious."

"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.

"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."

"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.

"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."

"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."

You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.

"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.

"I need your help."

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.

As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.

"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.

Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.

However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.

"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."

"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"

Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.

"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.

"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.

"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.

And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.

You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better

A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.

You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.

You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.

Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.

"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.

"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.

"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.

"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.

"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."

"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."

"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.

"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."

"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.

"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.

"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."

You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...

Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.

"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.

And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me

"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.

Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.

"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.

"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.

"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.

"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.

He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.

"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."

"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.

He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.

"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."

"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.

"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.

"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."

His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.

“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”

And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.

Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.

He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.

At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.

She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.

Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.

Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.

"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.

"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."

"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.

"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."

"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.

"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.

He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.

He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.

Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:

"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.

And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho

You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.

You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.

"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.

"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."

"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."

"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.

"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."

"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.

"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."

"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.

"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.

"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.

"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.

"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."

"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.

"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this

The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.

"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.

And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.

So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.

You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.

"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.

"Me too."

"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.

"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?

"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."

He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.

"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.

"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."

Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.

"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.

"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.

"How did you know?"

"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.

Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

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Got this idea right in time for Christmas 😭 imagine wrapping presents with Sevi and she’s IMSANELY bad at it. I think it would be adorable :3

HAHAHA this came at the perfect time because i've been wrapping gifts all week! (i'm the designated wrapper in my family lmaooo)

men and minors dni

sevika can't wrap for shit.

the sticky tape gets stuck on her fingers instead of the paper, the paper never folds right, and she never cuts a piece big enough for the gift shes trying to wrap.

until she meets you, she either uses giftbags for everything, or gives her presents unwrapped.

but once you guys are together, she hands off all wrapping duty to you.

all of her gifts, whether for her coworkers, family, or friends, she hands off to you to wrap for her.

she'll sit on the bed and watch you work, marveling at your skills and dexterous fingers.

she tries to help, she tries to hold little pieces of tape out for you, but she just ends up getting it wrapped around her fingers and cursing. you always laugh and kiss away her pout, push her against the pillows and tell her to relax.

(after you're done, sevika enthusiastically thanks you with her head between your legs.)

the only gifts she won't let you wrap are the gifts she gets for you.

these, she does herself.

on christmas night, when the two of you finally get home after making rounds around town to visit her family, yours, friends, and extended relatives, you get to do your favorite christmas tradition and trade your gifts for each other.

the gifts you have for sevika are, as always, perfectly wrapped.

but your gifts are always lumpy, wrapped in layer after layer of paper, and sticky with adhesive residue.

it always brings a tear to your eye, because she fucking sucks at wrapping and she hates it, but she does it horribly for you anyways.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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fala-alfredo-pasta · 2 months

Note

Going further with the Eren + Nagito comparison, what if Nagito has another "revelation" of sorts. Wondering to himself, was it ever truly hope that he yearned so much for? Or was it freedom? A sense of autonomy and control over his life. Not a life dictated by the whims of his luck cycle, by the diseases limiting his body, and of course by some bitch mind-raping him into a despair addiction.

And this extends to how he treats his luck cycle. Finally reaching the conclusion that no, it has never been a fair balance and it has always just been Ultimate Bad Luck. Deciding that the "good luck" is just a bullshit illusion to get his hopes up and then be crushed again. So he goes out of his way to spite the cycle. Passing over and deliberately sabotaging every single bit of "good luck" that comes his way from there on.

"Fuck off, I'm not falling for that shit anymore. Go ahead, toss me all the bad luck you want. See if I care."

It would probably feel weirdly uncomfortable for the rest of Class 77. Because like...yeah, he's finally shut up about hope and luck and all that. But it also feels kind of wrong. Like the world has turned upside down. And a number of them probably realize that they actually do miss that sense of irreverent optimism. Which in turn would likely make Nagito even more irritable and lash out at attempts to cheer him up.

"If I recall correctly, all the time you'd say stuff like 'I wish that moron would just shut the hell up about hope'. And yet...now you're upset that I've taken your advice? Make your damn mind up."

The idea of believing in hope "in a healthy way" sounds good on paper. But like...I think it would take a very long character arc to come around to that idea. As far as Nagito is concerned (and let's face it he's not exactly wrong here), hope or fate or whatever spited him from the moment he was born. It doesn't smile upon him the way it does people like Makoto.

"No. Fuck that. I'm never going back to that lie. Looking back now...I was a slave long before I ever had a chain around my neck. It doesn't matter that I'm gonna die a miserable death. Nothing's gonna change that. What matters is whether or not I die free."

This would be quite the intriguing concept to explore indeed though as you mentioned it would be a long work-in-progress for Nagito to open himself up again to believing in hope from this point.

Here's hoping that things don't end as tragically for him as they did Eren--though I suppose some argue that Eren did die "free" to an extent. Though really did he ever truly escape? I mean he died a Titan and there was really no way at all for him to be able to remotely have a normal happy life with how deeply involved he was with, well, everything. To that effect, at least Nagito in way has a shot of finding some sort of contentment in life. Yeah, he'll never be truly "free" from his luck the same as Eren will never be free of being a titan, but Nagito has time. As ironic as that may sound for someone with terminal illness, if there is a constant about Nagito's luck is that it does first and foremost ensure his survival (whether it's painful or not). Along with the fact that they really aren't any obligations or responsibilities he's tied (not in the way Eren had), Nagito is at least free to spend his recovery period well...recovering and allowing for introspection to happen. And, because of that, I do think at some point he'll be able to see some sort of reason to genuinely smile again and be happy despite his luck.

I don't think he necessarily needs to be hopeful for the future--because that could feel like you're setting yourself up for disappointment. Instead I think Nagito will do better simply allowing himself to find enjoyment and be happy in the present. He won't fool himself by claiming that everything in the future will be okay, but he won't let his bad luck continue to control him by sapping away all his happiness and making him an empty husk. After all, the freedom of feeling and expressing all the emotions he has, the good and the bad, isn't that really what he's striving for? I can't imagine a bigger "fuck you" to that chain of bad luck he was born with than living and enjoying life despite it.

He won't make plans but he'll enjoy the moments as they come.

#anonymous #danganronpa #komaeda nagito #a e i o queue

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hinatastinygiant · 2 months

Text

5 | Drizzle

Pairing: Kaminari x Fem!Reader

Null & Void

FLASHBACK ~ 2 MONTHS AGO

"You must be joking," Chizome laughs as you lean against the door of his cell with your arms crossed as you look at him.

"No," you narrow your eyes. "Why would I be joking about that? Look, this counselor's obviously new. She doesn't understand that I'm not going to fall for her bullshit."

"Y/N, listen to me," Chizome replies, his eyes burning into yours. "There is no getting out of this place. Not for any of us, no matter what they tell you. But if you can make 'em think you'll play along, they'll take you out of here."

"So what?" you furrow your brows. "How is that going to help me? I'll still be stuck on parole or whatever-"

"Aw, come on you know that's a load of shit," he rolls his eyes as he grabs his empty paper cup and pushes past you down the hallway. "Did you not just hear what I said?"

"You're starting to lose me," you answer as you try to catch up.

"Look," he stops, turning around to face you. "There's nothing either of us can do from in here. If you have the chance to get out and set yourself up so they feel secure enough to believe you're on their side, then that's what you should do. I don't care if it's some kind of undercover shit or whatever, it's worth a shot."

You think about what he's saying, chewing on your bottom lip as you do. Again, he starts walking and you do your best to keep up. He always moves so fast, as if he actually has somewhere he needs to be.

"So, if you were me," you finally reply, "you'd take the offer?"

"If it was given, yes. And then I'd play them. Play along. Do what you have to, but stay alive. You hear me, kid? I know I'm in here for life without a chance like yours but you," he nods, nudging you in the arm, "you can do something."

"What would I even do?" you whisper as you enter the cafeteria, your voices lost in the cacophony of chatter.

"You want to know what I'd do?" he smiles as he sits down.

"I'm listening," you answer.

"I'd make them think you're a good girl, that you've had a change of heart. They'll think they have your loyalty, then when they're not looking, you'll disappear. Go on the run and take that stupid so-called Prime Minister down."

"What? By myself? If I did that, I'd just end right up in here," you groan.

"Oh, come on, you know I wouldn't leave you hangin' like that, kid. I know a group of guys hiding in the fourth that'll help," he nods, looking at the guard nearby.

"You mean the fourth faction? How-"

"Just trust me, Y/N. It'll work," he whispers.

"But, Chizome," you sigh, "this is insane. How would I even find them? I don't know how to find anyone-"

"I'll tell you the address. Right now."

"But," you gulp, turning to see the guard standing right behind you. "They'll hear."

"Nah, that one's mine. He won't say a word," Chizome hums as the guard chuckles, looking away from the two of you.

"Chizome," you groan, feeling the urge to punch the man beside you in the face.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles. "I'll write it down instead. Memorize it, then swallow."

Honestly, at this point, his words don't phase you. Carefully, you watch as he writes the address down on the corner of a napkin, then quickly folds it into a small square.

"Swallow," he commands, holding the note out to you.

You roll your eyes but take the paper and walk off back to your cell to do ask he's asked.

∿*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣𐦍*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣∿

PRESENT

You stare up at your ceiling with a blank expression. There are a lot of things you'd rather be doing right now, but unfortunately, all of them are impossible. You let out a long sigh, wishing you could sleep. But your mind refuses.

Around noon, there's a knock on the door and you go to answer it. You figured that since Kendo's working in the shop, the middle of the day would be the best time for Camie to stop by. That way, Kendo wouldn't accidentally overhear anything and be put into the same situation you're in.

"Ready to talk?" she greets you as you open the door.

"Don't think I really have a choice," you reply as you step to the side and let her in.

"Yeah, guess not," she chuckles to herself.

After she takes off her shoes, you walk her to the small sitting area. You then sit quietly as she pulls out your file and has you sign a bunch of legal papers, basically signing over your soul to the Prime Minister.

"Alright," Camie nods as she closes the file, "Starting next week, you will be able to start your father's old job. You will be required to survey and monitor activist groups in the eighth on behalf of the Prime Minister. You will continue to stay in their ranks, but report back to us on a weekly basis."

"Got it," you mutter, knowing damn well you'll be doing no such thing.

"Any questions?"

"Not right now," you reply.

"Good," she grins sweetly. "But remember, if you get out of line, this home will be the next to go up in flames and you will be joining your little boyfriend in jail for life. Now, sign this one last paper."

Your eyes widen as she hands the pen to you. She's not fucking around, you realize. You're about to sign the final deal and you'll either spend the rest of your life in prison like Chizome or get killed by the Prime Minister.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek and repeating the location of the hideout of the activists from the fourth in your head, you pick up the pen one more time. Nervously, you sign your name. It's official now, this is when everything begins.

As you hand the pen and paper back to Camie, you finally realize what she had said previously about setting Kendo's home aflame. So before you can do anything, you're going to have to relocate her first. And that will mean explaining to her just what's going on.

"Well, that's all for today, Y/N," she smiles as she stands to her feet.

"But don't you have to like drug test me or something? I don't know, ask me about how I've been doing since I got out?" you sigh. "This seems a little quick."

"We'll get there," she answers, "but we're a little busy and we have our hands full at the moment. We'll schedule something for another time. Honestly, you shooting up isn't even one of my biggest concerns anyway."

As Camie sees herself to the door, you wish you could just bash her head against the wall instead of this bullshit. But you'd got Chizome and all of the others in the prison relying on you now, too. This is so much bigger than just you.

"Goodbye, Y/N," she says as she opens the door. "See you soon."

"Yeah, sure," you sigh.

And just like that, she leaves.

The second the door is shut, you rush to your room and pack your bag. You know Kendo might never have signed up for any of this, but now, there's no other choice. You've got a lot of work ahead of you.

And Kendo will not be happy.

Null & Void

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hedgewitchh · 3 months

Text

feeling like a boy and like having a weird attachment to that idea tonight but simultaneously wishing i was born a girl a little and that's. that's just so coherent baby. i'm so good at having feelings. grah. save me journaling. journaling save me

this is sort of new to me. maybe i should port this journaling shit over to a side blog actually. eh. whatever it doesn't matter if someone stumbles across this and doesn't wanna see it they can just keep scrolling tbh. but like,,, yeah. i'm sort of like that scene in Tangled when Rapunzel first leaves her tower and is wildly switching between "eee omgomg i'm finally out i'm gonna have so much fun :DDDD" and "AHHH i'm making a MISTAKE and i'm STUPID and i'm gonna DIEEEEE" about the prospect of transitioning currently.

i've always been quite the indecisive person so i'm used to this but when it's being applied to a big life choice like this instead of what flavor of tea to get at the store it becomes significantly more annoying. i guess the crux of it is i don't feel like a girl. i feel like a dude. a guy. a regular ole,,,, adult man. i've been trying to convince myself i am a woman because that seems kind of cooler than being a boy but uaghhh idk

my brain keeps shooting back with telling me that all of these behaviors and things i'm associating with being a girl can be done while a guy. which is,, true i guess but there's an appeal to embodying them as a gal that is hard to shake. i'm hoping with documenting my thoughts like this i can get a broader overview of how my thought trains tend to run instead of just pulling my conclusions from whatever i happen to remember in the moment (which often isn't much)

i keep thinking about going back to school and getting to be a girl there. meeting everyone as a girl. rooming with women, presenting as Lily full time. having that name on academic papers and performing as a woman on stage in female roles. having FRIENDS who know me as lily, who see me as a woman. and it feels. good. i get a giddy feeling in my torso about it. i really hope that i am a trans woman and that this is all right for me because i want to hold on to that feeling and make it real forever. even if things are scary and make me want to crawl into a hole and avoid them. even if being a man would be easier.

saying things like that is pretty indicative of how this will go i think. wanting it and being excited for it and finding joy in the prospect probably bode well for the outcome in these sorts of matters. or at least i hope so. i've never been a wonderful judge of my own character,,, but there's a first time for everything too! gonna do my best to stay positive and find things to get excited about. maybe it's less genuine if i have to actively work to make myself happy about this but like ldsfjslslfkjsl i'm gonna do it anyway so i might as well try my damnedest yk. weed does good for chilling the nerves but i think i need anxiety meds cuz i can't be stoned 24/7 that wouldn't be great LMAO

#lilys journal #idk how often i'm gonna post entries.... ig i'll just post as i feel the need to do so #if i structure it too much it'll probably feel stifling #so i'll keep it loosey goosey girl #hrt consultation is feb 13!! so close!!!!

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wheresgamora · 2 years

Note

That crush fic rotted my teeth plz can you write a Andrew!Peter fic where they have to do a final project together and end up together

I absolutely adore your work!

WTFFFFF I JUST SPENT LIKE 50 MINS WRITING THIS AND IT FUCKING LAGGED AND LOST EVERYTHING

ANYWAYS SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR LIKE A WEEK BUT MY PETER PHASE IS BACK SINCE MY FYP WON'T STOP SHOWING ME EDITS

warnings: strong language, both peter and reader trying not to hide forever lmao-- really long too

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

y/n sat in class, staring at the clock, almost begging it to get to 3 already. it was the last week at school and everyday just got slower than the other.

her pleading eyes got wide once she heard her name being called, she looked up at her teacher, trying not to smack her and telling her off for just talking to her.

she wasn't one to like school, nobody did. but she wasn't one of those people who say it just cause their friends aren't here for like one day. she always wondered how people could smile when they were in this teenage prison

"you will be partnered with peter."

oh, that's how.

"you both have two days to finish this project. oh and here's a tip, maybe don't spend them staring at the clock, l/n."

you and your horrible nose job can kiss my ass, susan.

she and peter weren't super close, but were sort of connected. they shared the same interests, the same humor, the same hatred for school, they definitely got each other but never really did anything about it.

everyone just assumed they were dating because of how much they matched but were shocked when that wasn't the case.

after class ended, the girl groaned and put her head on the table. its funny how there's a few days left for school yet somehow a day gets added everytime.

"i'm convinced school was used as a torture chamber somehow." someone said, they were putting their head on the table and groaning just like her. and of course, it was none other than peter.

"i know, right? how do people put up with this i'm so close to just crawl into a hole and stay there forever"

"i swear time stops when were here"

"it's like you're reading my mind"

"no no, it's like you're reading mine. that's the first time nobody said i was exaggerating"

"no way me too"

the two chuckled but stopped once their teacher went back to get her stuff

"quit messing around and get to work, i'm not excusing any of you. leave, now."

they both left and their expressions from the beginning of class came back.

"how do principals handle teachers with all their complaints and shit, all i want to do is kick them off the property or get a restraining order" peter said

"i'd be a principal just to have the pleasure of firing teachers but i would never come back here again, even for my kids. instead of them making me drop them off away from the school i'll be the one doing that." y/n said and peter chuckled

"alright let's see here, oh my god are you kidding me we have to make a presentation, a board" before they could continue reading they both groaned, y/n's eyes widened once she saw a whole other page of requirements, "we each need to write an essay, prepare for practice questions from this other paper that is holy shit- 15 pages long"

peter just looked at it in shock while y/n was too busy trying to convince herself not to run away forever

"alright- you know what- we can do this, it's just one more project then you get like a 3 month break, we can do it, right?" peter said

"yeah yeah, right we can do this"

"nope, we can't do this."

"wait--yes we can cause we just finished the presentation!!" y/n shouted out and peter cheered on, hugging her in the process

"okay so, just glue it on there- no no- see now you put it below the text we want them to see the picture first so they can be like 'oh wonder what this is about' yknow?" y/n said

"oh yeah yeah right- cause if i see a text first i'm gonna be like pass"

"how's your side doing?" peter asked from the other side of the cardboard

"finishing touches"

"oh-- yeah so um i think i messed mine up?"

"what?? let me see" y/n said, walking over to the other side and gasping when she saw nothing, literally nothing

"what have you been doing all this time-"

"i got distracted i'm sorry! help me please"

"was it just me or was school extra long today" y/n asked

"no, it was awful and way too long yes"

"did you write your essay yet?"

"..."

"peter!"

"we can do mine together!"

"i haven't even finished mine!"

"yes you did you told me about it in the morning when i asked why you had dark circles under your eyes and you said you stayed up late"

"damn it"

"andddd, there- essay is done! but i'm gonna kill you if you do this again"

"yep sorry again"

"it's fine"

"so..."

"..."

"15 minute ramen and netflix break?"

"we totally deserve it let's go"

an hour later

"peter!"

"what?! are you okay?!"

"..."

"OUR 15 MINUTE RAMEN AND NETFLIX BREAK" -both

"no- oh my god peter you're supposed to answer the questions not ask me to explain!"

"i didn't study the definitions!"

"...what."

"uh"

*sigh*

"i'm not even that surprised anymore just come over here" y/n said grabbing the definitions paper

"you took so long on the last one you need to revise it later, okay?"

"sure"

"alright let's see here...peter."

"what?"

"oh my god."

"what?!"

"peter oh my god"

"WHAT!"

"IT'S OVER"

"WHAT?"

"THE PAIN IS OVER THE QUESTIONS ARE DONE!"

"OH MY GOD!" he said, picking her up and twirling her around as they hugged

"i can't believe it, can you?!"

"no, i can't" he said, when y/n looked at him, he was saying it in a happy tone but he looked the entire opposite.

"pete, what's wrong?" she asked

"what? oh uh nothing"

"no really, peter. tell me what's up?"

"uh- no no it's just"

"just what?"

"i just can't believe it's over. now were gonna present it tommorow and then you're gonna go home and forget about me again."

"what? no- of course not! you don't even know how happy i was when the teacher picked you, you're like-the only person i'd ever want to hang out with and--i would never want to end that, yknow?"

"but it's not just that. it's that you think of me more as a friend than i do to you. i don't just like you as a friend, y/n. i just- i've been feeling this way for so long now and all i want to do is just be with you. i don't even care that you would rather stay home, i'd stay home with you too. i just don't want to go back to what it was where we only talked when we were forced to, or when you just think of me as your friend."

"peter-"

"and i know that this might freak you out-"

"peter-"

"i just can't be without you and i needed to tell you cause i just-" before peter could continue his rambling y/n pulled him in for a kiss.

once they pulled away all peter could do was smile

"i feel the same way, pete."

"you do?"

she nodded and smiled

"can i tell you a secret?"

"what"

"i did everything i told you i didn't. the definitions, the essay- it was all just so i could hang out with you more"

"really?"

"yeah- well except for the board thing that wasn't planned i was actually distracted but it was by you."

"aw, that's so cheesy and i wanna be mad at you for wasting my time but i just wanna kiss you"

"yeah how about we just do the last thing"

"sounds about right"

a/n: just telling yall i have 0 ideas so um help please.

taglist: @poisxnedmind

if you wanna be part of my taglist click here

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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#tom holland #red fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagines #tom holland angst #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland writing #tom holland reader #peter parker

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

Text

Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name? If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said. And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

#joaquin torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquín torres #lieutenant torres #lieutenant torres x reader #fatws #tfatws

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cherryonigiri · 3 years

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nanami kento [evenings with you]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 (𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟖𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @vocalyunho

✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿

The girl's eyes peered with great attention onto the map in front of her. Making sure it was the correct hallway, she proceeded to make her way down the small staircase. Being so attentive towards the schedule and diagram given to her, not to mention carrying her binder and some of her journals, she nearly tripped on the last couple of stairs but luckily regained her balance before any disaster happened. Faced with a wall full of lockers, she made a right turn and carefully looked for the number written on her paper. Her locker was one of the last ones, which she didn't mind. A door at the end of the lockers was half open, letting her have a peak inside what she assumed to be the training room for the boxing club, given the huge punching bag that was hanging and all sorts of other equipment that she would never guess what they were for.

Squinting her eyes, she began to put in her combination, safely maneuvering the lock and getting her locker to open. With a soft grunt, she tossed her heavy book bag into the compartment, her shoulder aching after having carried so many things at once. She began organizing things so loudly in there she didn't notice the tall, lean figure that approached the punching bag, one of his hands finishing the task of wrapping the safety bandages on the other. His black hair was already sticking to his forehead after having run some laps outside in the track field, his usual warm up before heading inside. Making sure the bandages were tightly secured, he held his fists up before landing a couple of punches onto the bag, stopping momentarily before resuming to strike at it with as much force as he could. Through pants and grunts, he continued his punches, teeth clenched and eyes completely focused, his body beginning to perspire even more sweat, leaving his shirt nearly soaked through.

Gasping for air, he decided to take a break, body hunched over as he rested his hands on his knees, slowly getting his heart rate back to normal. Getting an unusual feeling, he suddenly lifted his head and tilted it to the left. He was both surprised and intrigued to see a girl he'd never seen before gaze at him, her eyes wide open and lips slightly agape, fascination clearly visible on her features. Having been caught eyeing him, she quickly hid her face behind the open locker door, her cheeks immediately reddening and her hands fumbling to quickly take out what she needed and just dash out of there to avoid any further embarrassment. The young athlete chuckled softly, smile still plastered on his face as he began walking out of her room and up to where she was.

"I take it you're new in the school right?"

Startled by his close proximity and tall height, she dropped all of the things she was currently holding, muttering out a slight curse as she began bending down to pick them up.

"Here. Let me help."

Pulling her back up, the male speedily gathered her things and held them back out to her.

"Thank you..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You never answered my question." He gently reminded her.

"Oh...yeah I just transferred here." She responded, hand reaching up to brush some fallen hair behind her ear.

"Thought so, in my years here I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a cute little face like yours."

His compliment followed along by his large hand booping the bun on the top of her head only worked to make her feel more shy about standing in front of such a handsome guy.

"I'm Yunho." He held out his wrapped hand out to her, which she gratefully shook.

"I'm Y/N."

He looked at her with a fond smile upon hearing her name.

"Well Y/N, if you ever get lost or need something, please let me know. I'd be happy to help."

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and bumped his nose against hers, making her slightly crinkle her own after he pulled back.

"I like you. Let's be friends."

✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿

"Look! Yunho! I see the beach already!"

Yunho only took a small glance over at his friend, who had of course taken off her seatbelt in order to stand up and get a better view of the blue ocean that was now drawing closer and closer to them. Without taking his eyes off the road, he grabbed one of her belt loops and firmly sat her back down, not about to risk an accident happening.

"Y/N just because this car is convertible, doesn't mean you can just go wilding about and standing up. You could get hurt."

Poking her bottom lip out with crossed arms, the girl pushed the seat further back so she could rest her feet up on the dashboard. Still hyped up about their trip to California and unable to contain her excitement, Y/N moved one of her legs so it could nudge Yunho's arm. He merely rolled his eyes at her, so used to her mischievous yet rather adorable antics. He couldn't suppress the smile on his face when she kept bumping her knee up against his elbow or tapping her foot against one of the hands that was gripping the steering wheel. During one particular move of her leg, he got his hand off the wheel and grabbed her thigh, squeezing at it softly and keeping it within his reach.

"Do you have a death wish?" He questioned her.

"No..... I'm just too excited and I can't wait to see the rest of the gang." She bounced against the seat.

Releasing a light chuckle, Yunho used his thumb to rub circles against her exposed knee, tugging at the ripped fabric coming out.

"Seriously, couldn't you pick another pair of jeans?" He shook his head.

"What's wrong with them?" She exclaimed in offense.

"They're practically ripping from how skin tight they are. Honestly, did you just paint them on? Guys will stare at your ass." He involuntarily gripped her thigh a little tighter when he pictured some pervert eyeing his best friend up and down.

"Maybe that was the whole plan along."

Her little snort only made him smack her thigh rather abruptly, earning her a glare from him as well, which only served to make her burst into giggles.

"Hit me harder daddy." She teased him, sitting up to rest her head on his shoulders as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh my fuck- I can't with you! You know I hate that word!" He cringed in disgust at the unholy word, lightly shoving her head off him, opting to instead turn up the volume of the music to hopefully calm his energetic friend down a bit.

Pulling into the parking lot, Y/N wasted no time in jumping out of the car and sprinting out towards the small crowd that was already gathered near the shoreline, a small bonfire already being started while the sun was still out. Finally catching sight of the last pair to get there, some of their friends waved them over.

"Hey guys! They're here! Yunho and Y/N are here!" A bright pink haired male who was donning a crop top began jumping up and down in excitement at the whole crew being gathered.

Meanwhile the jet black hair male next to him was not amused by his screeching.

"Ok ok geez, we get it." He held San down.

"Yeosang stop being a drag and let loose for once. We're on vacation, no more mean professors. No late night studying, no more presentations. Tonight we're just a bunch of adults who are going to get shit faced wasted and party all night long!" His friend let out a piercing holler.

"Ok but I'm not carrying your drunk ass back to the room then Woo." Yeosang warned him.

"Mingi!"

Y/N immediately ran up to her friend who was just as tall as Yunho. She was so happy to finally see him after so long, none of them having been able to see much of him since he had gone away on a transfer college program and had been living abroad for a while now. She clung onto him tightly.

"I missed you two munchkin." Mingi bent his face to kiss the top of her head before ruffling her hair into a tangled mess like he'd usually do.

"I'm not going to punch you for that only because I missed your clumsy ass too much." She squinted her eyes at him, but immediately went back to her happy self and began asking him so many questions about what he had done.

Yunho went over to see if anyone needed help, always stepping up to set up anything they needed. He had decided to help out his older friend, Seonghwa, bring out the coolers full of beer and other alcoholic beverages while another one, Hongjoong, began making a playlist on his phone which would soon blast all over the bluetooth speakers.

"How was the ride here?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, who could only let out an exhausted sigh.

"That crazy huh?" Hongjoong chuckled, looking over at Y/N who was practically hanging onto Mingi's arm like a koala, while San and Wooyoung were arguing about not being giving the same amount of hugs.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's already having fun, but even I think she's a little too much for me nowadays. I can barely keep up with her energy sometimes." Yunho admitted, although he found it ironic how ever since the years passed, it had seemed as if though his once bubbly and energetic nature switch somewhat with Y/N's more calm and mellow personality.

"Well I mean, don't worry about babysitting her tonight. Just drink some beer and go wild like we used to back in high school."

Popping off the cap, Seonghwa handed the bottle over to Yunho who immediately took a small sip of it.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to have to stay sober and make sure she doesn't do anything too crazy."

Smirking, Hongjoong came up to him as he pulled something out of his pants.

"I thought you'd say that which is why I took the liberty of placing you two in the same motel room. Now you don't have to worry about rooming with tweedle dumb or tweedle idiot there." He nodded over to Wooyoung and San.

Yunho looked down at the room key with bewilderment.

"Oh Hong- why would you? Listen she's my best friend, but to share a room with her-"

"Is the best idea if you ask me. Seriously Yunho, we're here about to get fucked as hell. Maybe this is the chance for something between you two to finally happen. If you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made Yunho blush wildly.

"Nothing will happen. She only sees me as a friend." He tried to convince himself more than anyone else.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong looked at him and then at each other, both of them with a dead panned expression.

"Oh honey you are so lost." Seonghwa stated, letting out some very audible tsks.

"Jongho! Come here! We need an opinion from a level headed person." Hongjoong waved over a muscular red head over, who came over with arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" He looked unamused.

"On a scale of 1-10, how much would you say Yunho and Y/N want to fuck each other?"

Yunho covered Hongjoong's mouth at that.

"Hyung! What the fuck?!" He looked around to make sure Y/N didn't hear anything.

Shrugging, Jongho slid his hands into his pant's pockets.

"I don't really pay attention to hetero shit, but I'd say solid 12 if I'm being honest." Satisfying their curiosity, he went back towards Yeosang, who was already downing down another bottle and laughing a lot more than he'd usually do, which prompted his partner to take the bottle away from him, which Yeosang did not appreciate and began grumbling in a not so threatening manner.

Yunho looked over at his friend, talking so casually with the other girls, all of them showing off pictures of clothes or their pets no doubt. He began to think that maybe Hongjoong and Seonghwa were right. Perhaps this could be the night where something would spark between them.

He just had to wait and see.

✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿

Loud cheers and hollers were being poured out at the two females who were currently tongue deep inside each other's throats due to the dare they were given.

"3, 2, 1! Ok. 40 seconds is up."

The more dominant of the girls got off the other's lap, a smug look on her face while the other looked completely dazed as she tried to regain her composure.

"Dang Sua, you didn't need to go that intense. Poor Yoohyeon." Wooyoung shook a finger at her.

"I know for a fact you enjoyed that little show just as much as she did." She glanced in between his legs, eyeing the very visible boner that had formed there before brushing some hair out of Yoohyeon's face.

"Ok it's not my turn but I've really been wondering long and hard about something! Seungyeon! Is it true you got your nipples pierced last month?" San suddenly blurted out, words slightly slurring as all eyes looked over at the bronzed beauty who had a wicked grin on her face.

"I did." She confirmed the rumor.

"No way! You have low pain tolerance! I don't believe you!" He interjected.

Putting her drink down, she sauntered over to him, hands on her hips as she stood in front of him. Grabbing the end of her shirt, she lifted it up and let her well endowed tits pop out. San nearly choked as he stared at the metal bars piercing through her nipples.

"Hot damn. I love being Bi." He licked his lips.

With a giggle, Seungyeon gave her tits a little shake before covering them up again.

"Ok now that I blessed you with my chest, now you have to do something for me."

Always up for a challenge, San immediately agreed.

"What is it? Come on throw it at me. Who's dick or pussy am I sucking?" His question had everyone laughing.

"No, don't get ahead of yourself fuck boi. I dare you to strip and jump into the cold water." She smirked, really convinced he'd never do it.

But to everyone's shock, horror and amusement, San didn't waste a second before standing up and ridding himself of all his clothes, leaving some of his friends wide eyed while others were getting more turned on by the ever escalating game of truth or dare.

"You know if you wanted an excuse to just see my dick, all you had to do was ask."

With a wink towards the tanned female, San ran into the water and let his entire body submerge underneath the waves. Meanwhile the rest of the party got off their seats to witness or record the entire thing. Coming out of the water, San swiped his hair back before calling out to them.

"I bet none of you have the guts to do the same!" He challenged them.

"Bet!" Wooyoung responded before practically ripping his shirt off.

With a shrug, Seungyeon completely took off her top.

"You have all seen my tits already. What the heck?"

Soon a few more of them joined San in the water, while the others either stood there contemplating if they should do something or just let them be.

"I knew it. I knew this would eventually turn into one of those college parties that ends in an orgy- NOT THAT I'VE EVER SEEN THEM!" Mingi immediately shouted, but everyone around him just looked at him with absolutely no surprise or judgment.

"I wanna join!"

Yunho watched in horror as Y/N took off her shirt and threw it at him. Before she could even reach for her bra clasp, he took off his jacket and covered her, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

"No you don't. We're going to our room and you're going straight to bed." He firmly said, ignoring the suggestive glances the others were giving him.

"Put me down Yunho! Put me down!" She wiggled in his grasp, trying to break free but in her tipsy state she couldn't really do much.

"Bye Y/N! Sorry you didn't get to show us your boobs! I bet they're great!" Yeosang waved at them, completely drunk with Jongho holding him up so he wouldn't fall.

Y/N eventually gave up and just let Yunho carry her across the motel parking lot, his car already having been moved over so it'd be easier for them to get their stuff. Not fully coherent and with still leftover energy, she began tapping on his back.

"Truth or dare."

"Y/N, I'm pretty sure the game already ended." He told her as he took out his key to lock and put the alarm on his car.

"But you didn't pick anything besides truth you boring old sack! Now pick dare! I wanna dare you to do something!" She insisted.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" He wanted to satisfy her whims for a moment.

"Dare you to slam me on the hood of the car and make out with me."

Yunho wasn't sure if she was being serious or was playing around like she usually did, but her sentence made him freeze up.

"I knew it. I knew you didn't have the balls to do it." She snickered at him.

Finally deciding to snap, Yunho tore his jacket off her body before hauling her down and slamming her onto the hood of his car, not to hard so she wouldn't get hurt. With a dark look in his eyes, he smirked down at her.

"Bet."

Before she had time to respond or comprehend what was going on, Y/N was already melting into the kiss her long time friend was giving her. She didn't hesitate to allow his tongue to slither in her mouth. Y/N moaned as Yunho continued to massage his tongue against hers, rolling them over each other before sucking down on it. His hands which had been holding her arms over her head let go of them so they could snake down her torso before gripping her hips. Prying her legs open with his knee, Yunho pressed himself in between them, his growing bulge grinding against her jean clad core. Y/N could feel her underwear stick to her folds from how aroused she was becoming. Having nothing to lose, she wrapped her legs around Yunho's waist, squeezing him closer as she grinded harder against him, practically dry humping him.

"Fuck! You're driving me insane."

Wanting to get her as frustrated as him, he trailed wet and sloppy kisses down her sternum, licking on the top of her cleavage, while his fingers pushed underneath her bra cups so they could rub her nipples in between them.

"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasped out, her hands going to the back of his head, fingers harshly tugging at the strands of his hair as she pressed her chest out more forward him.

"Please suck my tits."

Yunho let out a brief awkward laugh at her request before pulling himself off her, which resulted in her writhing in an annoyed manner.

"That wasn't part of the dare Y/N and I'm not doing such a lewd action out in public."

He did not let her glare deter him from patting the top of her head softly. Turning his back to her, he made way towards their hotel room calling out to her so she could follow him. When he didn't hear nor sense her following behind him, he quickly turned around and saw that instead she was walking towards the pool.

"Y/N I'm not going to tell you again. Get in the room right now and- No! Y/N no!"

He chased after her as if she was a misbehaving cat, internally cursing himself as he saw her entering the pool area. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her peel off her tight skinny jeans before diving into the pool, some of the water splashing onto him.

"Holy hell, please give me the strength to deal with her." He muttered to himself as he picked up her discarded clothing.

He just stood there both admiring and just guarding her as she freely swam around without a care in the world. Emerging from underwater, she swam up to where Yunho was and propped her elbows on the concrete.

"Join me Yuyu." She made it a point to use the nickname he favored and to glance at him with puppy dog eyes.

"No. It's late and you have gone wild enough for one night. Now come on, out you go now."

Extending his hand out, he ordered her to take it so he could pull her out of there. Having other thoughts in mind, Y/N acted as if she was giving in. As soon as she took his hand, she took advantage of his unguarded state to strongly pull him down into the water with her. Yunho came back out of the water with a shocked expression.

"Have you completely lost your mind?!" He shouted at her, wiping some of the dripping water off his face.

"Maybe. I don't know."

With absolutely no remorse, she pushed him towards the pool steps, making him sit down on one of them before straddling his lap. Not giving him a chance to ask, Y/N just cupped his cheeks and began to fervently kiss him, not lingering long on his lips as she preferred to attack his neck, biting and sucking at various points in an effort to leave purple and red spots all over his milky skin. Yunho's hands cupped her hips in a futile attempt to hold her still but ultimately failing as they seemed to have a mind of their own and wandered further down to cup her ass. Kneading at her cheeks, Yunho bucked his hips up at hers, head tilting to the side to allow her to nibble away as she pleased at his skin.

"Just what exactly do you want with all this?" Yunho finally asked.

Humming against his skin, she placed a sweet peck on the recent mark she made.

"I want you to suck my boobs." She repeated her words from before.

Taking his hands off her ass, she placed them on her chest, making them massage them as she liked them to be.

"That's it? You go through all this just to get your boobs sucked?" Yunho found it ridiculous yet cute.

Shaking her head, Y/N began bouncing on his lap.

"No I want you to fuck me." She blurted out.

Yunho immediately retracted her hands off her body, eyes not even blinking as he began processing what she just said. Gulping down an imaginary lump, he took a deep breath and gathered his strength and self control.

"Y/N, baby. You're probably too wasted to think straight. You don't know what you're saying. So let's just go back to the room and go to sleep. Don't want you regretting anything in the morning."

Even though he said it to her, he mostly meant it for himself. He didn't want to ruin anything they had already built up over the years just because of some stupid decision. Y/N however clung onto him when he attempted to let her go.

"I'm not wasted trust me. I'm in full use of my 5 senses and I mean it when I say I want you to fuck me Jeong Yunho."

Trying to seduce him one last time, she began to nibble at his earlobe, knowing he was sensitive around that area. Wanting to rile him up, she whispered in his ear.

"If not then that's ok..... I'm sure Seonghwa or Hongjoong won't mind me joining them for a night."

Instantly, she was lifted up by his strong arms and carried away towards their room.

"You're not spending the night with anyone but me."

Yunho nearly broke the door down from how hard he opened it, using his foot to slam it close behind them. Setting his friend down on the bed, he began to rid himself of his soaked clothes, letting them pile up into a short wet stack on the floor. Y/N bit down at her bottom lip as she took in the size of Yunho's cock. It was well above average and the thickness had her mouth watering. When Yunho came over to her, she tried to reach out and stroke it, but he quickly grabbed her wrist and stopped her from getting closer. Pushing her further on the bed until her head hit the headboard, Yunho reached under her back so he could unclasp her bra and free her boobs from their confinement.

"Are you really going to fuck me? Fuck me like one of your exes? I heard a few naughty and interesting rumors." She let out a soft giggle.

With darkening eyes, Yunho used one of his hands to wrap itself her neck, tightening around it so as to cut off her breathing for a brief moment.

"First of all, don't mention any of those skanks right now."

Releasing her neck, he peeled her panties off her legs and threw them across the room, ignoring where it landed. Taking both of her hands in his, he pressed his forehead against hers, his lips tenderly brushing against her own.

"And second of all, I'm not going to fuck you...."

Giving her a loving peck, he smiled at her.

"I'm going to make love to you."

Unlike his previous hungry kiss, this time his kisses were more soft and drawn out, as if he wanted to take his time in savoring each and every time his lips enveloped hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. Every once in a while, he'd tug at her bottom lip with his teeth in a playful way. Once he got her fill of tasting her mouth, his lips traveled down her chest, finally giving her what she'd ask for since the beginning. Looking up towards her, he took hold of one of her delectable breasts and brought his mouth close to it, tongue circling around the sensitive nipple before it disappeared inside his mouth. Yunho couldn't hide the proud smirk on his face whenever he felt Y/N squirm underneath him, back arching everytime he gave her tits a particularly long and hard suck. Pressing them together, he squeezed them into his large hands before taking both of her nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing over them. Taking notice of her change in breathing, Yunho couldn't resist himself in teasing her a little.

"Finally satisfied that you got what you wanted? You got your tits sucked, should I stop now?"

When he began moving away from her, Y/N pulled him back to land on top of her.

"No! You said you were going to make love to me." She whined at him, lips pouting out.

Pecking her pouty lips, Yunho began crawling down her body.

"I did say that and I'm following through on it."

Pulling her body close to his face, he ran his nose against her slippery folds. Parting her lips with 2 of his fingers, he delved his tongue into her hole, collecting some of her arousal and lapping it up with such ardent intensity. His face was practically smothering itself into her heat, her juices staining not only his nose but even his chin. But Yunho couldn't help himself as he continued to feast on her taste, his tongue flicking out against her clit before sucking more of her juices out of her. He loved having her roll her hips against his face, her eyes shut tight as she let herself get lost in the addicting feeling of having his mouth swallow her mound and folds. It boosted his confidence when he heard her moans get louder and her the rising of her chest become more agitated. By the way her thighs began to clench around his head, he knew she was going to cum any second. Before that could happen, he released her delicious clit from his mouth with a loud popping sound and climbed back on top of her body.

Before she could complain about him leaving her hanging, he began to pump himself slowly, the tip of his dick running across her folds. Looking at her one last time, he asked her one more time if she was ok with it. Instead of answering, she replaced his hand with her own, getting a low hiss to spill out from his lips as she began to stroke his length. Thumb playing with his slit, her mouth was occupied in kissing all over the marks she had previously made on his neck. Not wanting to waste any more time, she lined him up at her entrance and pushed him inside enough to get the tip in.

"Go ahead Yuyu." She encouraged him, her hands steadying themselves on his arms for support.

Slowly easing the rest of himself inch by inch in her, Yunho gave them both a few seconds to get adjusted before he began to expertly roll his hips. It was a slow and steady pace, but he made sure to hit deep enough for both of them to start moaning against their lips, which were never more than a few inches apart from each other. Yunho never took his eyes off her face, drinking up every single one of her facial expressions. He moved her hands off his arms so he could hold them in his own, their fingers intertwining with one another. He began to pick up his pace, hips slamming further onto her body. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Yunho captured her lips one more time in a desperate kiss. He only pulled away so she could hear what he had to say.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you back in high school, I've yearned to make you mine."

Y/N gasped when he sunk his teeth into her neck, his hands pressing her hard against the mattress as his thrusts became more forceful, ripping out whimper after whimper out of her throat.

"I tried to find someone else....hoping I'd get over you....but none compared to you. I've only ever wanted you."

Y/N was left completely speechless at his words, never imagining he'd actually feel the same way she felt about him. She could see the longing in his eyes and she had no doubts that her own were probably mirroring his feelings at that moment as well. Caressing his face, she found it difficult to get out any coherent words due to Yunho ramming his cock inside her, but eventually she found her voice.

"I love you Yunho."

His hips momentarily stopped when he heard those 4 words, his mind trying to decipher if it was real or another one of his fantasies. Knowing he was doubting what he heard, she repeated herself.

"I love you Yunho."

Lifting her up, Yunho sat her on top of him, his arms holding her so close to him, he could practically smother her.

"Say that again." He begged her.

Y/N began crying out when he began lifting her up and sinking her back down onto his cock, his hips relentlessly bucking up into her. His fingers were gripping onto the sides of her waist so hard they would probably leave prints for days to come. Her nails raked along his back, leaving scratch marks plastered on the top.

"I love you! I love you!" She began chanting loudly through chattering teeth and shaky breathing.

Yunho felt himself go feral at hearing her repeat her words, wanting to hear her say it for so many years.

"Fuck I love you too my darling."

When he shifted angles underneath her slightly, he brushed against her g-spot, making Y/N's whimpers turn even louder and her walls clenched tighter around him.

"Right there love? Does it feel good right there?" He cooed in her ear, fingers brushing against the bulge protruding out of her stomach.

Through tear brimmed eyes, Y/N frantically nodded.

"Yes! Right there feels good. Please keep going, I'm going to cum." She begged him, her nails digging sharply into his skin.

Yunho continued to stroke his hips up, watching intently as Y/N shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth. Holding onto her tightly, he witnessed as she began sputtering incoherent words while her body shook uncontrollably on top of him, her orgasm washing over her and coating Yunho's cock which was still sliding in and out of her. It was such a beautiful scene, seeing her dissolve into immense pleasure that he didn't fall far behind as he began pumping all of his cum into her, shooting a heavy load that some began to spill onto his thighs as he continued to bounce her on top of him, helping them both ride out their highs.

They were so exhausted they ended up collapsing on the bed, their breathing raspy and hoarse. Reaching his hand out, Yunho pulled her body back up against his, wanting to stay as close to her as possible. Brushing some of her hair out of her face, he wiped off some of the smudged eyeliner and mascara that had become messy.

"I look ugly don't I?" She questioned him.

"You're always gorgeous to me, although if you want my honest opinion, I think you're prettier without any makeup on." He nuzzled his nose against hers.

Snuggling close to him, Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling in his scent while her ears listened intently to the beating of his heart. Their fingers began to play with one another, bumping against each other or just clasping and unclasping back and forth.

"So does this make us....?" She looked up at him.

"I mean, I would hope so. I was literally balls deep inside you while I declared my love for you. I would expect us to be official at this rate."

They both laughed softly at his answer.

"We should have been honest with each other a long time ago." She lamented not saying anything before.

"I'll say, I could have been making love to you a long time ago."

Y/N squealed when Yunho flipped her over, making her lie face down while pushing her legs apart.

"Y-Yunho! Already?" She couldn't stop blushing as she felt his dick poking at her ass.

"What can I say beautiful? You rile me up as if I was a teenager again." He had absolutely no shame as he began pushing inside her once again.

"But what if they hear us?" She pointed to the walls, knowing fully well her friends were probably already back in their rooms by now.

Yunho didn't seem to care as he fully shoved himself inside her folds and pressed open mouth kisses on the nape of her neck.

"Well then I hope they brought ear plugs."

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386 notes · View notes

severelytalentless · 3 years

Text

History Part 1

Jealous!Gojo x F!Reader x BadBoy!Getou

I got tangled up with this yarn ball of a love triangle for a hot second. It's long and a little angsty, I'm not completely sure I like it.

But here it is. Hope it hits well.

18+ content: sexual scenarios & strong language, exhibitionism, dubcon, public fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, angst

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(don't leave - (throttle remix) snakehips x MO)

"Oh shit, I'm so late.."

The sound of your alarm clock melded with your dream and failed to wake you up. Instant panic jolts through you when you see the time, you rush to fling yourself out of bed.

“FUCK!”

You yelp as a strong arm wraps around your waist, yanking you back. You collapse on top of him and proceed to smack and pry at his forearm to let you go. His mischievous giggle under the covers only makes you more frustrated.

“I swear to God! Satoru! Let me go, I am so late!”

He squeezes harder and begins dragging you under.

“Late for what? Makin’ me breakfast in bed? Oh bunny, you're so thoughtful!”

You try to hide your giggle with an aggravated groan and an elbow thrown somewhere near his ribs.

“You're such a shit! I'm serious let me go, NOW!”

You don't have time for this. It's like he's been on a mission to make you late in one way or another to every class these days. Trapping you in bed all morning, kidnapping you for lunch, holding you hostage between classes, keeping you up way too late for extracurricular activities. You really can't complain, you have so much fun with him, but your grades are starting to catch up with you.

He'll try to convince you it's no big deal; that slacking off is what seniors are meant to do. But it's all gotten really stressful. Especially the History test you've spent zero time studying for. It's all fun and games until you have to answer for late assignments and failing marks.

You tumble off the bed as he groans in dramatic agony and releases you. You flail around the room collecting your things and dressing all at once.

“You're no fun..who needs History anyway? The past is boring, you should be living in the present..with me..in this bed..” you roll your eyes at his wiggling brows and his attempt at a sexy pose. In all honesty, it's not a bad attempt. His messy bed head and half-covered naked body are very easy on the eyes. But damn it, if you miss one more class because of this handsome fucker, your GPA is completely screwed.

“Toru, I have to go to class...where are my glasses?”

You button your shirt and pull your hair into the best bun you can. He sighs and points to your dresser. You snatch them and run for the door, hopping as you pull your shoes on.

“Call me when you're done being teacher's pet.” You shake your head and squint at him as he winks and blows you a kiss. You rush out the door leaving him to flop down on your bed alone. He frowns at the ceiling.

Why do you have to be so perfect and responsible? Why do you have to take such early classes? Why can't he have you all to himself? And when the hell did he get so tightly wrapped around your finger like this?

Something changed at the party. After he saw the effect Suguru had on you. He's felt this need to keep you closer. To somehow win you over. If he just stays present in your life. Maybe you'll want to stay a little longer. Maybe you won't choose him instead...

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(you get me so high - the neighbourhood)

The bell rings as you're halfway up the stairs. Shit, you hate walking into class late. Especially since it's become your new habit. You get so flustered when everyone turns to look. You straighten your outfit and fuss with your hair before opening the door.

All eyes are on you. Deep breath. You quickly scan for an open seat and try to look casual. Fuck. Usually, there are a few to choose from but since the test is next week all seats are taken, except for one. And it's in the back...next to him.

You try not to make eye contact but it's unavoidable. He's already looking at you with a smirk and pats the seat before you take it. You quickly pull out your notes and get down to business, pretending he doesn't exist. He snaps his gum and leans on the table, turning his head to obviously look at your averted gaze.

“Do you mind?” you whisper sharply, jotting down a note.

“Not at all, I like the view..” he snaps his gum again. You huff and keep writing. He leans over, looking down at your notebook. You look up and furrow your brows at him. He raises an eyebrow and your cheeks flush immediately, mind flashing back to what he did the last time you scowled at him. How firmly he yanked on that leash...

His grin pulls wider and you turn away quickly.

“Please..I really need to focu-”

“You missed a button..” he slips his finger between where your shirt is parted and your hand flies up to stop him, tossing your pen in the process. He hums as he reaches down to retrieve it. You rush to secure your shirt closed and huff a sigh. You really really need to focus.

He taps your pen on your notebook and mutters in your ear.

“You really shouldn't let him keep you up so late. You're gonna fail the test..” he drops the pen and looks forward to the lecture. You snatch it back.

He's not wrong. He leans sideways to your ear again.

“But we both know you can't get enough, can you..” his words bring the vivid image of his heavy cock laying hard on his abs to the front of your mind and you shift in your seat to try and ignore the sudden throb in your core.

Fuck. This is exactly why you've been avoiding him since the party.

Gojo is enough of a distraction for you. Throwing Getou into the mix would be completely disastrous.

Yet...

You can't deny what the thought of him does to your insides.

You had always been into the dark intellectual guys before Gojo fucked his way into your heart.

But Gojo had been adamant that he didn't want anything serious between you from the start of your fling.

So perhaps getting to know Getou a little more wouldn't be-

Holy Fuck.

His hand is on your thigh...

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(champagne & sunshine - PLVTINUM)

You stifle a gasp, train of thought being forcefully derailed by his touch. Your heartbeat pulses in your cheeks at the intrusion, and it only gets worse as he starts to tease the hem of your skirt up your leg.

Panic sets in and freezes you to your seat, eyes darting around faster than your racing heart, just waiting for someone to take notice. But all you see are the backs of heads, and your professor is busy writing on the board. You're fairly secluded in the back of the room, the tables are all two seated. He's got you right where he wants you. He keeps his eyes forward and whispers to you.

“Shh..settle sweetheart..don't fuss...they'll know..” you clutch the top of your notebook, keeping your heavy breaths as quiet as you possibly can while he feels his way to the heat beneath your skirt. He leans his elbow on the desk and rests his chin in his palm, examining the fluster in your eyes. He hums and rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit. Your teeth dig into your lip to trap a whimper.

“You’d better pay attention..I bet this’ll be on the test..” an evil smirk crawls across his face. He watches your brows furrow, desperate eyes begging him to stop. He shakes his head and rubs in on your clit. Pleasure spurs your core, helping to release your jaw and the hot breath that follows. You drop your head to suppress your arousal. It doesn't work.

“Open your legs..” his gentle voice is laced with some kind of poison, something that just makes you weak. You hum a little moan and stare at your notebook, shaking your head as subtly as possible.

“Suguru...please..” your whispered plea is met with a low chuckle, his fingers push in harder, you whimper.

“Spread. Your. Legs.” he growls through his teeth, the pressure is just too much, you exhale and slowly widen your knees under the table. Your cheeks are so hot you must be glowing at this point. He can feel your slick wetting your panties.

“Good girl. Now. Keep taking notes..” he smiles and nods to the lecture as his fingers pull aside your panties and gently touch on the soft skin beneath. He taps your pen on your notebook and raises an eyebrow.

“Fuck..” it's so hard to keep your composure, or your legs spread like this. How does he expect you to take fucking notes?!

“Oh, don't worry, I'm gonna fuck you later..but right now you need to focus..” the words make your walls clench and you hide your moan with a little cough. He lays your pen into your hand and helps you position it on the paper, all the while teasing his fingers around in your slick, just playing with your arousal.

This is all just a fun little game for Getou. Watching you struggle to contain yourself is really turning him on. Even more so since you could get caught. You've been playing so hard to get since the party. But the cat is out of the bag, he knows there's a kinky little freak underneath this teacher's pet facade you've got on. He saw the lust on your face when he and Gojo fucked you raw, relished how you sank to your knees and swallowed his cock. You're a good obedient slut and he intends to treat you as such, regardless of how Gojo feels about it.

You manage to spell out a few words before he starts rolling your exposed clit around under his finger.

"Oh my god!" The hushed moan comes out a bit louder than you thought it would. You grip the pen while your other hand flies over your mouth. You lean on the table and try to hold still, but your flinching hips give you away. You hear your professor stop talking and clear his throat.

"Excuse me, Ms. L/N, is there a problem?"

Fuck fuck fuck...his fingers are pressing harder.

Adrenaline mainlines through your system and your stomach twists up into a sickening knot. You smack the table and look up in a panic. Getou gives your poor clit no relief as you force out a response.

"NO! No..I'm..fine..just need to go to-unh-the restroom..please.."

You squeeze your knees back together just as everyone turns to look at you. He finally removes himself from between your legs, leaning back in his seat, smiling while he watches you quickly stand and flatten your skirt back down. You hurry down the aisle past the curious faces of your classmates, escaping into the hallway.

You fall back against the door and pant. You've never been so flustered. You take a deep breath and walk to the bathroom where you splash some water on your face and look hard at yourself in the mirror.

What the fuck was he doing? Why were you letting him do it? What the fuck has gotten into you?!

Who are you fucking kidding?

You liked it.

For all your protesting and fear of being caught, that made you so fucking wet, made you feel dangerous and naughty. You reach down and smirk, feeling how damp you are, rolling your eyes at yourself. Damn it, he's so bad.

You walk back into the classroom and try to ignore the prying eyes that follow you to your seat. You stare him down as you approach. That smirk pulls onto his mouth again and he pulls out your seat. You huff a breath and get back to your notes.

"That was close, huh?" he whispers after a few minutes. You keep your eyes on your notebook, surprising him with your little smile. He knew you fucking liked it.

You both sit through the remainder of class, sexual tension bristling between you, thick up to your necks. You look up at the clock, the bell is about to ring. You have a free period before your next class. You place your finger on his notebook and drag it away from him. He tilts his head and gives you an amused curious look as you jot something down. The bell announces the end of class and chairs begin to scrap on the floor, books rustling into backpacks. You slide it back to him and stand up quickly with your notebook in hand. He watches you saunter down the aisle and out the door without another glance his way. He huffs a laugh and looks down at what you wrote.

west wing hall closet. right now.

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(over - honors)

“Does Satoru know how bad you want me?” he growls the question into your neck. His hand catches your throat, and he thumps you back against the door. You bite into your grin, shaking your head.

"You're so fucking naughty.." he squeezes a little harder, he leans into you, licking up your neck. Your head falls back and you giggle.

"He doesn't need to know." you hear him groan and he bucks his hips against you, his other hand tugs your skirt up. You help him by hooking your fingers into your panties, pulling them down, smile still plastered on your blushing face. He lets go of your throat.

"That's my girl.." the purr in his low voice tickles your throbbing core, you moan and run your fingers up into his hair while he kisses down to your collarbone. He quickly undoes his belt and you land a kiss on his neck, sucking and biting down a little, making him grumble as his buckle hit the floor.

Suddenly, you hear your phone ring in your bag on the floor. You pull your mouth off him and realize immediately who's calling. So does he.

"Answer it.." he smirks, stepping back and nodding down at the bag. You drop and pull it out. You hesitate, settling your breath before opening the call.

"Hi Toru," Getou palms his bulging erection. You try to keep your voice calm and natural, but you're immediately distracted by the heavy cock that falls from his briefs before you.

"Hey bunny, are you done with class?" Getou strokes it, staring at your reaction.

"Uh..yep, all done.." his cock is so hard and swollen, precum is already leaking from the tip. Your walls tighten inside and you absent-mindedly lick your lips.

"Come meet me at the cafe, I owe you coffee after keeping you up so late..” you can hear the playful smile in his voice as Getou starts to close the distance between you. He grabs your leg and lifts it up to his hip. You grip his shoulder to steady yourself. You feel the tip of his cock prod at your slippery entrance and gasp.

“...hello? Y/N, what's wrong?” Getou’s grin widens, hearing Gojo’s voice through the phone. He pauses to let you come up with a reply.

“Nothing, I just..left something in the classroom, I'll meet you for coffee in-” your knees go weak as Getou cuts you off by driving his cock up inside you with no warning. Your head thumps back into the door and you cuss at him silently, shuddering as your unprepared cunt struggles to adjust to his abrupt entrance. He just grins and leans his hips into you harder, pinning you to the door with his cock.

“Hey I think you're breaking up..when will you be here?” you're too focused on the sweet stretch to answer and Getou plucks the phone from your hand.

“She’ll be there when I'm done with her..”

Your heart drops to the floor, your phone quickly follows. The look on his face is far too satisfied. He pulls back and ruts into you, punching your cervix and rattling the door, you let out a helpless mewl. Guilt and anger curdle with the arousal inside you and make you feel sick.

“What the fuck Sugu-oh!” he fucks into you harder, not giving you permission to admonish him.

“Shut the fuck up...don’t act like you don't want this...you fucking asked for it.” the door shakes on its hinges as he rails up into you, fucking you off the floor. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist and claw at his shoulders as you sink down around him.

You wanna be mad, wanna tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. That was totally uncalled for. But the way he's plunging into you, fucking you absolutely senseless has you exchanging all your protests for moans. Everything about this is wrong, you just don't have the will to stop it. You feel your gears shift up closer to your orgasm and groan as he pummels you against the door.

“You like being a bad girl..It's written all over your fucking face..” he takes a mental picture of how the stain on your cheeks compliments your gaping drooling mouth and rolling eyes. He feels your cunt squeeze his cock, willing him to give you more.

“Admit it, you're bored of his dick, he can't stretch you like this..” he throws his weight into you forcing you to squeal and nod, you can't deny it.

"Sugu-ru..I-I..'m gonna..oh fuck I'm-ha!" your hair comes loose from the bun and tumbles down around your shoulders.

He rocks his hips and stirs your insides, pressing his pelvis tight against your clit. The pressure makes you weak. Fuck, you're close. Your nails dig into his skin through his shirt. He leans in, breathing heavily over your ear.

“I know you're about to cum..I can feel it” that growl just makes you want to scream, but you've gotta keep quiet, who knows who might pass by the other side of this door. He keeps grinding into your clit, digging the head of his cock deep against your cervix. You slap your hand across your mouth for the second time today, muffling your own lusty noises. You're so fucking close.

“Should I let you..” he stops moving and you whimper, moving your hand off your mouth, squirming to continue the friction. He runs his fingers through your hair and grips tight at the back of your neck. Your strained desperate little sounds are so cute. He clicks his tongue.

“No..I think I'll keep this one for later..” your cunt clings to him as he pulls out his still hard cock, leaving you needy and vacant. He drops your legs from his hips and you're left panting against the door, watching him casually buckle his belt and tuck in his shirt. You don't know what to do. You feel a rush of shame. He doesn't care about you. He never cared about you. He just likes playing with you.

“Better pull yourself together...Satoru is waiting for you.” his wicked grin sends heat to your face and you pull your panties back on, straightening your skirt. He picks up your bag and you scowl at him, snatching it back and turning in a huff to leave.

This was a huge mistake, and now you have to come up with something to tell Gojo. Your heart sinks like a rock in your chest as you open the door. Getou reaches from behind you, pushing the door closed and leaning over your shoulder. He curls your hair behind your ear and you flinch away.

"Fix your hair.." you hastily spin the bun back on your head.

"Fuck you.." you curse him under your breath and storm out of the room.

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(woman - harry styles)

"Toru..I-" he scoffs into his coffee cup before you can even start your sentence. He leans back in his chair and avoids your eyes. You stand clutching your notebook, heart racing, palms sweating. You hate this so much.

"No, it's cool..Did you have fun with him? I bet he had fun with you.." the sharp sarcasm stabs at your heart, but more than that, it makes you prickle with anger.

"How dare you.." you're seething mad, but he can see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want with whomever I choose! This isn't a relationship, so don't act like I'm yours!"

You've never seen him blush before. Never seen pain in his eyes like you're seeing now. You just saw the sparkle go out. He remains silent, choking on the hard but honest truth of it all. You're not his, as much as he's been pretending you are.

The seconds pass like hours. Your breath gets heavy trying to hold back the tears. The guilt is eating you alive. Being with Suguru made you realize that your feelings for Satoru are so much different than you thought. So much stronger. And you just threw it all away for some stupid little thrill in the hall closet.

He stands from his seat. Your heart feels crushed and you huff a whimper. You shut your eyes, pushing tears over your lashes. This is it, he's gonna walk away. You don't wanna see it happen.

You pull in a sharp breath at the feeling of his arms around you. He sets his head down in the crook of your neck and squeezes you into his chest. Tears stream down your face, you can't stifle your cry.

You hear him take a deep breath...

"Then I'll make you mine.."

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@himiko-omikami @darkrose1989 @angelalje @ambiguous-something

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #getou x reader #getou x y/n #getou x you #getou smut

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