#i would go around the neighborhood and knock on people's doors and give them baked goods. Literally if | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sentientfunfetti · 1 year

Note

What if reader gave dollhouse!Wally a cute little box with a clay heart inside it? Like, "here's my heart, for you" kinda thing.

“giving you my heart” a dollhouse! wally/reader drabble

(dollhouse!wally and his au belongs to @/itskorrychang on twitter! go support them!)

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!

it had been a few weeks since you and wally had been seeing each other. time seemed to move a bit slower in the neighborhood, but you associated that with the bliss of being utterly comfortable where you were. when you had moved to the neighborhood, you were off-put by how quiet it was. from what you were told it was a bustling community full of games, jokes being told, pies and other baked good being baked and other types of fun…

but, when you arrived it was quiet. too quiet. it was unnerving say the least.

then you met the only resident. wally darling. as eerie as he was there was always a level of endearment to it. wally seemed harmless, just a tad socially inept. on your first day he invited you over for tea in his home, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the rows after rows of dolls he had.

“oh…those? i made them myself…”

he said it as if it wasn’t a big deal. his level of craftsmanship wasn’t lost on even you, who had no idea how to make anything like that. they were so pretty…and he seemed to appreciate your enthusiasm and compliments, even going as far as to make one of you. most people would have found that creepy…especially with how many details of you he had captures on such a small base, even going as far as to point out his favorite ones.

least to say, you were swooned. head over heels for him, and you wanted to show your appreciation for both his hospitality and for you to express you feelings for him. your crafting skills were…limited least to say. the only thing you could wrap your head around besides from drawing was clay, and so you spent all night making a heart shaped…object…for wally, even going out to find a cute box to paint over for the heart shaped ‘thing’ to be held in.

looking down at the box in your hands as you make your trek to wally’s house, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious about how he’d feel about it. there was no doubt about it; wally’s skill level was leaps and bounds above your’s, so that left one question: would he even accept your gift? you could only hope not.

…you weren’t even able to get your fingerprints off of it like most people are able to.

pushing all of that aside, you were already at his doorstep seemingly within a blink of an eye, and now all there was to do was knock. you lifted your arm up stiffly and knocked.

“coming.” he announced through the door, and you heard his footsteps approaching. you jumped when he opened the door, his usual lax smile on his face. you quickly hid his present behind your back without thinking. “ah, neighbor. you’re a bit early today…” you smile the best smile you could muster and giggled. “well, i wanted to come and see you early this time! i hope that’s okay…” you watch his lazy grin grow and your face warms. despite you at first being apprehensive to him, you quickly found out that he was just as kind as any other person.

“oh, neighbor. you know that my doors are always open. all you need to do is call or knock and if i’m able, and available, then you’re always welcome…” he responded lowly, standing in his doorway. his words were sweet, but they did nothing to soothe your already growing anxiety. it bubbled up in you just like before. “…thank you, wally…i really appreciate that.”

he responded with a nod, before stepping aside and motioning for you to come in. “anything for you, lovely.”

the pet name made your heart swell, as you stepped inside, making sure to angle yourself so that he wouldn’t be able to see the box you had in your hands. you hear the door click closed, the lock following. he turned to you with an eyebrow raised. “…neighbor…” he put a hand on his face, amused with the fact you were so obviously hiding something behind your back. “what’s that you’ve got there…?” he inquired, pointing, and you felt yourself shrink, your eyes shifting to the floor.

“o-oh…well…uhm…” his gaze was intense now. he was looking for your answer in your body language due to the now lack of eye contact between the both of you. “yes, precious?” he urged you to continue, leaning down a tad to be eye level with you. your eyes were glued to the floor, however. after a bit of silence, you suck in a breath and tap your foot on the floorboards underneath your feet. you stay silent for a moment, the only thing filling the silence is the sound of wally’s large grandfather clock ticking away every second you weren’t speaking. “i…i uhm…made you something…” you finally mumbled under your breath, your eyes flicking up to him for a moment.

“what was that, dear? i couldn’t quite hear you. you were mumbling.” you couldn’t tell if wally was teasing you or being serious. he did have a tendency to do that accidentally…only occasionally doing it on purpose when he realized what he said had affected you. he stood back to his original height and waited for your response, his intense gaze still on you, making you feel just a bit smaller than usual. you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i made you something, wally.”

“is that so?” his smile widened, and he outstretched his arms. “can i see what you’ve made me? if you made it i’m sure it’s lovely.” you shake your head, and take a step back, chewing on your bottom lip. eyes back on the floor. “it’s not that good, really. it’s really not as good as the stuff you make so…”

“…so…what, precious…?” there was a dangerous edge to his voice you couldn’t quite place a finger on. you knew he probably didn’t mean for it to startle you, but you felt yourself shrink into yourself just a bit more at it. wally seemed to notice, and you watched his shoulders lax. he quickly corrects. you forget that he had an edge to him at times. that’s what being alone for so long will do to people, you think.

“it’s alright. really. i’m sure whatever you’ve made me is just as nice as you are. as nice as you have been.”

you look up and into at his red orbs and let out a bitter chuckle. “you’re only saying that because you’re curious.” you respond, raising an eyebrow at him. he shrugs off your accusation with the same smile as before. “can you blame me? my favorite neighbor—“ only neighbor. you don’t correct. you don’t dare. “— visits me with a gift, and now doesn’t want me to see it? who wouldn’t be curious?” dammit. he had a good point. you were stumped, and running out of energy to fight, so with a sigh you revealed the small box from behind your back. your face burned as soon as you saw wally’s eyes train on the small box in your hands. he hummed, before taking it away from you, your arms falling limply to your sides as you counted away the seconds until doomsday.

…okay…maybe doomsday was a bit overdramatic…but if he didn’t like it you would most definitely be thinking about that for the next few weeks. definitely. you mentally crossed your fingers, and let out a weak ‘surprise’ as you watched him open the box, his intense gaze fixing onto the smaller object inside.

he was silent. dead silent. so silent in fact that you were sure you didn’t even see him take another breath in. his chest stopped rising and falling as his intense gaze softened for a moment. “…see? i told you it wasn’t as good as the stuff you make—“ your hand clamps around your forearm for comfort as your shift.

“gods, i’m sorry wally—“

“…oh…neighbor it’s…this is…!” he looked up at you from the box in his hands with glazed over eyes. tears threatening to spill. he looked back down and plucked the small heart shaped clay piece out of the confines of the box and let out a shaky breath. “…it’s…it’s perfect…” he moved over to the table next to the front door and deposited the box in order to hold the heart in the palms of his hands, as if it was the most precious gem. as if it was made of glass and one drop would threaten to break it. you stood there…confused…almost shocked.

“…it is…? i mean i just like—“ you immediately begin to backpedal. you had never seen wally so passionate before except a few times, so this was almost scary. you weren’t even able to get your fingerprints off the damn thing, much less make the shape look uniform.

“yes. yes. it’s…it’s so cute…and…you made it for me? did you really, neighbor…?” wally asked, looking at you with a warm smile. “it’s wonderful. thank you. you even put my initials on it…” he outstretched a palm and pointed to the small detail, utterly infatuated. sometimes you forgot his eye for small details. you felt like a ant under a magnifying glass. studied.

you laugh and blush, rubbing the back of your neck. “oh…well. ya know…didn’t want it to get lost…!” at that, wally let out a warm chuckle, and a sniffle, regaining his composure as he continued on. “well, i assure you neighbor, the detail is appreciated…and i won’t be losing this anytime soon.” he took a step closer.

“…no…in fact…i’ll be keeping it close. as close as i can…” his voice was hushed, his grin wide and his eyes narrowing with it. you swallow thickly, face red. was he talking about you…or the gift? stars, which one was less likely to make you explode? “i’m…i’m glad.” was all you were able to muster out. wally didn’t miss a beat, however, leaning a bit again to catch your gaze, gift still in his hands. his hand went to cup your cheek, and you swore you could see a glint in his eye. “why are you so red, precious? aren’t i supposed to be the flustered one here?” his thumb stroked your cheek. yep. he was definitely doing it on purpose this time. you huff and put your hands on your hips. “listen here, if this is how you’re gonna react every time i give you a gift, this may be your last one, buster.” you turn your back to him and begin to walk towards the dining room to have a seat, pulling away from his touch, but the ghost of it was still there.

“precious.”

he called out, and you turned to see him now holding the heart in-between his thumb and forefinger to where you could see it; a mischievous glint in his red eyes. you shuddered and narrowed your eyes at him. “…what…?” you spat playfully.

“…was this you giving me your heart?”

author’s note ⊹˚. ♡

thank you for the request, neighbor! it was such a sweet one. i really enjoyed writing this one.

i also have a few things to go over, actually:

firstly, i’d like to thank you all for the requests and the likes and the follows! i’m really surprised i’ve been getting the attention i’ve been getting. thank you all for that.

secondly, i’d like to ask for a few things if that’s alright.

1) reblogs. self explanatory. likes don’t really do anything for me traction-wise as you may or may not know and i’d like for more people to be able to see my things!

2) can you all pretty please be more specific with the things you’d like for me to write? if you just send me a prompt and not specifically state that you’d like headcanons, or a drabble then i have no idea what you’d like.

3) more feedback. i want to grow as an author so criticism is of course encouraged and welcomed.

besides from that, ill be working on my reboot wally fanfiction over on ao3 and the requests i have lined up for me at the moment. thank you guys for the support. it means a bunch./gen

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scwheeler · 2 years

Text

🏹 ˖ ࣪⊹ — past tense

pairing: mike wheeler x fem!reader

summary: you’ve had a crush on mike wheeler since birth, however he’s never been too fond of you. but high schools coming up and after a few events, you finally get over mike but how the tables turn…

warnings: asshole mike 🖕🖕🖕

age of pairing: 15-16

a/n: this was originally the flipped fic i made first but i changed it up a little and was just bored ALSO IT BARELY MAKES SENSE LOL

june 24th, 1981

you had just finished your third lap around the neighborhood on your bike. it was summer yet the heat was bearable, at least to be outside before two p.m. or else you had to smother yourself with sunscreen to prevent getting burned. you thought it was a good idea to head home now as you biked around the corner to see your familiar washed down yellow house.

what was unfamiliar was the three white moving trucks pulling up the house next to yours. it was a large white house that had been empty for some time now. you expected some elderly couple or family of like eight kids to move in. but as you parked your bike on the driveway of your house, you walked towards one of the trucks that had people in it.

there was a little boy with dark hair and a navy jacket on. it was summer and he was wearing a jacket? who was this kid? he had his back turned to you, making you more curious. you started to jog to him and a man who was giving him brown cardboard boxes bigger than his torso. it was probably his dad. he had thick glasses and a come over like most guys you saw at the grocery market and shopping mall.

they were in the moving truck and moving around boxes so you jumped in, “hi! you need some help?” you reached for one of the boxes that had a red label ‘FRAGILE’ which you disregarded. “whoa there, that’s some heavy stuff, why don’t you head on home little girl,” he shooed you away and put a foot on the box you were reaching for, preventing you from carrying it.

you didn’t take it personally, lots of people probably don’t want a strange girl taking their belongings. “hey dad—” the boy peered into the moving truck where you and his dad stood. he stopped himself once his eyes laid on you. he seemed scared more than friendly.

he had a band-aid on his chin and freckles on his cheeks. he wore a stripped collar shirt under his jacket and plain khaki pants, reaching all the way to his black sneakers. wow was he dressed for winter! you were paying too much attention to what he was wearing you didn’t even realize he was speaking.

you only looked at his face. once your eyes met his, you knew this boy was going to be yours. no matter what.

august 16th, 1981

“—and when we got there it was the beach, like everywhere!” your classmate carly kept talking about her trip to california as the rest of the girls listened in awe. living in hawkins had its perks sometimes but not having a beach was not one of them. however you didn’t really care about what she did or what she was saying.

it was the first day of fifth grade and the only thing you were excited for was the teacher to bring in the new student. your next door neighbor, mike wheeler. throughout the hot summer days, he was the only thing that made those days hotter. you felt your cheeks warm up whenever he would reluctantly knock on your door to drop off a pie or any treat his mom was baking that week.

those days were the days you waited all week for. every friday evening you would look your best, wearing your hair in the cutest ways and putting on the clean clothes fresh out of the laundry so you could smell the sweet flower scent. you would also prevent anymore else from approaching the door.

you stood next to the door, in front of the mirror adjusting your hair while waiting for him to arrive at about seven to knock on the front door. you would wait exactly six seconds so he wouldn’t realize that you were literally waiting on hand and foot for him.

what you didn’t know was he basically saw you through the small side window, standing there counting in your head until finally deciding to get the door. he thought it was weird. he thought you were weird. when his mom would nag him weekly to take a new baked treat over to your house, he thought he was getting punished.

he would have to go all the way down the stairs and get the plate or tin and walk over to your house next door. he complained that the walk felt like a whole marathon when in reality it was only about twenty steps maximum. then he would knock on the door not even bothering to press the doorbell because you had probably had touched it.

he would watch you wait like ten seconds until finally answering the door with a bright smile and thank him a million times. he would keep a straight face and just nod, not one word coming out of his mouth during the last six weeks he’s been doing this.

you would always take any chance to play with him. if he was outside about to get on his bike, you would rush outside without a care in the world if you stumbled down the stairs or hit your knee on a stair. but the instant you would get on your bike, you saw him peddling away like he was trying to get away from zombies. you thought he was going to go meet someone or had something to do, like being the newspaper boy? so you didn’t mind it.

sometimes when you felt like it (basically always) you would get on your bike and chase him, following where he was going. he was just going in laps like you did which meant technically he couldn’t say this following because you were just a fellow neighborhood kid riding their bike around.

you tried your hardest to catch up to him, so you could chat with him or even go somewhere with him but you didn’t know if it was if he had iron lungs and mechanical legs or because he always had a head start, his back would always be turned.

beginning school was the next dreaded thing mike was worried for. not because it’s a new school and he didn’t know anyone. he did know someone, you. mainly that was why he dreaded it. he would have to pass the halls and avoid you to the fullest. what if he ended up with the same teacher as you? then he knew he’d be screwed.

“everyone, this is michael wheeler. i’d like you guys to be nice and respectful to him, please sit down beside y/n. y/n raise your hand,” the teacher spoke carefully and guided him towards you who had a hand up as if there was a star to be reached. ‘how could the universe love you so much!’ you thought.

how could the universe hate him so much, mike thought.

he walked towards his seat that was sat to the right of you. you watched as he slowly sat down and pulled out a blue notebook, the same as yours. yours had a few peeled off sticker residue and markings from previous pens and pencils but it was the same alright.

mike didn’t spare you or your desk a glance to notice so you thought it’d be best to let him know. while the teachers back was turned and faced the blackboard to write down the agenda, you leaned to your right side. “mike—mike, look we’re matching!” he looked at you holding up your notebook like the nobel piece prize and groaned.

not the reaction you expected but it was mike wheeler after all. he would always find a way to avoid you but you were already there. he was hiding and you were next to him. almost attached! for the rest of the day, he looked away from you, facing his right side instead of his left where you sat.

he was talking to lucas and will, two boys who sat near him as well. you’ve never talked to them before even though you spent the last four years of school with them. they seemed weird, not like geeky weird, but like they couldn’t hold a conversation with you. maybe it was early puberty?

either way, you sat in silence. looking at the board but stealing a few glances to peek at mike from the corner of your eye. he was passing notes and laughing with the others boys. looks like he already got himself some new friends. friends that didn’t include you.

june 7th, 1984

tying your white shoelaces to your red sneakers, you entered the classroom for the last day of school. your hair was tied back into a ponytail and moved from side to side as you approached the library. you wanted to return all the books from this school year before you forgot and then finally get to enjoy the start of summer.

as you put it back onto the shelves, you overheard a familiar voice. mike. instead of walking away to spend your summer day, you leaned towards the bookshelf and waited for the boys to speak again. “people will think you’re doing charity mike!” one of the boys said. “yeah i’m not one to be mean but she’s so gross like she’s been obsessed with you forever and did you see her stupid yard?” “that piece of shit!” “shut up it’s a library shhhh,” one of them said. “mike come one be honest.”

you gripped onto the books in your arms and waited for mikes response. “yeah i would kill myself if i was seen with her,” he laughed. you immediately ran out, getting out of the school and getting on your bike. without another thought you rushed inside your house and to your room.

january 3rd, 1985

mike had made it clear he didn’t reciprocate your feelings and even though it was hard, you swallowed your emotions and decided to give up. other than the conversations you had practically forced him into, he never made the effort to talk to you. basically avoiding you for the last four years. so the last day of ninth grade you expected it to the same. and it was.

until you got home. you stood in disbelief in the middle of your kitchen as your mom spoke to you. the words “dinner at the wheelers,” sounded incorrect like you had a hearing problem. but when she repeated it, you realized it was true. “but they’ve never invited us over in like the four years they’ve lived here?” you asked and sat on at the table.

“what matters y/n, at least they’re noticing now,” your mom responded and before you could mutter ‘that’s ridiculous’ you walked out and into your room. sitting on at the desk, you stared down at your textbooks, “mike wheeler…what could he want now?” you’d eventually gotten over him, as you do with most crushes so you didn’t mind going over for dinner.

you weren’t going to be a stuttering, blushing mess and you would be polite and kind. especially to his parents and not mind him any extra attention. but why now? why after these three long years would be invite your family over?

the afternoon came sooner than you thought and you found yourself in a clean formal outfit with a homemade key-lime pie in your hand, waiting in front the mike wheeler’s door. it would be a lie if said you hadn’t been facing this door a million times. you used to come and knock on his door almost every weekend and everyday in summer, asking him to play or come over but his response was a quick decline.

at first he was nice about it, saying he had to help his mom or making up another lame excuse but than he stopped trying to even be somewhat kind about declining your offer. you could see him through the living room window, reading a book and gritting his teeth while you pressed his doorbell time after time. he would ignore you or make one of his other family members get the door, so he could avoid you at all costs.

it was disappointing to say the least but you still saw him at school. you waved to him every chance you got but after experiencing his unresponsiveness for about the seventieth time, you quit. he probably never even noticed your existence at this point!

but mike knew. he always knew, and he was different than you thought. once you stopped caring about him and knocking on his door or taking any chance to make him look at you, he realized something. he missed it, he missed you. it was now him searching for you in the class and him who stared out his bedroom window to see if you would walk over and ring the doorbell.

he didn’t like you. even if only as a friend, he would never admit it. but seeing you view him unlike before changed his mind. he liked your bright personality and your eagerness to try anything. sometimes he would sit in his room, staring at his math homework but thinking about you. how on the bus, you walked right passed him and sat next to timothee brown! crazy! everyone knew timothee was weird and no one ever would sit next to him. to seem unnoticeable, whenever someone boarded the bus, he would look at you who was looking at timothee. chatting, talking, laughing!

he would think to himself, “what was she laughing about? how could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful!” however he could only turn around and stare out the window while his friend dustin continued to talk about dnd. why was this happening to him! he hated you. he hated you. always had and always will, so why was he dreaming about you every night and imagining what you were doing during class, outside of school, while with his friends, at dinner, during homework, and even when he was watching tv!

you were like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.

a bad song.

there was a knock at his front door and as much as he wanted it to be you, his face showed different emotions. you stood with a pie in your hand and in front of his door once again. wasn’t this want he wanted? but it wasn’t. you looked forced, annoyed. how he looked whenever you would come up to talk to him.

it wasn’t like before, no immediate hugs or jumps to conversations. you walked straight to the kitchen and helped mikes mom set the table. he only watched you walk right past him and ignore him. ignore him! he finally was going to speak to you and now his time was up? it was like a video game and he had used all this lives.

you tried to kept your composure, but to be honest when he opened the door with his shaggy dark brown hair, almost a shade of black and burgundy covering down to his eyebrow and straight freshly-ironed gray collared sweater, your heart slipped almost a beat. scratch that. make that three beats.

before he could look up, you turned your attention to nancy in the background who smiled and waved to you. quickly to divert his attention, you ran inside without a hello and entered the kitchen to help with dinner. brushing past mikes shoulder, deep inside you wished you paused and said hi whcih could possibly have sparked a conversation but he never did in the past three years so why would he start now!

sitting at a wooden dinner table could never have been more awkward. your parents and his had small conversations but mostly about work and school, meaning you and mike were out of the question. luckily you turned your head to nancy and instantly started to ask her stuff about high school. she gladly responded to your questions. she was so sweet, you kept your eyes away from in front of you and to the side where she was sitting. mike who was facing you was waiting for you to be done but you had no intention of stopping.

when nancy and you finished your conversation, you went up to use the restroom twice, forgot to turn off your record player in your room, and finally dinner ended. all of these were excuses to avoid talking to mike and he clearly noticed. at the end of dinner and everyone was settled in the living room, you excused yourself to your room so you could finish your homework.

surprisingly this was true, mr. dons just handed out an essay assignment due this week and you forgot to do it. you sat on your desk, opening your cabinets to get your notebooks and grabbing a few pencils. once you wrote the first word “the,” there was a knock at your door.

“come in!” you said and assumed it was your mom bringing you a snack or to tell you the wheeler’s were finally leaving. but it wasn’t. “sorry to disturb you,” he apologized softly and approached you. you sighed, “what do you want?” he was nervous, looking around your room. he saw a small red notebook on top of your dresser, he looked back to you with your eyes glued to your papers. he carefully reached for it, “don’t touch that.” you turned around and stared at him, “seriously mike what are you doing here?”

“i just wanted to talk to you,” mike said and sat on your bed. you turned back to your homework, “well i don’t want to talk to you.” “why?” he asked, further agitating you. “because—i just don’t,” you groaned and tried focusing on the words in textbooks but you couldn’t with the presence of mike wheeler.

“i thought you liked me,” mike mumbled which finally grasped your attention. “liked.” you replied, making mike finally leave your room.

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧scwheeler #mike wheeler x you #mike wheeler x y/n #mike wheeler x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st 4 vol 2 #mike x reader #mike stranger things #mike wheeler #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x y/n #finn wolfhard x you

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jeanvanjer · 2 years

Note

Can we get 1. “Come over here and make me.”, please?

based on this

I hope you like it! Sorry it took me a while!

Kate Sharma, his hot sexy breathtaking annoying neighbor, was a thief.

When she moved in next door to him months back, he didn't mind her too much. She kept to herself just like he did.

Sometimes they would see each other in the early hours of the morning, nodding to each other in greeting before taking off for their runs towards the opposite direction. Her dog was alright and didn’t make much noise. The guests she had over occasionally, her sister and mother, he assumed, never made too much noise either. All in all, Miss Sharma proved herself to be the perfect neighbor.

Until last month.

It was around that she became a menace. She started to become more and more friendly. Always coming by to give him some baked goods or some dinner, or would ask him for eggs or flour. It didn’t matter if somewhere deep inside him he loved the attention she gave him, basked in the warmth she shone on him. He would avoid her like he avoided everyone else in his life.

“You’re a shy little one arent you. I never see you out and about. What are you avoiding, Mr. Bridgerton?” She said one day when he refused another one of her dinner invitations.

“One day, I’ll get you to come over.” Miss Sharma quipped confidently.

Anthony just grumbled as he shoved a whole carton of eggs at her. Hopefully that would keep her away longer.

But she was persistent. If he never came around, she did every weekend. She came with cooked food or bought over ingredients, to cook food at his place, ordering him around to chop this and stir that until she eventually made herself a vital part of his life.

Until he kissed her.

He didn't know why he did it.

Wrong.

He did know. He wanted to kiss her since the first time he saw her early in the morning when she stepped out for a run. Her head tipped back to soak in the rays, and he saw someone who lived life, and he wanted to know what that felt like. He wanted to ‌taste life’s essence on her lips.

One night she was over at his palace teaching him how to make some pasta dish, and he was at his limit. Who knew food was so sexy? The way she kneaded the pasta dough, the muscles of her arms clenching and unclenching with every move, the way her eyes would roll back when she tasted the sauce, and then when she held out her finger for him to lick, her eyes tempting him like they always did? He was a saint for not ravishing her on the kitchen island.

But he controlled himself. Even when she moaned and awed at the food while eating with him. And he thought he controlled himself when he walked her back to her place.

But then she leaned in close to give him a hug, and the scent of her perfume invaded his senses. He lost it.

Pulling her close, he crashed his lips onto hers, devouring her as if he hadn't eaten just moments ago. Kate kissed back with equal fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down, closer. Anthony pushed her against the door, trying to ground himself against her when her door swung open and they stumbled in, breaking Anthony from the spell Kate casted over him.

‘I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–” he stuttered. He cant believe he mauled her like an animal.

“What? Anthony no come inside and we can ta–”

Anthony didn't let her finish and ran back to his home, the sound of him slamming his door surely echoing through out the whole neighborhood.

That was five weeks ago. He avoided her now. He no longer went on his morning runs lest he see her again, and he never answered the door anymore when she came knocking.

And then his clothes started to go missing. As usual, he hung them up to dry outside in his yard every Saturday morning and slowly but surely his clothes started to go missing.

Anthony didn’t go around accusing people of being thieves. He had his suspicions before, but now? Now he had proof.

There Kate lay, the bane of his existence, in her yard, under the light of the morning sun, wearing nothing but his favorite sweatshirt.

She looked as gorgeous as ever. Every time he laid eyes on her her beauty would hit him like a train, and after days on days of not seeing her he gazed at her like a starved man. How did he manage to ignore this goddess for the past month? No, he had to focus. She had his sweatshirt, his favorite sweatshirt, and he needed it back. Now.

Angry, he stalked up to his fence to confront her.

“Miss Sharma!!” He hissed out, "What the hell are you doing wearing my sweatshirt?"

She propped up on her elbows and lowered her sunglasses to look at him.

“Oh hullo Anthony. I see you’re still alive.” she quipped as she got up and walked over to where stood stood at the fence.

“That” he pointed, “Is my mine and I want it back. Now.”

“How can you prove its your shirt? How do you know its not mine?” Kate put her hands on her hip, causing his sweatshirt to ride up a little bit, exposing more of the delicious skin of her thigh.

“Because it’s my college sweatshirt and it has my name on the back so unless you’re changing your name to Bridgerton, it belongs to me.” Anthony hissed.

Kate edged closer. So close he could taste her minty breath and smell the lilies on her skin.

“Is that your way of asking me to marry you, Mr. Bridgerton?” Kate whispered, and his eyes fell closed as her whisper slid down his spine, settling in his soul.

“If you want it back, come over here and make me. My door’s always open for you.” Kate said as she walked away, her hips swaying enticingly.

He was stunned, his mouth hanging open in shock.

#my asks #prompt game #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #kanthony fanfic #inspired by Molly's Italian neighbor who takes her on egg runs

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peronasghosts · 2 years

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my nevermoor big bang fic!! @nevermoorcentral i partnered with @head-of-clouds fic is under the read more, or at the ao3 link (i hope) it's a vampire/roommate alternate universe

so let’s raise a cup (cause i found someone to carry me home)

Cadence scowls. “We are not putting up a flier on the local coffeeshop’s bulletin board for a new roommate. We’d get so many weirdos.” She’s sitting in her spinny office chair, which makes it harder for her to be properly grumpy, but she manages it regardless. They’re in their makeshift office corner of the living room trying to budget for December, but due to inflation rent’s risen to horrible heights.

Cadence and Hawthorne work at the vampire minimum wage jobs. Cadence and Hawthorne don’t get paid enough at Stabbucks and VampireWorld respectively for this.

Hawthorne spins around in his office chair, knocking a stack of paper off the desk. “Cadence, we’re weirdos. Besides, we need the money for rent.”

“Who looks for roommates on a neighborhood coffee shop bulletin board? Besides, I’m pretty sure we both have some money saved up,” Cadence says.

“Someone cool might. Someone with money for rent so we don’t end up on the streets.” Hawthorne’s stopped spinning and now is staring at her intensely. He does that when he’s serious and is trying to look smart. Cadence rolls her eyes.

“We’re vampires. We can’t exactly hide that if a human’s living with us. I have enough trouble with Dearborn next door.” They’d only survived living here for two decades because of their stash of costumes and their friend Arch’s makeup skills.

A terrifying glint appears in Hawthorne’s eye. “What if we get another vampire to live with us? That’d be wonderful, right?”

“And we’re going to find one at Proudfoot Coffeehouse?” Cadence asks skeptically. The regulars of Proudfoot Coffee are thoroughly normal college students desperate for anything to get them through the day, not vampires.

“And we’re going to find one at Proudfoot Coffeehouse! Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Hawthorne says. It’s the scariest thing Cadence has heard him say, and she’s seen Hawthorne kill people.

“If you don’t, you’re pet sitting the entire week for Dearborn.” Cadence hopes that this is significant enough punishment for Hawthorne to put real effort into this. Hawthorne with a half-baked plan does things like getting stuck trying to give blood because he didn’t want to be suspicious.

“I would’ve given blood if I were human,” he’d said.

“Deal.” They would’ve made it a blood pact, but vampires don’t have enough of the stuff laying around, so they just shake on it.

Cadence almost forgets about the deal. She definitely would’ve written it off as one of Hawthorne’s harebrained schemes that she would make sure bites him in the ass, if not for the fact that Hawthorne goes to Proudfoot Coffee every day for the next week.

On Friday, after six days of this, she finally asks him why he’s going to a human coffeeshop every morning before dawn when a) vampires need no extra energy to get through the day, as vampires are nocturnal, b) vampires can’t eat human food, so even if Hawthorne needed the caffeine, he couldn’t drink the coffee.

“I’m getting inspiration! How better to learn what will appeal to any potential vampires but absolutely no humans than to immerse myself!” is what he says. Cadence responds with a single raised eyebrow. “OK, that was why I went the first day, but…” he trails off, rubbing his neck.

“What happened?” Cadence asks.

“There might’ve been a cute boy with the opening shift.” Hawthorne even blushes at this. This is the twelfth time since Cadence’s known him that Hawthorne has gotten a crush on a human, and it never ends well.

“Hawthorne.”

“I know, I know! But I did take notes, and I think I’ll be able to get us a vampire roommate!” Hawthorne pulls his notebook out of his bag. He’d just returned from Proudfoot Coffee. The pages are covered in Hawthorne’s characteristic scrawls and half finished doodles of the same boy.

“Sure. Just, I know Dearborn’s going on a work trip soon, and I’d really hate for her to have to ask everyone in the building if they can pet sit for her again.” Last time Dearborn had to go on a trip for her job that she swore dealt with classified government missions, she’d pestered all of the apartment residents until poor Rook stepped in. Dearborn’s cats were menaces, and no one wanted to talk about the rabbits. Or the fish, which were notoriously easy to kill.

“You’re going to eat your words!”

Hawthorne creates a flier. It reads: Hello!! Are you looking for a roommate right now? There’s an opening with us!! Looking for someone willing to pay $500 a month in rent!! Have a love of the nocturnal lifestyle and the gothic!! Do you like bats? We love them!! Also, we’re close to the main line!! Apartment is within a few blocks of Proudfoot Coffee!! Call 869-243-6721 for more info Cadence takes one look at it and says, “I would never call you.”

“Well, it’s not like we need another Cadence,” Hawthorne says.

“We don’t need someone who will drive stakes through our hearts either. Besides, I think all we’re going to get are desperate college students.”

“Some of those desperate college students might be vampires! And, they’ll come to us because we are obviously vampires!” Hawthorne argues.

Cadence considers this. Judging by the college students she’s talked to, that’s not too improbable. “I suppose it’s worth a try, despite this flier also attracting vampire hunters.”

Hawthorne pumps his fist. “I knew you’d say that!”

“I am only saying that to humor you. You’re like an annoying little brother,” Cadence says, fighting a smile. Hawthorne could be unfortunately endearing.

“Yeah, but I’m your annoying brother. Also, I’m about thirty years older than you, jerk.”

“Semantics.”

When Hawthorne gets a text from someone saying they’re interested, he races into the kitchen and sweeps Cadence off her feet without warning. Cadence, who was watering their rather wretched houseplant, slips on the spilled water when she lands. She gets back up with a scowl.

“Don’t look so glum, we're going to meet our new roommate in two days!” Hawthorne says. He seems to think that this is a reason for celebration.

“I was holding a watering can,” Cadence says, venomous. “What’s their name?”

“Morrigan Crow,” Hawthorne says, after checking his phone. The case was sparkly and blue, with a pop socket that had Toothless on it. It was their only phone, because they’d disconnected the landlines in a fit of paranoia a decade ago and Cadence refused to get one.

Cadence snorts. “Are you sure this isn’t some weirdo pretending to be a vampire?” The name Morrigan Crow is almost trying too hard.

“It’s worth a try!”

“Fine. But if I don’t like her, she’s out of the running.”

Hawthorne looks slightly constipated, but he nods. “We’re meeting her at Proudfoot Coffee at seven pm the day after next.”

“You’re paying,” Cadence says. This doesn’t really mean anything, since functionally their money is shared and neither of them will drink the coffee, but it’s the principle of the matter. -

Morrigan Crow turns out to be a short goth girl with wavy black hair and skin so pale she looks dead. Cadence’s first thought is that she’s insecure about something. She’s trying to hide it, trying not to fidget too much or be too tense in her shoulders and eyes, but Cadence catalogs the quick tapping of her foot, the darting of her eyes interspersed with periods of intense staring, and comes to the conclusion fast enough.

Hawthorne makes a beeline for her table and sits down before ordering anything. He waits for a moment; sees if Morrigan wants to talk first.

He starts rambling before the silence stretches on too long. “I’m so glad you texted me! My friend Cadence and I have a bit of a money problem right now, and getting a roommate that pays a third of the rent would be really helpful. You’ll have your own bedroom, but there’s only one bathroom. Neither of us take too long, so you’ll probably be fine unless you take hours to get ready. Anyway, this is just for if you have any questions and to get to know you to see if you’ll be a good fit,” Hawthorne finishes, taking in a deep breath.

Morrigan leans back, looking like a deer in headlights. “Uh. Alright. I’m Morrigan Crow, and I’m looking for a place to stay. I had to move out of my family’s house on a bit of a short notice.”

Morrigan stares at them, searchingly, when she says that. It puzzles Cadence, before she registers what Morrigan’s last name means. Crow. Morrigan’s a Crow, probably related to the mayor of a nearby city. Cadence knows him only from his homophobic policies. Did Morrigan just ‘have to move out’, or was she kicked out?

“That must’ve sucked,” Hawthorne says. He turns to Cadence, cocking his head towards Morrigan. Cadence nods. “Cadence here moved out because her parents didn’t like that she was gay.”

Morrigan startles at that. “So, you two aren’t…”

Cadence snorts. “I would never date Hawthorne.”

“Also, I’m gay too,” Hawthorne says brightly, shooting Cadence a glare. Cadence rolls her eyes. “Anyway! What’s your schedule? Cadence and I are both pretty nocturnal.”

Morrigan shifts around in her seat. “I think I am too.”

“Great! That’s our main potential dealbreaker, since I’m a light sleeper.” Hawthorne leans back in his chair, tipping it back. “What else should Morrigan know?” he asks Cadence.

“We don’t eat together, there’s a chore list, and common areas are kept clean and tidy. Also, give us a warning for visitors,” Cadence says. “Someone buys groceries at the beginning of each week. Do you have any dietary restrictions?” Cadence and Hawthorne take turns gathering blood from unsuspecting frat boys because both of them hate going to frat parties but would rather get blood from them than anyone else.

“I can’t eat garlic.”

“Good to know!” Hawthorne says, looking at Cadence as if to say I knew she was a vampire. Cadence ignores him. “So, do you want to see the place?”

“Can I see pictures? I have to go somewhere soon.”

“Yeah, let me pull some up.” Hawthorne had taken pictures of their apartment before they left that specifically showed the more vampire-like aesthetics, such as the many bottles of a red liquid that were on display in the kitchen because Hawthorne forgot to drink enough blood otherwise. “What do you think?” Hawthorne says, grinning like a dork.

“It looks…good.”

“Nice! So, Cadence and I will get back to you within a day or two about if you can live with us, if you still want to,” Hawthorne says.

“I do,” Morrigan says quietly. Cadence smiles, slightly, at that.

The moment she and Hawthorne get back to their apartment, Hawthorne barrages her with questions. “Did you like her? I thought she was great. I mean, she’s clearly a vampire you can’t argue with me on that, and I thought she seemed pretty nice! Not like some of the vampires out there.”

“Can you ever shut up?” Cadence says. Hawthorne puts a hand to his chest dramatically. “I did like her, though.”

“Enough to give her a shot? She probably really needs a place to stay; maybe she wouldn’t care that we’re vampires if she’s human.”

“I guess it’s worth a shot.”

Cadence can’t stop going back to how Morrigan described her situation. It reminded her too much of what things were like for her when she first was on her own, before she met Hawthorne. Living on the streets as any black lesbian in the 1950s, let alone a black vampire lesbian. From Hawthorne’s knowing look, the connection she made was probably obvious to him.

“You guess. Would it kill you to be optimistic?”

Cadence rolls her eyes, and lightly punches him. Not much could kill her anymore, but that doesn't mean she doesn't worry.

Morrigan moves in on a Tuesday night. It’s raining outside, and the fall weather is getting colder. She knocks on the door once. It’s a sharp, loud knock. Cadence is reading in the main room, near the door, but doesn’t get up to answer the door. Hawthorne slides from their now-shared room in his mismatched Spongebob socks to open it instead, rolling his eyes at Cadence. Cadence shrugs.

Morrigan stands in the hallway outside their apartment with one black suitcase and a black umbrella still open over her head like she’s never heard of the bad luck it brings. Or maybe she simply doesn’t care.

“You’re here!” Hawthorne exclaims. He spreads his arms out wide, like he’s expecting to be able to hug Morrigan. Stiffly, Morrigan accepts the hug. “Here, let me take this.” He wheels the suitcase inside, and Morrigan follows.

Hawthorne gives Morrigan a tour around the apartment, despite it being only four tiny rooms. Cadence can hear everything that he says, and shoots in a comment when she thinks it’s necessary. Morrigan laughs at some of them, quietly, like she’s not sure she can, and Cadence counts it as a victory.

She and Hawthorne aren’t exactly sure how to make sure Morrigan knows that they’re vampires too, so Hawthorne just leads her pointedly by the coffins in the bedroom and the jars of blood in the kitchen. Morrigan flinches at the sight of the coffins, and looks curiously at the blood jars.

It’s around 7:30 pm, so it’s not surprising when Morrigan asks if they’ve eaten yet. Cadence just woke up, so she’s not had her breakfast, and neither of them eat dinner at this time. Hawthorne glances at Cadence awkwardly, and says, “Well, I’ve eaten, but Cadence had a late lunch so she’s going to eat later. I think we have some food around here if you want it?”

Morrigan bites her lip. “Not really. I got some food earlier.”

“Well, this is your apartment now too, so don’t be shy if you want food,” Hawthorne says lightly.

Morrigan nods, and says, “I think I’m going to go and unpack.”

“See you later!” Hawthorne says, brightly. Morrigan leaves the main room with a wave.

Hawthorne slumps onto the couch beside Cadence. “D’you think she knows we’re vampires? I made it as obvious as I could!”

“Maybe we were wrong, and she’s just really goth,” Cadence says. “Most people wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that their new roommates are vampires.”

“I hope not. I like her.”

“So do I.”

Over the next couple of days, Hawthorne and Cadence do all they can to tell Morrigan that they’re vampires without explicitly saying that they’re vampires. They watch Dracula every early morning. They sleep in coffins during the day. Hawthorne shows off his fangs.

Morrigan still seems to think that they’re both working night shifts and are just really, really weird. She says that Hawthorne’s teeth are cool, and asks him how he got them done. Hawthorne looks into the middle distance like he’s on the Office and says that Nan Dawson gave them to him. Morrigan nods politely.

Cadence once says that she can’t go out in the sunlight and Morrigan laughs and says she thought vampires sparkled like Edward Cullen. “No, they don’t,” Cadence responds.

“How do you know that?” Morrigan asks, smiling.

“Personal experience.”

Morrigan loses it laughing, but glances at the door like she’s calculating possible escapes. Cadence scowls as she catches Hawthorne’s eye. He’s laughing too, but it’s more because if they don’t find this funny they will both have existential crises.

How the hell does Morrigan not know that they’re vampires, and know that she’s one too?

When Cadence relays this crisis to her friend Lambeth, Lam stares into space for thirty seconds then says, quietly, “Have you considered that she isn’t actually a vampire? Some people are allergic to garlic and have nocturnal schedules and are normal humans.”

Cadence puts her head in her hands and groans. “Trust me, she’s a vampire.”

The evidence isn’t exactly hard to find. Morrigan sleeps in a coffin that she brought to their apartment when both Cadence and Hawthorne were out. She drinks “cherry juice” that looks suspiciously identical to the liquid in Cadence and Hawthorne’s blood jars. She gets burned one day on her face and says it was a cooking accident. Hawthorne buys groceries to keep up appearances and they all go untouched. She has two scars on her neck that look like bite marks, and remarks one day that she’s an ex-Catholic, but can’t go to church anymore.

Lam nods, once Cadence is done reciting her laundry list of evidence. “It does seem like she is a creature of the night as well. However, I do not think she knows that you two are like her.”

“How? The only way we could be more obvious would be if we outright told her!”

Lam gives Cadence a considering look. “Maybe she’s scared of what will happen if she believes you’re vampires and is wrong.”

After talking to Lam, Cadence starts noticing more of Morrigan’s peculiar behavior. Not the stuff that’s common with vampires, but other things. Subtler things, like the way Morrigan flinches when a door shuts too loudly, or how Morrigan hasn’t told them a single thing about her life before meeting them other than what she told them at Proudfoot Coffeeshop. Cadence notices, and she and Hawthorne start adjusting.

It doesn’t matter if they know what happened to Morrigan. They both just want her to stay, and be comfortable.

Then one day, Hawthorne brings home the latest copy of Vampire Monthly, a newsletter exclusive to vampires that only those that have passed four tests can receive. Cadence and Hawthorne both subscribe to it, but Elder Quinn won’t let them contribute yet. “You’re too young. How long has it been since you were turned? A century?”

When Hawthorne said that he’d been turned in 1922 by Nan Dawson so that they could both fly prototypes of planes without any danger and that Cadence had been turned in 1960 by Baz Charlton to be part of his vampiric secret society, she’d kicked them out of her office.

Hawthorne waves the winter issue in front of Cadence’s face. “Look it! Jupiter North wrote an article and it’s on the front page!”

Cadence shoves his arm back. “I can’t see it when it’s so close to my face!”

Morrigan slips out of her room as they begin to fight. “What happened?”

Hawthorne straightens, and Cadence takes a step back. “Vampire Monthly! You’ll like it for sure. Look, Jupiter North has an article. He’s great, been a vampire for five hundred years or so.”

But instead of showing the excitement both Hawthorne and Cadence had expected (she’s got to know we’re vampires now, Cadence thinks), Morrigan’s face goes even more pale when she sees the front page.

The headline reads, “Ezra Squall Promoted to Regent Elder Amid Iron Crisis.” Hawthorne looks down at it, puzzled, while Morrigan is trying to hide that she’s barely holding herself back from crying.

Cadence studies the two of them before saying, “Well. At least you know we’re vampires now.” It’s a halfhearted quip, one that they all know is simply to lighten the mood, but Cadence tries regardless.

She doesn’t know what else to say.

“I didn’t know there were so many of us,” Morrigan says, her voice quiet and fragile. “I thought I was the only one besides-the one who turned me.”

“Nope!” Hawthorne says, popping the p. His wide grin is forced, but Cadence appreciates him trying. “There’s thousands of us, all over the world! Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah. It’s-wonderful. Great,” Morrigan says distantly. She gulps. Opens her mouth, and closes it. Hawthorne and Cadence look at each other, Hawthorne tilting his head as if to say, what do you think we should do? Cadence shrugs. Hawthorne’s her first close friend, and she’s not made many since. “Ezra Squall turned me.”

Cadence blinks. Once, then twice. She rubs her eyes. “What the fuck?” she says, without thinking. Hawthorne isn’t faring much better. His jaw drops, and he’s staring at Morrigan with wide eyes.

“Sorry?” Morrigan says, hunching her back like she’s trying to hide herself.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Just-Ezra Squall’s been a vampire for millennia, and as far as I know he’s only turned about nine people. So, uh, this kind of a huge deal,” Cadence says. She holds her hands up in front of her. “Not anything bad, but-unexpected.”

She’d thought Morrigan had been turned by another young vampire, for company or as someone to mold in their image or as a protege like most vampires Cadence knew. Ezra Squall was more of a legend than a real vampire. Some new vampires even believed he didn’t really exist at all.

Cadence wasn’t that dumb, but there was something hard to believe about Ezra Squall. Most vampires his age were recluses, insane, or in an unending sleep. Ezra Squall was a Regent Elder.

“Thanks?” Morrigan says. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her black sweater. She looks like she wants to disappear into the floor. Cadence looks at Hawthorne, as if to say can you help me out here, and thankfully he finally speaks again.

“So, when you say you didn’t know there were vampires besides you and Squall, does that mean you didn’t notice us these past weeks?” Hawthorne asks.

Morrigan rolls her eyes. “Goth people exist, dumbass!”

Cadence likes her a lot. She’d like Morrigan ever more if she were a tiny bit more observant.

“So you didn’t realize that we were creatures of the night when you saw our jars of blood? Or from the coffins in our room? Or when-” Hawthorne says. Morrigan puts her hand over his mouth.

“Some people are really committed to the aesthetic.” She’s scowling, but Cadence thinks she’s recovered from whatever came over her before.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Cadence says. She flicks her gaze up and down Morrigan, who’s wearing a black sweater, black skirt with skulls on it, black leggings, and black Doc Martens.

“Shut up.”

Cadence jerks awake in the middle of the day. When she opens her coffin from the inside, he sees a bit of light peek through her curtains, and cringes away from where it shines on her bedroom floor. She gets up and carefully steps around it to the curtains, which she pulls shut. As Smokey the Bear would say, only you can prevent wildfires. She’s doing her part.

Cadence makes her way to the kitchen. Chugging blood always makes her sleepy. Cadence had trouble sleeping as a human, so she’s forever grateful for the benefits of drinking blood. The lights are all turned off, which isn’t a problem because of Cadence’s night vision, but it makes her jump in surprise when she spots Morrigan opening the door to the hallway.

Morrigan’s carrying her suitcase.

Cadence races to the door, sliding in her socks. “Morrigan?”

Morrigan turns to face her. Backlit by the flickering hallway ways, she looks terribly small. Cadence isn’t used to feeling old, not with the company she keeps, but she does now. “I’m sorry,” Morrigan says. It sounds like she means it, but she’s inching towards the door.

“Why are you leaving?” Cadence asks. Morrigan’s face twists. Her features look sharper than ever.

“I’m sorry. Really,” Morrigan says, and she shuts the door behind her. Cadence stares at the door for a moment, then she goes to the kitchen.

She’s going to drink a lot of blood.

Cadence wakes Hawthorne up at sunset. There was no point before, Cadence had convinced herself, because they couldn’t exactly go outside and look for Morrigan during the day. It definitely wasn’t because Cadence needed a couple of hours to get herself together.

Hawthorne seemed to know this. He didn’t press about what happened, just got dressed and started brainstorming where Morrigan could’ve gone. She didn’t tell them much about her past, so they had trouble guessing. Cadence hadn’t realized how much Morrigan didn’t tell them.

“This is hopeless. We’re never going to find her, if she’s even more than ashes,” Cadence says. Hawthorne’s pulled out a map of the city, and they’re trying to mark places Morrigan could be. They’ve nailed down three possibilities in an hour, but Morrigan’s probably not going to go somewhere they could find her.

She didn’t seem like she wanted to be found.

“No! She’s our friend, and we’re going to talk to her about this,” Hawthorne says, angrier than Cadence is used to. It’s in moments like these when Cadence remembers that her friend can be a badass if he wants to be. In her opinion, it doesn’t happen often, but Cadence is always begrudgingly impressed.

“Hopefully,” Cadence says. She tries to think of another place Morrigan would go. “She’d probably stay in this city, so we can cross off outward bound trains. She really liked it here. Also, it’s not like it’s easy for us to find her.” Her bitterness leaks into her voice.

“Hey,” Hawthorne says, taking her hand in his. “I know this is hard. I know we might not find her, because Morrigan’s smart and plenty elusive. But as long as we have each other, we’ll get through it.”

Cadence blinks back tears. She is not going to cry over someone she only knew for a couple of weeks. “If you say so.”

“I promise.” Hawthorne holds out his pinky because despite being over a century old, he’s a child. Cadence links her finger with his, giving him a watery smile. They turn back to the maps, bouncing ideas off each other.

Eventually, they collect enough ideas to feel prepared to go out and search for their missing friend. They pull on their coats, and head outside. It’s snowing, and Hawthorne pauses to try to catch snowflakes on his tongue. With a roll of her eyes, Cadence does the same.

They fly around the city in their bat forms, searching for Morrigan. It’s getting lighter by the time Cadence spots Morrigan’s suitcase and bumps into Hawthorne on her descent. He follows her, and they land nearby where Morrigan is eating takeout Indian food. Cadence pulls Hawthorne behind a corner so Morrigan can’t see them.

“What do we say?” she hisses in his ear.

“Ask her if she’s ok. Tell her that we’d miss her if she left,” Hawthorne suggests. Upon seeing Cadence’s face, he reassures her, “We’re doing this together, remember?”

“As if I need you,” Cadence says, but lets Hawthorne lead the way to Morrigan. Once the two of them are a few feet from Morrigan, Morrigan notices them with a startle.

“What are you doing here?” she grumbles. “How’d you find me?”

“We’re your friends. Also, we searched the city,” Hawthorne says, bluntly.

“I left,” Morrigan says, like that was enough to end their friendship. Like either of them would let her go this easily, with this little explanation.

“Why?” Cadence says, more sadly than she’d like.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Morrigan says, standing up and dusting herself off. She throws the rest of her food in the trash. Speaking of her food, what was up with that? First going out in sunlight, then eating human food. What weird kind of vampire was she?

“Let us try,” Hawthorne responds, stepping closer to Morrigan. He holds his hands out like Cadence remembers him doing to her during their first fight. Maybe this will turn out as well as that fight did. Cadence trusts Hawthorne more in this than she does herself.

Morrigan lets out a mocking little laugh. “I don’t think you really want to know.” Under her breath, she says, “I don’t really want you to know.”

“Please?” Cadence asks. The snow keeps falling all around them. The world is a beautiful snow globe, and Cadence’s stomach feels sick.

Morrigan doesn’t say another word. She simply grabs her suitcase and goes down the escalator to the subway. Hawthorne and Cadence run after her, but she disappears into the early morning crowd.

To Cadence’s dismay, the sun has already risen.

Cadence and Hawthorne get on a train that stops near their apartment on its loop, and Hawthorne passes out after a few stops. Cadence envies him. He’s always been able to sleep easier. Cadence watches passengers come and go, and thinks about Morrigan.

Morrigan, she’s realized, is weird as hell.

She eats human food and goes out in the sunlight, yet tells them she’s a vampire. Cadence has lived with her long enough to know that Morrigan can’t tell a lie to save her life. Literally. She can’t lie to Dearborn.

So Morrigan’s definitely a vampire.

In the decades Cadence has been a vampire, she’s only heard of one creature like Morrigan. It’s a horrid possibility, but Cadence needs to figure it out. She’s always survived by taking the upper hand in every situation she can, and she needs to know more about this one to do that. And if anyone knew more about what Morrigan might be, it would be Jupiter North.

Looks like they’re paying a visit to the Hotel Deucalion.

Cadence wakes Hawthorne up once she’s made up her mind. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before saying, “To ask them about how to convince her to come back?”

“No, idiot, to figure out what Morrigan is. But that’s not actually a bad idea,” Cadence says. Hawthorne has a knack for finding the emotional side of everything.

“Thanks, Cadence,” Hawthorne says, sarcastically. “It’ll be nice to see them all again.”

“Maybe.”

Hawthorne laughs, but Cadence feels a wave of nausea at the thought of talking to the inhabitants of the Hotel Deucalion. There’s Jupiter North, who is overly friendly in a way that Cadence has no idea how to deal with. Dame Chanda and Frank are both intimidating in their flair and social know-how, whereas Fenestra is simply terrifying. Out of all of them, Cadence likes Kedgeree the most.

“I wonder if Jack will be there,” Hawthorne muses.

“Let’s hope not,” Cadence says. She and Jack Korrapati have a love-hate friendship in which they’ll brutally insult each other but then get tea after and make fun of people they both know. Cadence doesn’t particularly care to deal with it today.

Hawthorne and Cadence get off the train, and Cadence leads them to the next train they’ll have to take. A steady stream of evening commuters are arriving, and Cadence and Hawthorne weave through the crowd. They hop on their train, and Hawthorne passes the time by trying to come up with backstories for different passengers, which he whispers to Cadence. Cadence contributes a snide comment or two when she feels like it.

She appreciates the distraction.

Hotel Deucalion is a huge hotel in downtown, known for its upscale clientele and mysterious proprietor. Despite most of the staff being vampires or other paranormal entities, the hotel still caters to rich, regular humans. Cadence will never not be on her guard at the Hotel Deucalion.

As she and Hawthorne make their way through the lobby, Cadence relaxes her posture and keeps her head down. Despite some changes happening since Cadence was human, there haven’t been enough for her to discard her defense mechanisms. Hawthorne is much more welcome in this space than she is, and so she has him pave their way.

Hawthorne flings open the door to the basement of the Hotel Deucalion, and he and Cadence descend into the supernatural side of the hotel. The basement is lit by neon purple lights today, and it’s bustling. Some werewolves are playing pool, other witches are starting a game of poker. Two chimera children run in front of Cadence, almost tripping her up.

Cadence scans the crowd for Jupiter North. She spots him in the back, laughing with the vampire dwarf Frank. Cadence takes Hawthorne by the arm and heads towards him. Hawthorne resists, until he notices where they’re going.

Jupiter sees they’re approaching him, and sends Frank off with a blinding grin. It disappears when he turns towards them. “Where’s Morrigan?” he asks.

Cadence’s brow furrows. “You know her?”

“I know of her. Let’s go to my office.” Jupiter leads them to an unassuming door in the corner. He opens it, and gestures for them to go inside. Cadence and Hawthorne sit on the couch near the door, while Jupiter paces the room.

“What do you know about Morrigan?” Hawthorne asks, suspiciously.

“Nothing you two probably don’t suspect. Look, I’d hate to tell anyone this, but Morrigan is,” Jupiter takes a deep breath, “a daywalker.”

“I knew it,” Cadence mutters harshly.

“This doesn’t change anything, right? It can’t,” Hawthorne pleads.

Jupiter sighs. “It doesn’t have to. After their creation, daywalkers don’t do any harm to their environment inherently. Some choose to, but that’s all it is: a choice.”

Daywalkers are vampires that kill other vampires, and with their life energy become able to walk in the sunlight, and eat human food. The only downside is that a daywalker can’t transform into a bat.

Cadence doesn’t know how many vampires were killed to change Morrigan into a daywalker. She doesn’t want to. Sure, she and Hawthorne kill humans all the time, but it’s not the same. They could’ve known the vampires Morrigan killed.

But, it seemed like Morrigan regretted her murders. Cadence hopes so.

“Thanks, Jupiter,” Hawthorne says, sounding like he’s about to cry. Cadence rests her hand on his knee, trying not to think about how she feels the same.

“Always,” Jupiter says. “Now, do either of you know where Morrigan is?”

Cadence purses her lips. Hawthorne says, “We found her. It didn’t go well. She ran away.”

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful,” Jupiter responds sarcastically. “Well, do you two want to help me find her?”

“Why do you want to find her?” Cadence asks. Daywalkers are highly reviled in the vampiric community, and Cadence doesn’t want any harm to come to Morrigan before they can talk again.

“Don’t worry. I want the best for her,” Jupiter says. Cadence feels a weight disappear from her shoulders. “So. How about this? You two search the West Side, while I organize my staff to search the other neighborhoods. If she’s out of the city, I’ll find her.”

“How?” Hawthorne asks, incredulous.

Jupiter winks. “I have my ways.” In a lower voice, he says, “I have super good eyesight. Came after a millennium.” Often, vampires get senses sharpened as they age. Cadence doesn’t know why, but she’s looking forward to it.

Hawthorne and Cadence split up to search the West Side, and Cadence flies for what feels like hours alone. It’s not snowing anymore, but the winds keep slapping her back and forth. It takes all she has to will herself to keep flying, keep looking.

Cadence ends up being the one to find Morrigan. Morrigan’s in a city park, a small one that consists of a strip of land around a lake the size of a city block. She’s sitting on a bench feeding the ducks.

Cadence lands beside her, and once she changes back into her ‘human’ form she says, “Most park rangers would tell you not to feed the ducks, you know.”

Morrigan jumps a foot into the air. She narrows her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to find me again.”

“So what? We need to talk.” Cadence sits on the bench next to Morrigan.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m moving out. That’s all there is,” Morrigan says, a trace of sadness infusing her voice.

“If you really do want to move out, that’s fine. Hawthorne and I aren’t going to kidnap you or anything. But you don’t have to. Whoever you are, whatever you are, you don’t need to. We just want you back,” Cadence says. She’s been flying for almost the entire day. She is exhausted in both body and mind, and she’s surprised that she means exactly what she’s saying. “Come back, Morrigan. Please.”

Minutes pass before Morrigan speaks. “I’m a daywalker,” she begins. “I’m part of the Crow family-I’m assuming you knew that already, though. They kicked me out for being gay,” and here Morrigan’s voice cracks, “and Ezra Squall found me. He turned me, then made me a daywalker. He’s one too, you know, even more powerful than me. I stayed with him for a while. Longer than I should have. I did his bidding.”

Cadence tucks away the discovery of Ezra Squall’s villainy away for the moment. “But you left.”

“That doesn’t change what I did. What I am.”

“It’s what matters,” Cadence says. “You’re not that person anymore. You left, and you found us. That’s what matters. Come back.”

“You both are so…” Morrigan trails off. She doesn’t look at Cadence.

“When I first met Hawthorne, I punched him in the nuts. I didn’t admit we were friends for decades. I have been insufferable, and frustrating, and awful. I’ve made him cry countless times. I’ve hurt a lot of people, and I’ve murdered loads. You aren’t any worse than me.”

Morrigan turns to face Cadence. Now, Cadence can see the silent tears streaming down Morrigan’s face. “Don’t lie to me,” Morrigan says.

“Ask Hawthorne. I’m not lying. I would never lie about something like this,” Cadence promises.

Morrigan lets out an audible sob. She crumples into Cadence’s arms. Morrigan cries, and cries, and cries. She soaks Cadence’s shirt, and Cadence strokes her hair. They stay like that, fit together like puzzle pieces, until Morrigan lifts up her head.

“Thank you,” Morrigan says.

“Anytime,” Cadence says, and means it.

#nevermoor #nevermoor big bang #cadence blackburn #hawthorne swift #morrigan crow #nevermoor fanfic #leon writes #it was a lot of fun writing this <3

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baekhyuq · 3 years

Text

“Been through.” Baekhyun (M)

Halloween One shot !

(I know I’ve done a Phantom au already but I wanted to write this so badly, enjoy.)

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Ghost AU

Word count: 6k

Mini playlist:

Been through - EXO

Hello stranger - KAI

Cherish - EXO-CBX

Summary: You didn’t know the new house you bought came with an interesting roommate.

You sit alone in your empty house, you recently moved out of your parents house. You’ve saved up so much money to afford this place, it was your dream house. In a safe old neighborhood full of many elder residents. You loved how calm it was here, but the weather was… very questionable. You weren’t entirely satisfied with the recent weather, hopefully it was a habit the area had.

It was sunny and suddenly out of nowhere it poured rain, dark clouds rolling in and forcing you to close your windows you let open. You wanted to enjoy the breeze outside but that was ruined now. Plus your blueberry pie that was cooling off by the window was saved just in time before it was drenched with rain. You sighed, placing your hand on your hip. You were tired from all the organizing and decorating this whole week took. You were pleased with your finished results, but you think maybe the lack of sleep was getting to you. Some of your decorations would be back in the boxes you unpacked them in. And some of your things would be moved around. You ignored it for the most part, you still had so much more to go. You weren’t entirely finished unpacking or decorating. But the high traffic places like your bed and bathroom were finished.

The house became cold from the sudden rain, you walked over to turn the heat on. The cold made you shiver slightly, it was an old house with little to no insulation. The house was dark on the outside with a cabin like look, you loved how cozy it looked at night with the fire place lit and a cup of hot chocolate in your palms.

You set the apple pie in the fridge, you set it in a glass dish sitting the top over it. You baked it to give to your mother later when she would visit. The smell filled the kitchen, making you smile. You enjoyed baking especially for the people you loved.

You heard a thud come from the living room, your ears perked up turning your head in the direction. You walked over to the living room, seeing your lamp that was supposed to be on the table by your couch laying on the floor. Your eyes widened.

“What happened?” You ask to no one. You go to pick it up and you hear another thud, you turn to the noise to see one of your paintings on the wall has fallen. “Oh my god.” You freeze, you’re frozen in shock. How was everything falling? Was there an earthquake you couldn’t feel happening? Another noise from down the hallway makes goosebumps raise on your skin. You were too scared to move, you eyes started to water out of fear. You stood up anyways, peeking down the hallway to see the bathroom light on. You most definitely did not leave it on this morning. All of this wasn’t making any sense. You gripped your phone in your pocket, still frozen with fear unable to move to dial your mother’s number.

Your legs moved on their own toward the bathroom, you screamed at yourself to stop but you were reaching for the door knob opening it to see the faucet on and the room steamy. Your eyes widened as you looked up at the mirror.

“Hello.” Written across the mirror the steam from the bathroom making it clear.

You could feel your knees become weak as you became so paralyzed with fear. You shook your head, angrily wiping off the message and turning off the water. You shut off the light and slammed the door close, stomping back to the living room to pick up your lamp and painting. Placing them just as you had before.

It had been a week since that incident and you were feeling uneasy in your house now, as if someone was always watching you. You would always keep your doors locked even your bedroom door. You were becoming paranoid as the days went on with things missing and many items knocked over. The weirdest thing you experienced was at night, you heard footsteps in the hallway and you could hear a faint singing. You would be froze in your bed with the covers over your head, unable to investigate the sounds. You were too scared to call the police, what would they do? Tell you that you’re crazy and there’s nothing going on.

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth in the mirror with the door cracked. You spit out the toothpaste rinsing your mouth afterwards. You pause when you feel something touch your arm and breathing against your neck. You shot up looking in the mirror. Brown eyes were looking back at yours, you whipped around coming face to face with a complete stranger. He had a handsome face, a grin plastered on his lips.

“W-what-“

“Shh.” He places a finger to your lips. “Don’t be so loud.��

“What do you want? Money? I’ll give it to you, just don’t hurt me.” You’re trembling at this point, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Money? No, I wanted to see if you could see me as well.” He says quietly, “It turns out you can.”

You’re staring at him like he’s crazy. “What do you mean see you? You’re in my house, of course I can!” You shout. He winces at the loud noise, furrowing his brows. “Please calm down, I can explain-“

You feel as if you’re about to pass out from being so overwhelmed, your legs give out and your vision goes black.

Your eyes open to the sunlight hitting your face, you shoot up giving yourself a major headache.

“Don’t move so fast, you’ll become sick.” You hear.

You turn your head to the voice to see the man again. You grab the blanket, covering yourself. “Why are you still here? What are you here for?”

“Let me explain please.” He says walking closer to the bed, you hold up a hand as if to stop him and he does.

“From right there.” You’re nervous, your heart is beating so fast.

He nods, looking away from you. “I use to live here. Well… I still do live here.”

“You’re living here?” You ask in disbelief. “I was not aware of any type of roommate. Or are you some sort of squatter? Are you homeless?” Your questions come flooding out of your mouth.

“No I-I don’t own this house anymore. I’m not homeless either. I’m a ghost.”

At his words, you raise and eyebrow at him. “Is this some sort of stupid prank? I can call the police on you for this.” You threaten.

“I was the previous owner, after I passed away I never left the house. I never passed to the other side. I’m still here living here.” As he speaks, the words give you goosebumps. You researched about the house and the owners before you, there had been three.

“A-and what’s your name?” You ask, if he said the name you were thinking…

“Baekhyun-Byun Baekhyun.” He answers, his hands are clasped in front of him. He looked so nonthreatening.

“Oh my god.” You whispered.

“I don’t want you to freak out, but I had to introduce myself because… I guess I still live here, and I can see you.” He says so shyly. You can’t help but feel so bad for him, he had no say in who lived here.

“So you were the one moving my things?” You asked, letting your guard down. If he was this harmless ghost you shouldn’t be so scared.

“Yes-I-I’m sorry, I genuinely did not mean to. I was being so clumsy. I had to write something in response, I didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t just write sorry. That would have been weird.” He rubs the back of his neck.

You nod understandingly. “So..Now that we’ve met, will you always appear? Will I see you all the time.” You’re nervous for the answer, you kind of wouldn’t mind a roommate. He seemed nice and nonthreatening.

“Ah, yes.” He answers, “B-but I won’t be in your way, I will stay as hidden as possible.” He stutters embarrassed.

“No!” You stop him, “It’s okay, I understand your situation, you don’t have to live any different. I’m sorry it’s like this..” You give him a sad smile. “Ah.. let me get dressed. I’ll make us something and we can speak.” You say looking away.

His cheeks heat up and he’s frozen for a moment in disbelief he’d forgotten your state. “Yes, M-my bad.” He turns and walks straight through the door. Your eyes widen at the sight, you’re going to have to get use to that.

The silence between you too is awkward, Baekhyun’s not sure if he should speak up or wait for you to. He’s nervous to speak to you, he find’s you beautiful. He doesn’t want to act on his feelings though. You two were roommates by chance, he wouldn’t hold anything over you like a…relationship? He shakes his head, sipping the cup of coffee you made for him. He hadn’t eaten since his death, he didn’t really need to but the taste of things was still the same.

“So.. when you walked through my door earlier, do you think you could open doors instead? That was kind of shocking to see.” You speak up, ending the silence. Baekhyun spooked by your voice.

He nods, “Yes of course, I wouldn’t want to scare you even more. I’m so sorry about last night.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You blush, “I’m very curious how this works.”

“How what works?” Baekhyun raises and eyebrow at your question. You reach your hand over to touch Baekhyun’s and it falls through it landing on the table. “Ah.. I see. I can’t touch you?” You ask.

Baekhyun realizes and he opens his palms to you, “Try now.” You put your hands in his and feel his skin. It’s cold. So very cold.

“Are you freezing? Do you want me to turn the heat on some more? Do you want a jacket? Oh my god.” You’re so shocked at the temperature of his hands it makes you spring into action, grabbing your small space heater and placing it beside his feet. You grab one of your giant hoodies and throw it at him with a frown.

“You could’ve told me you were so cold..I feel awful.”

“I-I’m so use to the feeling, I haven’t noticed. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“No, we’re roommates now, remember? If you need something just ask..I want to help, I feel so bad.” You say wrapping your arms around yourself. “Your situation makes me sad. I’m not trying to treat you like a injured puppy, but I cant help it.”

Baekhyun smiles at you, “Thank you.” He’s sliding on the hoodie and it fits him perfectly. “This is comfortable.”

You nod, “You can keep it. I don’t wear it because it’s too big.” The silence between you two this time isn’t awkward, but comfortable.

“So, what do you do here?” You ask Baekhyun who’s staring at the television, his hands in his lap. He looks like a nervous kid.

“Ah, I usually just wonder around and take naps, not much really to do. Especially when the house was empty.” The blank expression on his face tells you he’s neither sad or happy.

“Is there anything you would like to do? Or want me to go get for you outside?” You offer, if he couldn’t leave you were more than happy to get it for him.

His eyes light up, “You would do that?”

You nod, a smile on your face.

“I…I really want a record player.” He says, a hopeful look in his eyes. “B-but you don’t have to. Please don’t feel obligated to-“

“No, it’s alright Baekhyun, I can get you one. Is there any particular records you would like?”

He shakes his head, “I have some you can use. In the attic.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to remember to buy one.” Your words but a happy smile on Baekhyun’s face.

“Thank you.. You’re so kind.” He’s looking into your eyes complimenting you.

Your cheeks become warm at the look, “It’s not a problem.”

You got home from a long shift, your feet hurt from your heels, instantly taking them off once you entered the house. You sighed as your feet touched the cold floor.

“Fuck.” You groaned. You limped your way to your room, Baekhyun’s eyes caught your limping figure.

“Are you okay?” He asks, turning around on the sofa, his hair messy from taking naps.

“My feet hurt from work, they’re so sore.” You say, coming into the living room.

“You know I use to give the best massages.” He offers, patting the seat beside him.

You drag your body to the cushion, letting your body sink into it. “I’m seriously so tired.” You say as Baekhyun takes your legs into his lap, rolling up his sleeves. His cold hands wrap around one of your feet and begin massaging them.

“Thanks for this, you didn’t have to.” You say as your head rests on the back of the sofa.

“Don’t worry about it, I remember coming home from work and being so tired I would just pass out on the sofa, never making it to my room.” Baekhyun’s thumbs put pressure on the bottoms of your feet.

You shake your head, “You shouldn’t work yourself to that extent, it’s never worth it. You can’t enjoy your reward if you’re always tired.. I had to learn that myself.”

Baekhyun nods, looking over at you, his breath hitches in his throat. He can see your exposed chest and neck, your collarbones on display. He quickly looks back down, continuing his movements. “I agree.” He says quickly.

After a while, Baekhyun realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He doesn’t wake you, but places a blanket over you and sits on the opposite couch. His cheeks become warm as his mind races back to the sight of you looking in such bliss. He couldn’t help but to imagine the sight in a different setting. He quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t act on them no matter what.

You wake up from your well deserved nap, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You realize Baekhyun placed a blanket over you, you smile at the kind gesture before getting up to shower. You let the warm water run over your aching muscles, it felt relieving. After you were finished you made your way to your room, changing into a comfortable pajama set. You slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and your slippers, time to find Baekhyun.

“Baek?” You called into the hallway, no answer. You walked around the house, finding him in the kitchen. “Hey.” You say.

He looks over his shoulder at you, a smile on his lips. “Hey.” He turns back to whatever he’s making on the stove. “I’m making dinner, I furred you would be too tired.” The way he’s so considerate and kind makes your heart flutter, your stomach is filled with butterflies when he tells you to have a seat. He sits a plate in front of you with delicious smelling food, your stomach makes a sound and you look to see if Baekhyun had heard. He’s looking at you with a grin.

“Eat, don’t wait for me.” He encourages, off to get his own plate. He sits in the chair across from you, his feet brushing yours under the table accidentally. You both make eye contact at the accident, before both looking down at your plates. You eat quietly, the sound of forks hitting plates filling the kitchen.

“What did you do for work?” You cut the silence with a simple question.

Baekhyun looks up from his plate, his cheeks are comically stuffed with food. He chews before answering, “I was a fireman.”

Your eyes widen slightly, “Wow, really? I wouldn’t have expected that of you. You’re so small.” You laugh.

He raises an eyebrow at your claim, “I am not. I’m very strong, I’m capable of a lot.” He looks you up and down, somehow it makes you feel exposed. “I would bench press you I’m sure.”

You scoff, “You definitely don’t look it, I think I would be bench pressing you.” You stand from your chair, “Come here, i’ll show you.”

Baekhyun raises and eyebrow at you before standing, walking around the table. You bend at your knees, wrapping your arms around Baekhyun’s legs, unsuccessfully picking him up. He laughs at your attempt.

“You did a lot of smack talk.” He crosses his arms.

“Stop, I swear I can.” You cry, “I don’t know why I’m struggling.” You try again and fail, only lifting him a bit before giving up. “I picked you up a tiny bit. So that counts right?”

He shakes his head, “Of course not, let me show you how it’s done kid.” Baekhyun bends slightly and picks you up with no struggle. You’re slung over his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to show off.” You roll your eyes.

He places you back on your feet and you steady yourself by holding onto his shoulder. “I told you, I’m very capable.”

You cross your arms over your chest, “Capable of showing off. Let’s see the guns then.” You tease. To your surprise Baekhyun lifts his arms flexing slightly, you can see the definition in his arms and you’re shocked. You reach out to squeeze them, he laughs at your amazement.

“How? You look like you’re such a pool noodle.” You were almost lying. You noticed his broad shoulders and back when he wasn’t looking. Maybe he was hiding it under his clothes?

“Thanks for the compliment.” He says sarcastically, his hands on his hips. The sight of him right now was so… sexy? The thought crossed your mind before you could stop it. You’re shocked by your own mind, not hearing Baekhyun speaking to you.

“Y/n?” He calls.

“Sorry, yeah?” You look up at him, he’s grinning at you.

“I’ll clean up the table, you don’t have to worry about it.” He moves to start taking the dishes to the stink.

“Thank you for dinner, it was really good by the way.” You say, catching how the compliment makes Baekhyun shy as he says thank you. You grin before walking to the living room to find a movie to watch before bed. You settled on a romance movie you haven’t seen yet, it looked pretty interesting.

The movie begins and you can hear Baekhyun washing the dishes, the sound of clanking dishes in the background. As the movie goes on you become to intrigued you don’t hear Baekhyun come in the living room to sit by you. You jump when you feel his knee bump your accidentally. “Sorry.” He says.

You apologize for jumping, pulling your legs into the couch. “This movie is really good so far.”

“What’s it about?” Baekhyun asks, turning his attention to the screen.

“This woman’s husband dies and turns into a ghost and comes to see her. It’s kind of sad.” You frown, looking over at Baekhyun who equally looks as sad as you do. You realize the insensitive nature of the movie, “Do you want me to turn it? I-I didn’t realize…”

“No it’s okay, we can watch this I don’t mind it.” He shakes his head.

You two continue watching it, you feel terrible the entire time. It finally ends and you would normally say goodnight to Baekhyun but you stay seated.

“Baekhyun.” You speak. He turns to face you, you’re looking at your lap. “Do you get lonely when I go to sleep?” You ask. It bothered you leaving him out here alone. He said he would watch tv or take naps, but it made you feel so sad. Like kicking a puppy out of your room when you went to sleep. “I-“ He pauses, “Yeah. I do, but don’t think about that. You need your rest for work, you don’t want to stay up late.” His words make you frown.

You shake your head, you grab onto the sleeve of his shirt. “Come with me, tonight.” Your heart is aching. This is his house as well but he can’t even sleep in his own room?

His heart stops for a second at your words. “Y/n I don’t think-“

“No, you’re coming with me.” You pull him up, leading him to your room. “I have a tv here too, you can watch whatever.” You sit on your side of the bed, patting the spot beside you. “You can sit here.” You smile up at him. He reluctantly sits down, he’s so extremely careful to not touch you in anyway as you lay down and pull the covers over yourself. “Sleep whenever you’re tired.” You say to him when you close your eyes.

“Goodnight Baek, I’ll be here.”

A few weeks pass since you two met, you both found out more about each other. The chemistry between you two was perfect, you both cracked jokes and spoke about interesting topics. The air had come comfortable between you two, no longer awkward.

You closed the front door with your foot as your hands were preoccupied with a box.

“Baekhyun!” You called, sitting the large box down on the kitchen table. His head peeked around the corner, finding you standing in the kitchen. “Tada!” You say gesturing to the box.

Baekhyun’s jaw drops, slowly walking toward the box. “You’re seriously the best. I didn’t expect you to actually buy one.” He says, “It’s beautiful.”

“Open it, I’ll go get your records.” You smile, patting him on the arm.

Dropping down the ladder to the attic you climbed up before looking for a box that said records, you picked it up and carefully went back down the ladder. You came back to the kitchen to find Baekhyun set up the record player in the living room.

“It fits the room.” You say, earning Baekhyun’s attention.

“Doesn’t it?” He admires it, he feels his heart pounding so loudly. He hasn’t been this excited in so long.

“Here. You choose.” You set the box on the ground, kneeling as he shifts through them. He plucks one with his slender hand and takes it out the sleeve. He gently places it down before it plays, he adjusts the volume and soft music starts to fill the room. You watch the small smile appear on his lips again, it makes your heart skip a beat. His handsome smile makes you want to reach out and tell him how charming he looks. He turns to your suddenly, his smile widening. It makes you glance down at his lips and back at his eyes, admiring how handsome he was. Baekhyun walks toward you, holding his hand out as if to ask you to dance. You shake your head, shy.

“I don’t know how to dance..” Your voice is quiet.

“Just follow me.” He encourages, his hand still out for you.

You look at his slender hand, then to him, accepting it and stepping into his embrace. He places your hand on his shoulder and intertwines his hand with your other, wrapping his arm around your waist loosely. He begins to slowly move the two of you, you’re following his moves hesitantly. You begin to get the feel of the dance after repeating it and you’re both dancing to the music freely. Baekhyun admires the smile on your face, you look so beautiful and vibrant. He can’t help but to be super aware of your chest against his, he painfully ignores it nonetheless. As the song becomes slow, you rest your head on Baekhyun’s chest, slowly moving both of your bodies from side to side. The swaying is comforting, causing you to hum the tune of the song as you slowly sway.

“This is nice.” You say, “I’m happy to have company. I was becoming lonely here..” Your confession makes Baekhyun’s heart beat loudly. You can hear and feel how hard it’s beating from his chest.

He swallows thickly, “I’m happy to be your company.” Baekhyun says, “I-I like being around you as well.” His words cause you to lift your head to look him in the eyes. He’s taken back at your sudden movement and has stopped swaying to the music. Your eyes shift from his eyes to his parted lips. He looks adorable being so flustered. You can feel the gravitational pull toward him, you can’t stop your face from coming closer to his. He can’t seem to stop himself either.

Dropping your hand, he cups your cheek in his soft hand, bringing you two to meet in the middle. Your lips collide and you feel a spark of electricity shoot between you both. You can’t believe how soft his lips are on yours, the slow kiss causing butterflies in your tummy. His hand on your waist traveling up your back pushing you into him. You gasp allowing him to explore your mouth with his tongue. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, a hand lightly tugging his hair. Baekhyun grunts at the feeling, he’s always ignored his feelings toward you because of you two being the strangest set of roommates. But for some reason, your eyes looking up into his set him off. He couldn’t contain his urge to smother you with a kiss.

Baekhyun pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open to his brown ones. “Truthfully speaking…” He starts, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

His words make you smile, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one.” You pet his head, comfortingly. “I couldn’t resist how charming you looked, and to see how kind you were as well. I was hooked.”

It’s Baekhyun’s turn to blush, he’s flustered at your confession. “I-I didn’t think you thought of me that way.”

You look up at him with a smile, nodding. “I do.” Your hand in Baekhyun’s hair ruffles it, watching it fall messily in place on his forehead.

He brings you back to a kiss, this one more passionate than the first. His hand on the back of your neck holding you in place. You let your hands rest over his chest, grabbing his shirt lightly. You’re trying to contain your excitement.

“Okay, we should stop before something happens.” He says breaking the kiss, “I don’t want to scare you.”

You bite your lip, “I agree.” You step away from him, sliding your hand down his chest as you walk past him. Your hand grabs his sleeve, pulling it slightly to get his attention. “But I also want to have some fun.”

Baekhyun turns to you, a sly look on your face. He’s surprised but nonetheless follows you as you lead him to your bedroom. You push him down to sit on your bed, you rest your hands on his shoulders as you lean over to place a kiss on his lips. Baekhyun smiles in a daze as you pull away, you let your hands slide down his chest as you sit on your knees.

“May I?” You tug at his bottoms, your question makes Baekhyun’s heart pound loudly. He nods in response. You unbutton his pants and can see the outline of his erection. You’re surprised to see him hard this fast, you weren’t blaming him, you were as turned on as he was. You palm him through his boxers, looking up to see him catch his lip between his teeth. He’s leaning back on his hands, he looks so incredibly charming. You push him back to lay down and you slide your hand under his shirt feeling his cold skin. Your fingers brush over his hip bones and over his stomach, you lean up to place a few kisses on his skin by the hem of his pants. Baekhyun sucks in a sharp breath, his hand reaching for you but stops denying his own desire to touch you. You realize and pull his hand to rest on your head, giving him some control. You wanted him to enjoy this thoroughly.

You pull his pants down slowly along with his boxers, you see him for the first time expose to you. You never thought you would see the sight before you. Baekhyun’s heaving chest, his messy hair, his exposed tummy and his erect dick all in one. It was the perfect masterpiece. You hear Baekhyun let out a whine, you didn’t make him wait any longer. You grabbed him gently pumping your hand around him, earning a loud grunt from him. A smile spread on your face, you couldn’t explain why pleasing Baekhyun felt so right. You teased Baekhyun by going an agonizingly slow pace, wanting to hear a noise from him. He looked down at you with pleading eyes, he saw your eager eyes staring back at him. His hand resting on your head tangled in your hair pulling it slightly letting out a displeased whine. You rewarded him with speeding up your movements, your other hand resting on his hip bone. Baekhyun felt his head become dizzy from the sensation, your hand felt so perfect wrapped around him. He couldn’t have asked for any more, but you gave it to him. Wrapping your lips around Baekhyun’s tip had him a moaning mess. His hand tangled in your hair pulled even harder, the sting felt delicious. You felt yourself becoming wet, your legs folded under you. You started to slowly bob your head, you stopped sometimes to see if Baekhyun would control you by your hair. He did become impatient finally, pushing you down on his length. You felt it hit the back of your throat, your eyes stung with tears. It was such a rewarding feeling to have him in your mouth and his hand on the back of your head. Baekhyun’s moans, grunts and whines were music to your ears, they filled the room the longer you went on. You sadly stopped to catch your breath, causing Baekhyun to open his eyes to catch you. You looked back at him with tears on your cheeks and your lips swollen. His hand traveled from your head to your cheek, bringing you to stand up. He pulled you toward him, pulling you into a kiss. He could taste the saltiness on your tongue, he shivered at it.

“I want you.” He says breathlessly, “I want to have you to myself.” His hand is on your waist, pushing you down on the bed. He takes off the rest of his clothing, then moves to yours. Your shorts and shirt disappear, leaving you in your bra and panties. He stops to admire your gorgeous figure, running his hands down your sides watching as you shiver. He leans down over you, his lips kissing over your chest and neck. He frees you of your bra, watching as you breasts become free. He’s right back kissing your chest, his finger brushing over your breasts. Making his way down your body he kisses over your navel, kissing right above your hips. He elicits a sigh from you, it causes him to look up at your closed eyes and quivering lip. He grins, coming up to hovering right above your lips waiting. When you feel Baekhyun stop your eyes open, he’s right above you with that charming look. You’re finding it hard to resist him at this point. You pull him down onto you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You’ve never been so needy, you can feel his length resting right on your clit. You let out a whine when he moves his hips, grinding against you. He doesn’t give a warning when he bites and sucks on your neck, earning another loud noise from you.

“You’re so loud.” He teases, his hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. You smack his shoulder in response unable to say a word as you’re so focused on the feeling between your hips.

“Fuck..” Your drawn out moan causes Baekhyun’s dick to twitch. You can feel it and it pleases you, you tangle your hand in Baekhyun’s hair. He grunts into your neck as he’s grinding even harder on you, his length practically soaked from you. He leans back, resting on his knees as he spreads your legs. He moves your panties aside, looking up at you before he rubs his thumb over your clit. You bite your lip containing your moans, he grins when he notices.

“May I?” He asks. You eagerly nod, you’ve been ready since you entered the room.

“Please.” You say with your

Baekhyun’s not sure why your plead made him even harder and more desperate. He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself in. You feel so full you’re completely still till he moves, his hips rolling into yours slowly. You let out a curse before letting your eyes close in pleasure, your jaw dropping.

“You feel so good.” You hear him say, his hand is on your hip and the other is suddenly cupping your cheek. Your eyes open to find him only inches from your face. You close them again as he places his lips on yours, the sensation of him rolling waves of pleasure into you and your lips colliding has your heart pounding in your chest. Baekhyun’s is beating just as hard and you only know because your breasts are pressed to his chest. Your legs wrap around him once more, pulling him in deeper. You lift your hips off the mattress, Baekhyun holds them as he’s thrusting into you. His breathing is becoming labored, he can feel himself coming to his end. But he doesn’t want this moment to end. He pulls out, traveling down your body still his lips meet with your clit. He slowly licks and sucks at your clit, inserting a finger into you as well. You almost yelp at how fast Baekhyun moved, but his tongue on you has you silent. The intense feeling of your orgasm is so close you could kiss it. Your hands find his hair and you’re tugging on it harshly, you can’t keep quiet anymore as you let a whine out.

“Baekhyun.” You say breathlessly, “Stop.. I’m going to..” You trail off as your legs begin to shake from becoming sensitive to his repeated licking. “Fuck, it feels so good though.”

Baekhyun feels your thighs shake and your walls quiver around his finger, he’s ready to climax as much as you. Sitting back up, he lines himself up with you once more and pushes in with no hesitation. He embraces you tightly as he thrusts into you, it’s such a blissful sensation, you’re so sensitive and on the edge of coming undone its practically happened. Baekhyun feels you begin to clench around him and it sends him into a dizzy state. Before you know it you’re climaxing all over Baekhyun’s dick, he can feel it become more slippery as he thrusts. The squelching sound drives Baekhyun mad, he thrusts even faster reaching his own orgasm. He twitches in you, spurting out warm ropes of cum.

You’re out of breath when Baekhyun collapses on you, your sticky bodies together. You’re completely in bliss as he places kisses on your shoulder, letting himself slip out of you. The pink tinge on Baekhyun’s cheeks make you smile, you wrap your arms around him as you both close your eyes.

“Y/n?” He says his lips on your neck. You hum, too tired to speak.

“I think I’m in love.”

151 notes · View notes

ithinkilikeit-reactions · 3 years

Text

The coffee and the cup (Jeong Yunho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: You bet your ass this was inspired by the pottery video. I was also inspired by a lot of ceramics artists I follow on instagram and thought this was fun.

This is a feel good story, no bad things, just good. Just wanted a feel good thing.

Tags: Potter! Yunho x Café owner reader!, Fem! reader, a lot of pining and sweet glances, coffee, a freshly starting relationship, love confessions, Hongjoong that likes to judge

Smut tags: Very sweet, gentle, soft dom! Yunho, marking, oral (female receiving), Fingering (female receiving), scratching, Praise, teasing, Unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all)

Word count: 8046 (I don’t do short stories)

There was something utterly comforting about the feeling a café could give you. It was something that you had always enjoyed, from being in middle school, getting cookies and chocolate milk before school, to high school and college where you did all day study sessions, cafe’s had become a safe haven for you. Therefore it was only natural that you had grown up with a dream of starting your own.

With the little money you had managed to save up and the help from your family, your cafe had become a reality. A reality that you never thought would happen. It was even more surreal as you unpacked your first groceries and placed them in the pantry and refrigerator, looking around your place. Your place.

It was small, with only two, two persons tables indoor and two outdoors, it was more a “grab a drink and go” type of place and it was perfect for you. It was seated in a small street, filled with small locally owned businesses and what better way to introduce yourself, than to bake.

A classic lemon blueberry muffin was the taste of coming home, the taste you wanted to sell at your store, a taste you wanted to give your fellow shop owners. You wanted people to feel comforted at your place, so you made something comforting with a little twist, so that everybody could see what type of person you were. Baking was your second love to coffee, so you went to work making around 30 muffins. The delicious smell filling your store and placing a smile on your face. Nothing could drag your day down, not that day.

Once the muffins had cooled enough from coming out of the oven, you packaged them carefully and placed them all in a little wicker basket, setting off to say hi to your neighbors. Starting with the little music instrument store right next door. The owner wasn’t what you expected at all, young, well dressed with one painted nail on each hand, going by the name Hongjoong. He greeted you with an amazing smile, wondering how he could help you.

“Welcome! Can I help you find anything?” He asked and you couldn’t help but beam a smile back at him. “No believe me you wouldn’t want me playing any instruments. I bought the café next door and wanted to introduce myself!” You said raising your basket to show him. “Oh! Welcome to the neighborhood!” He shook your free hand, smiling at you brightly. “So you’re going to be providing us caffeine from now on. I greatly appreciate it.” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh. It’s nice that people were missing a café here, gave you hope that you would do well.

You grabbed one package of muffins and placed them on his counter. “I hope you like lemon blueberry muffins. I made them from scratch and well they’re my personal favorite.” You explained and he tore into the packaging quickly. “I’m partial to anything made with bread.” He said, pulling apart a muffin and popping a piece into his mouth. “Oh, everyone around here is going to love these. You should head to Wooyoung’s restaurant down the street, Yeosang’s skate shop, Oh and Yunho’s little store next door. He might eat you out of house and home but oh boy he might become your best customer. These are delicious.” He complimented and you felt a sigh of relief. No matter how many people tried your food and drinks, you still got anxious when it came to their opinions. “I’ll head there now. Would be nice to have a customer before we even open.” You said softly and Hongjoong nodded. “He’s loyal too. If he likes what you have, he’ll never go anywhere else.” He added, making you laugh.

The sound of the door opening behind you made you glance in that direction, seeing a teenage boy looking around the instruments. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” You said, heading for the door. “Thank you again for the muffins and if you ever need any help with anything, don’t be stranger.” Hongjoong told you, making you feel all warm in your chest. He was incredibly kind, you could tell from the way he carried himself. “I won’t. Have a good day!” You said, waving as you exited his store.

It was an incredibly good day out, sun brightly shining down on you as you walked to the little shop next to the music store. The bell signaled that you entered the building, but there was no one in sight. You stood by the door a moment, not wanting to overstep boundaries even if it was a store to shop in. Not only for that reason though, you were scared to knock something over and break it.

The store was filled with shelves lining the bright yellow painted walls, on those shelves were a bunch of clay made works. From little figurines to beautifully sculpted plates, vases and mugs coated with bright paint. It was all so colorfull and bright, making a large smile pull over your lips.

However, no one came to the front so you remained still another moment before calling out. “Hello?” You asked, holding on to your basket and leaning forward to see if you could spot anyone. “Hello?” You asked again, not really expecting a response but wanting to make sure.

“Come on to the back, I can’t open the door back here because my hands are really dirty!” A voice called out and spotted the door that muffled it. You maneuvered yourself carefully to not knock things over as you made your way to the door, spotting a few mugs and plates you wouldn’t mind adding to the café’s collection on your way. You stood in front of the door not quite knowing what to expect when you opened the door, but you did it anyways.

It lead to a little studio, with big windows in the back and more shelves lining the room. In the middle sat a pottery wheel with what looked like a half finished vase resting on it. But what was really eye catching, was the man washing his hands by the sink in the corner.

He was tall, with long legs, dark hair and broad shoulders. Wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had clay stains all over them. Then he turned around, finally exposing his face to you and you seemingly felt your knees get weak. Never in your life had you seen eyes like his, so big and full of emotion. It only made the stripe of dried clay on his cheek seem even cuter.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked, drying his hands before walking towards you. Lifting your basket, you had a hard time finding words for a moment as he smiled at you. “I- uh- Hongjoong next door sent me over. I bought the café 2 doors down and wanted to introduce myself.” You explained, watching his smile get even bigger. You quickly stuck your hand out to his and he looked down at it, taking it gently. “I’m Y/N.” You said, really taking note of the way his eyes sparkled. “I’m Yunho.”

Now Yunho knew it wasn’t really all that common for people his age to make a living off of pottery and art. But he saw that as a challenge, a challenge he took head on and had managed to do it. It was his passion, it was what he was good at and well, the looks of surprise on people’s faces when they asked him what he did for a living was an added plus.

Now he hadn’t been expecting any visitors that day so he was taking the time to create a vase he had been thinking about making. But he wasn’t mad at the interuption at all, especially not one in such cute packaging. Your yellow sundress was inviting, your pink cheeks even more so and not to mention the wicker basket with baked goods. You looked like the angel of his own personal heaven.

“I made muffins, they’re lemon blueberry.” You said, pulling the two packaged muffins out of the basket and handing them to him. You were feeling incredibly shy suddenly, even though the man was radiating nothing but a positive energy. “Oh! You said Hongjoong sent you?” Yunho asked, taking the packaging. You nodded at his words and he let out a hearty laugh. “He knows my kryptonite, baked goods.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words as he took one more step closer to you.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are you making?” You asked, gesturing to the pottery wheel. Yunho’s eyes widened at your interest before moving back towards the wheel. “I was asked to make a vase specifically for calla lillies. The design needed to be ‘unique’ according to the client.” He laughed and you took a step closer to look at the clay better. Unique was definitely an accurate description for it, but beautiful none the less. “It’s really pretty.” You said and looked back at him. He was watching your response to his work, finding it endearing how focussed you were on it.

“I have something for you.” Yunho said quickly, wanting to welcome you to neighborhood properly. He gestured for you to follow him back to the front of the shop as he scanned his shelves for something. “Something for me?” You asked, following him as looked around. “Yes, something for you. To welcome you to the neighborhood.” He said sounding incredibly cheerful which made butterflies fill your stomach.

It was funny how Yunho had taken a few looks at you and instantly had a piece of his in mind to gift you. It just seemed like it suited you, with your bright choice in muffin flavors and the sunny aura that you had radiated to him. It was just an obvious choice to him.

“There they are.” He said, pulling 2 mugs from the back of a shelf. They were made for a large cup of coffee, with sunflowers molded onto them and painted. They were very pretty and something you most definitely would have picked out for yourself. He quickly shuffled to his counter, wrapping them with paper for protection and placing them in a little bag. Yunho was a little scatterbrained, self admittedly, but it was only natural to get a little extra nervous when there was a pretty girl in front of him.

“I hope these get put to good use when the café opens.” He said, as he wrote something on a card and slipped it into the bag. You caught a glimpse of his handwriting, noting how messy and cute it was before looking away again. “I’ll definitely put them to good use. I’ll make sure to serve my first cup of coffee in one.” You promised and Yunho could feel his ears burning red. “Good.” He said softly, sliding the bag in your direction. “The shop opens in 2 days, I would enjoy it if you stopped by.” You said softly as you grabbed the bag and placed it in your basket. “I’ll be there for sure.” He said, simply standing and looking at you. You admittedly were doing the same, finding yourself getting absolutely lost in those eyes before tearing yourself away. “I have a few more stops to make-” You started, walking towards the door because you were embarrassed for staring.

“I really hope you enjoy those muffins.” You finished, placing your hand on the door handle and looking back at him one more time. “I most definitely will.” Yunho smiled, watching you leave his shop before leaning down and pressing his forehead against the counter. He hadn’t had a rush from someone in a long time, you were like a shot of caffeine and he had you on his mind for the rest of the day.

You had brought around the rest of your muffins before coming back to your shop. It was now late in the afternoon and the had calmed down quite a bit. You had discovered that your new little neighborhood was close, tight knit. Everyone seemed to know eachother and something about that was quite comforting. Wooyoung’s resaurant was incredibly home-y with delicious food (he had forced you to sit down and enjoy some food) and Yeosang’s skate shop was just adorable with a lot of custom boards there and they all seemed to know eachother quite well. It was helping you realise you had chosen the right spot, you needed the support.

Sitting down at a table, you placed your basket down as well. The whole afternoon you had been curious about what Yunho had written down on the card. It was on your mind the whole time and well so was he. He was quite magnetic, awkward and just very cute, you really couldn’t help it.

Pulling the mugs from the bag, you unwrapped them carefully so that you can take in the details more. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to before, you were entirely too focussed on something or rather someone else. You held one of the mugs in your hand, looking it over and running your fingers over the smooth ridges. It was all so incredibly detailed and such a sweet gift.

You put the mug down and pulled the card from the bag. It was just simple cardstock with no design on it, only his writing and you felt the butterflies bubble back up as you read.

“I thought it was a good day because of the weather, but I guess it was because you were in the neighborhood. I can’t wait to stop by your café when it opens, but I would love it even more if you would go on a date with me, maybe let me teach you how to sculpt. I’ll leave my number for you.

It was nice meeting you, sunshine.

- Yunho

P.S the mugs are handwash only”

You laughed at the last sentence holding the letter to your chest as you did so. A date with Yunho, it was all so sweet. Not to mention his nickname for you had you swooning.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you placed the mugs on the counter and put the card by your store’s phone. It was too soon to call right away, but you were definitely going to call. There was no doubt about that, you could feel a connection with him instantly and you couldn’t help but mentally thank Hongjoong for that.

Time had seemingly slipped away from you after that day. You had been incredibly busy the day after, getting everything ready and prepared for your grand opening. Baking what you could, grinding coffee beans and preparing mugs, plates and other items. You weren’t expecting a huge turnout or anything... but it never hurt to be prepared.

But that coupled with your anxiety for doing well, you seemingly forgot about Yunho’s number that was just waiting to be called by your phone. It was purely accidental that it happened, that it had all slipped your mind.

But you were quickly reminded of it when he stood in front of you, after you had given one of your first customers their order of coffee and an oatmeal cookie. There he was, standing in front of you at 10 a.m, wearing a lightly striped button down tucked into black jeans. Considerably more dressed up than the last time you had seen him, however this image of him made you think of his number and you panicked.

“Oh my god Yunho, I forgot to call.” You said, clasping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. You felt absolutely horrible at the realization however Yunho could only laugh. “It’s alright, it’s alright sunshine. I figured you were busy with the opening and everything so I didn’t take it to heart.” He smiled at you and you pouted. “I feel really bad. What can I do to make it up to you?” You asked, walking around your little counter because from what you could tell, there were no more customers left to serve aside from him in the café.

Your response was just so cute to him, he didn’t think you owed him anything at all. He gave you his number and it was your choice to call him or not. However he still would have really like that date, especially seeing you again. You were wearing a simple orange, shin length, floral skirt with a black t-shirt tucked into it and an apron fastened around your waist. You were... sunny to him.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you don’t owe me anything. But I would still like to know if you would like to go on a date with me?” He asked and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at his question. “Oh and I would love another lemon blueberry muffin. I ate both alarmingly fast the other day.” He added on quickly, laughing as he did so. He didn’t want you to feel pressure, at all. Yunho wanted you to go out with him because you wanted too, not anything else.

You looked down to the ground in attempts to hide the blush on your cheeks, before pulling yourself together and finally looking up into his eyes. “I can definitely do a date and I can also definitely do a muffin.” You said and quickly disappeared behind your counter again. Yunho watched with adoration as you did, incredibly happy but trying to keep things cool.

“Here is your muffin... would you like anything else?” You asked, handing him the packaged treat and his fingers grazed yours. “No, I got what I came for.” Yunho said and reached for his wallet. “No, it’s on the house.” You stopped him and he looked at you, opening his mouth to say something. “I know you said I don’t owe you anything but, just take it. For my own sake.” You explained and he bit down on his lip to keep his smile to a minimum. “Thank you.” He said softly, back away from the counter because how much he was beaming.

“Call me to set up the date tonight? Okay?” He said, now leaning in the open door of the café. “I will. I definitely will this time.” You said and he nodded, walking away and letting himself smile fully.

Your first day was incredibly good, a total of almost 50 customers which really wasn’t much but still good and a date settled with an absolutely beautiful man. It was just a good day, you smelled like coffee when you got home and there was nothing better than that. Life was coming together.

He had set things up in such a specific way, he wanted this to be perfect. Something about you drew Yunho in so much, he didn’t want to mess this date up at all. It meant a lot to him.

So when you showed up to his store again, ready for your date, he had his heart in his throat. He had told you to wear something you wouldn’t mind that got dirty and well you listened, showing up in overall you deemed your “paint overalls” the ones you would wear while painting your house and some beat up Converse sneakers. Yunho was wearing the same clothes from the day you had first met and waiting inside his store when you appeared at the door.

“You look very cute.” Yunho commented, the second you entered the building and your cheeks flushed red. “I’m used to people starting conversations by saying hello.” You said, leaning onto the counter he was stood behind. He mimiced your actions, face getting closer to yours. “Hello. You look very cute.” He teased and you looked down to avoid his gaze with a soft smile. “Anyways, what are we doing today?” You asked, standing back up fully and slipping your hands into your pockets.

“Well, do you need anything else for your shop?” Yunho asked and you took a moment to think. “I was thinking about stopping by for some small, single flower vases. To see if you even had anything like that. Why?” You asked and he pushed himself off the counter.

Now if you had said no, he would have sat you down to make something random just to have fun. But now he was going to give you something you could absolutely make use of and hopefully something to remind you of him.

“I figured I could teach how to make them, something you want exactly.” Yunho said, scratching the back of his head because he was now completely questioning his own idea. “Oh!!! I would absolutely love that!” You said, needing to contain your excitement. Something about a date like this really touched your heart and even if this wouldn’t go anywhere, you know you would remember it for the rest of your life.

He let out a sigh of relief before leading you to his studio, where he had set up a picnic blanket on the floor next to the large windows with a basket filled with treats. You couldn’t help but place your hand on your chest, your heart pounding because of how sweet he was.

“Jeong Yunho, I do believe you are a romantic.” You said, gesturing to the blanket and he had to hold back a laugh. “Maybe just a little bit... I just thought we could talk a bit while the clay is in the kiln.” He explained, well rambled more. He was absolutely making your heart melt and there was no doubt about it.

He sat you down behind the wheel after preparing everything for you, the damp clay sitting on top of the wheel. You looked up at him, questioning what to do because this was completely foreign territory to you. “Start spinning the wheel and wet your hands in that bowl and just start feeling around the clay a bit. Get a feel of what you’re doing.” He said, crouching down by your side. You followed his instructions, under his carefull gaze.

Yunho had guided your hands carefully from next to you, until you had accidentally placed way too much pressure on the clay and denting the form. “Oh, uhh let me see if I can fix that.” Yunho said, seeing how you struggled to get it back the way it was. You stood and he took your seat, his height when sitting coming up to your shoulders. He was mesmerizing to watch as he sculpted, eyes focussed on the wheel and lips kind of pursed. He was just so pretty.

“I think I get it.” You said and he looked at you in confusion. “This suits you, sitting here behind the pottery wheel, working with your hands. It really suits you. You’re completely in your element. It’s really beautiful to see.” You explained further and he allowed the wheel to slow down, to look up at you.

You didn’t even realise how close you were until you felt his breath fan over your lips and you suddenly felt excitement in your chest. So you made a split second decision, you made a judgement call.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his very soft looking, plump lips. Yunho was caught off guard, not having expected that at all but not complaining either. In the few hours you had maybe spent together, there was something completely undeniable there.

Now admittedly, the kiss was too long for it to be a peck and that was because Yunho could’ve sworn he tasted strawberry on your lips. It left him wanting more, so he deepened the kiss and for a moment you forgot your hands were covered in wet clay. You cupped his face, only for him to laugh against your lips and you realised your mistake.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” You said, pulling away and looking at your hand prints on his cheeks. Yunho couldn’t stop laughing, maybe because of how ridiculously funny the situation was or maybe because of the pure joy he was feeling. “I got too caught up - I- I- completely forgot my hands were-.” You explained in frustration, really wanting to cover your face in embarrassment but deciding against it with better judgement.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Can you just maybe wash your hands and then hand me that washcloth by the sink?” He asked and you did as told quickly bringing him the damp cloth to help him get your marks off of him. His cheeks and ears were flushed the whole time as you did so, eyes following your movements and reading the concern on your face. “It’s really okay.” Yunho laughed, comforting you a little more but you couldn’t help but stay embarrassed. “It’s definitely a story to tell. Not my best first kiss admittedly.” You said and pushed your hair out of your face, not your brightest moment most definitely.

“I mean, I could act like it didn’t happen. Or we could just have a do over?” Yunho suggested, placing the cloth down on the counter and looking at you with a cheeky smile. He just wanted to make sure it was really strawberry he was tasting on your lips. “A do-over?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him.

His hands came up to your waist, pulling you a tad closer by the belt loops of your overalls before leaning down to your level again. You cupped his face, allowing your thumbs to run over the smooth skin of his cheeks and smilled to yourself. “Oh sunshine, you’re just the cutest.” He said softly and closed the space inbetween you too. This was it, this was what it was supposed to feel like. Butterflies flying around your stomach and your heart pounding in your chest because of how badly you wanted to kiss someone. This was right.

Your hands moved from his cheeks to his hair as he deepened the kiss, tasting that sweet strawberry flavor again and making a mental note to ask you about it later. His hands held your waist gently, not moving in any way in fear of overstepping his boundaries.

Pulling away again, this time with a considerable less amount of embarrassment, you placed your hands on his chest gently. “You see, that’s what I was trying to do.” You said softly, toying with the fabric of his shirt. “I figured.” He said in response, letting eachother go in the process. “Your lips taste like strawberries, as if you couldn’t get any more sweet.” Yunho commented, just looking at you with mild disbelief as you sat behind the pottery wheel again. You knew exactly why you tasted that way, you were experimenting with strawberry creme for on top of cupcakes and had to taste test it.

“Come by the café some more and I’ll show you why.” You smiled cheekily and started to spin the wheel again, wanting to finish your vase. “Hmm, sounds good. It sounds like another date.”

“That’ll be 7.50.” You said cheerily before going to pour her coffee and grab her 2 slices of coffee cake. You handed her, her items and waved her out of the store before letting out a sigh. There was a dip in how busy it was and you had a moment to relax.

“I just noticed that your customer service voice is the same as your regular voice.” Hongjoong said from the table closest to your counter. He had been coming in on his breaks to hang out and talk and well this was one of those times. “Is it? I never noticed.” You asked with a raised brow, Hongjoong shook his head at you. “I can’t believe your just genuinely that sweet.” He commented and went back to looking on his phone.

“Of course Y/N’s that sweet.” Yunho’s voice came in from behind you, knowing he came in through the back. His hands moved to your hips from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. “They even smell cake 90% of the time.” He added on before kissing your cheek. This earned a blush from you and a sigh coupled with an eyeroll from Hongjoong.

“Disgustingly cute.” Hongjoong grumbled, standing from his seat and grabbing his coffee. “I’ll be taking this to go.” He added, leaving your cafe to give you both a shred of privacy.

Laughing, you turned around in Yunho’s arm and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hi.” You said softly, toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. A few months in and you were incredibly close, ridiculously in love. The whole neighborhood knew, the whole neighborhood thought it was disgustingly cute and well you were incredibly happy.

“Hi.” He said back, leaning you backwards to press you against your counter. He had been missing you all day, all week more like. With the school breaks on top of general vacation days, business had been going quite well. But that also meant a little less time together. Which was alright, that was healthy but God Yunho was missing you.

He kissed your cheek, moving his lips over your skin lightly to pay you some special attention because there was no one in the cafe anyways and there was just something about getting you so flustered.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, taking a deep breath as his lips moved over your neck and down to the neckline of your dress. “When can I get you alone for more than 5 minutes?” Yunho asked, pulling his lips away from you again. He could tell you were breathing a little heavier and your cheeks were flushed, exactly what he wanted.

“I think I have more than 5 minutes of alone time after work.” You explained, only for his lips to find the base of your neck again. His hands were now massaging your sides, bunching up your dress slightly when the bell of your door rang.

“I forgot my phone and I’m glad I saw this so that I can leave a bad review on yelp.” Hongjoong said and you both pulled away from eachother quite quickly. “Come by the shop after you close up okay sunshine?” Yunho said, trying to hide his embarrassment as Hongjoong gave him a dirty look.

“I will.” You said, quickly pecking his lips one more time before he exited your shop. You were a total shade of pink because of the way Hongjoong was looking at you. “Don’t say anything.” You said, pointing your finger in his direction the second Yunho left. He started laughing, grabbing his phone from the table. “You two are so in love it’s disgusting. Get married already, have coffee filled, artsy babies.” He teased and you shook your head. “It seems like you two were half way there already, wonder what would’ve happened if I didn’t walk in.” He added and you turned away, suddenly feeling the need to keep your hands busy.

“Probably nothing, we haven’t gone that far. Doubt it would’ve happened in broad daylight, in an open café.” You said, now wiping down a fully clean counter to get out of your own mind. You wanted to take that next step with Yunho and he seemingly wanted to take that step too.

So you made your way over to his shop after closing, checking the way you looked in the reflection on the windows before entering. You weren’t nervous, at all actually. Everything felt certain with him and so did this. You instantly walked to studio portion of his shop, anticipation in your chest as you pushed the door open.

“Hey you closed early.” Yunho said as he cleaned his counter by the sink. “I did. Thought maybe we could stretch those 5 minutes into a few hours.” You said softly, walking behind him to hug him from behind. You missed him the last few days too, you were definitely realising it while holding him. “You can’t just kiss me like that in the middle of the day and leave.” You mumbled against him as his hands found your, drawing shapes into your skin with his fingers.

“Sorry about the inconvenience.” He chuckled and pulled you to stand in front of him, wedging you between him and the counter. “Big inconvenience. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You leaned back onto the counter as Yunho took a step forward. His thigh, wedging between your legs as he did so. He was completely hovering over you, hands finding purchase on your hips. “Maybe that’s what I wanted.” His voice was a tone lower than normal, making your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him close because you really couldn’t wait much longer and kissed him. Yunho loved it when he brought you to that point because he found it oh so endearing when you needed him so badly.

Using his hands, he lifted you up onto the counter fully making your dress bunch up slightly. His hands moved down to the newly exposed flesh of your thighs as his tongue slipped into your mouth. This, this was what drove him insane because everytime he kissed your lips you tasted so sweet.

You tugged his hair as his grip on you tightened, making him groan against your lips. “How do you do it, you always taste so sweet?” He asked with his forehead pressed against yours. You leaned forward a little, making your core come into contact with his denim clad thigh and you whimpered before answering him. “That’s for me to know and you to be amazed by.” Shaking his head at your answer, he pressed his lips to yours again absolutely not caring if it was sloppy or not.

He continued to pull your hips down, making your core rub over his thigh and you couldn’t help but pull his hair harshly. This made him nip down on your bottom lip before moving his hands to hike up the skirt of your dress. He was absolutely obsessed with how soft your skin was in his hands every new inch that was revealed, didn’t disappoint.

Moving his lips down your neck again, he made sure to nip down on your skin and making you gasp. Yunho was going with intent to leave marks, there was just something that made him compelled to do so. His hands moved to your waist to drag you closer to edge of the counter and closer to him. His fingertips finding the hem of your panties to toy with them, making heat pool between your legs even more.

His mouth stopped at the neckline of your dress, before he looked up at you. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging on your dress slightly. The little question making heat rise to your cheeks. “Yes, you can.” You answered softly, helping him lift the fabric off of your body. You were about to throw your dress to the side when took it from you, folding it before laying it down gently on a chair. You sat, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him because the action made your heart flutter.

“Don’t want your dress to get dirty.” He said, turning back around to look at you. He could feel his heart stop a moment, you were incredibly just so incredibly beautiful to him. The dim lit room, coupled with your slightly swollen lips, pink cheeks and the fact that you were sitting there in nothing but your underwear, it was driving him insane.

“God you look...” Yunho started, walking back to you to wrap his arms around your bare waist. You curled his hair between your fingers, looking him the eyes. “Absolutely beautiful.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, making your whole body fill with warmth as he looked at you. You wrapped your legs around him, to pull him even closer to you. “I’m feeling a little self conscious here. Can you maybe?” You didn’t finish your sentence, just tugging on his shirt in hopes he’d get the message. He pulled it off of him and simply threw it on the ground, not giving it the same care he gave your dress. “I don’t care if that gets dirty.” He said before kissing your lips quickly and sinking down to his knees.

Eye level with your core, he traced his fingers over your clothed slit slowly, looking at you to see your response. Your eyes were shut up and your lips were agape, body tensing as his finger grazed your clit. That was enough for him to hook his fingers into the lace, tugging your panties down your legs. You brought your hand to your face, taking your thumb between your teeth as Yunho pulled your legs over his shoulders.

He feathered kisses over your thighs, squeezing them as he did so and inching closer and closer to where you needed him. “You’re going to tease me when I’ve already been thinking about you all day?” You asked, voice muffled by your own hand. He looked up at you again, eyes darker and blinking at you. “Yes, because it seems to be working.” He answered, dragging his fingers over your slit. “You’re so wet, Sunshine.” He finished, kissing your clit lightly and your hips bucked for more friction.

He looked up at you one more time, taking a mental image of you with your finger caught between your teeth just staring at him before kissing you again. Allowing his tongue to move over your folds and tasting you. You attempted to clamp your legs shut at the sensation only for him to hold them open, not allowing you to go anywhere as he ate you out. Lips wrapping around your clit and making you moan out loud. Your hand moved to grip his hair, just wanting him even closer to you because fuck... he was making you feel so good.

“Yunho-” You moaned, making his fingertips dig further into your thighs. “Sunshine, you even taste sweet.” He commented, kissing your thighs again as you tugged on his hair for more. “Baby please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly pouting as you did so because you were oh so close to cumming.

He stood back up, face now level with yours again and you whined. “Relax.” He said softly, hand trailing down your body before cupping your core. His finger teased your hole while the other hand cupped your face, slipping a finger into and watching every expression as he did so. Yunho thrust his fingers into you harshly as your mouth fell open again. Eyes locked onto Yunho’s as he drew you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your fingers clawed at his arms as the coil in your stomach tightened. “Yunho, please.” You whined, feeling him insert another finger and stretching you out.

He sped up his pace, feeling you tighten around his fingers and the scratching down his arms get harder. “Come on, cum for me sunshine.” He pressed his forehead against yours as you let out a small scream that faded into a whine. The coil bursting as his fingers continued thrusting into you. Your face burried into his neck as you held onto him, needing something to brace yourself with.

He watched you slump into his arms, using his hand that was holding your face to now stroke your hair. “You’re alright.” He cooed, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his hardon pressing against his jeans. You kept your face in his neck as your hands moved from his arms down his chest and torso. Trailing down the faint outline of abs as your hands went down, resting on the button of his jeans as you finally looked at him again.

“I love you.” You said softly, as if it was a secret and you were in a crowded room. Your fingers undid his jeans, not waiting on a response from him. If he wasn’t there yet, he wasn’t there.

“Hey.” He cupped your face again, making your focus now be solely on him. You hardly gave him time to respond to your confession before you went undo his jeans, he needed you to focus on what he was going to say because he could tell you were scared for his answer.

“Relax, Sunshine. I love you too.” He said, taking in the way your eyes widened at his words. “I- I- can I?” You stuttered, gesturing to his jeans. “Yes, yes you can.” He laughed, continuing to cup your face as you undid his jeans and dragged the zipper down. He hummed as your fingers grazed his hard on, gripping your face a little tighter making you smile.

“Now who’s teasing?” He asked you and you giggled, only for him to shake his head. He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his jeans so that he could pull them down, together with his briefs. “Can’t deal with what you dish out?” You asked and he shook his head, placing his hand next to your hips on the counter. “Not nearly as well.” He admitted and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist to pull him against you.

His free hand gripped the base of his cock as he rubbed it over your folds. You held the back of his neck, watching his actions before he slipped into you slowly. Your nails dug into his skin, making goosebumps coat his skin as he sheathed himself into you fully. The whimper you let out of was like music to his ears and the way you felt wrapped around him was better than he dreamed of.

Yunho gave you a moment to adjust before wrapping his arms around your waist and almost picking you up off of the counter. It caught you by surprise making you hold onto him even tighter. “Fuck Yunho.” You hummed, as he started thrusting into you, using the leverage he had gotten from holding you. His pace picked up, fucking into you slowly as your sounds filled his studio.

“You feel so good, Sunshine.” He praised, a low moan leaving his mouth afterwards as you scratched down his back. He thrusted a bit harder and faster, needing a taste of that sweet release because he too had been thinking about you all day.

“Right there-” You choked out as he hit your sweet spot, the heels of your feet digging into his thighs. He pressed his face into your neck, placing kisses everywhere he could reach and sucking even more marks into your skin. He continued actions, making you tighten around him very quickly. He let go of your waist to place one of his hands by your side on the counter and the other down to rub your clit, giving him leverage to bring you both to the edge quickly. Your hands moved to his arms, scratching down them as well just adding to the pleasure he was going through.

“Sunshine, I’m really close.” He moaned out, hips staggering slightly as he continuously rubbed your clit. You pet his hair, drawing his attention back to your face and that was it for him. You looked oh so fucked out and the way you were holding on to him, it was enough to send him over the edge. His hips stopped as he came inside of you, head drooping and beautiful loud moans leaving him as he did so. However, his fingers never stopped circling your clit and threw you over the edge with him.

He was a mess, moaning at the feeling of you contracting around him and the overstimulation of it. The way you felt holding on to him, stroking his skin as you both calmed down. He was now holding you close against his chest, still resting inside you for a moment as you caught your breaths.

“I meant it you know, when I said I love you back.” Yunho’s voice was soft spoken as he pet your hair. “I know.” You said as you traced over his arm. “Good, just wanted to make sure you knew I didn’t just say it because we were having sex.” He explained, body leaving yours and making you sigh.

“I know I definitely didn’t just say it because of that.” You said as he handed you back your underwear. “That’s good.” He smiled at you that goofy smile, eyes filled with love. You shook your head, before grabbing his face gently and pulling him for another quick kiss. You just really wanted him to know that you meant it.

“Come on, let’s go to my place. Maybe watch a movie, eat dinner, have round 2. All of the options are allowed.” He said laughing before handing you your dress, as you rolled your eyes at his words.

“Ah Sunshine, I love you to bits.”

“The back of Yunho’s neck looks like he’s been mauled by a tiger, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that?” Hongjoong asked as he entered Yunho’s shop the next day. He had to run errands and asked you to watch his shop for a moment, so there you were sitting behind his counter and painting a piece of pottery you had helped him make not to long before.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, needing to bite on your lips to contain your smile as you continued to paint the clay. “Uh-huh, tell that to those hickies all over your neck.” He commented and you looked at him. “Do you ever spend time in your own store?” You asked in frustration and he started laughing, pointing at you. “I knew it!” He laughed and you shook your head. “Okay, okay. Shut up about it.” You hid your face in your hands, feeling how beat red you were.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing.” Hongjoong joked, walking around the shelves of pottery. No one else was in the shop, so the conversation wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “But it was good though? No hiccups, no awkward situations?” He asked and you could only smile at the thought of it all. “No, nothing awkward.” You said and he stood in front of the counter again.

“I told him I love him for the first time.” You added quickly, simply going back to painting. “Wait, you did? For the first time? It took you both that long?” Admittedly Hongjoong wasn’t wrong, but you had felt love for him a long time ago. There just wasn’t a desire to vocalize it just yet, on either end. “I mean it was obvious that you too loved eachother, I’m just surprised it took you so long to say it.” Hongjoong explained and you nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But sometimes it’s better to just wait until there’s that moment. That perfect moment to say it.” Last night was most definitely that moment for you.

The store bell made you both redirect your attention to the door. Only for Yunho to pop his head in and look at you. “I was half way to the store when I realised that I didn’t ask you needed anything.” He said, smiling at you with stars in his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.” You smiled back as Hongjoong watched the interaction. “I could’ve, but I would rather just walk back and see you instead.” He explained and Hongjoong laughed.

“You two, you two are something else.” Hongjoong commented and Yunho shook his head. “But you don’t need anything?” He asked and you shook your head. “No, I got all I need.” You said and he nodded before going to leave again. “I love you, Sunshine.” He said quickly, shutting the door behind him. “I love you too.” You said smiling, knowing he couldn’t hear you anymore but still taking the time to do it. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at you and opened his mouth to say something.

“As disgusting as you two are, how cute you are together makes up for it.”

A/N: Feedback is kind!

I’m not completely satisfied with the ending but I still like this story alot. Sometimes you just need some happy stories. I hope you guys enjoy!

#yunho #yunho smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez reaction

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sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before.

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Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine.

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny.

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature.

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather.

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache.

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals.

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.”

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness.

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal.

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon.

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant.

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home.

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At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last.

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was.

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke.

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness.

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber.

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Lunch break at last.

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest.

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course.

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible.

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty.

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them.

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance.

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“Babe, dinner is ready!”

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten.

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister.

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain.

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple.

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for.

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially.

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more.

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.”

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.”

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed.

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you.

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture.

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips.

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?”

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else.

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair.

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made.

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair.

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy.

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor.

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand.

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison.

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help.

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages.

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look.

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you.

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own.

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same.

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis.

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk.

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague.

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat.

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes.

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on.

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose.

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer.

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak.

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions.

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.”

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure.

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room.

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve.

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!”

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.”

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.”

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued.

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face.

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand.

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze.

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.”

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him.

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.”

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!”

He really was too good for this world.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #doctor steve rogers #doctor steve rogers x wife reader

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ghostwriteyes · 3 years

Text

Years Past

Sasusaku (Naruto) Fic. I don’t own the characters. They’re owned by Kishimoto

Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Neighbors AU, Non-Massacre AU

3,321 words

6 years old

They had a new neighbor coming. It’s been a while since the house across from them has been empty and now there are big moving trucks around the house. He peeked through the window and was disappointed because he didn’t see a boy his age, but a girl. He’s heard of cooties and he didn’t want them.

On the weekend, his mother invited the new neighbor to have dinner. He went with his mother to greet them at the door. He saw the pink haired girl hiding behind her mother, only peeking to see his mother. Her mother said something about she's shy and she was bullied in their last neighborhood.

“Hey Sakura. Your name is Sakura right? You have such wonderful hair” said his mother.

Then, the girl stepped a bit closer and the widest, greenest eyes he’s ever seen looked up to his mother and gave a firm nod and said “You’re very pretty”. His mother laughed and guided them in.

They had dinner that night, the 7 of them, and he didn’t know why he kept looking at those green eyes. He thought he wouldn’t really mind getting cooties.

12 years old

She was working on her homework in the living room, this damn physics homework that Kakashi-sensei gave last minute for Monday. She thought Sasuke might have finished already and thought of going to his house when her mother called,

“Sakura, come to the kitchen for a bit please”

“What is it, mom?”

“I baked too many cookies for my exhibition tonight. Can you give this bowl to Mikoto’s house?”

“Oh sure, was gonna go there anyway to ask Sasuke about my homework. We keep some too, right?”

“Of course honey”

She went across and brought her notebook with her and knocked on the door. When it opened, it was Sasuke.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“My mom baked too many cookies and wanted to give it to Aunt Mikoto.”

He grabbed the plate and muttered thanks and almost closed the door-

“Wait!” she brought her best puppy eyes, looking hopeful “I also wanted to ask about the physics homework” she lifted her notebooks in front of her face to emphasize.

After a sigh and a fine, he opened the door wider and she went in. “Where’s everyone else?” She looked around for people and saw no one. “Out.” She chuckled “Always the sociable one” he rolled his eyes to that.

They went to his room and worked on the physics homework on the small coffee table in his room. He taught her the questions she couldn’t answer.

When they were finished, she couldn’t help but say what she’s been thinking,

“Do you think we’re being too casual?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know- you’re a boy, i’m a girl, we’re in your room” she chuckled.

He rolled his eyes and smirked “would you rather be in my brother’s room” he knew about how she admired his brother.

“Ugh, you know I only admire him. It’s never anything like that” her elbows on the table and she rested her head on her hand and thought out loud “I think I’ve grown out of it though” their eyes met. There’s this look in his eyes and they stayed like that for a while just looking at each other.

She broke it with “especially since shisui’s been here more often” she rolled her eyes “they’re insufferable”. He chuckled. Then, his door suddenly opened,

“Sasuke, where did these cookies co- oh, Sakura! I heard your mom and dad are out for her exhibition tonight. Have dinner with us?”

“Sure, aunt Mikoto”

“Great! I’ll cook your favorites” she stayed for a while looking at the two just grown kids and frowned “Should I be worried?”

Sasuke raised his eyebrows and asked “what do you mean mom?”

“You’re a guy and a girl in a room.. should I-”

He groaned, “Stop mom, it’s nothing like that”

Sakura just chuckled and couldn’t help but notice the disappointment she felt. She tried not to think too much of it.

She didn’t notice Sasuke’s eyes who kept glancing her way during dinner.

15 years old

He heard whispers in the kitchen. Not unusual as his mother and father are the calm and quiet type, but this time there’s some wariness in their voice.

He was going to go to Sakura’s house to check why she wasn’t in school, but went to the kitchen first anyway. His parents immediately noticed and his father said,

“Sasuke, get ready. We’re going to go to the hospital.” Their faces showed that this wasn’t good news.

“What’s wrong?” His minds are racing

His mother was the one who answered, “Uncle Kizashi.. he was in an accident this morning and.. it’s not looking good”

Always the one-tracked mind, he didn’t say a word and ran to his bike to go to the hospital. He went ahead and as he arrived, his eyes immediately found Sakura alone near one of the rooms, eyes red and puffy.

He went closer, in a hurry, and fuck she’s been crying and she noticed him and she immediately went to him and reached him and she just let it all out, hands around his waist and head on his chest. His arms circled her, his cheek on her hair and they just stayed there.

After she was a bit calmer she realized that they were hugging. She felt awkward and let go, eyes averting his. She could blame the red face from crying hours on end.

“How is he?” his hands on her shoulders and he wanted her to look at him and he leaned closer.

She sniffled and said “His condition’s already stable, but… he’s not waking up” she teared up again and her hands went up to dry it off “I don’t know what to do, Sasuke”, for the first time that night she looked at him when his mother and father arrived,

“Oh, Sakura” his mother went to hug Sakura and his father knocked on the hospital door.

He noticed that Aunt Mebuki had been crying too and for the first time he also didn’t know what to do. No loud laughs and corny jokes, it was terrible.

He stayed with Sakura while the adults were talking and when they were about to leave, Aunt Mebuki said that Sakura should also go home and rest. After a few minutes of i’m staying, mom and i’m not leaving his side mom, no way, they were finally able to convince her to go home.

He went home alone on his bike while Sakura was with his parents. Later, he waited on her sidewalk. After they arrived, he shared a look with his mom and his mom nodded as if saying do what you need to do.

That night, Sasuke took care of Sakura. He made sure she ate (sakura, don’t be annoying, you have to eat) and left after she was already asleep (i’m here sakura, just rest, okay.)

——-

The next morning, he and his parents were having breakfast when suddenly, his mom said, “Sakura is really pretty, right Sasuke?”

Sasuke looked at his mother and why does it sound like she’s teasing me and he scrunched his eyebrows and looked at her weirdly.

“She’s intelligent, top of her class, very pretty, I heard she’s popular with the boys in school too-,” he frowned “-and she seems like a great daughter, right Fugaku?”

“Yes, she is. What are you doing Mikoto?”

Mikoto chuckled and said, “No, no, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking that Sasuke and Sakura’s wedding should be in winter so that Sakura can stand out”

He choked on his cereal and said, “Mother.” he looked at her teasing smile and narrowed his eyebrows, “Her father has just been in an accident, Mother”

She frowned and said, “I know.. I hope Kizashi can wake up soon so he can give her away on the wedding”

He looked to his father for some sanity only to see his father agreeing to what his mother’s saying. He stood up and left to go to school. Just when he was at the door he heard his mother shout “Say hi to Sakura for me” and he groaned.

——-

At school during lunch, he can’t help but glare at every boy who went to Sakura’s side. Naruto teased him, “you’re such a coward, Sasuke. All those glares, but no confession”, shook his head, “y’know, maybe I should have a go with Sakura instead”, teasing with his big grin and his wiggled eyebrows.

Naruto went home with a bruise on his arm that day.

18 years old

“God, I can’t believe graduation’s coming and you’re still single, Forehead”

“Shut up, pig.”

They were in Sakura’s room fiddling around with makeup and their dresses to wear to prom that weekend. She was just trying out her shoes when she saw Ino’s teasing smile and saw what was coming,

“Well, it’s not like there’s no one, right Sakura?” Ino sighed, “why is he not doing anything, you guys are clearly acting like you’re going out, but, just without the label” she rolled her eyes.

Sakura shook her head and said, “It’s nothing like that Ino, we’re just really close.”

“Nuh-uh, remember last week at lunch. That lanky boy was definitely gonna ask you out to prom but Sasuke glared at him from behind you and the boy ran away”, she chuckled, “Sasuke’s gonna be one scary boyfriend”

Sakura laughed, “Mmm I think that’s just him being protective, you know how he is with me, we’re childhood friends”

Ino sighed again, “Fine, whatever. But everyone can feel this tension between you guys, with the staring and all, it’s ridiculous, and it��s clearly not you two being” she finger quoted “just really close, or” she finger quoted again “just childhood friends”.

Sakura laid on her bed and sighed, “You know how I feel, Ino. but, with him you can’t really tell, you know. and our friendship is too valuable anyway.”

Ino shook her head dramatically “Oh, the most cliched reason for a coward”. Sakura threw her pillow at Ino while she was wearing lipstick and oh no, you didn’t and she lunged towards Sakura with lipstick on her hand.

——-

“Sasuke, you going to prom this weekend?”

His brother, Shisui, and some of his brother’s friends are hanging out at their study room turned game room. He just nodded at shisui’s question, barely looking at him, staring at the TV with Sasori beating Itachi in their game.

“You taking Sakura?” Sasuke muttered no and it’s none of your business. He was going to leave the room. But then he heard Sasori say “oooh, Sakura’s that hot chick across your house, right Itachi? Is she single?”

Sasuke glared and said “Itachi, let me play.”

After beating Sasori three times, he said nothing and left the room. Itachi and Shisui laughed and shook their heads and you just woke up the devil, Sasori. Sasori learnt that Sakura was definitely not single.

——-

That weekend, they were having breakfast together. Ever since Kizashi’s accident, Mikoto would sometimes invite Mebuki and Sakura for breakfast or dinner. He was still in a coma in the hospital and Mikoto just couldn’t help but reach out to them.

“Sakura, you’re going to go to prom tonight right? Are you going to go with Sasuke?”

Sakura casually said “Yeah, of course,”

and Sasuke choked and tried to remember, did I ask her and forget, dammit dammit dammit.

“-We’re going together with our friends. Since there’s two of us here, our friends are gonna come to our houses to get ready”

he sighed internally and thought of how stupid he was and why did I panic and felt a pang in his chest wishing that they were going together together.

“Are you okay Sasuke?” his mother asked and he just nodded, barely looking at everyone else. He was always one to keep his straight face.

——-

That night he went to her house, along with Naruto, Sai, and Neji and his eyes widen as he saw her walk down the stairs and she’s so fucking pretty and he wished they were going together together and maybe I can just ask her now and maybe they can-

“My pretty daughter” Aunt Mebuki clasped her hands with some teary eyes “-I just wish your father can see you tonight,” Sakura smiled but he knew that smile and he just wanted to hug her and maybe I can and-

“Let’s take pictures!” fuck.

After some pictures were taken they went on their limo to prom and he just couldn’t, he really tried, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He didn’t really care anymore if anyone noticed. He didn’t care if she noticed cause she’s just so beautiful. He caught her eye and her eyebrows raised, questioning, and he just smiled. She blushed and averted her eyes and she’s so pretty.

——-

Later that night, they were the last to be dropped off. He noticed that she was quiet all the way home and he was quiet too and it felt like there’s this thing between them ever since their dance and any wrong word can just break it and he didn’t want that. He noticed her glancing his way and he wanted to ask but he didn’t know how and the limousine stopped.

He walked her to her door and he just stared at her and she stared back and he wanted to say something, anything-

“thanks, sasuke”, she averted her eyes and turned around and almost walked to the door, but then his body moved on its own, and his hand caught her wrist and she turned back and their eyes met and-

“Sakura, I-” he pulled her closer and muttered fuck, i’m not good with words and he leaned closer and he stared more at those eyes, those beautiful, beautiful eyes, his hand travelled to her neck and finally, finally, their lips met.

It started softly, hesitantly, chastely, and in seconds, she kissed him back, her arms around his neck, and he grew more confident and his hand curled around her neck, he pulled her in and he kissed her deeper.

They parted for air with their foreheads touching, his thumb stroking his cheek, “You’re so beautiful,” she blushed and she didn’t know what to say and just bit her lip, his eyes flickered to her lips and he groaned and then his body moved on its own again and their lips met for the second time that night.

They didn’t notice three pairs of eyes across the house peeking through the window, “Well, Mebuki, we should start planning that winter wedding”

20 years old

It was summer and they were back at home from college and their mothers have been more strict about them being in the bedroom together ever since they started dating, so they were in the living room of his house, watching a movie.

Their relationship felt like a breeze and Sakura was just so happy and Sasuke was, I can’t believe I didn’t confess sooner and when their friends found out they were all saying finally, free of the tension and the eyesmex.

They had fights like all relationships do but Sasuke just couldn’t stay away for too long and Sakura would always be forgiving.

They were going to have dinner at Sasuke’s house, but when Mebuki came, she was teary eyed and she didn’t speak for a while, and

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Sakura went to her mom and she panicked.

“Your dad.. He woke up.”

Sasuke said I’ll go with Sakura and they all went to the hospital.

They arrived first and went straight to his room and Sasuke didn’t want to intrude so he stayed outside.

“Sakura, is that you?” and she ran to him and hugged him so tightly and she didn’t want to let go. Five years, finally.

“Sakura, you’re all grown up.”

She recounted, the best she can do, of everything that’s happened. Mebuki arrived and they hugged, three of them, reunited. After a while, “Why did Sakura arrive first? Are you driving yet? Damn, I can’t believe I missed teaching you how to drive” Mebuki laughed and said “No, she went with her boyfriend”. Sakura groaned, embarrassed.

“Wait, is she and Sasuke finally going out? I have to hear this story, they were so oblivious” Loud laughs fill the room and Sakura didn’t care about any of the teasing and she just felt grateful that her dad’s back and that’s all she can think of.

——-

Later in the month, Kizashi was released from the hospital and they all planned a trip to the Uchiha Family cabin near the mountains to have a good rest with the hot springs and all. There were two separate cabins and Kizashi said one for the grownups, one for the kids- what Mebuki, let them have fun, we were young once. So Sasuke and Sakura were with Itachi and Izumi, his wife, and Shisui came just because he couldn’t miss out.

Everyone wanted to go to the hot springs, but Sasuke and Sakura said no, we’ll just play or hike or something and so they stayed in the “kids” cabin and they do have separate bedrooms but-

“Sakura, come” he took her hands,

“What is it, Sasuke”

“Just come here”

She followed him to his bedroom, and when they were in, he closed and locked the door and he pushed her against it and they just stared at each other and smiled. She broke the silence,

“Mm, don’t you think we’re being too casual, Sasuke?”

“What?”

She bit her lip, she knows what it does to him, and smiled teasingly, “I don’t know- you’re a boy, I’m a girl, we’re in your room-”

He groaned, “Shut up Sakura” and he kissed her.

25 years old

It was winter.

Aunt Mikoto, her mom, and Ino have been preparing everything. Those three have been inseparable since the day she said yes and Sakura could only agree to everything cause she didn’t care about parties.

She remembered how Sasuke would just laugh whenever she ranted to him on how big and complicated this party will be.

She looked in the mirror with her white dress on, and she couldn’t believe how far they’ve come.

——-

He looked in the mirror, fixed his neck tie, and looked again in the mirror, and fixed his wrist button, and this is nerve wracking and i’m gonna mess up and-

“Sasuke, sit doown, relaaax” and he just glared at Shisui and Naruto laughed and said, “you believe me now, huh, when it was my wedding you said I was overreacting”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and he said, “Naruto, you almost climbed down the window”

Naruto laughed and middle finger-ed him and, “whatever, at least you know how I felt now”

Itachi was the only calm one in the room as he said “don’t worry too much Sasuke, you’ll feel better when you see her, look forward to that”

Sasuke closed his eyes and took deep breaths and just imagined her and her white dress and how pretty she will be.

——-

He waited in the altar and looked to the door and saw the most beautiful girl and i’m so lucky and he couldn’t believe it sometimes and as she went closer their eyes met and she arrived at the altar and they just stared at each other and they forgot what they were supposed to be doing and Ino cleared her throat and Kizashi just laughed and Fugaku shook his head with a smile and Mebuki and Mikoto were all teary eyed and then they got married.

–

57 notes · View notes

cleololax · 3 years

Text

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fake texts #namjoon #Jungkook #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #taehyung #bantansonyeondan

71 notes · View notes

kkusuka · 4 years

Text

Introductions <3

i literally could not shake this from my mind, and i got ever so slighly carried away.

Fem. reader <3

Relationship: Rumi Usagiyama (Miruko), Keigo Takami (hawks) Kai Chisaki (Overhaul) Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Kurono Hari x Reader

word count: 4.6k

CW: You and Rumi are dating, mommy kink, slight druging, shiggy calles you pet, breeding, double penn. squirting, FxF, soft miruko, too many creampies, Photography, cum eating, I think that’s it??

let me know what you want to see next <33

It was official, you and Rumi had been dating for a whole nine months! It was so amazing, Rumi seemed to really like you, something you had absolutely not expected when you confessed to her.

You had known that she had some questionable friends but Rumi never kept you around them for too long, just some spared glances and tight smiles. But that brought you to now, where you were currently making sure everything was perfect to finally officially meet her friends!

You had baked brownies and checked your hair in the mirror at least 100 times, you were just so nervous, you knew first impressions were everything. You tried to cover all of the marks, you practiced your smile in the mirror, you made it as friendly as possible. You wore Rumi’s favorite skirt, it was baby pink and “totally adorable” according to your girlfriend, and a light pink cardigan with a white t-shirt underneath. But what you think made the outfit was the white thigh-highs that adorned your legs, and the little bows on the front.

Everything was perfect, you were ready!

ఌ

“If any of you hurt her, I’ll kill you” Right now Rumi regretted ever being friends with these people. Well, she mostly regretted that they got her revved up enough to make that stupid bet with Keigo. She would have gladly just introduced them to you but this whole “initiation” bullshit was taking it too far.

“I'm hurt you would even think I’d do anything to your precious Bunny!” Keigo mocked, he knew what he was doing, they all did. You had every single one of them wrapped around your finger and you didn't even know it.

“Let’s just hurry up, don’t wanna leave lover girl waiting.” Dabi. “Jeez Tou, I didn't think you would be so excited to see ‘er”

In character, Touya rolled his eyes and looked away, he wouldn't admit he had been wanting to “meet” for a while now. If the sock under his bed had anything to say about it. The rest of the walk to your house was filled with scattered comments about scenery, Shigaraki’s constant complaints and, Kai and Kurono’s mindless chatter.

Entering a fairly nice neighborhood about 15 minutes from the school, Rumi declared they had arrived in front of a nice-looking traditional house. “I am going to say this one more time. You will not hurt her, do not say anything weird, and what’s about to happen will never happen again”

“Yeah whatever, just knock on the door” rolling her eyes Rumi did just that. And within the second the door swung open and a puff of light pink jumped out at their friend. “Umi, you're here!” you were smiling like the sun at your girlfriend.

“Yeah Bunny we’re here and don’t you look all dolled up” Gross, the two of you looked like you were about to eat each other's faces.

“Oh! Yes! Um- Come in, we can go, um, to the family room and watch movies! O-only if you want to though, w-we can do other things too, i-if you want” you had managed to stutter out before Rumi guided you into the house before you could say anything more embarrassing, “that sounds great Baby, let's go” shooting the boys a pointed look, a warning, they followed the two of you through the house.

You were practically shaking and you didn't know if it was from excitement or nerves, but whatever it was, you would have to get over it somehow. Just like you expected, they were scary. Each of them practically towers over you, and even if they didn't, they all had the most intimidating aura you’ve ever felt.

After getting settled, and answering Kai’s questions about cleanliness, you made the best attempt at an introduction you could; “Um, hello I’m (f/n) (l/n). It’s really really nice to meet you guys!” really really? Great now you sound like an idiot. And they probably think the chuckles around the room said anything.

You were broken out of your hand by a hand grabbing yours, and a voice speaking up awfully close to your ear, “Aw baby bird you are just too cute! Keigo Takami at your service now and always” the voice purred, he was, so close. You could smell his cologne like it was straight from the bottle. To say that you were beet red was a true understatement. When you were about to try and stutter something out, two hands grabbed your waist and pulled you into another hard chest.

And before you knew it a head was in the crook of your neck, “Stop it bird brain you're probably scaring the poor little girl. No worries Little mouse, Touya’s got you now” with this new angle you could see Keigo better, and blonde hair and was he wearing eyeliner? But mostly, he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. Which in turn made you even redder. But your staring contest with the man was cut short when you were pushed into someone's lap.

“Tomura Shigaraki” was quickly muttered, “Shigaraki” not even looking at you before placing you next to him on the couch. You took the opportunity to look at Touya, dark spiked hair and piercing blue eyes, if he didn't have the scars you would have believed he walked straight out of a magazine. Tomura, still not looking at you, had curled into himself, immediately making you feel bad, for what? You had no clue. So, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke whatever came to mind, “Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you right?”

This seemed to have the opposite effect on the teenage boy because he had curled further into himself but managed to stutter out a no. You were about to apologize, thinking you had injured the poor boy somehow when a gloved hand encased yours, lightly detaching it from the other boy. Following the gloved hand to an arm, with a rolled-up long-sleeve button-up shirt, to a neck with a tie neatly resting on his chest, to a masked face and golden eyes.

“You're really pretty.” Oh god. You-you said that out loud to his face. You had to apologize-” I mean, your lower lashes are perfect.” That is not what you meant to say, he was going to kill you, Rumi was going to kill you. Instead of wiping you from existence, like you knew he probably could, he just raised a brow whilst everyone else in the room busted into laughter.

“Thank you, Angel, But my name is Kai Chisaki.” He had a pretty voice too, god you needed to stop thinking like right now. And now a new round of laughter had begun, “I said that aloud didn’t I? God, I’m sorry, you probably rhino I’m weird, I’m really sorry” You were embarrassed if you could call it that, you were practically melting.

You were panicking, they don't like you anymore, they were laughing at you, you were putting Umi to shame, and now you're going to break up and- “Bunny. Bunny it’s ok, you are just being too cute right now. All I need to know is that you still think I’m the cutest” Rumi still liked you, and you must have missed the transition into her lap, where you were now located. “Of course you’re still the cutest Umi, am I still the cutest?”

“Always baby, now you’ve got one more person to meet, bee a good bunny for me now, ok?” Shifting you in her lap you faced the last of the group, a boy next to Chi (your new nickname for him). He was pretty too- you just didn't blurt it out this time, instead, you waved. He reacted with a light chuckle, it was pretty too, and telling you his name was Kurono Hari.

“Alright, now that that’s over with,” Touya reached in his bag and pulled out two bottles of vodka, “let's get this initiation started”

ఌ

The room was spinning. You could hear the boys and Rumi laughing but you were too buzzed to listen. More importantly, you felt hot, specifically down there. You had felt this before, you knew it. Oh! It was when you and Umi-Umi were alone in your bedroom! She made it go away then, that meant she could make it go away now!

You managed to get yourself up from whoever's lap you were sitting on, Tomura if you were to guess from the whine when you moved his arm. Standing up was a slight challenge, your legs shaking and you almost let out a moan. Placing down your cup on the coffee table that was covered in beer cans and plastic cups, you didn't even realize that everyone in the room had shifted their focus to you.

Stumbling over to your girlfriend you fell into her lap and nuzzled yourself into a straddle position so you were face to face. Within the second Rumi began to rub little circles into your hip, making you even hotter. “What’s the matter bunny? Is something wrong?” She was such a good girlfriend, always looking out for you, she would surely help you, you just knew it.

“Umi-Umi I feel hot. Like the time in my room? Do you remember that? When my parents weren’t home and you made the ache go away? Places, please do it again! I feel so so hot.” You began to ramble continuing until Tomura, said something that sounded funny to you (well everything sounded funny right now) “I told you it would work, you just had to give it some time”

What needed time to work? As quick as you could you look back to Rumi, she seemed to know exactly what you wanted to know, she shifted a bit under you and began, ‘Alright bunny listen to me, ok baby focus on me. God, you look so pretty, ok? Listen, they wanted to try something with you, you’ll like it I promise, Mommy will be with you all the way, but Mommy lost a bet to her stupid friends and she is very sorry, but they won’t do anything you don't like, Ok? Tell Mommy how you feel.” Lost a bet? What did they want? They seemed nice, it wouldn't be that bad, and you had to make Rumi proud, you were being so good and you had to keep that up!

“Yes”

“Yes what, Bunny.”

“Yes Mommy, I'll be oh so very good for everyone!” That made her happy! She was proud of you! But the two of you were snapped out of your little bubble when Keigo, you think it’s Keigo, began to chuckle, “Mommy, really?” Yes, that was Keigo.

“Shut it chicken wing or you won't get to go.” well Mi-Mi sure knew how to shut him up, and Touya who was laughing along with him shit up too, which made you giggle. By pattern, it made all their attention turn back to you.

“Well strip her now, we don't have the rest of eternity!” Tomura impatiently shouted out. Strip that seemed fun!

“Shut it crusty,” As soon as the bitter remark left her lips, Rumi turned to you, softening to ask if you needed her help to get out of your skirt. No! You would do it yourself like a big girl. Well, that was until you couldn't figure how to undo the buttons, yeah maybe you did need her help after all. And she knew that waving you over with her pointer finger, she giggled and pulled you into a spot where she could undo the button.

You did manage to take your blouse, white shirt, and bra off by yourself, instinctively turning to Rumi, and she looked so proud of you! That means you were being good! But when you turned back to the boys, they looked like they wanted to eat you, but it didn't scare you like you thought it would, in fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect, sending jolts of heat down to your core.

Next, you want to take off your thigh highs being almost immediately stopped by a voice “No little mouse, you're keeping those on.”

“Yes sir” whoa, (y/n) where did that come from, but it didn't matter because Touya seemed to like it, and that made you happy.

“Calm down, I’m still going first, you still have to wait your turn, Angel? Come here.” Kai’s beautiful voice called, shifting your attention to the other side of the room to the couch where he currently sat with Hair (he insisted you call him that, so you just began to call everyone by their first name). As much as you wanted to obey the command immediately, you had to ask Rumi for permission, as a good bunny does. But before you even opened your mouth, as she does, Umi read your mind. “Go bunny listen to him” and that you did.

While walking to him, Kai unhooked the mask that sat on his face, placed it to his side, and eyed you, it felt like he was burning holes through you. You stopped right before him and he motioned for you to kneel before him, like a real king! Cutting you from your thought was Kai’s smooth voice asking if you’ve ever taken a cock in your little hole before.

The answer was no. Rumi was your first girlfriend and well, she was a girl. As you let him know just that! He retired your statement with a small smirk and a hand on your cheek, which you leaned into. “Alright Angel, can you tell me how many fingers you've ever had in your little pussy? And call me Sir or Master, it's respectful” You were going to melt if he kept this up.

“O-only four, Sir'' you couldn't look away from him, or how perfect his eyebrow looked when he raised it in question. “Oh? And how many up your ass?” while asking his thumb had reached your lips pulling on the bottom one, “No-no fingers sir, b-but sometimes I put a “plug” thingy that looks like a bunny tail in for Rumi, and don’t tell her I told you but sometimes a take it and do it without her knowing, but you can’t tell her I said that.”

That seems to do the trick, before he spoke he reached down and grabbed you by the waist and lifted you onto his lap, then spoke “Your secret is safe with me angel, now can you do me a favor? I need you to unzip the zipper on my pants and pull my boxers down, ok?” You could do that, and so you did!

After pulling it down, you saw his...thing. It was standing tall, and the tip was oozing white liquid, were they all this big? “Is that going in me? I-i don't think it’ll fit.” that gained more than a few laughs, “Oh it’ll fit, Angel. Now-” he placed a gloved hand on your panties, and both the glove and your panties disappeared, but his glove returned a second later.

All of them were looking at your lower lips, you could feel it, someone (Tomura, you think) had even let out a moan, “Well angel, it looks like you're already wet enough, so we’ll get right to it. can you please take my cock and line it up with your hole?” He sounded so soft and gentle, you just couldn't ignore it, you didn't think you could speak, deciding to just nod instead. But Kai didn't seem to like that. “Answer me, Angel, can you?” placing five fingers on your hip, just as a reminder to do as he asks. “Yes Master, I can.” That made it all better, but he did move his other hand onto your other hip, caging you in.

Doing as he said you took his cock in your hand and tried to line up the tip with your hole as perfectly as you possibly could, following his next command seemed a bit more challenging, “I want you to sink all the way down ok? Your clit should touch my hip, Yes Angel?” After your respectful response, you tried to get it in, and it didn't work! No, no, no! You were doing so well and now this?

At this point you were on the verge of tears, it just won't go in. “Bunny dear, let Mommy help you out, Ok? You’re doing so well ok?” Umi! She grasped Kais cock and moved under you to get a better view of your pink lips. She spread them out and began to press you down onto him. Just like magic, she made Kai’s cock go in! She let go when the tip was fully embraced by your gummy walls. “You gotta do all the rest honey.” and just like that, she moved back to her chair.

Deciding you needed something to hold onto, you looked towards Hari, “Can I hold your hand please?” He just looked at you before offering his hand to you, you're sure you heard someone “awing” on the other side of the room but you were too focused on sinking down Kai’s dick.

When you finally had all of him nestled in your insides, just how he commanded, you looked your head back and let the loudest moan, probably ever, out. Kai didn’t even seem to notice, he was busy being entranced by the images of where the two of you were connected. You did however pick up on the conversation that was happening between the two boys on the other couch.

“Yo, Shig, you got that right, please tell me you have that”

“I got to agree with Birdbrain here, please tell me you're still recording”

“Jeez, yes yes, I got it I got it”

“Eye’s back on me Angel. I’m going to move now.” and doing that he did, lifting you all the way to his tip, he let you drop onto him, extracting a tight gasp from you. It. was. Bliss! Over and over again he bounced you on his cock, until you were bouncing on your own like a madwoman, gaining whistles and praises from the other men in the room.

“Say how good you feel Angel, tell me how much you like getting fucked so well in front of your Mommy and her friends like a street whore, tell your Master how good he’s making you feel, go on, say your a street whore beg to cum..” Kai all bit growled at you, you couldn't ignore the command if you tried. “S-so-so, good Master. I’m a good street whore, a-and I like being fucked, and I-i've been so good please let me cum-please, please” after that you began to blubber out whatever you possibly could. Plea’s for him to let you cum, begging for your Mommy to let you cum, and seconds later Kai gave you the go-ahead and you wasted no time, immediately seeing stars.

Coming down from your high, you realized two things. One; Kai was still hard, ready, and in you. Two; Hari was now behind you on the couch spreading your ass and rubbing small circles around your tightest hole. “W-wait, it won't go in!” Soft chuckles were the only response you got to the exclamation. Ever so slowly Hari thrusts a finger into your hole, then another, and began to scissor them in an attempt to stretch you a bit.

“Are you alright Angel? Be honest.” Kai commanded.

“It-it hurts a bit.”

“Ok, I’ll make you feel better.” With that he began rubbing small, calculated circles around your clit, which did ease the pain of Hari beginning to put his tip in. it took about two more minutes for you to be completely filled with both their cocks. You felt so amazingly stretched out, they filled you so well.

It became even more overwhelming when they began to time their thrusts. When Kai pushed in you Hari pulled out, making sure one cock was always hitting one of your sweet spots, and they did it well. And they clearly knew it from the way you would moan with every thrust.

“You sound so pretty Baby, do we really make you feel that good?” Hari cooed in your ear, reaching around to circle your nipples, when Kai added in a quick “You clench every time we got a sweet spot Angel, you're being so good for us.”

As their orgasms approached the thrusts got slightly erratic, and they lost their perfect timing, which made you fall over the edge, entering your second orgasm of the night.

As you spasmed on their cocks they began to fill you with spurts of white, filling you up with their cum.

Basking in your post-orgasmic glow, you didn't even realize you had been moved to where Tomura was sitting. He already had you on your back, legs spread, displaying both of your holes to him.

Not saying a word he took out his cock and slammed it into your used hole but because of your sensitivity, it had hurt just a bit. Making your discomfort known, you whined and tried to bend your legs away from his grasp. Pushing your legs back open he ignored Rumi's yelling about letting go because he was hurting you.

“If you can do it for those assholes, you can be a good breeding cow for me too, understand?” he didn't even wait for you to answer, he just began to pound into you like a mad man.

He was grunting and growling, pushing you into the mating press, only to stop and completely pull out, garnering a whine from you. He shut you up by pushing two fingers inside your weaving hole and scooping cum out and bringing them to your face.

“Open” he commanded, following the order he shoved his cum-covered fingers wiping them over your tongue, “keep your mouth open and don’t swallow. Be a good pet and let me breed you.”

You never thought Toumra would be so commanding during sex, but right now the only thing you could think of was his cock hitting your g-spot over and over bringing your orgasm rapidly closer.

“To-Tomura, please so so close, let me cum, need it so badly please” is what you wanted to say, but considering the mouthful of cum you had and the fact that you couldn't even think past his cock, all that came out were blabs of pleases and cries of pleasure.

He was close, you could feel it in his thrusts. Reacting to your desperate attempt begging to cum tomura laughed, “You can cum when I cum pet. Just a little longer and you’ll be filled again, just be patient.”

You were crying at that point, you were so so close, and then finally! You felt his specks of cum in your womb! Finally, you could cum, but there was something different about this one, it felt bigger. You didn't know what it meant until your world turned black.

Coming back everyone in the room was staring straight at you like you had grown a second head. You were confused until Touya yelled.

“Usagiyama! You didn’t tell us she could fucking squirt! And the shithead of all people made her do it!”

While he was speaking, he came over and grabbed you and impaled you on his aching cock. “You're gonna do that again, Ok? I don't care if I have to fuck you for hours.”

“No, Touya, you're going to be nice to her” Rumi growled back at the Black haired boy. Earning a glare from him in response.

At that point, you were too fucked out to do anything other than subconsciously bouncing on Touya’s cock earning a laugh from him. “Look! Look! She’s already bouncing and I haven't even done anything yet, damn Rumi you've been dating a cockwhore this entire time” the insult gave you the motivation you make this the best sex Touya will ever receive!

And you did, placing your hands on his shoulders you used them as leverage to bounce harder, at some point he had shoved his head into your breasts and began to shake his head in between them. Biting at some points to conceal his moans.

Reaching down to your clit, he whispered permission to cum, which you gladly accepted, and in the process, you managed to milk him dry after biting the pressure point where his shoulder met his neck.

As soon as Touya was done cumming, you were swooped up into soft feathers and were met with a smirking face. “Are you ready for the ride of your life Babybird?” Yes, God yes you were so so ready, but couldn't manage to mutter a word, but he understood what you wanted to say through your pleading eyes.

Standing you on the floor Keigo kneeled you by the coffee table and bent you directly over it, leaning back to gain a better look at your dripping holes. Deciding he can't just look at it once he reached on the table to grab his phone to snap a quick picture, receiving multiple commands for him to send it to them in return.

Setting his phone down, began to massage your ass, moving to your lower thighs, before asking if you were ready, to which you mustered up a quick nod. With your permission he slammed his entire length into your pussy, gaining a moan and a few more tears. Bending over he reached to hold your hand and continued like that for some time before pulling your upper body smashing it so your back was to his chest giving everyone else a view of your breasts bouncing.

Throwing your head back onto his shoulder, Keigo leaned down and began to suck hickeys into your shoulder. Continuing like this until both of you came in a whirl of moans for each other and overstimulation. You leaned back into his warm embrace before Rumi came and picked you up onto her previous chair. She kneeled in front of you and spread open your legs.

“Before I do this, does anyone want a picture?” every single one of them scrambled to get their phones and snap a picture of your overstimulated cum stuffed holes. “You all done now,” you knew that tone Rumi wanted you to herself for a bit. Receiving nods from the boys, now back in their spots on the couches.

She quickly grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around her head, latching her mouth onto your quivering hole, and began to suck as much cum out as he could before removing her head and kissing you. Making you eat all of the men's cum batch after batch. When she was finally finished getting every last drop of semen out of you, she grabbed a soft, damp towel and gently wiped you down. Kissing you all over earning giggles and soft moans from you.

After she was all down, Rumi picked you up and wrapped you around her body, placing small kisses on the side of your jaw and lips.

“Rumi. I’m tired”

“Ok, Bunny, That’s ok, you can sleep now” she gentle mumbled back gaining obnoxious “aw’s” from your audience.

ఌ

“I don't know about you guys, but we have to do that again”

All the head’s nod, including your lovely girlfriends.

261 notes · View notes

typical-simplelove · 3 years

Text

I'll Always Fly Back Home to You - 40s AU (R. Hintz)

Summary: With the threat of a Soviet Union invasion, the Hintz family moves to America to escape death and war. What happens when Roope moves in next door to you?

Series Masterlist

A/n: This is the fourth installment and one of the best things I've ever written, I believe. This fic exists in the same universe in the Jamie Oleksiak fic that comes later on. I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: mentions of war, death, breaking up, the Soviet Union (?), suggestive photos

Word Count: 9.1k

November 20, 1939

You could do this. Yeah, you could. All you had to do was bring a tray of cookies to the new neighbors next door. This was going to be simple, right? Introduce yourself, offer any help, give them the cookies, and welcome them to the neighborhood. You walk over to their house, and you instantly catch a whiff of something that smells amazing. You walk up the steps and knock on the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the person who opened the door.

“Hi, my name is Yn, and I live next door,” you begin after overcoming the initial shock. “My mom is also the one who works for the agency you and your family used to come here.”

“Oh, hi Yn,” this boy tells you. He was really cute, you thought to yourself. “My name is --”

“Mrs. Yln, thank you so much for coming,” someone interrupts. “I was going to ring you up. Can you help us figure out how to use the oven?”

“Mom, this is her daughter, yn,” the boy who answered the door corrects. He gives you a smile and your face warms under his gaze.

“Oh you’re right. Yn, forgive me, please. Roope, welcome her in, please.”

So his name is Roope.

“Come on in?” Roope asks.

“Oh, sure. I made cookies for you guys as a welcome gift.”

“Thank you, so much,” Roope’s mother gushes. “I hate to ask, but do you know how to use the oven?”

“Maybe? I mean, I had to use the oven in order to bake these cookies.” You walk over to the oven and notice that it’s exactly like yours. You begin to explain how it works and strike up a conversation with Roope’s mother who tells you to call her Mrs. Hintz. You learned that the Hintz family immigrated from Finland because of the aggression of the Soviet Union. Most of the extended family was able to immigrate over and are now spread across the Dallas area.

You left about an hour after you arrived happy that your mother sent you to welcome the new family.

. . .

The next morning, you were walking out the door to go to the grocery store. It was a morning out of a novel. The sun was out shining and the temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. It was absolutely perfect. There was dew sitting on the grass, and it seemed like a day full of potential. You walk out of your lawn and turn right; incidentally, you’d have to go past the Hintz house. You are about to pass their walkway when you hear someone call out to you.

“Yn,” you turn around and see Roope walking out the door towards you. You stop and smile and wait for him. “Where are you headed?”

“The grocery store, you?”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Go with her,” Roope’s mother yells from the door. “She knows where to go; you don’t.”

You smile and look at Roope. A soft blush is now covering his face; you laugh softly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Is that okay? I have no idea where I’m going.”

You laugh at his comment. “Of course. It is my job as a neighbor to help you assimilate to the town best you can.”

Roope looks at you. “And I thought you wanted to be my first friend here.”

“I can do that as well, if you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in any way..”

“I doubt that being friends would inconvenience me, Roope.”

“You say that now, but, let me tell you, you might regret that sentence one day,” Roope says and winks at you. You feel the warmth reach your face as you look away bashfully. What was it with Roope?

. . .

In the days that followed your trip to the grocery store, a budding friendship blossomed. One day, you walked to your backyard to escape the rowdiness of your sisters and brothers. Sometimes, all you needed was to just leave for a bit.

You walk to the edge of your backyard where there is a giant tree that sits on both your family’s property and the Hintz property. You walk out and see Roope sitting under the tree. Opting not to bother him, you turn around and walk away. You thought that Roope didn’t see you; however, when he calls out to you, you know he saw you.

“You’re allowed to sit under the tree, too, yn,” Roope tells you as you sit.

“Yeah, I know,” you begin. “I just didn’t want to disturb you. I’m not sure why you’re sitting under the tree.”

“Well, don’t worry. You can sit. Why do you want to sit here?”

“Because you told me I could.”

Roope laughs. “That’s not what I meant.”

You smile at him. “Yeah, I knew that. No, I come out here at nights to get away from the loud and rowdy behavior of my family. Why are you out here?”

“Because you come out here often.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “So, you notice when I sit out here?”

Roope blushes under your words and the sunset behind you. “My bedroom faces the tree here, and I always see you.”

“So, you decided to come and sit with me?”

“I can leave if you want.”

“No, Roope, I’m only teasing. You can stay.”

“Maybe we can make a habit out of this.”

“How so?” you question.

“This can be our escape. You can escape from your family, and I can escape from the prying eyes of my family.”

“Yeah? Let’s do that. I like that idea.”

Roope smiles at you. He was starting not to mind the move to the US.

. . .

December 1, 1939

“Hey, Roope?”

“Yes, Yn.”

“The other day, you said that you wanted to escape the prying eyes of your family. What did you mean by that?”

Roope sighed heavily and you instantly felt bad. “They aren’t sure if I’m happy here. I mean, I am. We are safe and alive which is more than many can say considering the invasion.”

“But it’s hard being new.”

Roope nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with the friends I made, and you, but sometimes I miss where we lived.”

You nod. “So, that’s why you want an escape.”

“Mhm, but not the only reason.”

“What’s the other reason?” you ask inquisitively.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.” How was Roope supposed to tell you that his family wants him to ask you out but don’t realize that the two of you were just friends? He didn’t want anything else but a friendship with you. His family couldn’t understand that.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything I can do to help you with homesickness you’re feeling?”

Roope smiles at your concern. “Just be my friend?”

You smile at him. “That I can do.”

. . .

June 14, 1940

“Did you see?” you say to Roope as you walk up to him where he’s sitting under the tree.

“I mean, I can see what’s in front of me,” Roope teases.

“Haha very funny. No, did you see that the Germans are marching into Paris?” you sit down next to him and he puts an arm around you.

“Yeah, I saw that.”

“Are you worried?” you ask. Roope knows you well enough that you’re only asking because you’re worried and want reassurance.

“It depends. On the fate of the Parisians? Yeah, I’m terrified for them. On another war? I mean, it’s already started. What are you worried about?”

“Probably another war because that means that the people I love will be enlisting. You, my brothers, cousins, friends. It’s just worrisome.”

Roope begins stroking your arm in an attempt to try to calm your nerves. “Well, I promise you, that I’ll always find my way back home to you. Whether it be flying, driving, running, walking, or skating. I’ll be by your side.”

You look up at Roope and your eyes meet his. You always felt safe in his embrace and knew that he wasn’t lying. He’ll always find a way back home to you.

. . .

September 19, 1940 - the US Congress passes the Selective Service Act

“Well, I guess we can’t escape war, Roope. I mean, you knew that.”

“How so?”

“You are the same person that moved to the US from Finland because of the Soviet Union, right?” you joke lightly.

“Oh, right. Yeah. So, your brothers are enlisting?”

You nod. “Only the older ones. My younger brother is a bit too young, but he’ll be enlisting after his nineteenth birthday in a few months. What about you?”

“Not right now. They told me that I should wait until war was declared because I’m not a US-born citizen.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah, look, let’s forget about the worries of the world for right now, okay? My mother made some cookies, and I brought some out. Let’s just relax and live in our own bubble, okay?” Roope says to you as he offers you a cookie.

“Okay,” you nod and take a cookie that Roope is offering to you. “Oh, these are good.”

“I mean, they aren’t as good as the ones you made for us when we first moved in, but sure.”

“You remember those?” you ask comically.

“Of course I remember those! A pretty girl showing up at my doorstep offering us cookies? Kind of hard to forget. A pretty girl who is quite young that my mother mistakes as being the girl's mother? Even more memorable.”

You laugh audibly remembering the memory. “You know, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t you.”

Roope gives you a look of mock offence. “What does that mean?”

“I wasn’t expecting someone my age; I was expecting a family with young children that I could babysit or watch not you and your family.”

“Do you wish I was younger?”

“Absolutely not. Who else would be my best friend?”

Roope smiles at you and pulls you into his embrace. Best friends forever, they said.

. . .

October 28, 1940 - the Italians invade Greece

On a normal October day, you always made sure to have a sweater on you in the event you grew chilly. However, today, you forgot. By the time you walked into the backyard, your arms were cold, and you wanted to turn around. You were running late to meet Roope, though. You decided that if you got sick, then it’d be fine.

“You’re late,” Roope tells you from across the backyard. If you didn’t know him so well, you would have thought he was mad. However, you knew better.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. My sister wanted to go to the cinema, and she picked a long movie.”

“How was it?” Roope asks you as you sit down.

“Pretty good, I liked it. If you want to go see it, I’d definitely go and see it with you.”

Roope smiles at you and wraps his arm around you but flinches the moment he touches you. “Yn, why is your arm so cold?”

“Oh, I’m cold; it’s fine, though.”

Roope immediately shakes his head and begins shrugging off his jacket for you. “Here.”

“Roope, no.”

“Yn, yes. You’re cold, and I’m not. Just take it.”

You look at him and see that there’s a red tint coating his cheeks. Huh, you wonder what that’s about. “Fine, but only because I’m cold.”

“Why else would you take my jacket?”

“I, okay, whatever,” you deflect. What were you supposed to say? Giving a girl your jacket was what boyfriends did not friends.

When you and Roope both said goodnight that night, you walked towards your house and were about to step inside when you realized you were still wearing his jacket. You were about to turn around but you hear Roope call out to you.

“Keep it, it looks better on you, anyways.”

You laugh. The coat sat on the hook in your bedroom; you looked at it each morning and smiled at the memory of your best friend.

. . .

April 13, 1941 - Japan and the Soviet Union sign a neutrality pact.

“How was your date last night?” you ask Roope when you’re both settled under the tree.

He shrugs.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, I mean, she was nice. It was nice. I walked her home, but she told me that she didn’t want to see me again as on a date.”

“Oh, did you want me to talk to her?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Do you think you know why she doesn’t want to see you again?”

“Not sure, probably something along the lines of there just isn’t a spark.”

“Did you want me to vouch for you? Tell her how amazing you are?”

Roope laughs. “No, don’t worry about it.” He wasn’t going to let you talk to her because she told Roope that it wasn’t fair for him to be dating other women when he was in love with you. Roope denied it, but as he walked home that night, he realized she was right. Roope was in love with you, his best friend. The first person he met when he moved to Dallas. He loved you. The one person who would probably only ever see him as a friend.

. . .

December 6, 1941

You were sitting under the tree reading a book while you waited for Roope one evening. It was a chilly evening, and you were starting to get cold. You contemplated going inside and getting a jacket, his jacket. However, when you saw Roope exit from his back porch, you decided against it. Anyways, the warmth that filled you by seeing your best friend made you forget about the cold.

“Hey,” you say to him as you close your book.

“Hey, ynn,” he says to you. “This is for you from my mom. She was going through some of her old stuff and found this. No one else wanted it, so I thought that you might like it.”

“Oh, wow, just giving me things your family doesn’t want anymore.”

Roope laughs at your teasing remark. “No, I didn’t know about it until before dinner, and mom asked if I wanted it. I obviously don’t but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you will.”

“What is it?” you ask, taking the box from his hands.

“Why don’t you just open it?”

“Wow, sassy. I wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

“Just open the box.”

“Fine,” you retort and open the box. You gasp and look at Roope. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can. I think you will have a better use for it then the cabinet shelf in the basement.”

“But, it must have been so expensive. Don’t you want to keep it in the family?”

“You are family, yn.”

“I mean blood family, Roope,” you say. He has given you the most stunning teapot you have ever seen.

“If my mother wasn’t okay with me giving it to you, then she would’ve said something.”

“What about your aunts?”

“Same. They all think we’re going to get married one day, so what’s the point if it’s going to be back in our family again.”

You look up at Roope, and you have a weird feeling in your stomach that you can’t explain. Did you want to marry Roope? No, you were both just friends, right? “Well, too bad we aren’t going to be getting married.”

“Yeah, too bad.” You were surprised with the tone that Roope had in his voice. Was he feeling the same conflicting feelings you were?

“Well, thank your mother for me. This is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, Roope, thank you!”

“Of course, anything for you.” And, he’d do anything for you.

. . .

December 11th, 1941 - Germany and Italy declare war on the United States

After getting the teapot from Roope a few days ago, you decided to bring lemon squares to the Hintz household to thank them. You pack them into a tray and head out the door. You walk over to the Hintz house and knock on the door. Roope’s mother opens the door for you and wraps you into a large hug and begins to sob.

“Mrs. Hintz, are you okay?” you ask clearly knowing she isn’t.

“I’m not sure. Oh, come in, come in. Roope’s not here right now.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m here to see you, actually. I made lemon squares to thank you for the teapot. It’s beautiful, and I love it.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“Um, Mrs. Hintz?” you ask cautiously. She looks at you, and you know it’s safe for you to continue. “May I ask why you were crying?”

“Oh,” she says and the tears slowly start again. “Roope went to the navy offices to enlist. He’s going to war, and he’s going to be a navy pilot. You obviously knew that though because he tells you everything.”

The heat drains from your face. Roope was going off to war. You knew that eventually this would happen as your two older brothers went to bootcamp a few months ago and your younger brother’s number came up just yesterday. However, you weren’t expecting for Roope to be enlisting right away. It made sense, though, considering that the Soviets invaded his home. The one thing, though, that’s sticking out to you is that Mrs. Hintz thinks that you knew. This means that he definitely made the decision without talking to anyone, even you. “No, I didn’t know that, but he’s doing what he feels is best, right?”

“I know that, it’s just going to hurt when he leaves.”

You nod. “Did you want me to make some tea, and we can have the lemon squares I made?”

“Would that be okay?” she asks.

You smile. “More than okay.”

Roope enlisting is not your sadness to be felt. You were going to help his family in any way you could.

. . .

December 15th, 1941

“Do you miss home?” you asked Roope. Roope never not talked about his time back home, but he also wasn’t the most open about it. You never pried and you never asked for more. You were willing to just take as much information as he would give you.

“Like my bedroom?” Roope asks.

You laugh and Roope smiles at you. There was something about your laugh that made Roope melt. “No, like Finland.”

“Oh,” Roope’s smile fades and you instantly feel bad for bringing it up. “I miss some of the older extended family that couldn’t come with us and some friends, but I’m not sure about the rest of it.”

You nod. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here.”

“You are the best thing that came out of my move to the States,” Roope tells you and you feel the warmth spread to your face. “Yn, I have something to tell you. You might not like what I have to say.”

You knew what he was talking about; his mother told you. “You’re joining the navy and are going to be a navy pilot.”

Roope sits up and looks at you. The two of you were laying down under the large tree in your backyard. “How did you know that?”

“Your mother told me.”

Roope laughs sarcastically and shakes his head. “Of course she did, when you brought the lemon squares?”

You nod. “She was crying when I went over, and she told me. Don’t be mad at her.”

“I’m not, don’t worry. Did you cry too?”

“No, I didn’t,” you say but your voice wobbles. Roope looks at you and puts his hands on your cheeks to catch any tears that might fall.

Roope smiles at you; he looks like he’s contemplating something. He looks down at your lips and you feel the warmth rush to your face again. “Can I kiss you, yn?”

You nod. “Yeah, please kiss me.”

He leans down and gently places his lips on yours. The kiss lasted for a few seconds, but it’s enough for you to know you don’t want to kiss anyone else ever again. When you both pull away, you stare into each other’s eyes, and you know you’ve made a tremendous shift in your relationship. No longer were you and Roope good friends. No, now you were two people who finally realized their feelings after a few years. You know that there was no one else for you, and you hoped that Roope felt the same.

“Can I kiss you again?” Roope eagerly asks. He wants nothing in the world except to kiss you again but doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“Of course.”

He kisses you again, and you’re pretty sure you melt. How could just one touch make you so happy and giddy and excited at the same time? This time, the kiss is longer, and you both deepen the kiss not wanting to separate. You couldn’t be without him and he without you.

“About time,” your sister yells from the porch. You pull away from Roope and giggle.

“I guess so,” you say to Roope and he smiles back at you.

. . .

The days leading up to when Roope was set to go to bootcamp were spent together. You both tried to fit years of couple things into three days. It was hard. You both knew that navy pilots were one of the most dangerous positions in the military, and they might not make it home.

On the day that Roope was set to leave, he asked his family to go to the train station on their own so that you and him could walk together. How romantic, you thought, despite the circumstances.

“Do you promise to write to me?” Roope asks before he’s about to get on the train.

You smile. “Of course, silly. I’ll write to you all the time that you’ll ask me to stop.”

“I highly doubt that,” Roope tells you and kisses you. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Roope,” you tell him with tears in your eyes. “Fly back home to me?”

Roope smiles and kisses your forehead. “I’ll always fly back home to you.” He gives you one last kiss and picks up his bag and walks away. He turns around one last time to wave. His last thought is wondering if this’ll be the last time he sees your face.

. . .

Dear Roope,

This letter might take a while to get to you, but you knew that. Now that you’re overseas, it might take a bit for my letters to come to you. Let me tell you, though, just because they are further apart or might take some time doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. Why would I? Why would I ever stop writing to the man I love? I hope I’m not jumping to any conclusions by telling you I love you because I do. I think I always did. The minute you moved in next door, I think I fell for you. It just took some time for me to realize how I felt. Let’s be glad that we finally realized, right?

Did you know that my sister is getting married? She is settling down with her childhood sweetheart. Isn’t that so romantic? Can you imagine marrying your childhood sweetheart? I have a question. Feel free to ignore this question. Did you have someone you loved back home? Did you love her and think you’ll marry her? If you don’t want to answer, feel free not to. I’m just curious. You don’t often talk about your life before moving to the US, and I just want to know more. Care to share? Please? How about for the woman who loves you to pieces?

What's flying like? You don’t have to tell me where you’re flying over or anything like that. Just tell me, is it beautiful? Have you touched a cloud? Is the sun just absolutely beautiful? Is looking at the ground from the sky put everything in perspective?

Fly back home to me, right?

With love all the way from Dallas,

Dearest Yn,

Just know, I love every letter you write to me even if they are weeks apart. I don’t care. Any letter makes me so happy. Some of the other members in my company always make fun of me for having a girl I love, but I don’t care. Mail call is always the best part of my day because I get to hear from you. The anticipation I feel is unbelievable. And no, it’s not too presumptuous to tell me you love me because guess what? I love you, too! More than you could possibly know. The minute I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were special. Every time I saw you and we hung out, my heart always had this weird feeling. I thought it was just nerves of being in a new country or having a new friend. However, as the months went on and I got to know you, the feeling didn’t go away. It took for a war to be declared for me to make a move and tell you I loved you and not just in a best friend's way. I hope that’s not too presumptuous, but, then again, you did say it first.

Send my congratulations to your sister from me. That must be awfully romantic for childhood sweethearts to be falling in love and getting married. And now, to answer your question. Let me quote you first. You said “did you have someone you loved back home?” Let me tell you, you are that girl back home. Home is in Dallas now because it’s where my family is and where you are. You are that girl back home that I dream about marrying one day. I know that you mean in Finland, and, let me tell you, no, there was never anyone who I loved as much as I love you. You are the girl back home that I want to marry one day. As for stories from Finland, what do you want to know?

Flying is beautiful. To answer you questions: it’s absolutely beautiful (but not as much as you). No, I haven’t touched a cloud. Just so you know, I’m not sticking my hand outside the window or cockpit in order to do that. From that far up, the sun is still bright, so I’m not sure if it’s beautiful. I try not to stare at it. However, if you’re talking about the sun in my life, then it’s beautiful because you are the sun and center of my life. Looking at the ground truly does put it into perspective. It makes me realize how much I want to be with you when this hellish war is over.

I’ll always fly back home to you.

With love from the sky,

Roope.

Dear Roope,

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Oh, you want me to say it again? Gladly. I love you, Roope Hintz, and I can’t wait to spend every single day with you after this war. Getting my letters is the best part of your day, huh? Maybe I should send more to boost your morale. (or maybe something a little bit more suggestive? Actually, no, my mother would kill me if I did that and considering I still live in her house, nope. Sorry.). I’m glad, though, that you have something to look forward to everyday. I can’t imagine what it must be like over there. If you want (and can) please do share. I want to hear about everything. You don’t even have to tell me about the combat or any of that stuff. How about what you do on your days off? Who are the men in your unit? Tell me all about any friends you made. I’m not sure where you are because, you know, classified and all, but tell me, have you been able to see any of the sights? How beautiful are they? I don’t care what you tell me; I just want to read about what you’re doing because I miss you so much. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t head to the backyard to wait for you. Everyday. Like clockwork. I go to where our backyards meet and wait. It always takes me a moment to realize that you’re not coming to meet me and it makes me sad. Just know that I think about you all the time.

My sister is grateful for your congratulations to her. She told me to tell you that she is expecting our wedding next and that you should get on it, Roope. I only laughed at her. I’m sure you have other things going on in your life, so don’t worry! A wedding can wait. All I want is that you one day promise to love me for all my life because I promise to love you all my life.

Finland. What do I want to know about your life in Finland? How about, what did your house look like? Is it anything like where your family lives now in Dallas? What did your bedroom look like? Is it similar to your room here? What did you do in your free time? I want to know it all, Roope. Everything there is to know.

Your words about me being the girl back home? Melted my heart. I reread them every night before I go to bed. I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Roope. I guess it takes a war for your true romantic side to come out. Well, you’re my guy overseas that I’m waiting for.

Flying sounds so beautiful. Maybe, one day, you could take me up with you? But for now, I just have to experience flying through your words.

Fly back home to me?

Love,

Dear Yn,

I’d write how much I love but then I’d be writing for all of time and we wouldn’t want that, right? If that were the case, then I’d never win this war and come home to you! Even then, I wouldn’t be able to ever spend time with you. Because you asked, let me tell you about some of the other pilots in my unit. My CO (commanding officer) is Tyler Seguin, and he’s great. Believe it or not, there are two other men who are also from Finland. They moved away at a young age so not as recently as me but still. Esa and Miro. It’s nice having people to talk to about Finland who have a slight inkling about what I’m talking about. There are other guys in my unit - Jamie Oleksiak, Denis Gurianov, Ben Bishop, and more. This unit is like a family, and I hope that they get to meet you one day. Actually, not Jamie Oleksiak. I feel like he has the charm and looks to take you away from me. However, he has a Red Cross worker that he’s absolutely in love with who wants nothing to do with him, so maybe not that much of a threat. On my days off, I normally just hang around the base. I often reread you letters to me and it almost makes up for me not being by your side each day. Sometimes I’ll venture into town and go for walks or to a local restaurant. Before you ask again, yes, I have seen some of the sights. I’ve seen some beautiful, grand buildings that are just so beautiful. I hope, one day, I can bring you back here to show you the beauty. There might be a war but the beauty and glamour are still there. Some of the palaces or mansions are just beautiful but not as much as you! Sometimes I’ll go for a walk and see a big tree and I will sit under it thinking you’re going to join me. Every day at the time we would normally meet, I always take a step outside, if possible, and just sit there thinking about you. Because of the time difference, it’s probably early afternoon for you but know that there is not a day that goes by without me thinking about you, darling. (Don’t feel the need to send me anything suggestive; I’d rather your parents not have a negative opinion of me one day if I am to be their son-in-law. We all know that I’ll be doing worse things to you once we get married. How else are babies made?)

You can tell your sister that a wedding can be arranged the minute she can get Hitler to surrender. If she can manage that, then I’ll marry you the minute I touch Dallas soil and can get you into my arms. Better yet! Why don’t I meet you at the church and we just get married right away?

My house in Finland was slightly smaller than my family’s house in Dallas. It wasn’t painted the vibrant yellow like in Dallas; it was a beige hue that was fairly bland. I far prefer the color of the house in Dallas because it’s the same color as your house and reminds me of you. Whenever I see something yellow, I always think of you. Most things in the world that I see go back to you. My bedroom in Finland? Pretty bland and similar to the one back in Dallas. When we made the trip, we only carried what we could so many of the posters or books I had stayed there. I did get to keep a few mementos; however, I’d rather fill a home with memories and mementos of you and our relationship. My free time? Same as before. I did play more hockey, however. There aren’t many frozen ponds in Dallas, but it’s okay. Playing on the road with the neighbors is fun! Maybe I should get you to play. What do you say?

My darling yn, you should know that I can be awfully romantic. I used to charm all the girls back in Finland. Actually, that’s a lie. You’re the only one. Maybe I should be more romantic. Just wait and see, my love, I’m going to be so romantic that you’re going to get sick of it! You’ll forever be the girl I’m going home to! When asked about if I have anyone back home, it’s always you. No one else. I guess my family, but you’re always first.

With love from the sky,

Roope

. . .

August 14, 1943

Roope took to the sky as normal one morning. Mail call was just before his scheduled time to fly, so he saved your letter for later. Flying over occupied France was always dangerous, and Roope’s CO told the unit to make sure that their wills were in check for the worst case scenario. The men were expecting the worst, so it’s only important they prepared for the worst.

After flying for twenty minutes, Nazi fighter pilots began shooting at Roope and his men. To his right, Roope’s wingman went down. He didn’t see a parachute which likely means he didn’t make it out. This really shocked Roope. He knew that there was a possibility that he might die or his friends. However, this was the first time that someone so close to Roope died. It could have easily been him.

Once he touched down, Roope headed to his barracks to read your letter. Only your letters could shake away the horrors of war.

Dearest Roope,

How are you, darling?

He read the first six words, and he instantly broke down. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep writing to you when he knew that he’d be dying next. It didn’t matter if he loved you more than anyone or anything in the world. It didn’t matter if he had been sending money back to his mother to put aside so that he can buy you a ring. None of it mattered if he died and you were heartbroken. Nothing mattered. Roope knew that he was going to be gone soon; it was part of the job being in the military but especially a pilot. There was only one thing he could do: he had to let you go.

Dear Yn,

It pains me to write this; however, just know that I love you. I’m doing this because I love you. I think that you should stop writing to me. I believe that it will be easier for you when I’m gone if we weren’t in contact. You should be out and having fun. You should be the young woman in your twenties doing things young women do. You should be going on dates, going out dancing, and not writing to a pilot whose life is short. It pains me to write this. Please, forgive me. I’m doing this because I love you. I love you so much that I want you to be happy when I’m gone. Please, I’m sorry. Forgive me.

With all my love,

Roope.

He sealed up the short letter into an envelope, wrote your address and put a stamp on it immediately. He knew that he would regret this later on, but he knew that it was for the best. He knew that you were going to write him one last letter asking him to change his mind. He wasn’t going to. Roope was doing this because he loved you. There was nothing else. He couldn’t fathom the idea that he might die in combat one day, and you’ll never move on because you dreamed of marrying him. He couldn’t. That would be so much worse than dying. He loved you so much that letting you go was what was for the best. Roope walked to the post office; he took a deep breath and gave the mail person his letter.

Now, he was awaiting your letter that would absolutely break his heart.

. . .

You received his letter three weeks after he sent it. You opened your mailbox and smiled widely to see it. You sat on the porch swing with your sister, heavily pregnant, sitting next to you. You carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. At first glance, the letter looked really small, but you didn’t think anything of it. He was fighting a war; it makes sense if his letters weren’t as long as yours.

You read the first line, and you felt the tears begin to fall down your face. Did he find someone else? Did he not love you anymore? Deciding to ignore your thoughts, you decide to continue to read.

No, this was so much worse than Roope finding someone else. This was the worst. No, he was telling you to stop writing to him.

You finish the letter and cry out. Your sister looks up next to you. She grabs the letter out of your hand and begins reading. She briefly skims it but understands the overall message. Roope wanted you to stop writing to him; he wanted you to stop talking to him. Roope was letting you go. Your sister wraps her arm around you and begins to console you. You brush her off, excuse yourself, and run to your bedroom. How could Roope do this to you? Does he not understand that it didn’t matter what happened? You would always love him no matter what? You instantly pull out a sheet of stationary and begin to write your reply. You knew that he asked you not to write to him, but you felt he should know the pain he was putting you through.

It took you four times to finally put words to paper.

Dear Roope,

I know that you asked me not to write to you, but I feel like you should know how much you are breaking my heart. I apologize that this paper is tear-stained. I was going to write it without the tear-stains, but I feel that you should be able to see firsthand the pain and heartbreak you’re putting me through because you are the cause of it. How could you feel that this is any better? Is this what you wanted? For me to be crying in my bedroom? Did you see me being okay with your letter? Am I supposed to be okay with the fact that you don’t care enough about how I feel? Just so you know, I love you more than anything in the world. So, tell me, how does me crying in my bedroom and getting over heartbreak equal what you wanted? You tell me you want me to stop writing to you and enjoy my evenings as a young woman. How am I supposed to do that when I’m sitting here with a broken heart? The idea of me going out tomorrow? No, nonexistent. You hurt me and I don’t want to do anything. Just the idea of being with someone else makes me sad and sick. Is this what you wanted? For me to be heartbroken?

Do you remember what you told me the day you left? You told me that you would always fly back home to me. Always. You added that always. What happened to that?

Let me say one last thing: who are you to tell me what I want? I think I am perfectly capable of knowing who or what I want.

You were angry now. How dare Roope assume he knows what you want? Why can’t he understand that you love him and would do anything for him? Why would he do this to you? You angrily seal up the letter and add a stamp. You set it on your dresser to be put in the mailbox the next morning. What were you going to do now? What do you do when the person who you love more than anything in the world doesn’t care for you anymore? What do you do when the person who you’ve been dreaming about marrying says he can’t give you the same thing? Why would he do this to you?

. . .

Roope isn’t surprised to see your letter. He knows you; he knows you well enough that you definitely gave him a piece of your mind. However, what he wasn’t expecting was to see a tear-stained letter. It immediately breaks his heart knowing that he is probably the cause of your tears. Roope can’t read the letter in front of his friends, so he walks into the barracks. They’d be disappointed in him. They’d tell Roope that he was being an idiot. He was head over heels hopelessly in love with you, so why would he ruin that?

Roope reads your letter and there are tears in his eyes. What hurt the most was the way you signed the letter. You just signed it “yn”. There was no “love” or “yours”. It was just your name. What was he expecting? He basically broke up with you; there was no reason for you to remind him of your love.

“Where did you run off to?” Esa says as he barges into the barracks. “Your girl send any suggestive photos for your pleasure?”

When Roope doesn’t answer, Esa gets nervous. Roope was always very smiley and happy after he got one of your letters. Esa takes the letter out of Roope’s hand and reads it. When he sees the stained writing and what it contains, Esa instantly knows why Roope is upset.

“You love her, so why did you do this to her?”

“Because I’m not going to be able to give her what she wants. She wants to marry me one day.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Roope nods. “I can’t marry her, though, if I’m dead.”

“Who says you’re going to die?”

“I think the fact that pilots have the highest death rate speaks for that.”

Esa sighs and sits on the bed next to Roope. “We’re in a war. We should be able to have our dreams right next to us, right? You shouldn’t have to give up everything. You’re giving up your twenties, happiness, and strength to fight a war you didn’t start. The one thing you should be able to have is your dream. The letter you wrote her? Ruined that dream. Why did you do it?”

“I don’t want her to love a man who is going to die one day. I don’t want her to dream and imagine what our wedding would look like. I don’t want her to dream about the life we will have together one day. That’s not true. I want her to dream about those things. However, I don’t want her to dream about those things if I can’t be there. I don’t want to get shot down only for her dream life not to be able to happen. More than anything in the world, I want her to be happy. I don’t think I can give her that if I die. I want to give her a life in which she can be happy.”

“Roope, from what I can tell, you made her sad and miserable.”

“If I end things with her now, then when I die, she’ll already have a mended heart and be able to move on.”

“I don’t think so.”

Roope looks up. “What?”

“Firstly, you keep talking as if you’re going to die tomorrow. There is no definite evidence that points to that. You know, she could always die in a car accident tomorrow, God forbid. Secondly, from this letter, she loves you and you broke her heart.”

A look of realization crosses Roope’s face. “Damn, you’re right. I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

“Maybe when you go home you can fix things?”

Roope nods. He only hopes that whenever this war ends you’ll still love him enough to give him a second chance.

. . .

September 13, 1945

A knock on your parent’s door has you shocked. You were sitting in the kitchen making a pie to bring over to the Hintz’s house. Despite not talking to Roope in two years, your family and the Hintz family were still close. You clean your hands on the dish rag and walk over to the door. You don’t take the time to check who it is before you open the door. When you see the person on the other side of the door, you gasp and slam the door in their face.

It was Roope.

The love of your life who told you two years ago that the two of you shouldn’t write to each other. He threw away years of love and friendship in one letter. However, it was rude to shut the door in his face, right? You open the door again carefully. Part of you is hoping he took the hint and walked away; however, the majority of you is hoping that he’s still there. Despite him breaking your heart, you still loved him with your entire heart and being. You doubted you would ever love anyone as much as you loved Roope.

So, you open the door. Thankfully, he’s still out there. “Hi, Roope.”

“Hi, Yn,” he says nervously. “Um, these are for you. Your favorites.”

You take the flowers he’s handing to you and smile. Of course he remembered. “Thank you. Why don’t you come in, and I’ll put them into water and a vase.”

Roope nods and follows you into the house.

“When did you get home?”

“Oh, um, just a few days ago,” Roope is confused at the friendliness of the way this conversation is going. He figured you would have some harsh words for him considering what he did to you.

“And you’re only stopping by to say hi now?” you tease.

“I mean, I’m not sure how much you hate me considering I broke your heart.”

“Oh, so we are addressing the elephant in the room, then.”

“Look, yn, I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted what’s best for you.”

“So, you broke my heart?”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to do.”

“Then what did you want to do.”

Roope sighs and looks at you. “I wanted your heart to get over me earlier, so that when I died, it wouldn’t hurt as much. I didn’t want you to dream of this life with me after the war only for it to be destroyed by me dying in combat.”

“What would have happened if you didn’t die?”

“Like before I wrote that letter or after?”

“Both, Roope.”

“Before? I would have flown back home to you as promised and married you. After? Well, this.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s this?”

“An apology tour?”

“A tour? Who else’s heart did you break?” you tease.

“My mother’s.”

You giggle softly. “What?”

“My mother was heartbroken to know what I did. She was so upset and sad that you wouldn’t be her daughter-in-law one day.”

“Oh.”

Roope isn’t sure how to take this. “If you’ll forgive me, yn, then that would make me so happy. I know it’s not me fixing what I did but it’s a start. Even if you don’t love me as much as I love you or at all, that’s okay. I just need you to forgive me.”

“If I forgive you, what comes next?” you add on.

Roope knows you well enough to know that this means that you’re leaning to forgiving him. “Well, I’d probably ask you out for dinner and then another and another and another and that pattern would continue. After a while, I hope, you’ll realize that I never stopped loving you and still want to marry you one day. When you finally realize that, I’ll ask you to marry me and we’ll live the life you always dreamed about.”

Roope’s words put tears in your eyes. He still loves you? He still wants to marry you? “I forgive you, Roope. I could never stay mad at you,” you say as you jump into his arms.

Roope smiles and wraps his arms around you. He strokes your back as you cry into his chest and softly kisses your forehead. When you finally stop crying, Roope decides to test the waters. “Does this mean I can take you out for dinner?”

You laugh. “Yes, Roope, you can take me out for dinner.”

“I did promise to always fly back home to you, yn.”

You smile. “And that you did.”

. . .

June 15, 1946

“Hey, step outside for a moment?” Roope whispers into your ear. You were sitting in your living room celebrating the birthday of your sister’s son. You nod and take Roope’s hand. After that day he came home and visited you, Roope has spent every single day since then showing you how sorry he is and reminding you everyday of his love for you. There was not a single day in which you doubted his love for you. Roope leads you out your back door and out to the tree in your backyard. When you walk out, you notice that there’s a blanket sitting on the grass underneath it and small lights hanging from the large branches.

“Roope, what’s this?” you ask.

“The last part of my apology tour.”

“Roope, we’ve gone over this verbatim. I forgive you; there is no need to keep trying to prove you’re sorry or love me.”

“You say that now but I think you’ll like this final part. Come sit?” Roope sits on the blankets and opens his arms so that you can join him. You do. You sit with your back to him and he wraps his arms around you. You can feel how fast his heart is beating on your back.

“Before you say anything, I need you to know, I am truly sorry for all of the heartbreak I put you through. That’s the one thing I will regret for the rest of my life. There is nothing I can do to ever make it up to you. However, I hope that marrying you will help me make it up to you.”

“You’re going to have to prop-- oh!” you’re interrupted when Roope places a small velvet box in your hand. “Roope.”

“When my parents told me we were moving to Dallas, I wasn’t sure if I’d like it. I knew why we were moving, but I didn’t want to. But then, you showed up on my doorstep with a plate of cookies in your hand and my life changed forever. My family knew before I did just how much I loved you. It took some time, but I wouldn’t change a single thing. Actually, I’d change the letter I wrote during the war but nothing else. I wouldn’t change the friendship we had and the meetings under this very tree. None of it. I only wish that we didn’t lose so many years together because of the war. Yes, I’ll admit, I ruined that a bit. We probably could be married by now and maybe have a little one of our own running around or you were close to giving birth to one. However, life happened the way it did.”

There were tears starting to form in your eyes. Roope releases his hold on you and guides you to stand up. You stand, and he goes down on one knee.

“Yn, there are no words to describe the love I have for you. Not a single one. However, I hope that if you let me be the happiest man on earth, it might give me enough time to find all the words. During the war, I was sending money to my mother to save for me to use to buy you a ring. That didn’t stop when I did what I did. I actually bought this ring the day before I went to see you. I felt that, though, despite my want to marry you right then and there, I knew we weren’t there yet. That doesn’t mean we aren’t there now.” Roope takes a deep breath. “Yn, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes of course!” you tell him and Roope smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely!”

He gets up and places a kiss on your lips. It was salty from your tears but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Roope breaks away and places the ring on your hand.

“You did fly back home to me even if it took some time.”

“You never have to doubt it, yn,” Roope tells you as yours and his family cheers from the back porch. “No matter what, I’ll always fly back home to you.”

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detroit-become-hurt · 4 years

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Sweets and Harbored Feelings

Summary: You meet the new neighbors and needless to say, your smitten. Just your luck, they’re quite taken with you too

You sigh as you opened your front door, setting the empty milk bottles on the porch and stretch, taking in the morning air. Despite the sun being high in the sky already, it was fairly cool, and there was a nice breeze that came by every now and then. The door in the house next to you opens, and you see a young man come out. He’s wearing what looked to be a uniform that the milk men wear, and was holding a pie tin full of kibble. As he shook it you watched as cats came out of the bushes, purring and rubbing along the mans legs.

“Hello!” You greet, startling him slightly. Turning to look at you he gives you a curious look. “I haven’t seen you around here before, did you just move in? I knew Mrs. Abbey had a room for rent, didn’t think anyone would take it with all the cats she had. Or at least that’s what everyone around here suspected. I’m y/n.” By the time you finished speaking two more men who look just like the first appear next to him. The tallest one with a scar on his eye gives you an intense stare, while the other tilts his head. After a moment of silence one of them introduced themself and the others, “Axel,” He says, his accent thick, “That’s Otto,” the tall one, “And this is Oscar.” The one holding the kibble.

“Nice to meet you all! Hopefully we can chit chat some more some other time, I have to get going to work. But welcome to the neighborhood!” You bid them farewell before making your way down the street. The three brothers stared after you, quite intrigued by the way your hair blew in the wind.

It was about 7 p.m. when Axel heard a knock at the door. Looking over at Oscar and Otto he gets up, making his way towards the front. Otto and Oscar had a gun and knife at the ready, in case it was someone trying to attack them. Although they weren’t very good at attacking if they knocked on the front door, Axel thought. Opening the door he sees you standing there, holding a basket of blueberry muffins.

“Howdy! Hope I’m not bothering ya too much, but I made some muffins for you guys!” Upon noticing Axel wasn’t wearing pants and just his boxers you blushed, trying to keep your eyes on his face. Taking the basket Axel nods to you as a thank you, and he was about to shut the door when Oscar’s favourite orange tabby darted out the door. Oscar lunges forward, trying to stop him but he ended up tripping, sending his knife clattering to the ground with him. Luckily for him you had managed to scoop the cat up in your arms. Your eyes travel down to the knife, before looking at Oscar. “Are you okay?” Reaching a hand out to help him up, you then bent down and grabbed the knife before returning it to him. However, you weren’t very careful and ended up knicking your finger. “Ow! Chicken feet,” you say almost dropping the knife again.

Axel quickly passed the basket of muffins to Otto, before taking your hand in his. Gently grabbing you by the wrist he leads you inside and sits you down at the kitchen table. Letting the orange tabby go you watch as Axel came back with a first aid kit. Otto and Oscar had started on eating the muffins you brought, watching the two of you. “You don’t have to do that,” You say feeling bad for intruding more than you meant to. Axel waves your words away, “You are hurt. We cannot let a lady leave bleeding.” His calloused hands are quick to wipe the cut with antiseptic, which caused you to hiss at the sudden sting. However, it was soothed by Axel blowing air on it gently, his eyes boring into yours. Your face heats up yet again at the intense look he gives you, before he wraps some gauze and medical tape around it. “Not deep. Doesn’t need stitches.” He says giving your knee a gentle pat before standing up.

“Thank you,” smiling you stand up, “I’m sorry to have intruded so much. I should get home. Don’t worry about the basket, I have plenty!” You say before showing yourself out. The three brothers felt themselves missing your prescence already. Something about you just lit up the place, you put them in a good mood. Axel walks over to his brothers, taking a muffin that Oscar had held out for him to try. Sniffing it he takes a bit, surprised at how good it was. The three swedes ate in silence, wondering when they would see you next. Otto and Oscar were also hoping you’d come by with more sweets.

And to the boys luck, you did. Every few days you would stop over, bringing over cakes, cookies, muffins, or other things that you baked yourself. They had come to find out that you owned a bakery in town, no wonder why your treats were so delicious. Besides delivering treats, you had taken to spending time with the boys on their off days. They never really told you what their job was, merely saying that they dealt with issues related to the law. That explained the weapons to you.

Otto asked you shyly one day to show him how to bake something, and of course you agreed, excitedly showing him how to make your famous oatmeal raisin cookies. Oscar and yourself would play with the cats, and you’d watch with a smile on your face as Oscar worked on making sweaters for the hairless cats in the house. Axel usually read the newspaper, or would be cleaning the guns they owned. When he was doing this, you would sit and watch, occasionally asking questions about what kind of gun it was, and what he was doing. Most of the guns were ones you had never heard of. Occasionally Axel would ask if you wanted to help, and eagerly you would nod. He’d give you pieces of the gun to wipe down, before taking them back from you and sticking the gun back together. He would show you how the gun worked, how to load it and explained that some of their guns had bigger recoils than others.

You had formed a type of bond with the three brothers, one that most people didn’t understand. They thought the triplets were odd, and that it was especially strange that they rarely talked. However you didn’t mind. They talked to you, and you talked to them. You knew them quite well, you liked to think.

The swedes knew that they were playing a dangerous game, falling in love with you. With their line of work, there was no way that they had time for things such as relationships. The commission would never allow it either. But for now, they would enjoy spending time with you while they could. At the end of each night, when you left their home, they would watch you walk next door. Giving them a wave you head inside, unaware of the inner turmoil the brothers felt. One day, they would have to leave you, and that day was coming up sooner and sooner. Until then, they would cherish every moment with you.

#the swedes #the swedes axel #the swedes oscar #the swedes otto #umbrell academy #the umbrell academy #the umbrell academy fanfic #the umbrella academy imagines #the swedes x reader

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Kurtbastian fic “Always and Forever” Chapter 3

Summary: After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3.

Chapter 3 (4753 words)

Kurt stares out his studio window at the neighborhood below. It’s 10:15 a.m. and a Tuesday, so it isn’t as if the place is teeming with activity. Everyone living on Colony Lane seems content to stick to their own spaces, abide by their own schedules, and go about their lives without much interference from the world outside.

Kurt hates to hand it to Sebastian, but that’s what he wants as well. Isolation in a quaint fixer-upper is precisely what he needs.

Another point for Sebastian.

Damn.

He seems to be racking them up lately, while Kurt…

Kurt can admit that he’s not trying as hard as he should be, but he’s giving himself permission to be selfish. There shouldn’t be a timetable for bouncing back from loss, and Kurt got the double-whammy.

Sebastian gave him betrayal to get over, too.

Kurt knows that he should deem repairing his marriage a priority, but he also needs to do what’s right for him.

He hasn’t figured out what that is yet, but it'll come to him.

Underlying childhood guilt has him believing that he should introduce himself to the neighbors. Etiquette and all that. It’s what his mother would do. Every time his family moved, and there had been a handful of times, Kurt’s mother would bake a batch of cookies for the neighbors. She'd put a baker's dozen into colorful cellophane bags, tie the tops with curled ribbon, and take them door to door to say hello. She wouldn’t wait for people to show up on their doorstep with a casserole and a smile. She believed in being proactive. She would tell him, “New neighborhood, new life. Go out and be a part of it.”

But Kurt doesn’t want to, and the neighbors seem fine with that.

It’s been three days, and Kurt and Sebastian have only gotten one visitor – the technician who came to fix the heating. Of course, the neighbors could be waiting for them to get settled. Then they’ll pounce over with perfectly iced Gingerbread Bundt cakes and Chicken Kievs, church invites, and Girl Scout cookie order forms, like a swarm of Stepford Wives.

Kurt doesn’t care about being proactive, and his mother isn’t around to scold him for behaving like a hermit.

That may sound harsh, but it's true.

The clouds pulling together in the sky overhead, threatening rain, give Kurt an excuse to shut himself away and work on the house - an excuse he can ply without the assistance of a tragic backstory. With his laptop open on the floor in front of him, he browses those websites that feed his design fetishes: Ethan Allen, Neiman Marcus, Anthropologie.

But he's not the least bit inspired.

He’d decided to start small, take things room by room instead of attacking everything at once. But he gets stumped, staring at the screen in front of him, unsure whether the chair he’s been mulling over for the past half hour is gorgeous or gaudy.

He should focus on bringing the living room together since it’s where they do the bulk of their entertaining, provided they ever start entertaining again. And he should do something about the master bedroom, which, for the moment, houses a bed, a TV, and a dresser within the confines of four ashy walls.

Opinions on the topic vary, but Kurt has always felt that the bedrooms are the heart of the home. They’re sanctuaries where dreaming, planning, and affirmation happen. He only has the one to worry about, so he should put extra effort into making it comforting, relaxing, sensual on the off chance he ever plans on touching his husband again.

The jury is still out on that one, unfortunately.

The kitchen, he’s not looking forward to decorating. Aside from his studio, he and Grace spent much of their time together in the kitchen. They baked daily: cakes, cookies, bread, and anything else they could slop onto a baking sheet and shove into the oven. They also made jam, pickled fruit, and taught themselves (using YouTube videos mainly) to prepare various types of cuisine. Some were a hit, others a miss, but it was always an adventure.

Kurt had done something similar with his mother and her collection of vintage cookbooks, congregating around the kitchen island in the afternoons to shed the angst of public school, and spread the wings of his stifled creativity. He and his mother discussed everything in the kitchen while sifting flour and creaming butter. It was a tradition he had so looked forward to continuing.

Now, he’d rather not be bothered going into the kitchen again.

He could pick a page out of the IKEA catalog and recreate it. That should offend him. It did when Sebastian suggested it the first time Kurt redecorated their penthouse. But Kurt hardly cares. It doesn’t matter as much as it did. He can’t remember the last time he stepped into the kitchen and prepared anything more elaborate than toast and coffee, maybe dry scrambled eggs. Sebastian took over cooking duties after Grace died, which, nine times out of ten, means ordering out, if for no other reason than he gets to leave the house to pick up the food.

He knows Kurt appreciates the time alone more than he does a home-cooked meal.

Then there’s Sebastian’s office, which Kurt is decorating for the first time. He has tried to start a shopping cart for it numerous times, but, unlike the windfall of ideas he had for his studio, he can’t get into a groove. He remembers a time when thinking about decorating Sebastian’s office put a hundred ideas into his head.

Currently, he has only one.

The cheap, vomit-worthy, knock-off furnishings of the no-tell hotel room he pictures whenever he thinks of Sebastian sleeping with another man.

Kurt shivers in disgust. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.

The room or the infidelity.

But how would Sebastian react if Kurt decorated his office to look like the business suite at the Marriott?

Kurt snickers, envisioning the sitcom-worthy shock that would erupt on Sebastian's face if he presented that to him.

"As you can see," Kurt would say, strolling through the room with his head held high atop the straightest spine pettiness can deliver, "I have chosen the most flame-retardant carpet available in subtle hues of tan and beige, a color combination well suited for concealing cum stains. This ergonomic, curved leather loveseat, for when you want to get adventurous with your afternoon romps, which, at your age, requires plenty of lumbar support. Plus, it cleans up in a snap with just a Clorox wipe, so that's a useful feature. Faux fireplace, faux aquarium, faux chandelier... are we sensing a theme? And in the corner, I've provided you a foldout of your own, for when you bring... ahem... work home."

The grin on Kurt's lips slides when Sebastian, wearing a gutted expression, pops to mind. It's an expression that Kurt didn't believe possible for Sebastian till their daughter died. He's only seen it once. He doesn't want to bring it back.

He sighs.

Revenge-dreaming isn't helping.

It isn't as satisfying as he thought it would be.

He’s not breaking through his creative block anytime soon. He puts his plans for the other rooms on the back burner and decides to spend time picking out furniture for his studio. With the exception of his sewing machines, he didn’t bring anything from his penthouse studio here, so he’s starting over fresh. He switches tabs and starts filling his online shopping cart with the basics: a new drafting table, a cabinet, a chair he’ll have to custom-upholster, a bolt of drapery fabric he can repurpose to make a bedspread (if he goes through with his plans for a foldout), and a few other miscellaneous odds and ends, nothing worth wasting too much brain-power over.

The clunk-clunk of Sebastian stacking cans in the kitchen cabinets reaches Kurt upstairs, as does the water running in the sink while he washes dishes and the squeak of the sticky pantry door when he fixes it. Kurt plans on redoing the kitchen and giving the entire room a facelift. Sebastian knows that. But repairing the door gives Sebastian something to do.

Sebastian has been considerate enough to let Kurt do his thing undisturbed for the morning. Kurt’s reluctance to talk to anyone extends to Sebastian, which Sebastian understands. He’s keeping his distance. But it’s nice to hear him puttering around the house. It gives Kurt comfort, the same way listening to his father snore in the middle of the night helped Kurt feel less alone after his mother died.

He may want to be left alone, but it’s nice to know that he’s not alone.

Especially not today.

Today did not start out good for Kurt.

Kurt woke up later than he’d intended, and when he did, he couldn’t remember where he was. Sebastian had woken up and gotten out of bed hours earlier, leaving Kurt alone to sleep in. Kurt climbed out of bed and wandered around frightened, hands crawling along the walls, searching for something familiar. Footsteps passed somewhere underneath him, and he froze. He didn’t want to venture downstairs because he didn’t know who could be there. Maybe someone had broken in, or worse - this was somebody else’s house, and Kurt was the intruder.

His heart raced. He started hyperventilating. He went from room to room, trying to figure out where he was and why he was there. It wasn’t until the second time he went into his studio that he began to remember. He saw his bag on the floor and, beside it, his sketchbook. He remembered sitting in there the day before, making plans. He remembered the wood grain of the floor, the dusty glass, the tree outside, the wallpaper, and that ripped corner by the window, which Kurt refuses to acknowledge any more than he has to.

He feels it behind him, like the sun on his back, trying to get him to turn his face to it, but he refuses. Of all the things he needs to deal with, that ripped corner and the word beneath it don’t make the list. It isn't doing the palpitations in his chest any favors.

It confuses him.

It angers him.

It saddens him.

It makes him consider what could have been, forces him to face everything he's lost. He didn't succeed in running away from his problems. He ran headlong into brand new ones.

But this is his house. He has to get used to it.

These episodes aren’t uncommon. They crop up whenever Kurt needs to adapt to change. They’re unexpected, like mines in fields he discovers he’s been running through when a second ago he was picking flowers in the park or strolling down the street.

It's their unpredictability that is the true torture.

They show up even on his good days.

His life for the last ten years revolved around his daughter. When she was a baby, he adjusted his work schedule to match her sleep schedule. They had the money to afford the best nurses in New York, but Kurt didn’t want that. He didn’t want his daughter raised by a governess. He was as hands-on a parent as there ever was.

As Grace grew, her schedule changed, and Kurt adjusted: daycare, Gymboree, kindergarten, ballet, elementary school. He dropped her off in the mornings, then picked her up in the afternoons. They spent the rest of the day going over her homework until it was time to make dinner, which they did together.

That was the great thing about being a designer and freelance editor. Kurt could work from anywhere, and, aside from doing consultations at Vogue, he could work any time.

When Grace became sick, her doctor visits and her medication regimen dictated Kurt's schedule, then her chemo.

Towards the end, there was only one item written in Kurt’s schedule - lie beside his daughter in her bed, holding on to her for dear life.

And not just her life.

His, too.

In sickness and in health, Grace kept Kurt’s life regulated.

Things flipped drastically when she died.

He felt adrift. Detached from the life he had gotten used to, he didn’t know what to latch on to. His internal clock would wake him up at six to get Grace ready for the day, only to find himself walking into a vacant bedroom. At the supermarket, he would grab her favorite cereal out of habit and put it in his cart, even though it wasn’t on the list. He would jolt when he'd come across a song he thought she’d like or saw an advertisement for a movie he thought she’d enjoy.

He has yet to stop the automatic deposits from his bank account to hers, her weekly allowance piling up on top of birthday and Christmas money. She had earmarked it for college (her decision, not his). Now it waits to be donated to the children’s hospital that took such incredible care of her. He doesn’t have the heart to empty it. She was so proud of it.

He doesn’t know what it will do to him to see the balance at zero.

But the worst moment of all, the absolute worst, was when he tried to go back to work right after they lost her.

There are many moments after Grace’s death, during Kurt’s own struggle for acceptance, that blur together, but this one he remembers so vividly, it brings a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes.

He was in the middle of a brainstorming session with his team. His boss Isabelle was there. She had dropped by with a box of cronuts and a grande nonfat mocha. Kurt hadn’t been eating. Everyone could tell. But Kurt overlooked the signs – the sharper than normal angle to his cheekbones and chin, his collarbone that showed through his skin a little too much, his hands that never stopped shaking. He had waved the food away when she offered.

An hour later, he was on his third one.

The tension of his presence in the office so soon after his daughter’s death slowly dissipated, making way for the familiar, though attenuated, back and forth banter he had so missed. Without knowing it, he was paving the way for a potential comeback. He wouldn’t have a line up for a while, and he would need to keep an eye on fashion trends as they came and went in his absence. But this, this felt so natural, so normal, it almost seemed like it was. He got caught up in the rhythm of this impromptu jam session. He smiled, he laughed.

He felt alive again.

Somewhere in the middle of outlining a rough schedule, he glanced down at the time on his phone. Mid-sentence, he got up from his chair and walked over to get his coat off the hook by the door.

“Alright,” he said with a chuckle over Chase’s last clap back at a jab from his boyfriend Ian, “thanks for everything, you guys, but I’ve gotta run. We’ll talk about this more when I come in tomorrow.”

The room went pin-drop silent. Kurt didn’t notice.

“Where are you going?” Isabelle asked, getting up from her seat on the corner of his desk and approaching, knowing that he would need her in a second, the way she always knew. Kurt has referred to Isabelle as his Fairy Godmother ever since he first walked into Vogue fresh out of high school and trying to find a foothold in the hectic Gulf Stream that is New York City. She became his pillar of support, a sympathetic ear, and a clear head whenever he needed one. She had thrown his bachelor party. Hers was the condo he stayed in the night before his wedding. She’d hosted Grace’s baby shower.

Also, Grace’s wake.

She didn’t have children of her own and didn't plan on it, but she loved Grace as much as anyone.

And hers was the shoulder Kurt cried on when he found out Sebastian had cheated.

Kurt looked at her, confused, wondering why it was that everyone around him seemed to be holding their breath. “I just… have to go pick up Grace. From school. I’m going… I’m going to be late.”

Isabelle shook her head and put a hand on his. “Sweetie… ”

It took Kurt a second.

Even after one person gasped and another sniffled, with Isabelle’s sorrowful eyes staring at him, begging him to remember so she wouldn’t have to say it, he didn’t catch on.

When he did, it hit him like an electric shock straight through his body, rendering his muscles useless, and he crumbled to the floor. Isabelle held him for over an hour in that spot until Sebastian arrived. Kurt didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go to their empty penthouse and face the truth about his empty life. He wanted to stay at Vogue with Isabelle and live in that moment where everything was alright again for one shimmering second, even if it wasn’t real.

But he had to go. He had to leave with Sebastian, who had hurt him, back to his home, even if it killed him because even though he felt like his life was over, everything else continued on. People lived, and people died. The sun set in the evening, but in the morning, it would rise again.

He just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.

Not without his Grace.

He was cried out by the time Sebastian got him home. Sebastian undressed him, helped him with his cleaning and moisturizing routine, and then put him to bed. It was Friday evening when Kurt shut his eyes and went to sleep. He lived that horrible moment at his office over again a hundred times before he opened his eyes. And when he did, it was Sunday morning.

Like this morning, but to a greater extent, when these attacks happen, locked in his own brain, sifting through the pieces to find one big enough and sturdy enough to hold on to, Kurt loses time.

In a blink, hours go by, sometimes a day. He’ll climb in the shower in the morning, turn the water on hot, and by the time he realizes it’s cold, it’s close to noon. He has sat at the dining room table for breakfast, staring at a bowl of oatmeal, and when he found the will to pick up the spoon, the oatmeal was old and stiff, and it was dinner time. He’s gone to bed on Monday and stared at the black behind his eyelids till Wednesday.

As far as Kurt knows, it’s only around lunchtime, but he glances at the clock in the corner of his screen to make sure.

12:45.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He double-checks the date to make sure he has a reason to and sighs again.

Still Tuesday.

Kurt switches back to the IKEA tab he’d been laboring long but not hard on earlier. He looks at the shopping cart he’s been steadily filling, scrolls through his selections of personality bereft, assembly line furniture, and groans. This isn’t him. This house, this blank slate, should be an endless fount of motivation.

But he's numb.

Maybe he's rushing into this. He should give this house and the neighborhood time to grow on him before he sentences it to the mundane.

He needs a break. (Kurt Hummel need a break from shopping? Since when?) He flips to a new page in his sketchbook. For shits and giggles, he tries drawing a sketch for his husband’s office. He starts with the easy part – Sebastian’s desk. Sebastian didn’t leave that in the penthouse, so Kurt will make it the linchpin and design around it.

Things flow surprisingly easily from there once he gets started, with a pencil in his hand writing on paper instead of working on a screen: an ornamental rug, a matching leather chair, burgundy velvet curtains, a chainmail style Tiffany desk lamp, 1930s art deco décor with a soupcon of Persian flair. But he doesn’t want the room to be too dark. No. Kurt wants nothing in their house to be dark. He adds a Salento chandelier over the open portion of the room and a sweep of color – one wall, opposite a window, a lighter shade than the rest. He doesn’t know what Sebastian’s office looks like, but there has to be a wall in there that will fit the bill.

An enamel and copper vase, a Khatam inlaid photo frame, a few Negar Gari…

Kurt stops.

Would Sebastian want that? The softer elements countering the strict lines of the art deco pieces, what could be described as feminine influences, are Kurt’s signature touch. But might Sebastian prefer the art deco without Kurt’s fingerprints all over it? Isn’t that what Sebastian meant by Kurt being heavy-handed with the pastels?

Back in high school, Kurt had decorated his bedroom so that he and his stepbrother could share it. He'd skipped school so he could complete it in one day. He’d worked hard on it, trying to fuse a masculine air with his theatrical influence. What he thought was an eclectic representation of the masculine and the feminine turned into a Moroccan-themed disaster.

The word his stepbrother chose to use at the time was faggy, but there were ulterior motives behind it.

Sebastian made jabs in high school about Kurt not wearing boy clothes, comments that adult Kurt recognizes as the teenage boy equivalent of pulling Kurt’s pigtails. But at the time, they stung. Sebastian wouldn’t have made those comments if there weren’t a grain of truth to them, would he?

Sebastian has never retracted those statements, so as far as Kurt is concerned, they stand.

Kurt flips his pencil over and starts erasing. He’ll pare down the extras – trade the Tiffany lamp for a banker’s lamp, replace the rug with something more Brooks Brothers than Pier 1.

Maybe he should just opt for another IKEA recreation, but that feels like copping out, going back on his word.

He could always ask Sebastian. He swears his husband has passed by a few times, his footsteps rising and falling outside his door, but Kurt didn’t think anything of it. He figures Sebastian is passing through on his way to get something from the bedroom that he needs downstairs. Kurt doesn’t imagine the man is pacing the hallway, even if he is, trying to find a way to tell Kurt that lunch is ready. Little things like lunch, innocuous things, have become huge divides over the past few months. With anyone else, Sebastian has a history of railroading over them, hurt feelings be damned.

But Sebastian has learned his lesson. He paid a hefty price learning it, too.

Contemplating between clearing his throat so that Kurt knows he’s there and letting another meal go cold, he sees Kurt’s head lift up. It seems like an opening. Whether or not it is, Sebastian takes it.

“Lunch is ready.”

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt mumbles, brushing eraser shavings aside.

“Are you… are you coming downstairs?”

Kurt erases again, then pencils something on a sheet of paper that Sebastian can’t see. “Hmm… mmm?”

It sounds like a question and an answer, but since Kurt doesn’t follow it up with anything, it most likely means that Kurt will be skipping lunch… again. Sebastian knocks idly on the door frame, giving Kurt a second longer to tell him for sure.

“Alright.” Disappointed, he turns to leave. “I guess I’ll come back up at dinner then.”

Kurt doesn’t know why the thought returns when he wasn’t even thinking about it, why it decided to nag at his brain when he had been able to ignore it for this long, but that’s the way his brain works now. His thoughts don’t always travel straight paths. They twist and turn, taking one thing and linking it to something unrelated. Erasing the ideas he’d sketched out, removing every inch of himself from Sebastian’s office, made him think about how eager he was to be rid of that word darling from above the window, and that ripped corner returns to his mind with a vengeance.

Well, as long as Sebastian is there, he might as well ask.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian pauses in the doorway, not daring to move. “Yes?”

“When was the last time you were here?” Kurt raised an eyebrow at the idea when it originally came to him. When would Sebastian have come to this house that Kurt didn’t know? They traveled Upstate once a year, but they always did it together as a family. And while they were here, Sebastian rarely ventured out alone. Sebastian isn’t the kind of person who would buy a house sight unseen.

Unless he had found it during one of his outings with Grace. Which would mean that Grace had seen the inside.

Grace would have seen this room and thought it would be hers, thought that they would someday live here, and Sebastian hid that word darling by the window for her and not Kurt.

The thought is so painful, it makes Kurt want to tear his nails out with his teeth so he’ll stop thinking about it.

Sebastian keeps his eyes locked to Kurt’s profile so he won’t miss the moment Kurt decides to look at him instead of the floor, the wall, or the ceiling.

“I found this house online. It wasn’t even on the market when I stumbled on it. To be honest, I’d only driven by it once. I hadn’t been inside until we moved in.”

“But you saw the inside,” Kurt asks. “Otherwise, how would you know about this room?”

“I took a virtual tour,” Sebastian admits sheepishly, “but it was extremely thorough. I’ve seen the blueprints, gone over the permits and the zoning. I had Tristan from the office look over the place when he came up to visit his folks. He facetimed me while he was here.” Sebastian furrows his brow. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Kurt’s heart beats regular again. Grace hadn’t seen it.

Thank God.

His eyes find the torn section of wallpaper, but they don’t stay there. He doesn’t want to clue Sebastian in about it if Sebastian doesn’t already know. He wants to uncover this mystery on his own. If Sebastian gets to keep secrets, big ones at that, then Kurt wants this one for himself.

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just curious, you know. Wanted to understand your process. Why this house, why this neighborhood, that sort of thing.”

Kurt’s sentence comes out choppy. It’s odd how awkward talking has become for them. Sebastian used to think that the two things they had mastered were talking and fucking. They did both together with such ease. There were never any boundaries between them, emotionally or physically. Even when they were cutting each other down, which they did in the beginning, they did so with such finesse.

Not like now, when Sebastian is walking on eggshells and Kurt doesn’t want to hear half of what he has to say.

“If you come down for lunch, we can talk about my process. If you’re curious, that is.” Sebastian watches Kurt expectantly, waiting for an answer.

And while Sebastian does, Kurt looks at his sketch – Sebastian’s office, the same way Sebastian always has it decorated. This is Sebastian without him and Grace: bland and emotionless, no light, little color, and no joy. Nothing exciting, nothing nuanced, nothing to indicate that he and Sebastian are together.

Not even those snapshots he’s so proud of.

Kurt hasn’t decided whether that’s a bleak picture or not.

“Sure. I’ll be down in a sec,” Kurt decides because he does and doesn’t have an answer to that one. It changes as the day changes, and the days change too quickly.

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.” Sebastian walks away, or Kurt thinks he does. He checks the time on his clock. It’s closing in on 2.

Kurt glances up at the window, the dangling wallpaper bouncing with the breeze coming from a draft near the ceiling. It would be so easy to tear it down – grab an edge and rip, be done with it once and for all. It might even feel cathartic, exposing whatever is underneath it. But lunch is ready. He’s already left Sebastian waiting long enough.

He leaves that mystery for another day.

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #sebastian smythe #kurt hummel

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catzula · 4 years

Text

How to cure a broken heart

Synopsis: love might come in in various shapes. With Kuroo it came with a snowball.

Honorable mentions: tw cursing, it's 2.4k words, genre is fluff, hope you guys like it!!

Its a short lil fluffy Kuroo blurb since its snowing very heavy here and I kinda broke your hearts with that last angst lol

You never thought you were the type to partake in something so cliche, something as falling in love with your next-door neighbor. It was overused at this point, it wasn't even your favorite trope to read anymore, and you would've died laughing if someone told you you would meet the guy you fell in love with like this.

But overused as it is, it still came in as a surprise, and that was Kuroo Tetsurou for you, managing to make even the most monotonous thing surprising.

It was the morning after a night of heavy snow, hearing the rustle of walking on fresh, unpressed snow beneath your feet making you bite back a smile. It had been a while since it snowed this much where you lived, so you didn't refuse when your mother offered you to take a walk.

I'm sure you'll feel better if you take a breath of fresh air, she told you, taking note of your foul mood.

She was right, it smells like winter, and the familiar smell didn't fail to make you take a breath of relief, as if you were suffocating the past few days.

It had been a while since you even left your house, you realized, even before the quarantine started, you weren't the type to go out and socialize around the block. You usually met with your friends at a cafe around your school or an arcade or something, but it was rare for you to hang out in your neighborhood area, thus ended with you not knowing any of your neighbors.

You had never intended to get to know them either, but it wasn't your choice to make anymore when you noticed a perfect sphere of snowball flying towards you, you dodged it the last second with reflexes you didn't even know you had (you didn't. it was pure luck).

As you turned to where the snowball came from, your eyes locked on a smug, sneaky grin, obviously amused by the shocked expression on your face. It was a boy about your age, leaning proudly on a snowman that was almost as tall as him, his smile more noticeable even than his odd, inky black ruffle of hair or the piercing golden eyes that had something of a clever glint to them.

His grin felt infectious, and you could feel a smile tugging on the corners of your lips, and it was the smile that would never fail to make you smile back, except for that particular day.

It hadn't made you smile, nor had it disputed the mean frown on your lips as you quirked a brow at him, only making his grin spread wider on his lips. "Sorry," he muttered, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, nor had he stopped smiling teasingly. "Didn't mean to throw it at you."

You took the apology with a soft nod, turning your back to him, and started walking, sighing when you felt a hand tap your arm gently.

"Hey, me again." He grinned, and you mustered a smile. "Hi." You answered back, pressing your lips together awkwardly.

"I'm Kuroo Tetsurou," he informed you. "Your next door neighbor, I think."

"Y/N, L/N." You answered, "nice to meet you, Kuroo-san."

"Nice to meet you, too." He then tilted his head, eyes grazing on you for another while, and he looked like he wanted to talk even more even though the conversation was very obviously over. "That was pretty impressive, you know?" Another smile formed on his lips as he scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes away from you, and you could feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Thanks. Your snowman is pretty impressive, too." It was. The guy was almost 2 meters, and it made no sense for the snowman to be as tall as him, too, but it still was pretty impressive.

Not expecting him to throw his head back and start laughing loudly at your comment, you couldn't help but watch him like you were witnessing some miracle. You couldn't look away as he bent forward, holding his stomach all the while his body shook. It was infectious, you realized, since you also found yourself chuckling not half a minute later.

He took a deep breath as his laughter died, still chuckling now and then, he turned to you. "It is impressive, isn't it? Had nothing better to do in quarantine, you know?" He shrugged, trying to look modest, but he beamed with pride.

He weaved his hand through the raven locks of hair that fell on his face, making you wonder if they were as soft as they looked. You quickly discarded the idea.

"Well, I won't bother you any longer." He grinned, "but I'll see you around!"

You watched him as he turned his back to you, giving you just a second to admire how tall and broad he was before he flashed you one last smile and a wave.

You found yourself still smiling as you entered your house, tapping your feet on the wood to rustle off the snow off your shoes.

"Wow, maybe I should take a walk, too." Your mother teased when she took note of your smile and relaxed posture. "Did you have fun?"

"I met our next-door neighbor today." You told her after nodding your head. "The poor boy, approaching you at your moodiest. I hope he's still in one piece." She teased, brows quirking when you laughed along instead of protesting.

"Have you met him already?"

"Yeah, we crossed paths once or twice, cute boy. I think he studied in Nekoma Highschool?" She shrugged when she couldn't remember clearly. "Still, it's nice to see he was able to make you smile."

He was nice, you had to admit. Maybe you would pay him a visit to apologize for your -slightly- rude behavior today? Nah, you'd rather wait till the next time you crossed paths, you decided.

As you averted your eyes to the wall both the houses shared, you thought if you'd cross paths soon.

You did. The next day, if you wanted to be exact.

You were startled by the sounds coming from the bushes separating your garden from your neighbors, rasing from your chair, you gazed from the window to see what it was, only to see a head of messy black hair poking through the leaves.

It was impossible not to smile as you watched him lean towards something you couldn't quite see, reaching his hand to your garden and making kissing noises with a desperate expression on his face. "Mika," you heard him call out, "come here boy, that's not our garden."

It was a cat, you realized. (Either that, or he was a pervert.) Taking a breath of relief when you saw the furry tail of the animal, you thought it was time to show yourself (and tease him about it if you could)

"Kuroo-san?" You exited out to the garden, watching the boy as his eyes widened with shock, his body immediately pulling himself back, only to stay stuck between the branches of the bush. You stifled your laughter as he forcefully pulled his way out of it, cursing at the branches scratching him, his face flushing either because of the challenge he gave trying to free himself or of embarrassment.

"H-hi." He muttered as he finally regained his composure, tall enough to have a comfortable conversation with you over the bushes. (He could even lean in to kiss you over them without any problem, something you discovered sometime in the future)

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, still laughing as you watched him pull a small branch out of his hair.

"Yeah, I'm okay. More than okay, I was just- my cat ran into your garden, and I was trying to pull him back." He stammered as he noticed your chuckles. "Cat?" You repeated innocently.

"Yeah, my cat, he's right here- Mika?"

You couldn't hold your laughs back when you saw the baffled look on his handsome face when he noticed the cat wasn't there or anywhere to be seen.

"I swear he was right here!" He exclaimed, panicking. "I wasn't trying to peek in your garden, my cat- he- he-" He stopped his panicked explanation when he finally noticed how hard you were laughing. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"Yup, saw the whole thing." You answered between your occasional chuckles. "Wow, how mean!" He frowned, but you could tell he also found the situation amusing.

"You know, you didn't have to push through the bushes." You snickered. "you could just come in from the door like a normal person." A slight shade of red tinted his cheeks with your words, averting his eyes in embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's probably a better idea."

It had turned into a routine quickly after that. Kuroo would knock on your window, a grin plastered on his face and waving at you from the other side of the glass.

At first, he always had some excuse, sometimes showing up with a plate of freshly baked cookies, telling you his grandma had cooked a little too much. "I'm sure you could smell them baking, and I didn't want you to miss out on the best cookies ever." He would beam. You didn't miss out on the smile that adorned his lips when you told him you could make coffee for the both of you and you could eat it together.

Talking with Kuroo was relaxing, at the very least.

He was a good listener, and his presence enough was soothing. He could calm you when you felt stressed, oddly good at it, too, laughing when you told him that one day. "I have a friend like this." He had shrugged. "A childhood friend, we used to live pretty close, too. I got used to it after a while, I guess."

He would watch you with thoughtful eyes as you spoke as if you were saying the most important thing, even if you were telling him about your day.

Kuroo was also one of the funniest people you knew. He had so many stories from when he was the captain of his volleyball team in high school, the things he told you always making you have a stomach ache from laughing so hard.

A friendship developing so quickly, it would usually end with you getting scared and pushing people who were getting so dear to you away from you, afraid of trusting them, even more than you did.

But not with him, you couldn't, wouldn't. Trusting Tetsurou didn't feel terrifying like it did with everyone else, instead, it felt good. It felt so safe, so cherishing to finally be able able to trust someone with everything you had, and you had never felt this protected and secure being so vulnerable with anyone.

It was the next winter you showed up in his garden, picking up snow from the ground and working on it for a few minutes to make sure you had two perfect spheres you felt all warm inside despite the cold weather.

Throwing the first snowball on his window, you grinned to yourself as you waited for the boy to come out, waiting for the chance to catch him off guard and hopefully manage to hit him square in the face.

Your eyes narrowed when he didn't come out after a few minutes, grabbing more snow from the ground and throwing another snowball on the window. This one you had sent a bit harder, and he must've heard it if he was at home.

When he didn't come out after that either, you frowned, standing up. Just then, you noticed a snowball flying towards you, dodging it the last second before turning that way with wide eyes.

"No-" You managed to choke out before the grinning boy wrapped his arms around you, caging your body against his, and threw himself on the snow, pulling you with him to be buried in the snow together.

"Tetsu!" You whined, even though you were laughing so hard that you were gasping for air. "That wasn't fair!"

"And yours was?" He laughed, his body still over yours, making it hard to breathe for you. "Get off me, I can't breathe." You managed to choke out between your laughter, your eyes lingering on his smiling lips that were a few inches away from yours.

"Because I'm so handsome?" He teased.

"No, because you're heavy." You answered, laughing even more when he faked a gasp.

"So mean, always breaking your boyfriend's heart." He shook his head side to side, not moving an inch that would allow you to squirm out from under his body.

"Come on," you whined, emphasizing the last word. "Lemme breathe!"

"Nope! You broke my heart, so painful that I can't breathe, either! It's only fair, chibi-chan." He grinned, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, okay." You sighed. "What do you want?" You already knew what he wanted since ever since he had crushed you beneath his, his eyes had never left your lips.

"Let me think. How can you cure a broken heart?"

He had his answer when you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his smiling, soft ones.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo x you #kuroo scenarios #kuroo fluff

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