#your birthday was yesterday and i spent the entire day with you i bought everything for snacking why are you angry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

World Turned Upside Down

Prequel: Used To

Sequel: My Forever

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) Masterlist

Yelena Belova Masterlist

Requested by @stephanieromanoff and (Kind of) @venablemayfairgoode: Hi!! I absolutely LOVED ‘Used To’, and I definitely felt the reader’s pain. Could you write a part 2? Like, maybe while going away from everything, reader finds Yelena and they start a relationship?

Word Count: 7.4k (long but a masterpiece of angst and fluff)

A/N: Two whole weeks of effort, literally, so worth it. I hope you feel the same after reading it.

Edit: The post seems to have deleted itself so I’m reposting it

Golden light filtered through the windows, illuminating the quiet of your apartment; the light fell on your eyes. You opened them slowly and looked around the room. The windows showed the rest of the world slowly waking up, the cars whirring by as other people's lives took their normal turn.

Breathing in slowly, you turned around slowly. The sheets shuffled underneath you, tangling your legs further into them. Turning to face the blonde in front of you, a small smile graced your lips. Fingertips grazed over her cheek as you moved the hair away from her face.

Shuffling closer to your sleeping girlfriend, your smile broadened as you noticed she was still sleeping. It wasn’t frequent that you woke up before Yelena, but you loved every second of it. Your fingers ran across her relaxed features before settling around her cheek.

Your fingertips trailed down her cheekbone onto her shoulder, till your hand was ghosting across her chest. Her heartbeat sounded just underneath your fingers, bringing a sense of comfort to you. Toying with a strand of hair on her neck, her eyes began to flutter open slowly.

Taking in a breath, her eyes opened to see you watching her. Your eyes held open affection, a gaze she found herself seeking comfort in. Hazel eyes scanned your features, she shifted to see you better. Legs tangled with yours over the sheets, the touch bringing you back to her.

“Morning,” Yelena whispered, her voice raspy from waking up. You hummed in response, fingers gently toying with her hair as a comfortable silence blanketed it you.

Soft breaths resounding in your ears as thoughts continued to run through your mind. Thoughts of a certain redhead. She had called you, more than once, more than you had expected. Even after five years, you found it hard not to pick up.

The voicemails remained on your phone. Her voice asking you to come back, telling you that it had been long enough. You could barely stop thinking about it.

Yelena saw that something was bothering you, but she never asked. She knew you would tell her once you thought it over. Her trust made you comfortable enough to think about going back. But the thought of seeing her again made you stop.

“Breakfast?” Yelena asked, a small smile as your fingertips ran across her skin. Taking your fingers away from her hair, you gave her a small nod. Mirroring her smile, you moved to get off the bed.

Untangling your legs from the sheets, you smoothened out your clothes. Though, it hardly made a difference. The clothes were all Yelena’s, not that she minded. Everything she wore was yours, even the oversized sweatpants.

Moving your hair away from your face, you followed the blonde into the kitchen. You knew she didn’t eat much for breakfast, but she insisted on trying to make you something anyway. Taking a seat on the kitchen island, you fidgeted with your hands as your girlfriend started on breakfast.

Bread in the toaster, two cups of coffee brewing, eggs cooking on the stove. Yelena put the eggs on a plate and sighed as she turned around. You were still staring at your hands, refusing to disturb the silence surrounding both of you.

“Something on your mind?” Yelena asked softly, setting your plate in front of you along with your coffee.

You didn’t seem to hear her, snapping out of your daze as you looked up to face her. A smile formed on your face before you noticed she had asked you something.

“Sorry?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Yelena chuckled, picking up her toast and setting it down next to her coffee. Taking a seat in front of you, she set one hand down in the middle of the table. Her foot bumped yours gently as she sat down.

“I asked what was going on in this beautiful head of yours.” She asked, her hand gesturing to your head.

You smiled at the compliment, the expression disappearing as you looked down at your food. Your fork prodded the eggs, playing with them. Another silence settled around the room as she waited for you to speak. You set down your fork and let out a sigh, gaining the courage to finally tell her.

“She called me.” You stated, your voice strained and tight as the words left your lips.

The blonde frowned for a moment until she understood who you were referring to. To you, her name would never be mentioned, when you talked about it, it was always ‘she’ and ‘her’. Her hand gently came onto yours, thumb running across your knuckles to show she was listening.

“She wants me to come back,” You continued, breath shaky as you spoke. “she says it’s been long enough.”

Yelena nodded at your words, letting them sink in. A squeeze to your hand brought your eyes up to hers. You looked uncertain of what you wanted to do next. The blonde tilted her head to the side as she resumed running her thumb over the skin of your hand.

“Do you want to go back?” She asked gently.

Her question was what you’d been asking yourself since the first time she called you. Were you ready to see her again? Should you let your absence remain for longer? A part of you wanted to go back to where you used to call home.

But this was home, this huge apartment you’d bought with Yelena.

“I’m not sure,” You admitted, sighing. “do you want to go there?”

The blonde considered it, licking her lips slowly. She seemed to weigh her words carefully, to tell you what she wanted, and if she wanted to see her sister again.

“I would like to see Natalia again,” Yelena confessed, watching your expression falter. “, but only if you’re okay with it.”

“You know I won’t keep you from your family.” You found yourself answering before you could process her words.

Natalia, you’d never called her by her true name, scared it was too close to her. it was the first time you’d heard her name in years. The last time being when you told Yelena about what happened between her and you.

“Then why should she keep you from yours?” Yelena asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, considering her words. A light chuckle left you as you recalled the last words you’d said to her.

‘If the entire world turns upside down’. It was so distant now, the realization, the arguing, the day you left.

“I did tell her I’d come back if the world turned upside down.” You recalled, nostalgia in your words as you turned to look out the window. Breathing in slowly, you took a moment to analyze how different your life was now.

It’s been almost four years you’ve been together, each day you spent with her you seemed to forget your life without her. Funny, it was a coincidence she showed up in your life just a month after you left Natasha. Going on a trip around Europe was an impulse decision, one of your best ones at that.

It was what you’d wanted to do with Natasha, but you ended up by yourself. Until you met Yelena at a bar. The memories of how you began seemed to fade the longer you were with her. But everything in between felt like yesterday.

Yelena had been the one to take things slow. It matched you better than you had expected. It was perfect. You needed to take things slow after everything that happened. The blonde didn’t want to rush into anything.

Sometimes, you thought maybe you were with Yelena only because she reminded you of someone you used to love. It was hardly that, being with Natasha had been something you wanted to do. With Yelena, you were surprised your life hadn’t been this way all along.

A smile crossed your face as you remembered starting to trust her. It was slow, just starting with trusting her with your nightmares, even your fears if you were sure about it. She never pushed you, never held back a secret if she thought you’d want to know.

“In a way, it did.” You commented, making your decision to return.

Yelena watched you turn back to face her, your eyes meeting hers with certainty. Your decision was made, she could change it if she wanted to. But this could be good for you, maybe it would benefit both of you. After all, there were plans you had that needed a family watching you.

“You’re sure about going back?” She asked, just to make sure. You nodded your head, palm turning upwards to take her hand into yours. Skin brushed together as your fingers ran over her skin.

“Maybe not permanently,” You gave a half shrug. “but they are my family.”

Yelena smiled at you, her other hand slowly coming up to cup yours. Her fingers toyed with yours, letting the rings on your fingers clink together softly. Wedding bands had not come in their place, not yet anyway.

“So are you.” You smiled, lacing your fingers with hers. Her smile broadened at your words, eyes glancing down to where her ring met yours. She promised you forever when you weren’t sure you could find one.

————

Your phone buzzed lightly in your hand on the drive to the compound. After messaging the rest of the team about your surprise arrival, they hadn’t stopped messaging you. The first year was the only year they tried to keep in contact with you before giving up on you.

Wanda was the only one who never gave up on it. Every holiday, every birthday, she’d send you a text and try to call you. There were never any voicemails, but the texts were there, year after year. She didn’t know if you’d read them or not but still kept sending them.

Now, there were more messages than you could count.

The only ones you paid attention to were the ones from Tony. He told you that he could get you your room back. The one you had before you moved in with a certain redhead. No one had touched it.

Scrolling through the notifications, you noticed one text from Natasha thanking you. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Stark can give me my old room back,” You said, tucking your phone in your back pocket and turning towards Yelena. She nodded, looking outside the window as the compound started to come into view.

“The one I had before moving in with her.” You continued, to try to occupy the silence in the car. The taxi driver didn’t seem to care much about who he was driving or where. Though, you supposed he expected a large tip since you mentioned Tony Stark.

“Though I don’t know how long we’ll be staying.” You continued, licking your lips dryly. Your fingers reached to fidget with your engagement ring. Twisting the ring around your finger, you clenched your jaw and turned to look out the window.

The sound of the radio the only sound filling the taxi for a few moments. Fingers laced through yours, squeezing to bring your attention to her. Turning to face her, you gave her a half-hearted smile. Yelena gave you a reassuring grin before squeezing your fingers again.

“We’ll stay as long as you want.” She whispered, bringing your hand up to meet it to her lips softly. You smiled at the comforting feeling.

Chuckling, you remembered how Yelena hadn’t been one to show affection at the starting of your relationship. You had always been one to initiate any sort of physical contact. It was only after she told you how she wanted to make sure you were comfortable did it become commonplace.

“I love you.” You whispered, a smile turning up the corners of your lips. The blonde mirrored your smile as she turned around to face you. Hazel eyes radiated warmth as she squeezed your hand again.

“I love you too,” Yelena said.

With her, it didn’t feel like you were living a lie. You didn’t have to ask her if she meant it. To her, telling you that she loved you was a promise on its own.

Smiling to yourself as she squeezed your fingers the same way as you walked towards the entrance of the compound. You were about an hour earlier than you had promised to arrive. Hardly anyone was at the front.

You began to walk inside, taking in the sight of the compound. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, music probably picked by Stark created the atmosphere as you walked inside. It was like you’d never left.

Wanda sat on the couches, talking to Clint. A fond smile twisted the corners of your lips as you made eye contact with the witch. Her eyes seemed to widen almost three times their size as she caught sight of you. Jumping out of her seat, a large grin crossed her face.

“Y/N!” Wanda exclaimed, running forwards to you.

You stumbled backward with the force of her hug, hand slipping from Yelena’s. Laughing, you hugged her back tightly. Her hands pulled you closer to her, scared you might leave if she let go of you. You smiled as her grip tightened, burrowing your face into her neck.

Her hair still smelt of the almond oil she used, along with the coconut shampoo you’d suggested to her many years ago. Some things never really change.

Clint shouted that you’d returned. You paid little to no heed to his screaming, until you heard rapid footsteps approaching you. Wanda didn’t seem to want to let go of you, despite the rest of your family coming to crowd around her.

Tapping her back lightly, she let you slip from her hold. Turning to face the team, your face grew into a huge grin. Bucky stood in the back, giving you a curt nod before moving to sit on one of the couches. Hugging the rest of the team, tears began to form in your eyes. It had been too long you were away from them.

Five years just felt like a number when you said it. But the weight of it settled on your shoulders as you talked to your family. Five was just a number, it truly had been too long.

Jokes and teasing circled in the room, Steve patted you on the shoulder with a light threat never to do this again. A part of you assumed he was joking, but he seemed too serious for you to laugh it off easily. They dragged you over to the couches.

The grin on your face grew as the compliments flew through the room. The way you looked now was far too different from when you left for them not to notice. You’d left looking as a corpse of who they used to know. Now, you were glowing with laughter and jokes as you talked with them.

Moments you knew you’d treasure flew by until they noticed Yelena standing to the side. She tried not to look awkward, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets as she watched you. You reached out a hand for her. She took it and sat down next to you, squeezing herself between you and Tony.

“Who is she?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. Her arm hooked around yours protectively, she rested her head on your shoulder.

“Yelena?” A voice sounded behind you before you could answer.

The voice was familiar, almost too familiar. Turning around your eyes caught onto the reason you’d been avoiding your family. She wasn’t the same person you’d remembered. Her hair was blonde, she still walked with confidence, but that stride broke once she saw you.

Your jaw clenched subtly, you turned back around to Wanda who looked at you in concern. Giving her a tight nod, you glanced towards Yelena. She looked from you towards her sister, uncertain if she should greet her.

Giving her a nod and a small smile, you squeezed her hand to let her know you’d be alright. Without any words exchanged, she went up to greet her.

“Natalia,” Yelena spoke, a smile slowly growing on her face at the sight of her sister. Both of them grinned at each other before hugging tightly.

Yelena was a bit stiff as she hugged her, Natasha’s unspoken mistake still loomed in the air. She hugged her tightly before letting her go. She talked to her in Russian for a bit, you couldn’t understand any of the words.

The rest of the team stared at them curiously, wondering who she was. It wasn’t until they rejoined you on the couches was it they asked. Yelena returned to your side, her hand sliding into yours by habit.

“Who is she?” Steve asked you, a frown ghosting his face. You could only assume he wanted to be protective of you again. Bucky sat at his side quietly, scared of ruining anything again.

“I’m Yelena Belova,” Yelena answered for herself, winking at you when you glanced towards her.

Another smile twisted the corner of your lips at the gesture as you looked around the rest of the team. Natasha’s features flickered for a moment, into hurt, maybe even fear. You couldn’t tell, she put up her mask again.

“How do you know y/n?” Tony asked, leaning forwards and letting his elbows rest on his knees. He looked at her as if he was judging her. You chuckled and patted Yelena’s thigh comfortingly before speaking.

“Guys stop interrogating her.” You chided, watching Tony chuckle before leaning back into the couch.

You weren’t sure why you were protective of Yelena. They were your family. After all, you doubted they were going to chase her away. Even if they could, you weren’t sure they would want to.

Starting a conversation with them, you joked around for a bit before roping Yelena into the conversation. It flowed easily; she added to the stories you told and the comments you made. The stories you told weaved together flawlessly.

Natasha wasn’t paying any attention to the story, her eyes staring at the engagement ring on your finger. Yelena’s hand was intertwined with yours, denying her view to see the ring she was sure was there. She wanted to say something, maybe congratulate you, lie that she was happy for you.

The words were already dry in her mouth as she stared. She was the first to notice the engagement, but the last to comment on it.

“Y/n/n you’re engaged?!” Wanda exclaimed, noticing the ring when you made a gesture with your left hand.

She took your hand in hers, jaw almost dropping over the size of the ring. Gorgeous was hardly the word to describe it. It was a rose gold solitaire adorned with diamonds on the band. The diamonds looked like they were woven into the band itself.

A grin plastered itself onto your face as the rest of the team started to fawn over your ring. Before any of them could ask who you were engaged to, Yelena put her hand next to yours. A ring was placed on her finger as well.

“We are,” Yelena stated, her grin matching yours as you turned to face her.

Neither of you seemed to notice Natasha sitting frozen on the couches. The ring on Yelena’s finger wasn’t just any ring. It was your mother's ring, the one you’d talked about proposing with. The same ring you swore would bring luck to any wedding.

The ring she had been so sure she would wear someday.

“When?” Natasha croaked, clearing her throat after she spoke. The attention turned to her, the team glaring at her. It was as if her speaking could somehow take you away again. Maybe it could if she wasn’t careful.

“Nat,” Wanda whispered angrily, a red wisp forming on Natasha’s elbow. Natasha winced, glaring at the witch before turning back to face you. The question hung in the air for a few seconds, but you didn’t fill the silence.

“A few months ago,” Yelena answered for you. You gave her a grateful smile before turning towards the rest of the team.

Nervousness showed in your eyes as you glanced around the room. Your fiance squeezed your thigh gently, helping build up your courage for the request she knew you wanted to say. Biting your lip tightly, you took in a breath.

“We um,” You glanced at Yelena who gave you a soft smile you sought comfort in. “we wanted you to come to our wedding.”

A moment of quiet passed over your words before happiness and laughter quickly filled the room. The rings continued to be fawned over as new wedding plans were made. Your wedding plans, even your savings for them hardly seemed to matter as Tony announced he would be paying for it. You knew you couldn’t talk him out of it, despite how you might try to.

The team talked about the kind of wedding you should have, a spring wedding, a grand ball, anything. Plans and ideas flew around the room, the only person never offering any being Natasha. She sat silently on the couch, staring at the ground.

Your eyes glanced towards her before flitting back to Yelena, smiling brightly at your fiance. The same smile you used to wear around her, the one she thought she could never get enough of. The same lovesick grin the rest of the team made fun of you for. It was for someone who wasn’t her.

Natasha got up quietly, offering Yelena a tight smile of congratulations before padding out of the room. Her footsteps hardly made any sound as she made the effort to leave your life the way it is.

The conversation flowed on behind her, your laughter floating through the room. The wedding date wasn’t fixed yet, you weren’t sure when you should have it. Better sooner than later, you never knew how long something might last.

This, your family, you hoped this would last forever.

————

The TV played on in the background as you talked to Wanda about wedding plans. She had long since agreed to become your maid of honor. The witch was adamant about making this wedding perfect, you smiled as you talked to her about the flowers for the wedding.

Yelena was still unsure about who should be her best man/woman. Natasha was her first choice for it, but she wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it. You’d told her you’d be alright with it, still, she waited in case.

The popcorn seemed to be taking a little longer than it should have. You’d offered to help her with it, but the blonde declined your offer, adamant she could do it on her own. You continued talking to Wanda about your wedding plans, unsure what kind of flowers you should have.

Wanda began saying that roses were a better idea, you weren’t paying much attention as you saw Natasha enter the room. Your eyes flitted over to her, your expression faltering for an instant. Bringing your mask back up, you nodded to Wanda to show you were listening. She didn’t buy it, glancing behind her. Noticing Natasha, she turned back to you, continuing her conversation.

“Hey, y/n…” Natasha trailed off, fidgeting with her fingers as she stood behind the couch. You turned to face her, giving her a tight nod. Wanda stopped talking, turning around to face the assassin.

“Hello.” You greeted, turning back to the movie. Even you weren’t willing to pretend everything was okay with her. The witch glanced between both of you before locking her gaze onto Natasha.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked, her weight shuffling on her feet. She glanced from you to Wanda, the witch glared at her angrily. Ignoring her gaze, she turned back to face you. You weren’t looking at her, your eyes looking at Yelena.

Your fiance gave you a supportive nod, the popcorn still in her hands. The look of concern on her face told you she would be here for you if things went south. You nodded at her, smiling gratefully then turning towards Natasha.

Your smile dissipated the instant you looked at her, your eyes which were full of adoration only moments ago were empty, too empty.

“Alright.” You nodded.

Natasha smiled at you, hoping you would return it. Your face remained blank, prompting her to lead you to somewhere more private. The assassin sighed softly, hoping you wouldn’t hear her disappointment but wanting you to.

She walked towards her room, the same room you called home before leaving. Looking inside, you saw that not much had changed. It seemed all too familiar. Everything from the decorations, to the way the bed was made, even some of the pictures were your own.

Bile rose to your throat when you looked at a picture of the two of you on your anniversary. A glass of champagne was in your hand, your lips on her cheek, the corner of your mouth quirked into a grin. A grin plastered on Natasha’s face, her arm wrapped around your waist.

You picked up the frame from her bedside, aware of Natasha’s eyes watching your movements. A sigh left your lips as you looked at it.

The moment frozen in time. You let yourself fall back into time, experiencing that night over again. How ecstatic you were about spending 3 years with Natasha, three whole years. The nervousness about the party. The emotions were still frozen in the picture, you wished you could rid yourself of them.

“What do you need to talk about?” You croaked, swallowing as you set down the picture frame. Standing awkwardly on the edge of the bed, you fidgeted with your fingers as Natasha took a seat on the bed.

“Why did you come back?” She asked, her voice betraying no emotion. You swallowed, eyes flitting towards the ground instead.

“You and I both know it’s not just because I asked you to.” She continued, eyes watching you carefully. You sighed and looked up at her, shuffling back slightly. Natasha patted the spot on the bed for you to sit, you stepped forwards, then stopped.

It was the same bed she had broken you in. The same bed you’d sworn to be by each other’s side forever. The broken promises still lingered in the air like smoke. Breathing it in, you clenched your jaw tightly. Shaking your head, you shuffled backward and leaned against the wall.

Why did you come back?

It wasn’t because she asked you to. You weren’t sure it was because you wanted your family at your wedding. maybe it was to see her again, to prove how much better you were without her.

To show her what she lost.

“Remember what I told you then?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at her. The words were a bit hazy in your mind, somewhat like a nightmare you had a long time ago.

“Will I, will I ever see you again?” Natasha asked timidly, hope underlining her tone. She couldn’t stop you from leaving her with her mistakes. All she could do was hope for your return. Upon seeing your expression, that seemed unlikely.

“If the entire world turns upside down, you might.” You said a halfhearted joke as you turned towards the door.

Leaving your things behind, leaving your entire family behind. There wasn’t anything here for you anymore.

“I don’t think I can forget,” Natasha murmured, the words as clear as day in her mind. The day you’d left, she couldn’t forget it. Your broken smile when walked out of her life haunted her, despite the pictures of your happiness she surrounded herself with.

“I told you that you might see me again if the world turns upside down.” You repeated, voice shaking. You cleared your throat, chuckling lightly as you leaned back against the wall. Your eyes roamed the room, taking in every detail before meeting Natasha’s eyes.

“It kind of did, didn’t it?” You chuckled, tilting your head.

Your life didn’t take the turn you’d expected. The plan was to marry Natasha, hopefully, grow old with her. Maybe get a house by the beach and have twins. That was what the plan had always been. It was still there, the house by the beach, the playground for your kids.

Natasha was the only change.

“I found everything I wanted in someone you consider your family.” You continued, hands moving to rest behind your back.

A smile crossed your face as you thought of Yelena. The way her lips quirked up into a smile, even at your bad jokes, the comfort of how her skin felt against yours, the sound of her voice when she’d just woken up.

She was all yours, you had the pride of calling her your fiance.

“You found something in someone I considered my brother.” You muttered, your thoughts turning towards Bucky.

Hurt flashed across your features before you masked it quickly, turning to look up at her. The blonde fidgeted at your words, nibbling her lip and looking away from you.

“Bucky and I,” Natasha began, licking her lips. “we aren’t, we aren’t together.”

Your eyebrows raised, you’d thought Bucky was who she’d be running to for comfort after you. It had only made sense that she should leave you for another relationship. But just for sex, that was lower than even you thought she could stoop.

“That’s a surprise.” You mused, turning to look away from her and the bed.

An uncomfortable silence shrouded the room, suffocating you. You didn’t know how to break it. Small talk was the last thing on your mind. Thinking you should leave, you shifted your weight and put one foot forwards before the blonde spoke.

“I’m surprised if you remember my name,” Natasha whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. A frown etched into her face as tears began to line her eyes.

“What?” You asked, hoping you heard her wrong. Her voice was rarely quiet, only taking a lower stance when she was scared. It hurt a little she was scared, or even upset because of you.

“The way you look at me,” She continued, knowing you heard her. “it’s like you don’t even remember me.”

You hesitated, letting her words take their place. Your mask dropped, eyes looking down at the ground as a sad smile twisted your lips. Of course, she would bring this up, you had never looked at her this way like she never meant anything to you.

“I used to look at you like you were my world.” You muttered, shaking your head lightly. You wished you were lying. You wished you hadn’t made her your world just to let her take it away from you.

“It’s almost ironic you took it away from me.” You whispered, looking up to face her. The mask you made just for her began to shatter. A tear slipped down your face, sliding across your face until it dropped onto the floor.

“I never meant to,” Natasha whispered, voice shaking as she saw you cry because of her, again. Her hand reached out towards your face, stopping she realized it wasn’t her place. Her words made you snap, your head whipping up to face her.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant to do Na-” You stopped yourself before you could say her name.

You didn’t know why you couldn’t say her name. You’d called her everything from Tasha to Nattie, you didn’t know why it was so hard for you. It was hardly a surprise when you couldn’t even think of her without hurting.

“Say it,” Natasha demanded, head snapping up to yours. Tears grew in her waterline, her voice breaking as she moved forwards. You swallowed thickly, pushing yourself further into the wall.

“Say my name, please.” She begged, looking up at you pleadingly. A tear slipped out of her eye, she retreated as her hands moved to wipe it away hastily.

You took in a shaky breath, wanting nothing more than to leave things the way they were. Closure was a gift you never got. The wounds were still torn open no matter how much you tried to stitch them shut. Saying her name would tear you apart, all over again.

“Does it still hurt you to think about me?” Natasha asked when you stayed silent. Her eyes looked at you imploringly, almost begging you for an answer.

How could it not hurt?

Thinking about her always brought back memories, always the good memories. The best of what you were, never the worst. The memories showed you everything you were, how she brought out the best part of you.

It also showed you what she took away.

“Yes.” You answered, just when Natasha was beginning to think you might stay silent.

Natasha flinched back as if you’d physically hurt her. Her mask was in pieces, she didn’t care about the emotions she was showing. Every attempt she made to try to calm herself, to stop feeling, it never worked.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” You asked, incredulous she had even asked you if it still hurt. The blonde didn’t respond, staying silent in fear she might hurt you more.

“You took away everything I gave you, and then more.” You said, breath leaving you in harsh pants. your hand ran through your hair as you began pacing in the room. Natasha’s eyes never left you, even as her vision grew blurry with tears.

“The peace I felt around you, the home you’d made for me,” You shouted, tears slipping down your face. “all of it.”

You wiped your face hastily with your hands, watching them come away wet with tears and mascara. All your pain was out in the open for her to see. The pain was caused by her mistakes. You cowered into yourself, leaning back against the closet.

Trying desperately to slow your breathing, you rested your head on the door. Staring up at the ceiling, you let the lights blind you for a treasured few seconds. Blinking rapidly, you looked back at Natasha. She watched you with emerald eyes you’d let yourself get lost in too many times.

“It still hurts when I think of you.” You whispered, looking her in the eyes.

Natasha’s jaw clenched, blinking to try to stop her tears. She turned around to look at the rest of the room. The pictures of you still decorated the walls the way they used to when you were still here. The decorations you’d bought for the room, even some of your clothes were in her closet.

Never could she let you go.

“I never stopped thinking of you.” She admitted, turning slowly to look back at you. It was still somewhat like a dream, to have you here with her. A dream she was too scared to wake up from to let you go.

“You should.” You said, sighing after. You backed up slightly, wiping away the remaining tears on your face.

Mascara stained your hands and your sleeves. You didn’t know what Natasha wanted from you, you could only assume she wanted you back in her life, even after you’d been adamant about keeping away.

“I’m not giving you my heart again,” You stated, glancing away from her. “it doesn’t matter what you promise me.”

Some truth remained in your words. Even if she promised you the world, or for her to be better, you wouldn’t give up your world for her again. Your heart was once something you gave away carelessly to her. You didn’t want to repeat your mistake.

“I don’t want that from you,” Natasha said, catching your attention. Your gaze flitted back to her as a confused frown ghosted your features. The frown etched itself onto your face as she let the silence slowly drag on.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, watching her wince back slightly. She straightened her stance as if she was preparing herself for something. Silence dragged on as she prepared herself for pain before finally speaking.

“I want you to forgive me.”

Your mouth opened to yell at her, to scream that what she did was near unforgivable. For her to even think that you could forgive her after everything. You’d told her what she had taken away from you, and she still thought she could be forgiven.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Natasha stated before you could speak. Her hand lifted in a plead for you to hear her out.

Your mouth closed but opened again as you considered keeping your silence. The blonde didn’t care for your silence, wanting you to hear the apology she had ran over thousands of times in her head.

“Please, I never meant to hurt you.” She repeated, knowing it wasn’t the apology you wanted to hear.

She swore she could not have prepared more for this moment. For having you in front of her so she could apologize to you. Even practicing in the mirror, over and over again didn’t help her. Seeing you in front of her, breaking all over again because she couldn’t be who you wanted her to.

It wasn’t something she had prepared for.

“Maybe it was unfair for me to fall in love with you in the first place when I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you. I’m sorry.” She apologized, guiltily shifting her feet under her. Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, she looked at them thoughtfully.

It wasn’t fair for her to try to be in a relationship when she couldn’t keep one. Maybe with you, she thought it would be different. But even you couldn’t change the mistakes she would make. Even at the start of your relationship, she knew she would hurt you somehow. You assured her that she couldn’t.

In the end, her mistakes would always come to haunt her.

“Falling in love wasn’t your mistake,” You spoke, bringing her attention up to you. “it was unfair of you to try to treasure something you knew you couldn’t keep.”

It was unfair of her, so unfair to lead you on for years, give you everything you knew you wanted. To make plans for the future, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with her, so clearly. Then to take it all away again, just because she knew she couldn’t keep you.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeated, trying to make you stay. You could see her hand reach out for you before stopping herself.

A sigh left your lips as you moved down to kneel in front of her. Your fingertips hovered over hers before moving away. You whispered to try to get her attention, it didn’t work. Your hands slid into hers, squeezing gently.

She opened her eyes in surprise, looking at your hands in hers, the engagement ring adorning your finger. Her hands gripped yours tightly as if you were a lifeline.

Tears began to fall on your hands. You wanted to try to comfort her more, but this was all you could do. It was almost as if you were leaving her all over again, promising to say out of her life.

“Natasha,” You whispered, smiling when she looked up at you. Her eyes were so soft, so vulnerable in this moment.

Your thumbs slid over the skin of her hand, you looked at her carefully. She was still the woman you’d fallen head over heels for. But Natasha couldn’t be the person you spent the rest of your life with.

“Our time is over.” You said softly, wincing when she turned away from you. More tears dropped onto your palms. Her hands held onto yours tightly, you slipped one out of her grip to turn her face towards yours.

“We had our time together,” You continued, smiling at the fond memories of her. “and yeah it was beautiful.”

This is what you’d been missing all of these years.

Letting go.

It wasn’t as easy as moving to the other side of the world. It was looking her in the eye and saying that your time was over. It was letting both of you heal from the mistakes.

“I just wish we could have lasted longer,” Natasha whispered, clinging onto your hands tightly. She’d told you before that you were the best thing that ever happened to her. You were, it was foolish of her to cut your time so short.

“Maybe, but we weren’t beautiful because we lasted.” You said, tugging her attention back up to you.

A light frown ghosted her face at your words. Your eyes gazed over her features, committing them to memory. The emerald eyes, soft cheekbones, the features you had grown to love.

“It was beautiful because it happened.” You whispered, your thumb tracing over her cheekbone gently.

A smile graced your lips, a tear falling from your eye onto your hands. A sigh left your lips as you moved up, leaning down you closed your eyes. Your lips met her forehead gently, her hands tugged you closer. You smiled, as she let go of you, letting you pull away.

A knock sounded on the door, you turned to face it, knowing it was Yelena.

“Come in.” You said, slowly wiping the tears away from your eyes. Yelena stepped into the room, taking in the scene in front of her. She glanced towards her sister wiping her face on her sleeves, giving her a sympathetic smile before turning towards you.

“Hey,” Yelena greeted, moving to slide her hand into yours. You smiled as her shoulder bumped against yours. “everything alright?”

“Yeah just,” You glanced towards Natasha. The blonde looked up at the two of you, no longer looking hurt. Instead, she looked at you with a gentle smile, finding herself finally letting go of you.

“Just catching up.” You answered, smiling up at Yelena.

She looked from you to Natasha, nodding at her sister. She would want to talk to her later, you were sure of it, but now wasn’t the time. Nodding towards the door, silently asking if you wanted to leave. You nodded letting her walk you out.

“wait.” You said, stopping in your tracks. A confused look showed on her face as your hand slipped out of hers, heading back to Natasha. Your fiance followed you back, leaning against the doorframe.

“I, I want you to come to our wedding.” You stuttered, shifting your weight. Wringing your hands together, you looked to face her. She looked unsure, her eyes glancing from your ring to her sister.

“Are you sure you want me there?” She asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. You nodded, looking back at Yelena. The blonde smiled at you, knowing it was hard for you to do this. You sought comfort in her smile, nodding again at Natasha.

“Lena considers you as her family,” You said, shrugging easily. “it’s only fair.”

Lena, the nickname was so familiar coming from you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, seeing as you didn’t answer her question. You chuckled softly at the action. She could always tell you had a different answer than what you said.

“I want you there,” You stated, watching her features light up into a smile. She nodded, looking from you to your fiance. Yelena looked certain she wanted Natasha to be there. She smiled and nodded.

“I’ll be there,” Natasha said.

You smiled in relief, waving at her as you walked out of the room. Yelena’s arm slid around your waist, her fingers reaching towards the ring you wore. Her fingers twisted them around your finger thoughtfully.

She didn’t know what you’d talked about with Natasha. But you were in a lighter mood, easily walking around the compound, telling more stories. You were more at ease, the closure bringing you in a different state of mind.

Years ago, you wouldn’t have even considered coming back here. The memories near painful for you. Now, the memories seemed like a story you told a long time ago. You thought the story had ended when you left.

But now, you’d finally let go.

In a way, it was a good thing the world turned upside down.

A/N: Please for the sake of my sanity reblog and comment and tell me what you think!!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @stephanieromanoff , @fayhar , @darkangelxoxo-blog let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

461 notes · View notes

alienaiver · 3 years

Text

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!!

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask. “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #waaaaah im so nervous about this!!!! i basically cranked it out in less than 24hrs ngl.... i had 1.5k of beautiful words before i came u #P WITH A WHOLE OTHER PLOT!!!! :-)#if any of u get the ref of the title i love u and we need to play mp together lmao <33333 #also kenhina and tsukiyachi is mentioned!#both reader and kuroo r A MESS #stay tuned for part 2!!!!!!#nohr.writing #half the battle series #im gonna dig a hole real quick to hide in hehehe #honestly im not sure this is entirely coherent i had so much.... i wanted to force into it im afraid some of it feels out of place but!!!#here we go!! face the fear lmao!!!!

93 notes · View notes

heavenlyhaechan · 4 years

Text

The Pursuit of Happiness

Pairing: Ten x Gn!Reader

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers au, fluff, a teensy tiny itty bitty basically nonexistent bit of angst,

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: very brief mentions of stress,

Rating: PG

Note: happy birthday ten!!!

The day was bright and sunny, which inconveniently contradicted your mood. You wouldn’t have to be outside for long though you reminded yourself, just long enough to get a net of clementines from the co-op down the street. This small bit of happiness would have to be enough to hold you over until finals were finished and you could finally breathe again.

The bell on the door jingled merrily, another offensive clash with your mood. You headed straight for the produce section, your eyes watching your feet as they moved you forward. You knew your way around this little shop so well you were sure you could find what you wanted with your eyes closed.

When you saw the last net of clementines sitting on the old wood shelf, the blue of the net complimenting the bright orange fruit, your heart leaped. Well maybe not leaped, but certainly sat up a little straighter. Your hand reached for them, but just before your fingertips could brush the netted plastic it was being snatched away by a quicker shopper.

Your heart sunk again as you looked up to meet the eyes of the clementine stealer. His dark bangs fell into his eyes and down his neck, and a mole stared at you from under his left eye. He looked a bit confused which only proceeded to aggravate the indignation now building in your chest.

“Uhhh,” he began, eyes moving back and forth from you to the clementines in his hand.

“I’ll pay you for them,” you interrupted him, hands rummaging in your pockets for your wallet.

“No no it’s okay,” he shook his head emphatically. “You can just have them.”

It was then that you were reminded of the way you’d left your residence, half asleep after a three-hour nap that had been proceeded by your third all-nighter this week. You were in the same clothes you’d been wearing yesterday, wrinkled no doubt, with circles that made you resemble a raccoon imprinted under your eyes.

And yet if the sympathy of this stranger meant that you got your treasured clementines, then you couldn’t complain.

“Okay,” you took them from him. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he nodded amicably. “Just know that you owe me.”

——

“Wow, there’s a lot of people here,” you said to Yuta as you took your seats. Nearly every chair in the auditorium had already been taken and people were still filing in through the double doors that led to the lobby.

“For good reason,” he told you as he leaned back in his seat. “They’re really good.”

You had agreed to go with him to see his friend Sicheng and his dance company perform a while ago, so long that it had almost escaped your mind today. You supposed it was a good thing that Yuta never failed to give you countless reminders for everything in your life, from a project due to an event that you had promised to attend with him months ago.

Just as you began to flip through the program in your lap the lights in the audience went down only to be replaced by a single spotlight. A man appeared from the side of the stage to announce the upcoming performance before disappearing backstage once more.

The dark and silence that followed made you feel like the entire audience was holding their breath. Then the red velvet curtain parted and the show began.

——

You clung to Yuta’s arm so as not to lose him in the crowd as you wove your way through the lobby to the door marked with a neon exit sign. He had agreed to meet Sicheng outside after the performance and so there you waited, hands stuffed in your pockets to ward off the winter chill.

Soon enough a chattering group exited the building, their stage makeup looking comical under the light of the streetlamps.

“Sicheng!” Yuta cried as his friend emerged from within their midst to greet him. You laughed to yourself at the modest and faintly embarrassed expression on his face as Yuta began to talk his ear off about the intricacies of the show you’d just watched.

Leaning against the brick wall of the building you watched as people hugged each other goodbye, feeling oddly out of place. Then you were met with the sight of a familiar face with a familiar mole under the left eye.

“I’m pretty sure you owe me,” he said as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“Oh, you were serious?”

“Of course.”

You stared him down, waiting for him to waver. But he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled at you like you were an old friend, someone who he had shared tubs of popcorn with and borrowed a towel from after a summer day spent in the pool.

You felt entrapped in his gaze, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. His eyes were warm and comfortable like a rare spot of sun on the wood floor in winter. It wasn’t exactly a staring contest you were partaking in, but you still didn’t want to be the first to look away.

“I don’t even know your name,” you finally conceded.

“Ten,” he said simply, reaching out a hand to shake.

You told him your name and he repeated it back to you, rolling the foreign syllables around on his tongue like they were peas fresh out of the pod. Your name, something so mundane after hearing it so many times, sounded fresh and beautiful coming from him.

“So how about you buy me an ice cream cone to pay off your debt.”

“It’s too cold for ice cream.”

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” he said cheekily before turning to say goodbye to his friends.

You stepped forward as well to let Yuta know where you were going, and after an affirmation from Sicheng that Ten wasn’t a creep, he let you go with a promise that you’d text him when you got home.

——

“So what’d you think of the performance?” Ten asked you before taking a bite of his green tea ice cream.

You shuddered at the sight, gums cringing in phantom pain. He tilted his head like a cat would at your actions, and you quickly had to explain that it was aimed at him biting his ice cream, not at the performance.

“It was amazing,” you said after the miscommunication had been cleared up.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

Your mind drifted off for a moment as you relived the contents of the show you’d just watched. Some songs had been slow, strange, and hypnotizing. Others were much more upbeat, the energy in the room making you feel like you could fly up into the rafters of the grand auditorium.

“What about me?” Ten asked, successfully jolting you from your fond remembering.

“Huh?”

“What do you think about me?”

You smiled at the cheshire grin on his face, noticed the way his eyes twinkled with mischief. To yourself you thought, I think I’d like to see more of those eyes, but out loud you said:

“I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

——

Months passed and you did exactly that, got to know each other better. You learned that Ten actually hated fruit and that he had only wanted to buy the clementines for his roommate, the aforementioned Sicheng. You saw firsthand how hard he worked, how creativity ran through his veins in place of blood and leaked out of his pores in place of sweat.

You quickly learned that he shared your affinity for coffee and so, since you only lived a few blocks away from each other, much of your time was spent haunting the local coffee shop. It was there that he told you of his home back in Thailand and of his family and friends there, as well as the story of how he started dancing.

He talked a lot if you let him, but you didn’t mind. He was fascinating to listen to and to watch. Time and time again you found yourself sinking into the depths of his eyes as you listened, bathing in their warmth.

He caught you doing just that a few times more than you’d like, laughing kindheartedly at your embarrassment before starting back up again where he had left off. He was always kind, even when he teased you for the purple butterfly sticker you bought to place over your laptop camera.

“You watch too many crime movies,” he’d said before letting out an exaggerated yelp when you’d punched him in the arm.

Tonight you were watching yet another crime movie on that same laptop, your blankets creating a nest for you to rest in. Ten sat next to you, his fingers braiding the loose strings on the side of one of those very blankets. Every now and then he would look up to watch you, barely remembering to pay any attention to the movie.

Your brow creased as you focused on the crime detailed in the film, your eyes wide and reflecting the screen at him. Your shoulders were hunched in and for a moment he wondered whether it was from the cold. This made him realize how cold it was in your living room, despite all of the blankets, and so he slipped an arm around you until you were pulled up against his side and sharing his body heat.

You jumped in response to his actions, almost crying out from surprise after being so engrossed in the movie before you.

“Sorry, I thought you were cold,” he said quietly.

“Oh. It’s okay,” you decided, not wanting to admit how comfortable he was and how nice he smelled.

“Okay,” he said, moving his arm into a more comfortable position. You jumped again but for a different reason this time.

“Sorry I-” he started to retract his arm.

“No, it’s okay I just-”

“Wait,” he cut you off, his trademark grin growing and filling you with anticipation. “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” you said quickly, maybe too quickly.

He let out a giggle and poked your side to test his theory. You jumped a third time, pushing him away in annoyance. But now he was laughing outright and you couldn’t help but laugh with him, any momentary exasperation disappearing as the golden sound poured out of your throats.

The two of you sat there laughing for far too long and simultaneously not long enough, movie long forgotten. You hadn’t laughed like that since you were a kid, that exhilarating feeling where anything and everything is truly hysterical.

Eventually, you lapsed from breathless giggles into giddy smiles. As Ten watched you, his heart still pounding like a drum in his chest, he had a rare moment of clarity.

“I like you.”

Once he came to the realization it wasn’t something he had to think about saying out loud. Why shouldn't you know? You were the only one that he cared to tell after all.

“Like like?” you asked despite how childish you felt.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Like like.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his words, eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” he said matter of factly. “I told you so you’d know, not so you’d say it back.”

The corners of your mouth turned up against your will as you stared down at your hands where they rested in your lap. You realized then how easily smiling came to you since you’d met him. How easily happiness came. You no longer had to convince yourself that your small pleasures and indulgences were happiness, for in the time since you’d met Ten you had simply begun to believe it.

“I like you too.”

“Really?” his eyes lit up as he looked at you, mouth curving into a newborn smile.

“Really.”

84 notes · View notes

atinydise · 4 years

Text

Ateez reacting to Hongjoong being a “grown man”

❦ Genre: Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 12k.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

SEONGHWA

Seonghwa was cleaning the room. He was so thankful that you and Hongjoong were not so messy. He could clean the room peacefully without finding weird stuff or a ton of messy clothes on the floor like Wooyoung and Yeosang’s room. By thinking about that, Seonghwa was curious to know if everything was good between you and the leader. They barely see you at day since you are working or studying. And when you come to the dorm, it’s already pretty late. He was curious. How did you manage to see Hongjoong and to spend a few romantic moments together if you could barely see each other? It’s not like he wants to know your entire relationship, but he just wants to know how you make it works. When he asked Hongjoong about that, he only replied that you FaceTime a lot or that you text together the whole day. But nothing can replace the physical chemistry. “Do you need help Hyung?” Asked San. “No I’m fine,” he replied. It was his special moment; he needed to enjoy it, alone. When he finally erased all the questions from his mind, he put all his effort to cleaning. After cleaning the windows, all the surfaces and tidy all of his clothes in the wardrobe, he finally grabbed the vacuum cleaner. While the eldest member was humming to Thanxxx, he noticed that the vacuum cleaner made a weird noise. He wasn’t paying attention at first but at some time he really thought that he broke it. When he finally checked what was going on, he spotted an empty condom stuck on the brush. “I’m back,” entered Hongjoong, throwing his bag on the bed. “Oh, you are almost done cleaning?” Seonghwa was still petrified by the little item he was holding. He was hesitating to throw it on the leader face and yell at him or hide it to avoid an awkward moment. “Hwa?” “Did Y/N came here these last days?” Hongjoong raised a brow, curious to know why he was asking this question. “Yesterday, why?” “Just asking.” He finally said before rushing to the trash to hide the condom. “Why? Did she mess up with your clothes?” “N-no...” he stuttered, trying to hide the blush on his face. “Well okay.” Shrugged the leader. “Do you remember when I asked you how you could keep a good chemistry without seeing each other?” “Hum yeah?” “Forget it.”

YUNHO

Yunho was a little bit worried for his leader and especially for you. Hongjoong’s was busy the whole week and every time they had free time he replied that he couldn’t hang out with all of them, because of his work. Yunho thought that if he couldn’t even see his members who lives with him, he couldn't see you either. He concluded that you might feel alone without him. Since you arrived in South Korea, Hongjoong was like your boyfriend, your closest friend at the same time. It was difficult for you to make friends. So, Yunho decided to take care of you as a good friend. He bought a few meals at the pizzeria next to your university and went to the dormitory to spend some time with you. As a friend, nothing more. He texted you to know where your dorm was, but you never replied back. Yunho started to freak out thinking that you were probably busy somewhere. “Do you need some help?” Asked a random girl, who was surely talking with him because he was good looking. “I’m looking for my friend Y/N. Do you know where I can find her?” “Oh... she’s living at the end of this hallway. At the right door.” “Ah thank you.” He bowed to her before walking toward your direction. Right in front of the door, he knocked twice. But nothing. He tried again, but you still didn’t open the door. He really thought that you were out. But his instincts told him to open the door, thinking that you might be hurt. He took a deep breath and entered the room. “Y/N, it’s Yunho I was worried for y-“ he stopped, eyes wide open, “you...” “Yunho what are you doing here?!” Yelled Honjoong, rushing to put his pants back. “W- what? Me? What are you doing here?!” He asked. “You were the one saying that you needed to work.” “I was working.” He said. “Seems like that Y/N’s name is “work” now!” Claimed Yunho. You were looking at the scene in front of you. “Since when are you “working” with Y/N?” Asked Yunho out of nowhere. “I won’t tell you! This is private.” “But you were lying to us all this time!" “Oh come on! I didn't want to tell you 'Hi I'm going to see Y/N for private and adults’ moments together'.” He claimed sarcastically. You finally spoke, “since you need to talk... can you give me the pizza?” You pointed at the box on his hands. “How can you think about food in this situation?” Asked Hongjoong. “I’m hungry when I’m horny.” You claimed without thinking twice. “Oh gosh...” sighed Yunho, covering his ears. You shrugged at your boyfriend, “what? It’s true.”

YEOSANG

Yeosang was quite silent and calm most of the time. He wouldn't be the one initiating the tease, or only if he's in a really good mood. Because of his cold or distant personality, the other members mentioned that he needed to open up a little bit more with them. Sometimes they felt like he was sad or mad, just because he would stay a bit far from the fun (a.k.a the chaos). So he decided to listen to them and to interact a little bit more or to enjoy their presence. His first target was Seonghwa. They spent a whole morning cleaning the dorm. Useless to say that he didn't help Yeosang at all, he just wanted to throw the vacuum cleaner and to run away. After his hyung, he spent time with San. They went to the Taekwondo school and trained with his dad. Honestly, it was cool. Until San pushed him accidentally in the waist. So today, he decided to spend some time with Hongjoong. He knew that he would be busy, so he could rest on the couch and fake that he's enjoying some time with his hyung. So he went to KQ's building, He took his earphones and downloaded a movie because he knew he would be bored. Yeosang didn't text the leader. He wanted to surprise him. Then, he knocked loudly at the door, "Hyung! Let's get some fun today!" Just before he opens the door, Hongjoong pushed it strongly, trying to block his way. "Yeosang? What-" "I am doing here?" He finished, "I want to spend some time with you." "R-Right now?" he stuttered. "Yes why? And open this door, it's cold here." He tried to push the door. "Just! Wait a few seconds okay!" Hongjoong closed the door again. Yeosang stayed in the hallway, not understanding the situation at all. He knocked again, "are you okay there?" "Just 2 seconds!" yelled the leader. When finally Hongjoong opened the door to welcome his friend correctly, he spotted you on the couch. "Oh! Hi Y/N, I wasn't expecting-" he stopped, realizing that something was strange. Hongjoong bite his lips. He was scared that his teammates understand the situation. A long silence remained in the room. You were trying to keep the fake smile on your face while Hongjoong sat back on his chair as nothing happened. "Did- did you just? I mean? You were not doing sinful stuff, here right?" Asked Yeosang. "We-" "Wait stop! I don't want to know anyway!" he shouted, covering his ears before exiting the room. "I don't want to be social anymore!" he yelled enough loudly that both of you could hear it.

SAN

“I think you should lock the door,” you broke the kiss with Hongjoong. “I’m too busy right now to stand up to lock this.” He said, kissing your neck softly. You giggled at how needed he was. “But don’t forget that we are not alone,” you warned him again, pushing him a bit on the side. “Y/N it’s okay,” he held your hand. “They aren't dumb.” “What do you mean?” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a bit annoyed by your question. “We are a couple; we are alone in a room, we put on some music... I mean... it’s obvious!” You stayed silent for a second. He was right. They were all grown men; everybody probably got the message. “So? Can we do it now?” He asked while you remained silent. “Okay.” “Thank you!” He said sarcastically before pinning you down on the bed. In a matter of time, all your clothes were spread on the floor. You were enjoying all of his ministrations and foreplays, but a part of you couldn’t relax. It was not the first time you made out with him while the other members were there but today you really felt like someone would come in. “Y/N, relax...” he whispered in your ear. Just the smoothness of his voice sent you on a cloud nine. “Ready?” He said, asking for your permission, as always. You didn’t have enough time to nod that San entered in the room, almost bumping the door on the wardrobe behind. Your heart made a looping in your chest. You knew something would happen. Your instinct never fails. “Don’t say anything,” whispered Hongjoong, knowing that you would say ‘I told you' or 'I was right’ as usual. “What are you doing?!” Shouted San covering his eyes to stop seeing his leader's naked butt. “Just get out San!” Yelled Hongjoong. “I can’t move! I’m like paralyzed or traumatized!” He shouted back. “I don’t know you were into profanities!” “San just get out!” Repeated Hongjoong. “What’s happening here?” Asked Seonghwa, entering the room. You thought that it couldn’t get worse, but the eldest member was followed by all the other members. “Please wake me up... It’s a nightmare...” you whispered. “What’s wrong with y’all!” Panicked Hongjoong, finally covering both of you. They all stepped back while San was still standing there, hands on his eyes. Seonghwa got the courage to come back in the room to pull him outside. “I-” you started. “Don’t.” He cut you instantly, falling back on the bed.

MINGI

"Okay see you tomorrow idiots," said Hongjoong, putting his backpack. "What? Hyung! You promised you would stay with us to watch Tenet tonight." Hongjoong grunted, he completely forgot that he promised this. "You can't leave us there just for work." "I was actually seeing Y/N tonight, it's her birthday and I wanted to surprise her." "Oh... okay." Sighed Mingi, a bit disappointed. Hongjoong felt really bad. These times they were so busy, but they all managed to find free time between all of their individuals' schedules to spend time together. "How long is this movie?" he asked, putting down his bag. "Around 2 hours," replied Yunho. "Well I will watch it with you, but I'll run to Y/N just after that okay?" They all nodded and Yunho played the movie. As always just at the beginning Jongho needed to pee, San and Wooyoung were fighting for the blanket, Yunho was already guessing the end of the movie and Seonghwa was staring at his phone. The quiet one was Mingi. And it was unusual. The leader thought that he might be really immersed in the movie already. To be honest, Hongjoong liked the movie more than he thought, even if it was really confusing most of the time. Just when the most confusing scene was playing, Hongjoong's phone buzzed on his pocket. When he grabbed his phone, he knew that was you. Without thinking twice he unlocked his phone to check your message. He and Mingi gasped when the light of his phone turned on to reveal a suggestive picture of you. Hongjoong stared at Mingi to see if he saw the picture too. "You didn't see anything okay?" "How I'm supposed to forget this!" Whispered Mingi. "Just forget it! I'm the only one allowed to see this kind of pic of Y/N." "Then keep it for you!" he replied. "I didn't want to know that you are having the fun of your life tonight! Or any day!" "Hey, we aren't at the theater but shut up," claimed Yeosang, not even caring about the politeness. "Just keep it for yourself!" Added Hongjoong one last time. Mingi didn't say anything but it was hard for him to forget this kind of pic of you. You seemed so shy and pure, but now he will definitely change his mind.

WOOYOUNG

“Is there someone inside?” You whispered in front of the dorm door. “No seems like they are still training.” Said Hongjoong. “Then we have approximately...?” you asked. “30 minutes. But let’s make it quick, so we are safe.” He pulled you inside, instantly removing your jacket. “Here?” You asked before kissing him frivolously. “No let’s go to my room.” Useless to say that you rushed there. Both of you were so needy that you threw off all of your clothes the whole way to his room. “I feel like it’s been an eternity since the last time I touched you.” He giggled, sneaking his hands around your waist. “If you were not too focused on your work, it wouldn’t feel like an eternity.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. You were always telling him the same thing. “Did you just... rolled your eyes at me?” You raised a brow, a bit angrily. “Yes, I did.” He replied coldly. “Really? Why? I mean it’s not my fault-“ “It’s not my fault too if I’m working too much!” “Wow calm down.” You sat on the bed while he was standing and looking for his clothes. “I never said that it was your fault.” “But that’s how I felt.” He claimed. When you wanted to apologize to him, Wooyoung entered the room. “What’s happening here? And w-where the rest of your clothes?!” He shouted loudly, hands in front of his eyes. “What are you doing here?” Shouted the leader, rushing to wrap you up in the cover. “Weren’t you supposed to train with the boys?” “You told me this morning to work on my high-notes!” He shouted, facing the wall. “And you? I mean both of you! What were you doing?” “I would appreciate it if you could erase Y/N in underwear from your mind.” “Just don’t do these kinds of things here! Dis.Gus.Ting!” he said, plugging back his earphones. “Oh because it’s not disgusting when you do it wi-” “It’s disgusting because it’s both of you!” He cut him off. While you were giggling at how shy he was, Wooyoung left the room and rushed to the kitchen. “And you better get both dressed! Don’t do this while I’m here!” He yelled from the other room. “And pack up your clothes before Seonghwa-Hyung sees this mess!” You sighed. 5 minutes ago, you were arguing with your boyfriend. The next minute, one of his teammates interrupted for good your intimate session and now... you needed to clean your mess. “What a wonderful moment...”

JONGHO

The boys invited you for a chill and cool day at the park. The weather was perfect, and the park wasn’t too crowded because it was the middle of the week. It was exactly what you needed and what you wanted, to relax from this stressful week. Plus, you haven't seen your boyfriend since a week and you wanted to spend time with him. Useless to say that you wanted to spend an intimate moment with him too. To make him understand that you were needy, you planned to tease him with the ice cream you bought. When he was looking at you, you would lick the ice cream extremely suggestively. Quicly understanding your ministrations, he would smirk at you. But unlucky for you, he was not the only one who spotted your little game. Jongho was glancing at you, trying to see if it was intentional or not. Just when he thought it was just a normal way for you to eat an ice cream, you winked at your boyfriend. Instinctively, he had a terrible gag. “Are you okay bro?” Asked San, looking at the maknae. “Please Hyung and Y/N-” he stopped. Your heart almost stopped, did he... “Take a room.” He claimed, disgusted. Yes, he did. You furiously blushed and almost threw the ice cream on the trash next to you, but realized it was a bit too far. “What are you talking about?” Asked Seonghwa, slapping his member’s arm for being a perv. “Ouch Hyung!” He rubbed his arm, “I saw their little game! She’s licking her ice cream to tease him! It's not the way it should be eaten!” You hide your face behind your hands. “I didn’t know you were so perv Hyung,” he looked at the leader, who was avoiding every stare on him. “I know that Y/N was like that but you!” He added before grabbing his phone. “Wait what-” you stuttered. “I’m not.” “We all know this already Y/N.” Said Yunho, smiling at you. “Oh gosh... please, someone wakes me up.”

332 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Tell Me Everything

Follows Found Out, Akio, Chris Sees, and I’m Here

CW: References to murder, suicide, grief, pet whump, abduction, whump of a minor, ableism, Oliver Branch manages to be creepy even now in brief reference

He’s shorter than Ben thought he would be.

Ben sees him first, but, like of course he does - Akio Nakamura isn’t exactly famous but he has his own youtube channel and is like an Olympic-level athlete, so he’s pretty fucking recognizable... if you’ve spent two days scrolling through every Instagram photo of him on three different accounts that you can find.

Ben showed up thirty minutes early, because Ben has never been late to a fucking thing in his life and something tells him this is maybe one of the most important things he’ll ever do, even though he doesn’t quite know why.

Something about it keeps picking at his mind, taking it apart, unraveling him with the reality that someone fucking cared about Chris, before whatever happened. Chris doesn’t remember much, and Ben and Laken had done the googling and searching and shit, trying to get some idea of what the hell could have happened to make someone like Chris - bouncy and full of sunshine optimism even on his bad days - end up at a place like WRU.

They’d found nothing a first. But Ben hadn’t known what he was looking for, then. Now that he knows what to look for, he can’t stop finding things. He feels like a detective or someone who has lost his mind, desperately piecing together a life that was interrupted, like someone disappearing mid-sentence, and Ben is following a trail of the words he said before.

He finds human-interest stories from ten years ago, digitized articles from old community newspapers. He finds more photos from the gym, photos where the redheaded boy is in the background, or in the front always looking slightly off to one side, rarely smiling for the camera but happy to smile as long as he didn’t have to look right at it.

He finds out Veronica Higgs, murdered in the double-homicide that had destroyed the life of Tristan Higgs, had a facebook page, and it’s marked as In Memorial. So is her husband’s, but Paul Higgs’s page is private and his profile photo is a meme that hasn’t been a thing since…

Since they died.

Something about that makes his throat close up as he scrolls Ronnie’s last few public updates, the scattering of people who have left comments saying they miss her, they’re thinking of her, they hope she’s in a better place. Comments are left on the last post like clockwork, once a year, by the same few people.

Thinking of you today, Ronnie.

Saw your favorite bird today!

Hope you and Tris and Paul are happy wherever you are now, Ronnie. I take comfort in knowing you’re still together.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Ronnie!

Left flowers for you today, Ronnie. Jennifer did a routine this year that uses some of Tristan’s music, we’re always thinking of you!

Thinking of you

Miss you

Hope you three are happy together

Miss you, big sister, always.

One day I’ll stop leaving comments like you’re still here. I was watching the old videos and gosh, I couldn’t help but think how proud we were of our boys back then! Rest in peace. Give Tris a kiss for me. That’s Aimi Nakamura, that’s Akio’s mom. Her profile photo is her with her arms around Akio himself, wearing his leotard and holding up a medal with a bright smile, and a younger teenager who must be his little sister - she’s just wearing regular clothes. Feeling like a stalker, Ben opens the mom’s facebook page in a new tab. He absolutely does not look at the photos of Akio she’s posted. He does not do that at all.

He might do that later.

For now he goes back to Ronnie’s page, sees that her last post was brief, something about looking for a recipe, crowd-sourcing. Tris asked to try baked oysters, isn’t that funny? Only my kid, I swear. He’d said seafood is ‘slime’ except for tuna since toddlerhood, but no, this week he wants oysters. He said he wanted to try something new for once and he might as well go as far from the usual as he could get. I

One of the joys of all of this is how when he gets something in his head, I just go with him, and we see what’s on the other side of the jump, right? Watch him spit it right back out.

It’s fucking ordinary.

She posted it a couple days before she was murdered.

That doesn’t seem fair, does it? He just can’t wrap his head around it. She was a good mom taking care of her kid, she got some recipe ideas... but then she never cooked any of them because she just… died?

She died, and Tristan’s - Chris’s - dad died, and then there just wasn’t anybody? There wasn’t anybody to take care of a kid who couldn’t take care of himself yet? Nobody at-fucking-all, to keep Tristan safe and loved when the people who loved him the most were gone?

How the hell did he go from placed in the care of relatives to just... gone? How did he go from gone to a rescued runaway pet with a new name and a new life? What happened in all that gray space in-between?

Ben blinks back tears.

Whatever it was... could that happen to Jamey? Ben’s whole family has built their existence on holding his little brother together through the ways the world wants to shred everything about him. He’s spent nearly all the life he remembers with his brother’s hand closed in the fabric of his shirt, shadowing him through the world, reminding him that you can’t trust everybody, not everyone has good intentions.

Ben doesn’t even have to think before he’s moving in front of him to block out the noise and chaos of the world that Jamey just can't filter the way Ben can. He knows that when - hopefully forever from now - their parents die, Jamey’s going to move in with Ben.

It’s never been a question. He doesn’t want it to be a question.

But... what if Ben wasn’t there? What would happen to Jamey if his Mom and Dad were gone, and nobody was there who wanted to keep Jamey safe? He can’t stop thinking about it. He cycles around and around, and Laken called him yesterday and said not to talk to Chris for a few days, that he saw the video and he’s not okay, and Ben’s not fucking okay, either, is he?

This could happen to Jamey.

Someone could see him, alone and vulnerable, and think, no one will stop me and he can’t stop me either, and then Jamey could disappear and then just not be Jamey anymore, and there wouldn’t be anyone to save him-

Ben looks up from his phone without focusing on anything, sniffing back the pain, the tight feeling in his chest at the idea of his little brother, disappearing into some dark hallway and never coming back. Just some photos on Instagram, a video of two, some mentions on somebody’s In Memorial Facebook page, that’s all that’s left of his silly, serious, annoying, funny little brother?

Like someone turned out the light on Jamey’s life and the world just forgets him, because his family isn’t there to keep him safe and Jamey can’t always tell who you can trust and who you can’t, and… and Chris can’t either, can he?

He just wants to think the best of everyone, he forgives everyone who hurts him so easily, so quickly, like it’s second-nature, like...

Did Tristan Higgs want to think good things about whoever did this, whoever had him erased, whoever handed him off to be turned into one of those blank empty-eyed dolls celebrities and rich people drag around? Did Tristan Higgs trust the person who gave him away to be erased, because he didn’t know not to?

Who the fuck bought him?

How did it all fucking happen?

The bell chimes. Akio Nakamura is right on time.

And he’s short.

He’s got a natural almost-smile on his face at all times, a hint of tan to his skin even now in the early spring, wearing a thin gray hoodie, unzipped over a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. His muscles aren’t visible, like this, but Ben has seen the videos and knows they’re there, the body of a trained athlete hidden under casual clothing. His hair isn’t as short as it is when he competes, in the videos Ben has already watched over and over entirely for research purposes. It’s a little longer, starting to flop over his forehead.

Dark eyes scan the interior of the store, and Ben raises one hand to catch his attention.

The smile brightens, briefly, with a quick nod - like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Ben feels that smile as a physical warmth in his chest - and he pushes the rest of the way inside, walking straight over.

“Hey,” Akio says, and his voice is a little deeper than it seems in the youtube videos where he narrates, and Ben, for one shining moment, completely forgets how to speak his own fucking native language.

His mouth opens and nothing comes out - except maybe kind of a croak, which, please let that not have been audible - and he clears his throat, waiting for his brain and his body to remember how to work together. “Uh… um, h-hey,” He says, finally, and shifts uncomfortably. “You’re-... right. I’m, um. I’m Ben.”

“Yeah. I, I figured, you look just like your profile photo.” Akio laughs a little, dropping into a seat cross from him, sitting casually and letting his eyes roam over the mostly-empty interior of the shop, painted with bright colors and lined with posters about ice cream.

Ben could not possibly have picked a worse place for a professional athlete to go to… meet and talk about his dead friend, could he? Oh, God. Oh he’s a fucking moron. “Right. Uh, sorry, I couldn’t-... when you asked to meet on the phone, I kind of blanked and this was the only place I could think of-”

“Hey, that’s all right. I like coming here, when I’m off from competing. It’s been a while. Hope you don’t mind if I stick with an iced coffee today, though, I’m not feeling ice cream.” Akio grins at him, and Ben’s knees might buckle if he wasn’t sitting down already. The smile takes over his entire face, lights it up, and it reminds him so much of Chris when he’s really happy, the way Chris smiles with his entire fucking body, not just his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s… no problem, I’ll order, I picked here, anyway. Just the iced coffee?”

“Yeah, please. Also, I should warn you - my mom is lurking across the street faking an interest in whatever they sell at Paisley Poses and she’ll probably stop pretending she’s not here and show up before we’re done. She’s… uh. Well, get the stuff, and then I’ll, um, I’ll explain.”

“Right. Got it.” Ben’s grip on his phone is white-knuckled as he stands up, aware of every movement of his body as he walks - and he walks normally, right? Not, like weird? It’s not like Akio is watching him walk anyway, probably - over to the cash register. The cashier, whose hair is dyed a pale faded sort of seafoam green, almost the color of those weird mint shakes you can buy from McDonald’s in April, takes his order with a flat affect, unbothered, uncaring.

Ben doesn’t know what he orders for himself. His mouth moves and words come out and then he realizes he doesn’t know what he just said.

Whatever it is, he pays for it.

He takes the little number-on-a-stick, and carries it back to the table to wait.

“Iced coffee it is,” He says a little breathlessly. “Um, it’ll be just a sec. They’ll bring it out with my… with mine.”

Shit, what the fuck did he even order for himself?

“No problem.” Akio’s eyes move over his face, considering. He’s sitting slouched a little, but it doesn’t look quite natural - like his posture is usually so much better and he’s trying to look like everyone else. Ben’s eyes are drawn to his hands, folded over his stomach, over wrinkled white shirt fabric. He has a blood-bruise under one thumbnail.

What a weird fucking thing to notice about someone.

“I-I don’t really know where to start,” Ben admits, slouching himself. He runs his fingers over the textured case of his phone, a charcoal-black with rough edges. Jamey likes the texture on his phone, will just sit and rub the pads of his fingers on it over and over and over again, smiling in a distant way, sitting next to Ben on the couch while Ben watches TV and Jamey, who can go days without speaking and is currently one hundred percent all about how they film movies and tv shows, explains every fucking cinematic trick every camera is using at any given moment.

It’s nice.

It’s how Jamey says he loves you, by sharing what’s up in his head whenever he can, and Ben - when he’s home - always tries to listen.

“Yeah.” Akio laughs again, and Ben decides it’s a good laugh - strong, and not overly loud, and a little infectious. “Yeah, me neither. I don’t-... how do you even begin a conversation like this? Hello, nice to meet you, what do you know about my dead best friend? I don’t know what to say, just… we don’t even know they’re the same person, do we? Maybe they just look alike. Fuck.” Akio laughs once more, but this time it’s shaky, breathier. “I genuinely can’t decide if I want him to dead or not, I just-...”

Ben takes a breath, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone yesterday morning, exhausted and rambling after a night of not sleeping, their fear and grief and love for Chris, telling Ben to go ahead with this meeting, but Chris needed time. “They’re definitely the same person,” He says, voice low and quiet. “We, um. He saw the video you posted, and he kind of-... freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” Akio blinks, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes are focused completely on Ben’s face, which would make him blush if he weren’t trying not to look directly at him. “What do you mean?”

Ben swallows. “Um. Just. He’s-... he doesn’t remember. Or… he didn’t. Seeing the video might have… brought some stuff up. Like, a lot of... bad stuff.”

Fuck, I’ve never heard him scream like that. Laken’s voice, rough-edged, laced with their tears. I can’t believe… he needs a few days, he can’t go with you to see this guy, Ben. He’s-... he’s super fucked up right now. I’m so glad his brothers know what’s happening to him because I-I don’t know what to do and he won’t let me anywhere near him.

Akio nods, slowly, and his hands worry at each other under the table, the smile faded and replaced with seriousness, uncertainty. “Yeah, when you said-... anyway, I looked the company up, and it’s-... it’s weird, I knew about pets, but I guess… I mean, he wasn’t old enough to…”

“Um… yeah. So, um. I know, but they-... clearly they still did...”

They sit there in an awkward silence, and then Akio pulls his own phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. “Let me show you something. Tris and I shared our passwords for Instagram, way back, and when he-... went… when his aunt took his phone away-”

Ben’s eyebrows furrow. Something about that pricks at him. Miss you, big sister, always.

“He went to live with his aunt?” Ben asks. The cashier reappears, setting a plain iced coffee down on the table, and Ben discovers he apparently ordered iced coffee with a scoop of ice cream for himself, and that’s not bad, good for him. It’s even his favorite ice cream, vanilla with almond and chocolate chips.

“Yeah, his Aunt Jo, his mom’s sister.” Akio shrugs one shoulder. “I never met her, she never came to meets or anything. Tris always said she was kind of a shit to him and his dad.” Something in his jaw is tightening - and the line of his jaw is catching Ben’s eyes entirely too much for the seriousness of this conversation. He can’t stop himself from looking. “She’s who he went to live with, after. She took his phone away because he was complaining to, um, to my mom and I - my mom and Ronnie, Mrs. Higgs, were… you know, team moms.” He shrugs, and Ben doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. “He was complaining about how she took him out of therapy, and… uh, you know, Tris needed therapy, just-... it helped him to, um-”

Ben swallows. “Self-regulate,” He says, softly. “Redirect potentially harmful stims. Figure out how to filter.”

“Right.” Akio smiles, a little shamefaced. “Sorry, it’s been… fucking years since I had to think about this so much. It’s… I would show my mom his messages, and my mom would call Jo and tell her to get him back in therapy and back to practice, but… you know, the social workers said there was nothing we could do about it. We weren’t family. We made complaints, but...” Akio slumps, closing his eyes briefly. "God, I don't even know if they did a home visit."

Ben closes his eyes. Jamey, trapped with someone who didn’t let him go to his own therapy. Jamey, nonverbal on hard days, trapped with someone who didn’t learn signing to talk to him during meltdowns like Ben’s family did.

Jamey, trying to say he needed help with his hands again and again but no one’s listening, no one’s even trying anymore-

“Yeah,” Ben says, voice hoarse, and uses a thin plastic spoon with a long handle to get a bite of ice cream soaked in cold coffee taste, letting it dissolve on his tongue to buy himself some time for his throat to open back up. It’s fear in his chest, yeah, but beneath that is a bubbling, simmering fury, a distant anger for a hypothetical that he understands was Chris’s reality. “Yeah. My brother’s-... um, autistic, so I know… I know about it.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

Ben blinks, caught off-guard. “What?”

Akio flushes, reddening along his cheekbones, and rolls his eyes at himself, slumping back down. “Okay, so, I promise I’m not a stalker, but when you messaged me I looked at your profile to see if you were just a creep. I saw the autism banner, so I looked and you wrote this really sweet thing about your brother-... how old is he?”

Ben almost forgets how to speak again. “He’s-... fifteen. Just turned fifteen. Jamey’s, um, his name is Jamey.”

“Cool. Yeah. So. I’m not a stalker. But, I’m just… listen, Tris and I started training at the gym together when we were like… seven. And I was seventeen when he, when she said… when she said he died.”

Ben’s breath catches. “Shit. She did?”

“Um. Yeah. A month after she took his phone away - we were calling her all the time asking to speak with him and stuff, my mom had kind of threatened to get social services involved again - she called my mom and said he-... um. Sorry if suicide is a thing for you, but…”

“No, I-I’m okay, I just…”

“Yeah. She told us he killed himself. We thought she was lying - oh fuck, she was lying, wasn’t she? - but so... but then you know, she had him cremated, and... I fucking-... I lost my shit, Ben. I didn’t compete, I didn’t train, I just, I just sat in my room for like six months bawling my eyes out and I told my mom it was just like she killed him, taking him away from everything when, you know, he was so sad and scared without them.”

Ben nods, quiet, watching Akio’s face as he speaks.

“My mom offered to take him, have him live with us, but… you know, she said no, and then he-... but he didn’t.” Akio drinks his coffee, absently, and Ben realizes his eyes are red around the edges. “Oh, god, he probably thought nobody cared about him anymore. Oh, shit. He probably thought we stopped giving a fuck. That h-he was al-... alone-”

He’s been crying. He’s maybe going to cry again.

Akio takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “He didn’t know-... shit. He probably just thought, no one’s coming, nobody cares, and… shit. I don’t know what to even think right now, just...” Akio slides his phone across the table. “Look at this. I locked it, when I thought-... but I kept it, anyway. I kept everything, I couldn’t-... I mean it’s just a box of stuff under my bed, but… I couldn’t throw any of it out, because… I don’t know. Somebody needed to, to r-remember him, and she wouldn’t have-... that fucking bitch told us he was dead. And she threw out all his stuff, so I’m... I guess I’m the only one who still has anything, so I just... kept it. Everything. And... this.”

There’s a moment where they both pretend Akio’s voice isn’t trembling.

“What is this?” Ben knows before the question is fully out of his mouth, but he looks anyway. Akio’s phone is still warm from his hand.

“Tristan’s Instagram account. We, uh, we took pictures of stupid shit a lot back then, and Instagram was, like, super new and all filters all the time, so you just-... but this is his. His mom encouraged him to use it because, you know, sometimes he could show stuff better than he could say it.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Ben tilts his head, scrolling through the images. Most of the photos are just nothing - a cloud, books on a bookshelf, a tree leaf. Ben kind of quirks a smile at all the old Instagram filters right there, like looking in a fucking time capsule. Sometimes there are gymnastics photos, of the gym or of someone training. Sometimes Tristan himself appears in the photo, a blur of constant motion, photos taken by someone else. Photos of dinosaur bones at a museum, seemingly every fucking skeleton or fossil in the place.

“That’s our trip to DC, the team went,” Akio says, and points to a photo of Tristan and Akio, gangly awkward teenagers, standing in front of the Lincoln monument. Akio is smiling, and Tristan is looking up at the sky instead of the camera. “I like to look at this stuff sometimes? I know it’s been… it’s funny, we were talking a few weeks ago about how it’ll be a couple more years when he’s been dead longer than how long I knew him, but he’s not-... he was never dead.” Akio swallows, and his voice catches. When he speaks again, he sounds strained, forcing his voice to stay calm around the emotion that threatens to overtake it. “He was never dead. I keep getting caught up on that, because-... because how did we not know? How did we never… find him?”

Ben pushes the phone back to Akio. “You didn’t know to look,” He says, softly. “How were you supposed to find him if you didn’t know anyone needed to be looking?”

“I guess. My mom feels like shit, she’s been crying since we spoke to you. Well, I have, too. But my mom feels like she… she should have showed up at Joanne’s door and just taken Tristan by force, but, you know, the cops would’ve taken him right back, probably? That’s fucking kidnapping? And I keep telling her not to feel guilty, but she-”

“Yeah,” Ben says, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone.

I didn’t know he’d come home early. I keep saying I’m sorry but... He wasn’t-... he wasn’t ready for this and he’s so… he’s so fucked up. He won’t even talk to me. Every time Jake leaves the room we’re scared he’ll hurt himself again. He keeps telling me to find someone else, somebody easier, but I don’t want anyone else, god damn it, I want him!

“She’s taking it really hard,” Akio says, finally, breaking into Ben’s thoughts. “I mean. We both are. But, you know, I keep thinking I can’t do this but then I think… I want to see him again. I want to see this guy in person, not just in those photos and videos you had. I want to see how he’s doing, he looks-... he looks so good.” Akio coughs, like he’s trying to cover up a sob, not quite managing it. “He looks really good.”

“He is, he’s doing… he’s good. Um, he’s having a hard time with remembering some stuff, but overall... he’s good.” Ben picks his own phone back up, pops back to Ronnie’s page. “What did you say the aunt’s name was?”

“Jo, um, Joanne… something. Sorry, I don’t really remember her last name, my mom would-”

“Botham?” Ben looks up, and god, he kind of wants to hug Akio until there aren’t tears in his eyes anymore. But also that’s a stupid thing to think, isn’t it? But he wants to, anyway.

“Oh, that sounds right.”

“She left a comment on his mom’s-... I’ve been looking for everything I could find. I’m sorry, I know that’s creepy. But Joanne Botham left like a comment about missing-... hold on.” Ben clicks to open up Joanne Botham’s profile. A woman smiling in a profile photo, with dark hair. Something about the shape of her mouth is similar to Chris’s, but that doesn’t mean much, really. He scrolls down.

Name, stupid quote from a stupider movie, current city is a while away from this one, like a couple states away, but she could’ve moved… There it is.

The answer to his questions, all of them, all at once, right out in the open.

“Joanne Botham,” He says out loud, “works at WRU.”

“What?” Akio looks up at him.

“His aunt. The mom’s sister, she works for WRU. That’s where Chris was-... where they hurt him. Where they make pets.”

Where they erase people. Where they take someone like Jamey and destroy him and how many versions of my brother are there who weren’t rescued by somebody like Chris’s big brother?

“WRU?” Akio’s face twists, an ugly pain written across it. “They’re one of our team’s sponsors. I’ve never thought about how… oh my god. I, I never liked… I mean, none of us are, like, political about it because you can’t be if you want an Olympic career, not really, but we all kind of hated taking the money. My coach thinks it’s good because it gets people off the street, which is super fucked up, but…” His iced coffee thunks down on the table.

“What?”

“Oh shit. Oh holy fuck. They’ve been sponsoring us since we met with the old governor - he’s the one who hooked our coach up with their marketing team, and… oh my god. I’m gonna be fucking sick. WRU’s been my sponsor since like… a year after Tristan died-... didn’t die, I guess...”

“You didn’t know,” Ben whispers, staring down at Joanne Botham’s profile photo, scrolling through the profile picture photo album. He’s not maybe the smartest person on earth, but he can put two and two together for four. Tristan Higgs’s parents died, he goes to his aunt - who works for a human pet company - and he’s dead, supposedly, four months later.

Time passes. No sign of supposed dead boy.

Then Chris, identical in every way, appears with no memory of his life and a thousand traumas to heal from, rescued from something that Ben doesn’t know the details of, but he doesn’t have to.

Life as a pet, a life that made him terrified of bad weather and scared of people who raise their hands too quickly, unable to say no to anything when he gets scared, nervous about big vans with no windows, someone who says stupid fucking bullshit like silence is better than stammering when he’s upset, who sometimes has screaming nightmares that Laken has to wake him from that he refuses to explain to them...

Meanwhile, Aunt Joanne is putting up photos of herself traveling internationally, buying a new house, a new car, stuff she couldn’t afford to do before.

The math does itself.

It’s fucking true crime textbook, and it’s right in front of his eyes.

Akio’s jaw is working, and his eyes are glimmering again. He looks at Ben, and he looks weirdly lost and young, and Ben reaches out without thinking and grabs onto his hand. Akio grips on tight. His hand is warm, almost too warm, but also it’s the perfect amount of warm. “Do you think-... do you think she-”

Ben thinks about Jamey, scared and alone. He thinks about Jamey - and Tristan, the two of them mixing together in his mind - being dragged away, to be lost and overwritten, because no one was there to stop it.

Because someone did it on purpose.

Because no one stopped it.

“I think maybe she was lying to you because she didn’t want you to take Tristan,” Ben says, softly. “I think maybe she wanted to-... make money on him.”

Akio chokes, and leans forward, and Ben holds his hand as tightly as he can, feeling the other man’s fingers tremble in his grip. “I can't-... I can't even begin to deal with that, I just… So h-how did he end up in college? Pets don’t-... go to school, they’re not capable… are they?"

"Um. It depends, apparently?" Ben doesn’t know how much of this is something Chris would ever allow him to share. But Akio’s eyes raise, and catch his again, and Ben smiles, just a little, in an attempt to comfort. “He was rescued,” He says, softly. “I don’t know how, or when. He’d have to tell you that himself. But he’s, um. He’s just Chris now.”

“He’s just Chris, now.” Akio groans resting his head on his hand. “But not Tristan. So he really is dead, his body’s still just-.. walking around.”

“No,” Ben says, and leans in, getting Akio to look at him again. “He’s not gone. Not, like, the core of him, I think. We knew him as soon as we saw him on your video. We knew the smile, and how he moves, all of it. Everybody in the room knew him as soon as we saw him smile at you. He’s still there, he’s still him. I promise.”

“I knew it was him on your stuff as soon as I saw him dancing,” Akio says, brokenly. “H-he always did get obsessed with those fuh-fucking musicals and we used to make up routines to th-them-” His head drops, shoulders shaking, and Ben puts his other hand on Akio’s shoulder, moves around the edge of the little circular table, so he can put an arm around him.

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Akio says, muffled. “It’s not okay. We should have saved him, w-we didn’t know, we didn’t know she would… he probably th-thought we didn’t care... the social worker said it was fine, we’re not re-relatives, we didn’t know he wasn’t dead, we didn’t know he wasn’t gone, I thought I l-lost him and he probably thinks I didn’t even give a fuck-”

“I’m sure he never thought that,” Ben says, softly, and Akio’s hair brushes a little against the side of his face and he tries not to think too hard about how nice that feels, this is not the time or place, Benjamin, stop thinking about his hair stop it stop it stop it.

“We thought... “

“I know. But… you found him, now. He’s found.”

Akio sniffs back tears, mumbling, “Can I see him?”

Ben hesitates. “He needs-... he might need some time.”

Akio nods without looking up, but he leans a little on Ben. “I’m sorry, I’m being a fucking moron about this, making you comfort me and you don’t even know me, but I just-... missed him, and mourned him, and we go to see is parents wh-where they’re buried every year on the day that his aunt said he-... Is he h-happy? Now?”

Ben closes his eyes. That’s what I’d want to know, isn’t it, if it was Jamey. Is he happy now? Does his new family sign, do they know how to calm him down when it’s too much, do they know, do they care, if I’m not there does someone love him as much as we did?

I’d claw my way out of the fucking grave to make sure someone loves Jamey as much as he deserves.

“He’s happy,” Ben says, softly. “He was adopted by the guy who saved him, I think. There’s a whole lot I don’t know, you know, it’s not really my-... my story to, um, to tell. I just know some of it. He’s, um, he’s with someone, and… he’s… he’s happy.”

“Good. I just-... I want to see him.”

“I know. I’ll ask. But his partner... I’m friends with them, and they, um, he’s n-not... not okay right now, so...”

“I can wait.” Akio looks at him, intense, intent, eyes so dark Ben could fall in. “I’ve waited this long, I can-... I can wait a little longer, I just... I just want to see him, when he can see me.”

The bell over the door chimes again, and the two of them turn and look to see a woman who could not be more obviously Akio’s mother entering, looking at them, her eyebrows furrowed in immediate worry when she sees the tears on Akio’s face. “Aki?”

“It’s him, Mom,” Akio says, and she moves to him as if drawn, and Ben fights himself to pull back and away, to watch mother and son. Tristan had this, and lost it, but Chris has it, too. Life, interrupted at the second act, begun again with new actors around the main character. “It’s definitely-... it’s Tristan. But, she-... I have to tell you what happened to him. He, they-they made him a, um, a pet-”

She hitches in a breath, pulls a chair with a loud scrape from another table, and sits, looking Ben over, expression serious. “Tell me,” She says, softly, but fiercely.

“It’s, um, it’s a lot…”

“I’ve got time.” Ben is reminded of his own mother, in the simple steel flashing under her perfectly styled hair and carefully done makeup. Her eyes are red around the edges, too. She lays a cool, dry hand over Ben’s, and her dark eyes bore into him with focused intensity. “Tell me what happened to our Tris. I want to know what happened to-... I want to know what I didn’t stop.”

Akio looks sidelong at his mother, putting an arm around her, and he’s shorter than his mom but she seems to sag against him, and he can see how Akio takes after his mom, with the same wide mouth that normally seems always on the verge of a smile, the same dark eyes flashing with anger and guilt. “M-Mom, you couldn’t have known, we couldn’t do anything-”

“I could have gone to that woman’s… house, or wherever she was, and taken Tristan right out the door, and I didn’t,” Aimi says, and her voice doesn’t shake, but her face is bright red and her eyes are overbright and glittering. “I could have called lawyers, or the cops, I could have tried to fight for him and I didn’t. Ronnie deserved-” Her voice catches and her hand is over her mouth. Ben watches her eyes well up, her struggle to calm herself, throat working as she swallows and leans into her son’s embrace. “Ronnie… would have wanted someone to fight for him. I want to know what happened because I did the normal thing and not the right thing, because I didn’t let myself see it. I want to know what exactly it is that I didn’t stop when I had the chance.”

Ben sits back, takes a breath.

“He, um. His name is… Chris now,” Ben starts, slowly. “Christopher Stanton. He’s, um, he’s a sophomore in college, and… he was a human pet, for a while. We don’t know how long, nobody knows for sure, or who had him. I mean, I guess he knows and I think his brother knows, but h-he, won’t… won’t tell anyone who it was.”

Aimi’s whole body shudders, but her face doesn’t change, and her eyes don’t leave Ben’s. “H-how-”

Akio licks at his lips, and hesitantly says, “Ben thinks maybe that aunt they sent him to sold him. She works for WRU.”

Aimi’s eyes slowly close, and her breathing is slow but trembling. The two young men watch her. Akio’s knee bumps his under the table, and he doesn’t think about that, either, except it’s all he’s going to think about for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Aimi says, after a long pause, and her eyes open again. A kind of perfect calm settles itself across the pain in her expression.

Ben thinks that this woman is probably fucking terrifying if it’s you she’s angry with and not herself.

“Mom, if we need to stop, that’s okay-”

“We don’t. Ben-... that’s your name? Ben?”

“Uh, yeah… Benjamin Prentiss, but-... call me Ben.”

Prentiss, Akio mouths to himself, and Ben hopes, in another weird moment, that Akio likes his last name.

“Got it.” Aimi leans forward, smacks the table with one hand. Ben flinches. Her jaw sets. She’s definitely terrifying. Like his own mother when they tried to kick Jamey out of school, this is a woman who could stare down the sun itself unblinking and walk away undamaged, if the sun was a threat to her children. “Ben?”

“Yes, um, Mrs. Nakamura?”

“Keep talking. Tell me everything about Tristan-”

“Chris.” He clears his throat. “He’s, um, his name is Chris.”

“... tell me everything about Chris.”

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

#whump #suicide reference #brief self-injury reference #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #chris the strawberry blond romantic #ben is a good bean #akio nakamura #abduction ref #grief tw #parental death tw #ableism tw #guilt #survivor's guilt #murder mystery #sort of #jesus joanne #wru

145 notes · View notes

sweeethinny · 4 years

Note

I love your writing so in character and just lovely it gives me the warm fuzzies. Could you write a prompt about the first time Harry is called dad or daddy by his children ?Teddy included of course.

hi anon, thanks, i love know that my writes gives this feelings to you <3 ok, this almost made me cry asdlkas i love write harry!dad, and thanks for send this, makes my day better <3

It was an ordinary day, as they moved from the cramped and comfortable apartment for a couple, and went to a house planned and built with a big family in mind, being happy that it was finally done (Who would have thought that even with magic the construction process would be slow?)

On Saturday, after packing their things - which were lost in the middle of the big house that definitely needed more furniture and decorations, or else it would seem abandoned - they went to get Teddy for the weekend, talked normally in the car (the boy loved it the ride, and Harry never cared about wasted time because it made the little one happy), Ginny asked for his help to decorate his own room, and everything was going well and normal.

On Sunday, after having breakfast with pancakes and strawberry juice, Teddy said normally;

''I have a present for you'' The little boy jumped out of his chair, running up the stairs and leaving Ginny and Harry gaping, waiting for the little one to come back from his room and bring whatever it was for the man ''Happy Father's Day'' Teddy said, smiling and holding out a red package for Harry, looking slightly unsure about it (his little hands were shaking) but without looking away.

Harry didn't know what to do, there were no words that could describe everything that went through his head, and all that heat in his chest. The godson was standing in front of him, giving him a Father's Day gift ... For him! On Father's Day!

''Grandma and I left flowers for Dad, and then I bought this for you'' Teddy continued ''Grandma said Grandpa Arthur would probably like one too, but I ... I want to give it to you first'' Harry has never felt his heart so close to tearing his chest, not since he proposed to Ginny. And speaking of her, when he looked at his wife, she had moist eyes towards the scene

''I..Thanks, Teddy, I- I didn't expect'' Harry said, feeling himself shaking shamefully as he reached for the package.

Father's day - as well as mother's - was always a reminder that Harry was alone; as a child, he cried the night after Petunia won several packages and congratulations, or that Vernon got things written with '' the best father in the world '' because it seemed so unfair that Harry couldn't celebrate it with anyone. At school, when there were performances, he was always the only one who never participated, because there was no reason, he had no one to hand over the cards full of glitter and children's drawings, not even to sing those sweet songs. No one would be in the audience for him. And at Hogwarts, he always remembered to send an owl to Mrs and Mr Weasley to congratulate them on the dates. Now after he was old, he went to his parents' grave and deposited flowers and spent some time there (he and Ginny had gone yesterday, before picking up Teddy)

But he never imagined that in his life.

''To: For the best second dad in the world From: Teddy

Congratulations Harry, I love you sooooo much, and I am very happy to have two daddies and one of them is you!

With love,

Teddy :)''

His hands shook even more as he undid the white ribbon, seeing a pair of cufflinks in a box, and a picture frame with a picture of the two together on his 6th birthday, where Harry was with him on his shoulders while everyone sang Happy Birthday song. The boy laughed openly clapping his hands to the rhythm of the music, while the godfather held him by the shins and swayed, looking up and smiling at the little boy.

Harry thought there would never be words for him to be able to say what it meant.

Teddy considered him his father - not only, but his second best dad - and had spent time with Andromeda to make the gift. Harry, for the first time in 24 years, didn't just feel the usual loneliness that days like these made him feel.

''Thanks buddy, I love you too'' Harry hugged him, more sentimental than he would have liked, holding him close to him as if afraid to let go and it was just a dream ''I will always, always, love you" He whispered against his godson's cheek, holding back the tears as much as he could."I'm going to put the photo in the living room" he said, feeling a little limp.

And for the rest of his life, whenever it was necessary to conjure up a patron, along with the memory of his wedding, and of his entire family together, that was in the middle, the memory of the first Father’s day that Harry spent being someone's father.

#hinny #harry potter #harry!dad #teddy lupin #harry potter next generation #hp next gen #next gen hp prompt #next gen harry potter #Harry and Ginny #Harry James Potter

94 notes · View notes

adorablele · 4 years

Text

thief; l.dh

↬ genre; fluff // soulmate!au

↬ word count; 3.4k+

↬ summary; you drunkenly sing to Donghyuck when you first met him, and he sings the same tune back to you a year later

↬ a/n; so HAPPY HAECHAN DAY,, he deserves all the love in the whole entire universe! and this isn’t as long as we’re just friends (but it’s real close) AND it’s fluffy!! anyways, this is an au where only your soulmate knows the same tune as you (it’s unique to each pair of people who have this mark). please enjoy :))

There was someone trying to break into your house.

Or more so, someone was trying to break into your brother’s house. Your eyes roamed around the room, looking for something you could use as a weapon. Your phone was charging in your room, and, currently, you were binge-watching on the couch.

“I just wanted to enjoy Disney plus,” you muttered to yourself, still salty that your brother has had an account for months and didn’t share this information with you until yesterday. He used some excuse about this being your ‘welcome back’ gift when you asked him why he didn’t tell you about it earlier. You really wanted to watch Ratatouille while you were in France.

You caught sight of the baseball bat your brother kept in the glass case near his other medals and trophies. You snorted at 10 year old Mark’s cheesy grin as he held up his trophy for winning the county spelling bee.

The clicking of the door reminded you of the dangerous situation you were in and you quickly grabbed the bat, hiding under the dining room table.

The door opened.

You tightly clutched onto the bat, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You heard the criminal wander into the living room, muttering something about ‘who would watch this?’ before he changed the channel.

You fought your instincts to jump the guy right then and there, waiting until he wandered past the dining room table. You stuck out the bat, the criminal tripping and falling to the ground. Jumping out from your hiding spot, you pointed the bat at the groaning stranger.

The words in your throat died, your heart dropping. You pushed his chin with the bat, trying to get a good look at his face. But you didn’t need to see his face to know it was him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that someone else, besides you, had access to your house?”

Mark scratched the back of his head, It slipped my mind?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you looked over at Donghyuck who sat on the couch. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, some show playing on the TV. He laughed obnoxiously.

“So why’s he here? At,” you checked the time, “two in the morning?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Sometimes he just randomly visits.”

“Yo, Hyuck!” your brother walked over to him, “why’re you here buddy?”

You trailed after Mark, taking the grocery bags he was holding.

Donghyuck planted his feet on the floor and placed a hand on his chest, jaw dropped as he stared wide-eyed at mark. “You mean,” he paused, “you don’t remember?”

Mark sighed, “It’s two in the morning and I had to do a late night snack run because someone,” he looked over to you who was digging through the grocery bags, “needed snacks to eat while binge-watching.”

You just smiled, opening a chip bag, ignoring the way Donghyuck commented ‘cute’.

Donghyuck tsked, “how could you ever forget something as important as this?”

You looked over at Mark who tiredly shrugged.

“I guess the day I blessed this earth isn’t important,” the boy sighed, dramatically laying down the couch with a hand over his forehead.

“Oh,” Mark tilted his head, “it’s already your birthday? I thought it was in two days.”

“And to think I once called you my best friend,” Donghyuck sighed, turning his head.

You snickered, adding another chip in your mouth. Was he always that dramatic?

(“Excuse me?”

Donghyuck walked towards you with a hand over his eyes and another one reaching forward, swishing back and forth to make sure he didn’t run into anything. You placed a hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

He shook his head, “no.”

“Uh, what happened?” you asked, placing down the bottles you were holding.

“I was blinded,” he cried.

“Oh no! How?”

“By your beauty,” he smirked, removing his hand.

You instantly let go of him, lips lined straight. He blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the light.

“Yeah, so I’m going to need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”)

“I’m sor-”

Donghyuck suddenly sat up, “it’s okay, I know what you can do to make it up to me.”

Mark raised a brow, “oh yeah?”

He nodded, “throw me a surprise party!”

You stifled back your yawn. “Alright, well I had plans to study today, but um,” you gave him a small smile, “since it’s your birthday, we can skip that.”

He shook his head, “it’s okay, don’t let me ruin your education.”

His thoughtful eyes made your stomach flutter, the memory of that night starting to resurface. You nodded, “to the library I guess.”

And in that brief moment when Donghyuck acted serious, you thought that you’d have a peaceful time at the library. You were wrong.

“This is boring,” he complained for the nth time.

“I suggested something different,” you paused your typing, “but you insisted that I not sacrifice my education to make you happy.”

“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” he muttered.

(You stared at the boy, unimpressed with his exaggerated gesture.

“Impressive,” he smiled, “I know.”

All you wanted was a distraction, not this guy with his pointy birthday hat. You smacked your lips, picking back up the bottles of alcohol before making your way to the exit.

“Woah, hey, where are you going with my alcohol?” he asked, standing in front of you.

“Your alcohol?”

“I’m the birthday boy,” he smiled, pointing to the ‘birthday boy’ party hat he was wearing, “also known as, the party host.”

“You hosted your own birthday party?”

“Well, my roommate did, but I did buy that alcohol,” he told you, taking the bottles from your hands.

He opened the fridge, “How about some ice cream instead?”

“That doesn’t drown out my memories,” you frowned, reaching for the bottles again.

He shoved a tub of ice cream in your hands, “No, but they give you brain freezes.”

“That doesn’t compare to the pain in my heart,” you scowled, shoving the ice cream back towards him.

He chuckled, “Edgy.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll just have the spiked punch.”

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “what about using me as a distraction, instead of, you know, alcohol.”

You actually considered his offer, the word ‘okay’ lingering on your tongue, but it never got the chance to escape.

“Hey, there you are!” some guy shouted, “hiding out in the kitchen, I see.”

The guy smiled at you, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal the birthday boy from you for a moment.”

“Looks like you’re needed elsewhere,” you told Donghyuck, making sure to take the bottles from his hands before his friend dragged him away.)

Your heart melted at the way he cutely laid his head down in boredom. “If you don’t distract me, then we can leave here in thirty minutes.”

You fought the urge to smile as he perked up, sitting up and nodding with determination.

However, ten minutes pass and you’re not sure if you can finish up in the time you said you would. In the last hour and a half that the two of you spent at the library, Donghyuck wouldn’t shut up, constantly commenting on everything and anything as he looked through your work. Now, he just stared at you, taking in every little movement.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that staring is rude?”

“I’m just admiring art,” he shrugged.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he gazed at you with the same soft brown eyes from a year ago.

“It’s distracting,” you muttered.

After an excruciating 60 seconds, he turned his attention to his phone.

“When are we going to eat an actual meal?” you asked Donghyuck, choosing not to comment on how he hasn’t let go of your hand ever since the two of you left the library.

His free hand picked up another perfume, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” you pouted, patting your stomach.

He chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned towards you, fairly close to your face. Your eyes widened, heart speeding up. After a moment of simply staring into your eyes, he stepped back and placed the perfume back on the shelf.

“That’s not the same one,” he commented.

“What?”

“We looked at all the perfumes in this place, and not one is a match,” he frowned.

“A match for what?”

“To your favorite perfume,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He continued walking down the aisle, wandering into the cologne section.

You watched as he continued to sniff around. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he sprayed another bottle, “I owe you a bottle.”

He remembered?

(You scoffed, shaking the last empty alcohol bottle. “You’re gone already?”

Grumpily, you got up. As you stumbled out of the bathroom, you noticed your ex down the hall, walking towards you.

“Yeah, I'll be back, I gotta use the bathroom,” they called out.

Your eyes widened and you pulled the nearest stranger into the bathroom with you.

“Can I help you?”

You didn’t answer him, taking the drink in his hand and gulping it down. When you finished it, you handed the cup back to him. “Yes, you can get me more.”

Donghyuck shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Enough?” you slurred, “I’m still sober!”

“You can’t even walk.”

“Yes, I-” you stumbled after the first step, falling into his arms.

“I rest my case,” he muttered, lifting you up on the sink.

“My mind isn’t...I haven’t forgotten yet,” you mumbled, head lolling to the side.

He stared at you for a moment before opening the medicine cabinet. You watched as he scanned the shelves muttering to himself about what he could use to distract you.

“That’s my favorite perfume!” you excitedly pointed at the unopened pink bottle.

“This?” he handed it to you, amused at the way your eyes lit up like a child opening a present.

“Yeah,” you enthusiastically told him.

Donghyuck closed the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, “Really? My sister bought it to gift to her friend.”

You sadly smiled at the bottle, “I ran out of this two days ago.”

He lifted your chin, “If we ever meet again, I’ll buy you a bottle.”)

You took the bottle of cologne from him and placed it back on the shelf. “I still have some left. Plus, it's your birthday. I should be getting you something.”

He thought for a second, “I guess you could treat me to lunch.”

With that, his hand tightened around yours and he dragged you off to a cafe nearby.

“What did I tell you about staring?” you told him, eyes still focused on the menu.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer?” he suggested, wiggling his phone.

“Don’t take a picture of me,” you deadpanned.

He smiled, “Too late.” You heard the shutter of the camera and you reached across the table for his phone.

“Delete the picture!”

“You’re going to knock over the drinks!” he warned, causing you to pause.

You frowned, sitting back in your seat. After a moment of you glaring at him, he sighed, “Give me your phone.”

“What, why?” you asked, placing a protective hand over your phone.

“Just, trust me,” he smiled, sticking out his hand.

“You know I don’t trust you, right?”

He sighed, standing up and sitting next to you, grabbing your phone before you could process what’s happening. He held up your phone and basically gave himself a photo-shoot using your phone. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the photos that he took.

“Why did you take so many?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He was already looking at you. Your breath hitched when you realized just how close his face was to yours. His lips looked just as soft as you remembered them.

(Maybe it was the way his promise resonated in your ears, or how sincere his eyes looked, or how plush his lips looked, but you had the sudden urge to kiss him. And when the door opened, you were reminded of why you initially pulled Donghyuck inside the bathroom - to hide you.

If he rejected you, that would be your excuse. With that thought in mind, you pressed your lips against Donghyuck’s. Your heart was uncharacteristically beating fast in your chest because Donghyuck didn’t move.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” your ex quickly said, unable to see your face.

Once the door shut, you backed away, “Sorry my-”

He cut you off, cupping your face and pulling you in. You melted into his arms. The kiss was firm and way more addicting when he returned the favor. He tasted like beer, along with a hint of something sweet. One hand cupped your face and the other wrapped around your waist. You slipped your arms around his neck trying, attempting to pull him closer as your need for oxygen grew with each passing second.

He pulled away, admiring the fast breaths that pushed past your swollen lips.

“I think your ex is gone,” he muttered, forehead leaning against yours.

“Who cares about him?” you asked in disbelief, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

You leaned in again.)

You cleared your throat, sitting back and taking your phone from him.

“It’s taking up a lot of storage,” you softly scolded, thumb hovering over the trash can.

But you knew deep down inside that you didn’t have the guts to delete the photos.

Everyone cheered as Donghyuck blew the candles.

“To Donghyuck!” Mark giggled, already drunk. You rolled your eyes at your brother who took another shot. Another round of cheers were heard and Mark nudged you, “Aren’t you going to drink?”

“Someone has to take care of you,” you excused, avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes.

He shrugged, taking the shot for you.

You patted his shoulder, “Don’t complain to me in the morning when you’re hung over.”

Your eyes wandered back to the birthday boy, his pointed hat sticking out against everyone else’s. He laughed along with his friends.

You couldn’t get drunk, not when he was here.

(You tugged on his shirt, “Just kiss me.”

Donghyuck hovered above you, “Love, we don’t know each other’s names.”

“y/n,” you quickly said, pulling him down, “your turn.”

He sighed, “Donghyuck-”

You didn’t waste time reconnecting your lips with his. It took all of his willpower to pull away from you, arms extended as he pushed himself up.

You stared at him with a hurt expression, “You don’t want me?”

“No!” he cupped your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, “the complete opposite actually.”

“So why-”

“You’re drunk, y/n,” he softly smiled, “and if in the morning, your feelings are the same, I’ll be more than willing to continue where we left off. After I bring you out on a date, of course.”

He sat up. “But right now,” he removed the throw pillows from his bed, “just rest. I’ll get you something to drink.”)

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

You finished tying another trash bag, “Soon.”

Donghyuck picked up the other two trash bags lying next to you, following you out to the trash bins. Both of you were silent until you got back into the house.

“You can go to sleep, you know,” you nodded towards your brother who was passed out on the couch, “you can sleep in his bed.”

He ignored your suggestion, continuing to help you pick up trash, “You avoided me the whole party.”

“Or maybe you were just having fun with your friends and I was running the party,” you suggested, not looking at him.

“So I didn’t imagine you leaving the room every time I entered?” he asked, pausing to look at you, “or how you suddenly had a conversation with the person next to you every time I smiled at you?”

“Even now, you won’t look at me,” he muttered, going back to picking up trash.

You were silent.

He sighed, “You have something that belongs to me.”

“What?” you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.

“You’re a thief,” he tsked.

You stared at him in confusion. He solemnly glanced at you, “taking my heart and just running away like that?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes before going back to picking up more trash.

“You swept me off my feet when you sang,” he laughed, “which is amazing because you can not sing.”

(“Hey Hyuck,” you hiccuped, eyes blinking slowly.

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you.

“I didn’t get you a gift.”

He chuckled, “You didn’t even know whose birthday it was.”

“But now I do,” you pouted, “so here’s my birthday gift.”

And you started off humming, before using the word ‘do’ to replace the words of the unknown song. Donghyuck’s heart sped up, the tune buzzing in his ears.

“You might not know it,” you said when you finished, “only my soulmate would.”

He knew the song, he knew it well.

“It broke my heart when they didn’t recognize it,” you closed your eyes, voice quieting down, “I really thought they were the one. They turned out to be a jerk who used me to make their actual soulmate jealous.”

And Donghyuck thanks the heavens up above that your ex wasn’t the one.)

You glared at him, “Thanks.”

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with adoration, “Don’t worry. Despite the off pitch singing, it still seemed magical, like you and I were the only people there.”

“Weren’t we, though?”

He furrowed his brows, “What?”

“The only people in the room?”

He dropped his shoulders, letting out a loud sigh. “I’m trying to be romantic!” he whined.

You chuckled, the first time that he’s heard you laugh since he saw you a year ago.

“Do you want to know the song?”

You humored the boy, “Okay.”

When he uttered the first note, you instantly knew the song. The various times you mindlessly hummed it passing through your mind. You bit your tongue, opting to listen to his angelic voice rather than join him. He changed the ‘do’s’ into actual words for the last line.

“I couldn’t believe that I fell in love in the city of love,” he looked down at the empty cup in his hand, finishing up the song, “but just as quickly as you appeared, you left. I didn’t even have your number.”

He opened his mouth before closing it, before, again, opening it. He turned to you, “Just an FYI, if you weren’t ready to jump into a relationship, I wouldn’t have forced you.”

(You remembered everything up until the point when he led you to his bedroom, inconveniently forgetting the part where he forced you to sleep rather than take things further. You awoke with a pounding headache, aware of the fact that this wasn’t your room. Donghyuck softly snored next to you, the sun making his skin look ever more beautiful. You brushed the hair away from his eyes, almost tempted to stay with him until he woke up.

But you remembered your broken heart and all the energy you spent while being in a relationship. Last night, you promised yourself that you would take a break, take time to focus on you. I mean, you were in Paris for crying out loud, might as well enjoy it.

You chuckled, it’s not like you guys were soulmates or anything. With one last glance at Donghyuck, you picked up your belongings and walked out the door.

Even you were soulmates, then you guys would meet again, right?)

“I’m sure you would’ve,” you softly smiled.

He nodded, “but you needed a break, huh?”

“You didn’t need to be a rebound, Hyuck.”

He grinned, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Hyuck?” you repeated, “but everyone-”

“You’re not everyone,” he interrupted, “you’re my soulmate.”

You felt giddiness churn in your stomach, “I like it when you call me that.”

And then you gasped, “I never got you a birthday present!”

He laughed, “Out of all the times, you remember now? It’s not even my birthday anymore.”

You pouted, “I’m sorry! I meant to buy one when you weren’t looking, but you were attached to me the whole day. And then at the party, Mark was drunk so I had to make sure everything ran smoothly-”

“Sweetheart,” that nickname made you forget anything else you were going to spout out, “it’s fine. You gave me the best gift yet.”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “you.”

You gave him a ‘really?’ look.

He laughed, “Okay, okay. How about we go on a date tomorrow, or today since it’s like 1 o’ clock?”

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

“Or, we can pick up where we left off,” he winked.

263 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 07 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

The Calm Before The Storm

• Bruce's POV •

I'm suddenly awake by a scream. Sitting up abruptly, I take in the silence. A bad dream probably. Running a hand through my hair, I lie back down, staring at the ceiling. Then I hear it again, a call for help and another yell.

(Y/N).

As soon as I recognize her voice, I'm already up, taking the key to her room and running there. Is she hurt? There's nothing in there that would cause an accident. When I'm close, I hear groans, like a cry.

But when I open the door, I find her on the bed, hugging her pillow tight. The soft light coming from the window reflects on the many tears on her face. What is it that scares her so much? She's breathing fast, hands clenched into fists.

Without thinking, I lie beside her, delicately touching her shoulder, trying to wake her up as softly as I can.

“Wake up.”

• (Y/N's) POV •

A voice calls you, and you're pulled away from your terror. You know who's calling, and you immediately feel safe. Bruce is saving you from the nightmares, and it seems like whenever he's in the dream, the bad ones don't come again.

“Bruce.” He's lying behind you, so you take his arm, pulling it over your waist. “If you hold me I won't be scared,” you mumble, moving closer to him. “Don't leave me.”

“I won't.” His illusion answers, and it feels so real. Why can't this be real? Because you're a villain, and he's the hero... Because you would never be brave enough to do this in real life. And Bruce would never want to hold you like this.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

His voice is low on your ear, and you can't help but smile at the name he calls you. You feel his chest moving as he breaths. “This isn't real.”

“Why can't this be real?”

“Because nobody would love me.”

“You're wrong.” His thumb caresses your chin, and you smile again.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” you mutter.

“Me too.” His answer seems familiar as if you've already had this conversation before. Maybe in another dream. “Now get some sleep.”

“Ok.”

You're not scared anymore. With him, you know you'll be safe.

•••

You're happy today. You had a good night sleep, and you're one year older, which means you managed to stay alive for another entire year. And you're celebrating it out of that hell hole Belle Reve. You're brushing your hair, smiling to yourself when you hear the door opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey, Bruce!” You exclaim, leaving the bathroom.

“I brought you this. But it's not your gift yet.” He shows you the plastic bag he's carrying.

“What is it?”

He searches for something in it, showing you a box die. “I had these for a while. It's the closest color to your natural hair.”

Hesitantly, you take the small box from his hand. It seems to have two more in the bag, and some other things. You knew he didn't like your hair. “Thanks...” You mumble, wondering if dyeing your hair would make him like you. Looking away, you make your way to the bed.

“You don't have to do it you don't want to.”

“I get it, Bruce. You want me to look normal.” And as quick as that, the day is ruined. Bruce doesn't like you, obviously, look at you. You're Havoc, a criminal. You can't look at him right now, so you put the box on the nightstand and lie down, pulling the blankets to cover your head. “Can you just bring me breakfast and leave me alone, please?” You can't deal with it right now. The best you can do is dream... In your dreams, Bruce hugs you, so tight... In your dreams, he's yours.

“(Y/N).” He calls, softly.

“Get out, Bruce,” you beg.

“I don't care about your hair color. I bought you this in case you wanted the natural color back. It's not about me, it's about you.”

“Then...” You sit up, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed. “...What if I wanted to dye the roots lilac?”

“Tell me what you'll need and I'll get it for you.” His stare is intense, yet gentle. Slowly, he puts his hand above yours in the mattress. “You're beautiful. Lilac hair or not. Now, come. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” A smile comes to your lips as you get up to follow Bruce. He opens the door, and you give a little jump. “Are you taking me to see the gardens?”

“Yes. But you'll have to keep your eyes closed until we get there.”

Nodding, you close your eyes. Bruce takes your hand, and you cling on his arm. You walk slowly, mostly downstairs. You suddenly feel fresh wind on your hair and the lighting changes. You're outside. “Just a while longer now.”

“Alright.” You have to control yourself not to peak. Being here is already amazing. Bruce trusts you, right? He wouldn't do that if he didn't.

Stopping suddenly, you bite your lip. “Open.” When you do, you swear to God your heart stops.

There's a wooden table, and pink, purple and white balloons. A beautiful cake in the middle, cupcakes, colorful macarons... Confetti all over the place. You can't help but cry, but you don't try to hide it. You're still holding Bruce's arm, unable to move. Is it really for you? You don't deserve it.

“Bruce, I...”

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” He says, pulling you with him until you're at the table. “I hope you like it.”

“I... I don't even know what to say. My birthdays were like... Just robbery and then... This is...” You take a macaron, a blue one, and take a bite. “This is incredible.”

“That's not all.” Bruce walks around the table, taking two boxes he left of the bench, piled one above the other. “Your gifts.”

“Two?”

“Two. One for each month you've been here.” He puts them on the table, gesturing for you to approach. You're blushing hard now. “Open.”

“Alright.” Unable to hide the smile, you shily start open the biggest box. Inside, you find a beautiful, sparkly silver dress. As you pull it up to take a better look, the fabric is soft on your skin. It has a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps, bareback. “Do you think I'll look good in it?”

“We'll find out tonight at dinner,” Bruce answers with a smile.

“Dinner?”

He simply nods. “Open the next one.”

Taking a deep breath, you lie the dress down, focusing on the other box. Black high heels, Mary Jane flatforms if you're not wrong, with red bottom. It goes with the dress, apparently. “They look badass,” you say, holding one in your hands. “Are those for tonight too?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you... Nobody cared enough to give me something for my birthday. Not without me asking... Or demanding.” Shaking your head to push away the thought, you focus on what's happening now. “So... Thanks again.”

“Hey, no bad thoughts ok? No bad memories.” Bruce takes your hand over the table and you smile. “Now eat your cake.”

That's the sweetest morning you ever had. Bruce doesn't seem in a hurry to leave or to do anything else. You just sit there eating a little of everything. You take in the whole scenario, but Bruce is better than all this. Having him here with you... It's amazing. You never spent a birthday with someone you loved...

With someone you care about, you mean.

When it's time for lunch, you just start eating again.

“So... Were you here last night? Or did Batman went to patrol the streets?” You ask him, a hand caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I slept in yesterday night.” There's something weird in his voice, but you have no idea what it is. “What about you? Did you sleep well?”

Your mind floats back to the dream. It never felt so real, it's like your brain is pulling a joke on you. Maybe it's just your confused feelings playing tricks. You remember his arm around you, his chest pressed against your back, the warmth coming from his body... You'd give everything you have to make it real. Or everything you had, because now it's kinda obvious you can't claim those things. And you don't think you want to.

“Yes, I... I had the best dream and it... It made me feel safe.”

“Would you tell me?”

“I can't...” Whispering, you avoid his gaze. Does he dream about you too? Of course, he doesn't. “Good dreams mean something is working, right?”

“Yes, but that's not me. It's you... I just gave you a little push in the right direction.”

“Yeah... Uhm, it's getting late. I'll take a shower and read a little.” You need to go back to your room to think. The sun will start setting soon anyways.

“Do that. I'll call you when dinner is ready.” Nodding, you stand up and take your gifts, making your way back, but you stop when you notice he's not following you.

“Hey?” You call. “Let's go. Game Of Thrones book two is waiting for me.”

“You can go.”

Tilting your head to the side, you turn on your heels to look at him. “What do you mean?” You know the key is in his pocket.

“(Y/N), just go.” Even though the distance, you see a smile on his lips. “I won't lock your door.”

“Don't trust me too much, Bruce.”

“It's a little too late for that.” That said, he gets up, walking inside, and leaving you alone.

Taking a deep breath, you decide you can't deal with this before a long damn shower and some pages of the book. So you make your way upstairs, and you spend two hours in the bathroom, thinking. There's a lot going on in your head.

There's a part of you, a small part you figured out, that still wants to be Havoc. That part was what made you run and break the kitchen window. But there's something else entirely, another part, that wants the past to be in the past. The life you had out there was good. You had mountains of money, fast cars, expensive jewels...

Things.

You had plenty of things.

What Bruce gave you here, is beyond all that. He cared about you. Not because he has to, for being some of your employees. But because he saw something inside you that you couldn't. He looks at you with such kindness, he touched you so softly... You think you found yourself, the real you, behind all the walls you built. You had a hell lot of fun out there, in Gotham's streets... But at the end of the day, there was always the possibility of being caught. And for people like you, being caught means getting hurt... Badly. And there was emptiness too. Loneliness. It's not a good feeling to know people only care because they fear you. You know that now.

You know what you want. You want a better life. You have no idea how to get it, but you'll ask Bruce for help.

After the night falls, you put on the dress. It's beautiful, breathtaking. You look like someone else. The shoes make you a lot taller, but not as tall as Bruce. But you'll be closer to his lips, you're sure. When you turn around to see the back, you sigh to notice the bruises will be showing. Such a nice dress wasn't made for you... You have no idea what to do with your hair, so you have no option but to let it down. It doesn't look good...

There won't be anyone here, but you'll still feel misplaced...

A knock on the door makes you jump. “Miss (Y/N). Master Bruce is waiting for you downstairs.” Alfred announces.

You wish you had some make-up. You should've asked Bruce to buy you some. But now it's too late for that. Your hair isn't styled, your face is blank and the dress, which is supposed to beautifully leave your back exposed, shows off awful, disgusting bruises... But you have to go down there. So you breathe in deeply and walk out.

• Bruce's POV •

I hear the soft click of the high heels on the floor, and seconds later she appears, at the top of the stairs. It's impossible to hold back the smile that fights its way to my lips. I can't take my eyes off her as she carefully comes downstairs, a hand on the handrail. The dress fits her perfectly. My guess is that (Y/N) looks beautiful no matter what she wears, or what color she puts on her hair.

Her eyes wander around, to the lights, the chandelier, the table I set for us in the middle of the hall. And a smile, hesitant at first, takes over her features. From her lips up to her eyes, lighting her up.

“It's wonderful.” She says, stopping before me, yet avoiding my eyes. “I didn't notice how huge this place is. I would easily get lost.”

I'm looking down at her, taking her in. Her scent, delicate and unmistakable, draws me closer. She doesn't seem to notice though. “You'll learn,” I assure her, and she finally looks at me with funny eyes. She doesn't believe me.

“So you'll let me walk around the house now?”

“One more birthday gift.” I trust her. I saw as she broke the window glass, and punched through it, with my heart burning.

The thought of losing her that night suffocated me. Nothing scared me so much. But she suddenly stopped, and so did my world. Slowly, I watch as she stepped down the sink and silently walked away. That made me realize it's useless to pretend (Y/N) doesn't own my heart. It's in her possession, and she doesn't even know.

I walk beside her as she paces around, curious eyes observing every detail. As she comments on everything, I wonder where to go from now. From the acknowledgment of love. I've never been there. I never thought I'd be able to hold such a feeling, but (Y/N) has proven me wrong, as she's doing to everyone who thought she was a waste of time.

It's a lot easier to be Batman than to figure out these things. These feelings. I can't help but wonder if she feels the same.

She held me so close, on those nights she thinks I was a dream. She said it herself, that she could fall in love with me. Was it true? Is it happening? Should I ask? I'd know what to do if she was like the women who have tried to approach me. But it's (Y/N)... And I don't know what to do. My guard is down, and these feelings keep flooding my heart.

There's only one thing I know for sure. That my heart isn't my own again.

• (Y/N's) POV •

“That's the nicest thing someone did for me,” you admit, turning to face him. You have to focus on not letting him see your back. “It looks like a fairy tale.”

“I'm happy you like it.”

“I–” A soft song starts playing, coming from everywhere. A hell of a sound system he has. “There aren't many ladies to dance with this time, Bruce Wayne,” you tell him as he takes your hand, pulling you close.

“Good. That means I can dance with you all night.”

“You- you shouldn't say things like this,” you mutter, feeling his arms around your waist. Your hands lay on his biceps as he starts to swing from side to side, slowly. And yes, you are closer to his lips now. But he'd still have to bend down a little... You mean, if he ever considered kissing you. Which he probably never did.

“Why not?”

“Nevermind... Just...” You wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies standing close. You smile to feel his thumb caressing the bare skin on your back. “Bruce, I could never pay you back. Not only for this but... For everything you have done for me.”

“I'm not asking for anything in return.” He takes one of your hands, but when he moves you to spin around, you stop suddenly.

“No,” you mutter, going back into his arms. It was supposed to go completely unnoticed, but you feel his eyes burning on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you mumble, eyes on his chest.

“(Y/N)? Didn't you promised to be honest?” You stop dancing, and he steps back a little, an index finger on your chin, pulling your head up until you're looking into his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I... The dress is absolutely beautiful but... My back is all wreck and it looks so awful that... This dress wasn't made me someone like me... It just... My skin is still all bruised and...”

“I don't care. You're beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you have to control yourself. You want so badly to kiss him... And when he says things like this it only gets worse. “If you keep saying things like that I might end up thinking you like me so... Don't.”

“Maybe I want you to think that.”

“What?” As you speak, some sort of alarm goes off. Two loud beeps. A pause. Them two more beeps. “What's that?”

“Something happened. Something bad.” Bruce pulls you close suddenly, placing a kiss on your forehead. Your whole body burns, and you gasp for air. “I'm sorry, I'll have to go.”

“It's ok. Go get them, Batman.” You say with a smile, watching as he steps away, slowly at first, before turning around and leaving.

Alfred serves you dinner, and he also acts more kindly. Then you go to bed, the feeling of Bruce's lips on your forehead still burning. You're almost falling asleep when the door is opened, and a very worried Bruce makes you sit up abruptly.

“Hi.”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.” He comes to sit beside you, and you hear a noise, like an airplane coming closer. “There's another Task Force X mission. And they demand you to go.”

“What?” It's hard to process what he's saying. “No.” You push yourself backwards until your back hits the headboard. “What- what do you mean?”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“No,” you repeat, hands covering your face. “Tell them I won't go.” You made a decision today, that you want a different life. Now, this... This can't be happening. Not now. Not when you're finally putting yourself back together. “Bruce, please.” You're crying, suddenly moving into his arms, tugging on his shirt. “I don't want to go.”

“Listen.” Bruce holds both your shoulders, his intense eyes on yours. “You're a strong woman. I'm sorry you have to do this and I promise... I promise you I'll never let them make demands of you again. You won't be their prisoner anymore.”

“Bruce...” You beg, eyes closing as you realize this noise is from their ship. They're already coming to take you.

“Listen.” He cups your face. “You'll track down some terrorists. They attacked a small town in New Mexico. You'll be doing something good, helping people.”

“Like you?” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“Like me, yes.” A quick smile crosses his lips. “I will free you from them. I promise.”

“But I'll come back here, right?”

“Yes. They'll bring you here when the mission is over.”

The noise gets louder and louder until it stops. They're here.

Bruce walks beside you, silently. You're shaking like a leaf. When you reach the front door, you hear people talking. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself that you can do this. You have to. Because you have to come back.

“Are you–”

You let the impulse fulfill its purpose this time. Pulling Bruce by the collar of his shirt, you tiptoe, crushing your lips on his. You swear you feel a little dizzy, but you don't give him time to react. Stepping back, your strength suddenly renewed, you open the front door and face the guards that came here to take you away.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce #bruce imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #ben affleck batman #imagine batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #Justice League imagine #justice league imagine

88 notes · View notes

ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 4

Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and having a nice Friday! Thank you so much for all your kind, supportive words! I’m so glad you are liking this series! Disclaimer for this chapter: I’m sorry if you like Ashley Wagner as a figure skater. To be honest she bothers me which is why I picked her for a little conflict that may or may not happen during the season lol

Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, let me know if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks!

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

“Nope. Try again,” you said as Andre tripped over his feet and missed the net. It was Monday morning at practice and you had just shown your group the three-turn move that Nate suggested you teach them. Andre groaned and looked over at you.

“What is the point of this?” he asked.

“The point is to be more fluid. You guys do this already, you just need to follow through with it and not be choppy,” you responded.

“Maybe we are choppy because we have to keep the puck with us,” Andre grumbled and tried again, still not entirely succeeding. To be fair, not many had been successful that morning.

“You guys just need to keep your momentum,” you tried to explain. They looked at you like you were crazy. You quickly skated over to the side and grabbed a stick, becoming exasperated that they seemed not to believe you that it would work. Taking one of the pucks, you quickly did the move and shot the puck straight into the net. You turned back to your group and laughed at their dumbstruck faces. Honestly, you were even shocked that you made, but you couldn’t show them that. “So that’s how you do it. Any questions?” They all shook their heads no. “Okay then, line up,” you said, deciding to keep the stick with you. Though it still seemed foreign to you, you felt more comfortable with it. As the group you had started to get it, you smiled and looked down the ice to find Nate already looking at you. He was at center ice in another group, and when you grabbed the hockey stick a few of the players and coaches stopped to see what you were doing. He didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze, but instead nodded at you with an impressed face. You shrugged and laughed, turning your attention back to your group.

The groups rotated about 30 minutes later, and Nate skated right up to your side. “Look who’s becoming a hockey player,” he teased you quietly. You giggled and elbowed him.

“I told you it wasn’t that hard,” you said, adding “and you owe me two laps.” Nate looked at you unimpressed.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Can’t have people thinking I’m a pushover, right?” you laughed. Nate rolled his eyes, but smiled at you as he took off.

~ ~ ~

The following day you stayed after practice, seeing as the team had Wednesday off. You were in the middle of your billman spin when you caught the outline of a blurred figure every rotation you made. You finished the spin, letting go of your right leg and checking out. Glancing toward the side, you found Nate standing there. He smiled as you skated over to him, shifting his weight from one foot to another slightly. That’s when you realized he had his skates on. “Mind if I join you?” Nate asked. You shook your head and smiled up at him.

“You aren’t mad at me for making you skate laps?” you joked. He chuckled as he stepped out onto the ice.

“Completely. Those two laps were the worst thing I had to do yesterday,” he answered with a wink. You laughed and skated around the perimeter of the rink with him. The two of you spent about two more hours on the ice, talking and doing different things, but always ending up back next to each other. You sat next to Nate on a bench off the ice to take your skates off while continuing your conversation. “So how did you get into skating? In Canada hockey is huge. I can’t imagine it’s the same in Southern California,” Nate asked after he had told you how he started playing hockey, and you smiled.

“So I was actually a dancer when I was younger. My parents put me in ballet when I was about 2 in a half because I was that hyper child that needed something to do,” Nate chuckled at that. “Anyways, I had an older cousin who was taking skating lessons and had her like 10th birthday party at the rink. I was 4 and one of my other older cousins offered to skate with me. And I fell in love the second I stepped onto the ice. I asked my parents after the party if I could start skating and they signed me up for classes. And you should know as of last week with Z that I am a competitive, stubborn little shit of a person so I jumped at the idea of having a coach and competing. And I never looked back. The rink is my happy place, it’s where I feel most myself, and everything that has come along with it is just a perk,” You smiled, drying off your blades and putting your soakers on them.

“Oh yes, an Olympic gold medal is just a perk,” Nate dead panned, but you could see he had a smirk on his face.

“I mean I worked hard for it. But it never felt like work because I love to skate,” you replied simply. Nate smiled softly at you, and you thought you would never get used to the way it made your stomach flutter.

“That is beautiful Coach,” he teased you, and you knocked your shoulder into his arm. He laughed as you barely even moved him, more just bounced off of him. “I’m being serious Y/N. Obviously you are an amazing skater, and we are lucky to have you.” Nate said sincerely. You looked away as you started to blush.

“Well you aren’t so bad yourself mister,” you tried to joke back to cover up how much his words were actually affecting you. Nate chuckled and shook his head.

“I just try my best. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but I try,” he admitted.

“But that’s all you can do, try. And you have a whole team behind you to support you,” you said, feeling that he was just like you; extremely tough on himself. “Plus, from what I’ve seen you’re a pretty good skater,” you smiled as he met your eyes after putting his skates away.

“Only pretty good?” he teased, and you laughed.

“Well there’s always room for improvement,” you said, teasing him back. Nate let out a chuckle and followed you out of the rink, walking with you over to your jeep.

“So, we have tomorrow off…” Nate started, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled and nodded, encouraging him to continue. Nate wanted to just ask you out, but he wasn’t positive where you stood. You were nice to him, but you were nice to everyone. He decided to go with what he had already offered before to be safe. “Do you still need to get a bookshelf?” As he asked, you couldn’t help as your smile became brighter at the thought of hanging out with him away from the rink again.

“I do actually. I was planning on doing that tomorrow,” you hoped you weren’t blushing too much, but Nate could see it and it only gave him more confidence.

“I can come over around noon. We could get some lunch then get your book case,” he suggested, trying to gauge your reaction. You smiled shyly, knowing your blush had to be evident at this point. Nate thought it looked adorable. Here you were, this Olympic gold medalist becoming shy when he was asking you to hang out.

“That would be great, as long as you don’t mind helping me,” you said. Nate beamed at you.

“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and said your goodbyes with the promise of seeing each other tomorrow. You drove home, nervous and excited for being able to hang out with him more one on one.

The next morning you woke up and busied yourself trying to clean up a bit. Not that you were messy, but you needed to move some boxes out of the way to make space for your book shelf. Getting dressed in some simple jeans and a black tank with a long, velvet deep yellow cardigan over it, you were just putting on your converse when Nate showed up at your door. You insisted on driving, sure that you would buy more than just a bookshelf and didn’t want to cram it all into his car. Nate directed you to a cute sandwich shop downtown for lunch, and the two of you talked the whole time about everything and anything. It felt so natural to be around him; the two of got along very well. Both of you being extremely competitive athletes, you also understood each other on a different level. Getting through lunch relatively unnoticed, Nate was amused when you were the one approached for a picture and not him. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked to the young girl and encouraged her to keep working on a jump she said she was having a problem with. After lunch, you and Nate went to Target and picked out a simple bookshelf. You also grabbed a few more things you could not leave the store without and Nate pushed the cart along, teasing you when you couldn’t pass up buying a few new books as well. Traveling from competition to competition always provided reading time, so you figured road trips with the team would provide the same.

Once back at your apartment Nate took over constructing the book shelf while you unloaded your boxes for it. The day carried on with playful banter and you could feel your crush growing even stronger. Nate was feeling the same. It was nice for him to be around someone who didn’t seem to care that he was a professional hockey player. He felt that he could really be himself around you. Between the laughing, lunch, shopping, and setting up, it was 7pm before you even knew it. “Do you want some pizza?” you asked him as you placed a candle on one of the shelves.

“Don’t tell my coaches,” he winked and you laughed.

“Never,” you said, asking him what a good pizza place to order from would be. “I’ll order a veggie one. That will make it a healthy meal.” Nate laughed and offered to pay, but you insisted being that he spent his whole day helping you, plus bought lunch. When the pizza arrived, you made your plates and sat at the table. “Do you ever miss being home with your family?” you asked after he told you all about them.

“I do yeah. I love them and being able to spend time with them. But I’ve made Denver my home also and this team is like family. I’m happy being here with them,” Nate answered sincerely.

“I think it’s really great you guys all have each other. I’ve never been much of a team player so I’ve never experienced that kind of bond,” you admitted.

“You have to have friends through skating though, right?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” you shrugged. Nate gave you a questioning look. “Girls are mean.” Nate broke out laughing. You laughed too and continued. “Once you get to a certain level, like you support one another but if someone your competing against falls you don’t feel bad. And I know that sounds horrible, but when there are only usually 3 spots on the Olympic team every four years, and the competitive span of a female figure skater is only like six years at senior level depending on how fast you learn, it’s a super competitive atmosphere. You tend to become better friends with people you won’t compete against. So like for me, my best friend is Jeremy Abbott. He’s kind of like an older brother to me. And I’m close to a few ice dancers. But any female single skater friend either tends to have gone through the ranks before you, or you start mentoring someone younger as they hop onto the circuit and you phase out. I think I’m better friends with girls I have competed against now that none of us are competing anymore. That’s just kind of how it goes,” you tried your best not to make it sound like you were a horrible person. Nate nodded thoughtfully, then grinned at you.

“Does this mean you have an arch enemy that we all have to look out for?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his question.

“Unfortunately, kind of. Playing the Stars should be interesting this year.”

“Playing the Stars is interesting every year,” Nate muttered. “Who is it?” he asked curiously.

“Don’t say anything ok. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t be talking bad about another skater in this program,” you pleaded. “Plus the press already thinks we don’t like each other. I don’t need to be the one to add fire to that flame.”

“Yeah I’d rather not talk to the press so your secret is safe with me Y/N,” Nate said, leaning in closer as to convey confidence.

“Her name is Ashley Wagner. She was annoyed that in my first competition I bet her and knocked her off the podium completely. And every competition since I had beat her,” you explained and Nate nodded along. “Also, if you meet her, don’t let her fool you. She seems nice, but she’s not that great. She purposefully tripped me during warm ups once. That’s when all the rumors started flying around.” Nate looked at you surprised.

“You didn’t do anything back to her?”

“No,” you laughed lightly. “That’s not what you do in my sport. I kept smiling and brushed it off best I could.”

“Alright. So we’ll have to protect you around her. You’re too nice,” Nate grinned at you. You smiled back and cleared both of your plates as you had finished eating.

“Shut up. She’s a coach too. It should be fine…I hope.” Nate shrugged at your reply, taking a seat on the coach and making himself comfortable.

“I don’t know. Hockey might just bring out the worst in both of you.”

“Gee, thanks Nate. Glad to know you’d have my back if it came to blows,” you plopped down next to him. Not too close, but close enough the you could knock your knee into his. Curling your feet up on the couch, you both smiled lazily at each other.

“Don’t worry Coach, I’ll be your back up. Tyson will probably be your hype-man,” Nate teased, reaching to shove your shoulder slightly. When his hand came down though, it rested slightly touching yours, and neither of you moved.

“Sounds about right,” you tried to laugh your nerves off. Nate decided to take a leap, and placed his hand over yours. He smiled when he felt you intertwine your fingers with his. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute. Nate was about to speak when your phone started to ring, ruining the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at your phone and seeing that it was Jeremy calling. You denied the call, but your screen just lit up again. “Speak of the devil. I can call him back later. I’m sure it’s not important.”

“It’s fine. It’s getting late, and we have practice tomorrow so I should probably go,” Nate said, letting go of your hand and standing up. You were going to kill Jeremy.

“Well thank you for coming over and helping me,” you said as you walked Nate over to the door.

“Anytime,” Nate responded, stopping just outside and turning back to you. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Put together a book shelf?” you raised your eyebrow, hoping you weren’t over analyzing the moment the two of you just had. Nate chuckled and reached out for your hand again.

“No. Lunch, dinner, this,” he squeezed your hand for emphasis. You blushed and nodded. “A book shelf if you really need another one,” Nate added, making you giggle.

“That would be nice,” you responded. Nate grinned at you, and with one more squeeze of your hand he dropped it.

“See you tomorrow Y/N,” he said, backing away from you.

“Get home safely Nate,” you said, smiling at him till he turned around and walked down the hallway. You shut the door and locked up, walking back to the couch and the now 6 missed calls from your best friend. You called him back with a sigh. You didn’t give Jeremy a second to talk when he answered. “You better be dying to have called me this many times.”

“Calm down, I just wanted to talk to you. Why weren’t you answering?” he laughed.

“Nate was over. I think we were having a moment and you ruined it,” you complained.

“Shit…sorry!” Jeremy responded. There was a pause, then he spoke again with excitement. “Now tell me all about it.” You laughed and launched into the story about your day, all the meanwhile looking forward for the season to begin, and to be able to see where things were headed with Nate.

tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #Cutting Edge

89 notes · View notes

craftypeaceturtle · 4 years

Text

A is for Arrival...?

Summary: Remus and Janus are shopping ready for the new arrival for their family.

Note: The start of an AU and series because I’m just a sucker for any type of familiar sides. Romantic Demus and Royality.

Next Part: B is for Baby Time

“Hey Jay?” Remus suddenly stopped; his eyes enormous.

“Yes, dear?” Janus put on a dramatic Victorian tone, his spine straightening with his hand frozen poised with the packet of washing up sponges.

“Do we need to get birthday stuff?” Janus immediately scrunched his face, “No wait! Listen. You celebrate your kid’s birthday every year so surely you celebrate his first ever one ever. Right?”

Janus stared into the distance as he dropped the sponges on the floor, “Call your brother.”

“No,” Remus whined but still pulled up his phone and promptly shoved it into Janus’ chest, “He’ll only make fun of me if I ask it. If you ask it, then maybe he’ll presume he’s the stupid!”

“Did he celebrate Logan’s first ever ever birthday? What would you even call it? First day of existence?” Janus frowned as he speed dialled the number.

“If he did, he didn’t invite me!” Remus shrugged before picking up the sponges. He immediately crowded into Janus and smooshed himself into his shoulder.

They picked up on the second ring, Patton’s sigh answering. Something that they probably weren’t supposed to hear. “Hello Roman. We just have a quick question,” Janus chirped.

“Hey Janus. It’s Patton by the way. Wow, another question, huh?” Patton, meanwhile, gave Roman a stern look and thrusted the phone at him again. Roman pulled a face as he shrugged and ducked back down behind the sofa. Frowning, he put it on speaker so they could both suffer, “What did you want to ask?”

“Should we celebrate our baby’s first ever day? Like a birthday but for their very very first birthday?”

“What!” Roman shrieked before leaping back on to the sofa; ever so suddenly finding the strength to talk.

“What do you mean ‘what’! God, he’s such a douche,” Remus muttered.

“I’m a douche, oh am I? Why would you celebrate a baby’s first ever day. It’s their first ever day in this world! They get overwhelmed and scared so easily. It’s a big scary world out there and you’re going to shove a party in their face! The baby is barely old enough to move it’s own hands! It’s a baby!” Roman complained while Patton giggled.

“To treat this seriously for a second, when you finally get your baby, the very last thing you want to do is mess around too much. After all this time, all that waiting, you finally get this tiny fragile baby. A tiny itty bitty baby. All you’ll want to do is just sit there and watch them quietly. A party is the last thing you’ll think to do. Heh, me and Roman even forgot to eat that day and only remembered hours later,” Patton spoke softly with his own memories uplifting his annoyance. Roman smiled and knocked their shoulders together.

“...So is it worth buying like finger food in case we forget to eat?” Remus interrupted.

“Uh... yeah? I mean, yeah that would work,” Roman fumbled.

“Okay. Cheers. Bye!” Remus called out while Janus rolled his eyes, “Wow. We really need to get them something for putting up with all this.”

“Well I’m going to keep talking to them, you weirdo.” Janus ran his hand through Remus’ crazed curls but he was quickly shrugged off as Remus went to evaluate which bleach was best for their toilet, “How are you two?”

“Yeah, all’s good here! Just your typical day, what are you doing?” Patton chirped.

“Baby shopping mixed with some normal shopping. Extremely exciting, I’m sure you’re jealous,” Janus felt his voice go soft at just the mere mention of his coming baby.

“Aww! That’s so sweet,” Patton sighed, “I miss that so much about Logie. Baby clothes shopping is the only reason worth becoming a dad.”

“Oh Pat! Such slander, I’m impressed,” Janus laughed.

“Oh hush! Everyone knows that baby clothes are the best cutest things in existence. Aw, are you going to buy Halloween clothes! Me and Roman saw some adorable skeleton onesies today and I came this close to buying it for the baby.”

“Yeah, I think at this point we’ve bought him more Halloween clothes than normal baby stuff. That’s the whole reason we still have to do some shopping. There were these pumpkin shoes and socks. Oh Pat! I swear if I wasn’t so macho and cool, I would’ve cried. Baby shoes are just so tiny!” Remus raised a brow at his squealing voice. But then he also knew exactly what Janus was talking about just from his tone alone. Those shoes were actually pretty cute.

“They are right! Aw, do you know any more about the baby?”

“Well...” Janus drawled while Remus took a breath. They agreed that Janus was going to deal with this breaking news.

“We met up with the mother yesterday.”

“Oh! My! Oh! Oh, Jayjay! That’s amazing! How was she?” Remus quickly snatched the phone and flicked it to speaker. Janus raised a brow at him but he was only met with the most mischievous smirk back. He frowned but turned back to continue talking only now with Patton’s voice squeaking out across the aisle.

“She looked exhausted. I felt so bad for her. Meeting up for a coffee looked like the very last thing she wanted to do,” Remus said.

“Bless her,” Janus sighed, “She was lovely.”

“Aw, that’s good. We never really got to meet our surrogate, how come yours wanted to meet?”

“Well, she apparently had a bit of a health scare. All is good! Everything is all good! But she just wanted to sit down with us and actually go through everything that happened. So we sat and talked about the health of the baby. Again, all is good obviously. But... so... we may or may not have found out our baby’s gender,” Janus winced once the squeal erupted over the phone. Remus cackled at the amount of people who turned to look at them with dirty looks before he turned the speaker off again. Ah, yes wouldn’t be a trip to the shops if Remus couldn’t spread some mild chaos.

“What’s their gender!” Patton screamed before launching up from the sofa. Roman was giggling as Patton jumped up and down and spun him around.

“We’re having a boy!” Janus smiled. He would deny the glow in his chest for this rest of his life but he couldn’t help but grab Remus’ hand. Remus smiled, thankfully, and squeezed his hand with his own lovesick smile. Their baby boy.

“Oh a boy!” Patton squealed high enough for dogs.

“Typical, not one girl in this entire family,” Roman chuckled.

“Oh congrats guys! When’s the due date again?” Patton sighed.

“10th of December. I almost feel bad for the boy. He’s going to have to put up with the whole Christmas birthday combination.”

“I’m still upset that he wasn’t a Halloween baby,” Remus frowned.

They chatted for a few more minutes before Janus finally hung up. They were still holding hands- they would look exactly like a couple from a lovey film if they actually dressed like normal people rather than Disney villains. All they needed to do now grab was some more normal baby outfits. A very simple easy task. Just look at some clothes and chose some cute functional clothes.

But every single time... every single time, they would find the most abnormal baby outfits possible. That and they always spent a good ten solid minutes of staring at the tiny shoes. They looked like build-a-bear shoes. They didn’t even look real.

“I can’t wait until he arrives,” Remus mumbled as he picked up a hideous orange dinosaur patterned jumper set. Janus tried to hide the smile but he quickly placed his head on his shoulder as they stood there.

“Neither can I. He can’t come soon enough. Just like how you can’t put back that gross set soon enough.”

“You don’t like it! I think it’s cute.” Remus tilted his head as if that made it cuter.

“He’s so not going to be an orange baby.”

“You don’t know that! Does he even need a colour?”

“You’ve got green, I like yellow. He also needs a colour. While we can still have control over what he wears at least,” Janus stated like Remus was a toddler trying to argue that the sky was green.

“So we both have our ugly colours. Then he also needs an ugly colour too! Orange is a disgusting colour!” Remus thrusted the jumper in his face.

“Oh totally exactly, dear,” Janus rolled his eyes before he then felt the passion erupt from him, “Okay. Firstly, for your information, yellow is a beautiful colour thank you very much. You’re the one that chose the grossest colour of green to embrace. He can have purple,” Janus winced as he guided Remus’ hand back down to the shelf.

“Purple?”

“Yes. A beautiful colour. Not only does it screw over superfluous ridiculous gender roles, it also is close enough to match our dress senses,” Janus stated with a proud look. Remus opened his mouth but then snapping it shut with a respectful nod. Yep, that sounded like a plan.

They eventually found some normal tiny eeny weeny pair of jeans and they used all of their collective strength to stay clear of all the Halloween clothes and bought some presentable jumpers. Janus was finally starting to get fed up with standing around in a shop before he realised that Remus’ eyes kept flicking to a shelf behind them.

He never made any move to actually go look at whatever it was and he never mentioned it. Janus found every reason to keep looking at the same pairs of stripey socks to give him time but he still said nothing. It was so uncommon that Remus felt shy about suggesting something. What could be the harm? “What you looking at?” Janus asked while exaggeratedly turning around.

“Um... I just noticed...” Remus drawled off. It was just a discount shelf. It was stacked with just random broken items that clearly no one ever take any interest in. Remus shyly sulked up to it and pushed aside the chipped mugs and torn notebooks without any hesitation. He pulled up a baby blanket.

It was the exact same incredibly soft material all baby stuff was made from. The stuff where your hand magnetised to its softness. It was a quilted baby blanket in a pastel lilac. It was cute but it wouldn’t be on a discounted shelf without reason. There was a large smudge of black marker on its corner. But as Remus held it up, Janus laughed. It wasn’t quilted. It was sewn to be a spider web pattern around the blanket. Clearly an old Halloween gimmick.

He turned to ask if Remus was all ready to go then and was immediately punched in the stomach. Remus was all teary eyed and awkwardly looking anywhere but him. His fingers brushed through the blanket over and over again.

“Oh Reem,” Janus cooed and tugged the blanket from his grasp but he didn’t let go.

“I don’t even know why I’m tearing up!” Remus pressed his arms against his face. Janus felt himself tearing up as well. Something about how Remus’ voice would go all wobbly and pitchy when he was on the edge of tears just always got to him, “Just... oh this is so fucking stupid.”

“Well you’ve got us both crying in a shop at 9 in the morning. I’d say it sounds pretty dumb,” Janus smiled.

“Just... he could be our little spider. Just like how I’m your octopus and you’re my snake,” Remus’ voice was practically crumbling away. Janus felt a disgusting childish tear slip down his face.

“Oh Reem.” Janus hugged him, only so he didn’t have to experience the embarrassment of people seeing his husband’s gross taste in blankets of course.

“How much spider stuff have we bought him! Like that would be perfect. And this is purple and spider!” Remus felt a tear escape his control too but he just buried his nose in Janus’ hair.

“Oh you are such a nightmare of a husband. I’m taking you back to the husband shop and refunding you,” Janus groaned, he broke away and snatched the blanket from his grasp and shoved it into their trolley. At least it was cheap. Plus they would probably end up staining it with gross new born baby vomit anyway.

#My writing #sanders sides #deceit sanders #Janus Sanders #remus sanders #fluffy #fanfic #roman sanders #patton sanders #demus #royality

27 notes · View notes

shoyodon · 4 years

Text

Stories

𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Words: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: language, Tattoos (?)

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU FUNKY LITTLE VOLLEYBALL MAN HERES YOUR GIFT BOKUTO STANS!! THIS IS MY LONGEST WORK YET AND I TRIED TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT WITH MY STYLE OF WRITING!! this is a lot more story based than dialogue based so enjoy!

After having the privilege of being with Bokuto for so long, there are many stories you have to share. Not a day went by that felt dull. There was always an adventure or antics for the two of you to be up to no matter the time, weather or place.

Here's some of the stories that you can recall like they were yesterday.

Seven years ago when you agreed to assist the boys volleyball team as a temporary manager, the day you met Bokuto. This is a story you enjoy to tell, not once failing to perk up when a friend or relative asks how the pair of you met, eager to share what, to you at least, feels like the love story of the century.

When you saw him for the first time, a smile on his lips as if it was made to be there, chatting loudly amongst his less vocal friends, throwing his hands in the air and jumping around to emphasize points in his story was like breathing for the first time. He was so animated, speaking his mind without a thought weighing him down. It was a skill he had mastered, that you hadn't yet. When he noticed your presence awkwardly standing in the doorway of the gym, he decided then to greet you for the first time. Which, in time, he realized was the single most important and life changing decision he ever made.

You became friends within the first day, exchanging numbers as practice ended before waving goodbye to Bokuto, who stood in place, watching you walk away. Seconds after you turned the block and were no longer in view, a buzz rang from your pocket, and on your phone sat a notification from the number just recited back to you.

The night was spent texting back and forth until your eyes got heavy, and only when you closed your eyes, resting your head on the pillow beneath you did you realize just how speaking to Bokuto came so easy. For the first time you didn’t hesitate when talking to him as you did everyone else. There was no fear of judgement if you said something wrong, or asked something silly. It felt like he listened to you and wanted your opinions and commentary, just as you wanted his.

Late night texts turned into calls that lasted until the next morning, small waves in the hallway became lunch dates and study sessions in the library, and the lone walk you took home every night after practice became a nightly adventure as Bokuto insisted he would come along, despite his home being in the complete opposite direction.

The months after your friendship bloomed, when he finally realized his feelings for you. (-Or, rather, Akaashi did.) Which is also one of the fondest memories you have.

It was the first day since you met him that he was nervous.

Akaashi wasn’t blind, but he was aware how blind his best friend could be to his own emotions. The way Bokuto’s eyes softened when you spoke, or how Bokuto would smile more with his eyes when he was talking to you, but still you offered the biggest grin to urge you to continue to speak, or even how he’d cut people off who interrupted you when you spoke, loudly declaring that you had something important to say and was talking before being “rudely” interrupted, even if you weren't saying anything even relatively significant at the time.

He could understand just how head over heels his best friend was, despite his best friend being completely oblivious to it himself.

The day Akaashi asked Bokuto if he liked you is the day Bokuto’s entire world shifted. Now that he was aware of his own feelings he felt as if everything would change. How would he ever face you? You probably didn't even like him back. Could the two of you ever be friends again if he couldn't get over his crush on you? A million thoughts raced through his mind at once, and the far away, almost anxious look on his face caused Akaashi to blurt out the obvious solution to the issue at hand.

“Why don't you just tell her and see what she says?”

So he did. The same day.

He told his coach quickly before practice that he'd be a little late then sprinted to the nearest convenience store. He hadn’t a clue how to confess or what girls in general liked, so he went off of the things he'd seen on T.V.

He bought a large bouquet of flowers, chocolates and some of your favorite snacks, paying quickly before stuffing everything in his duffel bag. He ran back to school, tossing his bag in his assigned gym locker before getting to practice. He didn't wave at you, nor did he shoot you a glance, and the entire practice he was off his game, hitting shots out of bounds or bouncing directly off the blocks and into his court, however none of that resinated enough with his mind to pull him into his “emo mode.”

After practice was over he ran to the locker rooms to change, being interrogated promptly by the rest of his team on his odd behavior. Their gripes and concerns landed on deaf ears as Bokuto got dressed, grabbed his bag and ran from the room, greeting you in your usual spot outside by the gym doors. Sweat started to bead along his forehead, rolling down his red cheeks. Raising a curious brow, you ask him if he's okay before he bows quickly, apologizing loudly before unzipping his duffel bag, revealing what used to be a full bouquet of roses, but has now been reduced to stems with loosely hanging petals littering the greenery, and a couple squished snacks.

He pushes the ruined bouquet into your chest, yelling in a higher pitch than his usual tone that he’d like to take you out on a date, slowly he looks up, and just then realizes just how tattered the roses were. He quickly retracts his hands, putting the stems behind his back and his shoulders slump. Silence ensues for seconds, which felt like hours to the boy, before your laughter rings loudly upon his ears. It wasn’t in a mocking tone, but pure joy. Slowly the flustered boy giggles too, before the pair of you are sitting, laughing with tears brimming the corners of your eyes on the concrete walkway into the dimly lit gym.

After the laughter died down, the happiest “I’d love to.” left your lips.

The night he met your parents, which is still your parents favorite story to retell seven years after that night.

Bokuto was nervous, yet again. Since your relationship officially began and the pair of you put a label on yourselves, he had become a bit more accustomed to this feeling of nervousness. He felt like he could lose you, and it scared him. So the day you brought up meeting your parents it struck such an intense feeling of fear in him you had to physically jostle him out of his thoughts.

It took a long time and a lot of convincing but he agreed. The Friday night of the dinner arrived and Bokuto showed up at your house an hour early. As you opened the door, still adorned in pajamas, hair only half way done. He stood with a bouquet of flowers, this time, untarnished.

His hair was done nicely, dressed in a button up shirt, half of it tucked in and the other side hanging out and a belt with nice jeans. You stared up at him, eyes wide, partially because you didn't expect him so early, before walking onto the porch with him and closing the door behind you. He stuttered out apology after apology, saying how Akaashi told him he should arrive a little early to make it seem like he respected your parents time, and to prove to them he REALLY respected their time he showed up an hour before dinner.

Giggles left your lips as you fixed his shirt, adjusting his collar and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of your sleeve. You spent a couple minutes talking him down until he was relatively more relaxed before inviting him in. Instead of berating him like he thought they would, your parents laughed it off when they heard his explanation.

His flowers were put in a vase and your father sat to speak with him over various things. You left the room with a kiss on your fathers and Bokuto's cheek, heading up to your room to finish getting ready while your mother busied herself in the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later you came back down to the sound of raised male voices from the room you had left the two men previously. There your father and Bokuto sat, talking animatedly about sports. A friendly argument had broken out, both yelling out their opinions to each other with lighthearted smiles on their faces.

You stood, watching them for a moment, admiring the fact that it took a mere thirty minutes before Bokuto had already made friends with your father.

As dinner was served the four of you made your way into the kitchen, sitting down at the table next to your boyfriend, who was less tense, but still somewhat on edge as he had yet to properly speak with your mother. The dinner went smoothly, your father and boyfriend cracking jokes and playful jabs at each other, and your mother finally getting in a good conversation with Bokuto.

The night was coming to a close, plates empty as the four of you just chatted idly. Your hand was resting in Bo’s beneath the table, rubbing a soothing thumb over the back of his hand whenever he tensed up at a question or topic. Before your father decided it was time to reel it in for the night, he asked Bokuto one final question.

Your father asked Bokuto's intentions with you, the playful glint in his eye disappearing. The look he was giving the boy made him want to disappear. Eyes wide, mouth now suddenly dry despite the multiple glasses of water he had throughout the night, he stuttered.

“Uh-I-i um- well I love her! I mean- no I don’t-shit-oh god- excuse my language- I do love you is that too soon? By the look in your eyes it looks like you're going to say it's too soon and if it's too soon I take it back!” words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even really comprehend what he was saying, your parents sat back stunned and you sat there mouth agape, still holding his now sweaty hand.

Your parents excused themselves awkwardly after a moment, stifling laughter as they made their way upstairs, and the two of you sat in silence, as Bokuto apologized quietly you cupped his cheeks, pressing an ever so gentle kiss to his lips

This, as well, was another first for the night.

His entire body was ridgid, before melting into the feeling of your lips against his slightly chapped ones. As you pulled away, Bokuto hesitated before leaning in once more, pressing a quick, simple peck on your lips, then retreated as well, noses just barely brushing against each other.

That was the only response he needed.

The night the both of you had a little too much to drink, another favorite of the two of you.

The both had downed just enough beer to get tipsy, having celebrated Bokuto's 21st birthday the night before, and still having some alcohol your friends so gracefully left over for you both, you decided to not let it go to waste and chugged down a couple bottles.

Drunken words and kisses were exchanged in the living room of your shared apartment, giggles and hiccups echoing through the home. Bokuto, whose head was resting on the couches arm, perked up, looking at you, whose body tucked away between his slumped over form and the cushions on the couch.

‘Y’know...I want...a tattoo…” he muttered, returning his focus back to the ceiling which for some reason had him entranced. A laugh shook your body, causing him to giggle as well. shrugging , you asked him why he wouldn’t get one, to which he responded, eyes wide, with “I...I dunno…” before jolting up and running, or more stumbling, to your shared room to grab his phone and wallet.

“Lets go now! Now let's go!” he yells, bouncing up and down excitedly. Seeing no problem with it in your intoxicated state, you agree, pulling on shoes while Bokuto called an uber, then driving, at 9pm on a Saturday, to a parlor. As you arrived, Bo hesitated at the door, turning to you with a pout. “Wait..” he grumbled, hunched over in thought. “if i get one you have to get one as well!”

And that's how he convinced you two to get matching tattoos, the first letter of your name etched into the side of his ribs, and a big “K” etched onto yours.

The morning after, the killer headache and soreness from your ribs woke you. Barely remembering what happened, you stumbled to the bathroom, waking Bokuto up in the process, and pulled your shirt up in the mirror. It didn't even surprise you. A breathy laugh left your lips as Bo entered the bathroom as well, lifting his shirt off to see what his looked like. The biggest grin stretched across his face, sprinting back to the bedroom to get his phone, promptly taking pictures of your tattoos and sending them to Akaashi.

As the years progressed, and Bokuto had his rise to fame as a professional athlete, stories like these dwindled. He had a job now that required him to be away more than not, and loneliness creeped in every once in a while, despite Bokuto’s determination to call and text you every day before bed.

Offhandedly, the week he was home, you mentioned that its weird feeling for him on his side of the bed and it being empty and cold. That same day, maybe an hour later, Bokuto left. Then, two hour later, he returned home with a small Shiba Inu puppy.

“I didn’t know which one to get...but I saw you liked a meme with this dog in it on instagram...so I got him…”

And so, without even questioning his antics, the two of you named him Taro, and spent the next week with your new addition to the family to get him accustomed to living there.

Now, seven years have passed, and here you lay, the morning of your anniversary, Taro's large sleeping form warming the bed next to you, while your boyfriend worked hard in a training camp in America so he could obtain his dream of being recognized as one of the most powerful players in the Japanese league.

The ceiling seemed especially appealing as you recounted the last seven years, a faint smile on your face. Even though Bokuto wasn't able to be here today, he sent you a short: “I love you, relax for me today, happy anniversary!” text, presumably as soon as he woke up, which was enough for you.

You sat up, bare feet hitting the cold floorboards of the apartment the two of you have, more recently, began to pack up as to move into a new house. Your first house, together.

Standing up, you shook your head, rubbing your eyes and made your way to the bathroom. There you took a long shower, taking more time than usual to cool yourself down. Afterwards, breakfast was made and served for yourself and Taro, and the two of you laid comfortably snuggled up on the couch for more than half the day.

As 3pm rolled around there was a soft pounding at the door down the hall, Taro got up quickly, trotting to the door and waited patiently for you to open it, standing alert in case it was an unwelcome guest.

You unlock the door quickly, not expecting anyone to show up today, and as the door swings open you notice a line up of the MSBY boys you’ve come to love, all standing at the opposite end of the hallway from you, facing you as you open the door, each holding a couple roses, some holding stuffed animals and others holding boxes of your favorite snacks, adorning nice button ups and jeans, all with somewhat tired expressions (presumably from being jet lagged), but big smiles. (excluding Sakusa)

As you look around, taken aback, but an excited look amongst your features, you finally notice Bo, standing at the end of the line. He smiles widely and rushes in to hug you, spinning you around excitedly before laying the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I know you weren’t expecting me home, but I may have lied just a bit about when the camp would end...I couldn't miss our anniversary.” he chuckles. Too shocked to speak, he gently grabs your hands, drinking you down one last time before he takes one hand off of yours, moving to his back pocket. “So...I wanted to keep this a surprise...mostly because I felt like seeing you shocked like this would be really cute- but also because It’d make doing this..” He mutters, slowly kneeling down on one knee in front of you. “A little bit more romantic.”

That was your breaking point. Sobs fall freely down your cheeks as you watch him kneel in front of you, the most genuine, loving smile on his lips. The one that never changed or altered even after all these years. There he knelt, rambling on about how much he loved you. How he was so happy he could spend the last seven years with you, and that calling you his wife would be the greatest privilege you could grant him. The man you loved the most, the man that single handedly changed your future the day you met him, wanted you, and only you, for the rest of your lives.

You said yes, of course.

And as he slid the gorgeous diamond onto your finger, he pulled you in for the tightest hug. Soft sobs leaving both of you as he held you. And seconds later, the rest of the MSBY boys tackled the two of you in a hug as well, all either sobbing (Hinata and Atsumu) or somewhat teary eyed but would always deny it when this story would, ultimately be retold (Sakusa).

Out of all the stories you reminisced upon today, you just knew that this one would be your favorite.

#bokuto kotarou #happy birthday bokuto #kotaro #haikyu #haikyuu #bokuto haikyuu #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kotarou x reader #bokuto x reader #x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #fukurodani #fukurodani x reader #haikyuu fukurodani #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto birthday week

38 notes · View notes

imaginethathaikyuu · 5 years

Text

countdown to christmas - day 6

kuroo tetsurou - fireplace

hi friends. a bit of a warning: today’s scenario is quite sad, mainly because sad is something i’ve been feeling a lot here recently. my point with this is to show that while christmas time is happy and cheery and fun, sometimes it’s really shitty, too. and if your christmas season isn’t going well, you’re not alone.

i promise tomorrow’s scenario will be brighter. but just in case sad isn’t your thing and you need something to read, here are some links to happier scenarios:

yesterday’s christmas prompt some kuroo fallin in love with reader akaashi getting a sweet birthday surprise

potential trigger warning: mentions of (the whole thing is about) a pet passing away gender neutral reader

The festive music playing on the radio cut through the dead silence that seemed to be suffocating you. And while it would typically lift your mood and force you into a familiar jolly state of mind, right now you were sure nothing could do that.

You couldn’t help but realize how ironic it was that such a happy song was playing, though.

Life goes on. There were people struggling everywhere every day. Bad things will always happen. But life as you know it always continues; the world doesn’t change just because your life does. Happy songs play on the radio even when you’re miserable. The sun still comes up every morning, no matter how desperately you wish to be left in the dark.

And nothing you said would make Tetsurou, or yourself, feel better.

You had to drive home from the animal hospital. He tried getting in the driver’s seat like usual, but you wouldn’t let him. And you couldn’t stop glancing over at him, as if you were checking to make sure he was still there.

He was good at holding himself together, that’s for sure. But you knew once the dam broke, it’d be broken for a long time.

The drive was hell. It only took ten minutes but it felt like an eternity. The entire time, you just wanted to get out of that damned car - Kuroo was feeling the same. But when you pulled into the driveway, neither of you made a move to get out.

Tetsurou was the first to speak, though. “I don’t want to go in,” he said, and his voice was breathy. He was struggling to speak. You could see the wall he’d built up starting to crack.

You reached out and ran your hand along his slumped shoulder; he looked so small sitting in that passenger seat, and your eyes were tearing up looking at him.

He laughed as he said, “it’s gonna be so quiet.”

He was clutching the collar that sat in his lap; he hadn’t let it go since the vet handed it to him.

“I know,” you whispered.

“I knew it was going to happen,” he said, shaking his head as if that would make his all of his bad feelings go away. He was really trying to be strong, you could tell. “But… I just hoped that - that maybe…”

“Tetsu,” you said sadly. You didn’t really know what you were supposed to say. “They did everything they could…”

And then it was quiet again. That’s probably what he needed right now.

But it was getting cold, and you two couldn’t sit in the car forever. You’d have to go inside some time - sooner was probably better than later.

“We should go in, babe,” you said. “I’ll make you some tea, alright?”

“Okay,” he sighed, and you had to reach over and give him a kiss on his cheek just to make yourself feel a little better.

You led him inside, which was much harder to do than either of you would like to admit.

Tetsurou hadn’t come home to a quiet house in years. He doesn’t remember the last time he didn’t have a big brown furry monster - also known as Rex - welcoming him home. A part of him still expected to see the dog running down the hallway, tail wagging and ready to jump up to give him a few welcome home licks.

He wanted to pinch himself until he woke up from this awful dream.

He walked into the living room alone, for some reason still nervous to look under the Christmas tree to see if there was another broken ornament, even though Rex hadn’t been home since this morning. He sat on the couch and looked over at the fireplace, which so desperately needed to be lit, but he couldn’t look past the three stockings hung there. One for him, one for you, and one for Rex.

“Fuck.”

Of course something as awful as this had to happen days before Christmas. This was meant to be the happiest time of the year. But money he should be spending on dog food and new toys was now being put towards a vet bill. The new treats he had bought yesterday would now just be left in the cupboard. The cute Santa costume he had always made Rex wear on Christmas was just going to keep collecting dust.

And the collar he held was now useless. So was the name tag hooked to it.

When you came into the room and called his name, he nearly fell off the couch; he was so lost in thought that he couldn’t even hear you coming in the room.

You sat his tea down in front of him and went to the fireplace to start it up; it was way too cold to go without it. You turned on the Christmas tree lights, knowing Tetsurou liked when they were on, and then you flicked on the TV and let the random Christmas movie playing fill the silent room.

“Tetsu, baby,” you started as you sat down on the floor in front of the heat of the fireplace. “Will you come sit with me?”

He felt like a zombie as he forced himself to slide off the couch and onto the floor so he could scoot over to you slowly. He was sure his eyes were hollow looking and his cheeks were tear stained - he didn’t know how you weren’t laughing at his appearance, and honestly he wouldn’t blame you for it.

When he was in your reach you didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek again - twice, actually, just for good measure. And he let his head fall onto your shoulder as he felt his eyes filling up with more tears.

“I love you,” you told him, because you didn’t want to say anything else.

“I know,” he whispered.

“So did he,” you said. “He loved you so much, Tetsu… you were the best he could’ve had.”

He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know whether to be sad or pissed or a weird combination of both; he didn’t know if he should be proud of himself or just feel sorry. But his confusing feelings did nothing to stop his cries; in fact, he’s sure that’s partly what he’s crying about.

Rex was old. Kuroo had gotten him at age 12 - he was 25 now and he knew he was lucky Rex had lived for as long as he did. And he saw it coming, he really did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

He still managed to laugh at himself, though. He must’ve looked like a kid, sitting there crying in your arms; it was almost pathetic, but he couldn’t care.

“I just hope,” he started, crying and hiccuping his way through the words, “I just hope I made him as happy as he made me, you know?”

“You did,” you replied, laughing at the memories your words brought up. “You did, Tetsu. Couldn’t you tell? He was so attached to you.”

He laughed with you. “I know,” he replied.

He was going to have more room in his bed now. But he was really regretting all the times he complained about Rex taking up so much space. He never thought he’d miss being forced out of his own bed by that near bear sized dog.

He’d give anything for one more night like that. One more chewed up shoe. One more broken Christmas ornament. Hell, even one more puddle of piss to mop up.

But as he sat there in your arms, listening to the crackling fireplace, he forced himself to come to terms with it. This was his life now - he wasn’t a dog owner anymore. And he should be grateful that Rex was in a better place - god, he hoped he was in a better place. At the very least, he wasn’t hurting anymore. Tetsurou would choose this pain over what Rex had been feeling recently any day.

“Tetsu…”

You had been wanting to say something since the car ride home, but you didn’t know when the right time was. You weren’t sure there would ever be a right time, but right now seemed good enough.

“I know we got him a lot of treats and toys for Christmas…”

Kuroo nodded, unsure what you would say next.

“What if we took all that and donated it to the shelter?”

Even though the thought only made him cry more, Tetsurou really liked the idea of that. If he couldn’t give it all to Rex, he wanted to give it all to the dozens of dogs who deserved it.

“I’ll pick up some food, too,” he mumbled. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“There’s no rush,” you said, but Kuroo disagreed.

“We have to take it before Christmas,” he insisted. “I usually give Rex his treats early, anyway…”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. This was the saddest you had ever seen Tetsurou, and the worst thing you had witnessed him go through. But somehow, he was still thinking of others. He was still so giving and generous, even though you knew he was running on empty.

You knew donating the supplies would make him feel better. That’s why you had brought it up, after all. You admired him for that.

“I love you,” you told him again. “So much.”

He nodded and mumbled, “I love you, too,” before wiping his eyes and pulling his head away from you. He glanced at the fireplace, then over at the TV, and then at the Christmas tree. Just last night, Rex was laying underneath it. Now, the floor was empty.

But at least he had those years with him. And at least he had you here now, holding him up when all he could think about doing was falling down.

He didn’t know why, but more than anything, he felt grateful. He was probably going to cry more, he’d be upset for awhile, and he’d miss Rex forever. But Tetsurou was grateful. For time spent, for years of happiness, for you. Maybe this Christmas wasn’t going to be very happy, but that’s okay. There’s always next year.

#uhhhhh i know this is weird to write about lmao #but as always i am portraying my own current struggles/feelings through fanfiction #i hope u enjoy it anyway #thank u tetsurou for suffering for the sake of my fanfic <3 #christmas countdown 2019 #Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu one shot

269 notes · View notes

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

Endless Struggle (Saeran x Reader)

Saeran's birthday is approaching and you don't know what to get him. At least, until you hear him play the piano.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

Saeran's birthday was coming up.

Well, not really—his birthday was almost two months away—but the special date you'd circled in red on your calendar was definitely approaching, and quicker than you wanted it to.

What should I get him? You wondered, daydreaming about all the ways you could draw forth his cute smile. The boy was normally so stoic: distant and hardened from years of taking Elixirs and doing the Savior's dirty work. But beneath all the anger and rudeness you knew that he had a softer side, even if he only showed it to you.

What to get him...

You couldn't buy flowers.

That was your gift last year. And the year before, you'd helped him select the magenta blazer that he'd loved so much he bought three more pairs of it—though was back when he was still Ray, and before he donned the black suit.

You groaned.

You really, really wanted to get him something good. Something he'd love. Something that would wash away the tired look in his eyes, leaving only the fresh expression of wonder and happiness.

But what?

Since the new year had begun, you'd been wondering what to get Saeran at the back of your mind. Months had passed, and you still had no idea! Woe is me, you thought, pouting.

But if you couldn't come up with anything on your own, then you'd just need to find Saeran and ask him. Not directly, of course. A girl has to be subtle.

"Saeran~" You cooed, knocking and opening the door of the Development Room where Saeran spent all his time. The boy blinked at you in surprise.

"(Y/N)?" He asked warily as you wrapped him in a hug from behind. "What are you doing here? Don't you have work?"

"I got bored!" You explained. "And the Savior has given all disciples the day off to prepare for tonight's Recruitment Ceremony."

Saeran sighed, and you saw the hardness fade from his eyes ever-so-slightly. "Then shouldn't you be off, preparing?"

"I prepared last week. I didn't know that she'd be giving us special time off. So come spend some time with me! You've been cooped up in this room for, what, the past twenty hours?"

Saeran looked away, saying nothing.

"Even longer?" You frowned.

"Doesn't matter," He muttered sullenly.

You rolled your eyes, pulling Saeran's arm. "I never said I'd go with you!!" He shouted, but he allowed you to drag him along nonetheless. Honestly, you didn't know where you were taking him, only vaguely aware that you somehow needed to find out what his new hobbies were so that you could buy him a fitting birthday gift, but for the present moment all that mattered was that you'd managed to steal the boy from his work, and your eyes were bright with the promise of a whole afternoon with the hacker.

"The flower garden?" He asked, somewhat disappointed. "You know I don't like this place."

That much was true. Your legs brought you here on your own, perhaps reminiscent of the time you'd kissed Saeran here three years ago. No, you reminded yourself firmly. The man I kissed was Ray. Not Saeran. Saeran doesn't see me that way. And it hurt to admit it, but that was the truth.

"There's a specific flower I wanted to show you," You informed Saeran, wrapping your hand around his and pulling him to the spot you'd been at yesterday. "I think you might like it."

"I don't like flowers," Saeran murmured, but he let you lead the way.

You stopped at the location where you'd spent at least ten minutes the prior night, swooning at the beauty of the plant, and let out a cry of disbelief. "It's not here!"

"Hm?" Saeran raised his eyebrows. "What's not here?"

"Yesterday, there was a really pretty plant bush that was growing multicolored flowers! The petals were (h/c) and white...and the buds were mint-colored and (e/c)...and I thought that you'd think it was cool because it reminded me of us." You frowned, unable to hide how upset you were. "Why would anyone pluck such a beautiful flower bush?"

You stared at the spot where once a lovely plant had grown and now all that was left was its dying roots, wallowing in your frustration.

"H-hey, don't be so sad," Saeran murmured, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. He sighed when you didn't respond. "Alright, come here," He murmured, outstretching his arms toward you while averting his eyes, a light pink painting his cheeks.

A soft smile graced your lips when you saw that. Saeran's hugs were rare, almost as rare as his smiles, and you never failed to cherish the moments when he was feeling kind enough to give one. You readily stepped into his embrace, finding comfort in his arms as they wrapped around you, ignoring the whispers of other believers in the gardens.

At least, you were able to ignore them. Without even looking up, you could tell that Saeran had intimidated them into silence with one of his glares, tightening his hold around you protectively.

You understood why the believers would whisper.

You and Saeran were an unlikely pair in the Mint Eye, as different from each other as day and night. Only you had seen the soft side of the white-haired boy, and to the rest of the world, he seemed like the persona he had adopted to hide his inner self: cold, mean, and scary.

You, on the other hand, were a ball of sunshine, always smiling and laughing and were friends with everyone.

Your friendship made little sense to others, but you knew that it was sound. Saeran was the mint and you were the magenta; the yin to your yang, the cool and the warmth, the shadow and the sunshine.

You pulled back from the hug, smiling warmly up at him. "Let's go!" Yet again, he didn't question you as you pulled him through the maze of the Mint Eye's halls, walking and walking and walking...until you couldn't pretend anymore. "Um, Saeran?" You asked, hesitant.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm lost."

Saeran laughed, not a condescending or arrogant laugh but a genuine, amused laugh. "I was wondering what you were doing here."

"'Here?' Where are we?"

"See that door over there?"

"Yeah."

"That's my room."

You almost choked. You'd never been in Saeran's room before, never even been close. He'd always visited yours whenever he came looking for you, and in all the years you were at the Mint Eye, you never bothered asking about his quarters because you knew that members of the Savior's council all had rooms at the very top of the Mint Eye, far beyond what anyone would consider normal walking distance.

"Is that why there were so many stairs?" You muttered, suddenly feeling tired at the thought of going all the way back. You'd wandered around for at least forty-five minutes before finding this place.

"What, are you tired?" Saeran teased, before realizing that he had the truth of it. "Oh. Well, here, come into my room, then."

You raised your eyebrows. You'd never been invited into another man's room...not even when Saeran had been Ray. What message am I sending if I go into his room? You wondered, before feeling stupid. Dummy. Saeran doesn't see me that way, and he never will.

You followed Saeran, surprised at how polished and neat everything was. "It's so bare," You murmured. His room was scant, furnished with only a small bed, an empty desk, and a piano in the far end. "There's so much empty space."

Saeran nodded at your words, straightening the quilt on his mattress before sitting on it. "I tend to sleep in the Development Room, so don't come here much. Even my clothes are there. This room is more of a...big closet, when you think about it."

You strolled over to the piano, studying the wood carefully before pressing a key. The note, rich and full, resonated throughout the room, but when you pulled your finger away there was dust on it.

"Ah, the Savior gave that to me when she first formed the Mint Eye. That was back when...when I still had free time to play." Saeran glanced at it wistfully, before crossing his arms. Something about the memory seemed to make him uncomfortable.

"Play something for me," You murmured, patting the mahogany piano bench. The instrument was a baby grand in all its glory, it was such a shame to let it stand forsaken and unplayed. "Play anything you want."

Saeran seemed hesitant at first, but he finally gave in to your hopeful eyes, taking his time to wipe the dust off the piano before settling his fingers over the keys. The silence before he began playing was overwhelming, not even the sound of breathing audible as you waited for Saeran to begin playing.

Then, the music started.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes. It was such a soft melody. Truly beautiful in every way: delicate, peaceful, calm. You basked in the tranquility of the phrase, loving every moment of it until Saeran moved on to the next, which you loved just as much, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Without you even realizing, the melody had turned from a gentle kitten to a roaring lioness, loud and confident and bold, with Saeran throwing all his energy into hitting the keys, letting the notes echo off the walls until the air was filled with nothing but you, him, and the music.

The melody was climbing now, crescendoing to what you could only imagine would be the true climax of this piece, the burst of passion and excitement that the entire beginning had been leading up to. Saeran's fingers danced, nimble like dolphins jumping out of the water as his fingers soared from key to key, black to white, note to note.

And then he stopped.

"...Saeran?"

You opened your eyes, gazing down at the boy who was now staring sullenly at the keys. "I never learned past that. I don't know how it goes," He muttered, closing the fallboard and the conversation in one, abruptly standing up.

But you wouldn't give up.

"Do you...know the name of the piece?"

"No."

"The composer?"

"No."

"How about—"

"If you're so interested in the piano, you can play here when you want. Alone. When I'm not here." You flinched at the roughness of Saeran's words, and he seemed to notice, his once hard gaze turning apologetic. "Sorry...here, I'll take you back."

You let the boy lead you back to your room in the Mint Eye in silence, mentally noting the path that he was making in case you ever wanted to return. At the back of your mind, you cursed. You'd originally sought out Saeran so that you could figure out what to get him for his birthday, and you were no closer to finding a gift at the end of the day than you were at the beginning.

Unless...

You stopped Saeran, telling him he could leave since you "had to use the bathroom," and that you knew the way to your room from here.

He raised an eyebrow at you as you dashed off, calling after you that the bathroom was in the opposite direction, but he could only smile as you continued running, well-aware that you were off on another one of your spontaneous quests in the Mint Eye.

Little did he know that this time your journey would lead back to him. Two months in the months in the future. As his birthday present.

You couldn't suppress a smile from forming on your face when you finally found yourself in the Mint Eye's music library. The Savior had ensured that her believers would find true happiness in salvation, and so she had rooms for every pastime imaginable, music included.

It took you three minutes to find the piano section, whereupon you instantly began playing CD after CD, skipping tracks when you heard their beginnings, listening cautiously for the signature opening that Saeran had played for you less than an hour ago. The piece has to be in here, you knew, resolving to return later when you had to leave for the Recruitment Ceremony.

And you held true to yourself, returning the following day and then all the days after.

You were almost done with all the pieces that started with A after two days, and it took you even less time to go through the B's. Finishing the C tracks took you a while, though, and by D you began to worry, fearing that you'd forgotten the melody of the piece.

What if by the time I come across the piece he played, I've already forgotten the tune of it? You plugged in the first in the E's with hesitance, worried that your efforts were futile. What if the piece he played isn't even in the music library?

Whatever your concerns were, though, you didn't let them stop you from continuing. Evening stretched into night and night stretched into morning and you still hadn't heard anything that remotely resembled the piece Saeran had played for you until you were halfway through the E's.

You paused as soon as the track began playing, almost unwilling to believe it.

Is this the piece? You wondered, listening to the soft opening. It was so soothing. So peaceful. So familiar.

But as the melody progressed and the piece continued, all the doubts in your mind faded. No question, this was the piece Saeran had played for you. It had the same variations in tempo, the same polyrhythmic texture, the same characteristic changes in dynamics, the same musical elegance.

You felt your heart swell as the peak of the song approached, and felt tears of joy prick your eyes when the track continued playing on where Saeran had stopped, completing the phrase and soon completing the song.

This is it, you realized, pulling the track out and studying its name.

Endless Struggle.

You checked the CD and the corresponding sheet music out of the music library with your keycard, making sure that the halls were empty before exiting. You felt giddy with excitement, elated at the fact that you'd actually found it.

This would be the perfect gift!

You could wrap up the sheet music in a nice package, and give Saeran a chance to complete the memory he had started when he'd been younger. Except... You frowned when you considered the flaws in your plan.

Saeran told you himself that he spent nearly all his time in the Development Room. If you gave him a piece to learn, it would be akin to you adding onto his workload. In other words, a bad birthday present.

You frowned once you'd reached your room, staring at the five sheets of paper in your hand before throwing them up in the air, watching as they floated to the ground. Useless! You thought, feeling foolish. For nearly two weeks you'd spent every free moment in the music library searching for this piece, and it was all for naught! Even the name was indicative of your predicament. Endless Struggle, you thought, realizing that finding a birthday present for Saeran really would be a struggle.

Though you still hoped it wouldn't be an endless one.

You flopped onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall asleep without even bothering to take your shoes off. Sleep came quickly, after over a week of depriving yourself of rest to search for the piece.

In your dream, though, you were pulled into the past. Into a time forgotten, back before you'd been in the Mint Eye.

It was the first dream you'd had in a long time.

It was a short dream, the kind of dream that's more of a flashing memory than a true scene, but the recollection stirred something in the depths of your soul. I took music lessons, you realized, remembering the pain and childhood frustration you'd endured at your parents' request. I learned music theory. I studied composers. Somehow, amidst all the Elixirs and responsibilities of serving the Savior, that piece of your past had been lost to you, existing only in the very depths of your mind.

I learned music, you realized.

And when you awoke, immediately gazing at the five pieces of sheet music that were still lying haphazardly on the floor, you realized that all the knowledge you'd absorbed as a child was still with you.

You had never studied piano specifically, but surely you could learn, right? You checked your calendar, taking a quick glimpse at the number of days between then and Saeran's birthday. A month and a half, you noted, glancing back at the pages.

It would be a struggle, that much was certain.

But if it was for Saeran's sake, it would be worth it.

It's Tuesday, you noted, trying to remember what Saeran's schedule normally looked like. He shouldn't be expecting you for any reason, so he wouldn't notice if you were gone, right? You recalled Saeran's words: "If you're so interested in piano, you can play here when you want. Alone. When I'm not here."

He'd said those words to get you to shut up, no doubt, but he never revoked his words.

And it seemed that you were going to take him up on that offer.

You cautiously made your way to Saeran's room, only having to turn back and change paths twice before you finally found yourself inside his private quarters. It felt indecent, being in there without his explicit knowledge, but you were doing it for a good cause.

I'll learn this whole piece and play it for his birthday, you decided. That way he gets to hear the ending and I don't add to his workload and maybe, just maybe, I'll get to see another one of his smiles.

But it was easier said than done.

It took a good hour for you to get the first line down, and that was at half the tempo that the piece was supposed to be. And, if you remembered the piece correctly, this was the easy part.

But by lunchtime, you'd found your bearings, and the first phrase sounded...almost decent. You clapped your hands together as soon as you finished a playthrough of the two lines you'd just learned, incredibly proud of your achievement.

It was slow, but it was steady.

You didn't leave the piano bench until it was time for your disciple duties, but after a week of skipping meals and putting all your free time to practice, you'd mastered the first page. In truth, the rate that you were learning was abysmal. You spent at least five hours in Saeran's room every day, just repeating the same part over and over again until your fingers obeyed your brain—which meant that it took you roughly thirty hours to get down one page.

And there are four more to go.

But depressing as the speed of your progress was, you knew that you couldn't expect anything better, with your lack of a background in piano. On the bright side, you were able to master the second page with ease, but the third page...well the third and fourth pages were what made the song feel like an endless struggle.

By the time you'd learned the full piece, you'd probably pulled out hundreds of strands of hair just over the fourth page alone—but when you were able to play the full melody, from start to finish, without messing up, it suddenly seemed worth it.

You smiled, gazing down at the fingers that had brought the piano to life, overjoyed. You'd finally mastered the full piece, and you still had a week until Saeran's birthday. And it sounds just as beautiful as when Saeran played it, you noted with pride, before playing the piece from start to finish once more.

It felt surreal, as you played. It was as if you were high on the music itself, unable to feel or hear anything but the notes as you carried the melody to completion, completely lost in the world of music, so detached from your physical surroundings that you never heard the click of the door as someone entered.

You finished playing the final perdendosi notes to the piece, allowing the sustain pedal to let the notes linger in the air before you released, concluding not just the piece but your practice.

"So that's how the piece ends." You heard a familiar voice murmur, and you turned around sharply. "I'd been wondering why I was seeing less and less of you...but this may have been worth it."

There, right next to the closed door, stood Saeran, leaning back against the wall with a soft smile on his face. The very smile you'd been aching to see.

"No!" You exclaimed, suddenly upset.

Saeran raised an eyebrow at you. "What's wrong?"

"You..." You bit your lip. "You weren't supposed to hear it until your birthday..."

Saeran laughed, walking over to you where you still sat on the piano bench, sitting down next to you. He had a twinkle in his eye, and you could tell that hearing the piece played to completion had brightened up his day. "This will be my early birthday present, then."

"But now I have to come up with something new!"

"Shhh, princess," Saeran murmured into your hair, giving you a hug as he used the affectionate nickname you hadn't heard in so long. "Don't worry about that. This...this was perfect. I never imagined that you'd do something like this."

You turned to Saeran, your eyes still wide at the mention of the nickname 'princess.' The last time you'd heard it had been from Ray, back when he loved you. Your heart began to beat faster at the very thought, but you were quick to control your emotions.

"I just wanted you to be happy," You murmured, returning the hug.

The boy looked down at you, studying you quizzically. "(Y/N)..." He murmured, before turning his head away from you with a huff. You didn't notice it, but if you'd looked closer you would have seen a faint blush on Saeran's cheeks.

"Youalreadymakemehappy." His words came out in a jumble, more of a mutter than anything else, and though you strained to hear what he was saying, you couldn't process anything more than a few words.

"What?" You inquired, trying to get the boy to repeat himself. "Say it louder. And slower."

Saeran exhaled sharply, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, making it even messier and only contributing to his ruggedly handsome look. "Don't make me say it again!"

"Say what?"

"Agh! (Y/N)!" He said your name in a whine, and at that point, you began to notice how red his ears were and how a rosy pink had bloomed on his cheeks. "I said," He turned his face to you, eyes turning serious. "You...you already make me happy."

You smiled up at the boy, immediately bouncing the compliment back at him, to which he groaned.

"Not like that...I mean..." Saeran looked at you for a second, before sighing, and all the frustration from before left him, leaving only a nervous expression. He brought his hands up from your waist to your face, where he cupped your cheeks. "You make me really happy," He murmured softly before kissing your lips.

The kiss was surprisingly slow, more delicate than you'd expect from Saeran, who was usually so rough and callous in his ways. But you savored it, loving this side of him as well. It felt like a long time before either of you pulled away, the tension in the air suddenly replaced with a strange sense of calm.

You looked up at Saeran, unable to hide the smile from your face. "I think I just had an idea of what I do for your actual birthday," You teased, winking playfully up at the boy.

His face erupted in flames, and he immediately shifted back, unable to meet your eyes as he glanced instead at the sheet music. "Endless Struggle...so that was the name of the piece. How fitting."

"Yeah," You responded, showing him the fourth page. "The number of times I felt like giving up here really was made me feel like it really was an endless struggle. It's a pretty fitting name, if you think about it.

"No, I mean..." Saeran put the sheet music down, turning back to you. "Not being able to do this was the struggle," He leaned forward and trapped you in a chaste kiss, letting his lips linger before pulling back. "But I'm glad it wasn't endless."

You wrapped your hand around his, lacing your smaller fingers in his as you pulled him up to a standing position. "I am, too." As usual, you pulled him forward, leading the way as he followed unquestioningly, never caring where you were taking him as long as the two of you were together.

You led him all the way down to the dining hall, where you proudly took him with you to get dinner, never letting his hand leave yours. He gave your palm a tight squeeze whenever believers walked by, and as soon as they saw your intertwined fingers they knew: At long last, you two were together.

And nothing would be able to separate you two.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: oml I'm learning Endless Struggle right now and the fourth page looks like a special circle of hell crafted just for me aka I should have been practicing but instead I wrote this <3

Comment & Like

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

#saeran x reader #saeran #ray #ray x reader #savior #mint eye #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic #mysticmessenger #fluff #oneshot #sweet #cute #short #completed #piano #music #birthday

73 notes · View notes