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#okay so it’s not October at ALL anymore but that ask today inspired me to keep going anyway
incorrectsibunaquotes · 7 months
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House of October (Fictober 2023) - Day 10: “It’s alright, I’m here now.”
Summary:
Even after all these years, the nightmares still come.
link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50437477/chapters/129707917
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whumptober · 4 years
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Whumptober 2020 - Updated
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Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging
No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY  "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped
No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building
No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue
No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"
No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker
No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation
No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice
No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood
No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying
No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust
No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire
No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong
No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage
No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia
No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt
No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval
No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection
No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal
No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation
No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears
No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness
No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage
No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged
No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest
No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury
No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead
Alternate Prompt List
Alt 1. Punctured
Alt 2. Falling
Alt 3. Comfort
Alt 4. Stitches
Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees
Alt 6. Altered States
Alt 7. Found Family
Alt 8. Adverse Reactions
Alt 9. Memory Loss
Alt 10. Nightmares
Alt 11. Presumed Dead
Alt. 12. Water
Alt. 13 Accidents
Alt. 14 Shot
Alt. 15 Carry/Support
Event Info
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruised, #stabbed,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020​ blog. They must be tagged in the order above.
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.
Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?
Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes,  but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day's prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What's whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
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write-orflight · 4 years
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Galileo: Chapter 5
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**Gif Not Mine**
Prev -  Next
Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope
Rating: M
Words: 2.5K
Warnings: Light smut, 18+
Request: OPEN/CLOSED
Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.
A.N Unedited because i’m sleepy. There’s a fic I read when I first joined the fandom that inspired some of this chapter. i can’t remember the name but if you do, please tell me so I can credit. Comment on this chapter only or message to be on taglist please.
                             Chapter 5: Saturn 
There was a rare occurrence that happens sometimes in Space where a Planet will tilt off its axis and disrupt the order of things in the galaxy forever. Even though it hasn’t happened yet, it doesn't make it not possible. You had always thought about that phenomenon and how you never quite understood how so many scientists just blindly believed in that possibility with no proof. It wasn’t until that dance with Spencer that you believed in it. If you were the galaxy, that dance was the tilt in your axis. 
Nothing could quite be the same again. 
It seemed that Spencer himself was the disruptor. 
Since that day, everything between the two of you was different. It was simpler. It was too easy to have conversations, to laugh at each other's jokes, to spit inane useless facts at each other. But it also became too easy to melt at Spencer’s bright smile, too easy to stare at his hands as he helped you with your math sometimes, too easy to flush whenever he paid you a compliment on your work. 
Too easy to fall in love with him. 
You didn’t want to think about that but you couldn’t help it. At first, you wanted to chalk it up to you not knowing how to differentiate your feelings. Maybe you just thought you were in love with him because he was the first guy to be nice to you since Jonathan but as the days went on you knew that to not be the case. None of this felt like how you were with Jonathan. With Spencer, it just felt easy. Just felt right. 
It was the weekend so you had off work. Before you would always end up going into work anyway and getting some extra logs in but now you liked staying in and hanging out with Spencer. Right now the two of you were walking in the plaza near your home, fresh cups of coffee in hand. Spencer, at first, did not want to be out but after some convincing (which was just you threatening to leave without him, which he did not like) he was all for joining you out. The two of you stopped in a bookstore and you made a beeline for the astrology section. You hear Spencer scoff when you pick up a book to look through it. You raise an eyebrow at him. 
“What?” You say. 
“Astrology, really? Aren’t you a scientist?” 
“Yea, an astronomer. I love Space, so while Astrology isn’t a proven science. It’s fun to think the stars have a say in what kinda person you are.” You shrug. “When’s your birthday?” 
“October 28th.” 
“Of course you’re a Scorpio.” 
“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Astrology isn’t real.” 
“You must be real fun at parties.” You roll your eyes. 
“Well, what’s your sign?” 
“I’m a Cancer. Did you know that water signs are the most compatible? Especially Scorpios and Cancers.” 
Spencer laughs out loud at that. You turn looking him in the eye. “What’s funny?” you say. 
“That itself doesn’t tell you that astrology is bullshit?” He laughs. You narrow your eyes at him. “I mean, us, compatible? It’s funny.” 
You try. You try so very hard not to look hurt by his words, you know Spencer’s a profiler and will see right through it. And he does by the sympathetic look he gives you. 
“You’re right, maybe it is bullshit.” You say, putting the book down instantly. “Let’s go home.” 
You and Spencer don’t talk the whole walk home, in fact you don’t talk when you get there. You’re about to just retreat to your room when you feel a hand circle your wrist. 
“I’m sorry.” He says. 
“You didn’t do anything.” 
“I hurt your feelings.” He says. 
“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” You lied. “I’m just with you all the time. Sometimes I just need a minute alone. Is that okay?” 
He lets go of your wrist. “Of course, I’m sorry.” 
You nod and retreat to your room, blowing a heavy breath as you fell into your bed. Might as well take a nap. You thought as you let sleep take you over. 
-----------------------------------------------------
Long, slender fingers found their way into your hair and yanked roughly. You couldn’t help the soft whimper that came behind it. You felt the lips that were sucking hard bruising marks into your neck smirk slightly. His other hand trailed your body lightly until they met their final destination at your sex. You gasp loudly when the digit rubbed soft circles around your clit. 
“Are you going to be good for me?” He asked, you nodded dumbly before moaning out loud when the first digit found its way inside you. Spencer smirked at you. “Look at you. I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet for me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asked, you nodded and gasped again as he found that spot inside you. “Hmm, I don’t think you want it enough baby.”   
You’re shaking your head immediately. “No. Ple-please fuck me.” You stutter. “I’ll be good, I swear.” 
The smirk he gives you is almost devilish. “Alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says as you feel member pressing up against your sex--
You wake up to the smell of something burning and Spencer shouting expletives from what you assumed was the kitchen. You groaned, frustratedly. Since that day your mom came to visit, you dreamed of Spencer almost constantly. Today was no different. You couldn’t escape him in your waking hours and now it seemed you couldn’t even escape him sleeping. 
You hop out of bed and run to the kitchen. The sight before is Spencer frantically waving the billowing smoke that was coming from your oven. You run to open your window and turn the oven fan on. You both look at the pan that had something that couldn’t even be described as food anymore by the degree of which it was burned. Spencer looked at you guiltily. 
“You seemed upset so I thought I’d make you dinner but I was reading and I lost track of time. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
You smile at him. “Thank you for thinking of me but I wanted chinese tonight anyway, sound good?”  You say, he nods gratefully. 
Later the two of you are sitting at your kitchen table, eating chinese out of the takeaway containers. You were talking about nothing and everything until the topic came to College. You talked about how freshman year you did the whole partying thing before quickly finding out it wasn’t your scene and keeping to yourself for the rest of your college career. Spencer told you he never went to any parties in college. 
“You never went to any parties?!” You asked, shocked.
“Well, I was 12. No one was really scrambling to invite me to frat parties.” 
“So you didn’t do any traditional college games? No beer pong? No ‘Never Have I Ever’?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head. That’s when you get a fantastic idea. You get up and look in the cabinet above your stove which is where you kept your liquor and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. Spencer sees this and immediately shakes his head. 
“No.” 
“Aww, come on. Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” You smile. “If you’ve done the thing you drink.” 
“I don’t want to play a remedial drinking game.” 
You think for a second. “How about this? You’re a profiler, right? And I like to think I’m a little observant so how about this. We’ll take turns making assumptions about the other if the person is right, the other drinks and if they’re wrong, you drink.” 
“I don’t know… it probably isn’t wise for me to be drinking. I’m supposed to be watching you.” 
“It’s not like we go anywhere that’s not here anyway.” You say. “Plus, if you're good at your job, you’ll hardly have to drink.” You throw a pouty face on for good measure. Spencer rolls his eyes. 
“Fine.” He says standing up and snatching the bottle from you, walking to the living room. You giggle at him before grabbing two glasses to follow him out. “Just so you know, it’s wrong to peer pressure people.” He says. 
“Well, what’s a college drinking game without peer pressure.” You laugh. 
------------------------------------------------- 
“Who’s starting?” You say as you watch Spencer pour your glass. The two of you are settled on opposite ends of your small couch, facing each other, your knees just almost touching. 
“You can.” Spencer says. “I want to see if you're actually observant.” 
“Okay.” You say, sitting up slightly at the challenge. “You’re an only child.” You say. Spencer raises his eyebrows at you, shocked you actually got something right, but drinks anyway. 
Spencer looks at you for a second. “You have an older sibling you are not close to.” 
You drank. “Yea I’ve got an adoptive older brother. There’s nothing wrong, it’s just he was already much older when I was born and we have nothing in common, other than our parents.” You look at Spencer for a second. “I wanna say divorced parents, but only raised by one.” 
“You’re a lot more observant than I thought.” Spencer says as he drinks. “Dad left when I was 10.” He says offhandedly. 
The game goes like this for a while, both of you confirming your beliefs of each other. You find out about Spencer’s mother's illness, Spencer learning you smoke when you’re stressed. Spencer was winning though, not that you had a problem with that as you wanted to drink, hence why you suggested the game. You were giving him a little bit of a run for his money. It was now your turn and the alcohol in your system must’ve turned off your filter because you say. 
“You’re a virgin.” 
You pause for a second waiting for him to drink when you realize he’s waiting on you to. You widen your eyes in shock but take your drink anyway. “I thought Maeve died before you got to meet her fully.” 
Spencer nods. “She did.” He says, “The two don’t correlate.” He says, like it's obvious. 
You hadn’t been expecting that. “You just didn’t strike as the hit it and quit it type.” 
“And I’m not, but sometimes things are just temporary.” He says looking at you, deeply in your eyes. “You were upset today, in the shop because I said we weren’t compatible.”  
You solemnly take a drink. “Why?” He asks. 
“Hey, that’s not a part of the game.” You say. 
“Please?” He adds. 
You sigh. “I don’t know… I guess, it seemed like the idea of being with me repulsed you. And that was upsetting.” 
Spencer looks at you with the most intense look in his eye. You had never seen that look before and you were glad you hadn’t because it was so heated that it was melting you where you sat. “The idea of being with you…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “Doesn’t repulse me. Trust me.” 
You knew you weren’t the best at social cues sometimes but that seemed like a pretty big one. You move closer to him, so that your faces were close but someone would still have to make that final move. You realize it’s your turn, so you think, Fuck it...  
“You want to kiss me right now.” You say, looking Spencer in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow swig from his glass, eyes never leaving yours. He sits his glass down on the table next to him before saying. 
“You want me to kiss you.” 
You sip your drink, looking him right back in the eyes. You sit your glass down next to his and Spencer's hand catches your wrist on its way back. Before you can even get a good look at him, his lips are crashing on to yours. You groan in surprise before melting into it, your hands immediately going for his hair. His massive hands almost engulf your face as he tries to pull you impossibly close to him. He groans as he licks into your mouth, both of you tasting like the Jameson you had just drunk but there was also something under it that was just pure Spencer. You push him back until you are fully seated in his lap. His hands go immediately to your waist. Feeling risky, you experimentally grind your hips, causing Spencer to groan and grip you tighter. His hands slide up your shirt slightly, you moan at that. 
“Fuck-” Spencer says as you suck bruises down his neck. “Fuck, w-we’ve gotta stop.” 
You pull back. “Why?” you ask. 
Spencer swallows, pushing you off his lap. “There’s this thing called transference. You only want me right now because I’m protecting you. You don’t like me.” He says. “We don’t like each other.” 
You realized what Spencer was trying to say. You were both drunk and there, he didn’t really want you. It was being stuck together for so long that was making him attracted to you. You were foolish to think a guy would actually want you. 
“You don’t like me.” You say. “And I read this situation wrong again. God, I’m an idiot!”  
“I didn’t say that, Y/N-” 
“No, you’re right. You only kissed me because I’m what you’ve been stuck with for weeks. You don’t like me. I can’t blame you no guy ever does.” 
“No, Y/N, I just didn’t want to take advan--” 
“I need to smoke. I’m going out.” You say, grabbing. “Alone.” 
“Y/N, that’s not safe and you know it. Let me go with you.” 
“I think we both need to be away from each other. I’ll only be out front. Please.” You plead to him. 
  Spencer doesn’t say anything so you take that as your cue to go. You pull your pack and lighter out the kitchen draw and stomp out the door. As soon as you get in front of the building, you light the first cigarette as stray tears fall down your face. You were such an idiot to think someone like Spencer would want you. Sure you were both smart but you were arrogant and spiteful. Spencer was the sweetest person ever when you got to know him. It was stupid to think there was a world the two of you would work. 
You frustratedly put your cigarette out and stand to head back inside to probably embarrass yourself some more when you feel it. 
The hard slam to the back of your head knocking you out cold. 
------------------------------
Taglist: @lokislilslut​ @spencerreidslove​ @evelyncade @ceeellewrites​ @diesinspanishbcimhispanic​ @eevee0722​ @fiftyshadesof-reid​ @cielo1984​ @differentkettleoffishalltogether​ @criminalmindzjunkie​ @bbygirlq2020​ @quillanpie​ @themanwiththreephds​ @itshatertatertotblog​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @graciehams​ @no-honey-no​ @capricornmashmallow​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @big-galaxy-chaos​
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alltooreid · 3 years
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All Too Well
Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever
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A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)
Word Count: 2.4k
Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash
Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!
“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”
Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.
But the magic was gone and so was she. 
Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 
“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 
As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 
However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.
It was still her birthday.
And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 
So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.
But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.
So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.
“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”
She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 
And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “
“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”
She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”
Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 
How was nothing about this place, his? 
  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 
He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 
Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 
But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.
As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.
But then he saw it. 
The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 
“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.
“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”
She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.
He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”
Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 
“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.
She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 
“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”
Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”
She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”
At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 
The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.
No one would notice if he….. Right?
Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 
He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 
“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”
“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”
“Oh, whatever.”
A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 
So he didn’t pick up.
Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.
His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 
He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 
“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”
He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”
She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”
Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 
And once again he let it ring.
Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 
Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.
Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.
“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”
“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”
He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.
“You are my future.”
Not that he could use it again.
“You are my everything.”
It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.
“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”
When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.
And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.
“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.
Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.
So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.
“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”
So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 
“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”
“I love you so much Y/N”
“I love you too.”
Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 
But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.
“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”
Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”
“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”
Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.
“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”
“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”
“Anything sir.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.
How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?
“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”
161 notes · View notes
huaxxian · 3 years
Text
Stone Skipping || CH2 ; 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯
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Half a year had passed since [name] and Senku had been revived at the very same day. Experiments were conducted, their home slightly improved, but the two had still made no other progress with the revival serum. Despite that, neither had given up, instead opting to continue trying.
The two teenagers had been gathering sticks in an area near their home, each having an axe of their own. “[nickname],” Senku looks down at their form, who sat in the very same branch he was standing on. Said person looked up at him, tilting their head. “You brought the basket, right?” They nodded in response, silently pointing at the basket below their branch. He nodded thankfully, adjusting the sticks gathered in his arms.
He could see them move to take it from his grasp, but he gave a pointed look, saying, “Don’t you dare take it. I already made you carry three other baskets back home.” A pout overtook their face, but nonetheless, they nodded and sat back down as he cut even more sticks from the upper branches.
rustle, rustle
step, step, step
[name] perked up at the sounds, turning their head to look past Senku’s form. Not even a moment later, an oh-so-ever-familiar form popped from the bushes as he pushed it aside, breathing heavily. The smile on their face widened as Taiju’s eyes widened at the sight of the duo. “S-Senku..! [nickname]!” His eyes teared up.
I found them! They’re alive!
From beside the shorter teenager, Senku smirked at him. “Kukuku, so you finally woke up, eh? You great big oaf, stop making your sibling worry for so long. You don’t want to see them with white hair so quickly, now do you?” He quickly moved down from the tree, offering his hand to [name] after, helping them down.
Immediately upon the teenager’s safe landing on the floor, Taiju started wailing, opening his arms to hurriedly give a hug their way. Not even concerned in the slightest, all [name] did was open their arms, beaming right back.
"You're alive, you're alive!! Senku, [nickname]! I c-can't believe it.."
Well, if [name] wasn't the slightest bit concerned, Senku most definitely was. Placing a foot on his face, the male hurriedly pushed the shortest out of Taiju's way, which ended up being behind him. "Don't hug either of us when you're buck naked, idiot! I'll fucking kill you!" [name] gave his back a pat, shaking their head. "Sen-chan, don't be too mean. You know it's completely just how Tai-chan is." They smiled, turning to the said person. "It's nice to see you after so long.. I would give you a hug, but.. I don't think Sen-chan would let me."
Taiju returned his sibling figure's smile. "It's okay! I get it.." He scratches his head sheepishly, laughing it off. "I think?" They giggled in response, motioning their head to follow them, which he did. Starting their trek back home, Senku spoke, "As of today, it's October 5th, in the year 5738 AD. How long you planning on sleeping in, huh?"
He pointed at [name], who was beside him, skipping as they went. "We've been awake and working for over a half a year now." Taiju blinked in surprise, the information slowly processing in his brain as seconds passed. "Huh?" The brawn of the group looked over to the other brain, confusion evident on his face. "How does Senku know just precisely what the date is..?"
[name] closed their eyes and smiled at him. "Sen-chan just counted, is all." Senku picked at his ear, scoffing. "As if there's another way of keeping track."
Another slow moment of processing.
"..So then, inside that darkness.. the whole time, you.." He glanced at [name] once more. "Did you too..?" His tone of voice had softened considerably, and so had his features. They shook their head. "It was just him, and I knew even then." They smiled and looked forward as Senku pushed aside the branches ahead of them.
"Even if I was able to wake up through sheer willpower alone.. If I were to wake up without means of survival in the midst of winter and with no food supply, it'd be game over. That's why, in order to survive, it was essential that I start in spring."
"That's also precisely why Sen-chan needs an accurate calendar," [name] added, "He wouldn't be able to know otherwise, and luck would be too much of a risk to depend on." Taiju placed a hand under his chin, opening his mouth to ask another question when Senku jerked his head to the front. "Hey, we're here. Don't just stand around gawking, get your ass over here and help out."
Brown eyes widened in astonishment. It wasn't no fancy house, but it was stable and enough. A simple rack made of sticks and vines leaned on the tree's huge trunk, holding several stone spears. "I haven't had enough manpower. [nickname] was of great help, but I didn't want to burn them out than what was necessary. That'd be stupid, I'd be working the only other person in this world death. It took up to an entire day of just drawing up life and survival plans on my own, while they hunted for food and materials. To progress forward into some kind of civilization from here.." He trailed off, glancing behind him to where the two stood, listening to his explanation.
"We've been waiting for you all this time," Taiju pointed to himself, confusion heavily lacing his face. "Yes, you, damnit Taiju. We waited for you because we were both ten billion percent sure that you were alive!" [name] walked forward, now beside the scientist. "You decided to tell Yuzu-chan about your feelings prior to the petrification, and we both knew Tai-chan well enough to know that you wouldn't give up after deciding so."
"Especially not after being cut off in the middle of a man's resolve," he huffed and smirked. "You weren't ball-less to the point of giving up and throwing in the towel after just a measly thousand years!"
Taiju looked down, clenching his fist. It was silent for a few seconds, but as always, with them, it doesn't last long. The fiery determination they had gotten accustomed to seeing had returned ten-fold, and they could only stare as he agreed.
"You're damned right!"
The scientist of the quartet looked over at his assistant. "Can ya get him some damn clothes already?" His nose scrunched in disgust as he pointed shakily at the muscular student, earning a confused and completely innocent look in return. [name] laughed at his obvious disgruntlement, nodding. "I'll go get clothes for Tai-chan!" They waved before carefully climbing their so-called ladder and hurrying inside.
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
It didn't take long before Taiju had gotten his clothes, and before [name] was forced to rest by the one and only scientist of the group. The two had bickered back and forth repeatedly; Senku insisted that they take a break, since they apparently wouldn't be getting a lot even with Taiju around. Despite his confusion, Taiju agreed with this, making them reach a compromise.
[name] would rest just as the two wanted them to, but not up in the hut. Instead, they'd be napping on a covered area on the ground near the fire Senku was trying to make.
"When we need to use our heads.. I'll leave the thinking up to the two of you, Senku." Taiju glanced at his napping sibling. "And when we need to use our bodies.. you leave that to me." Senku glanced over as well. They looked comfortable enough, not at all irritated by the grass or the fire crackling nearby. Sleeping like a baby, they simultaneously thought, amused.
Senku turned towards Taiju once more. The time humanity took to climb from the stone age to our previous civilization.. was two million years. But, we're going to dash all the way back to the top all at once. "We'll take back the world and I'll identify the scientific cause on why we turned into stone, and how we were revived.. with the help of [name]."
Careful not to shout as he usually does, Taiju nodded and added, "And then.. I'll save Yuzuriha!"
"Three high school kids.. are going to build civilization from zero. We'll become the Adam and Eve of this world." Senku smirked widely, standing up and placing his hands on his waist. "Now, things are starting to get exciting!"
.
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.
.
The two were calm and quite frankly, inspired by each other's goals, only to panic as [name] sleepily moved around, adjusting their place during their sleep. They covered each other's mouths and stared worriedly down at the shortest of them three, but fortunately, they didn't wake up. Taiju and Senku looked at each other and nodded, vowing not to cause anymore noise.
Senku pointed at their tree house and mouthed, "Bring them up." The other caught on to this instantly and carefully scooped them up in his arms, making sure that they were comfortable and left asleep. Then, without much difficulty, Taiju brought them upstairs, his friend following in tow. He placed them down on their make-shift bed, pulling the extra animal skin they had used as a blanket over them not long after, patting their head affectionately.
Taiju blinked and turned to Senku. "Wait, so was it just you guys this whole time?" The male in question raised his eyebrow. "Yeah, it's just been us." Taiju stared at him, expecting him to say something. "Why are you staring at me like that for??" He opened his mouth, pointing as he whispered, "You didn't tell them about your fee—"
Senku quickly put a zip on his mouth, grumbling.
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
The next morning, [name] had woken up to Senku and Taiju still sleeping. It must be pretty early still.. They pushed the blanket away from their form, standing up silently. The teen carefully walked down the ladder, keeping an eye out on the two until they were out of their vision. A yawn escaped their mouth as they stretched their arms and shoulders, shaking their head as they did. What to do..?
[eye color] eyes looked around. They could go hunting for food like mushrooms and animals, but it would be more efficient for Taiju to do it, because he was literal brawn. Though, maybe I should come with Tai-chan later on if he does end up gathering food.. He might take poisonous mushrooms along. [name] could make more jars or baskets, but Senku would most definitely scold them for working too hard. Again.
Honestly, they can't see what he's talking about.
So instead, they opted to walk towards the high school primate's statue. If they could remember correctly, which they could, Tsukasa Shishio's statue was not too far from Yuzuriha and the camphor tree.
True to their memory, it really wasn't far. No animals in sight, nor any other statues in his area. Nature's green, green, and more green is all that could be seen. Pretty, [name] smiled to themselves, gathering the bunch of dahlias and other flowers into their arms. Without much struggle at all, they weaved the bunch into a gorgeous flower crown, one that would surely fit snugly on Tsukasa's head.
They brought it on the male's head, fixing the vines and the petals softly, making sure that his vision wasn't obscured whatsoever. Next, they took a few steps back, admiring their work. As I thought, it does fit Tsuka-chan. [name] nodded in approval and sat down on a nearby root, humming a song they especially liked from back then.
I wonder how everything became like this.. A time-lapse would be interesting to see.
They looked down on the dirt. It was devoid of rocks, unlike the last few areas they've been in. Upon realizing, the teen immediately takes a stick and begins drawing on the ground. Three pairs of nubs.. three heads too. Leek for hair, spiky hair, wavy hair.. Rocket ship. Proud, they grinned and tilted their head, staring down at their work.
It wasn't the best of art, of course. It was merely three little chubby figures that represented the trio that they so deeply treasured. Their proud green faded, and soon, a frown had taken its place. Something's missing.. Quickly, [name] erased the rocket ship outline with their foot to make space. Then, without a shadow of a doubt, they added one more figure.
Long hair and buffy arms.. It's Tsuka-chan!
The grin from before returned anew. The rocket ship outline was quickly drawn again, and for this time, they were satisfied.
"I wonder if Tai-chan is already awake.. or Sen-chan.." They yawned and stood up, brushing away the not-so imaginary dirt around of their skirt. [eye color] eyes glanced behind to check on the statue one last time before smiling. "I'll see you soon, Tsuka-chan.."
With that, they turned back, walking back home.
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
When they had arrived, the two were already awake and kicking, arranging their respective areas. Taiju had noticed them first, and with a happy shout, had alerted Senku as well. "You're back," the scientist nodded towards them in greeting. In contrast to his reaction, Taiju immediately got down from their little hut and bounded towards his sibling, hugging them tightly.
"Keep hugging them like that and they'll run out of air, you big idiot." Senku retorted as he followed suit, albeit less enthusiastically and more calmly. [name] only smiled in return, patting the taller on the back. "Big oaf, you up for gathering food?" Enthusiastically, the male in mention nodded his head, quickly taking a basket from nearby. [eye color] eyes glanced at the scientist, as if waiting.
Feeling their expectant stare, Senku snickered and picked at his ear with his pinky. "Of course, you're joining him too [nickname]. Keep him out of trouble, and make sure the idiot doesn't get himself attacked or poisoned." He pressed a hand against his mouth, as if trying to block the snickers.
Not that he was actually trying, though. It was actually the opposite.
Satisfied and amused, [name] closed their eyes and smiled, taking a basket as well. Taiju immediately dashes off, leaving a trail of dust behind him, and causing it to spread everywhere. [name] coughed and looked away from all the sand and dust before waving at the scientist. "We'll make sure not to take too long, Sen-chan.."
Senku gave another nod before turning away. The [hair color]-haired teen hurried, and with some effort, was able to catch Taiju before he could get too far from them.
"[nickname], what should we gather first?" [eye color] eyes looked around cautiously, taking in the environment. From what they could tell, there were some pigs nearby. The rustling as well as their familiar grunts is what gave it away. They quickly pressed a finger to their mouth, to which Taiju immediately silenced himself, waiting for their next order.
"There are pigs nearby. We don't know where the mushrooms are at right now, and since the pigs seem to be a closer choice, let's go with that.." [name] spoke as softly as they could, but loud enough for Taiju to still understand their message. He nodded in determination and moved to single-handedly take any pig on, but stopped as they placed a pale hand on their arm, halting him in his position. He looked towards his sibling in confusion, tilting his head.
[name] smiled at him and shook their head, motioning him to stay still, so he did. Taiju watched curiously as the teen quietly grabbed onto a branch and pulled their upper body up, causing them to now stand. Surprisingly enough, despite all the movement, the rustle of leaves seemed natural, as if it was just a rustle of the wind and not a teenager climbing a tree. He could only watch as [name] looked down at him from their position above, saying, "Please stay here, Tai-chan.. I'll bring them to you, so brace yourself to catch one or two, okay?"
Taiju beamed up at them. "Okay." He responded, lowering his stance and opening his arms wide. His sibling smiled at his determination and switched from tree to tree, getting closer to the area of the pigs, as evidenced by the growing sound of grunts. Few adults.. few young ones, [name] mused to themselves. Some squeals were pitched, but majority weren't.
I can't overwhelm Tai-chan with too many pigs. I can't trap them when they're this close either. The very best I can do is to get one or two younger pigs.. But how do I? They glanced around. They moved to another tree, one that was to the left of the pigs. Tai-chan is to the right. The pigs can't move to the north, there's no entrance or exit there. It's blocked. [name] quickly stood still and observed keenly from above.
There were four adults, but only two piglets to be seen. Sen-chan would be satisfied with one, or at the very most, two of them.
And so, they formulated a plan.
Without further a do, they dropped from the tree, not bothering to cover the noise. The pigs became alert, and soon enough, their eyes had caught on to the teen's form. They grew increasingly loud in sound and scattered, moving towards their left, the other remaining direction for escape. Quickly reacting, [name] ran towards the two mini-groups (stomping and making loud noise with their feet all the while), forcing the piglets to separate from their adults. This time, they moved towards Taiju's direction, just as they had planned.
[name] immediately began creating even more noise, as well as increasing their speed. In panic, the pigs hurried even closer towards Taiju's direction.
Any moment now. [eye color] eyes made contact with familiar brown ones, and they nodded. Taiju shouted as he tackled the two piglets into his grasp, making the shorter of the two smile and stop abruptly. With heavy breathing, they helped him place one piglet in each of their baskets.
"That was a good idea, [nickname]!" Taiju laughed and gave them a particularly hard pat on the back in congratulations, causing them to lose all the air they had regained and double over, coughing all the while.
"Ack— I'm sorry [nickname]!!"
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"Wow, you guys got so much," Senku stared down at the two's baskets, which now sat on the floor. "You got some crazy cheats going with your endurance there, Taiju.." He trailed off as he glanced to his assistant. "You didn't just dash wherever did you? [nickname] looks like they went through a hurricane." The scientist laughed as he pointed at them.
He wasn't wrong there. The poor [hair color]-haired teen had their hair all over their face, with tangles way more than they'd like. Leaves, petals, and even sand had gotten into their hair as well; Senku could only wonder what the hell Taiju had put them through to come back this haggard. [name] only smiled patiently as Taiju turned red in embarrassment, causing him to laugh even more.
"He did exactly that, actually.." Their words only made Taiju shout apologies, to which they shook their head at in amusement. "I couldn't stop him at all, sorry Sen-chan.." They chuckled and jokingly bowed their head in apology. Senku snickered again and walked towards them, patting away all the sand away from their hair. He removed the leaves and petals along the way, tugging gently at the strands that had gotten tangled.
"Don't you worry about it at all. I can't blame you when he's like this." He ignored Taiju's pouting at the side and only continued fixing his [hair color]-haired friend's head. It didn't take much arranging to actually clean [name] up, and soon enough, all was well. They smiled at him gratefully and he returned it slightly before backing away and moving towards the baskets.
Taiju watched in curiosity as he sat on the ground, expecting him to do something completely different, only to see him blatantly separating what they had found. [name], on the other hand, watched in amusement at their brother's reaction as Senku began listing them all off. "Amanita virosa, poisonous! Hypsizygus tessellatus, brown clamshell, edible! Amanita muscaria, Fly agaric, poisonous! Can't you just tell that thing's no good?! It looks like it came from Mario!"
With every mentioned name, Taiju's confused and aghast expression worsened, making them chuckle. "Calm down, Sen-chan.. That was a pretty good haul for the first time. I'm sure Tai-chan will take that into mind next time?" The two looked over to him. One stare was filled with doubt, and the other was one of utter patience and belief. Taiju doesn't respond, only choosing to blink at them in confusion. Senku sighed, "He probably won't, you know. Oh well, I'll bid you good luck when the time comes."
The scientist takes a few of the edible mushrooms and placed them on the sticks over the fire. The trio surrounded the fire they had made in silence, waiting for Senku's word. He first handed a decent-sized one over to Taiju, then proceeded to give an even bigger mushroom to the other teen. [name] blinked slowly as Senku gave them a stern glance. "Get some more fat in your bones, you look like you could get blown away by the wind any moment now."
From beside the [hair color]-haired teen, Taiju also added, "You always ate too less during lunch time too! Get some more food!" He immediately begins handing more mushrooms over to them, with Senku following right away. "I don't think I can stomach t-this much, you two.." [name] gently pushed the food away and just stuck with the one the scientist had given them. "But, I guess I can try eating this one at least..?" they smiled.
It wasn't the best compromise, but it satisfied the two males enough to leave them alone for now. Taiju took the first bite, making [name] and Senku stare expectantly. "D-Delicious!" He shouted in glee, "What'd you season these with?!" Senku grinned and begin taking normal-sized bites into his food as well.
"Just regular old salt that [nickname] and I extracted from the sea water. With just salt added, humans can eat just about anything. Salt is also indispensable when preserving food, and probably was the primitive man's greatest discovery." He explained. Taiju, upon finishing his mushroom, thanked the male whole-heartedly. "For all the things things I'd never be able to figure out! Both of you. I'll repay you in kind with determination and strength!"
He then finished his food and stood up, puffing his chest out in determination. Without even a warning, he took a basket and scurried off, shouting, "All right!! Time to go gather on the back side!"
Senku had opened his mouth to tell him that it was okay, but he had already been too far from their sight. He shook his head and turned to his side, where they sat with an amused smile and a still completely unfinished mushroom. "I don't get how you can keep up with him. He has too much stamina, he has got to be cheating with something." He grumbled, and gathered the sticks his friend had left into his hands. "Should you really be asking me that, Sen-chan? You have known them longer than I have, if anything, I'm surprised you've survived this long.." [name] chuckled and continued eating.
"Speaking of which, the back side is near towards the cave where you came from, right, Sen-chan?" The scientist hummed in confirmation. "Yeah, why?" He glanced over his shoulder, seeing them stand up and brush away any dirt that could have gotten on their skirt. "Maybe we should follow Tai-chan, he might assume there's someone else out there aside from us if he sees the pot.." Not expecting it, Senku let out an amused scoff. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did, he is a big oaf after all. Sure, let's go. His mind can go to absurd places and it'd be easier to explain when we're there."
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[ Author's Note ] // So far, these are all the chapters I've pulled from quotev. As of this very moment, I'm working on two separate chapters: a 100-hearts special, and the next regular chapter. For those of you who found this in Tumblr, I made a poll before on what the readers would like for the special. As it turns out, 'Crossover Traveling' won. No one really expressed what they wanted aside from my friends, who I asked personally. I ended up choosing Kimetsu no Yaiba as your destination. That's all for this note, thank you so much for reading, and for your time!
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crescentsteel · 4 years
Text
Just Friends - Part 7
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plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: sexual tension, slow burn word count: 7.2k 
A.N:
- Finally!! I'm so glad to finally release this. October was so hectic and I'm a very slow writer. - I'm so sorry for the mistakes on the previous chapters. No one beta reads for me. So I went back and edited Chapters 3-6. - So sorry for the word vomit on this chapter. I was out of control. - Thank you for all the nice comments!! I swear. They keep me fired up and inspired.  - As always, lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my works,
Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list
“No! It’s not what you think!”
Kuroo almost laughs at how cliche you sounded, a typical response of someone who’s been caught red-handed. You’re about to chase Kenma, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Maybe you should wear your shirt before you go after ‘im.” He tries to hide the mirth in his expression and tone. Your face is so red, you look like you’re about to burst. He also doesn’t want to add up more to the awkwardness you might feel later, so he’s gonna let this one slide. He’ll just pretend that the massage thing was as harmless as it should be. 
You put your shirt in a jumble and walk briskly to Kenma. He follows at his normal pace, settling behind you when he catches up to you and Kenma.
“Sorry about that,” you laugh nervously. “He was just giving me a back massage.”
It was kinda the truth, but Kenma looks dubious. 
“It sounded more than a massage.”
He covers his lips with his back hand so he wouldn’t laugh. Although his rascal self wants to tease you more, he can’t let you feel any more embarrassed than this. He looks at Kenma and shakes his head minutely with a knowing look, hinting not to push the subject any further. 
“Naah. Y/n here is just really stressed so she moans like she’s being fucked.” Okay, maybe he couldn’t completely let it slide after all. 
You irritatedly look at him and punch his arm with more force than usual. “Piss off,” you hiss. 
He dramatically rubs the arm you just hit. “Ow! So violent.”
Kenma ignores the antics and just passes by you two. He’s about to plop himself on the couch, but pauses. He instead gets a chair and seats himself there.
You couldn’t overlook that. Obviously, in Kenma’s mind, you and Kuroo were doing something indecent there so he doesn’t want to be in it. You want to clear it up to Kenma that you really weren’t doing anything of that sort. Well, you were about to pounce on Kuroo, but still, it didn’t actually happen. 
In a way, you’re relieved that Kenma interrupted at the right time. You might have done something you will harrowingly regret afterwards.
“Don’t sweat it, y.n. He just misinterpreted it.” Kuroo’s unusually magnanimous today. It’s strange. He wouldn’t have lived this down on a regular day. Maybe it's because of your no sex relationship? Still, this is aberrant of him. He shouldn’t fail to notice how that last  moan of yours was not of comfort. 
“Right?” He adds, his eyes gauging your own.
So that’s how it is. He is aware. But he’s giving you the option to disregard what just almost happened. You’re relieved, but also confused at the tiny shards of disappointment prickling in your chest. This is what you wanted, for you to avoid sex and Kuroo in the same room. It shouldn’t be confusing.
You look down and break away from the eye contact. You put a hand on your hip and the other on your temple, which then moves to brush your hair back.
With a long, audible puff, you speak.
“Of course, it was nothing,” you return to his gaze with a dry expression to camouflage the lie behind your words. But at the same time, you also wait for him to say something or for his eyes to show something other than indifference. You don’t know what it is you want or expect, but you wait for it. You’ll know it when you see it. 
It doesn’t come though as he shrugs it off like it was nothing. 
Disappointed, that’s what you are. You don’t like the feeling, but you are.
You ring your driver again, hoping that this time he’ll finally answer. If he doesn’t get to you any soon, you’ll be late for your shoot. You can’t be late for this shoot in particular. Mitsuki’s the creative director. She’s a very pleasant one, but she absolutely hates tardiness. No exceptions. She gets all sour and crank when someone’s late. 
The other end of the line picks up. “Ms l/n. I’m so sorry. One of the tires got flat. I need to change it, but I’m still stuck in traffic.”
Of all the days to get a flat tire on a heavy traffic, it had to be this day. You exhale heavily to clear the irritation getting under your skin. 
“How long before you’re here?”
“I think about an hour, Ms.”
You aren’t the type to get mad at hired help, but you’re really in a pinch. In an hour, you should be in hair and make up already, not arriving only then. Mitsuki gets enraged when someone’s 15 minutes late. To be late an hour, you can’t imagine how she’d be. There’s no way you’re going to wait here for an hour.
“Don’t come anymore. Just get it fixed.” You say coldly before you end the call. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. You wouldn’t bother getting a driver if your car hadn’t been acting up recently. Being dumb this morning, you forgot about your busted car and was late in this morning’s meeting with a client. You found yourself brisk walking in heels at the hotel’s lobby earlier just to save yourself from any more delayed minutes. And now, even your driver’s car is jacked up. 
“Y.n?”
You turn around at the recognizable calm voice you heard. It’s Kenma, except he wasn’t alone. Kuroo is right there beside him. It was kind of weird to see them together at this place and both in business wear. 
“What’re you two doing here?” 
“I’m working with Kenma here to sponsor our next promotional video.”
You just stared at the two of them. You’re used to the three of you just fooling around when you’re together. Meeting like this when you’re all in the middle of doing your jobs is something new to you. 
“And who might you be giving a hard time on the phone, hmm y.n.?”
They heard that? They must both be near while you were getting bummed out from being late this morning and potentially late this afternoon. 
“Ah! I need to go. My driver can’t make it. I’m going to be late,” you spiral back to your hectic schedule. “Bye.” You give them a quick wave, and despite your heels, you walk as fast as you could towards the entrance of the hotel. 
You try to hail cabs that were passing by, but almost every cab was occupied. And for some reason, someone always managed to get the empty cabs before you can even spot them. To worsen your luck, it began to rain. You frantically tap your left foot on the concrete as the panic sets in you.
Mitsuki’s gonna kill me.
You bite your lip and contemplate how you’re going to arrive in the venue on time. The answer you found made you turn back on your heels to go back inside the hotel, only to find them already there behind you. 
“You’re here,” you exhale, relieved that they haven’t gone anywhere out of your sight. “I’m in a bind. Can anyone give me a ride?” 
The two men exchanged pithy looks, but you don’t bother figuring out what that could’ve meant. You just need the help you typically won’t ask for since you’re always doing things on your own.
“I can’t. I have a stream coming up. Sorry, y.n.” Kenma first spoke. You shift to Kuroo, hoping that he can give you the time of day. “Yea, sure. Am free for the rest of the day actually.” He says with a brief smile. 
“Oh, thank God!” The panic and nerves were clearing out of your system. Despite the awkwardness of your previous massage fiasco, right now, you’re glad that he can help. 
“Bye, then.” Kenma quickly took his leave as the hotel valet stepped out from his car and handed him his keys. 
“Should we go now?” Kuroo asked. “Aren’t we waiting for your car?” “No. I don’t want strangers handling my car.” “Then why did you go here?”
Amusement shows on his face at your question. “I saw your cute attempt to hail a cab. Is that how rich kids do it? Let someone else steal their ride for them?” You smile sweetly, disgustingly sweet, then roll your eyes before saying, “Let’s just go.”
You told him the location of the shoot. The drive was comfortable as you both share work conversations with your usual banters on the side. Being friends with Kuroo is confusing and reassuring at the same time. With the history you two shared, you need to tread the waters of your friendship carefully every once in a while. If it wasn’t the sexual tension, it was the affection you felt towards him that would sometimes seem like resurfacing. Even with all that, you can’t bear to walk away from what you presently have. You feel like you really found genuine company with him and Kenma.
“We’re here. Let me just get an umbrella.” He looks back to the back seat and stretches his right arm to reach for it. The current angle of his face emphasized his sharp jaw and the length of his neck. You were just thinking how you need to tread carefully, but easier said than done when you know exactly how your fingers have grazed that jaw, how your tongue has tasted that neck, and much more. 
“What’s taking you so long? I might as well get drenched from the rain,” you snap because you can’t stand your own indecent thoughts. 
“Found it.” He says and returns to his normal sitting position. “Why the hell are you suddenly cranky? Geez.” You feel bad for being suddenly grouchy. He was just being nice and you were being nasty for reasons you can’t tell him. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late,” you apologized.
He shrugs it off nonchalantly. “Hey. Where’s my umbrella?” You ask when you see him reaching for the door with only one umbrella in his hand. 
“We’re sharing this. I only have one.”
You purse your lips to the side and sharply avert your eyes elsewhere, your irritation resurfacing again. You feel uncomfortable with the idea of being that physically close to him. You’ve pushed the massage incident behind, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about it. 
“What is up with you? What are you so pissed about?”
“Nothing. Can we go now?”
He stares at you for a good 3 seconds before getting out and opening his umbrella. He moves to your side of the vehicle and opens the door. You get out and try to avoid any raindrops. He closes the door and presses his car keys to lock the vehicle. 
You both start to walk towards the entrance of the place. You’ve never felt more awkward in your life. You’re avoiding getting past the edge of the umbrella while also avoiding Kuroo’s body. 
“Why is your umbrella so small?” 
“The heck are you talkin about? This is the standard size.”
You don’t answer him. The umbrella isn’t small. He’s just huge and his whole body occupied almost all the space under the shade. You flinch when he suddenly grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close, so close that you can feel the firmness of his body pressed onto yours. 
You raise your gaze to him with a raised eyebrow. 
“You’re gonna get wet if we don’t huddle closer.” You could accept his reason, if only you didn’t catch the miniscule curl of his lips and the skittish glint in his eyes. It was so typical of him really. Maybe you should stop being so worked up all the time. 
“Fine.” Even though he was messing you, you can’t deny that it’s much more comfortable. You’re safe from the rain and his body provided heat from the coldness of the downpour.
He doesn’t do or say anything more as you both get to the doorway of the bar where the shoot will be held. He puts down the umbrella when you reach the shade of the building. Before you’re able to get away from Kuroo’s hold, the door opens. Mitsuki was holding her phone to her ear when she met your eyes. 
“I was calling you and you weren’t — oh.” Her eyes flew to the hand on your shoulder and traveled to its owner. “Well, well, y/n. You leave for a good while, then come back loaded.” You can always count on Mitsku to not hold her tongue. You gently release yourself from Kuroo’s hold to avoid looking defensive. “It’s not like that,” was your thrift reply. 
“Kuroo, this is Mitsuki, my creative director for today, sometimes my friend too. Mitsuki, this is Kuroo.” 
Both of them exchange casual greetings for meeting the first time. 
“How come you mention our relationship, but not yours?” referring to you and Kuroo. You sigh. “He’s also a friend.” You turn to Kuroo and thank him for the ride and his time. 
“Is your driver picking you up?” he asked.
You seal your eyes shut at your own stupidity. Because you were panicking and irritated, you sent your driver home. You open them again and purse your lips in a straight line. “No. I’ll just take a cab.”
“With your cab-hailing skills in this rain? Good luck with that.” he snorts. “Haha. Real funny.” From the corner of your eyes, you see Mitsuki with an entertained grin on her face, obviously enjoying the exchange between you and Kuroo. 
“Call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up then.” You want to protest but it will just drag on. You don’t want Mitsuki seeing more of the dynamics of your relationship, so you thriftly say “Okay.”
“Kuroo-san, right?” Both of you shift your attention to Mitsuki. “Actually, we need a male model because the scheduled one today is a total wimp and cancelled last minute.” She shamelessly eyed Kuroo from head to toe. So that’s why she was about to call you. The shoot was cancelled. 
When she looks at you, you mouth the word “no” to let her know that she shouldn’t do what you think she’s about to do. The reaction you got was her smiling widening before speaking to Kuroo. “Do you have an agent? Can we talk over the phone right now to discuss?”
That’s when you step forward. “Uhhh. He’s not a model. He used to be a volleyball player, hence the height and build.” You say defensively. You nudge Kuroo with your elbow so that he’ll back you up, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s just there waiting for Mitsuki’s next words. 
“An athlete, I see.” She nods approvingly. “That’s perfect! I don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s completely up to you then.”
“Errr. I don’t really know anything about modeling. Sorry.”
Your relief was short-lived when she tugs you to her direction and grips both of your shoulders. “Then your friend here can guide you. She’ll be your co-model anyways.” 
He probably figured out by now why you were so apprehensive during the conversation just now. You don’t want him as your co-model. 
His grin just confirmed your thoughts. “I’ll go for it then.” His eyes sparkling with mischief made you surrender. You already admit defeat in your head even though the shoot is just about to start. 
You both get in hair and makeup. Being a woman, you take longer to finish. The clothes the stylists are arranging on you are taking while as well.  They let you wear a very long, elegant gold dress that fits your upper body like your second skin, but the material is flowy from your waist down. When you arrive at the set, he’s already there talking with Mitsuki while waiting for you. Mitsuki notices you first. “Alright! We’re good to go.”
When Kuroo faces you, you almost don’t recognize him. His usual emo bangs were gone. They brushed his hair up cleanly. The suit he was wearing earlier was replaced by gray slacks and white long sleeve polo that has two top buttons open. You have conflicted feelings towards the hair and make up staff that did the work. They did a remarkable job with his overall style. He does look like a model like this. But also, why the hell did they make him look this damn good? The regular Kuroo was bad enough for you.
“This feels weird. I feel like I have too many things on me.” You scowl at his remark. “Too many? Wanna try being a girl?” He’s about to retort but Mitsuki claps twice which calls both of your attention.
“So our client is a liquor brand and the theme is something like wild love at the bar. What I want is you two giving the impression of having a passionate first encounter while you’re out drinking. Give me something and we’ll work it out as we go on, mkay?” 
You knew you’d be working with a male model for this brand, but you didn’t expect that they’d go with something like this. You thought it was just going to be glamour shots to showcase the drink.
But what Mitsuki said, ‘Wild love at the bar’?? That is not something you’d want to be doing with him. It reminded you of the first night you met. 
“I’m all ears on what to do, y/n” His haughty smile doesn’t help the situation one bit. You take a deep breath. This is not the time to muck around. You’re the experienced one, so you’ll be taking the lead. “Swear to me that you’ll take this seriously.” You glare at him, no trails of humor apparent. The change in his demeanor surprised you. You forgot how intimidating he can get when he’s serious. You’re so used to him being an idiot all the time that it catches you off guard. But for today, you’re glad to have it.
You explain to him how the whole shoot will go. For the first shot, you ask a staff member for a chair and tell Kuroo to sit on it. “Get the glass with the liquor and look at the camera while holding it.” He did as you told, except he has this perplexed look on his face with a noticeable discomfort from the way his lips curled in a corner. 
“On second thought, maybe this is a bad idea,” he said after trying the first time. You want to agree with him, but the shoot is already happening. You just want to get over it already since you’re already there. “Nooo. Uh-uh.” Mitsuki’s tone took a sharp turn. She wasn’t happy with what Kuroo said. “Just imagine you’re in a bar, chilling with your favorite drink and you just snagged the hottest girl in the place.” 
“Hottest girl aka me,” you comment on her instruction. That seemed to work because he changed back to his normal self and looked at you with amusement. “Just like the night we met, huh?” He said it low enough for only you to hear, but you still glanced nervously to Mitsuki if she caught any of it.  
“That’s a nice expression, Kuroo! Keep looking at her like that.” You ease up since it looks like she didn’t hear it. You put your elbow on his shoulder and tilt your hips to give your waist an S curve while angling your body towards him at the same time. You lift your chin up a bit and look at the camera with parted lips.
“Yep. Looking good dear.” Mitsuki signals the photographer to start taking the shots. You both slightly alter your angles so the pose will have variations. Sometimes you look at Kuroo, smile flirtatiously at him, or look at the camera in a sultry way. Every time you two would look at each other, you’d ‘cheat’ and look at the bridge of his nose to give the illusion that you’re actually looking at his eye. 
While looking at the shots from a separate screen, she suddenly asks the photographer to stop. You both straighten your bodies while awaiting instructions.  “It looks nice,” she said before looking at your direction. “But it’s boring. There’s nothing wild about it.”  You space out for a bit because for the first time, you don’t know how to proceed. You’re used to fashion shoots and runway. You’ve never had an ad with this theme. “Y.n, dear, can you be a bit aggressive towards him?”
You raise your eyebrow from disbelief. “A-aggressive?”
Mitsuki nods. “Throw yourself at him, dominate him, take control. mkay?” You feel a bit pressured when she’s just looking at you two and waiting for you to start posing for the camera. You don’t have a solid idea in your head, but you just go for it. You try to prop yourself up on the bar counter, but your dress won’t allow you.
Kuroo notices your dilemma and gets up from his seat. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.” He positions himself in front of you and grabs your waist. His hands were strong yet gentle. With your palms still on the surface of the counter, he lifts you up while you put weight on your arms so you can usher yourself properly. You’ve been deliberately avoiding his gaze, but right now, your eyes are glued to his face. 
“Yes. Like that.” You both flick your gaze towards Mitsuki. “Do that.” She instructs the photographer to move the side so the angle of the shot captures you both without him blocking you completely. You realize the position you two have. “I agreed to this to make you uncomfortable, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m the one extremely uncomfortable right now.” Kuroo whispers with a hint of regret on his face. The camera flashes start going off but something clicked between the two of you that you two end up laughing. It’s probably the awkwardness and the nerves that’s been hanging on the air that something so shallow as Kuroo admitting his uneasiness, cracked you both up.
It was just a brief exchange of laughter but you feel relaxed. Even though Mistuki is pretty cool for a creative director, she’s still as serious as any professional. So when you see her smiling as you apologized for the delay, you’re a bit shocked.
“No worries dear. Let’s continue then.”
You feel more confident now. You’re you. The reason you became successful on an international level is because of your professionalism and ability to produce quality results.
From being seated on the counter, you’re a few centimeters taller than Kuroo. That completed the idea in your head. You took the glass drink and placed it on your right hand. “Put your hands on my hips,” you tell him then lightly lift his chin with your index finger, “and look at me like you worship me.” The command earned a raised eyebrow from him but you pay no heed to it.
You extend an arm over his right shoulder, the glass dangling on your fingertips. With your index finger on his chin, you look to the camera with provocative eyes. If anything looks wrong with Kuroo, you’ll just let Mitsuki handle it. After all, she’s the one who asked him to be a part of this. 
“Oh yea! That’s really good.” Compared to before, she looks pleased with the shots now. The pose was captured a few times before she speaks again. “Instead of using your finger, grab his hair to tilt his head back.” You comply immediately and tugs his locks downwards. You might’ve done it a bit rougher than you wanted because you heard a raspy grunt from his throat. You got distracted, so instead of looking at the camera, you look at him. 
You regret it. When you said he should look at you with worship, you didn’t think he’d do it this well. Because his hair is pushed completely all the way back, you see every aspect of his face. Nothing was blocking his eyes that were full of yearning and desire. He’s looking at you like you’re not just the hottest girl in the bar, but the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes one. 
“Pull him closer and look here y.n.” You do as you’re told, thankful that you needed to look somewhere else. “Damn. You two look so good right now.” She gently claps her hands while looking at the monitor.
“I’m already satisfied, but let’s just do one more for another option. Umm, Kuroo. You be the aggressor this time. Y/n, …. you know what to do.” She winks after.
Well, not really you don’t. She just wants you to do the thinking on what to do. You put the glass down and put both your hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?” You ask with an easygoing smile. You don’t want to ruin the momentum of the shoot, so you decide to be nice to him for now. 
 “You got it,” then his hand travels up your waist and guides you down back to the floor. You tell him to lean on the counter. He follows with no complaints. You get his arm and ushers him to wrap it on your waist. When he goes along with your silent instruction, you raise your leg to his side.   
“Tug my skirt up to my thighs.”
He doesn’t react and just squints at you.. “Huh?” Since he did not grasp what you meant, you take it to yourself to do it and slowly gather the material at the ends. Then, you yank it up to your thigh. “Get it?” He whistles as he gets the cloth from your hands. “Hey. Don’t do that. If you’re a real model, you’d be in trouble if I report that behavior.”
“But I’m not a real model, am I?” You glare at his provocation. You won’t be having any of his crap at your workplace. “Kuroo,” you say with a menacing glare and he immediately gets the threat behind it. “My bad, my bad. I’ll behave again, kay? Stop scowling now.” You relax your face and take a deep breath. “Moving on then.” You enclose your left arm on his neck while you plant your right on his chest. You don’t want to direct him any further than this. If this is unsatisfactory, Mitsuki will say something. 
Aaaand she does. “Kuroo-san. Aggressive please. Own her. You don’t want her to get away from you.” Upon hearing Mitsuki’s additional instructions, everything about him intensifies three folds. He pulls you even closer, causing your breath to hitch when his face is dangerously near yours all of a sudden. His sleeves don’t do anything to mask the firmness of his arms. And even with the velvet fabric, you can still the strength of his thighs as they’re pinned on yours. The heat of his hand ignited the skin of your thigh as he clutched the fabric and your flesh forcefully. And his eyes, they no longer worship you. They spoke of something similar, but not quite. 
He wants to devour you whole. 
It was too overwhelming for you, so you look away and close your eyes dramatically to make it seem like you’re being swept away in the moment. After one camera flash, “Okay dear, but I need you to look at him this time.”
The few seconds of breaking away from his fiery stare did you some good. You were able to collect yourself again, but not enough to truly look at him. You just focus your gaze right between his eyes as you did earlier.  
“Nooo. When I said look at him, I meant really look at him. Respond with your own passion. You’re looking a bit of a scared vegetable right now, honey.” You’ve never had feedback like that in forever. Maybe when you tried modeling the first few months, you received something similar to that. But never when you started doing it full time. 
You don’t want to, but you have to. You finally meet his gaze and tap into something inside yourself that you’ve been holding back. You let your desire for him deluge you, let it surge through your veins until you’re aching for him. You push yourself even closer to him, not allowing even air to pass between your bodies. 
“Yes! YES! You want him so much, but you shouldn’t.” 
It was just as she said. You want him so much, so much that it almost hurts. You part your lips slightly as you get lost in the moment.
“Oh my God.” Her words sounded distant. It was there. You can hear it, but what clouded your senses was your heart pounding hard against your chest, his hot breath mingling with yours, and the way his eyes are now devoted to your lips. Not long after, he angles his face so that your lips are almost touching. Just a tiptoe and a kiss will already take place. You clench your fingers on his shirt, holding yourself back from that one tiny push that will allow you to feel his lips on yours again. 
“Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT! That was it. That was the money shot.” Mitsuki’s shrill voice which was followed by her squeal broke the trance you were in. You know what she meant. The shoot is done. Yet, you still feel hot. The heated atmosphere around you two still hasn’t caved in. He let go of your thigh as you put some space away from him. You settle your hands on his shoulders while you rest your forehead on his chest. He doesn’t move either. His hand remains on your waist, but without the force this time. With his other hand, he caringly skims the curve of your shoulder. 
“You okay, kitten?”
His voice is so gentle, you nearly convince yourself that it sounded loving. You nod weakly before heading back to the dressing room without saying anything. 
Kuroo’s gaze followed your back as you disappeared. He was amazed but also bothered at what just happened. You looked really into it, like you really wanted him. If the shoot didn’t finish any sooner, he might have closed that tiny gap that separated your lips from his. He’s been aching for you for so long that his control is slipping inch by inch every time there’s an opportunity to cross that line of friendship you set. When he saw you let go and completely relent within his hold, it was maddening at how he couldn’t have you at the moment. What’s worse is that even without the glamorous set, he knows you’re still not his to have. 
He walks towards the room where his clothes were hung and changes back to his usual suit. He asked the make up staff to remove everything on his face. He doesn’t like the feeling of having a layer of cosmetics on his skin. The hair they couldn’t do anything about because they used a lot of product to fix it up. 
When he gets out of the room, Mitsuki approaches him with a satisfied look on her face
“You did so well for someone with no experience at all. Do you have a card? I can hook you up for other gigs. You’ll do great.”
He smiles graciously at her generous offer, but he doesn’t want it. “Sorry, but I’m not really interested. I only did it cause it was her.” He said truthfully. Mitsuki’s mouth curled in amusement. “You know, y.n’s really good to work with. She always had this cool facade that never went down, and it works for her. We love her for it. But today,” she pauses as she gives him a meaningful look. “I’ve never seen her show such vulnerability and rawness. It was,” she sighs with admiration for you.
“Beautiful, wasn’t it?” He knows exactly what she’s saying. After all, he has seen several times how captivating your authenticity can be. 
“Soo, are you two dating or what?” Her eyebrows twitch up and down from anticipation at what he’s about to answer. He badly wants to say yes, but he doesn’t have that luxury. “Naaah. Like she said, I’m just a friend.”
She’s obviously dissatisfied with his response. He is too, but that’s the lousy truth. Out of the blue, she takes her phone out. “Too bad though. You two looked really good here.” She showed him the photo and it was you and him earlier. You were seated in the counter with your arms on his shoulders and his hands on your waist. It was when you were both laughing at his stupid statement.
“Can you send me that photo?”
“Why should I?”
He’s well aware of what she’s trying to do. It’s a business transaction, except for the lack of formality. She wants to get something in return, and he knows exactly what it is. 
“You’re good.” He admits with an impressed glint in his eyes.
“I am. So what’ll it be?” He knows that she knows she has the upperhand of the negotiation. She could probably tell that there’s something going on with the two of you. It’s just a matter of deciding which information to give her. But he didn’t have the fortune of having too many options. He didn’t want to reveal the nature of your relationship before. He wasn’t sure of your feelings for him. He can only speak for himself. 
“Fine. I sorta like her.” 
Her eyes brighten up. “Aha! I knew it. You should totally ask her out, kay? You’re gonna have tall and beautiful babies.” She put one hand on her cheek and closed her eyes while screeching at her own daydream of you and him getting together. When she calms down, she sends you the image file. “For real though. I’ve never seen her like that,” she points to your dazzling face in laughter in the photo. 
“Hey. What’re you two talking about?” You’re back to your normal clothes, but your hair and makeup was still there. 
“Nothing. Let’s go now?” He spoke immediately before your nosy director could say something. He walks to your direction before heading out together. “Bye! Update me, Kuroo-san!” Mitsuki said as she waved goodbye. You couldn’t help but be curious on what he should update her about. 
The rain stopped so no more umbrella horseplay. When you both get inside his car, you immediately ask him, “What was that about?”
“Uhh. She asked if I wanted to do other modeling projects.”
“Do you?”
He didn’t hesitate before answering, “No. That sort of stuff is not for me. I only did it to piss you off.” He starts the engine, then pivots his body to face you. “I must say though. I enjoyed seeing you eyefuck me.” Just when you are getting used to the peaceful, non-smug Kuroo, his true personality kicks right back in. Good thing you took your time getting changed and basically just calmed yourself down. 
“Glad you did. That’s the most you can get from me after all.”
His smile turned upside down at your remark. “Tch.” Your lips tug upwards at the side from his lack of retaliation. 
“I haven’t told you yet, but it wasn’t my first modeling experience.” 
You’re a bit surprised. Even though he has the appearance of a model, you didn’t think he’d do it. You agree with what he said just a while ago. It wasn’t for him. He’s best at his job right now. 
He gets his phone and scrolls up. He must be looking for a photo to show you as proof. When you see his screen, your heart swells. It was you and him a year ago. The neckline of your shirt was pulled to your shoulder for a makeshift off-shoulder while he knotted his t-shirt to form a crop top. You two wore large smiles while posing silly in front of the cam. It was right after when you told him that you’re a model.
“I- you... umm. You kept these?” You swipe the screen and see every single photo you took that day. Not one was deleted. You remember the laughter and absurd joy behind each frame. 
“Yea. Why wouldn’t I?”
One more swipe and there’s no other photo after yours. That’s when you notice that the photos are in the Favorites album. You felt like you were about to tear up. You’ve never felt so cherished in your whole life. Even though you left without saying a proper goodbye and no indication of going back, he still kept them. You tried so hard to forget about him, yet there he was, keeping these small tokens of what you had - proof that you really had been a part of his life.You felt something inside you crumble piece by piece. You should be scared, but at the moment, you don’t feel any fear. Instead, you were enraptured. 
You can feel your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin is. You don’t bother hiding it from him. 
“Can you send these to me?” You turn to him with the smile still plastered on your face, but he frowns at your question. 
“Those photos came from you.” 
You look back at his phone, your big smile reduced into a faint one that’s traced with melancholy. “I deleted them when I went to the US.” If he asks why, you wouldn’t know how to answer. Fortunately, he doesn’t. He gets his phone back from your hand and fiddles with it a bit. A few seconds later, you hear a notification from your own phone. When you open it, all the photos are sent to you. 
He looks at you warmly, his face devoid of anything but heartfelt fondness. “There. Like you never got rid of them.”
---
You lie on your bed with bottomless thoughts that night. Kuroo’s words weighed more than they should in your head as you stare at the photos. 
You deleted them to completely erase any trace of his existence in your life. Now they’re back in your phone with not a single photo missing from the stack. Ironically, it’s also you who asked for them back. Yet, you don’t mind. You came to accept that those memories existed. They happened. There’s no use trying to forget they did when he’s already back in your life anyways.
Looking at you and Kuroo in the images, you can’t avoid thinking how simple those times were. You were just two cool people who had sex for fun. You had no clue things would happen as they did - falling for him, leaving, and for some reason - destiny or whatever, meeting him again. The past you tried to leave behind crept up to you and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
You thought you’ve moved on. You’ve thoroughly convinced yourself that you’ve disposed of all unnecessary emotions that involved Kuroo. You thought that whatever it is that you felt when you met him again was just remnants of yesterday. You were so wrong. That‘s just what you tried to tell yourself, repeating the idea over and over in your head until you believed it. 
But it never really happened. You haven’t forgotten about him. When you went on dates in the U.S., you’d remember him. So you stopped trying to see anyone and attributed that to being scared of getting hurt again. Hence, you shut yourself out to anyone until you no longer found dating to be interesting. You told yourself getting in a relationship would just get in the way of your career. 
That wasn’t true. 
The truth is just as he said. Your feelings for him are still there, you never did get rid of them. The question now is how to proceed from here.
You jerk when your phone rings right at your hand. 
‘Kuroo’
You don’t want to answer it. You basically just admitted to yourself that you’re still in love with him. Hearing his voice right now would be dangerous for your fragile heart.
But it might be something important. He doesn’t usually call.
You press the answer button. You were about to say hello, but your heart was beating so fast that you were unable to get any word out.
“Hello?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat so you could speak. “Yeah?”
“Is something wrong? You sound a bit off?” How he could tell even through a phone call is unbelievable. “Everything’s fine. Why’d you call anyways?” You do your best to sound normal. “Block your Thursday next week. I’m throwing a party.”
“What for?”
“Mmm. Just felt like having one.”
You minimize the call to check your calendar if you had any plans that day. “Alright. I have an event in the morning, but that night’s free.”
“Nice!!” He sounded a bit too glad. 
“Is that why you called?” It’s a bit suspicious that he rang you just for that. It’s just a party. He could’ve texted you instead. 
“Why? Am I not allowed to call when I want to?” Your heart skips a beat from the playful tone in his voice. You picture him smirking on his phone while he’s lying in bed. You bite your lip at the image in your head. 
Screw you and your stupid imagination. 
“Good night, Kuroo.” You said dismissively. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything else important anyways. He chuckles from the other line before speaking so ever softly with tenderness that gives you butterflies in your stomach.
“Good night, kitten.” 
It was just a simple good night but you were reeling. You fight the smile that was forcing itself to form on your lips. You look at your photos one more time and sigh. 
You are so in love with him. 
On the other end, Kuroo is all smiles to himself. Nothing beats hearing your voice after a long day. Once again, he stares at the photo Mitsuki gave him that afternoon. He wishes it was real. He wishes you were smiling for him, laughing with him, and happy with him. If only you gave any indication that you like him more than a friend, he would’ve made his move. 
Even though he knows you still desire him, he wouldn’t settle for just sex. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. He wants something further than that and more importantly, you deserve better than that. But so far, he could tell you were enjoying the friendship and companionship only. Even if he wanted to take things forward, he’s not sure that that’s what you want. You haven’t given anything away for him to make his move. He doesn’t want to risk it and have you running for the hills. 
Will he ever make you fall for him? Should he just leave things as is or do something bolder for you to realize that to him, you’re not just a friend?
He sighs. 
He’s so in love with you.
Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list
taglist: @lia-faerie-queen​ @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @babythotshq​ @arendizzle​
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khoicesbyk · 3 years
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A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*
Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.
Current Word Count: 1,970 words.
Prompt Time! Since this is what consider to be a Drabble I’m using @wackydrabbles Prompt #77 “I didn’t mean to worry you.” It’ll be in bold in black.
Song And Story Inspiration: Fallen (Video Edit)-Mya | Break Of Dawn-Michael Jackson
Tag List: @lifeaskim @choiceslady @pixie88 @lucy-268 @bebepac @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles
If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you. 😁😘
This story is ongoing as the game chapters are released weekly. So as soon as I read them (or reread the latest chapter), I’ll write the chapters to this story.
This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!
Chapter 1.) Call Of The Wolf.
It had been a 3rd straight week of weird dreams for Naia Evans. She would wake up in a cold sweat, a racing heartbeat and goosebumps on her skin. And like clockwork she would lay in bed staring up at the ceiling for 2 hours. And when she was never able to go back to sleep, she would put on jogging shorts and a tank top and go for an early morning run to clear her head.
All of her dreams started after she did research about her mom’s hometown of Hunt’s Peak West Virginia. She wanted to know more about it. Because every time she asked her mother about Hunt’s Peak, her mother immediately shut her down. She was all but forbidden to mention it, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to learn more.
She would look up Hunt’s Peak on Google and see pictures of the forest, mountains and the town square. She would think of meeting the uncle she never knew. But mostly, she wondered why her mother left a seemingly sleepy town in a mountainous area.
After her early morning run, Naia hopped in the shower then got ready for work.
Life for her was as normal as it gets.
She was born Naia Michelle Evans on October 30th 1988 in Raleigh North Carolina to Laurie and Shane Evans. And being an only child, she was spoiled rotten, especially by her daddy. She had a good job as an interior designer. But she wasn’t so lucky in the love department though. After two failed relationships, Naia was back to living at home with her parents in the Washington D.C. area. Although in some way, she felt somewhat unfulfilled. She felt like there was always something missing but could never figure out what it was or why she felt that way.
After coming home from a long day of work, she was in the shower. After the bathroom filled with steam and she stepped inside the shower, she heard a voice.
“Beloved.”
It was a man's voice. One she’d heard for weeks now.
“Come.”
“No.”
She leaned against the shower wall.
“Go away!” She whined.
“Come home.”
She groaned and closed her eyes trying to block it out.
“Come to me…”
When she opened her eyes, the voice was gone. It was just her and a hot shower. She showered, changed into her pajamas then climbed into bed and went to sleep and began to dream. In her dream is where she saw a wolf.
But she wasn’t scared. Strangely, she was calm even a little bit curious. She watched its fur bristle as it walked towards her. As it got closer, she saw its beautiful eyes.
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They were golden and bored into her. When she reached out to touch the wolf, it changed into a man. He was what she always known as tall, fine and chocolate. But the one thing that struck her were his eyes. They were just as golden as the wolf’s eyes.
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He reached out a hand and she took it. Soon she was in his arms, looking up at him. She felt safe, wanted, needed and desired. She felt his strength and passion while she stood in his arms. She reached up to touch his face and watched him lean into her touch. He looked real. And when he kissed her, he felt real. Her knees felt weak and her body temperature skyrocketed. She needed him just as much as he needed her. Her body yearned for him. Her heart raced. And when their kiss ended, she was dizzy.
It felt real to her. She wanted more, especially after seeing his golden eyes. She felt a connection with this dream man and couldn’t explain it.
“Touch me…” she begged.
He tilted her chin up then whispered, “soon Beloved. Very soon we’ll be together.”
She woke up gasping for air right after those words were uttered. Breathing heavy, heart pounding in her chest and in a cold sweat with goosebumps all along her arms. Just like many nights before but this time was different. Because her body felt like it was on fire. Craving to be touched but not just by anyone. Her body craved him and his touch. When her heart stopped racing and her breathing calmed down she checked to see what time it was.
4:45am.
That’s the time her phone read after she woke up.
She sighed to herself and laid back down then eventually went back to sleep. Dreaming of his golden eyes. As weird as that dream was to her, she wanted it again. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to feel his arms around her again. She wanted to kiss him again.
Later that morning after breakfast she was in the kitchen, having a conversation with her daddy about Hunt’s Peak.
“I don’t know why you won’t but I wish you would drop this, Naia.”
“Daddy you know why I can’t.”
“Naia I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“You and mama never do! It’s like you’re ashamed to tell me anything!”
“There’s a reason for that! Just leave it alone!”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
Just then her mother walked into the kitchen and their conversation.
“Because it’s better for you to never know. Baby I know you want to know but it’s nothing that concerns you!” Her mother snapped at her.
“But mom!” She began to protest.
“No! No more! This conversation is over, Naia!”
Once again her mother shut her down.
“You two are absolutely impossible!” She fussed.
Her mother sat down at the kitchen table and looked at her daughter.
“Trust me baby, I’m doing what I know best.”
“And what is that mama?” Naia asks.
“I’m protecting you!” Her mother replies.
“From what? What could be so bad about a small sleepy town?” Naia asks.
Her mother took a deep breath before she spoke.
“When I was 18 something terrible happened. And I told people. But no one believed me. They said I was lying. That it couldn’t have happened. The people in that town said I was exaggerating the truth. So I packed up and left and I never looked back. That town and those people are dangerous. And I am telling you to stay away from it and them.”
Naia’s eyes went wide.
“Oh my God! Mama were you?” She asked in a panicked voice.
“No I wasn’t sweetie.” Laurie replied.
“But what about your brother?” Naia asks her.
Laurie scoffed and replied, “ohhh you mean the coward, who wouldn’t protect his only sister?”
Naia went quiet.
“Listen to me baby. You are a grown woman. More than capable of doing any and everything you set your brilliant mind to. You can be anything from being an architect like your daddy to a nurse like me, hell I can even see you being the next and first black female president. Hell for all I care you could even be a drug dealer both legally and illegally. As long as you apply yourself and you enjoy it. But this? I can’t allow this. Now I can’t tell you how to live your life or what to do with it. But what I am telling you is this: you are NOT to go anywhere near Hunt’s Peak! Do I make myself clear?” Her mother asks.
“Yes mama. I understand.” Naia replies.
Her father cleared his throat then spoke in a stern tone.
“Naia baby, your mama and I love you more than we could ever tell you. And we are only trying to protect you. Hunt’s Peak isn’t the friendly place you’re thinking that it is. I am begging you to listen to your mother. Hunt’s Peak is no good. So trust us when we say that you are NOT to go there!”
Naia knew she wasn’t going to win this argument.
“Okay. I’ll drop it.” She said to her parents.
Laurie reached out and took Naia’s hands in her own.
“Good. I know you think that we’re not being fair but sweetheart you have to trust us. Especially me. Because if something were to ever happen to you because of those people and town, I would never forgive myself. So you need to drop this once and for all.”
“Yes mama.”
Her mother kissed the side of her forehead.
“Thank you baby. Now if you don’t mind I have an anniversary trip to finish packing for.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” She asked.
Her father scoffed then replied, “we barely want you in the house so no. You’re not going.”
“But daddy it’s Paris! I’ve always wanted to go to Paris!” Naia whined.
“And one day you will go to Paris. Just not today.”
They all laughed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Her father stood then wrapped her up in his signature bear hug.
“Baby we know that you’re curious about your mom’s hometown but it’s safer for you to just let it go.”
“I promise I won’t bring it up anymore.”
“Good. Now what are you gonna do while your mother and I are gone?” Shane asks.
“Netflix, Hulu and takeout. Ohh and maybe porn.” Naia replied.
“NO!”
Naia chuckled.
“I just wanted to see what your reactions would be.”
“Laurie…get your child!”
“Ohhh so NOW she’s my child? Any other damn time you’d be willing to fight me to claim her!”
The rest of her Saturday went on as it usually does. But that night was anything but usual. After drifting off to sleep, Naia began to dream. And in her dream she saw him and his golden eyes. She was happy to see him and he was happy to see her. She couldn’t run into his open arms fast enough.
“I missed you.” She said to him.
She could feel his arms tighten around her, lovingly and protectively.
“I’ve missed you too, Beloved.”
“It’s time, Beloved.”
“Time for what?” She asks.
“Time for us to be together. It’s time for you to come home. To come and be at my side.” He replies.
“Where are you?” She asks.
He looked deep in her eyes then replied, “Hunt’s Peak.”
“I can’t. I promised my parents that I wouldn’t.”
“We are destined for each other Beloved.”
“But I…”
He silenced her with a kiss so powerful that it made her body weak.
“Come to me. Be with me. Answer the call.”
She woke up soon thereafter. She sat up in her bed and it became clear to her: she had to answer the call.
She HAD TO go to Hunt’s Peak. She had to find him. She had to be with him. So she made a plan to go to Hunt’s Peak. She knew it was a risk and she knew that she was disobeying her parents. But she knew that she had to take it. She needed to know. She had to know.
The next day she set her plan in motion. She waited until after her parents left for the airport, before she packed up her personal items, loaded them into her SUV and left her parents a note before leaving.
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“Dear Mama and Daddy,
I’m sorry to write this but I’m going to Hunt’s Peak. I have to go, so please don’t be mad at me. Please forgive me. I love you. Again I’m sorry.”
After driving for several hours, she checked into a Days Inn on the outskirts of town to rest before she continued on.
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She was sitting on the bed, blow drying her hair after stepping out of the shower, when there was a knock at her door. When she opened the door, her jaw hit the floor. It was him. She couldn’t believe that he was real and he was looking at her.
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birdsaesthetic · 3 years
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“You are more than one mistake”
Summary: Late night talk, between Jane and weller, addressing something that has been bothering the two for awhile...
A/N: I’ve always wanted to write angst for Jeller, and so for me this writing is something... big? Because, ugh, it wasn’t easy to execute or to make it sound convincing, and that’s why it took me a while, months, on and off, but finally... Also, this actually is inspired by Taken for Granted written by @indelibleevidence that I truly enjoyed reading a long time ago, and I hope, one day, I can read its ending! So now this discusses the same issue—when Jane cheated on Kurt on the run—and takes the same place. But this’s obviously shorter and differently handled. I hope you enjoy it. (Now to make this feel better, or worse, or just more interesting, you can listen to If Our Love Is Wrong by Calum Scott while reading.)
______
It’s a little before midnight, during October, when Kurt calls it a day, reaches the bed, pulls his shirt over his head, and lies down, his head loaded with unpleasant thoughts. He’s left the bedroom door open a crack behind him, then adjusted the light on the dimmest setting it could possibly go without being completely off; a slight indication of respect he managed to demonstrate for his wife to notice when she comes. Soon.
After having done her simple night routine, Jane joins Kurt in the bedroom, worryingly surveying her surroundings as she mulls over her next move, which’s approaching the bed in the semidarkness. From her point of view, Kurt is lying still on his side and the blanket is pulled up to just below his ear. His breathing can’t be any quieter, and if someone took a glimpse of him, they would say he’s in a deep sleep. But Jane is certain he isn’t just yet. He, in fact, is just pretending, like he’s been doing for the past five days and twenty-some hours. Yes, Jane has counted every day that’d passed ever since he decided doing this, which meets with the same day when she came back to him with good intentions and forgave him, and told him that she wanted love back in her life—technically, wanted him back in her life.
Today, however, she isn’t surprised like before, not at all, but rather disappointed to have seen him do such behaviors yet another night, giving her the cold shoulder when it’s bedtime.
Once settled in bed beside him, it takes Jane a moment of hesitation before she places a hand over his shoulder that’s covered with the blanket, and then whispers his name sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes a little. Yet, he doesn’t bother to turn around, or even reply. He only sighs, and after what? After nearly a full minute.
It isn’t in him to have done that, not welcoming her in, or to have given her his back in the first place. She remembers how, some days before she had to go on the run, he used to carry her in his arms around the apartment to their bedroom while she laughed and fussed, saying that it was lame what he was doing, that she wasn’t a new bride anymore. But only judging from the sound of her laughters, vibrant and light, Kurt knew how she enjoyed it to the point of bursting. He also used to await her when she sometimes used extra more minutes in the bathroom before bedtime.
But ever since she came back, he hasn’t been himself; she can’t recognize this person she’s been living with, sleeping with and eating with every day. Now he's apathetic, especially toward her, and so distant that at times she can’t feel like he's right here and so close enough to touch. She acknowledges that he’s suffering, of course he is, both of them are, but the way he deals with it makes more damage than necessary. And all it seems, he’s doing it intentionally. She finds it so hard now to talk to him the way she used to, casually and teasingly, without having to be cautious with every word spoken.
Jane’s thought, this only is a matter of time until they find their way back together. After all, what they underwent is tragic, distracting even. She’s having troubles swallowing it herself, up until this day, and he must feel the same, but hopefully not permanently. Now both of them need a recovery. No human is ever capable of processing this much easily. Recovery needs time, will, and support.
Support, in the bathroom Jane paused for a moment and pondered on the simple word. She repeated it over and over in her head, as if trying to get to the bottom of its deepest meaning. Like a sudden flash of light in the dark, hope abruptly sprung in her chest. At that very moment she jumped to her feet and raced out to make her way to Kurt, who now is still putting his back to her.
“Can you get up so we can talk?” She asks, politely, and sweetly, as if talking to a kid. He does as asked then, finally turning around to face her.
Then, she turns on the lamp on the table beside her, to which Kurt frowns, showing absolute displeasure at the sudden brightness of the light. The entire time her eyes watch him, worry and anticipation brimming in them. It takes time for Kurt’s eyes to adjust to the new setting of light, but once that happens, he finally holds her gaze.
For a moment, she’s speechless, while his eyes dart back and fourth, drawing her closer to them—technically, closer to him. She crawls little by little to him, until his rigid knee brushes against hers beneath the blanket. Right after that she sneaks a hand down in search of his hand. She grips on it, then regrips, gaining confidence from the right amount of warmth his skin has.
This time she needs to take a different approach in attempts to work this through, she thinks, maybe ask him something he can’t deny, because every time she’d asked him, let’s say, if he was okay or if there was something bothering him of some kind, she was never given the proper or convincing answer—she’d hear him mumble that he was just tired, then he’d go silent until his silence stretched so long that Jane would get past being able to fill it again!
Now, a little self-conscious, she begins, “Have you noticed that we haven’t kissed nor done anything together for almost a week now?” She can’t tell him that precisely, ‘for five days and twenty-some hours’ or else she would’ve sounded so pathetic to him that she’s been counting all these days and hours. It isn’t something she’s proud of, or wants to hear out loud anyway.
Kurt’s response is immediate, and short. “Yes, I have.”
“Are you okay with it? Because I’m not.” She shakes her head, just slightly, to emphasize her disapproval.
“No, I’m not okay with it either,” Kurt admits. His right hand, after having been aching him to do something, rises up and tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, then it takes its sweet time trailing down her neck. Before long, Jane is leaning to his touch, eyes falling close, and pressing her lips tightly together so she won’t moan out loud, despite he’s barely ever done anything. Judging from the way Jane is desperately leaning some more forward until her forehead smacks against his own, and the way her heartbeat is elevated... it sadly shows how it’s been a while since the two have been this close together.
After she finally captures his lips, Kurt doesn’t seem to allow her to go deeper. He, instead, begins playing with her bottom lip, before which she flutters her eyes open, molten, so blown out with lust that she can barely make out the red from the black in this very moment. She wants to drown in him, right now, right here, and she wants him to drown in her, is all.
Her arms curl up around his neck to make him impossibly close, then she gets herself up on his lap and starts pushing herself against him, wanting him to fall apart for her. wanting to redeem all those long five days and twenty-some hours that she couldn’t kiss him nor touch him this way. But the second Jane’s hand lowers and braces his own on her breast over the cloth, wanting more, Kurt adds, “but I’m not okay with what you’ve done, sweetheart.”
She’s completely caught off guard to have heard that—though barely heard it, because his voice was low, as if he was revealing a secret. She pulls back then, swallows, and looks at him through narrowed eyes while he looks at her with a face set like stone.
“What? What have I done, Kurt?” She fumbles in the words, her hands froze still around his shoulders, which makes him chuckle against her face. “Really, Jane, you do the thing and then forget about it this easily?”
Frowning and taking her hands off him, she asks with a serious expression, “Kurt, can you talk clearly, please?”
“I really don’t have the heart to, not right now.” He pretends that he’s tired, yawning, which makes her purse her lips at how immature that seems of him. “So you just want to ignore me now, for whatever that is you assume I’ve done? Is that how we have dealt with things before?” Her voice might have got louder, sharper, but her face is still soft looking at him. “It’s not really in you to be doing that, Kurt. That’s not you! I don’t know who you’re anymore! You’ve become so cold...”
By now she’s completely off his lap, having distanced herself from him, feeling a little touchy towards him and the way he just acted—the way he’s been acting, actually. Next, when she’s about to leave the bed, therefore obviously leave the whole room for him, Kurt retorts, “And I don’t know who you’re anymore, Jane, to know that you have been sleeping with that guy out there, while I was here all alone spending every second of the past year and a half looking for you, thinking of you, and worrying about you!”
She stares at him, stunned, again completely caught off guard to have heard that. “Kurt...” she tries to say something, but he’s continuing, “Everything I owned—everything I thought we owned together—I spent it trying to look for you, and you were with someone else! How is that fair for me!”
“Kurt, listen, it was one time and it meant absolutely nothing.” With a shaky voice, she tries to soothe him.
“Oh really! It meant nothing? Then why did you meet with him once again when you left me here the other week, saying you needed some time alone? He must’ve been better than me and so maybe you wanted to do it again—“
She snaps at once, pointing an index finger at him, “No, Kurt, you don’t get to say this about me! I’ve only asked him for help, because you lied to me, remember? and I couldn’t trust you at the time.”
“Oh, don't act all wounded, Jane.” He winces that she brought up the subject he loathes the most. “We were lied to, both of us, by your brother and daughter. And whatever I did, all from the start, me going all the way to Berlin, has been to look for you, Jane, because I was madly missing you, while you were... My intention has never been to hurt you.”
“keeping the truth from me hurt me nonetheless, Kurt. But I decided to forgive you and forget all that, right away, because for me you’re more than one mistake.”
It makes him swallow, what she just said, then makes him unable to blink as she continues, “But if you’re going to judge me over a mistake I’ve made while I was so lonely, so vulnerable... and if we’re going to circle around the same circle we have once in the past, I promise you, Kurt, it truly is not worth it for both of us.”
He looks at her for a long moment, her words starting to sink into his head and changing his expression to something softer. He begins to rub his eyes in exhaustion. “The thought of you with someone else, I can’t get it out of my head. And the sleepless nights I spent alone... make me angry at you and... unable to look at you.” He confesses, his voice lower, seemingly straggling and wanting help.
Jane senses that, of course, and approaches him a little with a light hand over his bare shoulder. “I want you to know that I feel guilty about it, and that I’m sorry. I also want you to know that it absolutely meant nothing. It was mindless, stupid... It’s you that I closed my eyes and thought of every night before my sleep. It’s you that I wished I were with, badly. And it’s you that I fought for and stopped whatever I was doing and left right away, not making it get any farther.”
He listens to her thoroughly, as she talks, with his eyes tracking her face, bouncing from feature to feature, then his hand lies nicely upon her thigh, which feels tensed, a bit cold. He believes all she said, it’s no question, though as he already said, he just can’t get the thought of her with someone else out his damn head that easily, and doesn’t even know for how long he’s going to resist that... though he knows himself well and knows how difficult it’s for him to deal with such matters: forgiving and forgetting things.
He again lowers his head, because it’s hard to look at her, and it’s been ever since she came back. Ever since he knew about it. Though the feeling of his hand now laying over her thigh as her bare skin gets warmer under his touch, is good. He likes it. He misses it. He even doesn’t intend to let go of it any time soon, just like she doesn’t intend to do with her hand, having it over his shoulder.
It takes him some time to think, and some effort to push away that ugly image in his head, during which it’s so quiet around them, since she’s only holding her breath and he’s only thinking.
“If you you want me gone so you can think this through, have your own space, it’s okay, Kurt, I’ll leave for—“
“Absolutely not.” He rushes to say, shaking his head in disapproval while his hand presses a little harder against her thigh to keep her in place as if she meant that she’d actually leave right way. But no, she didn’t mean that, and of course won’t do such a thing if he doesn’t want her to. So she stays in place, beside him, then, little by little, she crawls closer to him over their bed until she feels brave enough to hold his face firmly up and looks him directly in the eye so that there’s no way for him to look away, or even down.
Eyes red, he has to look at her tiredly. At this given moment, he’s blaming himself but not her. Why can’t he just let things go and move on? Why does he suck at that? She looks so sorry now, she’s apologized and meant it, and things seem to be falling into the right place after having been unbalanced over the last weeks. But still...
When she brings his forehead against hers, so softly that he gives in to her touch, she whispers, “You’re the one that I love, always have and always will.” She pauses for a bit, only to  kiss his lips for a long moment, then whispers again, “I love you, Kurt.”  Pulling back, she looks up at him, who clearly seems so tired by now. So spent. Doesn’t even seem to have a reaction to what she just said. Not that it means nothing to him. But Jane immediately figures that he just can’t do this anymore, talking.
“You look tired, sorry I dragged you... You better sleep now.” She mumbles, turns off the lamp on her nightstand, then puts him down in bed with such care, before she lies close to him, facing him, thinking that he might need it, the assurance. And it surprises her when he, possessively, hugs her close to him and buries his face in her neck, though she doesn’t mind the surprise. Really. She smiles, rather sadly for all that had to happen, feeling so glad to have him this close for now.
In the silence, Jane whispers her love to him repetitively to redeem all the days that passed during which she couldn’t say it, because it would’ve sounded weird, or out of nowhere, while now it feels the most beautiful, natural thing in the world to say. As for Kurt, he only hugs her somehow tighter and doesn’t say anything. Sometimes—such as this time—Kurt can be someone who eschews words in favor of touch—a hug, like this, with all his might.
For a while Jane keeps dotting kisses over his forehead, soothing out the creases there that have been building up from stress, and before she knows it, he’s fast asleep in her arms, snorting lightly. She kisses him one, long and final kiss there, as if the night had just began, then closes her eyes in attempts to get some sleep and wake up to a promising morning.
22 notes · View notes
tomiokai · 4 years
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Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts || Spencer Reid
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A/N: This is a fic I have wanted to write for a long time, and I have read this concept a whole bunch of times from different fandom so it isn’t my original idea. Kudos to whoever made this idea first, I love it, but I did want to write one with my own twist. So yeah, enjoy. I don’t drink so bare with me. Maybe a happy part two, possibly. 
Please don’t copy my works, but if you do want to use it as inspiration please give me credit, at least tag me. I do read a lot and when I see my ideas getting stolen and then turned into new stories it really hurts me.
Summary: After Y/n and Spencer’s one-sided breakup, Y/n gets drunk on their breakup anniversary and calls Spencer and admits that she still loves him and that she is mothering his child. This is after prison Spencer so he isn’t as nice!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Category: Angst
Warnings: Angst. Not a happy ending, I really wanted it to be a happy ending but life sucks so whatever. Alcohol obviously. Have your tissues ready if you are sensitive. Swearing. 
Word Count: 3.2k
_
“I’m sorry Y/n but I don’t love you anymore. Everything about us is just so complicated. We’re always fighting and arguing, and my job is very stressful and time-consuming, our fire burned out a long time ago and we just don’t belong together anymore. I just can’t do this with you, I’m sorry and I hope you’ll find someone else and please forgive me one day” 
Those were the words that ended our 2-year relationship. Spencer didn’t love me anymore. He left me standing there in the rain outside of the BAU, 10 o’clock at night, in the dark, alone. He walked away from me, from our child that he didn’t even know about, I was going to tell him but he left before I could. And I knew that if I told him about our child I would burden him with our child. With me. 
Of course the team was devastated when they were informed that we had broken up.
 Garcia, JJ, Emily, and I still hang out regularly, we would go to nightclubs, and bars and all sorts of fun places together, we never lost our connection with each other. Spencer was a topic that was never brought up when we hung out, but when he was the whole mood would be killed. 
Rossi and I would meet up every second Saturday of the month and we would have a nice dinner together and talk, nothing romantic, only a father-daughter relationship. He was also the godfather to Spencer and I’s child. And of course Penelope was the godmother, it was a tough decision between the girls, but since Penelope had the least dangerous part of the job she was the best choice.  
Henry Y/l/n Reid was the beautiful baby boy I had given birth to on October 31 weighing 7.6 pounds. A coincidence to say the least, it was on Spencer’s favorite holiday. He took up almost all of Spencer’s facial features, only leaving Henry with my y/h/c hair, and plump lips. He looked too much like Spencer, anyone who looked at Henry would immediately assume he was Spencer’s. When I was in labor, practically the whole team came rushing to the hospital leaving Spencer alone at the BAU for a few hours. I had made everyone keep it a secret to not tell Spencer until I decided too and so when they had gone back they all had their own excuses. It has been two years since our breakup, I had raised him myself, along with the girls, and Rossi. It was hard being a single mother, 2-year-old Henry had definitely inherited Spencer’s genius brain and had on multiple occasions asked where his daddy was. Every time the answer would be, “Daddy has a very busy job and doesn’t have time, he travels a lot, but he’s coming back really soon”.  And that was how it went every single day for two years. 
On many occasions JJ would suggest I tell Spencer but every time I would decline and say, “not yet”.  
All this time I was still madly in love with Spencer. Every night I would cry myself to sleep knowing the person I loved the most other than Henry didn’t love me back. He had moved on, on several occasions Emily would come to tell me about the girls she would see Spencer flirting with. It wasn’t something I wanted to know, but I needed to know. A very small part of my heart suggests that if I had told Spencer the night I found out about Henry he would have never left me, but Spencer had stopped loving me long before that and telling him would burden him to me. I loved him, so so much, and it was all my fault he didn’t love me back. Rossi, every time we met up would tell me it wasn’t my fault that Spencer had fallen out of love with me, but deep down inside of me it felt like it was. Maybe it was because of Maeve, maybe not. 
Laying in bed crying, that is exactly what I was doing right this moment. The tears spilling out of my eyes staining the plush white pillow under my head, my body curled in the fetal position. Trembling, shaking, coldness, and the choked sobs from my lips filled the air. Henry completely oblivious of what's happening, was sleeping in the room next door. Whenever Henry saw me cry he would wrap me in a tight long hug, his small arms squeezing me tightly, his cheek on my shoulders, he never said anything, just hugged me. He truly was a smart little boy. 
Tonight's tears were different. They didn’t just come out of my eyes, they poured out. Today marked the official 2 year break up anniversary, two whole years knowing the person you loved the most probably had someone else on their mind. 
‘He never loved you.’
‘He’s too good for you.’
‘He hates you.’
‘He loves someone else.’
‘He wants nothing to do with you.’
‘He left you alone.’
‘YOU WEREN’T GOOD ENOUGH, THAT’S WHY HE LEFT YOU.’
‘YOU'RE A WHORE.’
‘YOU'RE UGLY.’ 
‘YOU DON’T DESERVE LOVE.”
The voices never stopped, slapping at my brain. The pounding just got worse whenever I tried to ignore it. 
That's it. I bolted up from my bed and started walking towards the kitchen. Wine, Vodka, Beer, all those sounded great right now. And you know what that’s exactly what's going to happen. To get wasted. I’m never this reckless, but tonight, tonight was an exception, it hurt too much, the pain jabbing at my heart was too much to handle. 
I stomped quietly down the halls of my apartment and swung the kitchen cabinet door that held the booze open. Nothing. 
Plan b. 
Grabbing the skimpiest dress I owned I threw it on and taped up on some light makeup. The dress I had on looked so slutty I almost decided to just cancel my plans, the dress was a deep dark shade of emerald green, it had almost the thinnest straps, a plunging neckline, and a skirt that stopped at the top of my thighs. For makeup a smokey eye with gold and blood-red lipstick. I grabbed my long y/h/c hair and pulled it into a slick, tight ponytail at the top of my head and turned to the bathroom mirror. I looked like a desperate whore, I had thought to myself as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The jabbing was not going to let me rest so I threw my stupid thoughts about being a whore out of my head and called Rossi. 
David picked up on the third ring.
“Y/n why are you calling me at 10:30pm?” David’s voice came from the other end. 
“I’m so sorry David for waking you up so late but could you please please please come to my apartment and watch Henry for a few hours? He’s asleep already! All you have to do is listen for him.” My voice pleaded, sounding more desperate than the time I begged Spencer to come back. 
“Fine, but you owe me a coffee tomorrow,” David answered shuffling around his apartment for a coat and his keys. “I’ll be there in 3 minutes. 
“Thank you, see you,” I said into the phone and hung up.
Three minutes passed and as Rossi promised he showed up. 
I swung the door open as soon as I heard the knock on the door. 
Rossi just stood there looking at me with a disapproving look on his face. I could tell he already knew what I was up to. After all he is a profiler. 
I stepped aside so David could step in. 
“I’m only doing this because I know you need this,” Rossi said stepping in. 
“Thank you,” I said a small smile on my face. 
“Be safe okay? And don’t do anything you’ll regret.” David said, taking off his coat and sitting down in the armchair by the tv. 
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours and the guest room is always open.” I said grabbing my purse and closing the door. 
I called a cab to take me to the most popular night club. The more people the better. The driver kept eyeing me throughout the entire car ride, and I get why, I did dress like a lady that wanted nothing but attention. 
When we stopped in front of the club, I jumped out and threw my money to the driver before he could say anything and walked away and into the club. 
The club was crowded as I had suspected, this was good this way I blended in. 
As I made my way to the bar part of the club, I felt insane amounts of prying eyes on me, but I chose to ignore all of them.
“I’d like the strongest drink you have here,” I said to the bartender as I slapped down a few bucks.
“Break up?” The bartender asked as he picked up the money. 
“You can say that,” I said holding the tears back. 
I waited as the male bartender, Elliot I had read on his tag, prepared my drink. All around me were couples dancing and grinding against each other. Jealousy. that's what I was feeling right now at the moment. 
The bartender brought back my drink and I downed it in a matter of seconds. What came afterward hit strong. The drink made my mind fuzzy and fluffy. That’s good. I wanted to feel the clouds. Right? 
“I’ll take three more of these.”  I slurred already dizzy. 
“I’m sorry miss but you can’t have more than three of these, they are very strong.” The bartender said back. 
“I’ll pay double,” I answered.
“I’m sorry miss, but it's against policy, and I have a good idea how you are feeling, and it may seem like a good idea right now, but it’ll suck later,” Elliot responds back. 
“Fine, two more than,” I said handing him more bills. 
He took the money without any words and walked to the back to prepare the drinks. I may be no profiler but I can sure as hell tell he thinks I’m psychotic.
Elliot brought back my drinks, and I gave him a quick thanks. I grabbed my second glass and stared around me again.  Happy couples everywhere. Ugh. I downed my second glass as an attractive man approached me. 
“Hey pretty lady, mind if I take you home for tonight?” The man asked. 
I thought about it. I really did. But I loved Spencer way too much. “No thank you,” I answered. 
“Come on.” The man said, grabbing my hand roughly. His face dangerously close to mine that I could smell his disgusting breath.
“NO THANKS,” I repeated trying to pull my wrists away.
His hand tightened against my arm. “Come on you whore! You're basically asking for it by the way you're dressed.” The man spat. 
I started struggling and pulling but the man wouldn’t let go one bit. 
“Hey let her go, the lady said no,” Elliot said approaching the counter towards us. 
The man looked at me in disgust and let go of my wrists and walked away stomping his feet. 
“Thanks,” I said as tears started spilling out of my eyes. 
“Yeah no problem, be safe okay?” He asked. 
“Yeah okay,” I answered as I chugged my last glass of alcohol.
I stood up, wobbling, and tried my best to make my way out of the club. 
I could still hear the music as I walked out of the club. It was pouring rain outside. Great. My stupid ass didn’t bring a jacket.  I saw a phone booth a few feet away and I quickly made my way to it, tripping and stumbling a bit. Everything around me was spinning and I felt like I could be flying right now. I closed the door to the phone booth and just clutched to the wall as I tried to sort out all my thoughts. 
Then an idea struck me. Call Spencer Reid. 
If I wasn’t drunk I wouldn’t have done it, but now it was too late, the numbers were already dialed, and the phone was already against my ear. 
On the fifth ring he picked up. He picked up. Picked up. He actually picked up.
“Hello?” Came Spencer's angelic voice, although he sounded pissed. 
“Spencer? Is- Is that you?” I slurred stuttering like crazy. I already knew but I had to make sure.
“Y/n is that you? Why do you sound drunk?” Spencer’s voice came.
“Of course dummy I’m drunk, why else would I be calling.” I laughed, bubbly hiccups erupting my mouth. 
“Why are you calling me y/n, it's one in the morning and I’m kind of busy.” He said, definitely pissed.  “Wait are you outside?”
“Y-yes,” I answered back.
There was a long pause. 
What I said next was not something I would have said if I wasn’t pissed drunk. “I really miss you Spence. And, and I love you so much and I hate that you left m-”
“Stop Y/n I don’t want to hear it. I told you two years ago that I don't love you.” Spencer stopped me.
“Spencer please, please, please. I’m s-s-sorry for whatever i- I did.” I sobbed tears, definitely pouring out of my eyes. 
“I’m sorry Y/n. I told you a million ti-.” Before he could finish, a female voice came on. “Hey babe who is that?”
CRACK. That was my heartbreaking. 
“I’m not your babe Amanda.” I barely hear,  my choked sobs were stopping me from focusing on anything. 
“Is-is that a woman?” I clocked out. 
“Yes it is, I told you I was kinda busy.” Spencer spat. 
That’s it. That’s when I snapped. “THAT’S IT IF YOU’RE GOING TO SLEEP WITH OTHER WOMEN, I WON’T LET YOU MEET HENRY, YOU BASTARD,” I screamed into the poor phone. 
My eyes immediately popped open in horror as I realized what I just yelled. I slapped my hand to my mouth in horror. Tears definitely still pouring out my eyes.
“Who’s Henry?” Spencer asked.
“NO. NO. NO. NO.” I screamed on the phone, still in denial. 
“Get dressed and get out of my house. GO!” I heard Spencer from a distance. “I’m coming to pick you up,” Spencer said to me.
“Why would you fucking do that?” I cried. 
“Because obviously you’re bat shit drunk Y/n. And plus if I left you to die in a random phone box somewhere. Rossi’s going to strangle me. Where are you?” Spencer exclaimed.
“I-I’m on third street in front of the club,” I answered calming down. 
“Okay bye.” He said and hung up. 
“BITCH!” I yelled into the deadline. 
Oh god I’m going to throw up.  I ran out of the phone booth and thankfully my hair is already pulled back. I basically threw up everything I ate for dinner. I rubbed my lips with my arm and saw that my red lipstick was rubbed on my arms which only meant one thing it was rubbed on my cheek too.
I stood by the side of the road both hands in front of me holding my handbag, drenched in rainwater, Mascara running down my soaked cheeks, lipstick smudged. And that’s exactly how I looked when Spencer pulled up on the side of the road. 
Spencer pulled the door open from his seat and motioned me into his car. I climbed into the car and grabbed the seat belt to fasten it but my head was so spiny it was impossible. Spencer grabbed the seat belt from my hands and roughly shoved it in. 
“God you look like a cheap whore,” Spencer stated as he pulled away from the crib.
“I KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUB IT IN,” I yelled, frustrated. 
“Jesus women calm down I’m just saying,” Spencer said calmly, eyes never leaving the road. 
I sat there in silence frustrated as hell. 
“So who’s Henry? Your new boyfriend?” Spencer sneered.
On any other day when I’m sober I would have played along with it, but no.
“No,” I answered staring straight ahead. 
“Then who is he?” Spencer asked, turning his head to me.
“No one.” I spat, making eye contact with him. 
“You can’t just bring a random guy up and not tell me!” Spencer said, clearly frustrated. 
“YES I CAN,” I yelled.
“JUST TELL ME JESUS CHRIST.” He yelled back.
I bit my lip as I started balling my eyes out. 
“Just tell me.” Spencer urged. 
“HE’S YOUR TWO-YEAR-OLD SON. OKAY NOW DROP IT!” I snapped. 
His eyes widened in surprise. I looked at him in horror, slapping my hand to my mouth. 
“I have a son?” Spencer asked, amazed, but also looking angry. “And you didn’t tell me for two years?” 
I just nodded covering the rest of my face crying into my hands. 
“When were you going to tell me?” He asked.
I didn’t answer.
“WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?” Spencer yelled. 
I looked up at him and his face was all red and he was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. 
“I don’t know.” I choked out.
We neared my apartment building and Spencer parked his car. “Get out, I’ll call you when I’m less pissed at you.” Spencer managed between clenched teeth.
I just sat there cause I really didn’t know what to do.
“I SAID GET OUT OF MY CAR NOW!” Spencer yelled, his hands in the air now. 
“OKAY, BYE,” I screamed back and got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Spencer immediately drove away, no hesitation, and never looked back.
I climbed the stairs to my apartment, tears still pouring out my eyes, dress still soaked, and makeup all over. 
When I opened my apartment door Rossi stood up and looked at me. With one look Rossi knew and ran towards me to wrap me in a very tight hug
I dropped my bag onto the floor and hugged Rossi back, crying into his shoulder as he patted my wet hair. 
Part two?
173 notes · View notes
cheswirls · 3 years
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you won't remember / i won't forget  [ 1/2 ]
[this ended up being my creative project october, wholly inspired by dakumes' old art. its 10k each half so be careful if you have a 'read more' extension. rip mobile users ig. thanks again @hoo-kie for letting me ramble abt this one !]
he brings daisies, today.
sabo takes them warily as they’re pushed into his arms, careful of the iv in his right hand. the bouquet is lovely, the white petals fresh, like they had just been picked, and the yellow centers seeming to stare up at him, warm color nice and inviting, bringing a hesitant smile to his face.
after a moment he bends down to sniff them, and closes his eyes at the smell, his mouth falling open to breathe it in. “they’re lovely,” he murmurs, just loud enough for the room’s other occupant to hear.
“they’re your favorite,” is his reply, and sabo’s shoulders tense at the information release.
“o-oh,” he stammers, holding the bouquet at a distance. he works to keep his face neutral, but it’s hard, his former wary smile quickly wanting to morph into a full-blown frown. it’s not that he doesn’t doubt that it’s true -they smell amazing, so it must be to some extent- but more that it was being handed to him as fact, presented as evidence of something he wasn’t ready to believe.
“here, let me take them,” his visitor says, reaching out to grab the flowers. his callused fingers brush against the backs of sabo’s hands and the blond bites down on his lower lip at the contact. “i should’ve brought a vase or somethin’, that was my bad.” he either doesn’t notice sabo’s obvious discomfort or is blatantly ignoring it -both options are equally possible- and he moves to set the bouquet on the windowsill, open now that the blinds had been drawn.
sabo folds his hands in his lap, having nothing better to do with them. he stares at the scars, at the bandaids covering fresh marks, and runs his thumb over one until the motion begins to irritate where his iv was stuck.
his visitor -ugh, he really should stop calling him that. he had a name, it’s just that sabo never bothered to remember it. but when he turns back to take a seat on the edge of sabo’s hospital bed, the early morning light reflects off his visitor nametag, and sabo reads the name again: ace.
“are you feeling any better today?” he asks, and sabo moves his gaze away once again.
“i guess,” he mutters. ace’s face falls at the dismissive attitude, but he doesn’t leave. it bothers sabo, but another, very small part of him feels warm. he does his best to tune it out.
he looks up again to find ace watching him, and lowers his eyes, examining his clothes instead. his window didn’t provide a great view, so this was his only real way to gauge the weather. 
if he had to guess, it was cold. ace was in a red coat, scuffed up here and there but otherwise looking rather nice. his boots were honey-tanned, the laces done up loosely so that the tops flopped open. they had more signs of wear than the coat, so if sabo had to guess, he’d probably had them for some time. 
sabo reaches a hand up and pushes his fringe out of his face, sighing. the movement causes ace to lean forward.
“have the nurses said anything new?”
what’s it to you? sabo wants to bite out, but he withholds his tongue. “they haven’t been by,” he mutters instead, which was partially true. they hadn’t been by, since ace was last here, that he could tell. but his bandages weren’t frayed anymore, from his constant picking, and his iv was near full. it was odd-colored, too, which would probably explain why he couldn’t feel anything apart from a low thrum from his head. his ankles felt freer, too, brushing against the low-grade cotton of the sheets, which probably meant the wrapping around them had been removed.
he hasn’t looked yet. he’s not sure he wants to.
a low knock on the open door gets his attention, and sabo looks up as one of the nurses wanders in, lowering her hand and raising a clipboard.
“mr. portgas? i’m here to take your vitals, if you’re ready.”
ace blinks, then stands. “do i need to-?”
the nurse glances to him as she takes a seat on a stool at sabo’s bedside. “you can stay,” she tells him, smiling. “as long as it’s okay with sabo.”
they both turn to stare and sabo drops his eyes to the mint green of his hospital shirt. “sure.”
this nurse looks familiar, but they had been rotating his room, so if he was told anything important about her, he’d already forgotten. she’s gentle as she takes his left arm to push on a bp cuff, but with a sort of carelessness that leaves her nails scraping on the bandages. he hardly notices, though, and that’s when he knows for sure he’s on some kind of morphine. 
she finishes after a few minutes and sabo leans his head back against the pillows as she scribbles down a set of numbers. he doesn’t care, but she tells him he was normal anyways. the news seems to satisfy ace, if anything.
he glances to the window as she leaves and accidentally meets his eyes. they’re dark when he’s turned away from the light like this, but sabo can still tell they’re grey. he turns away quickly. it really was too early for this.
as if agreeing with him, ace’s stomach grumbles and he places his arms over it in a hurry, cheeks colored. “uh, guess i forgot to eat before coming in,” he mumbles. he straightens after a moment, nodding to the door. “‘m gonna grab something real quick. you want anything?”
by ‘something’, he means whatever he can find from the vending machine at the end of the hall. at most it’ll give sabo a few minutes of respite. he purses his lips. “they have me on a regulated diet,” he reminds ace, like he didn’t already know.
ace grins, moving around the bed and throwing his hands into his coat. it spreads at the edges as he draws his arms taut, resting just below his hip. “you could sneak it. a little wouldn’t do you any harm.” but he shrugs, giving up before sabo could protest. “i’ll be right back.”
sabo grips the sheets hard as ace slides the door shut. a part of him never wants the other to come back; another part of him knows he always does.
-
sabo takes a risk and curls his legs under the thin sheets. he holds his breath as he slides the blanket down, removing them one by one. the pants he was given were the same bland mint as his shirt, and they cut off at the top of his calves, leaving most of his lower leg exposed. now that the bandages are gone, he can see the obvious rope marks at his ankles, skin still badly discolored but no longer open. he breathes deep at the sight, gasping before he remembers he’d been withheld air, and then closes his eyes and works to steady his breathing.
he folds his legs up more and reaches a hand down to brush against the gnarled skin. even as light as he is, it’s still very sensitive, and he ends up pulling away quicker than he’d like. he frowns at the sight, curving his legs the opposite way to view the other side. it’s the first injury he’s seen, the others always wrapped up. he’d been too anxious to remove the simple bandaids after their presence lingered for a few days, nervous of what he’d find. when he picks at the wrapping on his arms, it’s fixed before he can get anywhere, smoothed down like he hadn’t bothered in the first place.
a quick inhale gains his attention, and sabo looks up to see ace just inside the room, hand still on the doorknob. he pulls a long face and reaches out to drag the blanket over his feet, hiding the marks. then he moves his legs until they’re pressed against his chest. but the pressure ends up causing discomfort, and sabo wonders not for the first time just what his shirt was concealing. he huffs and ends up sliding his legs straight again. they catch the edge of the sheet and push it back, revealing the marks again as his legs lay bare.
ace comes closer, sliding into the chair at sabo’s left, and his eyes swivel from the injury to sabo’s face, watching him closely. “do they hurt?” he asks after a minute.
“no,” sabo answers, letting the air settle before replying. he wants to divulge more, say something about his light touch irritating them, but another part of him vehemently doesn’t, and he chooses to trust the logic of the latter.
ace sits quietly for a while, and sabo realizes it’s the first time he’s seen any of his injuries either. 
“how?” he speaks up, loud in the silence. he swallows, because that had been impulsive, but ace is looking at him, and he can’t take it back now. “how did i get them?”
ace’s expression becomes pained, and he turns away, looking to the wall. his hands, resting calmly on his thighs, move to entangle, and sabo watches as they restlessly fumble. his eyes narrow.
“do you . . really want to know?”
sabo blinks, caught off-guard by the question, by the hesitance in ace’s tone. after all this time, after revealing little random nothings about the blond, now he was stalling on something he actually-
“tell me,” sabo demands, teeth gritted.
ace’s grey eyes catch in the light as he turns back to look at sabo, alarmed. they grow lax after a moment, and he nods, sullenly glancing to the door before giving sabo his full attention. “restraints.”
sabo blinks at the concise reply, furrowing his brow in irritation. he’s quick to smooth it out, bringing a hand up as the pain hits. he doesn’t know what to think. it was vague, but ace spoke like it was supposed to be significant. “restraints,” he echoes, voice bland. 
ace’s hand is reached out, but he drops it as sabo glances back up. “yeah.”
sabo suppresses the shiver in his body. him being succinct suddenly scared sabo more than anything. if he was hesitant to disclose what all had happened, well . .
just how bad was it?
-
“mr portgas?”
sabo moves his book further down his face to see a nurse at the door. he lets it fall face-down into his lap, giving her his attention as she moves into the room. she looks familiar, with her straight black hair, but sabo can't place her.
“i’m here to take your vitals,” she says. sabo nods and she takes a seat at his bedside, setting a clipboard down on a small table she rolls closer. she picks up a pulse monitor first and places it on sabo’s index finger.
when she's all done she tells him he was normal today, then leaves him to his reading. sabo picks the book back up but his gaze is caught on the stack of progress sheets on his door, and he finds himself wondering what all they said, if they disclosed anything he wasn’t already aware of.
the book is good. he’d acquired it the other day, and after removing the bookmark someone had left in it, he’d worked on it for a long while. he was almost halfway through now. 
his mind wanders as he flips the page, wondering if he could ask the staff for another one. he’s not sure who this one belongs to, but he’ll have to return it. he wants to do that much.
“do you like it?”
sabo is startled as his visitor walks into the room. ace, he reads off the nametag. he frowns, realizing he hadn’t processed anything, and flips back a page. “it’s fine,” he mumbles, though he knows his progress spoke for itself. 
ace moves to occupy the rolling chair the nurse had just been in. “do you want me to get you another one?”
sabo frowns deeper at this, but doesn’t look up from the pages. “no, that’s okay.” he didn’t want ace to give him anything. though, he thinks, glancing to his right, the flowers were nice. they were in a real vase now, getting light from the open window. they made the room smell good. less like ointment and antiseptic, something that didn’t make his nose burn.
ace doesn’t say anything else. he’s content to sit beside sabo as he reads, as the sun tracks higher and then lower into the sky, and the daisies begin to wilt from lack of light.
-
ace is lounging on a chair near the window, hands steepled, eyes turned toward the skyline. his legs are extended on the floor, only the backs of his heels touching the tile. he’s wearing the boots again, and the color is faded today, like frost had covered the top and had yet to melt off. 
sabo observes him when he’s finished his book, last page still open to give the illusion he was reading. he drops the act when a nurse wanders in, holding up two cups of yogurt. sabo closes the book so it lies backwards on his thighs, then swings the overbed tabletop so it rested at an angle, closer but not exactly over him. 
her hair dips over her shoulder when she reaches forward to hand sabo his lunch. he deposits both cups onto the table, then reaches back to take the plastic spoon from her grip. her nails clip one of the bandaids along his finger, and sabo blinks, a stern sense of deja-vu washing over him.
“if you can’t finish both, you can put one in the fridge over there,” she says, pointing to a mini fridge in the corner of the room, squished between the wall and a table of basic medical supplies. 
sabo nods, wondering how he’s never noticed it before. she moves from the room after that, her long, dark hair fanning out over the back of her scrubs. the door shuts before sabo moves to open one of the tabs on the yogurt.
“you’re done with the book?” ace asks quietly, while sabo’s mouth is full. it’d been easier to ignore the eyes on his back when he wasn’t talking, but at least now, sabo doesn’t have to verbally respond, nodding instead.
sabo doesn’t trust ace, not yet, but the staff clearly seem to, so when he’s halfway through with the cup he puts it down in favor of the book, holding it out to him. “will you give this back?” he requests. 
he doesn’t miss the way ace’s face drops as he reaches out to take it. he’s not sure how to interpret it, so he chooses not to, moving to finish his yogurt. he starts feeling funny at the end, so he sets it aside with a couple bites left, rolling his tongue in his mouth to try and work the feeling away.
ace is still sitting there, neck almost level with the back of the chair. his legs are bent, now, and both feet are firmly on the ground to hold himself in place. sabo doesn’t feel bad. he tells himself this. but, ace had been there all day, refusing to leave for anything. his mood was starting to wear on the blond.
“here,” sabo says, holding the second yogurt cup towards him. “you can have this.”
ace blinks, but stretches out an arm. it lingers there, both of their hands on the cup. “you’re sure?”
sabo shrugs, withdrawing. “i don’t want it.”
ace must know something he doesn’t, because he smiles as he brings the yogurt close. “thanks,” he says, but his smile crooks as he pulls the tab. his eyes wander to sabo’s spoon and the blond follows his gaze there, jerking a hand out to shield it from view.
“no,” he stresses. “get your own.” he jerks his hand to the table against the wall. “use one of those.”
ace’s shoulders are shaking with contained laughter, and he gets up with a jerky bow, too-long arm folding behind his back. “as you wish,” he purrs, and sabo doesn’t know how to feel about that. ace moves over to the table, humming as he looks everything over. his smile hasn’t left his face, but his brows grow pinched as he wonders what to use.
sabo regrets giving him the book, if only because he misses having something to do with his hands. it was good, too. he’d read it again if it was his own, especially because he wasn’t able to pick up on the lead’s motives, for some reason. 
ace wanders back over to his chair with a tongue depressor, moving the seat close so that he can rest an elbow on sabo’s table. sabo glances at him again and then leans back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling.
“i don’t even know you,” he mutters, one hand wandering up to clench his shirt, right where his heart is.
ace stills, food forgotten. “sabo . .” he tries.
“i don’t even know you!” his voice raises, but it’s not a yell, not yet. it’s enough to make ace go quiet, though, and he turns to face him. “why are you even here? why don’t you go somewhere else? i-” he cuts himself off as he feels his eyes water.
“my name is ace.” he sets the yogurt on the table, then pushes it aside to move closer to the bed. “i’ve been coming here every day for-”
“i know,” sabo interrupts. “i remember when you’re here.”
ace’s eyes widen. “that’s . . good. i’m glad.”
sabo fists the blanket tightly in both hands. “i’m not.” his eyes narrow. “you should go.”
ace looks pained, but he stands without argument. “if that’s what you want.”
sabo’s heart hurts as the door closes. he thinks it might hurt more than all his physical injuries, but he just can’t figure out why.
-
he’s propped up when he first wakes, not nearly as lucid as he should be. his eyes adjust to the room easily enough. it’s partially dark, the blinds half-open to let in the setting sun’s light. he puffs out a breath, face screwing up at the weight on his chest.
when he glances down, he finds himself bound in a blanket. stringy blond hair moves into the edge of his vision. he thinks, for how long it appears, it was weird how short it felt on the back. if he reached behind, he’d find a bald strip barely covered by the longer strands. but before he can, there’s a loud noise to his left, his earlier motion not going unnoticed.
“sabo!” a voice says, and he looks up to see someone in a hospital gown moving quickly to his bedside. “thank god you’re awake,” he says, looking close to tears, and he climbs up on the edge of the bed, one knee buried into the mattress. rough hands move up to cup his face, and he blinks, stunned by the emotion he’s greeted with. he inhales sharp, vision swimming, and leans out of the hold, bringing a hand to his forehead. his fingers bunch around tight bandages.
“sabo?” the voice comes again. “does it hurt? i can get the nurses. here, there should be a button-”
he reaches out and grips the other’s hand before he could press anything, one eye still screwed up. “i’m . . . overwhelmed,” he manages to say, slowly voicing his thoughts, sure he would be able to process them this way. the other settles down, nodding in understanding.
“you had surgery. they said you would-”
“no,” he grounds out. he drops the hand and gestures between them. “this.”
“what do you mean?”
“you know me,” he says, opening both eyes now to see the puzzlement cross the other’s face. “i can see that. but you aren’t-” he breaks off. “i mean i . . .” he trails off, shaking his head, eyes downcast.
“. . don’t.”
-
they tell him his name is sabo portgas. sabo doesn’t have anything to go off, so he takes what he’s given. he has a visitor, they say, from the room next door. his name is ace. he wanted to see sabo before he was discharged.
“it’s okay,” he hears ace tell the doctor, before he comes in. “i’m not worried. i’ll help him remember.”
“i admire you attitude, but it won’t be that easy,” the doctor warns. ace says something in a voice too low for sabo to hear. the doctor sighs. “remember to take care of yourself, too.”
“gotcha!” ace says, and then he’s pushing the door open. sabo watches him warily. 
ace smiles until he shows his teeth and moves until he’s sitting at sabo’s bedside. “hey! feel any better?”
sabo gestures to the morphine drip. “i don’t feel anything, i assure you.”
ace laughs, his lips barely parted. “sorry for scaring you last time. i-”
“last time?” sabo mumbles, face screwing up in concentration.
ace’s morphs into one of disbelief. “you don’t . . remember?”
“i was told ace was coming but.” he shakes his head. “i’ve never met you before.”
ace’s eyes dim. then they glimmer, and he moves closer, setting both hands gently on each of sabo’s shoulders. he thought he could take this slow, but if he was regressing, if would be better to go all out from the beginning. “hey, sabo,” he says, voice so assertive it has blue eyes locked onto his in an instant. “i love you.”
sabo sits there for a while, until the air stings at his wide eyes. he thinks he’s forgotten to breathe in his shock. “you -what?!” his lips purse, affronted by the casual intimacy. 
“i love you,” ace says again, leaning back. sabo is even more confused as he says it again. “i have for a long time, and i always will.” his grip tightens, crumpling the thin material of his hospital gown. “if you remember anything from today: remember that.”
and sabo does.
he remembers well into the night, long after ace has left, shooed out once visitor hours had ended. he falls asleep for a bit, and when he wakes, body sore, room dark, he still remembers ace’s determined look as he said that phrase sabo felt was misplaced.
he slams a hand on the call button before he can be sick. it’s a long night.
-
he shows up again first thing in the morning. sabo has to read the visitor tag for the name, but he remembers the face, and it makes him nervous, wary. ace is being far too assertive for someone in sabo’s position, and he’s unsure if he can trust him. he doesn’t know anything about him, so it’s hard to place his intentions. 
sabo supposes he could try and learn, but it’s far easier to close himself off instead, to put some distance between the two of them. he wanted to know more about himself before he got to know the person claiming to be in love with him.
-
“hey, this green doesn’t look bad on you!” ace says one day, making a frame with his fingers to capture sabo in. he blinks up, distracted, and ace’s grin morphs. “dark blue would look better, though,” he admits. “too bad they don’t have it.” he leans back. “i’d bring you some, but uh, i just can’t afford it right now.” he perks up. “one day, though! before you leave, i swear it.”
“right,” sabo says, frowning. ace catches on, sitting back up straight.
“you okay? head hurt?”
“i like blue?” sabo mumbles, ace straining to hear the words.
he blinks when he does, nodding. “yeah. it matches your eyes,” he admits.
sabo lifts a hand to his face, wincing at the strain it puts on the iv. “my eyes are blue?”
ace jumps to his feet, and sabo shifts, eyeing him oddly. he holds a finger up. “wait here.”
he’s gone before sabo can reply that he’s got nowhere to go.
one of the nurses comes in, ace trailing her. they’re both smiling. “i hadn’t realized you never saw,” she admits, words directed to sabo, though he doesn’t know what she means. she takes out a small pocket mirror and places it in front of sabo, until he’s reached out to hold it in his own hands.
his reflection stares back at him. when he blinks, cerulean eyes blink back. his face is pale, too pale. there’s a bandaid on his cheek. he moves the mirror higher and cards a hand through his hair. it’s definitely seen better days. 
he hands the mirror back. “thank you.”
she shakes her head. “thank ace. he’s the one who brought it up.” she waves. “let me know if you need anything else.”
ace waves back, settling again on the edge of the bed as she leaves. “they’re pretty,” he voices, and sabo looks up again. 
“my eyes?”
“your eyes,” ace clarifies. “they’ve always been pretty.”
sabo blinks, feeling drawn away from the conversation. he could’ve handled it, but the last part got him, the insinuation that he didn’t know if he could trust.
“you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday,” he blurts out, because ace is still staring at him but he doesn’t want that conversation drawn out.
ace looks down at himself, then lets out a meek laugh. “it’s all i have right now,” he reveals. “but i’m working on it.”
sabo has no idea what he means, but he doesn’t move to question it. he doesn’t care enough yet.
-
the next time ace comes in, sabo’s bandages are unraveled from his arms. the edges are bloody, and there are red partial fingerprints staining his right arm. he’s still dragging his fingers down his left, unbothered as the stitches come open, blood seeping from the long cut running down his inner arm. 
ace drops his package, and it lands on the tile with a loud thunk. “sabo!” he frets, instantly by the blond’s side, forcing him to stop. “you can’t do that! you’re opening them! doesn’t it hurt?”
“i wanted to see,” he murmurs, focused on the feeling of ace’s hand wrapped around his bloody one. “they would never let me see. i’ve been trying, i think.” he shakes his head. “it doesn’t hurt.”
“that doesn’t matter!” ace snaps, and sabo blinks, ripped from his daze. “you can’t hurt yourself like this,” he tells sabo, using his free hand to hit the call button. “it won’t get better if you keep messing with it.”
“what’s-? oh. oh no, sabo.” a nurse comes in and hurries over, turning sabo’s left arm gently in her grasp. “you shouldn’t mess with these. you’ll only make them worse.”
sabo frowns, offended. “i only wanted to see what they looked like.”
“you can do that once they’re all better,” the nurse assures him. she looks across to his other arm, and her gaze softens. “let me get some water and i’ll help you clean up.” she glances to ace. “stay here?” watch him? she doesn’t say, but she doesn’t have to. ace nods, hand clasped tight around sabo’s. 
“it doesn’t hurt,” sabo mumbles, after she’s cleaned the blood off and prepped the needle with anesthetic. 
“just in case,” she tells him, inserting the needle. ace watches her work as she sews up sabo’s left arm, holding onto his right. they switch as she preps another needle with local anesthetic, and sabo looks very bored as the same process is repeated on his other arm.
ace doesn’t relax until both of sabo’s arms are bandaged back up. sabo is the opposite, growing more taut as his wounds are hidden from him. again. 
“where did i get these?” he holds out his arms for emphasis. ace purses his lips, and that drives sabo up the wall. “you know!” he accuses. “you know and you’re not saying anything! you have to know how frustrating that is. do-” he pauses, a thought dawning on him. “was it you?”
ace’s expression changes immediately. “no,” he breathes, and sabo almost feels bad for accusing him, but it makes sense, too.
“you were involved, then,” sabo surmises. “that’s why you’re here -you feel guilty.”
“sabo, listen to me.” ace moves closer, and sabo flinches, forcing him to stop short. “you have the wrong idea.” he leans back again, and his hands go to the hem of his shirt.
sabo watches as he raises it, revealing the bandages wrapped around his ribs. he can see the bruising peeking out from the edges of the white. or, grey, more like. sabo imagined it’s what his own would look like, if the hospital staff wasn’t so vigorous in changing them out. he mellows out, just a bit.
“i was there, but i didn’t -i would never hurt you,” ace stresses. “i was with you. you just ended up with more damage than me.” he bites his lip, hard, his eyes no longer on sabo. “i’m sorry, for that. if i could switch our places, i would, i’d do it in a heartbeat.”
sabo is silent for a long time, mulling this over. 
“maybe it’s a trauma bond,” he suggests, and ace blinks rapidly.
“sorry, what?”
“we went through the same experience, and now you’re attached to me.” sabo shrugs. “it happens.”
“wh- no.” ace shakes his head. “sabo, no, that’s not it. i’ve been with you long before that. what happened was unfortunate, but it-”
“then what is it?!” sabo yells. “what are we?” his lower lip trembles, and he forces himself to hold the tears back, even as he feels his eyes burn. “just tell me already,” he says hoarsely, barely containing himself.
ace comes close again, sitting on the bed, grasping for sabo’s hand. he nods, several times, like he’s working himself up. “my name is ace portgas,” he says slowly, voice breaking.
sabo’s world shatters.
-
ace is out getting food when sabo decides he’s had enough of this small room. he pulls the iv out and presses down on his bandaged wrist until the bleeding has stopped. then he swings both legs over the edge of the bed, back turned from the window. he plucks the handful of electrodes from his skin and gathers himself in the new quiet of the room. he could do this. he could stand-
the door bursts open right as sabo as settled his hands on the mattress to hoist himself up. he looks up, alarmed, as several people rush in and stop short.
“i- uh.” he blanks, caught off guard. “i just . . want to walk around. if that’s okay.” he mumbles the last part, right as he spies ace just inside the door, expression fading to something unreadable. 
“oh, sabo,” one of the staff says, voice hushed. they move forward to gather the disconnected electrodes from the ground. “you should ask about things like that. it should be fine . . ?” they turn to the others for confirmation.
another one steps up, nodding. “let me go get the doctor.”
they all slowly disperse until only ace is left, wandering in. ace portgas. 
“they’ll get worried if you’re unhooked from the machines,” he says, bending down in front of sabo. sabo searches his face, but he can’t find any resemblance to his own. they weren’t family. they weren’t blood, which meant . .
he tsks, turning his head away. “i wasn’t going to leave,” he mutters. “not like i have anywhere to go.”
ace’s eyes widen, and then relax, as he does his best to put on a brave face. “you will,” he promises. “i’m working on it.”
sabo isn’t sure what he means, but the doctor comes in before he can question.
“portgas!” he says, and the greeting is a sting in the already-burning cut. “heard you wanted to walk around. that should be fine, you’ll just have to take your iv with you. hm? ah, let me hook it back up.”
he’s very patient, not mentioning the earlier incident, or growing disgruntled at the fact his iv was leaking. sabo sits there silently as he places the needle back under his skin, nods in satisfaction, and leans back.
“don’t push yourself. you can use the iv stand as balance, but if you need a wheelchair, i’ll issue that, too.” his lips quirk up. “walking around will be good for you, though. it’s a little early, but i suppose you’ve been here long enough.” he stands back up. “i’ll get someone to bring in slippers. just sit tight until then.” he winks, and sabo nods, trying not to feel guilty.
the slippers are the same mint green as the rest of his hospital garb. sabo feels a stab of disappointment, but he’s not sure what color he wishes they were instead. they slide on easily enough, and after wheeling the iv stand around -and under surveillance- he grabs onto it to slowly come to a stand.
his legs shake. it’s not too bad, the nurse tells him. he takes a step forward, and another, the iv stand rolling along with him. she tells him he’s good enough to go, and sabo nods, concentrating, gaze trained on his feet.
“ace can take you around, make sure you’re doing okay,” she says, and sabo’s stomach drops. he suddenly doesn’t feel like going, but he forces himself to move anyway.
“fine,” he grunts, already at the door.
“if he can’t make it back, please don’t try to carry him,” the nurse tells ace quietly. “we don’t want to upset your ribs, and we have plenty of wheelchairs.”
ace frowns. “but that’s more romantic!”
“it’s not if you both end up collapsed,” she chides, and ace relents.
sabo’s not very far away from the room when ace catches up, hovering on his free side. “anywhere specific you wanna go?”
“take me to the vending machine you like so much,” is sabo’s reply.
ace looks taken aback. “well i’m not in love with it or anything.”
no, just me, he thinks, then slams down on that thought and stuffs it somewhere he doesn’t have to think about it. 
it’s at the end of the hall, illuminated in a dark corner. sabo looks at the rows, but nothing catches his eye.
“you want anything?” ace asks, leaning back against the wall.
sabo shrugs. “i don’t know what i would like.”
ace grins, fishing a dollar bill from his pocket. “i gotcha,” he says, head thrown over his shoulder as he steps forward to insert the money into the machine. he presses a couple buttons and sabo watches as a red package falls. 
ace pops it out and rips it open, gesturing for sabo to follow. they move until they’re sat on a bench, a large window covering most of the wall next to it. sabo sighs in relief as he releases his hands from their deathgrip on the cold steel. he would never admit it, but he was getting tired.
when he turns to glance at ace, smiling cheekily, he finds he doesn’t need to, which irritates him. ace resists laughing and nudges his shoulder, getting him to hold his hand out. he pours some of the candy into his palm, and sabo frowns down at it as the fruity smell assaults his nose.
“i probably can’t have this.”
“no one has to know,” ace says, shrugging. he pours some straight from the bag down into his mouth, and sabo shrugs, copying him, while he presses a purple one to his lips.
his eyes pop. it was startlingly good. he immediately throws another in, this time green. “these are good,” he voices, and ace laughs from beside him.
“too bad they don’t have the blue skittles.” ace grins when sabo stares up at him, questioning. “they’d match your eyes.”
sabo strangely feels like he’s heard something similar. he can’t place the conversation, though, and his interest dies. “these are good enough,” he insists, lifting his hand to pour them all into his mouth. he chews slowly, the fruit combination strange but not unpleasant. “thanks,” he mumbles, almost too low to hear, when he’s done.
unfortunately, ace’s hearing is extremely good, almost unreasonably so. “no problem,” he says, shoulders relaxing. 
they stay there until the sun starts sinking. ace has to ward sabo off from climbing the stairs to a new floor, convincing him to leave that for another day. they make it back to the room with little issue, though sabo is loath to admit he’s a little out of breath. 
“your blood pressure is a little high,” one of the nurses notes later on that night. “must’ve been a good walk.”
sabo bites down on his tongue, just hard enough to keep from saying anything. his mind wanders back to the candy he’d indulged in, and he resists rolling his eyes. he knew there would be consequences.
he strangely finds himself not caring as much as he should.
-
sabo’s attention, much to ace’s despair, is stolen by another book. he’d gotten this one from ace himself. reading it is good -it puts him at ease. even better now that he can read it over time, no longer forced to finish it in one sitting. it had been a shocking discovery, but a good one, when the nurse had wandered in to see sabo starting from where he’d placed the bookmark. he was beginning to retain things better, the doctor said. it was a sign of progress.
it was a welcome one.
ace is fiddling with his phone by the window. he’d started to come in with it more lately, no longer worried about having the blond’s sole attention. sabo could admit he was growing more comfortable in ace’s presence, though it had more to do with the way ace was acting around him, and less so with what he was supposed to be with sabo in the past.
ace’s phone rings and sabo glances up. ace frowns down at it, meets his eyes briefly, and then looks to the door. he sighs after a moment, accepting the call, and moves over to the far corner of the room, not quite leaving, but close. he talks low, and sabo turns his attention back to his book instead of struggling to overhear.
“i don’t sell anymore,” ace says, a little louder, and sabo blinks, finding he hadn’t processed any of what he’d read. he gives up, staring blankly at the pages, and drops the book entirely when ace ends the call.
“what was that about?”
ace has the decency to look contrite, slumping over as he takes a seat in the chair. he waves sabo off, though, not wanting to divulge this -especially with their location.
“you’ll remember eventually,” he mutters.
sabo crosses his arms. “i’d like to remember now.”
ace turns to look up at him, expression pleading. “sabo, you really don’t need to know right now,” he insists. “i’ll tell you some other time, okay?”
sabo huffs. he picks his book back up, and he doesn’t speak to ace for the rest of the night.
-
ace doesn’t come in one morning. 
sabo waits, then chides himself for thinking like that and spends the morning reading.
“no ace yet?” his nurse questions, as she takes his vitals. he shakes his head.
it’s not until sunlight is flooding into his room that sabo realizes he was still expecting the raven to waltz in. he was on the edge of his seat, literally, and he finds himself unable to concentrate on anything the longer he’s left alone.
he goes on a walk instead, pacing one side of the hall several times. he pauses near the middle as he catches wind of a conversation, pressing himself into the shadow of a doorway. 
“it’s a shame, really. he’s getting better, it’s obvious to see.”
“i know, right? even though he’s been here a while, it’s not like he’s fully recovered. such a shame they won’t cover the bills anymore.”
“gotta had some for other patients, i guess. the year’s not over yet. and accidents happen all the time in the snow.”
“did you hear what was happening next?”
“i think social services will pick it up, though i’m not sure. it’s complicated, since he’s not alone.”
“it’s not like he has a place to go, either. those two are so young. they’re not even twenty!”
“it really is awful. i just hope something changes for the better. they don’t deserve to end up back on the streets.”
sabo moves further down the hall, no longer willing to listen. he had a pretty good idea of who they were talking about. it stung, but he got it. he’d gathered enough hints over time, he just hadn’t wanted to form that particular conclusion.
he stands in front of the tall window at the end of the hall until his legs ache. then he trudges back to his room, not stopping for anything, even when one of the nurses calls out to him.
“oh, sabo, there you are! you have a visitor.”
he braces himself before entering the room. no doubt it was the social worker coming to take over his case. 
he’s only pleasantly surprised to find ace waiting for him. just ace.
“you came,” he says, slightly elated. 
ace turns on his rolling chair, smiling wide. “sabo! i was wondering where you were.”
“where i was?” sabo scoffs, though it’s mostly in jest. ace’s attitude is infectious, he finds, moving closer.
ace laughs. “right, sorry. i had some things to take care of today. but you’ll never believe it!” sabo’s close enough now that ace rolling to meet him catches him off-guard, which makes it easier to get knocked off his feet, landing on ace’s legs instead. he grips the pole of the iv stand tight.
his breath is caught as ace wraps his arms around his middle, pulling him closer. “the most amazing thing happened today,” he insists, either unaware of sabo’s growing flustered state or choosing to ignore it. “and i got us a place to stay after you get out!”
the words ground sabo, more than anything. he calms down enough to process it, but instead of being overjoyed, he grows somber. “so it’s true. w-” he bites his lip, unable to continue to speak, and switches words. “i was homeless.” he frowns. “am homeless.”
ace’s arms tense, then loosen, around him. he breathes soft, tickling sabo’s neck. “not exactly,” he murmurs.
“tell me,” sabo pleas.
and he does.
he tells sabo how they spent nights with friends, and then at shelters, when they moved. how ace picked up money here and there, and sabo found odd jobs he could get without a permanent address. how they moved around, until their car broke down here and they’d abandoned it. how things had been tough, but after a bit, they always managed to have a little cash to spare. how they had a place, a really small one, until they got caught up in the accident. and then after that, there hadn’t been anywhere to go back to.
“until now,” ace finishes, pulling sabo closer. “if you want to,” he adds, and this close sabo can detect the waver. 
“i have to get better first.”
“i know that. i meant, like . . after.” ace finishes in a mumble. sabo snorts, shoulders shaking from laughter, and he releases his hand from the pole to grab at ace.
“yeah. i would like that,” he admits.
ace looks up, stars in his eyes. “really?”
“you didn’t think i’d say yes?”
“i was worried you wouldn’t,” ace confesses. “i mean, you still don’t . . . remember everything. anything,” he amends. 
sabo thinks on that for a long time before answering. “i missed you, today,” he starts. “i tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, but it did. you’re right: i don’t remember anything. but i can tell i meant a lot to you. and, uh.” he ducks his head. “you mean a lot to me, now. and not because i knew you before. it’s because . . . well. because of all the things you’ve done for me, since i woke up.”
ace’s lips are clamped, his eyes glassy. it takes him a minute to regain the composure to speak. “even if you don’t remember-” he looks away, unable to hold sabo’s gaze, but he finds it again, before finishing. “it’ll be okay. promise.”
sabo blinks, finding he knew exactly how much that took ace to admit. he starts nodding his head, but finds he doesn’t like the mood, anymore. he smirks down at ace instead. “you sure? what if i end up-”
“nah.” ace shakes his head, laughing again. “you’re stuck with me, now.”
sabo finds, just a little bit unsurprisingly, that he’s okay with that.
-
“ace?”
sabo covers his mouth as he turns to see the nurse in the doorway. ace looks up with an easy grin, laughter dying down. “yeah?”
“the doctor is ready for you, if you’d like your checkup now.”
ace nods. “that would be great. just give me a minute and i’ll be right out.”
the nurse hums in response, sliding the door shut.
ace comes to a stand in a hurry, snaking a hand under sabo’s blanket to leave the half-empty skittles bag hidden there, top twisted shut. sabo snorts, dropping the hand from his mouth, and finally swallows the last of the blue ones. 
“i’ll come back when i’m done!” ace promises, moving to the door. sabo rolls his eyes.
“visitor hours will be over by then.”
“it’ll be quick! or i’ll sneak back in.” he winks. “but you didn’t hear the last part.”
“go,” sabo hums. ace waves on his way out, and sabo rolls his eyes again, but ends up doing the same.
he takes the skittles bag out and begins to unwrap the top, then decides against it and stuffs it under his pillows, instead. the sun is pretty low in the sky, now.
he hadn’t asked ace, he realizes. what the checkup was about. he could garner the basics, but it would be nice to know more.
he puts a hand to his chest, where he can feel the bandages through his shirt. they’d let him see it, the other day, while they were changing it out. even after all this time, it was still mottled with bruises, all in varying shades of colors. some had recurred, from what he’d gathered, but most of them were well on their way to healing.
he wonders if his injury is reflected on ace, or if it would be worse.
before he can vow to ask, he ends up falling asleep. he wakes up and the sun isn’t out, anymore. the light is dim, but it’s artificial. the lamp in the corner, he realizes.
there’s a hand carding through his hair. sabo makes a noise, turns his face up, and it stops.
“hey,” ace says, softly. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”
“you’re back,” sabo murmurs. 
“i told you i would be.”
“you did.” sabo blinks, trying to shake off sleep as he works to sit up, eventually settling on his elbows. “how did it go?”
“pretty good.” ace waves him off. “no issues.”
“what is it?”
ace wants to clam up, but he feigns ignorance instead, knowing sabo would catch it. “what’s what?”
sabo sits up further. “your injury. you said it was better than mine, but . .”
“oh. uh.” ace turns away, tilts his head back. “are you sure-”
“i’m sure,” sabo says, sat up all the way, now. he crosses his legs, leans closer. “if i can’t know about mine . . i’d like to know about yours.”
“yeah,” ace breathes. “okay.”
he shrugs his coat off, then tugs his shirt up, off, and over his shoulders. he no longer has the wrap on, so the damage is laid clear before sabo’s eyes. ace moves a hand over everything, explaining.
“i was stabbed in the lung.” he shrugs off sabo’s incredulous expression, pointing to a thick scar. “it wasn’t serious or anything. sounds a whole lot worse than it was. most of the damage came from a few ribs i cracked -that certainly made breathing a bitch. the rest is just bruising, though it’s mostly lower on my ribcage.”
sabo’s lips downturn. “how were you literally stabbed and i had it worse?”
ace reaches up to tap the side of his own head. sabo blinks.
“oh.”
“really, sab, i’m fine. i’m just glad you’re fine. i’m glad you’re alive.” he shrugs, working his shirt back on. “at least those guys aren’t.”
“they’re dead?” sabo utters, expression open. 
“yeah. some gang managed to break in, wanted revenge for something, i didn’t catch it all. anyway, we obviously weren’t with them, so we were left alone.” ace huffs out a hollow laugh. “though, that also meant they didn’t call for medical help. had to do that myself.” he drapes the coat over his back and tugs his arms through the sleeves. “anyway, it’s all over now. you don’t have to worry about any of it.”
sabo wonders, not for the first time, how ace manages to imply so much without actually revealing anything. he’s ripped from that thought as ace stands back up, eyeing the height of the moon through the window before moving to close the blinds.
“gotta go,” he says, waving to the door. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“yeah.” sabo leans back, only now aware of how tired he is. “see you.”
-
a man comes in with ace one day. he introduces himself, but sabo doesn’t bother to commit the name to memory. he’s a social worker, says he’s helping ace find a job. a real job, he specifies, and sabo isn’t sure if there’s an implication he’s supposed to get. ace looks disgruntled by the jab, but he doesn’t argue it.
“well, sabo, it appears you’ve entered a peculiar period in your recovery.” he folds his hands in his lap. “in short, the hospital is no longer willing to pay your expenses. they’ve passed the bill over to us.” he gestures to himself only as he says this, but sabo is still nervous. until his next words, that is. “you don’t need to worry about paying anything back. we’ll take it from here until you’ve recovered. all i ask is that you give your very best effort to the things i tell you to try. that sound good?”
“yeah. sounds good.” sabo hesitates for a moment, then adds on “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” he smiles. “there’s no need to thank me, though. this is my job.”
sabo shrugs. “still.”
“well, i appreciate the sentiment. ace has told me about your amnesia. the surgery you underwent was a tricky one, it seems. according to the staff, you seem to have almost healed up, physically. you haven’t appeared to regress any, on that account. and your anterograde amnesia is pretty much nonexistent. if you’re willing to progress, there are some options for you.”
sabo isn’t sure how to reply. he must sense that, because he offers something else.
“on that note, have you thought about undergoing any exercises to help recall your memory?”
“i guess i hadn’t thought that was an option.”
“it most certainly is on the table, if you would like to try it,” he offers.
sabo doesn’t even have to think about it. “that sounds great.”
“glad to hear it.”
-
sabo gets the bandages around both arms removed early one week. it’s weird at first, having the skin so exposed to the air. the scars aren’t pretty, either, despite how well the tissue had healed in light of his constant picking at them. he grows self-conscious about it before too long, and takes to draping the loose blanket over his shoulders whenever he’s in the room, pulling it down so it hung over both arms and left his hands free to do tasks.
the first day ace writes it off, but the second he chalks it up to temperature and shrugs off his jacket to throw it around sabo’s shoulders instead, pulling the blanket down to his lap. 
sabo blinks a few times, startled into silence by the gesture. it’s not until ace moves back to his chair that he reaches up to pull the jacket closer, basking in the comfort it offered. 
“thank you,” he says, pulling his arms through the soft sleeves. the cuffs came down to his fingers, but they were stretchy, so he didn’t mind.
ace shrugs, glancing out the window. “it’s getting colder, now that the new year has passed,” he notes. “snowing more, too. if you get cold, you should tell someone. they’ll do something about it.”
“oh.” sabo bites down on his lip to keep from huffing out a laugh. “yeah, sure. i’ll remember that.” he tugs the cuffs further over his hands, then fusses with the blanket thrown over his legs. even if ace did misunderstand, the intention was nice.
he takes the jacket back before he leaves, ushered out by the staff after visitor hours had ended for the night. sabo wraps himself in the blanket and pulls the sheets over his legs. his fingers dig into his arms, press against the raised scar tissue.
ace comes back early the next morning and throws his jacket around sabo before doing anything else. he leans close to adjust it, and for once, sabo sits calmly and lets him do it. it’s not until he’s pulling on sabo’s arm, skin pressed into the space around his scar, that sabo reacts. it’s entirely unintentional, but his heart stutters and his chest stops moving and ace notices, of course he does, pausing to loosen his grip.
and then, as if it clicks, he slides his hand around until his thumb traces the scar line. sabo sucks in a breath and ace puts one leg on the bed to slide closer, grabbing both of sabo’s arms, now.
“you’re okay,” he murmurs, face close but eyes on sabo’s injuries. sabo lifts his own from where ace is smoothing his skin to gaze into clear grey. the nearness doesn’t escape him.
ace glances up, just an instant, just enough to catch sabo staring. he sucks in a deep breath, stills his hands to grip just a little harder, and leans forward to press his forehead to sabo’s. his eyes are trained on the blond’s mint gown. “you don’t like seeing them,” he voices.
“no,” sabo replies, after a moment. his pitch is unsteady. 
“i’m sorry i-”
“it’s okay,” sabo tells him, barely above a whisper. “you helped. thank you.”
ace pulls back, and then he’s slowly pulling sabo’s arms through the sleeves of his jacket, until the whole thing hung loose on his thin frame. ace bites on his lip, tries not to think about how much weight sabo had lost here, tries not to think about how he can’t solve the problem, because there’s no clear solution to scars, and no right answer to give to reminders of pain.
it’s snowing when ace has to leave. sabo tugs the jacket off and gives it back, unwilling to let him go without it on underneath his coat. he pulls the blanket around him and tries not to think about how nice it would be to hold onto it. 
ace doesn’t know what to think. sabo hadn’t shied away from the rope burns on his ankles, or the thick cuts on his hands, or the gash on his cheek from the last bandaid to have come off. he’d seen the bruising on his chest without giving rise to panic, and made peace with the welt above his collarbone. so what is it about this one that had him so worked up? 
ace stops short as the elevator dings and doesn’t move to exit when the doors open. was it that he was associating subconscious feelings with the scars? maybe he couldn’t recall the event, but were the emotions from that day slowly starting to come back?
the doors close and ace jerks a hand out to catch them, digging his phone out as he passes through. 
-
“here!”
sabo’s face scrunches as he inspects the simple package thrust at him. his forehead creases, and it’s visible, for once. it no longer hurts, either, which is why his headwrap was finally removed. 
“okay,” he mutters, letting the package fall into his hands. he flexes his fingers to push the jacket cuffs to his wrists, then pushes the box open. inside is a mass of dark blue fabric.
sabo blinks, the creases leaving his face, and looks up at ace. “what’s this for?” he reaches in to bury his fingers into the plush knit, pulling it out and unfurling it as ace replies.
“well, your head is better. at least, the front part is, so i thought we could celebrate.” ace chews on his lip as sabo lifts the scarf. “here, let me.” he climbs onto the edge of the bed and takes the scarf from sabo’s hands, not sure why he’s nervous but feeling this incredible need to do the task himself. he loops the scarf and moves it over sabo’s head, careful to avoid the back of his skull as he pulls it down, loops it again, and ties it at the back. he’d been half right: the front part of sabo’s skull, where his brain had impacted, was completely healed. but he’d suffered a major injury on the back, and it was still sensitive there, from what he’d gathered. ace is very careful as he ties the scarf off, then sinks back on his knees, stomach settling when he takes the view in.
sabo is looking down at the scarf, one hand reached up to rub the knit between his fingerpads. “that was quick notice,” he mutters.
“i told you i would bring you something blue before you left the hospital.”
“i’m not leaving toda-” sabo pauses, mouth open. “you did?”
“you probably don’t remember,” ace offers with a sigh.
sabo’s lips tremble. “i’m so-”
“no, please don’t!” ace insists. “it was- i mean, i told you while you still had short-term memory. it was my fault.” he shrugs. “it was more like a vow to myself, if anything.”
“okay,” sabo says, moving over the syllables slowly. “it’s nice.” he drops his hand. “thank you.”
“is the color okay? i tried to get one dark enough-”
“it’s fine,” sabo interrupts, eyes lidding. “seriously. thank you.”
ace opens his mouth again, but no words come out as he walks himself through the facts. sabo waits patiently, setting the empty box aside. he leans back against the pillows, tugging the knot to the side so that it didn’t rest right on his neck. ace works through everything and comes to a slow realization. 
“your favorite color was navy,” he says. “before . .” he doesn’t finish. “it’s not anymore.”
sabo turns his eyes away, down to his lap, where he’s unconsciously brushing a thumb over the jacket cuff. he moves away from the dark red to the bright, saturated ruddy of ace’s coat. “no, it’s not.”
ace really doesn’t know how to feel, and sabo interrupts his inner turmoil with a question before he can get sucked too far into it.
“is that okay?” he does his best to smile when ace’s eyes turn on him. “if i change . . will that be okay?”
ace snaps himself out of it the instant he realizes how fragile sabo’s expression has become. he doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but he’s suddenly leaning close to sabo, both hands gentle on the sides of his face. sabo’s eyes are wide, and then ace is kissing him.
he makes a noise and ace jerks back, hands falling away. “sorry!” he apologizes. “i- sorry, god, i’m sorry, i don’t know what-”
“it’s okay.” sabo’s voice is quiet. ace drops his arms from when he’d been scrubbing his face, hair now a mess. sabo isn’t looking at him. “it’s okay, really,” he says again, but the tension hasn’t left his shoulders, and ace needs a distraction before he screws up more.
he raises his fingers to form a frame, sabo’s head in the middle. “you still look the best in blue,” he says, willing to ignore the waver in his voice. “way better than the green they stuck you in.”
sabo snorts, and slowly, the earlier mood begins to unravel. he forces himself to relax. “i’ll take your word for it.”
“do. it’s fact.”
“because everything you say is always true.”
ace sobers at this. “it is.” he waits until sabo is focused on him. “with you. ever since you woke up.”
sabo has to swallow before he can answer. there’s still a bob in his throat, just like there’s still a phantom feeling of chapped lips on his own. he manages to speak through them. “i know. it’s why i decided to start trusting you.” he reaches forward and ace reads his intention, catches his hands in his own. “you’ve been here,” he almost breathes, voice very quiet. “even when i didn’t want you to be.” he pauses when his voice cracks, taking a moment to collect himself. “you never left, and you never lied, and you never let me forget you were supporting me.” he squeezes, and ace squeezes back. “and i’m sorry, that my memory went away. but i’m here, right here, and i care about you now. and i won’t let anything change that.” he smiles, his next inhale shaky. “and i know you won’t, either.”
ace can’t help when the tears run down his cheeks. he doesn’t move to stop them, only sniffling, and bringing their joined hands to his chest, and then bending forward again, gathering courage.
sabo moves his head off the pillows to meet him.
-
sabo’s assigned social worker interrupts ace’s excited rambling to politely ask him to leave the room. sabo’s smile falls when it becomes just the two of them. he’d never been able to read this one, though that might have more to do with him being the first outsider sabo had met. his social circle had been restricted to the hospital staff that attended to him, and ace. even if sabo had been proficient at reading people in the past, his limited interaction had taken some sort of toll.
“sorry, he didn’t do anything wrong,” his caseworker assures him, sensing the animosity. “he’s been very assertive, though, and i haven’t had the chance to ask your opinion.” he leans forward in his seat. “do you want to go with ace? there are other options, if you decide you’d be better off apart.”
sabo takes a minute to process this. he knows it’s only being asked out of concern, but his first intention is to take it the wrong way. he works to settle himself, and then figure out a rational response.
“i think,” he begins, “that. even if i can’t be sure ace isn’t fabricating the whole thing, it feels wrong to assume that, now. and it feels right to be with him. i only have his word to go off of, yes. but i can tell we’re meant to be together.” he shrugs. “i- i know that doesn’t sound very convincing, and maybe i’m not fully convinced myself, but i’ve been having these feelings, and the doctor said that even if the memory associated with it doesn’t return, the emotions that surface are still real.” sabo stops before he can ramble too much in that direction, looking back up. “i do want to go with him.”
“you’ve convinced me,” he hums. “even if you haven’t fully convinced yourself.” he leans back. “one more question.”
“okay?”
“are you sure you still want to remember?”
again, sabo takes some time to organize his thoughts. he comes to a conclusion that is startlingly succinct. “whatever happened before, i promised i wouldn’t stop caring about him. i’m not willing to hold myself back on that regard.”
his caseworker smiles. “works for me. how about we start psychotherapy monday?”
part 2 | notes
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ellewritesathing · 4 years
Text
Infernal  -  V
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 4.1k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 5
A/N: it’s been a rocky few days for me but!! here we are!! i hope you guys enjoy this 💕
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Earth felt more otherworldly than Hell did when you got back. Roz and Dorcas were back to themselves, Lilith was nowhere to be found, and your lips still burned where they’d met Caliban’s. You’d had to put on a cool expression when you were with the others - no, you didn’t find anything, it was just a boring research session - but you let yourself feel as you stashed the sword and helmet. 
Caliban had said they (and you) weren’t safe in Hell. Caliban. You’d kissed him. He’d kissed you. Caliban. You got tangled up in his hair. He got tangled up in you. Caliban. Even his name was pretty, rising and falling like a wave in the ocean. Caliban, Caliban, Caliban. The only problem was that you didn’t know if you were afraid to swim.
You hid your feelings away with the helm and the sword, and then shut the door on your cupboard. Taking a breath, you thought clearly for the first time since you’d gotten home about everything that had happened in the past few hours. Your head was clear enough to notice the sinking feeling in your stomach and how quiet the house was. Something was wrong with your dad. 
You checked his room before tiptoeing to all his usual hiding spots. You circled back to find him curled up in his covers. You’d missed him the first time because of how messy the room was and how much stuff was strewn around him on the bed. Stepping around the piles of junk and trying not to notice all the broken glass, you knelt in front of the bed and put a hand on his back. 
“Dad, what happened?” you asked as gently as you could. No reply. “Where’d Lilith go?” He wasn’t even blinking; he just stared straight ahead at the wall like you weren’t even there. Sighing, you changed tactics. “What happened to Kali?” 
“They took her,” he said, voice sounding far away. Any sparks leftover from your trip to Hell were extinguished with that ghostly shell of your father’s voice. “I- I tried to stop them but … they dragged her out by her hair.” 
Despite the bad lighting, you could make out a very nasty bruise forming around his eye and a split in his lip. Keeping your voice level and dropping your gaze, you asked, “Who were they?” 
“The Dark Lord and his puppet.” The venom in his voice made you look back up. He was looking at you - staring at you - for the first time since you came home. You almost stopped breathing. “She needs help, little lily, but there's nothing I can do.” 
“I’ll figure something out, okay?” you promised. “Get some sleep.”
Sleeping was easier said than done, especially when Sabrina sent a text about waning powers and a banshee outside her house. Your lack of sleep made the next day foggy, but you had a vague idea of what you needed to do: tell your friends about Lilith being your mom and then figure out what the hell happened to her when you were in Hell. 
You tried telling Theo and Harvey the whole morning, but the words died on your lips almost as soon as you started to say anything. And Sabrina had the final challenge to deal with, so she wasn’t there to tell you to stop being a coward. Deciding just to bite the bullet, you leaned over in your chair and motioned for your friends to do the same. “Okay, so I know we all freaked out when Sabrina told us-” 
“Shh! Settle down, children!” Mrs. Wardwell cut you off as she rushed into the classroom, closing the door behind her. “Please, I am not in the mood today for your foolish …” she looked around like there was a fly buzzing past her head. “Chitter-chatter.” 
She had the exact same face as your mother, but the way she wore it was impossibly different. Always nervous, always scared. 
You and Harvey shared a look while Roz and Theo exchanged some side-eye before each of you sank back into your seats. Your revelation would have to wait. 
“Jeez, what’s wrong with her?” Theo whispered. 
The intercom rang out with one of Mrs. Meeks’ announcements before any of you could answer. The carnival was inviting the entire town for their Final Night Festivities; free admission, rides, and caramel apples to anyone who came. And if that wasn’t unsettling enough, she kindly requested the four of you to report to the principal's office to collect some exclusive prizes. 
You all knew that something bad was going to happen as you gathered up your things, but you didn’t exactly expect it to happen as soon as you rounded the corner in the hallway. The carnival ringleader stepped out and your breath hitched. This was the first time you’d ever actually set eyes on him, and he was terrifying. 
Harvey was the first to react, shoving you and Theo to the side and yelling at you guys to run. Once he was sure the three of you were inside, he locked the library doors and shut off all the lights while the rest of you scrambled for places to hide. 
“Lilith,” you whispered, closing your eyes to help you drown out the sound of Theo and Harvey’s bickering. “I don’t know where you are or if this praying thing even works, but get me and my friends out of here and we’ll talk about you training me, okay? Now.”
“Guys, shh!” Roz warned. 
The doors to the library creaked open, but you weren’t in the library when you opened your eyes again. You were in an empty classroom. Why would Lilith bring you to an empty classroom? 
“Seems I got to you just in time.” 
The voice clearly did not belong to Lilith. Relaxing muscles that you didn’t know were tensed, you turned to Caliban. He wasn’t the same as before; he had a dark cloud of his own today. His face was hard and his eyes were cold. 
“We have to go back for the others,” you rushed out, reaching for his hand and ignoring whatever was going on with him for the moment. He didn’t waiver from his spot. “Caliban, come on. What’s wrong?” 
“You’d go back there, with Pan and the Gorgon, to rescue your friends?” he asked. Even his voice was cold, and he wasn’t answering your question.
“Yeah, of course.” Something was unshakably wrong, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You raised a hand to the side of his neck and softened your hold on his hand. “I’d go back for you, too.”
Something inside Caliban seemed to click and his gaze faltered, eyes falling down to your hands on his skin. So much had changed. “Your friends are across the hall. The hobgoblin got to them before anything happened to them.” He took a step back, out of your grip. So much was still changing. “I need to see to the final challenge of the Unholy Regalia.” 
“Caliban, wait-” 
And then it was just you and the leftover heat from the hellfire. 
Cursing, you cut your losses with Caliban and bolted to the classroom across the hall. When you got there, Harvey was arguing with Robin. Clearly, you’d missed something. Clearly, they hadn’t missed you.
“-can’t just leave!” Harvey was using his I’m-not-yelling-at-you voice to yell at Robin. “We have to fight. We have to stop that from happening. We need-”
“Sabrina,” Roz interrupted. “We need Sabrina, we do. Except that I think she’s still in Hell.”
“Yeah, they’re still busy with the final challenge of the unholy regalia,” you said as Theo wrapped you in a hug. You tried to shake off the weirdness of your last interaction with Caliban. “I don’t know if we can get to her down there.”
It was quiet for a second before Roz bounced slightly and clapped her hands together. “We can use that magick marker of hers. The one that she used to IM Nick. It’s in her locker.” 
“Do you know her locker number?” Robin asked. 
“And combination,” Roz grinned.
You and Roz went to grab the magick marker from Sabrina’s locker while the others waited in Harvey’s pickup truck. After piling in and sending Sabrina a message, Harvey drove you all back to his garage to wait for her to answer. It didn’t seem like it was coming any time soon. 
“Still no word back from Sabrina,” Roz sighed. 
“What’s taking her so long?” Harvey asked.
“Harvey, we don’t even know if she got the message,” Roz said, leaning back and shaking her head. 
Nick appeared in the corner without you noticing. You were so used to Caliban doing that that you didn’t even jump this time. “She didn’t, but I did.”
“That was meant for Sabrina,” Roz told him as you got to your feet.
“Well, that’s not how the magick marker works,” Nick said. There was a bite to his words. “And I wouldn’t expect her back anytime soon. Now, who needs help, and why?” 
Before you got the chance to answer, Sabrina materialized in the corner. “Guys! You’re okay,” she said as she rushed in. She had the relief on her face of someone who was incredibly stressed but just had found their favorite chocolate bar at the bottom of their bag. “It’s not too late.” 
“What do you mean ‘too late’?” Theo asked. 
“And where did you come from?” you asked. If she was here, was Caliban still in Hell?
“The pagans are coming,” Sabrina said. “You have to come with me, now.” 
“Okay, I don’t understand,” Nick said, grabbing her arm to stop her from running off again. “I just saw you walk through a portal at Dorian’s to beat Caliban.”
“You were right, Nick,” Sabrina said, shaking her head. “I let everything in Hell pull me away from what really matters: my family, my friends, and everything I love. But not anymore.”
She shut down any questions you asked and made you all hold hands. Sabrina said some words and in a flash, you were back in Dorian’s Gray Room. Zelda was lying on a table but bolted upright, shouting that she had the answers, almost as soon as Sabrina touched her. 
But Hilda … she hadn’t resurrected yet. 
One very inspiring speech from Zelda later and you were holding hands with Sabrina and the witches in a circle around the Cain Pit. Electricity coursed through you as Zelda called on the Triple Goddess, not just because it was a powerful moment but also because this was your first ritual. You didn’t want to stop that electricity.
The power you felt when Hilda’s hand shot up through the dirt was indescribable. You’d never felt that way before, but you were determined to feel it again. Helping the Spellmans with the town’s lullaby was a close second, but it was just a taste of the real thing. You wanted to know what you were capable of. 
Getting rid of the pagans was the exact opposite of those feelings. You couldn’t chase them through the woods and hunt them for sport. It left a bitter taste in your mouth and made you feel sick.
What you needed was someone to show you how to use these powers, and despite everything you’d been through with your friends - or maybe because of everything you’d been through - there was only one person you could think of to help you.
And he was still in Hell. 
At least, you thought he was still there. Sabrina was very vague about what happened to her in Hell, only that you didn’t have to worry about it anymore. She’d tell you if she won, right? She’d at least tell you if she’d taken Caliban up on his proposal - if that proposal was even still on the table, which you hoped it wasn’t. 
You were driving yourself crazy. Standing still before you paced a rut in your bedroom floor, you took a breath. The necklace would take you to Caliban, wherever he was, but it wouldn’t bring you back. You grabbed the borrowed spellbook and took off the necklace. The shell was pretty, more shades of blue than you remember, and it made an equally pretty crunching noise as you ground it under your shoe. 
The shell sucked all the air out of your lungs and darkened your vision. When it faded enough for your vision to return, you found yourself in a cold, dusty cave. The wall in front of you was carved with the names of Cassius, Brutus, and Judas Iscariot and the catacombs behind you were all dim and drafty. Either the shell was a bust or Caliban was skulking around these tombs somewhere. 
“Caliban?” Your voice echoed through the tunnels and made your hair stand on end. Debating whether to take your chances in the tunnels or wait around and hope the best, you leaned against one of the carvings and thought about it. Wraiths or tunnel demons, wraiths or tunnel demons, wraiths or- 
The cave wall started shifting under your side and you jumped back to the middle of the tunnel. Caliban stared at you under the Iscariot nameplate, looking equal parts relieved and distrusting. 
“Here to punish me again, are you?” The distrust won out. He hadn’t seemed this cruel since that first day in Hell, putting on a show for the Lords of Chaos. At least then he looked cocky, now he just looked sad. “The imitations are getting better, Izamael, I’ll give you that.” 
“What did they do to you?” you asked softly, reaching a feather-light hand to the side of his face. His eyes flickered at the touch and anger flared under the stone. “Hey, if you bite me, I’m going to set the wraiths on you. I don’t quite know how it works yet, but I-” 
“How are you here?” 
“Magic necklace.” You drew hand back and straightened up, folding your hand over your chest. “Your turn.”  
“As it turns out, you can’t betray just anyone to satisfy the betrayer challenge,” Caliban said with a sigh. He was shifting under the stone and he looked pained for a moment. Did it hurt him to be like that? You didn’t think he’d tell you if it did. 
“So they just stick you in here, then?” you asked. You looked around at the dark rocky walls and shifted uncomfortably. “Additionally, where is ‘here?’” 
“The seventh circle of Hell, love,” Caliban answered. “You should get back to Earth. I’ll find you as soon as I can.” 
“I’m not leaving you when you’re stuck in this stone,” you said. “How do we get you out of that?” 
“I’m made of clay, remember?” Caliban said like it answered your question. He almost laughed when you rolled your eyes at him. “Now that I’m awake, I should be able to get out of this just fine.” 
You didn’t understand how that worked, but you didn’t feel like arguing so you just nodded and took a few steps back to the cave wall. “I’ll be right here if you change your mind.” 
“You shouldn’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
“Don’t get all martyr-like on me,” you said as you eased yourself down the side of the rocky wall. “I need your help to get out of here, Clay Boy.” 
“I don’t think you need my help to do anything,” Caliban said, small smile on his lips. 
Neither you nor the butterflies in your stomach knew how to answer that one, so you settled for trying to make yourself comfortable. The problem - other than just about everything about being in Hell again - was that no matter how you sat or laid down, there was always a rock poking into your back. Or a pebble sticking into your side. Or dust on your face. 
With every twist and turn, your body went a little bit more numb and the tunnel became a little bit more bearable. You weren’t sure when exactly the whispers of the tunnel put you to sleep, but then someone reached out to wake you up and you bolted up to push them away. 
When you saw it was Caliban, you slumped back against the stone. “Jesus, what are you-” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Where are your clothes?” 
“Rather difficult to bring clothing through the minutiae of stone,” Caliban said. He reached out for you again and felt your neck for a pulse. His hands burned your skin. “Your heartbeat is slow. You’ve been here too long.”
“Next time I’ll just leave you with the wolves,” you said as you pushed yourself up a bit straighter. Your brain was pounding against your skull. “Can you take us back now?” 
“It took most of my strength to break free of the stone, but I can recite the spell and you can repeat it,” Caliban said. “Can you focus on my voice?” 
“I can focus on a lot of things, but I don’t know if I can do that,” you said. “I’m not- I’m not like you and Sabrina. I’m just … me.”
“And you are far more powerful than you think,” Caliban said. “There is something more to you.” 
Something more. 
Damn Caliban and his appeal to your sense of vanity. You nodded and listened carefully to the words of the spell before reciting them to the best of your sleep-deprived abilities. You had to repeat it before anything happened, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping for the best. 
When you opened your eyes again, you, Caliban, and the spellbook were sitting on your bed in the dark. Your insides felt muddled, making you worry that you’d done something wrong until Caliban laughed next to you. 
“I wasn’t sure that would work for a second there,” he confessed, still shaking his head. 
You reached for a pillow and smacked him with it. “What do you mean you weren’t sure that would work?” 
“I was thinking of all the places I could hide you until we sneak out of Hell,” Caliban said. He looked amused as you glared at him. He shook his head and collapsed back onto your bed. “Pandemonium was never an option, though with Lilith’s blessing … We could have gone to the Shores of Sorrow, but there are more places to hide in the- Why are you looking at me like that?” 
He’d caught you thinking that he almost looked happy on your half-made bed and in your messy room. You bit your cheek and shook your head. “You’re getting dust all over my bed,” you lied. 
“Dust,” Caliban repeated. You nodded again and he smiled to himself. “Where can I go to clean myself up?”
 “Uh, down the hall and to the left,” you said, pointing in the direction he should go. “I’ll bring some clothes and leave them outside the door. Just, um, be quiet, okay? My dad isn’t the best with visitors.” 
Caliban nodded, not pushing your flimsy excuse as he stood up and wandered out the door. He took all the air of the room with him, but at least it gave you a chance to think. 
You had no idea how you’d explain this - whatever this was - to your friends. You didn’t know if Caliban would go back to Hell after losing the challenges. You weren’t sure what to do about your newfound magic. But you knew that Harvey left some sweats and a giant hoodie here for whenever he needed to get away from his family, so you dug them out and left them outside the bathroom door. 
Your dad was still passed out in his room when you went past, upper body at an uncomfortable angle and lower body dangling off the bed. You tiptoed in and fixed his legs before shutting the door and heading back to your room. After a quick change and tidy up, you climbed under the covers. The cold from the tunnels was unshakeable, no matter how much time passed. 
The door creaked open and you peeked around the blankets. Caliban hovered just inside your door, looking more unsure than you’d ever seen him in Harvey’s old clothes. He was too tall for them, too ethereal for your bedroom. 
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come sit with me?” you asked, sliding yourself up to lean against the wall. 
He tilted his head at you. “You’re inviting me into your bed?” 
“I’m inviting you to talk,” you corrected. “But if you’re going to make it weird then you can take the chair.” 
“The chair that is piled high with clothing and books?” 
“Make. Your. Choice.” 
Caliban shook his head and padded over to the side of your bed. He motioned for you to make space and got under the covers next to you. He sighed as he made himself comfortable. “What do you want to talk about?” 
You looked down at your hands, choosing your words carefully. “Do you remember what the wraiths said before they came after us? What they called me?” 
“The daughter of the winged and taloned demon of night,” Caliban said. “Names hold a certain power, especially a name like Lilith.”
Her name hung in the air, poisoning the space between you. You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your throat was anger or something softer as you looked up at him. 
“How long have you known?” 
One thing about Caliban that infuriated you was that he never looked away. Eye contact with him was both a personal invitation for something more and also a challenge. He never backed down from a challenge. Except now. 
“When we met in Hell, I knew you weren’t entirely human but I only pieced it together later. Lilith is … softer towards you than she is to your friends.” He chose his words carefully, seemingly deciding whether or not to hold your hand. “The wraiths didn’t leave much room for interpretation.” 
“Were you ever going to tell me?” 
You watched his face carefully for any flicker of bad intentions. He didn’t change. 
His voice was soft when he looked up and said, “I’d like to think so.” 
You made the decision for him and reached for his hand, giving him a small smile as you tried to figure out what else there was to say. He beat you to it. 
“I shouldn’t hope to know the way you feel about me,” he said, holding your gaze. 
An invitation or a challenge?
“And yet here we are,” you said, deciding it was a challenge. 
It made him smile, a hollow laugh escaping through his lips. You thought he was going to say something witty - keeping the back and forth going until it became unbearable - but in a swift movement, he untangled one hand and used it to cup your face. He kissed you and every part of you lit up. 
He pulled away slowly, forehead resting lightly against yours. Your heart raced at the thought of what he might say. “You’re still very cold.”
You didn’t think he’d say that. “Uh, yeah, I guess. It’s from the tunnels.” 
“Your soul drifted too far as you slept,” Caliban said. He cursed himself before repositioning as you stared at him. He nodded his head for you to lay with him and then placed his hands around yours. A shiver went down your spine. “Repeat after me.” 
You wanted to argue that you weren’t going to say spells without knowing what they did, but you wanted to lie in his arms more. You repeated Caliban’s words slowly and watched as a tiny blue flame sparked between your hands. It grew until there was a ball of flames prickling your palms. White and blue, just like the necklace.
“This was the first spell I learned when I awoke on the Shores of Sorrow,” Caliban said softly. His breath tickled your neck as he did. “These balls of light were the only things that kept me company while the souls of the damned drowned. Now they can keep you warm.” 
You turned your head to look at him and found him still looking at the fireball with a vulnerable sense of familiarity. It broke your heart. “You know, you’re a lot nicer than I first thought.” 
He frowned and turned to face you as best he could without disturbing the way you tangled together. “Don’t call me nice.” 
“What’s wrong with being nice?” you asked. 
“Nice is what you call someone who lacks a spine or someone who wants something from you.” He leaned in close enough to kiss you, but instead he stole your breath to say, “You’d get bored of nice within an instant.” 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of you.” 
Like a wave in the ocean.
Were you still afraid to swim?
Part 6
Tag List:  @caliban-is-my-girl  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @music-movies  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​  @mschfavngz​  @artaxerxesthegreat​  @thxmagic​  @luquincy  @strawberriesandknives​  @xealia​  @hotmessindisguise​  @olivia-west-allen  @sweetrogers​  @reheated-coffee​  @shelby-x​ 
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whumptober · 4 years
Text
Whumtober 2020 - OBSOLETE PLEASE SEE NEW PINNED POST
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**This prompt list is incorrect.  Please see the updated event info here.**
Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here. 
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME
Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging
No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped
No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building
No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue
No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"
No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker
No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation
No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice
No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood
No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying
No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust
No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire
No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong
No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage
No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia
No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt
No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval
No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection
No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal
No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation
No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears
No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness
No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage
No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged
No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest
No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury
No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead
Event Info
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruised, #stabbed,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom/OC
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#tw:, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags)
#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020 blog. They must be tagged in the order above.
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.
Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?
Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
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francoiserenaldt · 4 years
Text
then comes the touch (then comes the rush)
or five times desirée thinks about giving the boy with the stars in his eyes her heart and the one time she realizes that he’s had it the whole time. Takes place during the second semester of senior year. Inspired by @/yoonsgiggle’s ways to show affection. for day 3 of @it-lives-week.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: a pinch of angst toward the end because it was getting a bit sweet for my liking, too much pining for an established relationship, they’re both idiots but in different ways, toxic amount of fluff
1.
Snow litters the school grounds as she trudges through it. The school’s obsession with having no less than 5 pep rallies a quarter has her out of her bed and at school at 7 in the morning to oversee the preparations.
Luckily, she wouldn’t need to endure the torture alone. Everyone in cheer, band, swim, wrestling, and basketball all had to be there for a completely unnecessary rehearsal that only served to tire the performers and wear on everyone else’s patience.
There was one benefit to today’s assembly: Andy would be there this time.
This would be his first day back since homecoming. The first day they’d be back in school since they’d kissed in the gymnasium and the first day they’d get a chance to be together since everything went wrong. 
It had felt so weird to go from seeing him every day and getting close to him being holed up in a sterile room for most of the day. The days seemed to get emptier without him; even texts couldn’t fill the void his presence left.
Misattribution of arousal, her therapist had called it. 
While the implication that Desirée had confused herself was...offensive to say the least, it had at least made some sense. No way could she have been feeling low just because of some boy that she was talking to, right?
There was only one way to find out.
“Desirée!”
“Hey stranger. I’d ask how life’s treating you but…”
He barks out a laugh, gesturing to his crutches. “Yeah, I’ve been better. And you? How have things been?”
“You know, I…” She trails off.
Before she can even think about finishing her sentence, his hand is on her arm. The touch sends a rush of warmth through her body and she thanks the Lord that she opted for multiple layers today.
He’s been back all of two hours, which means she should chill, right?
Her heart doesn’t seem to get the memo. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” 
It’s a complete lie, of course, and definitely not what he asked. She couldn’t be further from okay when his totally normal and platonic comforting gesture is awakening things she thought she’d buried and telling her that it’s very likely that she hadn’t misattributed a damn thing, which would be great except for the fact that she’s not sure if he can say the same.
(And despite the rational part of her brain yelling at her, she wants him to say the same.)
(She’s so screwed.)
2.
A few weeks pass after the encounter in the hallway and they find themselves back in the town square after school. They walk, or rather she walks and he limps, into the town park and find a park bench.
She quickly learns that practice had been a complete disaster; apparently being benched and injured still didn’t save Andy from microaggressions. It was interesting that they chose to focus on him when their attitudes weren’t saving them from an abysmal win-loss record, even after the strong start of the season. 
In any case, he was unhappy and that couldn’t stand. 
When they finally located a park bench, Andy raised an eyebrow when she didn’t sit next to him. “What are you doing?”
“Lean back.”
There’s an unmistakable déjà vu that overcomes her when her hands find their way to his shoulders.
(“Your…very toned shoulders look tense.”)
(“My very toned shoulders would love a shoulder rub.”)
His head tilts back after a minute or so–she must be doing it right this time–and...now they’re looking at each other.
A sharp chill crawls up her spine and she nearly shudders under the intensity of it. It shouldn’t be this hard to look away
There’s no telling how long it’s been or if her hands are even moving anymore.
Right. Shoulder rub.
She tears her gaze from his and puts her all into obliterating the tension in his shoulders. She vaguely notes his head going back to its original position.
“Hey.”
She nearly swallows her tongue with the force she uses to gulp any nervousness down. “Hey.”
“You good?”
“That’s my line,” she smiles gently. This is much better, the banter and the mutual flirting she’s used to. She doesn’t bother lingering on the concern in his voice. “I’m supposed to be helping you right now.”
“We can help each other,” he counters smoothly. “And you were going a little hard there.”
“Oh, sorry–”
“Don’t be. Felt good.” He tilts his head back again and grins when he finds her eyes again. “Just wanted to see where your head’s at.”
“My head is doing great, thanks. Spectacularly, in fact.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“So are you all good or…”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m set. Thanks.”
Her heartbeat still thunders a mile a minute in her ears as she breathes out, “Any time.”
She reluctantly slides her hands off of his shoulders and moves –a little too quickly– to sit next to him. His arm finds its way onto her shoulders and she relaxes instantly, resting her cheek on top of his head, and she briefly imagines being able to fall asleep like this: with his arms around her shoulders, or even her waist, and his warm cheek resting on the column of her neck.
She erases the thought immediately and glances at him, finding him deep in thought as well. 
A light nudge brings him back to her and she pops the question: “Where did you go?”
He chuckles, his warm breath hitting her neck and rendering her breathless yet again. This getting flustered business is the worst. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about the beginning?”
The comment only yields her a huff. “You’re so mean to me, you know that?”
“Yeah, right. Unfortunately for you, there’s no pool nearby to push me into this time.”
“Fountain’s gotta be close enough, right?” His arms move faster than lightning, sliding under her knees and around her waist before she could catch her breath.
“Andy Kang, don’t you dare!” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The good news, she finds, is that she did not get soaked in gross fountain water and there’s no way he’s not into her. A net win, you would think.
The tradeoff for that -she can never just have nice things- is that she was into him in September. Knew she liked him in October. Now that it’s February, she maybe even l-
Oh no.
3.
It’s not a big deal when it happens.
She’s just left a student council meeting and, if memory serves, she has a two minute window to leave the premises before one of her teachers needs help or Lucas suggests another membership drive proposal for next month’s meeting.
She’s flying down the second set of stairs –she’s down to a minute now– when she sees him.
He’s freshly showered –practice must have ran late again– and changed, his damp black hair pushed back from his face. He’s hauling ass too for some reason, barely even looking up from his phone. Maybe he won’t even see her if she runs fast enough and she can text him later–
Sure enough, he glances up and grins brilliantly when he sees her. It’s only natural that she returns it. 
She closes the few feet separating them and he’s still got that sappy grin on his face when she stands next to him.
“How was practice?”
“Boring as always. Student council?”
She gives him a look. Why they even bother with words anymore is beyond her.
“Heh, heard ya loud and clear. Wanna get out of here?” He extends his hand in her direction. She feels the tip of his middle finger brush against her knuckles and her heart starts beating ridiculously fast.
She takes it in hers, a little too eagerly in hindsight, and threads her manicured fingers into his. “Gladly.”
She’ll overthink it for hours after the fact, but in the moment she just enjoys walking out of school with the boy she really, really likes. 
(If she more than likes him, then he doesn’t need to know that.)
4.
The school is weirdly energized today; students rush about, talking about weekend plans and that ridiculously hard test and other things that should not be repeated. (High school boys are gross.) Deadlines, extracurriculars, and the general dumpster fire that is life had all but killed the fight of the senior class, but not today.
Today, of course, is the first day of spring break. 
The sky seems to know it’s spring break too; the near constant drizzle of rain has let up for the day and the sun tentatively peeks its head out from a slowly widening gap of clouds, adding some long overdue warmth to the afternoon air.
It doesn’t compare to the smile on his face when their eyes meet.
“Desirée!” He calls out, jogging to envelope her in a hug.
Hugging definitely isn’t a new thing for them–hell, she’s easily hugged everyone in the group at least three times by now–but the way his head makes a home in the space between her neck and shoulder feels…intimate. Cozy, even. It’s far too comforting considering that she just saw him yesterday and they’re in the middle of the hallway (she’s definitely going to hear about this later) but she can’t bring herself to pull away. Not yet. 
He ends up being the one to break it, pulling away just enough to look up at her. “Hi.”
“Hi. Good day so far?”
“Better now.” He loops an arm in hers. “Wanna get lunch?”
“As long as you’re paying.”
5.
“Take a break.”
They’re in her living room -her parents decided to come home for once and no amount of brownie points gets you ‘boys in the bedroom’ privileges- on the couch. She’s supposed to be studying for her government test, a task that Andy seems adamant on impeding her from. 
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I asked you to.” The statement only produces a snort from her, and he nudges her lightly on the shoulder. “Pleeeeease? I’m bored.”
“Apologies, your Majesty King Kang, but I’m afraid I’ve misplaced my jester hat today.” She pouts in mock guilt before scoffing. “In the meantime, my government test isn’t going to ace itself.”
“Please, you could probably do this in your sleep.”
“And until I can definitely do this in my sleep, I have to keep going.”
She turns her body fully away from him for a few minutes and she finds her rhythm fairly quickly. As her brush pen draws the title of the next card, she allows herself a peek and Jesus Christ, is he pouting?
It’s childish. 
It’s completely immature. 
It’s...working?
Ughhhhhhhhhhh.
She shoves her flashcards into their corresponding case and slides them under the coffee table, huffing. “You are a terrible influence.”
“Yeah, but I’m a terrible influence that has your full and undivided attention.” He pecks her on the nose and grins at her unamused glare, “Now, what do you say we do something fun?”
+1
It’s the final day of high school.
Today should be a happy day; after all, staying goodbye to early morning classes and popularity contests is what she’s been dreaming of since the day she got there. 
There was just one problem: Andy wouldn’t be coming with her.
Despite the numerous hours of studying and makeup tests, there wasn’t enough time left in the school year to make up for his absences due to the medical leave he’d taken. Unless he somehow managed to pay the school for the amount of money he’d lost, he would have to sit for senior year all over again. 
He’d assured her that it wouldn’t be all bad; repeating the year gives him a chance to go out for basketball captain and Tom would be there with him, but there was no amount of silver linings that could change the fact that she’d been accepted into Cornell University and would be attending in the fall. 
Without him.
It’s not lost on her that she sounds absolutely pathetic. Most people could only dream of getting into an Ivy League university, let alone Cornell, and she’s considering giving all six years of relentless hard work and sleepless nights away for some boy just because she thinks she loves him. 
(They both know she won’t do it. She’s lost too much and has come too far.)
They’d put this off for too long as it is. 
“We’ve been apart before, right? We can do it again.”
“I just got you back, Andy. How am I supposed to be okay with losing you?”
“You won’t lose me.”
“How do you know that?”
“You won’t lose me because I love you, Desirée,” he reaches up to take her face into his hands, “That’s how.” 
Her eyebrows furrow, as if she’s confused. The idea breaks his heart. “You love me?”
“Of course I do.”
“I’m such an idiot.” She pulls away, shutting her eyes and shaking her head. “This whole time I’ve been trying to pace myself and…I really screwed things up, didn’t I?” 
“What are you talking about?”
“I love you, too. I didn’t want you to know until I knew you felt the same.”
“Why?”
“I’ve lost too many people as it is. If I lost you, I…” She purses her lips and looks away. “I couldn’t handle it.”
There’s no escaping the way that his lips feel on hers or the shiver that travels up her spine and honestly? She doesn’t want to. 
When he speaks again, their foreheads are pressed together–she’s practically bent over at this point and can’t bring herself to care–and his hands are still holding her face as if he thinks she’ll slip away. “You will never lose me, you hear me? There is nothing that you could do that’ll change that.”
She wants to believe him, wants to believe that he’s not making a promise that he can’t keep, so she does.
She knows she’ll kick herself for waiting this long when she gets home, but at that moment she enjoys walking out of her high school for the last time with the boy she loves.
(If he knows it too, that’s even better.)
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fictaetion · 3 years
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SAUDADE
Min Yoongi Imagine
Part 1
Saudade: Saudade is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves.
28 October 2020
Hello it's me Min Yoongi. I am still getting used to this. Writing about myself and talking about my everyday life to you. Not that it constitutes much, just basic things like eating, playing video games, working on music and playing with Holly. Oh have i told you yet i have a dog named Holly.
I was resentful about this at first knowing that I hadn't told Y/n about this. But further as I continued it I felt good. This way it is so  much better rather than meeting outside everyday.
Imagine getting caught by paparazzi, oh my I can't even imagine how much of a scandal it would be. Now that we have landed on the topic of paparazzi I somewhere think it's because of them that I have started to become anxious about going outside. 
I remember when I talked to you during our first meeting I have never felt so relieved talking to someone except Y/n. By the way, I am planning on telling her soon.
 I really can't hide it anymore. Is it wrong to do this while she is gone. What will she think of me? 
Okay this is good, i feel this is all I wanted to talk about today. Bye, hope to see you soon.
To, Kang Soowon
 
Looking over at the digital clock sitting on the desk, which displayed 6:00 pm indicating it was already evening. The shimmering orange hues shone in the apartment acting as a proof. 
Hitting the send button he relaxed back into his chair and stared up at the ceiling. The entire house was peaceful with just a few sounds from the cars passing by and Holly's barks. 
He had grown accustomed to these sounds for over a week now. These were the only things that made him feel he was not completely alone. His prominent source of chitter chatter and chaos had been out for a  week now. 
She had gone on a trek with bangtan as the only representative for the couple. On the other hand all the members had accompanied their wives or girlfriends. The youngest one Jungkook had also brought his daughter along with them for this trip. 
Funny how the maknae was the first one to be a father out of all of them. Even the eldest was married and had a stable married life now and following his footsteps were his younger brothers. 
Soon Taehyung was also going to propose to his long time girlfriend. Now the only one left was Yoongi. Yes he was dating you but that's it. There were no advances in the relationship yet. 
You both knew you loved each other dearly and had also confessed to each other previously. Not in a very romantic manner of course, it took place when Y/n presented Yoongi a plate of spaghetti which she made all by herself from scratch. 
Even though it was not the very best in regards to taste , he admired his girlfriend’s hard work and the love she had put into it. Her eyes focused on his face just to get a nod of approval from Yoongi. 
It wasn’t bad considering it was her first time making it. He looked up to give an appreciating remark to Y/n when her face lightly covered with flour came into his sight. 
Oh how cute she looked. But she was so eager to get feedback from him that she did not realize that he was staring at her face with a slight smile. 
“It’s good, really good!” Yoongi said, taking another bite out of the spaghetti and picking one bite for her to taste.
A frown formed on her face as soon it landed in her mouth. 
She started to mutter how bad and bland it tasted and asked Yoongi how he even managed to chomp down the whole plate, literally taking the last bite. “Why do you even bother eating this let alone finish the whole thing,why?” 
“Because I love you” Y/n’s constant emphasis of why and how seemed to have done its work subconsciously on Yoongi’s mind. When the reality of what had been spilled clicked both of them, their heads instantly turned to each other to take a glance at their partners faces. 
Both of them were trying to find any hints of cringe or “oh it came out by accident” kind of look on their face. But all they could decipher the stunned and honest looks they had.
”You love me Yoongi?” she asked him just to make sure that those words were not just tongue slips. This is the time Yoongi says it, say those words out loud to her, the words that you had been practicing secretly in the bathroom for weeks and even when working. 
Partly also because of Seokjin’s proposal video which he had decided to keep as an inspiration when it would be his time to do it. But alas! look at the situation where they were in both in their pyjamas in their not so clean house a complete 180 degree of his hyungs proposal. 
Not over candle light dinner but the dining table in his kitchen. Well now it's done and there is no turning back. His girlfriend’s voice broke his chain of thoughts when she presented the same question to her. 
Smiling he looked up at her, still a bit nervous but just wanted to get it out. “ Yes I do, I love you alot and I mean it, even if it's not the best place and situation to confess this but it's a fact” he looked up at her face to see what she had to say. 
Will she accept his feelings and reciprocate or will it just get overlooked?. “It's okay if… if you don't like me back I-'' before he could continue saying anything further her tiny palms were covering his face, thumb stroking his cheekbone.
Her face expresses a broad range of emotions whether it be happiness, excitement, but the most prominent one adoration and respect for her lover.” 
I love you too Yoongi, I love you too” with this a stream of tears flowed from her eyes. Yoongi was overjoyed and over the moon knowing that both of them were in the same place and mindset in their relationship. 
From now on it was just moving forward and not looking back. Both of them scooted close to each looking forward to kiss each other but before yoongi could even do anything Y/n turned her face around and yoongi’s lips landed on her cheek making her release a huge laughter which erupted and echoed throughout the room. 
“Yaah Y/n you better get back here and give me my kiss”Yoongi said with puckered lips. “Holly your appa finally said it he confessed to me” you said looking towards the dog you had been holding in your hand. 
He started to bark, wagging his tail at you, definitely not understanding the words you said but felt the emotions you radiated through your facial expressions. Yoongi felt his heart at ease, pulse lowering down and a surge of easiness rising in him, this is all he wanted and now finally he has what he had dreamt of, a stable life, a loving partner right in front of his eyes. 
“Psst Y/n” he called her trying to make eye contact. She stopped whatever she was busy with and looked at him and a tint covered her cheeks with a confident smile on her lips hearing the words “I love you” falling silently, inaudible but you could make out what he was saying.
You winked at him and muttered those same words ”I love you too”. 
The doorbell at their apartment rang making yoongi fall back into reality. He quickly understood it must have been the delivery guy which came with his lunch. 
He quickly took in the order and paid him his money. Yoongi had been ordering from the same restaurant you had been to. He even insisted for the same delivery guy knowing very well that he might get triggered if he saw anybody else. 
He was in the most vulnerable stage of his health right now. Knew he had to do everything in a wise manner or else the situation would completely turn 180 degree. 
He placed down the parcel on his table and started eating his food. He was in the middle of glancing through his media when a picture of you and all the boys popped up on his phone. There were a bunch of people standing around you guys, probably their fans and everyone was smiling at the camera. 
His eyes were only focused on you looking at your smile and your jacket clad figure, but besides you a guy who was intently gazing at you and smiling just by looking at you unlike others who were looking at the camera. 
Yoongi wasted no time to search for his profile and understood that it was your guys tour guide. He couldn't help the insecurity which was building up in his mind. 
He always knew you had an outgoing personality and would befriend everyone around you and yoongi on the other hand was a completely opposite person. Would only talk to the group of few people he trusted and never intended to know any other people the only exclusion for work related meetings. 
It's always a distraction to have too many people in your life he would say and firmly believed it too. The question of would you leave him for somebody else or would  you find someone much better than him would constantly go through his mind and now with his condition it increased even more. Suddenly he received a call which broke his chain of thoughts. 
The screen displayed the callers id: Kang Soowon. He instantly smiled looking at the call and picked up in hopes of clearing his mind by talking to her. It felt good to have someone around to talk to.
Few minutes had passed of him still talking on the phone, afew whispers and faint laughs could be heard from him. “Yes, even though I think I should let this all go, I could become a better person and have a better life I guess, thank you so much for helping me realize that Miss Soowon."
Hope I see you soon at the same place. Good night” he placed his phone down on the counter and was about to get up when a feminine voice came from behind him”Yoongi?” he instantaneously turned around to look at the source of a very familiar voice.
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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 4 years
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Water Under The Bridge (Akechi Goro x Akira Kurusu)
Pairing - Akira Kurusu x Akechi Goro.
Smut/Fluff/Angst - Some good ol’ fluff, I just want to write something nice and domestic. ♡( ◡‿◡ )
Warnings - None, just a nice story to feel good about!
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     It was an awfully chilly morning in Yongen-Jaya. Japan always started to get pretty chilly once October hit, due to Autumn coming to an end and the Winter months starting up. Nothing like a cup of hot coffee in a cozy coffee shop to make everything feel so comfortable. Akira would occasionally get a chill run down his back, when someone opened the front door and sat down. It was a Sunday so it was Akira’s turn to work the shop. Sojiro and him had come to an agreement when he decided to move back to Yongen-Jaya that he was gonna run the shop when he was off from school.  Sunday’s were usually the busiest days due the most of Japan getting a day off; but it was never busy enough to where Akira couldn’t handle it; it was a fairly small area after all.
     A couple of Akira’s friends stopped by, Morgana was out on the town with Ann so he didn’t have to worry about where he was. Yusuke always stops by on Sunday’s to chat with Akira about coffee and art, the usual, then leaves after about an hour; spewing on about how inspired he was after the coffee. After his friends stop by or hang out for a bit he usually just hung out, tended to the regular’s and waited for his favourite Sunday regular to stop by.
     You see, this certain regular used to be apart of their tomfoolery the year before. He even sold him out but hey, that is all water under the bridge. Well it’s been water under the bridge since this special someone started to regularly show up and form an actual relationship with Akira. So every Sunday and sometimes Tuesdays and Saturdays if he manages to get time off Akira waits for his regular to show.
     While Akira is day dreaming about this regular the door chimes signaling that it has been opened. Akira slowly lifts his head, and he grins when he sees that familiar pleasant smile greet him from the door; which keep in mind was still open.
     “Close the door, you’re letting all the cold air in!” one of the older regulars scolds, and Akechi quickly closes the doors; bowing his head apologetically. 
     “Hey stranger.” Akira greets, already getting Akechi’s drink ready knowing what he wants without him even needing to say it.
     “Why hello Akira, how has this lovely Sunday been treating you?” Akechi’s eyes sparkle as he watches Akira’s fluid movements behind the counter.
     “Well it was a bit of a drag until you got here.” Akechi blushes when Akira looks up at him and winks. He has always been quite the charmer, too charismatic for his own good. He hears Akira chuckle low in his chest before softly setting the drink down before him. This place has some of the best coffee in all of Japan, and it doesn’t hurt that the barista is delectable eye candy.
     “So tell me, what has the ace detective been up to today?” Akira toys lightly as he rests his elbows on the counter in front of him. 
     “Well, there haven’t been many new cases to solve since, you know, so they have been giving out more time off. Of course most of it isn’t paid time off, but at least I’m not drowning in work like I once was.” Akira nods slowly, listening intently as the detective spoke. He always did have such a soothing voice, Akira could listen to Akechi talk for hours. After a couple moments of silence except for the TV softly showing the news in the background, the older man broke it as he asked for one more refill before he headed out. Quickly Akira fetched his cup filled it once more then brought it back to the man. All the while Akechi’s eyes never left Akira. That boy was just so attractive, and he didn’t even realize.
     “Well I’m glad you’re not overwhelmed with everything, you deserve some breaks you now?” Akechi nodded, and smiled at Akira. He still regrets everything that happened in the past and beats himself up over it but it’s like Akira doesn’t even care anymore. He tried to kill Akira and it’s like it doesn’t even bother him.
     “Hey Akira, could I ask you a question?” Akira looks up at him.
     “You just did.” Akechi frowns while Akira snickers but the laughter dies down quickly and Akira nods, his face more serious now.
     “Are you okay, with everything that happened? You know with last year?” Akechi looks down at his now empty coffee cup before its gently grabbed out of his hands to be refilled.
     “Yeah, I am. And I know you’re going to ask if I’m lying, well I’m not. I really am okay with everything, I understand where everything came from; and I get why you did what you did. I’m not saying it was okay-” Akechi’s frown deepens.
     “-but I am okay. The gang is okay; at least for the most part. There is no reason you should still be beating yourself up for what happened; and I know you are because I know you.” Akira cautiously put his finger and thumb of Akechi’s chin to gently make him look at him. There was genuine sincerity in Akira’s eyes. He wasn’t lying just for the sake of Akechi’s feelings.
     “Thank you Akira, for giving me a second chance and for being a genuine person to me. I know you had said it was okay but let me apologize one last time for everything I had put you through-” before Akechi could finish his sentence, Akira’s lips were on his, in a gentle but loving kiss. It took Akechi a second to register what was going on but once he did, he promptly kissed back.
     After a second they separated from each other and smiled.
     “Everything is water under the bridge.”
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Yungblud Fan Fic - Finding Love Is Better Than Finding A Gold Mine
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The Trees’ October 2020 Writing ChallengeDay 7/31
Prompt: Dragon (barely applies but oh well)
Word-count: 1500 words
Content Warnings: none
Summary: As all his friends move on with their lives, Dom's feeling lonely...but maybe he's found someone he can be lonely with.
A/N: So, just as to let everyone know how little I plan this shit out, I wrote a dragon-inspired story about MGK because it was what came to mind when I got the prompt for 'gold', and then five days later I got a prompt for 'dragon'. Clearly I need to learn to look forward a little more...but since I'm back on the subject, enjoy a sort-of sequel to Not All That Glitters Is Gold.
Dom smiled as Colson proudly introduced his human to the assembled group of dragons. He was about two seconds away from picking the small woman up and showing her off like a trophy, but she didn’t seem to mind. Dom didn’t think he would either; the way the Colson looked at her said it all - he adored his human. It shone from him like the sun: obvious to anyone who so much as glanced at the couple.
  Dom was overjoyed for his friend…but he was also envious.
  Everyone he knew was settling down, finding partners and having hatchlings, and Dom just…wasn’t.
  It wasn’t that he wasn’t looking: he really, really was! It was just hard to find someone that wanted him. Humans were scared of him because he was a dragon, and dragons thought he was just…well, weird. Which was fair; Dom was weird for a dragon, given that he spent more time in his human form than he did in his scales, but he didn’t see why that bothered so many people. It made him feel good, and it wasn’t like he hurting anyone else!
  He was just doing what made him happy, but apparently that made him incredibly unappealing to other living beings. Sure, Tom, Adam, and Colson had never minded, and they were all great friends, but none of them were romantically interested in Dom, and Dom wasn’t romantically interested in any of them - at least not seriously, especially since they all found partners. It was more than a little depressing, although he didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with the way the whole cave had just fallen silent.
  A tall figure had paused in the entrance of the cave, shrouded in a black cloak that covered her from the top of her head down to her ankles, leaving only her bare feet exposed. Not that anyone needed to see any more than that.
  They already knew who she was.
      “It's the Messenger.”
  “What does she want here?”
  “Shh!”
      The whispers died down as the Messenger looked around the cave, curling her lip in distaste as she took in the crowd that Colson had invited…and obviously finding them all lacking.
  It wasn’t new; the Messenger was an odd member of the magical community. She was a neutral figure: the only one trusted to communicate and mediate between different supernatural groups, which meant that she didn’t have any enemies - but she didn’t have any friends either. It was a lonely job, and from what little he knew about Messengers, they often went one of two ways: retreating into themselves, or becoming…hostile. The current Messenger had gone down the second path.
  And, apparently, she was feeling particularly hostile tonight.
      “Well, quite a glittering crowd you’ve invited today, Baker. Dragons, the Fey, some were-animals, and - oh, how quaint: even the rabble.” She sneered at the small group of witches gathered in the corner, before turning back to Colson: “I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.”
  Colson glared at the witch: “You weren't wanted.”
  “Not wan- oh!” the Messenger clasped a hand over her heart, mockingly pretending to be upset: “Oh dear…what an awkward situation. I had hoped it was merely due to some oversight…well, in that event, I'd best be on my way.”
  Dom could see where this was going - and tried to smooth it over before anything kicked off: “You're not offended, Messenger?”
  “Why, no, of course not.” she smirked.
      Dom could tell she wasn’t lying…but something about her smirk didn’t ring true with Dom. When she swept out of the cave, ignoring the gathered beings watching her leave, Dom followed her out into the night.
  He knew it had to be lonely having no friends. Dom was lonely, and he had loads of friends - he just couldn’t find a partner. The Messenger had no partner and no friends and now people were refusing to invite her to things even out of politeness, as was custom.
  She had to be lonely…he’d bet half his hoard on it, if the speed she was moving away from the party was any indication.
  For a woman on bare feet, she moved through the forest with ease. Even with eyes that allowed him to see well in semi-darkness like the moonlight night around him, between the swiftness she moved through the trees and the long black cloak she wore, Dom struggled to keep up with her. It was only thanks to sheer determination that Dom managed to stay on her trail. Determination, and a sudden certainty that nobody should be feel lonely in a world full of people. Not her, not him, nobody.
  And he was going to fix that - at least for the Messenger and himself. As soon as he caught up with her.
      Which she is not making easy for me.
      She really wasn’t…until all of a sudden she was, coming to a dead stop a few feet in front of him: “Why are you following me?”
  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
  “Of course I’m okay.”
  Dom knew he probably shouldn’t poke the metaphorical bear…but he’d come this far, so he wasn’t going to back down now: “You sure? I mean…I thought you might be a bit lonely.”
  Nothing in the Messenger’s body language changed, but the air around them suddenly felt charged, just like it did before lightning was about to strike - though when she spoke, the Messenger’s voice was icily calm: “And why would you think that?”
  “Because I am.”
      Slowly, the electric feeling in the air faded.
  The Messenger’s body language relaxed…and then slumped, like she was suddenly carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Dom knew better than to push - at least not anymore than he already had - but seeing an infamously powerful woman look so defeated, even through the shroud of her cloak, was sadden. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he didn’t dare. He wouldn’t touch anyone without their permission, but especially not witches like the Messenger, who could flatten him with one spell.
  At least not until he saw her shoulders shudder in an unmistakable sob.
  Dom didn’t think, he just wrapped the Messenger into a hug. Up close and personal, she was a lot shorter than she appeared, short enough that he could tuck her head under his chin when he wrapped his arms around her.
  He was honestly worried about her…smiting him of something for a few seconds, but instead she buried her face in his neck, and stayed there mutely. She was shuddering, but Dom couldn’t hear anything, or feel any wetness soaking into his shirt, the Messenger just silently cried into his shoulder until she was done.
      “Better?” Dom asked, allowing her to pull away to gather herself.
  The Messenger didn’t answer, just shrugged slightly: “Honestly, I don’t know what came over me. I apologise.”
  “Nah, you don’t have to apologise.” Dom reassured: “We all have bad days.”
  “Yourself included, apparently.”
  “Yeah, myself included.”
      Slowly, as if she wasn’t sure of herself, the Messenger reached up and pushed her hood back, revealing the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
  Even with puffy red eyes, her wary expression, and the darkness obscuring the true colour of her hair and eyes, the Messenger was still stunning.
      “You seem nice.” she mused: “I don’t understand why you’re lonely.”
  “All my friends are settling down with partners, having hatchlings, moving on with their lives…and I’m not.” Dom explained, trying to keep his tone light, but not quite pulling it off: “It’s not as bad as having no friends, I know, but…”
  “But at least having no friends would make you used to the loneliness. Sometimes it better not knowing what you’re missing…”
  Dom didn’t know about that…but he supposed it didn’t matter too much; the Messenger had a friend now: “Well, neither of us have to be lonely now. We have each other.”
      The Messenger looked at him for a few seconds, with eyes that seemed to be able to see right into his soul, but Dom didn’t flinch.
  He wanted to be her friend - if that meant he had to deal with a few unsettling stares, then so be it.
      “You’re a dragon.”
  It wasn’t a question, but Dom answered it anyway: “I am.”
  The Messenger nodded: “Dragons don’t start drama. You just sit on your gold mines and keep yourselves to yourselves.”
  “Doesn’t make us bad friends.” Dom pointed out.
  The Messenger smiled: “Far from it. I think I’d like to be friends with you, Dominic.”
      Dom grinned, happiness bubbling in his chest – and the boiling over when she leaned up to press a kiss against his cheek.
      “Maybe we can try the getting together thing too.” she whispered to him: “I think dragons might be good at that too…or, at least, you might be.”
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