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sugahbunni · 10 months

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BUCKET LIST ☆ 03

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AUGUST 14

dear diary, saiki hasn’t warmed up to me and it’s been a two weeks already. what am i doing wrong? am I too loud? do I talk too much? the girls are nice though, although i can see teruhashis eye twitch whenever she sees me talking to saiki. kaidou is lovely too, he brings me snacks and lets me ramble on and on about anything. nendou is chill too .. except for when he cannot read the room and drags me away from saiki. oh ! saiki thinks it's funny to ignore me when I try to talk to him. anyways … these supplements are really gross to take and the bruise that hairo gave me has not gone away completely. it's okay though, it's just something i got used to. it's a new week tomorrow and i hope kaidou brings me a pastry or something.

You shut your journal close and swing it across the room to your bed, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your bruising shoulder.

Okay it wasn't exactly Nendou's fault he tried jumping on your shoulders but shouldn't it be a given to not try when you're smaller than him? The swelling somewhat went down but the obvious black coloring was visible.

Hairo was concerned as to why the injury he gave you on your cheek was still there. All you could do was shrug it off and give him a playful smile.

Can't tell them yet.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you rush out of your house to meet your friends at the front gate. It was a daily routine, Kaidou and Nendou patiently waited for you before entering the school grounds while the others were already in class.

Although, this time it was different. It's Saiki waiting for you. A stupid smile plasters over your face, skipping over to him. You reach for his hand but he pulls back immediately. “No foolery, thanks” he says, brushing past you to go into the building. You snicker, running behind him to catch up.

Well that's new..

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AUGUST 18

Kaidou had gotten a bit sick and told Saiki to walk you home after school. Who knew he would actually listen to him? You try walking at the same pace as Saiki, matching his footsteps while struggling to come up with a topic. Your expressions go from confusion to amusement as you go through ideas. He glances at you, shaking his head. “Let's not talk. I am solely doing a favor for a friend” He mumbles, clearly avoiding eye contact at the moment. You bump shoulders with him purposely to see his reaction.

Saiki walks a bit further from you, his eyes completely focusing on the path in front of you two. "I drew a bunny in class, wanna see?" You ask, leaning in to see if his eyes answer you atleast. He side eyes you, as usual. You nod, taking that as a yes and pulling out your lined paper from your bag, a cutesy bunny lazily drawn on it. Saiki exhales loudly, taking the paper from your eyes and examining it.

You clasp your hands in excitement, smiling as he continues to judge your messy drawing. "It's alright, you draw usually?" He raises an eyebrow, passing back the drawing. You copy his expression, frowning at him and slipping the paper inside his bag. "Only when I'm bored, I put it in your bag for safe keeping!" You exclaim, raising your hands and counting off your fingers. "I draw cats too, lots of flowers and .." You furrow your eyebrows, thinking of what else you like to create. Saiki simply stares at the concrete, still attentive of what you have to say.

They sure do talk alot, he thinks. He glances at you, your face scrunches up as you seem to have forgotten what you have to say. He feels his face relax, he realizes something and he doesn't like it.

Y/n is not as irritating as I thought they'd be.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AUGUST 24

Kaidou and Nendou had left quite early because they had some “important” things to do. Your suspicions sparked up and you tried questioning them but they left you at the main doors.

Your lips turn into a frown, noticing the weather is a bit too gloomy. Once you feel a droplet on the arch of your nose, you let out a groan. “Man, I forgot my umbrella” you say, taking off your backpack and using it as a shield.

In the corner of your eye, you notice the blurriness of pink and immediately turn your attention to your left. “Saiki! Uhmm a little help here?” you squeak out, you can see him physically sigh. Yet he still walks over to you, no emotions present on his facial features. You give him a smile, his hand clutching an umbrella.

“Guessing you didn’t bring one” He points out, opening the umbrella and putting it over the two of you. You take this as a chance to get one conversation in. Saiki gives out plain answers as he answers your questions after question.

“You play video games?”.

“Eh”.

“You watch anything cool?”.

“Sometimes”.

“I wanna dye my hair the same color as you, Saiki”.

This sentence of yours causes him to peek at you, with a shake of his head he tells you, “I rather not be twins with you, thanks”.

You suck your teeth in disappointment, your brusing shoulder bumping into his. He takes note of this and frowns a bit. “Still hurts?”, “Well, obviously”, “Just wondering”. The bland responses you and Saiki are giving each other is starting to irritate you.

You puff, stepping infront of him to stop him in his tracks. His eyes show curiosity, waiting for you to say something atleast memorable. You inhale deeply, your hands behind your back and wondering why you need to be validated by him.

Maybe you like him, maybe not.

“Why don’t you like me?!” You demand, the rain pouring down harder as awkward seconds pass by of Saiki staring at you in complete silence. He drops the umbrella, sighing quietly. The rain dampens his hair, and you really wish this moment did not feel dramatic but it did. You hit him with a sour look, to which he really did not like because he snaps back at you. Kinda.

“Stop assuming things, I am simply keeping my distance. Let’s not overthink this”.

Your face drops, gazing down the heavy drops of water running down your legs and ruining the stickiness of your bandaids. Saiki follows your gaze, immediately putting the umbrella over you. You fold your arms in a childlike manner, waiting for him to offer kind words.

“Let’s get you new ones, okay?” He points down at your legs hesitantly, worried that you may say no to his suggestion.

To his surprise, you let your stubbornness go and nod with a small smile. “Your house, right??! Then let’s go”. You go under the umbrella with him and speed up the pace more than before. Saiki glimpses at you, your wet hair looking more luscious than usual. He feels sudden warmth through his chest, wondering why he even sticks around you. Maybe it’s because the gloominess of the day could not change your sweet but sarcastic demeanor.

Good grief, he thinks, I wish they were more infuriating.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AUGUST 31

dear journal or diary, whatever, i'm slowly but surely getting close to saiki but wait .. jeez, i feel so tired all the time. and pretty weak in the bones, i think it’s the illness ? haha, well that’s okay. but ! my parents have been filling up my diet with fruits and vegetables because of it which is sooo tiring. also, why did the doctor forget to tell me that random bruises will appear? i look like a rotten apple. it’s getting tiring to hide but it’ll be worth it once im better and cured! just gotta take more supplements ..

You drop your pen, look at the journals margins and see “october 5, doctor appt at 9am”. Your finger pads rub against the fresh bruises on your knees, your eyes drooping to a low level. You mumble out “Just .. have to take supplements” over and over. You rest your head on your cold pillow, your thoughts merging together into a mess.

Just have to take supplements, will I die? No, I like my friends. I hope I live. Doctor said last time I been making progress. It’ll be worth it at the end.

You spiral into a deep sleep after such horrific thinking, your dream consisting of you and Saiki playing tag you’re it.

“I got you!” You laugh, to which Saiki replies with a laugh louder than yours.

“You got me!” He replies, his whole aura full of fluorescent colors as your dream appears to end. The scenery fades away, waking you up and leaving you pondering. The dream was too rushed. You turn to your journal and scribble harshly on the naked paper.

dreaming of Saiki? that's so absurd. whatever, he's still rude and mean and i don't like him ! at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 4

The hallway is exceptionally quiet, all you can hear is your shoes click clacking. You had forgotten your regular school shoes and had to bring in fancier shoes than usual. Which almost got you in trouble with Matsuzaki but he was already yelling at Nendou for his stupid haircut .. again. Your books are tucked inside your arms as you walk hurriedly across the squeaky floor. “Okay just gotta get home .. just gotta-” THUD.

You look down in devastation, your clumsiness always comes out in the worst times and sadly, one of those times is now. Looking down at your scattered books, you kneel down and collect your books. You twist and turn to grab your favorite possession of all but ..

Someone’s foot is set upon your new and crispy book, you huff and swat their foot away. “Jeez, get your foot off! You probably have shit on it” You scowl, attempting to pull the book out of underneath their foot.

“Jane Austen”.

You slowly look up and see Saiki towering over you, but this time he isn’t intimidating or belittling you. He actually looks .. lovely? Okay, maybe that’s too much of a affectionate word. Although, the way the sunlight was reflecting off his glasses and the wind is slightly blowing his hair in a movie like manner-

Darn, the wind ! Who even opened the window ?!?! I can't find this lame excuse of a specimen attractive !

Carefully, you stand up, your books all jumbled up in your crossed arms. You cannot help but stare at him, but so is he, therefore you’re allowed to stare back right?

“Yeah” You softly utter, your blinking decreasing as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his hair to his lips. “She's a genius” Saiki bluntly comments, reaching down and snatching up your book. He dusts it off and hands it to you, his face softens up and you only notice this because you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

“That she is” Your eyes drop to the floor, your finger brushing against his as you grasp the book. You look up at his expression, expecting him to look at you in slight disgust.

He just looks at you blankly.

“Get home” he suggests, no, he tells you. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering why he even decided to converse with you in the first place. You watch him walk away in silence, your heart beating from the interaction.

He could have just walked by so why did he … your thoughts trail off, your fingers caressing your book cover. Maybe he’s not so bad.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 8

Physical fitness is not your strongest aspect, therefore gym class is not the highlight of your day unlike …

Him.

Your eyes wander to Saiki, whose turn it is to kick the ball and you’re right in front of him which makes you nervous. This is your first time having to play such game with him and you're praying that he's awful at it.

He might hit me or something .. no maybe he’ll be gentle.

You smile obnoxiously at him after the teacher blows the whistle, signaling him to kick the ball. He ignores you, as always. You see him visibly sigh as he kicks the ball. You squint, the ball seems to becoming directly to your face.

BAM !

The ball comes full force onto your nose, your head tilting back and you stumble back. You moan in annoyance, grabbing your nose and the spewing of blood spills on your gray shirt. You hear a faint “Yikes” and know it's Saiki’s antisocialness being aware that he hit you quite harshly by accident.

Yeah, this is going to leave a bruise. You can feel your head becoming light, your stumbling continuing as you feel dizziness. You collapse with a loud thud, and see a blurry image of Aren rushing to you along with Kaidou. Why am I always in pain ..

You wake up in a jolt, your lips trembling as the coldness of the room hits you like a breeze.

“Hey, you look awful”.

You spun your attention to your side, and see Saiki holding onto your finger. You look down at him with fear, solely because this isn’t like him? He notices the look on your face and immediately lets go, his coughing trying to cover up the tension in the room. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were .. okay” He says, sitting back on the spinning chair. His eyes seem to dart from every feature to another on your face. You clear your throat, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket on top of your lap.

“Did I bruise?” You question. Saiki just nods, holding up his phone’s camera to your face so you could see the atrocious injury on your nose. You wince, scrunching up your face to see if it hurts.

Yup, it stings.

Saiki clicks the camera button, causing you to groan at him as he tries to hide his smile as he turns off his phone.

"Memories" He insists, "I'll keep this to embarass you". You poke his arm excessively, in a way to hurt him but to not exactly cause pain. "Keep one eye open at night, Kusuo Saiki!"

The both of you continue to bicker, you did not take note of this at the moment but Saiki's eyes were glimmering. He truly is seeing you as a friend.

Perhaps, something else, he never knows nor does he want to know. All he knows is you don't irritate him as much as he'd thought you would.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 12

You’re piling up strawberries on Saiki’s lunch tray, he seems to not care but you know he’s definitely annoyed. You smirk as he places them back one by one on your tray, not even sparing you a glance.

“Hey, atleast try to look like you’re tired of my bullshit” You splutter, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you see that your efforts to make him flip out on you are not working.

“Such a potty mouth, huh?” He says agitatedly, his voice oddly raspy and low. Your cheeks immediately turn pink, you’re not sure if it’s his expression or the sound of his voice that has you all flustered. You look at your friends who are next to you and Saiki, but none of them seem to take notice of this conversation taking place.

You focus on Saiki again, struggling to speak but no words seem to slip out. He quickly cocks his eyebrows up in a teasing manner, dropping his chopsticks on his tray and fleeing the scene. Leaving you in awe but in a flushed manner.

That was .. hot of him .. ok Y/n what’s wrong with you !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 16

Kaidou and Nendou invited you to a pastry bakery, along with Saiki to try out some new sweets. So there you are, in your wrinkly school uniform to which Kaidou points out and you hear Saiki slightly snort at the comment.

You flick whipped cream at Saiki’s cheek from your strawberries and cream snack, his face falling to a stoic look. You instantly regret the decision as he wipes it off with a napkin. You slowly turn to Kaidou with a horrific expression, he just whistles and looks around as if he saw nothing. Nendou, of course, is devouring the heavenly angel cake slice he ordered. You feel a tap on your shoulder, you cringe at first, terrified to see Saiki's face. You awkwardly grin at him and he tilts his head at you, booping your nose to leave cream hanging.

You screech silently, using your bare hand to clean off your nose. He slightly smiles.

“What a pain you are”.

You blink slowly at him, wondering if what you saw is just another delusion.

Did he just smile at me ?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 22

With a mischievous smile on your face and your stable cell phone service, you call Saiki's house phone to invite him out for a bike ride. Crossing your fingers, you hope that his mother picks up, knowing that she’ll force him to go out with his school friend.

And .. she does!

Saiki is not so thrilled with the fact that you trapped him with you for the next four hours, but you really needed some alone time with him until your body gave out on you.

“I like your bike, matches your glasses” You say softly, patting Saiki’s lime green bicycle’s seat. It was double seated and you’re wondering if he brought this one out on purpose. “Don’t you have one with just one seat? You so wanted to be close-” he huffs loudly, “Just get on, try not to fall”.

You smile tenderly, watching Saiki slide onto the front seat. He pats the seat behind him with a blank look, urging you to hurry up.

“Oh right” you say, climbing on and carefully placing your hands on his shoulders. He turns to you with a small smile.

“I won't let you bruise” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You freeze, smiling sheepishly. Not knowing if you were suppose to hear that or not.

“Yeah .. I hope you don’t”.

So there you go, riding the neighborhoods with wind blowing at you both. Your hands cling to either Saiki's shoulders or waist.

He doesn't mind at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 28

You sigh, examining your face and legs in your body mirror. Your eyes trailing from bruise to bruise, trying not to laugh at how much of a color palette you are right now.

“This is so going to be the death of me” You mumble, plastering bandages on your leg injuries to avoid rising questions from your friends.

They already wondered, well everyone but Saiki how you got so many bruises and why they never seemed to disappear. Aren asked if you got into fights, you laughed with him and you shook your head no. Kaidou seems to be extra cautious with his surroundings when he's with you. It bothered you that he had to do that for you but he was just being protective.

Teruhashi once found your pills in a case in your backpack when she asked to borrow a pen from you. You simply told her they were supplements, and it was the truth. She dropped the subject and never mentioned it again, but you could see worry flash on her face everytime she sees you.

Honestly, you don't think your condition is bad, and your illness isn't too bad. Everyone just exaggerates, and it can be cured easily. Although your diagnosis came so late, you fear it might turn you to ashes before you could fix it.

Rubbing your eyes, your bones are aching and begging you to get some rest. Your body is practically screaming in capital letters, you ignore it as you button up your shirt. You force a smile, wiping the mirror clean of dust as you look over your tired reflection.

"Let's go, again" You give yourself a thumbs up and go on your way to school.

☆☆☆

Saiki did not want to admit it, but he notices how your bruises show up and how tired your eyes look. Your fatigueness may be the most visible problem of yours, but nobody else really notices it.

Except for him of course.

So when you show up to class in an ironed shirt and clean shoes, he feels obligated to ask if you're really okay. He wishes he could read your mind right now but your thoughts are so disarranged he cannot pick them apart individually. Although, he has an easier time reading them when you're worn out. He doesn't like reading your thoughts, he feels as if it is invading your personal space. Maybe you aren't ready to tell people what is happening, and he wants to respect that.

He sighs, knowing his powers are pretty useless as of right now. He senses something truly bad is occurring to you, that's why he tries to create some distance between you two. Saiki does not want to get close to you in case you will not be around for too long.

He has failed, obviously.

He twirls his pen and looks at you resting your head on the desk. His eyes glance down at his notebook, his scribbles about you in vague sentences.

Y/n is sick. illness? bruises, fatigue, weight loss a bit? what illness.

He scratches his head, wracking his brain to come to at least one conclusion. His gaze drops down to your legs, the multiple bandages stuck to your skin only makes him wince.

They're trying so hard to hide it, why?

You snore quietly, making Saiki abandon his thinking. He slightly smiles, his pen scribbling once again on the paper.

They snore. Wish I found it annoying.

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#saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader fanfic #kusuo saiki #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki x reader fanfic #the disastrous life of saiki k.#x reader #x reader fanfiction #happybirthdaysaiki #i will be using capital words for now

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silvertsundere · 2 months

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Silver Talks AniManga (31/03/24)

there's still 3 shows that haven't finished yet and next week the new season is gonna start already at least I will only be watching a fraction of what I was this season so that's gonna give me a lot more time to catch up on some stuff and play some things I've been putting off for a while (hopefully)

blue - finale/completed

Anime

Gushing over Magical Girls Ep13 (Finale)

surprisingly the best looking showed out of the 3 ecchi ones I watched this season, despite being the lewdest by far but anyway it was alright. the only thing I knew about it going in was that it was about magical girls and lewd. turns out it's just the author's thinly veiled fetishes totally out in the open with a thin coat of magical girl on top to have an excuse to do stuff like MOTW there's not much else to say about it really, everything that happens including plot developments are just an excuse for more and lewder scenes. not sure about reading the manga anymore after having watched it but I'll probably watch a s2 if it ever gets one

Mashle S2 Ep12 (Finale)

there's not much to say really. I had hope it'd be better than s1 and while it was due to the source material being better it still wasn't that much. was hoping for a lot more sakuga cause of one of the pvs they showed but there was barely any. even the best fight in the series which I had my hopes up for only had 1 cool moment and the rest was just the usual quality. which mind you, isn't bad at all, but still not as good as it could be. out of all the things that aired this season too I expected this to get another season announced since they can finish adapting the manga with just 2 more cours (3 at most) but they haven't yet. they announced an event in may so if there's a s3 announcement it'll be there but don't hold your breath I guess

tl;dr: everything I said about s1 applies here. you're better off reading the manga instead since the anime doesn't really get the vibes right

Pokemon Horizons Ep45

this episode marked the end of the second arc and the first year of the anime (basically). next episode we start a more scarvi focused art with the main characters going to the school from the game and a ton of npcs showing up or making a return (rika and nemona 🙏)

but anyway this arc was just alright. it was all about searching and getting the six hero pokemon but there were more random eps about other stuff than that. we also have the explorers who are supposed to be the antagonists and they barely showed up despite them revealing the designs for a bunch of them. two of them are gonna be a part of the school art so maybe they'll have a bigger part in the story but I doubt it. they'll prob just be there to give the mcs a hard time and be comedic relief like team rocket.

anyway, considering how it's gone I don't have very high hopes for this next arc BUT I'm stoked to see rika and nemona, they're some of the best things to come out of those games by far

Manga

Ruri Dragon Ch11

today marked the last chap of ruri on WSJ, going forward it'll be on jump+ and run biweekly, tho the next chap will be on the 21st so I guess it's taking a week off. kinda weird to make the transition on an incomplete part like, could've very easily done it on last week's chap it felt like a more natural stopping point, but oh well. obviously tho she's gonna join that committee thing and the other girl that doesn't like her is gonna be a part of it too and they'll make up and become friends too anyway it was nice having ruri back, it's still as good as before it left. it's a shame that it's going biweekly but hey, the author's health is more important

#silver talks animanga

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sissytobitch10seconds · 2 years

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End of My World

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: After almost ending the world/universe three times, Reginald Hargreeves finally inadvertently got what he wanted. Viktor is now terrified of his powers and would quite literally do anything to keep them from coming back. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt (failed), medical trauma, mentions of sibling death, mentions of substance abuse, addiction recovery, and depression Word Count: Ship(s): Viktor Hargreeves & Everyone

Archive link!

TRIGGER WARNING: The following fanfiction graphically depicts the after effects of a failed suicide attempt and goes into detail about the reasoning behind the suicide attempt. If these things could trigger you, please continue with caution.

A/N: I had the idea of Viktor absolutely freaking out if his powers were to return to him after the season finale of season 03, especially if everyone else has settled into their lives and is happy now. There also aren't a lot of Viktor angst fics, so I decided that I was going to add my own. This is kind of based off of my experiences with depression, which is why it might not match up with typical experience depicted in content. There's some good hurt/comfort mixed in here, so I hope it turns out good. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

End of My World

An Umbrella Academy Fanfiction

A Viktor Hargreeves-Centric Fanfiction

By Sissytobitch10seconds

"Am I speaking to Klaus Katz?"

"Yes, who is this?" Klaus asked. He couldn't help the smile that fell over his face at hearing that name. In the new timeline, a lot of them had renamed themselves to escape the 'Hargreeves' branding all over The City where they had appeared. Sloane and Ben had chosen Sparrow, Allison was already Chestnut, and Five had gotten to pick a whole name for himself. Luther and Diego had taken the name of the women that they married. Klaus had chosen his mother's name, Herschsberger, until he got married to Dave, who happened to be transported forward like Raymond had for Allison.

"I'm calling from Benika Memorial Hospital. You were listed as Viktor Skripka's emergency contact. Is that right?" the woman on the other end asked.

He felt his stomach drop out from beneath him. He reached out to the form of his napping husband next to him. His heart was beating up in his throat as he felt a shock of anxiety unlike he had in years. Dave jerked awake and gave him a worried look just as Klaus answered, "Yeah. I didn't know that I was his emergency contact but I am his brother."

"I'm sorry to say this, but there's been an accident. Your brother has been admitted to the hospital," the woman said. Her voice did earnestly sound sorry for him, not that his brain was really registering it. Part of him hated her because she was delivering the news of what could be a tragedy to him. He was grounded by the feeling of Dave's hand clutching his arm in reassurance.

"Wh-what kind of accident?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm afraid that I can't disclose medical details over the phone," she said. "But we need you to come to the hospital anyway, there's certain medical questions we have to ask since at the moment Viktor is incapable of answering them himself."

"Alright, of course. I'll be there right away," Klaus said before the other line went dead as the woman hung up. He glanced over at his husband, feeling tears welling up in his eyes.

Dave sat up, immediately more awake now that he could see how distressed his lover was. "Baby, what's going on? Where are you going?"

Klaus slipped off of the bed and began to dig through the piles of clothes around their room from doing laundry the night before. "I have to go to the hospital, one of my brothers apparently had an accident. And he's either not conscious or not coherent enough to answer questions," he said. He pulled on one of Dave's t-shirts, which hung loosely off his frame in a way that he and his husband would have liked to explore had the situation not been what it was.

"Where do you have to go then?" he slipped off of the bed and began to find some relatively presentable clothes for himself. "If it's far then we're going to have to pack."

The ex-superhero shook his head as he tugged on a pair of pants and began to search for two matching shoes. "We don't have to pack anything. It's at Benika Memorial, in town."

"Isn't your brother married? Why would he put you down as his emergency contact?" Dave asked, brows furrowing together in confusion.

Klaus paused for a moment and let his shoulders sag. He pressed his hands over his face for a moment as he tried to push back all the memories of his siblings being hurt (and Ben dying) out of his mind to explain the situation to his husband. "Diego and Lila got married specifically so that they could have easier hospital and custody access, so they wouldn't be calling me. However, I have another brother in The City that you never met. His name is Viktor."

It took a second but the blond nodded in understanding. "Alright, Benika Memorial here we come."

"Thanks for being willing to come with me," Klaus murmured as he pressed a kiss to his husband's cheek. He hadn't told him everything about his past as he was pretty sure that if he did then they wouldn't have even got past the first real date, let alone a year into marriage. Dave did, however, know the majority of the things that had happened, including the fact that he had basically watched one of his brothers die.

"Of course, my love," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to Klaus' forehead. For a moment it felt like they were back in the first timeline, back in Vietnam when they first fell in love with each other. Of course, Dave didn't remember that time but Klaus still looked back on those memories of their moments as if they were his most treasured possessions.

They finished getting ready before they hurried out of their apartment down to where their car was parked along the street. Klaus was eerily quiet as they merged into traffic and went towards the hospital. Memories of Ben, beaten and bloody and whimpering, kept flashing through his mind despite the fact that it had been almost fifteen years to the dot. The dead-raiser leaned his head against the cool glass of the window to try and sooth the anxiety-induced flush in his face. He could feel his palms sweating and he was shaking just a bit like when he went to rehab and had withdrawals. He shuddered when the huge white walls of the hospital came into view, treasuring the moments that they spent in the parking lot outside while looking for a spot. As they walked towards the general admittance doors, Dave reached over so that he was holding his husband's hand in an attempt to reassure him.

They had to wait while other family members that had arrived before him walked up to the receptionist to ask after their loved ones. Klaus picked at the dog tags that still hung from his neck to try and soothe his nerves. He walked up to the desk once it was finally their turn, giving the kind looking man sitting behind the desk a wary smile. "Hi, I'm the family of Viktor Spripka."

"Right," he nodded as he tapped the name into the database on his computer. "Klaus Katz?"

"That's me," he nodded.

"You need to go up to the surgical floor. It's floor three, and then the receptionist up there can direct you to his doctor," he said, pointing towards the stairs and elevator.

Klaus nodded and then nearly dragged his husband in that direction with his desperation to get to his brother. He was still playing with the dogtags as they rode the elevator up to the surgical floor. The second receptionist sent one of the surgical residents to bring them to Viktor's room. Each step that they took added another weight to his chest. He could hear the ghosts of people that had recently passed away so hadn't yet found their way out and hospital staff that were comfortable there. The ghosts had only started reappearing a few weeks ago, but his powers were steadily returning to him. The buzzing of his power in his ears and the anxiety over his brother's condition were making it really hard to pay attention to where the resident was leading them. She turned and then pressed the door open so that they could both walk in.

He felt his heart skip a beat and his stomach sink down into the bottom of his gut when he saw the figure of his brother. Viktor had always been small, even when they were all little kids, but he looked like a child as he laid in the huge hospital bed. He was hooked up to several monitors and had two IVs, one for fluids and the other for blood. He also had a respirator hooked up to his mouth instead of the standard oxygen. He had bandages wrapped around the majority of his arms and around his neck.

"The doctor should be in to discuss his case with you in a moment," the resident explained softly as she let the door slip shut behind her.

Dave glanced at his husband after making sure that the resident doctor had really gone. He was able to grab a chair and place it underneath Klaus just as he began to collapse. Klaus placed one hand over his mouth for just a moment before he reached out and clasped Viktor's hand in his own. "Oh Viktor. What happened to you?"

They waited in silence, Klaus clutching his brother's hands and glancing between his face and his monitors to make sure that he was alive. Dave hovered behind his husband while trying to figure out what he was supposed to do in this kind of a situation.

The door opened as someone knocked on the frame. They both looked up to see someone wearing dark gray scrubs with a white lab coat. Behind her was a woman that looked oddly familiar, not that Klaus was in the right state of mind to place who she was. "Hi, I'm Dr. Lorem. I'm your brother's surgeon. This is Detective Patch, she's going to have to ask you a couple questions."

"Was Viktor involved in a crime?" Klaus asked, his head snapping up to stare at them both.

"That's what we're trying to figure out. I was called to do a wellness check on your brother earlier today and when I showed up," she paused and winced. "This might be a little hard to hear but I do have to disclose this part of the case so you can give me the answers that I need. I found him with his throat and arms covered in deep lacerations," Patch explained.

Dr. Lorem chimed in then, "Before Office Patch has the chance to ask you anything about the case I do want to explain a bit of his situation to you and hopefully assuage some fears. When he came to us he had lost a lot of blood. The EMTs had tried their best to pack the wounds on his neck and arms but his blood pressure was too weak since his heart had barely anything to pump around his body. He did code while our trauma team worked on getting his wounds to actually stop bleeding, but we were able to get him back with minimal drugs and CPR. The laceration on his neck was deep enough that it injured his airway so we had to intubate him. Hopefully in the next couple of days we can wean him off of it. We did have to do surgery to close a couple of the cuts because they were so deep. If you have questions about that then I can introduce you to our venous and plastic specialists who helped assist me in the surgery. We also had to pump his stomach since his body was having a negative reaction to some of the substances that he ingested, which is one of the questions I needed to ask you about. For now, what you really need to take away from this is that your brother is okay. He's struggling and he's got a long road ahead of him, but he is stable and recovering."

Klaus felt his shoulders sag a little bit when the end of the doctor's speech finally sunk in. "He's okay, he's okay," he murmured as he leaned into the touch of his husband. Dave had begun to rub soothing circles in between his shoulders to try and keep his nerves at bay while they took in the information from the doctor. He then turned his head up towards the ceiling, blinking away his tears before he looked back to the two women. "Alright. You had questions for me and I'm Viktor's emergency contact, so I can answer them," he felt a small swell of pride as he realized that his brother had listed him out of all of their siblings to be his next of kin.

"First things first, with the medical questions," Dr. Lorem said. "Does your brother take any medications, or has he been known to abuse substances in the past?"

The recovering addict had to stop himself from laughing inappropriately at the question. "For the majority of his life he was on anti-anxiety mood suppressants that didn't mix well with other substances so he didn't even take any other types of strong medication until he went off of them two years ago. I think he drinks, but he doesn't do hard drugs."

"Does Viktor have any allergies that you know of?" she asked next after noting it on the electronic chart in her hands.

"No, he lucked out on that one," Klaus forced a small smile.

"Is there anything else that you think we should know when it comes to his medical history? Feel free to give me any information that pops into your mind. I'm trained on how to sort through that kind of thing," she chuckled comfortingly.

Klaus went quiet for a bit as he let the sound of the respirator and the beeping of Viktor's heart monitor soothe the nerves bubbling up in his gut. "Uh, he’s about two years into his transition. I know he takes testosterone shots and he got top surgery a year ago. Other than that I don't know anything else about his medical history," he shrugged. "He never got sick or had any major injuries when we were kids. Oh, wait. About two years ago he, uh, got in a couple of fights we never got checked out for. He might have had some concussions and dislocations."

Dr. Lorem's mouth went small for a moment before she nodded in understanding. "As a doctor I'm going to have to gently reprimand you for not bringing your brother to the doctor when you should have. It never hurts to get checked out when you think something might be wrong."

"Right," he nodded. If they had been able to, he would have dragged all his siblings to the infirmary to get checked out every time they so much as stubbed their toes. After watching Ben die in the Jennifer Incident he had always had the impulse to be overprotective over them, but he had held himself back with the self-control he never extended to his addictions.

"I'll leave Detective Patch to ask her questions now. If you need me, let the nurses know and they'll page me," she gave them a kind smile as she got up and left the room.

Klaus took a couple of deep breaths before he ran a hand through his thick curls. Dave gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, which helped settle his nerves even further. It was like there were only a few things that were grounding him and every time they receded even a little bit the anxiety would spring viciously back to life.

Detective Patch drew up one of the plastic chairs on the other side of the bed from Klaus and Dave. "So one of your brother's students called the station today to ask for a wellness check because he hadn't shown up to a couple of the meetings that he agreed to. When I got there I found him and had to perform what first aid I knew before the EMTs arrived. I did have to force my way in because I wasn't getting a response and his neighbors were also worried. I have two sets of questions I need to ask you, alright?"

"Okay," Klaus nodded weakly. Having to deal with the ghosts was taking a toll on his mental health because he was sleeping less. The anxiety and worry for his brother was only serving to make him more exhausted, but he knew he had to push himself to help Viktor.

"Let me know if at any point you need to stop. I can always come back or you can come to the police station to finish giving us the information we need," Patch said kindly. She then cleared her throat as she started her questioning, "I noticed that you brother is trans. Did he ever talk about having any coworkers or neighbors that might want to hurt him? Someone close enough to him to know where he lives."

"He's never mentioned anything like that. The school he works at is very progressive and if his coworkers don't like his identity they don't really talk about it," Klaus shook his head. Viktor had only mentioned his school in passing and he was always talking about how much he loved his students or being able to pick what he wanted to play. "He doesn't know anyone that intimately in his orchestra. Not enough for them to break into his home and hurt him."

"Okay," Patch nodded. "Now, I hate to bring this up but the wounds that your brother was brought in with were congruent with that of someone that might have tried to take their own life. Has Viktor ever shown any suicidal tendencies or mentioned anything about not wanting to be around anymore?"

He felt his heart sink into his stomach and a shock of panic rush through him. Viktor had been isolated from them his entire life and then again when they arrived in their new timeline and chose to go their separate ways. He had been so wrapped up in getting to Dave again that he hadn't even thought about how his brother must have felt. "I… I don't know. He's never mentioned anything like that to me but it's not completely out of the question for him to… to have tried to… kill himself." It was like the words were being slowly pulled from him with a string, forcing their way out of his throat and past his lips despite his objections.

"Alright. We'll keep looking into his case but unfortunately if he was attacked there's very little that we can do until he wakes up," the detective explained. "Feel free to call the police department and ask for me if you need to, alright?"

"Of course, Detective Patch," Dave answered for his husband. The officer allowed herself out of the room after giving her work number to the aforementioned man. They were once again left alone in the room with Viktor, so Dave gave his husband a few minutes to process everything that had happened. "My love, don't you think that we should contact your other siblings to tell them what happened? Viktor is their brother too."

"Right, right. You're right," Klaus sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face. He grabbed his phone and flicked to the sibling that had been closest to Viktor before the whole debacle with the end of the universe had gone down.

The phone rang three times before Allison answered. "Hey Klaus! What's up?"

He leaned back in his chair, throwing his arm to where Dave was now sitting in another one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. Dave clutched his hand and rubbed his thumb over Klaus' knuckles soothingly, which was the only thing that gave the recovering addict the strength to do this. "I have some news," he sighed.

"News? Are you and Dave finally looking in to having a kid?" she nearly squealed.

In the background he could hear Raymond reading to Claire, who had turned into a fanatic reader after her step-father's entrance into her life. His heart ached like a stone in his chest as he realized that the news might ruin her wonderful day. "No. It's not good news, I'm afraid. Viktor- he's in the hospital."

"I didn't think that he was going to have another surgery. They were too expensive or something," Allison replied, sounding a little bit uninterested.

"No. Allison," Klaus nearly whined. What he wouldn't give for a hit of the morphine Viktor was getting through his IV. "He, um, he almost died. One of his students called a wellness check on him and the officer found him bleeding out on the floor. They don't know much about the case other than that."

"Oh," was the only thing that came from his sister for a good three minutes. "Is he… is he…"

He let his eyes fall closed and ignored the tear that streaked down his cheek because of it. This was going to be the hardest thing he had done since he clutched the body of his dying lover in his hands in the middle of a battlefield. "He's not dead. His surgeon said that he's got a long road ahead of him but he's recovering for now."

"Surgeon?" Allison almost shrieked. The light happy voices in the background died down immediately. "He had to have surgery?"

"It's not like this is his first time going under the knife but apparently he did code when he was in the ER," Klaus began to chew at his nails to try and satisfy the urge to go and numb himself with whatever opioids this hospital had stocked.

He could practically see his sister's eyes widening as he spoke. She took in a sharp breath as she whispered, "Oh my God. Our brother was dead, Klaus."

"Not the first time that's happened," he shuddered as he remembered the blood soaked rug in the White Buffalo Suite and Six's (which is what they had taken to calling the Ben from their original universe) ripped up body. His bones and joints ached as he remembered all of the times that he had died during his training as well.

"Yeah, but we're not supposed to be fighting big scary shit anymore. We're just supposed to be living our lives. Viktor's a teacher for God's sake," Allison scoffed. "He probably has the safest job out of all of us."

Klaus bit the edges of his tongue as he tried to restrain himself. He couldn't keep the words back, finally saying, "He might be a teacher but he's still open about being trans at his school because it helps some of his high school age students."

Allison took in a shaky breath before she asked, "You think that this was a hate crime?"

"I don't know. Listen, I have to call and tell the others. I'll keep you updated on his condition if you want," he offered.

"That would be amazing. I'm going to book a flight out there as soon as I can so that I can help out. Do you think that he'd want to see me in the hospital or should I just… message him?" Klaus could almost see her pausing and her posture becoming awkward as she realized. Viktor and Allison hadn't quite made up since the (almost) end of the universe, even if they were back on speaking terms like they had been before his book in their original timeline.

The recovering addict took a moment to think. Dave's hand moved to take his own, grounding him again so that his thoughts were able to clear. "I think that he's going to need all of the support that he can get," he cleared his throat to stop himself from blurting out the other possibility that had caused Viktor's ailment.

"Okay. Keep me updated, please. I want to know everything, even the bad stuff," Allison said, her voice tight with worry.

"I will," he promised. He took a moment when the line went dead before he looked for the next sibling on his list. He wasn't looking forward to this phone call, not that he was looking forward to any of them.

"Diego speaking," the voice on the other end said immediately after the second ring on the phone.

Klaus winced as he could hear Chrysanthemum, Diego's eighteen-month-old, babbling close to the phone. He knew that the little girl most likely wouldn't be able to tell what they were talking about but she would recognize his voice and Viktor's name. "Hey Dee."

"Klaus, what's up?" his brother asked.

"Well, I have some pretty serious news," he glanced back towards the vitals of his injured brother to reassure himself that he wouldn't have to be delivering even worse news.

The other man went quiet for a moment. "You didn't relapse, did you?"

Klaus let out a little scoffing laugh. What he would give to be calling to have to admit that, however shameful it would be, instead of what he was actually calling to say. "No, but I have been thinking about it," Dave gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Viktor is in the hospital."

Just as he suspected, the name got a squeal from the little girl. "V! Uncle V!" Her words had gotten a lot clearer in the short amount of time that Klaus had been away from her. Despite himself, he felt a small smile tug itself across his face as he heard the adorable lisp.

"Mija, I need you to go find Mama," Diego said almost immediately. Klaus could hear some shuffling from the other end of the call as Diego passed his daughter off to her mother despite her protests about wanting to be held and be close to her uncles, even if it was through a call. As soon as she was away from the line, he asked, "What do you mean in the hospital?"

He rubbed his brow as he explained basically the same information he had given Allison. "But there's already a detective on the case."

"Shit, I think it was Eudora that got sent on that wellness check," Diego swore when he finally pieced the puzzle Klaus had given him together. The recovering addict felt his eyes widen as he realized that he had been speaking to his savior from another timeline, and that she was alive in this one. He had also forgotten that Diego also worked as an officer, though he was a beat cop right now, in the same precinct that would have been in charge of Viktor's neighborhood. "Don't worry. As much as I want to go and check it out for myself I won't. But I am going to ask if she has any details about Viktor's case when I go into work tomorrow. Is he awake?"

"No. I think he's sedated. They had to intubate him because he had a cut on his throat that hurt his airway or something," Klaus leaned his head so that it was resting on Dave's shoulder. The comfort he got from being in this close proximity to his husband was mixed with the reassurance of seeing his brother's chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Okay. Let me know when a good time to come and visit is. I'm going to tell Lila and figure out how to explain this to Chrys," Diego sighed.

"See you, Dee. I'll keep you updated," Klaus said just as his brother hung up. He took a moment to relax and not have to explain this to anyone else as he messaged Ben. The aforementioned Sparrow loathed talking on the phone and still acted aloof enough that he wasn't sure he should expend what little energy he had left on calling him to explain the situation. He was still their sibling and still deserved to know, however. After a moment of breathing, with Dave pressing kisses to his temple and the top of his head, he dialed Luther's number and then pressed the phone to his ear.

"Sparrow residence, this is Sloane speaking," the chipper voice of his sister-in-law cut through the ringing of the phone when the two lines connected.

He felt some of the tension in his shoulders drain away when he heard Sloane. While he hadn't spent a ton of time with her since they had all settled down in The City, he enjoyed talking with her more than he did his own adoptive sister. She was much kinder and even when she was upset, she always expressed her feelings by stating them out loud instead of having huge blow up fights like Allison did. She was much easier to talk to, probably the easiest person to talk to out of all of their siblings. "Hey Sloane. Is Luther there? I have some family news."

"We were actually in the middle of baking something for a work potluck. I can put you on speaker?" she offered.

"Yeah, that would probably work best," he sighed. He was going to have to tell Sloane as well, as she had gotten pretty close with Viktor as well. She was working in the same elementary school that Viktor worked at bi-weekly. She gave him the cue once she turned the speaker on and then set the phone down between herself and her husband. Klaus took a deep breath as he got ready to explain everything for the fourth time. "Alright. This might be hard to hear, but Viktor is in the hospital."

"Hospital? What happened?" Luther asked immediately.

"He had an accident. His wrists and throat were cut up pretty bad, he coded in the ER and then had to have surgery. He's sleeping right now," Klaus explained.

There was the sound of something dropping on the other end as Luther, predictably, froze while trying to process the information. "Oh my God. Is he going to be okay?" Sloane asked. He knew that she was going to be able to comfort his brother and help him deal with it all.

"The doctor said that he has a long road of recovery ahead but that he should be okay," Klaus nodded despite the fact that they couldn't see him. "I'll keep you guys updated. You're welcome to come and visit if you want, but it's pretty boring. And shocking. He's hooked up to a lot of shit."

"We'll be there to visit as soon as we can. It's going to take us a while to process all of this," Sloane replied. "Thank you for telling us Klaus. Be sure to let us know if anything happens."

He let out a small sigh when the call came to a close. "I will," he murmured as he hung up. The last person that he had to call was the person that he had been putting off since he had started informing the whole family. He rubbed his forehead with one hand after dropping Dave's while he searched for the last number. He dialed it and then pressed it to his ear as he let it ring.

"What do you want?" Five snapped when the call finally connected.

"Aww, is that any way to talk to your favorite brother?" Klaus cooed. It felt natural to slip into this kind of easy sniping back and forth despite the serious situation that they were in.

"You know very well that you are not my favorite brother," Five replied dryly.

"Mm, yes, we both know that's Luther," he clicked his tongue. "But I didn't call you to talk about family matters in that sense, dear brother of mine. I have news about Viktor."

"What about him?" came Five's immediate response. The poor man was constantly paranoid about another apocalypse or one of his siblings being hunted and killed by the Commission.

Klaus winced as he realized that he was delivering precisely the type of information that Five didn't want to ever have to deal with again. He leaned forward in his chair so that he was holding Viktor's hand while he spoke. "There was an accident and now Viktor is in the hospital."

"Which hospital?"

"Five, he's sedated right now. He had to have surgery and lost a lot of blood but he's stable. You don't have to come to the hospital and watch over him while he sleeps," he tried to joke like he had been before, but just couldn't bring himself to force the lightheartedness into his words.

"Which hospital, you asshat?" Five demanded.

He let out a small sigh of reluctance before he answered, "Benika Memorial." The words had barely left his mouth before there was a flash of blue light and Five was standing in the hospital room on the other side of the bed than them. Klaus brought the phone down to his lap and hung up the call. Next to him, Dave jumped and placed a hand over his heart to try and sooth his own panicking nerves.

Five stared down at their brother's tiny form, hooked up to dozens of tubes and other hospital equipment. When he turned his head up so that he was looking back towards his family, his eyes were wide and nearly feral. "What the Hell happened?"

Dave answered for Klaus because his poor husband had been repeating the information over and over again that day. "We don't know. Apparently one of his students called a wellness check on him since he hadn't shown up to his classes or tutoring sessions. The officer found him bleeding out on his floor."

The oldest of the Hargreeves siblings simply hummed while he moved to sit down on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. His face was tight and pulled in like he was thinking, but Klaus couldn't figure out what. Even before he had spent forty-odd years in the apocalypse he had been hard to read and understand, so it was basically impossible to do now. The siblings lapsed into silence as they waited near their brother's bedside.

---

The next several weeks were difficult for all of them. They came in rotations, visiting their brother every single time they had the opportunity to. Sloane had work all day but always did her grading beside Viktor's bedside as a favor to Luther who had to work for a lot longer. Diego came and visited every so often in between bothering Eudora and the other officers on his case to do more work. Allison had stayed with Klaus and Dave for the time that she was able to, but she had to fly back to LA after the first week. She sent flowers to Viktor's hospital room every couple of days in the hopes that it would reassure him that she did care once he finally woke up. Luther was in and out of the hospital room whenever he could be. Lila had only come by to visit once, but the sight of her uncle wrapped up in so many bandages with so many tubes had been too much for Chrysanthemum. Ben had traveled back from where he had been visiting art exhibits across the world to visit Viktor but hadn't stayed for longer than a couple of days. They all knew that as soon as Viktor woke up he would make a trip back to them. Klaus and Five were sitting vigil more than any of the others were as they were the closest to Viktor and had the most ability to do so. Five had taken time off from his college classes so that he could be there the moment his brother woke up.

It happened exactly twenty two days after he had been admitted to the hospital. Klaus and Sloane had just finished dragging Five away from Viktor's hospital room so that he could change his clothes and have a shower. Sloane forced one of the muffins she had stress baked into his hand along with the coffee that Klaus had gotten him from the cafe across the street. They settled into the uncomfortable hospital chairs as they watched over their family member.

According to the doctor, Viktor was doing much better. He had lost a couple of the tubes hooked up to him as he no longer needed quite as many vitamins since he was able to stomach the feeding tube. They also came to check on him less as he no longer needed quite as much attention. He was still intubated but apparently they were weaning him off of the sedation to see if he would wake up and be able to breathe on his own.

"Ben said that he picked something up for Viktor from his latest showing. He doesn't want everyone else to know but he is thinking about us," Sloane said after a moment of silence.

"Aww, how sweet of him," Klaus cooed.

Their oldest brother, who had basically been comatose for the entire time that he had been sitting in the chair, straightened up as all his muscles went rigid. He placed his coffee next to the muffin wrapper down on the table next to Viktor's hospital bed so that he could grab his aforementioned brother's hand. "Shut up, both of you," Five waved at them with his spare hand.

"What is it?" Sloane asked worriedly as she shifted in her chair as well.

"I thought that I heard a difference in his breathing," he murmured. They all went quiet, watching closely for any kind of difference in their loved one.

Viktor surged up on the bed, his eyes fluttering as he began to fight the intubation tube down his throat. His hand tightened almost painfully around Five's while the panic rushed through his system. He didn't know where he was, which was a huge trigger for him after he had been drugged by the government back in their second timeline. Sloane and Klaus both let out a panicked shriek when the noises in the room suddenly increased. Viktor's heart rate had also jumped substantially so it was closer to the hundreds instead of hovering around seventy beats per minute. Five stood up so that he was hovering over his brother while brushing his free hand across Viktor's face. "Hey, hey, you're in the hospital but we're all here. You're going to be okay. You have to breathe and calm down. The doctors had to intubate you, that's what's in your throat, okay? Just relax."

Sloane had rushed out into the hallway and got the attention of one of the nurses that was already heading towards their room to figure out what was going on. He hurried into the room and then carefully began to remove the intubation tube from Viktor's mouth and throat. Klaus had to physically pull Five away from their brother while the nurse worked on getting him to sit upright instead of just being leaned upwards. The medical professional then ran a quick test on some of Viktor's skills to test his motor functions. The doctor, who had been paged as soon as they realized that Viktor was actually awake, came in and asked him what felt like a million questions and ran a lot of the same tests to make sure everything was functioning perfectly.

The family was standing, bunched up against the wall as they watched over their loved one like he would disappear. As soon as the doctors and nurses had left, they swarmed him. Five was the quietest out of all of them, falling back down into his chair like the three weeks of poorly sleeping had finally hit him all at once.

Sloane moved so that she was sitting on the end of Viktor's hospital bed with one hand on his calf. She couldn't stop the bright smile that fell over her face. "I'm so glad that you're okay. You had us worried there for a bit."

"Little brother!" Klaus crowed as he wrapped his brother up in a hug. "Man, I thought that you were going to pull a me and have to go talk to the chick with the bicycle. Glad that I don't have to deal with your ghost."

Viktor blinked as he slowly reached his arms up and hugged Klaus. "I-I-I don't understand, what happened?"

"You almost died," Klaus supplied. "Well, you kind of did die. According to that nice doctor that was in here a second ago you died when you got to the ER and they had to revive you."

A lot seemed to be happening in the mind of their brother. He blinked at the three siblings as he slowly lowered himself back down onto his bed so his head was against the many pillows behind him. His face flashed with realization before, for the briefest of seconds, guilt covered his features. "How long have I been out?" he asked as he rubbed a hand over the side of his face.

"About three weeks. Your students brought some things for you," Sloane said, motioning to the posters from each of the schools that he taught at.

There was a highly colorful, glitter covered one from the elementary school that he taught at in the mornings every Tuesday and Thursday for the kids interested in early orchestra. Next to it was a smaller one that had quite a few personal get-well messages from the middle school kids he helped tutor every other Monday after school. There was another huge one that was from all of the orchestra students he taught at his high school. The last one was covered in little rainbow flags and 'get well soon' messages from the LGBT club he oversaw. "Love those kids," he said softly as a smile fell across his face. He cleared his throat, rubbing over the bandages that were still there. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Oh, yes, of course," she nodded. She handed him the glass that had been poured for him by the nurse that came to extubate him. "I'm going to go call everyone and tell them that you're awake, okay?"

Before Viktor had the chance to object about not wanting to bother anyone, Five sprang up out of his chair. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Klaus, why don't you go with her so that she doesn't have to talk to our siblings alone?"

Klaus' brows furrowed together in confusion as he tried to figure out what his brother was trying to get out but chose not to. The last month had been so stressful that they were all acting a little bit weird. "Alright, schwester, let's get a move on," he linked their arms together and walked them out of the hospital room.

Viktor let his head hang back against the pillows and his eyes slip shut in exhaustion. Despite the fact that he had basically been sleeping for the better part of a month, he was still somehow so tired he barely had any energy. He jerked back upright when he felt Five moving closer to his bed next to him. "Viktor."

"Five," he replied, his voice deep and crackling like when he had first started taking his shots.

"Tell me what happened," he replied, raising a brow at his brother.

The smallest of the siblings felt panic begin to rise up to the surface. His face was pointed down towards his bandaged arms while the blood rushed to his cheeks. He didn't feel like he could breath and anxiety was clutching around his abdomen. "I…"

"Viktor," his voice was intense and serious. "You have to tell me."

"I don't have to tell you anything, Five," Viktor snapped. His anxiety was causing him to be aggressive despite knowing in the back of his mind that Five only had his best interests at heart.

"You really want to go there with me?" he growled. "You could tell me or you could tell the entire family when they show up to interrogate you. You know that they will. And, Viktor, if I find out that you've been doing some weird vigilante shit then I'm going to be your end."

He brought his hands up to his face so that his features were hidden away. "Maybe you should just end me," speaking so quietly that he wasn't sure his brother could even hear him talking let alone what the words were.

"Excuse me?" Five asked, going even more rigid than he had been before. He nearly sprang off the bed as he assumed a defensive pose, like Viktor was in any kind of shape to have a fight. "Would you care to repeat that for me?"

"I tried to kill myself, okay, Five?" he nearly shouted as he pulled his hands away from his face and looked to his brother. "I'm not running around like Diego did when he was being a cheap Batman knockoff. I'm a teacher at three different schools and I help the queer kids in my highschool. I have an orchestra that I play in too, so I don't even have time to run after criminals even if I wanted to. I just- I just tried to kill myself. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

With each word that the smaller man spoke, Five's eyes widened with shock. He sunk back down into his chair, clutching his hands in front of him. "What?" he asked after a moment of tense silence.

Viktor pursed his lips and looked away from his brother. "I tried to kill myself," he repeated.

"Why?"

Both of the brothers were left staring at each other for a couple minutes. His heartbeat was still ringing through the room and they could hear murmuring words from the hospital staff and their siblings outside. Viktor blinked a few times as he tried to process that question. To him it was so obvious, he had no idea how the smartest sibling in their family couldn't see it. "M-my powers are coming back," he answered with a small shrug.

Five covered the bottom half of his face with one hand as he waited for his brother to continue. The aforementioned man let his shoulders fall towards each other defensively while he tried to find the words. It was like his mouth was full of sand and cotton every time he tried to force the words past his teeth. "Every time I've had powers in the past I've killed people. When I was a kid dad had to drug me because I kept killing our nannies. And then when I went off my meds I literally ended the world three times. I thought that I finally had a chance to be a part of the family because none of us had powers and even when all of yours started coming back I didn't think that anything would change because we're all pretty close and well bonded now. Even though I still have to be the one to reach out first most of the time. I don’t care because we’re acting like a family and it’s so wonderful. But it's not like I had felt anything yet, either, so nothing bad could happen. But then I was teaching one of my classes and I could feel it, the humming in the background from both the instruments and the kids. Like what Harlan taught me to feel when I took his power back from him. I couldn't…" he stopped as he realized that tears were streaming down his face.

Uncharacteristically, Five lurched from his chair and wrapped his arms around his brother. "Don't- don't you fucking," he took in a sharp breath and stopped talking for a second. Viktor let his arms hesitantly reach up until he was hugging him back with a huge release of emotion. They were both crying as the older of the two continued, "I cannot lose you again, Viktor. I can't."

"But if I stick around I could take away Allison's happiness again. I could ruin everything. Lila and Diego have a kid, Klaus finally has Dave back, Sloane and Luther are so happy, and you're finally retired. I can't be responsible for ruining the lives of the people that I love most or killing anyone else," he shook his head. "Everything would be so much better if I just wasn't here anymore."

"Stop! You can't say that," Five pulled back so that Viktor could see how intense his deep brown eyes were. His lips were pursed and he was using one hand to wipe at the tears still spilling over his lashes and rushing down his cheeks. "The world would not be a better place without you in it. The only reason that you killed people before was because you weren't able to control it. We never actually gave you the training that you needed. Dad turned you into a bomb and then we never managed to disarm. The whole point of taking you back to the past was to teach you how to deal with your powers and then we never did that. The ends of the world weren't your fault, Viktor. We should share the blame too. Please… please don't ever try to do this again."

"Okay," he nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry for making you feel like this was the only option that you had," Five shook his head. "This was partially because I threatened you, right? Fuck, how could I have been so stupid! Of course your powers would come back like the rest of ours did and of course you would be afraid of them after never having any other memories other than the end of the world."

"Five," Viktor called out. He was still so exhausted and it was made even worse by the fact that he had spent the better part of the last five minutes crying.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I think this is something that my therapist needs to handle." Five moved over to his seat again. He held his brother's hand as if to make sure that he was really there and awake. They went quiet until Sloane and Klaus came back in.

Soon the other siblings that were living in the city had arrived and piled into his hospital room as well. "Glad to see that you're okay. You're the most tolerable out of the boys," Lila informed him. She was shifting her daughter, who was napping cutely against her shoulder, as she took the seat Sloane had been in moments before.

"Thanks, mi corozone," Diego rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Good to see you awake," he directed towards his brother as he filed in to stand behind Lila.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again," Luther murmured as he wrapped his brother up in a crushing hug. For a moment, Viktor felt panic shoot through him as the memories of the choking hug Luther had given him back in their original timeline forced their way into his mind. He relaxed when the normal, yet still muscular, frame of his brother reminded Viktor that a lot had changed since that fateful day.

"Don't worry, Five has already threatened me about scaring you guys," he chuckled.

The sound of his voice roused the sleeping toddler. She turned her head and then lout an excited squeal. "Uncle V!" she babbled as she tried to lurch from her mother's grip.

"You good to hold her?" Diego asked, taking his daughter from his wife and moving over to his brother.

"I always want to hold my adorable niece," he chuckled, reaching his bandaged arms to take the toddler. Instead of handing her over, Diego sat Chrysanthemum down on his lap.

"Uncle V," she giggled as she placed her hands on his cheek. "What?" she asked as she tugged on the IV on his arm, immediately getting distracted from her original goal.

He glanced over to Lila, who was looking at something on her phone and not paying attention. Out of the whole family, Viktor was the second most trusted with kids (Allison was first since she had raised her own daughter and Sloane was third). "Well, this is something that the doctors had to give me so that I could have vitamins to make me healthy," he explained. "I just needed a little help getting big and strong like you, flower."

The family settled down in the hospital room, much the chagrin of the hospital staff. It had been a long time since they had all been back together like this, despite them all living in the same place. Viktor, Five, and Sloane were normally overwhelmed with school (though Five for a different reason), and Diego and Luther worked odd hours. It was nice to be surrounded by family, even if they were missing two members and it was under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Ben had just arrived back in the city when he got the message that Viktor had woken up, so went immediately to the hospital instead of his apartment. He left his bag just outside the door so that none of his siblings would be able to tell what he had done as he stuck his head in. "Looks like you're stuck with us then," he smirked as he walked over. Viktor had been trying to nap while his siblings argued with each other over a game of War. Chrysanthemum had already tired herself out and was sleeping with her thumb in her mouth, despite having her pacifier attached to her shirt, and cuddled up next to his uncle.

"More like you're stuck with me," he tried to joke, but the startled look he got from Klaus and Five made him clear his throat and sit up a bit more. "I thought you were in Europe."

"I got back recently. Heard you were awake so I thought I'd stop by to see if I need to kick any of these guys out," Ben informed the other man. After he had gone to a lot of therapy and worked through some of his issues, he had become pretty close with a couple of the others. He and Sloane were still the closest since they had grown up together, but he and Viktor bonded over art even if they were into different types.

"Nah, they're behaving themselves pretty well. It's also nice to have them all in one place so I can make sure they're not getting themselves into trouble," he smiled at the other man.

Ben walked over and ruffled the other man's hair. "Without us they'd be completely lost."

Viktor stifled a yawn as he turned his head to the side so that he could try and continue their conversation. The taller man shook his head, "Sleep, man. You've been through a lot. I'm not going anywhere for a while anyway."

The exhausted violinist nodded before he let his eyes flutter shut again and he fell asleep. With Ben there the rest of their family was kept quiet so that he could actually get some rest. Eventually they all had to leave so that they could go back to their jobs or get some rest for the next day.

---

Allison was the last of his siblings to arrive. She had caught a plane as soon as she heard that he was awake, which meant that she arrived late that night. As soon as she saw him sitting up in his hospital bed while trying to doze off his medication she rushed over to him. She wrapped her arms tightly around him as if to reassure herself that he was really there as their other siblings had. When she pulled back she gave him one of her dazzling smiles, like how she looked at her daughter and husband. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that they've given me my nighttime pain meds," he chuckled. He let the smile slip off of his face as guilt swarmed through him. He scowled slightly and said, "My powers are back, Allison."

"So? All of our powers are back," she whispered.

"I don't want to take away your happiness like I did before," he whispered. "I-I tried to… I tried to stop myself but I'm scared that it's going to happen anyway. You were right, you should have left me in the basement."

"No, no, no, no, no, no," she immediately shook her head. She grasped his hands in her own and forced him to look up at her. "I said that because I was hurting so badly inside. At the time it felt like it was true but now that I have Ray and Claire back I can see that it was wrong. It would completely break me if I lost you. Especially after everything that we've been through. Please never try to kill yourself again, okay? I knew that Hargreeves was going to kill someone and it still hurt so bad to lose a sibling, especially after Five disappeared when we were kids and Six died… I just, I can't keep losing people, and you're people."

"Even if my powers go out of control again?" he asked, his eyes flickering to meet hers.

"We're not going to let that happen. And if it does, we'll just fix it again. There are more solutions to problems that haven't happened yet," she chuckled. "And none of those solutions involve you killing yourself, got it?"

Viktor smiled slightly, a true smile. His stomach was still swirling with guilt and worry but he felt decently lighter than he had before. While he hadn't admitted to anyone other than Five, Detective Path, and Allison what had truly happened to him, he knew that they loved him. Based on the way that they all raced to see him while in the hospital he knew that it was true. They were his family and they wanted him to be around, even if he was the bomb that ended the world three times over.

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naveries · 1 year

Text

bandmates!

au. predebut band beomgyu + young performer y/n

!summary. y/n dreamt of it daily, the vision she held close to her heart. an endless ocean of crowd, singing notes only the heavens have ever heard as she strut down the stage. for it to all become her reality. a performer. she was determined desperate. she hoped to have it all under control. but then who, what was that plagued her mind, this feeling.

!includes. fluff, angst? /high school band au /mentions of physical abuse

03. slap my wrist

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choibeomgyu: Are you all downstairs? choiyeoljin: Yeah but dont worry, we ran into a few of jiu's friend's and decided to help. choiyeoljin: Were on our way up! choibeomgyu: Oh okay, make sure you have the gummies! choiyeoljin: And no thank you? I'll eat them all myself choibeomgyu: NOOOOO WAIT PLEASE I'M SORRY! choibeomgyu: THANK YOU YEOL JIN YOU'RE THE BEST EVEN IF YOUR VOICE ISN'T AS GOOD AS MINE! choiyeoljin: IS THAT SUPPOSE TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER? choibeomgyu: Yes indeed, it was. choiyeoljin: Anyways, head to the classroom where the other band practices. choiyeoljin: You know, the one with the girl you like to stalk. choibeomgyu: I WASN'T STALKING HER!?

he exhales heavily.

a second later he hears yeoljin and the band making their way up the stairs.

deciding to meet them halfway, he jogs down.

"oh hey, there you are" jiu says as they find beomgyu making his way towards them.

"here let me carry those" as he grabs the bag from jiu's hand.

"oh thanks. by the way, this is souha and aeri"

they all exchange greetings, resuming their journey up the stairs

"so why the sudden change in location?" beomgyu turns his head

"well these two were kind enough to help us and their room was already set up, they suggested if it was alright to move venues!" yeoljin exclaimed excitedly to have more company

"the more the merrier!" aeri shouted as she lifted the drinks she was holding in the air and everyone laughs as they all have arrived.

you three were shocked to find more than one band members following behind souha and aeri.

"what's going on? what's the occasion?" you ask puzzled. minji interrupts you asking

"and who are THOSE for?" sharp tone and straight to the point

"for ME?" she reaches for one of the drinks in souhas' hand, only for her to lift it up out of reach.

"yep! and it was all my idea"

yeol jin barges in the middle with his hands on his hips.

"oh was it?"

jiu inquires ramming a bottle of coke into yeoljin's stomach.

"AISH! WHAT IS WITH YOU ALL AND BEING VIOLENT"

he yelps in pain gripping the bottle of coke to his stomach with his back arched.

beomgyu sneaks up behind yeoljin with two drinks, handing one to souha.

“well let’s start eating before the drinks become warm” he says holding up a bottle of sprite.

“cheers!”

you were glad to see everyone was getting along swiftly, you were beginning to think of the excitement of a rival band, you were lost in your head sitting by aeri.

naturally, after some time you grew a bit thirsty from the snacks

"do we have enough drinks?" you asked

"well hana and i are okay with sharing this cola and kyor is drinking from her water bottle" jiu says sitting between kyor and hana.

we overestimated the amount of drinks beomgyu and his friends had bought, so he had to end up sharing.

“well everyone was suppose to drink 1, and i left one in the bag for y/n to get” yeol jin adds on.

you were confused, “but there wasn’t any drinks left when you told me to check” tilting your head. he could’ve sworn he left one in there.

“oh was that for y/n? i thought no one was drinking that one” beomgyu jumps in, a few heads turning to him.

munbin snickers hiding his head behind jaeyun’s

“shoot, y/n you can still take it if you want, i only drank once” beomgyu gestures his drink towards you. your eyes gleam in worried shock.

HIS DRINK? you inwardly scream hiding more of the shock behind your pretty exterior

“i-“ before you were be able to say anything aeri buds in suggesting, "then it’s settled? beomgyu can just share drinks with y/n" placing a hand on beomgyu’s shoulder.

minji chokes on her drink

“HELLO? I’M DRINKING THAT TOO?!” souha yells taking the drink away from minji.

“HOW CAN YOU NOT EXPECT ME TO REACT THAT WAY? THAT PRETTY BOY SHARING WITH OUR BABY? NO WAY, NOT HAPPENING” minji says placing her hands on her hips glaring at beomgyu.

“WAIT Y/N YOU CAN TAKE IT! I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO GO IN A BIT! BUT YOU DONT HAVE TO IF YOU DONT WANT TO!” he turns towards you, raising his hands in defense.

“Y/N YOU ARE NOT DRINKING FROM HIS MOUTH!”

“W-WHAT?”

beomgyu flinches, his face is beet red.

“SHE CAN DRINK FROM THE BOTTLE, WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT FROM MY MOUTH-“

“THAT’S THE SAME THING!!!”

“JEEZ I’M FINE WITHOUT DRINKING, BOTH OF YOU QUIT FIGHTING! I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE LATER ANYWAY” you scolded them for being so disruptive and LOUD.

minji hums in frustration crossing her arms. beomgyu on the other hand brings his legs to his chest, back aligning the wall. burying his face in his palms.

jiu brings a palm to her forehead sighing heavily while souha just laughs. rubbing - now both - minji and jiu’s shoulders

“man, i have feeling we should all hang out more” yeol jin chuckles

an hour or so after some board games, a tense piano contest between your two bands' respective pianist, and yeoljin telling stories about himself while a few of the girls dozed off on your shoulder.

your mom rings your phone saying she’ll be there in 5 minutes to pick you up. surprised since she rarely ever picks you up or drops off, of course you say you’ll be ready soon since she doesn’t wanna waste time. excusing yourself grabbing your bag from behind the speaks and your guitar. bidding everyone goodbye hoping to do something similar again since everyone seemed to have fun.

later in the car an old song that your mom has played way too many times for you to hate is playing and your jamming along to the radio. she turns down the volume a bit to rile backyour attention.

“so y/n?”

“yes mom?”

“i’m having a small get together with a few friends from my old neighborhood. later” she says glancing over to you

“the one you were talking about on the phone this morning?” you asked looking out the window

“oh so you heard?"

“well your laugh is hard to ignore, and you were using your phone voice”

“hush you” she says in a irritated tone

you giggle “so? what about it?”

“they want to meet the girl who looks like a boy in my facebook photos” she grins excitedly

you roll your eyes “uh, do i have choice?” you raise an eyebrow

“well no, since their shop is right over there” she states pointing with her index finger to the small corner shops, and what seems to be a music shop, ahead with a park and playground by it.

as she parked the car, you look down to unbuckle your seatbelt, leavcng you to notive that you're still dressed in your school uniform

“um, i’m still in my uniform, did you bring extra clothes?" you panic

“that’s fine, i heard her son also goes to your school. so it’ll be easier for him to recognize you” she says unbuckling her seat belt

“and i hear that hes very handsome y/n” she teases with a tone, poking your cheek

“yeah, yeah” you swat her finger away

stepping out of the car. you follow your mom to the picnic area. several heads turning your direction as you make your way down to the picnic tents

“YEONG! IS THAT YOU AND Y/N I SEE?!” a woman about the same age as your mom excitedly makes her way down to the both of you open arms.

“AHHH IT’S BEEN SO LONG, HOW’VE YOU’VE BEEN?” your mom runs ahead to her into a tight hug.

“GOOD! AND THAT MUST BE PRETTY Y/N” the lady lets go of your mom and runs up to you for a hug, almost suffocating you in the process. but you politely rub her back.

“the one and only!” your mom laughs as she watches the lady engulf you in a close hug

“i should hope so, im her only daughter” you tease smiling at your mom’s friend

“im assuming your both hungry? especially you y/n, you just came from school! come, come” she says pulling you and your mom along back to the picnic area where you see most people sitting in foldable chairs or the picnic table chatting about.

as your mom’s friend led you along the way to the food and drinks area, a couple of screams come running forward as your mom and other ladies run into a group hug jumping around in none sensical chatter.

your mom’s friend points in the direction of the food lined up on the table, guiding you along to grab some for yourself

“don’t mind them, they haven’t seen each other since your mom left for japan a years ago. but it’s so good to see you y/nie. you’re as pretty as you are in photographs!” thanking her, you watch her as she grabs a can of sprite and plate + utensils.

“just call me auntie min” you nod while she smiles from the back of the tables.

“my sons are sick of me telling them all about you two you know! you look exactly like your mom!” she says

“i hear they’re both as good looking as their mom!” your mom says making her way down to the both of you.

“pssh- well of course!” she rolls her eyes handing you and your mom a plate and drinks “hes very sweet and handsome my youngest! he goes to the same high school as you y/n” she says wrapping an arm around your mom

“come over to our home whenever yo'd like! ill make sure when he gets here, he’ll introduce himself”

“oh okay, sure” you nod shyly

a bit later after a few snacks and drinks, you excuse yourself as you were curious to see what that music shop had. auntie sue mentioned it was her music shop and gave you permission to grab one anything you’d like as a gift.

the moment you stepped in, you were awestruck by just how much instruments and dvds were lined up on the walls. the posters of the beatles to acdc or the smell of new equipment. your eyes landed on a very pretty guitar strap with red bow in the middle. very on brand of you if you ask any of the girls. every time you turned your eyes you found something even more incredible than the last.

“lee y/n..? is that you?”

wait is that-

you quickly turn to find the familiar voice, there to find a surprised beomgyu stopped at the door.

“…hey” you said. head turned towards him wide eyed, still have yet to face him.

“what are you doing here?” he said approaching you.

“my mom is reuniting with a high school friend, she asked me to tag along with her because she wanted to introduce me to her” you said watching him as he made his way next to you.

you both looked at each other for a second before you turn to face the instruments.

he fidgets a bit still processing you’re there

“so uhm… did you meet your mom’s friend?” he asked not knowing what to say

“i did, she was very nice. she also wanted me to meet her sweet and handsome son who goes apparently to the same high school as me” you said in a mocking tone.

he swayed on his heel to face you.

“oh? and how is he? handsome enough? sweet as they say? charming as ever?” he exclaimed as he brushed his hair back dramatically.

you bit back a smile “well i haven’t met anyone even close to that description, i’ll let you know if i do” you spin on your heel, back facing him”

“yeah yeah” he deadpanned as he sneaks up behind you tickling the sides of your waist, causing you to shift uncomfortably to the side.

“HEY NO STOP, GO AWAY. IM TICKLISH”

you hasten towards a pile of stacked, yet to be organized, albums escaping him.

“you willingly tell me this information, and now you’re expecting me to not do anything about it?” a playful grin growing on his face as he started inching towards you.

“hey! i thought you said you were sweet or somethi-“

you were saying until you unsuspectingly trip on a guitar, falling onto a pile of music books. the side of your wrist hits the guitar’s spine.

“Y/N!” he shouted out to you as he wasn’t able to reach out in time.

you tried to shift out the uncomfortable position not realizing there were other things your foot would hit. that was the case anyway, until another large pile of books landed on your shin.

“oh no the guitar!”— you hissed in pain, shifting as you felt the sharp tension run across your wrist “h-how is it?” worried as you tried to sit up, but failed stumbling back onto the pile of books after putting a bit of pressure on your wrist.

“the guitar is what you’re worried about right now?, not your nasty fall?” “shouldn’t i?!, it’s being sold!” you yelled, concern showering your facial features

“all i’m worried about is you” he said as tried to help but you flinch back.

“oh shoot, sorry” he apologized.

“can i have your permission y/n? i just want to help you up”

you look up to him, you knew you couldn’t have predicted what he was gonna do that. you still felt bad though.

“yeah, go ahead” he smiles softly as he pulls you up by your waist helping you sit. holding your wrist avoiding anymore pressure from being applied.

“thanks” as you look down not used to being touched.

“no problem, but you should really get some ice for that” he says as he gets up about to grab a first aid kit.

“beomgyu wait!” you look up to him, grabbing by his wrist to prevent him fron leaving. only for you to retrieve it as the sharp pain came back.

he goes back to you surprised “shoot, y/n! sorry sorry! i didn’t know. i’m sorry, what is it?” he asked kneeling down beside you.

“i’m fine beomgyu, really” as you look down to your wrist to find a red bruise on it.

your expression changed to a weary one as your eyes widen only realizing now how bad it looks. you panic

“oh nononono”

you quickly look up to face beomgyu with determined eyes and a serious expression.

“slap my wrist”

you say intently, catching him by surprise.

“what?! no! are you crazy?” taken aback as he did not expect that from you.

“come on please! maybe you can like knock it back to normal so i can play for the competition!”

you sigh out desperately, eyes wandering everywhere on the ground.

“this can’t be happening, everyone has been working and thinking about this for the past few weeks. i can’t ruin that for them, this opportunity. this is so selfish of me” you say as tears welled up in your eyes. shaking as you rub your arm.

beomgyu wants to reach out his hand to you, attempt to make you feel better, but he worries it would make you uncomfortable.

“sorry, ah geez i’m being the worst right now aren’t i?” he chuckles scratching his head.

you look up to him with a worried expression, he was the complete opposite of worst you say in your head.

why was he apologizing, he had no reason to. it’s not like he tripped you. until you saw the guilty expression on his face. you then lie your head on his arm, it was his turn to flinch as he was surprised by your unexpected movement.

honestly this was unlike you but you felt a sort of comfort from him you guess, and it was okay. right now, you thought that it was important to reassure him and for him to not misunderstand you.

he then shifts a bit more leaning to the side a bit so you can lie down on his shoulder more comfortably.

for a silent while, you quietly let tears fall from your eyes as the guilt overwhelms you not knowing what to do by what was currently on your plate.

“you’re allowed to take it easy y/n, not everything is your fault you know?” he says looking down to you in his soft voice.

you sniffle, silent for a moment longer.

“i probably am, but i can’t bring myself not to” you say still sounding nasal. he waits to see if you were gonna say anything else, before he wraps his arm around yours, caressing your shoulder.

“take a break here then with me then, just for a little while.” he says calmly as he looks over to first aid kit in the corner.

“but we do need ice before that bruise gets anymore serious, it’ll only hurt more. trust me” he helps you up hand in hand, guiding you to the back of the shop where a medium-sized couch was.

he helps you lie your legs down across the cushions as he goes to grab the first aid kit and water bottles.

“are we allowed to be here?” you asked a bit cautious

“don’t worry, my family owns this shop” he yells from the corner

“your mom is auntie min?” wide eyed moving your head forward

he laughs “well i thought we established that earlier but yeah” he says while running a cloth in cold water. he grabs a stool, reel it to sit in beside you while you’re sitting up across the small couch.

“hey um-“ he timidly gestures “can i?” pointing to your very red arm.

you stood there hesitant for a moment. clenching your hand, you switch between him and your leg unsure. but you settle for simply nodding at him.

he gently applies a cold ice pack making you wince back a bit in pain “sorry i know, it’s cold. it’ll feel better after a bit though” the usual sparkle in his eyes drop, he looks focused. rather serious

“no don’t apologize you’re doing this, you don’t even have to in the first place” you murmur. leaving him to breathe out and relax a bit.

after a few more seconds, he lets go seeing that the ice is steady, resting on your arm. he hands you a water bottle and ask “you’re from japan right?

“yeah, but im not entirely japanese, my mom is korean. my dad is—“

he looks up at you when you’ve suddenly gone quiet. studying your expression, he realize it has gone blank. your lips starting to quiver and your hand is back in a fist. hes quick to react putting an hand on your shoulder.

“h-hey hey, what’s wrong?”

you’re quick to think that now isn’t exactly the best place to break down in tears. especially with someone you’ve only recently befriended, how do people go along with this? knowing the right words, the right feelings to convey.

you felt stupid

why would you bring that him in the first place, were you not thinking? its your fault. and now look what you’ve done to yourself.

you just stayed silent, you didn’t wanna look at him you as felt ashamed in a way. you felt like a sort of monster, a despicable being. you couldn’t stand it.

“you know you’re pretty different than what my mom told me” he suddenly perked up

“wh-“

“i pictured the daughter of my moms friend who happened to moving here when i first heard of you” he said in a low tone

“i was expecting just to meet her and have a new acquaintance, if she was willing to anyway. my mom described her as a bit timid and quiet

but all i’ve ever seen from you is your abilities to fight off that specific quietness. the quiet that suffocates people til it’s the only thing they breathe. and that’s daunting isn’t it?

but i just think someone like that, wouldn’t come in the form of you. that song, your voice. oh! your dance…”

“you saw that?!” you paled

“well… yeah, but i thought it was cute” he said pulling on the collar of his shirt. he closed his eyes biting back a laugh. showing a smile with the side of cat whiskers.

he really was just beautiful, wasn’t he?

but the life to his features wasn’t their great proportions. it was the life he put in them, his life. it glowed like how good dreams would

it felt different. it definitely was different. to you anyway. feeling flushed you breathed back a lump. but he never left your sight of vision, you couldn’t miss something.

“i guess… you’re somewhat sweet” you mumbled back

he turned his head to you as yours turned away, “if i have to admit it” shifting your eyes everywhere but in his direction

he gawks a bit confused, but a moment passes he chuckles, relieved that you appeared to have finally seemed to have let him in a bit more. he leans back a bit

“i'm glad”

A/N. idk about this episod,, also ik that beomgyus' mom isn't named min nor is it confirmed, but I put that just for the sake of the plot hehe <3

#beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year

Text

The Bride In Black P74-78

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster (Vampire)

Couple Tbs X Reader

Rating Sweet

Series The Bride In Black

After giving jack Jack a full tour of the house's renovations we went through to the dining room all well prepared. His mother at the end as usual with Ava and Oliver on either side of her, Thomas at the other with Jack and myself on either side of him all of us taking and laughing about everything sharing wine.

"And I swear to god it was the craziest thing we ever did"

"You've all had such long interesting lives" I smiled

"Or we're all just nuts" Jack laughed

"Jurys out on that one" Thomas laughed sipping his drink

"But come on we have endless stupid stories which I'm sure we will get though but come on I wanna hear about what I've missed" he says "Ava? Oliver? This whole... situation?"

"Well, I guess it all started when Aunt lisa came up said she wanted to host her wedding here, we did all the planning all the organization and of course as always we sent the invites out with a few welcome strangers" Ava explained "Her wedding was so beautiful, and... I saw oliver across the dance floor looking around like a little lost puppy." she giggled

"I was scared" he spoke up

"And we got talking and... that was it." she giggled

"We shared numbers and we just ended up on call all day everyday for months" he smiled "I just wanted to hear her voice everyday"

"Awww your so sweet" she cooes. "We couldn't handle being away from each other. So I invited him to stay over for the weekend,"

"And I'm still here"

"We where engaged just a month later" she smiled

"Thats so sweet" he smiled "You two seem so sweet together I wish I could have been here for the wedding"

"We wanted to invite you" she says "but... we where worried about everything"

"Its understandable. I just happy that your happy together" He says "what about you too?" he turned his attention to us

"Well, When ava sent out her invitations we of course sent them out to the usual random welcome strangers and I got a call though about the wedding and... it was y/n." he explained "she came up for the wedding and... I haven't let her go since" he joked holding my hand "We are getting married soon aren't we"

"Very soon" "Adorable" He laughs "You got strangers coming to yout wedding?"

"I think so" I nodded

"Good. By this rate I'll met myself a wife at your wedding"

"We can hope" their mother laughed

"You'll stay? Till the wedding?" I asked

"Of course" He smiled "To catch up and all." he says "I... i have missed you all I have."

I felt like hours but the good type felt like hours, ava and Oliver headed up to their room a while ago and their mother not long after leaving me, jack and Thomas together in the study the two of them laughing like crazy until Thomas spoke up.

"Back in a sec, I'll get us another bottle," He says taking the empty wine bottle with him as he headed out of the study I assume to the cellar leaving me and jack alone in the study on either side of the sofa. "He's quite smitten with you"

"I'm rather smitten with him too" I giggled having been fairly tipsy now given the amount of wine we had got through tonight.

"You seem very sweet."

"Thank you, it all happened so fast but... I've never been happier"

"Good, He deserves a lovely girl like you," he says

"Your sweet" I smiled "Can I ask? how you and Thomas met?"

"Oh, well that was an awfully long time ago"

"It's alright if you don't-"

"No, No I'll tell you the story." He laughs "It was... ohhh 1901? maybe 03? and I was just hanging around this little bar in the middle of nowhere I had been doing a bit of a rebellious run from my family."

"you were?"

"Kinda yeah, My family are very old-world vampires and I'm not even that old nothing compared to Thomas so sort of had a bit of a young rebellion phase about then. And I was running off deep into the countryside just to get away from them." He explained "But anyway I was in this little pub little did I know I was in pennyshire. and it was way, way easier to be a vampire back then. before everyone had a phone and everyone was way more connected but it was much easier back then. and I was sipping my beer trying to pick myself out a nice little snack for the evening. and this guy walks in" he says "and we both kinda get a look at each other. and we both get a smell of each other. I kinda glared at him he kinda glared at me. and he came over to me and immediately we both knew he's a vampire too."

"Really?"

"yeah, and we got talking and ended up visiting each other pretty much every day for a year and we very quickly became best friends." he smiled "then... The announcement came. War. At first, we all paniced we had no idea what was going to happen and me and Thomas paniced because we didn't know how we were going to avoid the draft. we knew it was coming for us and Thomas had this great idea why don't we join the air force? Learn to fly. we're not going to be in contact where people can find out what we are, and when the planes fall out of the sky we can get up come back with a beard and a new name and try it all again"

"sounds like a very good plan"

"It was worked out really well. and about midway through we figured out almost everyone else was one of three things, A Vampire. An incubus. or gay. some both. and we all formed a big group all of us The Flying Bat's and we all became such close friends" he explained "We even went back all of us reformed the flying bat's for the second time and went through it all again"

"When did he... find his lady?"

"His lady? Ohh god. I think the first day we turned up when they started taking people on for the second go. and we got onto the base and immediately he froze up as he saw this new plane that we would all be trained on and he fell in love. he took care of that plane like it was his child - No like his girlfriend. sorry"

"It's okay. I know he loves it"

"he still has it?"

"Of course. in the barn"

"He'll keep it forever"

"He will. It's okay I like a little fly"

"He's lucky to have an understanding girl like you" he laughs

"How did it all end?"

"well... That's a big thing."

"I know. About her."

"You do?"

"He told me"

"surprising" he chuckled "He told you everything?"

"I think so."

"So you know about Valerie?"

"I do"

"As I said. My family are old vampires. I may be young but I have a much older mentality." he says "when I first met her she was here as... his friend. someone he let in Soho that he was friends with. she was in the workshop in these little shorts and immediately I didn't like her that's just personal. Personality clash. we didn't get on from the moment we caught eyes on each other." he says

"Really?"

"Absolutely." he says "and then... she started to visit more often. and then started to stay over more often and it kinda started to... worry me. But this was on the basis purely of I don't like my best friends girlfriend you know we've all had your mate date someone you don't like and this wasn't his first girlfriend I'd known so I didn't really worry I assumed you know they where friends maybe trying to get a little closer it would fizzle out." he explained "and then it didn't. She basically lived here. He gave her the guest suite on the third floor and she pretty much moved in. And that made me very concerned"

"Understandable" "and then I start to notice... visitors."

"Visitors?"

"We had always had visitors you know big family, lots of friends. But... they were having parties, out in one of the outbuildings baring in mind this is 1986 so... drinks, drugs, alot of that kinda thing going on until the early hours. Every night. And I sat thomas down and I said hey I'm worried about you. I'm worried she is a bad influence on you. and I want to let you know as your friend, I don't trust her and I think your relationship with her is a bad idea." he says "You know what he said to me?"

"No?"

"I'm not in a relationship with her." he says "He says I am not dating her, our relationship is purely friends. and I said mate I've seen your parties. I've seen you make out with this girl and do drugs with her I've seen all that you can't tell me you don't have a relationship she's fucking moved into the house. and he said yeah but we don't like each other like that it's just fun" he explained "so I backed off a little I wasn't happy but he clearly had too get this out of his system. Then I noticed People coming up and down from the third floor. And I'm like what the hell why are there all these people? Are human people coming in and out? and I asked Valerie who these people were and she explained they were clients. that she was a -"

"Prostitute. I know. Thomas told me"

"Yeah, and honestly I didn't mind that. You know whatever her life even if it did kinda make me think why I didn't like her. And maybe... a week, after this conversation. I'm laid in bed and I hear this noise. Humans are really easy to hear in a house of vampires. and I hear her screaming. I assumed Ohh she must have a client over. And I too lived on the third floor. and I Just wanna sleep so I get up and bang on her door trying to get her to shut up and as I do the door creaks open. Her room's empty. But I can still hear her. So I go down and I find the noise is coming from the master suite. the lord suite. thomas' room. and I blow a fucking gasket. I couldn't believe he was doing that with her. and he comes out and explains he's not fucking her so it doesn't matter there just having fun and I scream at the top of my lungs waking his mother and ava up too who both joined me"

"I can imagine so"

"After a full screaming match Valerie goes to her room and me and Thomas come down here and we talked it through and I said everything I told him I didn't like her, I didn't trust her, I didn't want her living here and I didn't want him and her to be doing that sort of thing because of how easy in a drunk or drug-filled way it could become much much more. Do you know about-"

"Yes. Vampires Mate for life."

"He said I was overreacting. and continued on anyway." he says "I didn't like it but... I put up with it for a while Until she got sick. And he said They were going to mate. going to get married. and he was going to turn her to keep her alive. I said he was nuts. I said don't do this you'll regret it. You don't want a relationship like your parents had. married and mated not for love but because you feel you have to. I know you're not happy, and I know you want someone, but whoever you are meant to be with is out there she has to be, it's not her. we both know that. don't waste your life on someone who doesn't love you. we got into a huge fight. and before we got too mad about where our forms would come out I just snapped and I said... fuck it. do what you want. And I went upstairs and I packed my bags, I left."

"that's it?"

"That's it. His letter was the first time we spoke since. And I am thrilled he has a lovely girl like you to keep him straight" He smiled tapping my hand, resting his hand there in a friendly way "I'm sure you too will be very happy together"

"I think so too, I love him so much" I smiled

"Then I'm sure your process and eternity together will go well." He smiled "come here beautiful" He smirked closing the gap on the sofa between us and trying to kiss me Immediately I moved back against the armrest of the sofa pushing his hand away

"Jack."

"what? You're so beautiful I just wanted to see what he likes about you so much" he smirked trying to kiss me but I pushed him away and got up from the sofa to put space between us

"No. absolutely not. I'm engaged to Thomas. we're getting married soon." I said fiddling with my ring "it's not even a possibility" I shook my head

"okay" he nods "I did good?" He laughs

"perfect," Thomas spoke up I turned and saw the door to the passageway open and Thomas stood there a bottle of wine in hand

"what- what's going on?"

"I put him up to it. to trying anyway." Thomas explained coming in "Thank you jack"

"No problem, happy to help," He says as Thomas poured him a glass of wine

"You- you put him up to it?"

"I did. I'm sorry y/n really I am. I just... felt a little nervous. I trust you, I do. I just couldn't help wondering I'm sorry for the deception"

"It's okay, Understandable given the circumstances of our meeting and start of the Relationship but you know you don't have to worry Thomas I love you very much why would I ever even thinks bout anyone else"

"Thank you, darling, you know you never have to worry about anyone else too right?"

"I do I trust you"

"I trust you too. I love you so much" he cooes cuddling me tightly

"Ohh I get it your in love, and your adorable." jack laughed sipping more drink

I woke with a yawn and a stretch pushing myself up getting dressed for the day and just shoving my hair in a bun not really wanting to worry about it today. I looked around properly and noticed I was alone so I took the passage down to the study expecting to see him there but no the study too was empty. That's strange? I headed to the kitchen. Perhaps he wanted some breakfast or something? But that too was empty. So I wandered around the house checking all the usual places when I spotted Ava doing yoga in the Luna courtyard.

"Morning" I waved

"Morning" she waved back "care to join?"

"I'm alright thank you, you haven't seen your brother have you?"

"Thomas's in the library. Didn't say what he was up to" she explained

"AHH thank you" I smiled scurrying off to the library, in my opinion, one of the grandest rooms in the whole house with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a fireplace built into the centre of the furthest wall, A Large French out to a gothic metal conservatory that overlooked the garden with various furniture inside and just outside for all the places you could want to read whatever the weather, a few sofa's and chairs dotted around to read in as well as a large desk where I found Thomas with a bunch of paperwork dressed up smartly but comfortably in his black jeans and red long sleave shirt rolled to his elbows.

"Oohh hello darling" He smiled perking up as he saw me

"Hi" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss "What are you up to?" I asked

"Just sorting for the wedding my darling"

"Oh?"

"We've had most of the responses in so I've been doing seating arrangements and such like"

"Ohh, good plan"

"Anything you'd like to add?" He asks letting me see the seating plan he was working on

"No I'm happy with that, everyone seems good there"

"Good. You running off or are you going to stay and keep me cosy?"

"I'll stay" I smiled sitting with him so we could cuddle as he did his paperwork, helping where I could. as it was all the final paperwork bits for our wedding

"How's your dress coming?'

"All done, all perfect."

"I can't wait to see it." He smiled "I can't wait to see you in a wedding dress" he Cooes

"I'm excited too Thomas." I smiled "you think your family will like me? As your wife?"

"Of course they will. You're my beautiful little Y/n, everyone will love you" he Cooes hugging me tightly

"You think so?"

"I know so, besides the amount of the family that still talks to us is all I care about"

"How so?"

"Have I not told you the story?"

"I don't think so? Which story?"

"The family history?"

"No."

"Ohh I suppose I should, given our upcoming wedding and all. Just a Moment" he smiled getting up clearing the table and fetching a large handbound book "the history of the Sangster Family, you might wanna move to a sofa this is gonna be long"

"Alright" I giggled moving to the little sofa by the window putting a blanket over my lap and getting a cushion to hug he laughed and threw a log on the fire moving to the chair beside the sofa "you're going to tell me a tale?"

"Yes dear" he chuckled. "Are you sitting comfortably?"

"Yes"

"Then we shall begin" he smiled "this book is all known records and history of the Sangster Family" he explained "The records of the Sangster Family prior to this are unfortunately lost to time, but our records begin with my great grandfather Samuel Sangster, born somewhere in the early eleven hundreds but we don't have many records of him, he was king of a small nation known as Vampirica, a nation that had known vampire rule since it's very inception. King of fair Vampirica was my great grandfather Samuel Sangster who married his beautiful wife Penelope sometime in the early twelve hundreds unfortunately information on the exact dates is a tad fuzzy." He explained "then in the fair year of 1220, my grandfather Henry Sangster was born as a sole prince to the throne, unfortunately, his mother Penelope died only a day later due to complications with childbirth" he explained "and only a week later just seven days Samuel then committed suicide"

"He did?"

"Yes."

"Ohh goodness"

"It's very common in vampire families, when a mate dies your missing your other half it's a horrible heartbreaking experience many don't live through it and find they would rather it then go through the suffering" he explained "so that left my grandfather Henry to rule as king of the kingdom"

"King of Vampirica"

"Indeed, he found the love of his life in Miss Marcelline Petrov, a young maiden in the city they courted for a while and she ended up pregnant. So they married in 1241 with her going through the process just days later, successful of course. bringing her fully into the family. Grandma Marcy."

"Who bred the roses? In the secret garden?"

"Yes, the garden that was once hers, that now belongs to you" he smiled "not long after she was crowned queen she gave birth to three sons, triplets. Lucas, Markus and Nathan Sangster. Lucas being the eldest took up being heir but all held the prince title. They ruled Vampirica well, then 1420 aunt Luna was born, however... issues began to arise. Unrest began in Vampirica the people didn't like keeping this secret about their royalty or like being ruled over by immortal monsters so when their son Wotton was born in 1618 they revolted. Captured the triplets and executed them as a sign of death to the royal family. Luckily they managed to flee Vampirica letting it crumble to nothing but a forgotten land engulfed by other nations. Not even the castle remains now. But they fled here, my mother natasha Sangster being born on the way. they formed the township of Pennyshire and my grandfather began construction of the house. Next was my cousins Liza, Lisa and William Sangster, wottons children born in 1632 their mother we still don't know" he explained

"They all lived here?"

"They did," he nods, "even my aunt Luna had her son Sammy in 1660." He explained "once the manor was built Marcy and Henry declared themselves lord and lady Sangster of Sangster Manor. And all was well the town grew, the family was happy" he explained "in 1696 Natasha Sangster my mother met a man from town mark fisher they had a rather quick relationship forming a fast friendship and... things happened"

"What happened?" I asked

"Well the extended family left many of which still refused to speak to us"

"Why?"

"Well, in May of 1697 I was born."

"Yay my Thomas arrives into the world"

"Indeed"

"Wait? That's only-"

"Umm humm"

"Ooh."

"Yep. They were married a year later"

"You little bastard"

"I know. The family didn't like my mother getting pregnant without being married. They often said honestly they only married because the family sort of made them feel like they had to. And of course, then his process failed leaving my father as only a half-vampire." He explained

"Oh dear"

"But still life goes on. I grew up. Found the garden. We gained more staff. Until that day... Pennyshire revolted after finding the truth about us. My grandmother burnt at the stake, my grandfather was furious and killed everyone he could before returning home. He barely lasted a week either before he took his form and headed into the sun. Leaving my mother and father as lord and lady of the manor. And in 1720 my sister Ava was born, after that we went on a few adventures and things I met and ate lillibeth. My parents finally decided in 1890 to separate and it wasn't long after that they had their fight my father, leaving me as lord of the house. And I think you likely know the rest"

"Wars. Peace. Valerie. Oliver and here we are"

"Pretty much. I'm sure we'll get our own page in the history book when we get married" he smiled, setting the book down and coming to cuddle me giving my nose a kiss.

"You think so?"

"I know we will" he smiled "and our own beautiful portrait for the house"

"I shall have to pick out a beautiful dress"

"I was thinking... maybe we could have the portrait of you in, your wedding dress" he smiled

"You don't know what it looks like yet? You might not like it"

"Well I'm sure it'll be impossible for you to look more beautiful than how you look on our wedding day"

"Well only a couple more weeks to find out"

"Ummm then you will be my pretty wifey. Will you take it?"

"Take what?"

"The name? My grandmother did, my father did, will you?"

"Of course, I'm joining the family Thomas, in law, in blood, shouldn't I in name too?'

"You should. Hum. What will that make you then?"

"Take a guess" I giggled

"Mrs Y/n Sangster. Suits you"

"It does sound nice, I suppose I best get used to it"

"You should, come on let's go make some tea and have a walk in the gardens" he smiled offering his hand so I happily took it.

We walked hand in hand through the sweet garden looking at all the various blooms, many of which were impossible to find elsewhere in the world. All the while we chatted mostly about our wedding and how excited we both were. Until we stumbled upon Oliver's greenhouse deep in the gardens a long walk to or from anywhere else the tall two-towered metal structure was built at a similar time to the spa or certainly looked as if it had been. Full with flourishing plants and flowers on various shelves and stands. Oliver saw us through the window and opened the little door

"Hello" He smiled

"Hi Oliver, Out here again?" Thomas asked

"Course, I always am" he chuckled cleaning his dirt-covered hands off on his green gardening apron with a small planting fork hanging from its pocket

"What are you working on?" I asked

"Well someone has to get the gardens ready for you two's wedding"

"And we're very thankful for all your help Oliver"

"It's no trouble I needed an excuse to kick my damn butt to sort this place out"

"I was looking a little..."Thomas began

"Watch it"

"Sorry"

"It's fine, Been busy" Oliver shrugs

"Would you like to come on a walk with us?" I asked

"That's alright I have work to do"

"Ohh, if you don't mind I'd love to help. I've been meaning to chat with you anyway"

"Sure I can always use a spare hand"

"You don't mind Thomas?"

"Not at all Y/n. just yell if you need me" He smiled giving me a sweet kiss before he continued on his garden walk so I hurried inside the greenhouse to help Oliver with the plants and flowers most of it stuff to set up our wedding

"You take good care of this place?"

"I have too, it's my little home out of the house. Little space away from Ava. I love her but you know we all need our own space" he says "Thomas gave you somewhere like that yet?

"Yes. but it's a secret"

"Fair enough" he chucked

"How long have you had the greenhouse?"

"Well it's always been on the property but fallen into disrepair when I met lawan, when I moved in she found I like dot go walking and decided to give me it been fixing it up ever since" he explained

"Well it's lovely" I smiled

"Thanks, Y/n" He smiled

"What did... you mean?"

"What?"

"When did you give me that little note? At dinner?"

"Oh, I was wondering when that would come back to bite me," He says "Come on," he says heading to the door, I followed him out the two of us walking through the garden with a fair space between us "When I first met Ava I have to admit I was utterly smitten with her, we met at the wedding and we just couldn't help wanting to be with each other all the time constantly on call, constantly talking and I just couldn't stay away. But... I have to admit. When she first told me, of the family secret. And showed me her true form. I was scared. Scareder than I had ever felt before I did my best to save face because I love her so much but she frightened me beyond measure. I didn't sleep for a week. I'd lay in bed thinking about ava's form. About Natalie, about Thomas. How at a drop of a pin could any of them could kill me. But she promised I was safe. When I learnt about the process I would have to endure I admit that it spooked me too. When you arrived and it became clear you were staying here, I got worried for you. I had heard about Thomas's form, about his... violence before. And that you too would have to go through the process. My cold feet got the better of me." he explained "I'm sorry for that note, I shouldn't have written it. I was being foolish, worrying for you, and for myself. I'm sorry for scaring you and if I caused you any doubt"

"It didn't. I was worried more for you than for me. I understand I was scared when I found out too we have been brought into a very strange world"

"We have"

"What was it like? The process? You're the only person I've ever met who's gone through it"

"Honestly?"

"Yes please"

"It hurts. Like hell. It's a pain I can't explain, like being completely drained of everything when you enter a dream-like state. I had a vision for what felt like hours. My body in so much pain my mind could barely comprehend it"

"You're not really making me feel better Oliver"

"Sorry"

"It's fine. I'd rather you tell me the truth."

"But... the moment I took that breath. It was like I was reborn. The pain didn't matter anymore. I couldn't even remember the pain. I didn't even see any of you, it was like all that existed in the universe was me and Ava." He explained

"That sounds magical"

"It was. It truly was. Now we share a heartbeat, she's been teaching me how to do the vampire stuff"

"How does it feel? To share a heartbeat?"

"Well... you know how you lay on Thomas's chest and you feel his heartbeat against your skin?"

"Yes" I blushed a little

"Well Imagine that but as if the whole world around you vibrates at that same rhythm, you feel it through your whole body both of you being connected in a way that doesn't even seem real at first but the most amazing feeling in the world"

"It sounds beautiful. I'm sure I'll feel it when my process is done."

"I know you will." He smiled "You're gonna make a great sister in law I know it"

"Thanks, Oliver, you're going to be the best brother in law" I smiled "Enjoy the garden I have to go find Thomas now, he'll get pouty without me" I giggled

"Alright, see you later"

"See you" I smiled taking a little path through the garden and letting him head back to his greenhouse. I hurried through quickly finding the little bit of the garden we had set up for our wedding it had been trimmed and made beautifully ready for the wedding to be set up soon and that is of course where I found Thomas standing facing away from me. "Daydreaming?" I asked

"Somewhat" he chuckled walking over to the arch yet to be covered in flowers where our altar would be.

"Don't I get a kiss? Or a cuddle?" I asked

"I'm not allowed to look at you," he says

"Thomas. That rule doesn't come in for at least another two weeks" I giggled

"I wonder where she is? I wonder if she's going to be late" he muttered

I giggled and picked up a stray daisy in the grass holding it in my hands starting to playfully sing the wedding march "Du, du, du, dun, dun, du, du, dun, dun," I giggled walking down the little path that was to be our alise giving his shoulder a little tap, he slowly turned and took my hand smiling widely

"Ohh... darling. I don't think you've ever looked so beautiful"

"Really?"

"Even if this is a practice" He smiled stroking my cheek "Your so beautiful" He cooes

"I have to admit, you look very handsome"

"Your so sweet" he cooes kissing my forehead "Come on" he smiled holding my hand tightly as he tugged me to stand beside him "Welcome to all those here, so on and so on, vows and agreements, do you?" he asks

"Yes" I giggled

"Do I? Of course I do." He chuckled "Exchange of rings" he smiled pretending to slip a ring on my finger with my engagement ring so I giggled and did so to him too "and Now I kiss my bride?" he asks

"You may" I giggled

He smiled and leaned over giving me a sweet little kiss "and that's it. We're married."

"We will be. Just a couple more weeks"

"I know, but still good we had a little practice" he smiled "did you have a nice chat with Oliver?"

"I did"

"Good, come on it's getting grey. We should get inside"

"Alright," I smiled throwing my daisy and taking his hand so we could head back inside.

I hurried down the hallways and stairwells of the house all with the little woven basket on my hip filled to the brim with our laundry, I made my way across the second-floor landing when I heard a strange sound. I craned my neck up the stairwell to the third floor when I saw... a rather strange site especially for this early in the morning.

The tall wooden stairs winding their way up to the third floor are the same dark but polished wood as the rest of the house' flooring. A few old paintings hung up along the walls, but most out of the ordinary was Thomas and Jack stood at the top of the stairs.

Jack in a pair of loose fitting cargo trousers and a grey sweatshirt leant up with his back against the wall a large pink and green water pistol in his hand.

Thomas leant beside him with is tattered black jeans so tattered in fact parts of them I could see his legs and I think his whole knee was out on one side, and a loose red t shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a smaller blue and yellow water pistol in his own hand the two of them clearly sneaking around even singing there own theme music like little spies.

"What on earth are you boys up to?" I giggled

"Oh Hi Darling" Thomas waves

"Hi Darling" Jack laughs

"Don't call her that, jack"

"Why? You call her that?"

"Exactly that's my name for her" he pouts

"Alright sorry" He chuckled

"What's up my darling?"

"I will repeat. What are you doing?" I asked

"Uuhhh what are we doing?" he asks jack

"... I don't know how to explain it"

"We basically fill water guns with juice and go around being spies sometimes making people sticky" Thomas explained

"Okay" I giggled

"You're okay with this?" he asks coming down to see me

"You do whatever makes you happy my love" I smiled

His smile widened and he wrapped his arms around waist "ummm I love you so much"

"I love you too Thomas" I smiled as he pulled me into a sweet cosy kiss "what sort of juice?"

"Apple"

"Ah?" I smiled opening my mouth so he happily aimed and gave the gun a few squirts so I had a nice little amount of apple juice "thank you"

"Your girlfriend is awesome" jack laughs

"I know' Thomas smiled

"Have fun" I told him pushing him so I could continue on my way

"You too" he smiled scurrying back up the stairs

"Ohh I will. Washing undies and ironing ties"

"Could you make sure to wash my Lucky socks? I want them for the wedding"

"Your not wearing those damn things to our wedding Thomas"

"But-"

"No buts there full of holes and stains"

"By their my lucky socks? I wore them when I met you"

"Fine. But I can't be held responsible for if they come apart in the wash"

"Alright. You boys play nice alright" I told them as I hurried along to what is likely the most unimpressive room of the house having scurried down the stairs to the cellar but hanging a right to the small white and grey tiled room with an old door that had one of those brushes on the bottom making the familiar sound as you opened the door. The room is small with little grey wallpaper with large red poppy flowers, a large farmhouse sink, various shelves with bleaches, Washing powder and all other required bottles and gadgets. The large washing machine and dryer we put in with the renovations and a small line draped over the whole room for the few things that couldn't be dried. I sat my basket on the counter and pulled over a small stool as I began sorting things to be washed humming a little tune to myself. I sorted everything, getting the first load by taking what has been left on the dryer and folding it up as it was what I put in yesterday. Once all done with everything for now anyway waiting on the washing machine to be done washing. I shut the little door up and snuck over, pulling down the ironing board from the wall revealing the little blue bag and its coat hanger. My wedding dress has been sweetly hidden away since it arrived from the seamstress. I had comissioned her based on her other work I had seen online having many emails back and forth and designs of the sort of things I wanted, and when it finally arrived I immediately fell in love with it, it was everything I ever dreamed my wedding dress to be, I had given it a wash as she had instructed me too and of course tried it on already but I wanted to open the bag give it a try on and a play given our wedding was only days away but the machine's alarm sounded so I hid it away again and went back to the laundry.

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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

Note

Hi hope you’re having a wonderful day! Could I please get a bnha coraline au story. So like y/n has had a pretty bad life like a whole bunch of stuff and now they have to basically parents their own parents at the age of 15 cause they’re lazy alcoholics who just go to work come back and drink. One day after they move in y/n gets curious and finds explores around the house while they’re alone and discovers the door to the other world and meets their dream parents. The parents are aizawa and present mic who just genuinely love the reader, they don’t want to take readers soul that just want to help them. They have a sister eri and a brother shinso and when reader tries to leave they all beg and threaten reader not to leave cause “your parents never cared for you anyways” and “we’ll love you more then they ever would” and force reader to be the new baby of the family gender neutral reader if possible, please and thank you ( 03^)~💚

YANDERE CORALINE AU ERASERMIC FAMILY X READER

GN READER

-I do apologize if you wanted a shorter work, because this ended up being kinda long, sorry!

-there are a few grammar and spelling mistakes here and there, this is unedited, I will fix them :)

(I don’t know if you actually wanted the reader to be treated like a baby, literally like an infant, or just like the youngest in the family, I needed up doing the second option, tell me if wrong.)

——————————————————————-

You hummed a tune as you wandered the hallways, your footsteps dragging, you had tried to tell your mother to drink some water and put the strong bottle of vodka down before she ended up killing herself. She yelled at you, told you to “shut the hell up ya damn brat”, god knows where your father even is. It had only been a day or two in this house, and they had already made it feel like a prison for you, oh my, A SINGLE DAY.

In all honesty the house was nice, old, yes, but still nice. It seemed as if the last owners hadn’t been here for hundreds of years, let alone clean the place, as all embellishments on the walls were antique styled, and everything, I repeat, everything, was covered in dust. There were a few different pieces of furniture that looked as ancient as the neighbors, including a dresser filled with a different articles of clothing, a few dusty chairs here and there, curtains clawed away by... something, and little tables with droors filled with little trinkets.

One room in particular was exceptionally creepy in your eyes, it seemed like a child once slept there, probably long dead by now, the walls were covered in a striped floral wallpaper, chipping at the edges, various stuffed animals that hadn’t been touched in ages, what looked to be a changing table, and a smaller sized bed placed in the middle, fitted with dusty purple bedsheets, probably that color because of the gathering dust, you sat down on the mattress, inhaling the scent of the room. It smelled oddly of lavender, not a musty mildew smell you were expecting. You spent a moment just finding comfort in the warm smell, before noticing a small dent in the wall behind what you thought could be a changing table. Almost looked like... a tiny door?

“What the heck is that?” You questioned or yourself, narrowing your eyes at the wooden frame that looked like a small threshold, cautiously standing up form the bed, and making your way over to the door, you struggled to move the large piece of furniture, pushing back gains the groun and shoving it out of the way. It was indeed a door, and it was indeed tiny. There was a small cobweb strung across the mass of it, which you batted away with your little hands, pulling at the doorknob a few times to reveal the fact that it was locked, you let out an exasperated sigh. Well... it’s not like you have much to do, might as well find the key.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken long for you to find the small, heart shaped key that fit the locked door, it was tucked into one of the white droors of the small table in the corner. It was the first place you looked, almost as if it’d been calling out for you. It only took a few moments for you to push the key into the lock and turn, you let out a sigh of relief when you heard the satisfying click of the lock opening. Wondering what was going to be on the other side, you pushed open the mini door, to reveal a tunnel of sorts... today’s just full of surprises isn’t it.

“Man this tunnel is lo... whoah.” You stood, still balled up in a crawli mg position, shocked at your own surroundings. Everything looked so... new, and polished, you stared Jan absolute awe at everything, literally everything. Where are you?

“Oh, honey you’re finally here!” A male voice rang out from behind you, immediately large hands were lifting you off the floor from under your arms, holding you like a baby, this guy cradled your head in his chest, no matter how much you squirmed, the iron grip he had on you did not loosen. You snapped your head up to meet his eyes, only to be met with buttons of such a piercing yellow it almost hurt your own eyes. A shrill scream left your lips, as you flung your feet back and forth in attempts to free yourself.

“Oh, oh right. I’m sorry , I should’ve been a little slower, it’s scary I know, you’ll get used to it I promise. I’m hizashi, your other father, re you alright?” He questioned, backing up a little to give you space, bringing his hands up to tell you he wasn’t going to hurt you, ever. You were usually a calm person, but given the situation, like some random person living in your house with buttons for eyes, the reaction was warranted. You breathed for a small moment, inhaling the even stronger scent of lavender that was oh so comforting, before standing back up, giving whatever this was at a chance of explanation.

“Who- who are you?” The question left your lips faster than tryouts could hold it in, he gave you a smile and walked closer again, booping your nose and once again pulling you off the ground. He was tall, slightly lanky, and his hair was a bright yellow to match his eyes, little dangle earring wee attached to his ears, you just stared in awe at the inhuman man who was holding you.

“Silly little thing! I just said it! I’m your other father, like your real father, just perfect for you! Dinners almost ready, so let’s go meet the rest of the fmIly okay bubs?” He questioned m, speaking down to you like one would a child, even though you are a fully capable human. He grabbed your hand, and gently rigged you off into some hallway, you slightly dig your feet in, staring back at the little door that got you here in the first place.

———

“Honey, this is your reality, if it was perfectly fit for you! We love you, unlinke those scum who call your your parents, don’t your bat to be loved for once y/n?” He spoke, the two of you arrived at what was probably the kitchen, him explaining what was happening pretty thoroughly considering he had to do it in a few minutes, barging through the doors, a few other pairs of button eyes were scattered thievhiur the kitchen.

“Daddy! I helped bubba make dinner tonight!” A little girl, probably not even over the age of five, came running towards the two of you, smiling fully. She was sporting a pair of red buttons, which matched her little jumper, you had your face buried in this ma- hizashis chest, his arms wrapped around the entirety of you. He sent an exited stare towards the little girl, who jsut gasped and smiled even harder. She made little grabby hands towards you, so hizashi set you down on the ground, whispering a “time to get down” in your ear. Instantly, the little girl attached herself to your torso.

“Bubba/sissy!” She squealed, patting your stomach, as much as you would love to knock her off of you, she’s a kid, you don’t do that to kids. This young girl claimed to be your other sister, which at this point you were led to believe because apparently anything is possible at this point, she was pretty adorable.

“I-uh, yeah?” You spluttered, visibly flustered, you tried to get a grip of yourself, it was kindof odd, although the girl seemed much younger than you, the way she carried herself presented that she was much older than she came off, from the maternal glint in her eyes, to the planned movements, it just seemed... mature.

—————small time skip—————

It had been maybe an hour, you had been seated at a dinner table, quite the large one actually, in between a black haired man that you could tell was staring at you, and a purple haired teenager who looked to be a similar age to you. You sat there just kindof awkwardly trying to not touch any of them. At one pint. The purple haired guy tried to feed you, which was an unfortunate suprise because you were off in dreamland, and were ckmoemteky confused as to why he was even trying something like that.

“You’ll probably hurt yourself trying, just let me do it” he spoke, it is safe to say that this button eyed family is an odd bunch. First the woerd door, then a creepy guy tryna pick you up, then some little girl who probably wasn’t so little claiming you to be her “younger sibling”; then the offpdutirng glances front his beanbag guy, than this? What is happening.

Sooner or later, after the really odd display that was dinner had finished, and you had help washing your hands, because for some reason they thought you needed it, it was announced bettime, and with a snap of the man him you learned name was Aizawa, food was gone, along with all the dishes. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you almost lied this, of course not the babying thing, but the fact that you weren’t cooking or cleaning or trying to snatch a bottle from your parents, it almost made you wnat to cry how perfect this family was. God how much you wished this was your own.

It’s sounds selfish, and unreasonable, but you never had a childhood, the day you were born your life was already sighted off as “servant of my own parents”, you lived them, you did, these people were so nice thiugh, they were odd, maybe a little quirky, but still jsut a perfect little family. Apparently one that includes you.

“ALRIGHT! time for bed!” The yellow haired man exclaimed, seeeping you and eri right off of your feet, holding you in his arms as eri giggled at the sudden swish sound. The two men on the other side of the large room cracked small smiles at the sheer adorable ness of the position, the two little ones of the family and their father! What a sight to see!

“Shhhhh, I think y/n is gonna sleep with us to Tonight okay eri?” Hizashi whispered to the young girl, loud enough for you to hear, she nodded and smiled one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, hr eyebrows raising before her button eyes. She motioned to be put down ‘, waving goodbye and latching her own hand onto shinsos, who also waved his hand.

“Goodnight daddy! And y/n!” From there, you walked alongside them to their room, or what you supposed it was. This was the first time you’d really talked to Aizawa, and it was pretty embarrassing because he asked if he was aloud to change you out of your day clothes. You were a little too scared to say no, so you let him, it was probably one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to sit through, and that’s saying quite A lot.

When all was done, you had brushed your teeth, and wrrrnchanged into a set of lilac pajamas, silken and slippery, you were pulled on top of the yellow haired man, who then wrapped his arms around your waist and started “shh-ing” you, patting your head while rocking back and forth slightly, the other man slipped in next splaying his arms over you, rubbing circles into your beck

Mans with that, the lights went out, and you fell asleep.

——————————————————————

From there, everything in your life changes, you wake up the next day in the dusty lilac bed, wondering if it all was a dream, so the next night, you go back, and the next, and the next, until you started to spend your days there. Playing with eri, or cuddling with either of the three men, or just having fun without any worries or cares int the world. By that’s when it all starts, they kindof... changed.

They became overprotective, it showed in some more than others, but it was present either way. Al you wanted to do was check up on your dad to see if he was still alive or not, and eri had a whole crying fit, begging you to stay, and telling you she’d die if you left.

“No no! You can’t leave me! I-I I’m gonna die if you leave! I’ll die, please don’t keVe I promise il be good!”

It took a little shushing from you, but eventually you convinced her you weren’t going to leave, and so she went back to her normal self. You were with shinso once, and walked near the little door, he had immediately blocked it as if you were going to do something, then scolded you for going near such a “dangerous object”.

“You shouldn’t. Go close to that evil little thing, it might hurt you m, I don’t want you to get hurt, so stay away from it”

And then your other parents, they didn’t let you do anything by yourself, scared you would run off and get lost in the maze of nothing outside. You can’t even mention your real parents, you’ve been down here for at least a week now and haven’t been able to check on them, so when you did ask to go back for a day, hizashi slicks dying up and told you to cut out the nonsense, while Aizawa bubbles in anger, telling you that they lived you ten times better than your parents Eve could.

“They don’t deserve you, they don’t love you, we do, they’ll never live you half as much as we do, we can protect you here, why would you wnat to leave?”

Ans so one day, when your “other papa” or Aizawa, tried to take the key from you and lick you in here, you had enough. These people were supposed to be perfect, instead they turned obsessive, little button eyes showing up everywhere, watching your every move, you had thought your old life was a prison, now look at this.

You turned back, checking to see if anyone was watching, waiting to stop you, before pulling the key out of your pocket, ripping the boarding off of the door, pulling the panels of wood off one by one, shoving the key into the black door knob, you were just about to turn it, when a voice rang out behind you, no longer was the sweet girl who you played trains with, in the stead was something else just In ther body, you could hear it in her voice.

“Where are you going? You aren’t trying to leave are you?” She spoke, you froze on the spot, hands moving faster, ymtrying to get the stupid door to unlock, before you could even blink, the key snapped in half, not in your hold, in another sudden figure, your other brother. You didn’t even get the chance to speak before be t down and ripped the whole door knob off of it, giving you a knowing glance.

“I told you to stay away from it, I told you didn’t I? Now look, it’s broken” he hissed, throwing the iron knob somewhere else, you knew that I’d both of the siblings were here, the two parents were sure to be here along with them, you were proven right, as a pair of black and yellow buttons popped up behind the Eric girl, carrryijg... what is that?

“Oh my god... OH MY GOD” you screamed, the heads of your parents were in these men’s holds buttons sewn over the eyes, blood seeping out of their decapiated necks, you reMiedn screaming as the heads were discarded, jsut thrown off somewhere else. You were lifted up off the ground in your crying state, hizashi a hands stroked your hair, while his other hand went and wrapped around your butt to support you up.

“We told you baby, we tried to tel you at least. Now there’s nothing up there for you, there was never anything anyways, your safe now... they’ll never hurt you again. You’re ours...

Forever”

———————————————————————————————————

Tell me if you liked it, I can change things if you want:)

#coraline au #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic family #buttons #tiny door #lock and key #shinsou hitoshi #shinso #erasermic #daddy erasermic #eri #yandere present mic #yandere Aizawa #yandere shinso #yandere eri

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

sun in the shadows (03)

word count; 12,706

summary; trying to make some headway on the study leads to an interesting revelation, and progress in your friendship with noah.

notes; if this part is a little sucky, I apologise. it was a last minute addition that I created because I realised I wanted to include some extras.

warnings; brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, but it’s very mild.

The weather was improving, the drizzle of the winter and the grey skies overhead were getting lighter, the showers of rain were getting less frequent and the winter was moving on. Spring was making itself known, bulbs of daffodils were finally taking root in the soil, and green was sprouting from the earth that had been frozen over and dead only a couple of weeks ago. The watery floors were drying up, limited ice was fading away, and graduation was sitting right on the horizon for you all.

Your fingers flexed around the strap of your bag, rooting through the contents to find a place to slip your file inside, all your notes for the class you’d be having were inside, and there was a blank page for your next session waiting to be filled out. Once it had its place, albeit getting a little bit crumbled against the other content, you removed your wallet, a few coins jingling in the bottom, and you hoped it was enough for two coffees.

There was a coffee stand not too far away, and you were hoping an extra shot of coffee before you went in might get your brain working a little faster. Only a couple of feet ahead of you was a face you recognised, a dark jumper to match dark denim jeans, a pair of boots for motorbike riding that were beginning to scuff along the edges and the toes. He was hanging over his money, a brown bag holding a pretzel and a tall cup, the tell-tale tag of a teabag hanging over the edge, and he walked away.

Joining the back of the line, you watched him go, sitting not far across the quarter with his headphones on, settling on one of the recently repainted memorial benches. He pulled the tab on eh coffee back, opening it up and a cloud of steam left the drink, curling up into the air that still held a slight chill, drifting away to disappear as he blew against the surface of the drink. In his other hand was his phone, scrolling aimlessly on it as a way to keep himself disconnected from everyone else around him and prompt nobody else to join him. His bag was out on the bench too, pushed a short distance from his body in an attempt to take up the rest of the space to deter company.

Ordering a simple set of black coffees, and finding you had just enough change for a muffin too, you waited patiently for your order, an assortment of condiments and the double-chocolate treat you’d paid for being handed to you first. There was a grinding, the slight screech of the machine as it crushed the beans to create two black coffees for you, plastic lids sealed on and two cardboard jackets fastened around them.

Balancing the load between them all, you headed over to him, using your knee to nudge the bag up the bench until it bumped his leg, and he jerked slightly, looking up to see you. Offering him a beam, his narrowed eyes lightened a little, and he sighed. Putting down his phone and moving his bag to the floor, he lifted the headphones away from his ears, and let them hang around his neck. Sitting yourself down, he slumped back into the wood, and you scooted up to sit closer to him, placing the spare coffee you’d bought for Stiles on the floor away from your feet.

“Hey, Noah!” He gave a short nod, still a little uncomfortable, and he turned to face you more. “So, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“How did you know I was here?”

You shrugged, opening up the bag of extras and searching through for a couple of sweetener packets, and a wooden stirrer. “I didn’t. I was just gonna’ grab a coffee before class and head to my hall early, because, y’know, studying at home is distracting.” Your hand waved off the statement, finding the packets you wanted, and clutching your cup between your knees for stability. “So, anyway I was going to text you when I got there, but then I saw you, so I figured I’d come and say ‘hey’!”

“Right.”

“So, hey!” You waved a little before taking the top from your coffee, and leaving it on the bench beside yourself. “I ask once again, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“Well, since I am the most popular guy at this college, I’m pretty busy.” He smiled a little at his own joke, particularly when you gave him a laugh, and your brow raised.

“Oh, he’s got jokes today, huh? I like it, I can roll with that.” Tipping the sugar into the cup, you added a couple of packets, before stirring it slowly. “I take it you’re free, then. I was hoping we could squeeze in some study stuff this afternoon. I have a class in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you were free?”

“Well, I’m free all day. I had a six AM class.” His face screwed up at the idea, and you could feel his pain, having spent the entirety of your sophomore year with a teacher who held lectures at six AM so she could avoid her morning sickness before class, and rush home for it afterwards. Professor Anderson going off on her maternity leave was the best thing that had happened to your education that year.

“Great, I’ll sort it with Stiles, and we’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds like a thrill. I can hardly wait.” He smiles, the sarcasm just like his brothers as it came through, and you repaid him for the joke with a chuckle. While the two of you had made progress, you could tell he was still a little unsure around you. You were polar opposites and he didn’t take well to that, the atmosphere that you brought with you could be a little too much for him to handle sometimes, you couldn’t stop the guilt that was eating at you a little. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face like you want to talk about things. Just warning you, I’m not good at that heart-to-heart stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve witnessed that.”

“Shut it.” He teased, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, and you grinned cheesily in reply to him. “You can tell me, though. Can’t promise I’ll help, but..”

“It’s nothing weighing me down. I just wanted to apologise. I clearly interrupted your free time. You got yourself a little pretzel to eat in silence, and everything.” He offers you a blank look at your slight dig, and you only winked, waving the muffin in a bag that you’d bought, and taking a sip of your coffee once the lid was sealed back on. “People usually like it when I stop by to see them, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, really.” His words were strained, the response bringing you no relief as he forced them out, and your frown remained. “I’m serious, okay? It’s alright.”

You were trying your best but learning the lines with Noah was different to you. Upon starting college you’d been thrown in at the deep end of socialisation and a whole world you’d never quite had access to before. Coming from a smaller town that had always limited your expectations was tough, and you’d taken it differently from the way Noah had. You’d had so many experiences, becoming legal to drink and venturing beyond your comfort zone, truly leaving home and facing the idea of having your life laid out before you, the first time truly having your heartbroken, and being too far to simply collapse into the arms of your mom or dad for support when things got messed up.

“When does your class start?” You jumped, lost in your thoughts as you slumped back into the bench, and you sat up straight again, turning to find that Noah was already looking at you, eyes scanning over you slowly. It was a good reminder, time had been slipping away from you and in the ease of his peaceful and quiet company, you could have sat there for hours.

Checking your watch, you sighed, lifting your bag strap back up onto your shoulder more securely, and packing everything you had with you inside, leaving you to hold a coffee cup in each hand. “In about ten minutes.”

“How about I walk you?” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and you nodded, a warmer feeling at his offer blooming where cold guilt had been. Standing up and making sure not to spill any of the scalding coffee onto your hand. Peering around the busy campus quarters that was more filled now than it had been for months, the lighter weather tempting groups to come out of their dormitories and the cafés to gather outside instead.

He fell into step beside you, toes scuffing occasionally on the slightly uneven stonework of the quad, before it fell away into smooth concrete pathways on the way to your lecture. The grass alongside each path was growing greener, dull colour fading away into something brighter. Paper crinkled beside you, the cup of tea in his hands being finished and the cardboard cup was crushed between string fingers, knuckles even paler than usual as he crumpled it up, and as you approach the closest bin, it was disposed of.

Your fingers flexed around your coffee cup, almost having forgotten that it was there as the heat from the two began to fade away a little. Taking a sip, the refreshing burst of sweetened caffeine was like a spark to your system, and you revelled in it. “How do you take your coffee?”

You lower the cup from your lips, swallowing your mouthful, and you couldn't stop the rise of your brows once you turned to look at him. “Creamer, usually. I like a caramel flavoured one. But, since I’m not big on creamer in packets or from street vendors, this one just has sweeteners.”

“Cool.” He nodded, and your lips pressed together tightly to try and contain the smile you wanted to let free, silence forming between you both for a moment, a further gathering of steps as the two of you went on, your building coming into sight again. “Did you watch the news last night?”

“Is this small talk?”

“It’s an attempt at small talk.” He winced, and you chuckled, a small smile on his features as the fear of judgement or humiliation washed away, and he gave a sigh.

“Okay, let's try this.” Your mind spun, searching for a track of something to talk about, and a thought clicked into space. “If you could watch one genre of movies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Comedy. Like, comedy-action. You know, ones like ‘Jumanji’ or something?” He was quick with it, certain about his answer, and you nodded.

“Yeah? That was quick. How come you’re so sure?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, one hand coming up to hold his bag strap, swinging it to the side to be able to get inside, and fish out the paper bag with a pretzel inside. “I guess I just think they’re good for you. Good for the soul. They have action and it keeps you a little on the edge of your seat, but it’s funny. It's easy-going, when you’ve got anxiety, or you’re having a bad day, or you just want background noise, they’re perfect.”

“Alright. Fair enough. Okay, tricky one.” his eyes narrowed a little, but an amused look passed over his features while he waited. “If you had to choose specifically between comedy and action, which is it?”

“It’s got to be action. Because comedy usually means Adam Sandler or Seth Rogen, and some of their comedies are good, but some are jus-” He paused, jaw dropping a little, and his hand came out, pausing in front of your to bring you to a halt too. A smile curled on your lips, and he looked shocked. “Holy shit, you’re good!”

“Ask a basic question that people are passionate about, it always leads to more options, and everyone always wants to talk about something fun.” His head shook slowly, as though he was in disbelief, and you took a dramatic bow, trying not to spill the coffees in your hands as you giggled. “Give it a go, I bet you can do it.”

The paper in his hands crinkled, your footsteps taking up again, and the two of you were making your way towards the building once again. Taking a bite from his pretzel, a piece torn away with his teeth, he thought it over. “Does your family have any secret or ‘famous’ recipes?”

“Oh, that’s a good one. Kudos to you, Noah.”

“Thank you. I thought about it for, like, eight whole seconds.” He grinned, the joke moving away from you both as you left it behind, and you thought about his question.

“Maybe it’s not my family recipe, just a personal one, but I’m great at making lasagne.” He scoffed, and you nudged him with your elbow. “I’m serious! I make a great lasagne!”

“You don’t seem like a cook to me, is all! You seem like the sort of person who’d manage to burn a pit of water.”

“You can’t burn water, an.. oh, I just got it. You jerk.” It was a joke, your nose screwing up as you stuck your tongue out at him, thanking him a second later as he held the door open for him. The bright lights of the outside changed to artificial lights in the halls, not as much coming through the windows as trees outside managed to cast shade into the building. “Well, I can cook. I love to cook, and I’m good at it. Especially lasagne. My family are generally the only ones who have ever had it, and thanks to that insult, you’ll never have it.”

“Oh, woah, no! You have to let me try it now. Prove me wrong, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re bluffing.”

“You’re sneaky.” You scoffed, students filling the hall and filtering in from different sides of the building, lectures in different halls all waiting to take place, and you stepped to the side of the corridor once your doorway was within reach. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m betting on that.”

Glancing back, Stiles was already inside, as expected. Stiles Stilinski had never once been on time, he was either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, and since he’d spent the night with Derek, who was an early bird, you’d figured which one today would be. His head was slumped on his hm half-asleep and on the verge of drooling as he sat there, and you chuckled, turning to Noah. “Thanks for walking me. Also, thanks for small-talking with me.”

“Thanks for the advice on small talk.”

“I’m gonna’ head inside, but, I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, confirming the times with you, and lingering a moment longer. It was quiet, but not so tense, and he rolled on the balls of his fete, the half-eaten pretzel in his hands was seemingly abandoned as one hand tucked into his jeans pockets, the other hanging limply while holding the delicacy by his side.

“Thanks for sitting with me. This wasn’t so bad. It was almost fun.”

“You know, one day, you’re gonna’ tell me you had fun with me. I look forward to that day.” He smirked, your head tipping to the side at the expression.

“If you’re lucky.” He was repeating your own words back to you, and you beamed at the chance. Backing away from him slightly, you fixed him with the cheekiest glance you could as you walked through the doorway.

“I’m betting on it.”

You could hear his laugh once you were gone, into the classroom and beginning to take the steps up to a seat beside Stiles that he’d reserved for you, his bag sitting on it. He’d already gotten his equipment out, notepads and pencil laid out in a somewhat organised mess on top of the desk.

Placing the two coffees down, you moved Stiles bag to the floor, tucking it behind his chair and a soft snore made itself known from him, the boy not doing well with early mornings but he never had, not once in your years of knowing him had he handled it very well, so it was no surprise.

“Opening up your bag, you dropped your notebook down onto the surface with a loud ‘slapping’ sound, and he jerked upwards, flailing as he did, and almost knocking the coffees over. Blinking quickly and shaking sleep away, he looked around, eyes wide as he finally focused on you.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” He chastised you, leaning back in his seat and holding a hand over his heart. “I was dreaming about high school, I thought you were my lacrosse Coach waking me up for falling asleep in class again.”

“Maybe I am.” You winked, slamming a hand down on the counter. “Drop and give me twenty, Stilinski! Right now!”

“Don’t do that, it’s eerily accurate.” He cringed, shuddering a little, before a wide smile replaced the horrified expression that had morphed, and you pushed a coffee over to him. “You brought me a coffee?”

“Yes, I did. It’s bribery.”

“Oh? What am I being bribed for?” He was curious, rooting through the bag of condiments for it and taking the plastic lid from the cup, steam curling out into the air. Taking an ungodly and certainly unhealthy amount of sweetener and sugar packets to load into his coffee.

“Your free time this afternoon. I’m thinking about getting some of my study done, I can get all the work for the next couple of sessions sorted now, but how do you feel about being asked some later?” He tipped them in, a drop of coffee flying up over the edge and landing on the desk as he stirred his drink with vigour, that same hyper excitement that he always had.

“Can’t I just fill them out now?”

“It’d be better if I could get your responses with Noah.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and making a scene of it, but there was a smile that told you he already agreed.

“You should have brought me two coffees, but fine.”

You let out a victorious ‘aha!’, and shook the little brown paper bag that was still sitting on your half of the desk at him. “I also brought you half of a muffin!”

“Only half of a muffin?”

“Well, it was none, but since I didn’t eat it yet and I’d feel bad eating it in front of you, I decided to share it.” You tore it in half, pushing half across the scratched and vandalised wooden surface to him. Crumbs were left along the surface, and Stiles pressed the pad of his finger along them to gather them all up.

“Oh, right. Well, in that case, what I meant was; wow, a full half of a muffin!” He cheered, much more enthusiasm, and you nodded.

“Much better.” At the front of the classroom, your tutor entered, door slamming behind him as he kicked the wedge out from underneath, and his case was placed down on the desk. The room began a hushed quiet, save for the loud slurping of Stiles with his coffee beside you.

“You know,” Your best friend didn’t understand the concept of a whisper, everything he did was more like a dramatic stage whisper on a Broadway show, and a few dirty looks were sent his way. The professor was used to this, a year of experience and advice from previous tutors guiding him to ignore Stiles’ fidgeting and chatter. “You’re going to have to convince Noah to do this.”

Slumping down in your seat a little more, you turned your head to him, nibbling on your half of the muffin. “I already did.”

“What?” This time he was hushed, the man standing at the front near his desk, trying his best to give extra advice to everyone and answer any common questions that he’d been emailed. You’d have to catch the after-class notes in your emails. “When d’you do that?”

“This morning before class. I saw him while getting coffee for you and we walked over.”

Stiles huffed, his brows being pulled together slightly. “Okay. Damn, he was my last free shot at getting the afternoon off.” You grinned, pinching at your friend’s cheek, and he smacked your hand away. “Quit it, I’ve told you not to do that before.”

“In case I pinch your moles off?”

“That's where my power is. My funny is in my moles.” He hissed, only making you laugh more, and you covered your mouth with your hand over his silly superstitions.

“Whatever, freak.”

“Hoe.” He snarked back, and you grinned, punching at his shoulder as best you could from this angle, and he reached up a hand to rub at it. “So, if we’re doing this, I at least want to do it at my place. I’m going out this evening, I gotta’ be ready. Derek’s sisters are coming up to visit.”

“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out his phone and keeping it ducked from view. He was texting his brother, letting him know to be ready, and at what time your class would be ending, giving him a little time to prepare. Opening your book up and flicking to the page you had marked, it was a journal written about the study of the ways that twins raised in different households could grow up similarly, and you were hoping to adopt some of the content for your study.

“So, what’ve you got done so far?”

Stile sighed, flicking open his notebook, and you were shocked by the fact that he was already at the end of it. There were pieces of paper stuck in, a list of book references on one of the tabs down the side of a page, and only a few blank pages left at the back.

“Oh, wow, okay.” You stared at your notebook, barely reaching a quarter of the way through with the notes you’d been making, and it looked like Stiles was ready to start making progress towards a conclusion for his hypothesis. “So, you’ve got a whole lot done, then.”

“Yeah, well, I want to spend as little time in a prison as I possibly can.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the pages crammed full of information as he flicked through to find a blank one. “Plus, I didn’t want to go and interview inmates on my own, so I wait until Derek has free time to go with me, and I get as much done in those sessions as I can.”

“You’re gonna’ be done weeks before I am.” You pouted, your pen twirling at the top corner of a page, drawing a collation of pretty flowers to form a border, and he chuckled.

“I have easier test subjects than you do. They’re already guilty and behind bars, they’re more than happy to open up. You’ve gotta’ deal with Noah.”

“That’s true.” You grinned, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with the other twin that morning. When he was alone, it wasn’t so bad, he talked more and he wasn’t so worried about judgements, but as soon as there was someone else who might hear, he completely closed down.

“Hey, seriously, we have ages left. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”

“I’m just freaking out a little bit, because this is the last hurdle, y’know?” He nodded, and you could see whatever it was he was thinking practically swirling in his eyes, because Stiles’ emotions were open to read like a book.

“It’s terrifying. It’s, like, what the hell are we supposed to do when we finish?”

“I don’t know.” Your head dropped to your hands, fingers soothingly rubbing at your temples. A large hand landed on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. “What I do know, though, is that if I don’t get on with coming up with some more content, I’m never gonna’ finish this study in time.”

“Well, put your headphones on and come up with some questions.”

You did as told, plugging your earbuds in and choosing some classical music that would make it easier to concentrate. Opening one of your survey works back up to the page you’d left off at, your eyes began to flicker over the pages, picking out the useful information. Once you had a list built, you had a foundation to work from, questions to create and organise into groups, different sessions being able to come together.

Beside you, Stiles’ hand never seemed to stop rising, a constant dialogue with your tutor as he checked his work and ironed out any kinks in his study. He was also full of chatter and laughter, getting along with everyone around him and asking about their works, making you turn your music up several times just to be able to concentrate. But, by the end of the session, when Stiles was tugging your earbud out and telling you your class was over, you had a solid three pages worth of questions that had been split up into sessions, and ready to be worked through.

“Pack up and get ready to go. I have plans to get ready for.”

Stiles already had his bag in his arms, notebook tucked inside and pens and pencils put away, two empty coffee cups and a muffin wrapper sitting out, which he quickly gathered up, once his bag was on his shoulder. He was gone, walking past you and down to the waste bin at the front of the hall to dispose of them, his fingers tapping idly on his thigh once he was done.

You gathered your belongings, packing them away and curling the wire of your headphones back up neatly, making sure everything had its correct place in your bag, before following him down and out of the steps.

The halls were filled once again, the two of you navigating through crowds to the outside of the building, and you followed him in his diversion across the pathway, all the way to his car. Some students had already left, spaces beginning to empty out as a bottleneck effect took place at the only entrance and exit to this carpark.

“Where’s your car?” The dirty blue jeep was one of the only ones left in the parking lot, Stiles looking around for your vehicle, and you sighed.

“Don’t get me started on that hunk of junk.” You growled, stomping a foot on the floor as Stiles laughed. Opening the driver’s side door, he hopped up inside of it, legs dangling from the chair. “I’m trying not to use it as much. It splutters when it starts up and I have to try it a whole bunch of times, so the less I use it, the closer to graduation we can get before it eventually taps out.”

“You ever think about just getting it fixed?”

“Oh, big words from the man whose engine is held together with duct tape.” Your hand rubbed over the hood of the car, a slightly dusty layer that made you cringe, and you wiped your hand off on your jacket to stop it.

“Touché.” Stiles only smirked. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to my place. I’ll be waiting for hours if you walk.”

He slammed his car door once his legs were inside, leaning over the centre console to pop open the passenger side door as you rounded the car, and he was sparking up the car before you were even fully inside. Slamming it shut, he was reversing from his spot as you clipped in your safety belt, swinging his car around, and you gripped onto the edge of the door. “Easy there, fast and furious.”

“Oh, relax. Nobody is around.”

“Except for me, and I’d like to live until graduation.” His eyes rolled, hitting the brakes and flicking on the indicators as he was leaving the parking lot, moving out onto the main roads. There weren’t so many other cars, the mid-afternoon meaning the other students were mostly in class, in bed, or eating their lunch. College was a weird time, and while you’d loved it, you couldn't wait to regain some kind of normality. “Can we swing by my place? I need to swap out my books. I don’t want to carry all these around.”

“Okay, but be quick! I have to be ready by six and out the door by six-thirty. Derek will kill me if I’m late for this.” His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as he changed direction to head to your place instead of his own. The space between you both was filled with the radio, the simple tunes of classic 70s anthems, the songs Stiles had grown up with, his dad’s favourite records and he played them constantly. He knew all the words, mouthing along and banging his head, pausing occasionally to check the mirrors and the roads between dancing in his seat.

Rolling the window down as he slowed in his approach to the building, afresh air swept into the carbon of the car, the slightly musty smell of the older car was something you’d miss when it was gone. The shade of the concrete cover overhead was chillier than the sunny roads, and he swung himself haphazardly into a parking space.

“I’ll turn the car around and wait here, cool?”

“I won’t take long, promise!” Hopping from the car and closing the door, you leant on the open door frame, and Stiles slouched in his seat, as he usually did. “Lydia and Ally should both be out, so there’s nobody for me to even talk to.”

“Good, because you’re chatty.” He teased, and you flipped him off, a quick walk as you headed away from him to the stairs. Once you were there, you were taking a quick jog up the sets of stairs, headed for your floor, and balancing your books in your arms carefully. Rooting through your bag to find your keys, they were at the bottom, jingling tantalisingly for you to find.

Leaving your books on the countertop of the kitchen, you shifted through them, taking the notebook you needed and leaving the rest, piling them back up and taking them to your bedroom Abandoned on the desk, you rushed to change, throwing on a bigger and warmer jumper to get through the rest of the day, phone in your pocket and a bag on your arm. Passing back through the kitchen, you were ready to grab the notebook and bag you’d left there, keys hanging in the back of the door, and you eyed the freezer.

You’d made a bet, a point to prove, and you were certain that buried somewhere deep in the bottom, you had a frozen lasagne from the last time you’d made it for Allison and Lydia. You had a few spare moments, and so you moved over to the freezer, opening the door and crouching to scan over all the shelves.

Running your fingers over frozen plastic, you searched for the right one. Tinfoil crinkling in the back, behind a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets and a tray of alcoholic ice cubes, was a tray of lasagne. Pulling it out, the cold chilled your arm, even through the layers of your hoodie, and you used your foot to close the freezer while wrapping the tray in the nearest tea towel for an extra layer.

Placing your notebook over it and holding it in both arms for security, you clicked the latch onto the door, keys in your pocket and bag on your shoulder to let it swing closed behind you.

Stiles saw you coming, his head snapping over to the metal door between the stairwell and the parking lot when it fell open, backing through it and his brows raised. Opening up the passenger side door, he took the lasagne from you when you handed it over, climbing back into the vehicle.

“This is cold. What is it?”

“Lasagne.” You settled it onto your lap once your safety belt was on, folding the towel underneath to keep your lap from getting chilled and painful, and he nodded. The engine was still running, and taking off the brakes, he was pulling out of the space again.

“So, not that I don’t love a home-cooked meal, but I’m going out for dinner. Why the traybake?”

“I have a point to prove to Noah.” You were looking out of the window, but you could feel his gaze on you, making you a little uncomfortable, and you turned to face him. His eyes were flicking between you and the road, brows furrowed, a stare like he was trying to figure you out, before he let it go. “He told me I looked like I couldn't cook, and it’s a battle I’m going to win.”

“Well, alright then. Save me leftovers?”

“We’ll see.” You winked, and he grinned, eyes flicking to the tray in your lap, before back to the road.

It was only a short journey, the distance between your place and Stiles’ building was short for a walk and even shorter in a car, on the edges of campus and conveniently placed, and it had been one of the building blocks of your friendship with him An easily accessible study partner, somewhere to hang out with, someone to walk home with you after a night out, someone to share a cab with, or simply knowing there was a friend so close to you.

“It’s going to be weird not living around the corner from you in just a few months.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed, pulling into his one building sparking area and it didn’t have the luxury of being covered or underground, it was exposed each flat having allocated parking spaces, and Noah’s bike was parked underneath the shelter, you could see it from here, with a clamp around the wheel and covered from the impending and risky weather of the early months. “I have a feeling that you’ll end up living next door to me someday.”

“You do?”

He parked the car, arm behind your head as he reversed into it, ready to make a quick getaway on the next morning, or this evening, when he would invariably be late. In true Stiles Stilinski style. “Yeah. Especially after I rock whatever gown you want me to wear for being your maid of honour, someday.”

“Lydia is going to fight you for that role.”

“I will fistfight her for it.” He challenged, and you grinned, clambering down from the car as Stiles had parked a little too close to someone else on your side. With your bag on your shoulder and lasagne in one hand, you tried to squeeze around the door without scratching someone else’s paintwork.

Stiles’ arm was slung over your shoulder as you set off toward the building, the elevator being fully functional, and it was a refreshing change not need to take the stairs up to your place, or risk your life in a rickety elevator.

Throwing his keys down on the kitchen counter, they slid all the way across and to the other side, hitting the floor, and he grimaced when you turned to stare at him. “I’ll pick those up later.”

“Uh-huh.” The sounds of video games and music were coming from behind Noah’s door, though it wasn’t fully closed, only pushed halfway, and you hoped that was a sign that he was still in a good mood. Leaving your bag on the edge of the couch that was facing away from you, your hands rubbed together, glancing around at the environment you were still getting used to. “You should put this lasagne in now, so that it’s ready for after the study. Medium heat, leave the full-on tight.”

“Where are you going?”

“To say ‘hey’ to your brother.” Stiles’ face scrunched up, a mumble of ‘good luck’ as he picked up the tray, lifting it over his head to look in at it from underneath. Wandering toward the sounds coming from the hall, you knocked on the edge of the door, pushing it open a second later when you heard the game pause, and the music following it. Leaning on the doorframe, Noah turned to face you, brows raising slightly, and he shifted in his chair. “Hey.”

“Hi. It’s, uh, time for the study stuff, then?”

“Yeah. You okay?” He shrugged, turning back to his game and closing it off, leaning forwards from where he was sat on his bed enough to turn the console off.

“I didn’t realise we’d be doing it here. It feels more personal, somehow.” He had a large hoodie on, comfortable in his own clothes as he wore a baggy and warm outfit, the same way you often had when everything started to feel overwhelming.

“Well, this study is going to get pretty personal.”

“I know that. It’s just that right now, it feels a bit like I’m naked, y’know?” You chuckled, a momentary smile on his face flashing past, and you were glad to see it. “I just feel exposed.”

“This study is gonna’ do that, but I promise that I’ll try and make it as easy as I can. I’ll break it up, I’ll make it comfortable for you, and we’ll stop whenever you’re getting overwhelmed.”

“That’d be great, actually.” His hands rubbed together, sleeves hanging slightly down over his palms, and he looked a whole lot less terrifying right now than he did with the armour of a bike and a leather jacket. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good, because I need you in high spirits. I brought a lasagne and I have a point to prove.”

You backed out of the room as he advanced toward you, the door closing and leaving you both standing in the hall, and he smirked down at you a little, a disbelieving expression. “You really brought that?”

“You bet I did. It’ll be ready by the time we finish.”

“Then I guess we’d better get started, huh?” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling in beside his brother, who scowled at him as his drink spilt down his shirt from the impact. Taking a seat on the other side of them both, your legs folded underneath yourself in the armchair, finding a glass of water laid out for yourself on the table, courtesy of Stiles.

They looked so different and yet so similar in this moment. You could understand how people may have confused the two of them before their styles became so radically different. In the beginning, before Noah turned to leather and a sleeve tattoo, when they both wore hoodies and band tees and had clean pale skin. With the sleeve of tattoos covered, and the pair both wearing hoodies, one with an etching across the front and the other with a faded logo from being washed one too many times,

Laying out your books, it was more of a note you’d keep to yourself, and following from that was your recorder, coated in the front pocket of your bag so as not to get crushed. Switching it on at the side, the red light flashed on to green blinking once to let you know it was active. “Can you guys do your confirmations for me while I get set up?”

“Surely can.” Stiles sat forwards, leaning down a little with his forearms braced across his knees, as opposed to Noah, who slumped back into the cushion. “Stiles Stilinski, happy to be recorded.”

“Noah Stilinski, aware of being recorded.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his brother’s dead tone, clearly not having as much fun as Stiles was, but you didn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, why don’t you guys tell me what it’s like to live together at college.” There was a beat of silence, and then a set of matching laughs from both of them, the two starting at one another. There was a look between them, one you didn’t quite understand, and it seemed like some kind of twin-telepathy communication.

“It’s, like, exactly the same as when we were in high school.”

“Uh, what?” Stiles interjected, and Noah turned to look at him. “It’s nothing like high school!”

“Yes, it is!” Noah insisted, and you smirked, picking up your water and taking a sip as the two stared in shock at one another. “We lived together in high school, we played video games, I did all the cooking and you did all the cleaning while dad was at work. The only thing that is different is that we can’t cheat from one another’s homework anymore.”

“We don’t drive to school together anymore, we’re on opposite sides of campus!”

“That so doesn’t count.” Noah scoffed, and Stiles twisted on the couch, his hand gestures much more emphasised than that of his brother’s and you watched the debate go down. “You can’t name any more than that.”

“I take that as a challenge.” Stiles’ head rolled side to side. “Our schedules don’t match up anymore, and we haven’t had our usual movie nights in almost six months now. I can’t bring Derek over because your room is right across from mine-”

“My room was across the hall from you at home. You just didn’t date in high school or have anyone to bring home.”

“Low-blow. Unlike some people, I didn’t want to traumatise my brother in high school by bringing someone home, for that.” Stiles reached out mid-sentence, swatting at his brother’s shoulder, before continuing; “Uh, let's see. Oh! We don’t talk anymore, you didn’t ride your motorbike so much at home, you used to ride in the jeep with me. It’s like a totally different world now.”

“I didn’t know you felt like that.” There was a palpable kind of feeling in the air, something between them that was sizzling with electricity, before Stiles sighed.

“It’s no big deal. The difference is just that we’re both so busy now.”

“That was really good, actually. Thanks.” The two seemed to have forgotten you were there, both flinching and turning to face you again, matching sets of honey-coloured eyes in varying shades were fixing on you again. “Speaking of what you said, though, does it ever make it hard for you guys when your class times are so different?”

“Hard to do what?” Stiles squinted at you, face set in a frown that his twin normally wore.

“Hard to hang out, talk, have that whole brotherly bond going on.” Your clarification did little for Stiles, his brows still pulled tight and frown never moving, but Noah’s face smoothed out.

“Oh.. well, I g-”

“Totally.” Noah pressed, and once again, Stiles’ head whipped around to look at his brother. “Don’t look at me like that. You basically said it, anyway. We don’t talk so much anymore. We barely know each other. You don’t even tell me about your podcast, anymore.”

“You never listened!”

“You used to tell me your problems, not broadcast them to the world with jokes and humour! I missed two episodes, and you just stopped keeping me updated on it.” The moodier twin crossed his arms over his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the environment you had unwittingly created. “I don’t know. Just feels like we used to talk a lot more.”

They both went silent, and Noah shot you a pleading look, but there was something darker behind it. It almost felt venomous, angry or defensive, as though to say ‘I told you so’ about it being more personal now that they were home. Stiles was occupying himself with pulling a loose thread on their couch cushion out and making it that much worse, distracting himself from it all. “Well, how about something a little bit lighter. Just some questions about hobbies. Stiles, what inspired you to first start a podcast?”

“Well, as you know, I never stop talking.” He smirked, Noah laughing beside him, and just like that, the awkward air between them both was completely evaporated. “I had a lot to say, I had a lot to get off of my mind. At first, it was just to get my thoughts out there. It was kind of like a recorded journey for myself, and to share with my friends from back home. But, then other people started listening. I thought it was going to be the end of my college social life, a social life that I was developing for the first time ever, and they liked it. I was just talking into a mic and getting things off of my chest, making no sense while telling stories and bitching about my homework and suddenly I had friends. It got a whole lot of followers and I made new friends,”

He paused, offering you a wink for the comment, and you beamed.

“-and I was going to parties, I met my boyfriend at a pep rally, and everything just kinda.. blossomed. The more I got out of it, the more inspired I was to keep going. I ended up making multiple videos a week, all differently themed. Sometimes movie reviews, sometimes songs, sometimes just talking. That’s how ‘Mischief Mic’ was born.”

“Alright. That was awesome.” Stiles bowed as best he could from sitting on the couch, and reached over to take a sip of his drink. “Okay, Noah, have you got any hobbies that you didn’t have in high school that you found when you came to college.”

“Not really.”

“Not even one?” You pushed, and the arms folded over his chest tightened, his gaze going to the floor, socked toes pushing into the twist cable rug. He took his glass, swigging all of it, the water draining from the glass in nervousness, and you could hear the crickets inside your mind chirping to fill the silence that had formed.

“No. Not really. I’m going to get more water, feel free to continue.”

“Uh, okay.” You pressed your pen down into your paper, drawing a line through the question on your paper as you realised you’d have no answer to that question when you listened back on the tape at a later time. “Stiles, back to you, then.”

Your next question came, and went, and Stiles was more than happy to answer them. Occasionally, Noah would answer a question, you’d be able to pin him down long enough to get a straight answer out of him, but there seemed to always be something that he needed to mess with, or fix. Almost half of your questions for him had a line drawn through, and you would have to ask them another time, and get a whole extra session in without Stiles, dragging the study out.

It was going to take you twice as long to get through it all if every time you had to ask them separately, and had to spend your time trying to force him to sit and answer. You were missing half of the information that you needed to be able to compare to Stiles’ answers, you couldn’t answer without them.

The clock ticked by, leaving you with all of your questions for Stiles answered. On a blank page, while Noah had once again been tinkering with something in the kitchen, you’d rewritten up all over the crossed out questions that would still need answers. You had doodled on the corner again, waiting for him to come and sit back down, a collection of hearts and flowers, the occasional bee or ladybug, even a couple of misshaped stars, forming a banner across the top of the page.

When he finally came to sit back down, he huffed, eyes moving to the clock as though he was waiting for this to end just as much as Stiles was, and you gave up.

“Okay, how about we just finish this up?” You had reached the end of your tether, not even bothering with the rest of the questions that were written down for him. “We got almost two hours in, that’s perfect.”

Noah sighed, something like an apology in his look as your eyes met his and he shrugged lightly. Stiles only nodded, eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall, and he was grinning when he came back. Tearing a page out of your notebook for each of them, you passed it over, blank paper sitting before them, and you searched for a pen or pencil in the bottom of your bag for each of them. Placing your pen down before Stiles and a pencil in front of Noah, they both leaned forwards, picking them up. Switching off your recorder and packing it away, you were left with the two staring at you expectantly.

“Okay, Stiles, come fill yours out in the kitchen. You can’t discuss these ones.”

“Oh, some mystery. I like that.” He picked up his paper and pencil, heading over to the kitchen counter, folding the sheet in half as he did, and you nodded. Standing from your place behind the coffee table, your bag slumped a little more from where it had been propped against your leg.

“Okay, I want you both to try self-diagnosing yourself.” Stiles gasped, a little excitement lacing it, and his pencil was already moving over the paper. Noah, however, looked a little lost, looking to you for guidance. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to use professional terms, just, describe what you think, I’ll be able to figure it out, and if I can’t, I’ll ask you about it at some point.”

He nodded, pausing, not quite as eager to get into the activity as Stiles was, before the pencil finally met the paper, and the slow scratching of graphite over paper filled the silence.

Moving away to the kitchen, you searched for plates, and a dish, laying them out on the counter before moving to the oven. A wave of hot air into your face once you pulled the door open, and when it cleared, you search for the kitchen towel you’d brought with you. Wrapping it carefully around the edges of the tray inside, you pulled it out, resting it atop the oven and closing the door back up.

Flicking off the handles, the light inside went dead, and Stiles loomed up behind you. “Smells good!” He presented a piece of paper to you, your eyes flicking over what he’d written once you’d taken it from him, and everything that he’d written about himself seemed completely accurate. It wasn’t a surprising self-evaluation, Stiles had spent almost four years studying this, just like you had, and so it was bound to be accurate and professional. Even if his handwriting looked a little bit like chicken-scratch.

Noah was still working on his, and Stiles was picking at the edges of the tinfoil, trying not to touch the glass of the casserole dish and burn himself, and as soon as he had some foil pinched between his fingers, he was pulling it back. “Wait, Stiles, watch out for the-”

“Fucking steam! Oh, my God, that’s so fucking hot!”

His hand snapped back, half unpeeled as all the steam from inside clouded in the air, and his hand was clutched to his chest. He was glaring at the pot, before moving away and running his hands underneath the cold tap at the sink, his thumb rubbing over wet skin to soothe it.

A second later, Noah was appearing, placing his paper face down on top of Stiles, which now lay on the kitchen counter. “Well, now that I’ve been scalded by pasta, I’m going to go shower and get ready.”

“M’kay.” He backed away, and Noah leaned on the counter beside you.

“Looks good, but does it taste any good, is the question.” The twin you were left with was teasing you, your eyes finding him, and you raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get me something to serve it up with, alright?”

He smirked, pulling open the drawer behind him and searching for a serving spoon. Slicing it into pieces, you dished it up for him, a large slab on a plate, still steaming with cheese that had only just stopped bubbling. He grabbed a fork, and one for you too, waiting patiently as you served yourself, and put whatever was left into a dish for Stiles, covering it back up and leaving it to cool.

“Okay, prepare for the best lasagne of your life.”

Picking up the papers and your plate, the two of you moved back to the couch, sitting opposite one another, and you waited with excitement. Taking a piece off of his plate with the edge of his fork, he raised it, blowing cold air over it for a few moments, before taking the bite. There was a tense few moments, while he chewed, face unreadable, before he was swallowing the mouthful.

“Well?”

You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, a smile on his face at the desperation you showed for his answer, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. This may actually be the best lasagne I have ever had.”

“Yes!” Your hands went up in the air, cheering excitedly and he laughed at your reaction, holding his hand up when you forced him to, palms slamming together in a high-five. He was tucking in again, and you reached for your plate, excited for the meal you had made, Taking a large piece on the tip of your fork, you tucked in.

The sound of Stiles’ shower was running in the background, and he was singing loudly, a song that you were certain was a TV show intro but you’d never seen the show, and there was a chance it was something from Disney Channel. Picking up the pieces of paper again, you turned Noah’s around to face you.

You’d had an expectation, you knew what you thought he was going to write down, and yet you were somehow surprised and entirely not surprised at the same time. It was what you expected but with a twist. He had confidence in what he’d written about himself he was sure of it, and while there were definitely elements that you’d disagree with, there was a lot of truth to it, and you frowned, reading it again.

Noah was watching you do so, the scrape of forks over plates as the lull in chatter came back, and you place the two pieces of paper into the front of your notebook, making sure that it was all sealed tightly away. “Is it alright?”

“It’s just not what I expected from you. But, it’s perfect.”

“That feels like a backhanded compliment.” He smiled softly, but he looked nervous, and you shook your head.

“Not at all, it just means that you have a better grasp on this whole thing than I thought you did.” It was the truth, and while you didn’t want to reveal so much to him about it all without compromising your work, but it made sense. “It just feels like with the way today went, like you weren’t really so interested in it, so I didn’t expect such an accurate self-diagnosis from you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pushing what was left of his food around the plate, and you copied him, appetite dwindling. “It’s just that when you’re here, in my apartment, and you’re asking questions about what changed and making me confront everything, it feels like real therapy. You said it was going to be casual, and this didn’t feel casual.”

“I get it. I really do, and it’s okay. I can just email you the questions you didn’t answer, and you can get around to them whenever you feel up to it, alright?” He nodded, shaking off the evening’s stress. He continued to eat, polishing off the meal that was laid out before him and settling his hands over his stomach once he was finished. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and your empty plate was soon stacking on top of his own. Leaning forwards a little, you caught Noah’s eye, and one of his brows arched up. “I can try to make it more informal, in the future.”

“That would be great, actually.”

You smiled, the consolidation made between the two of you, and your ears picked up on another sound. “Hold on, is Stiles blow-drying his hair?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, head turning to the closed bathroom door where his brother resided. “He thinks it makes his hair fluffy.”

“He gels his hair, though! Why does it matter if it’s fluffy?”

“He’s insane. Don’t you know this, yet?” Noah scoffed, and your giggles carried you back into the rest of the chair as you settled back into it. The evening was still waiting to come in fully. Comfortable quiet fell between you both again, and Noah moved away to take the plates to the kitchen. He left them in the sink, water running to wash them up, before storing Stiles’ lasagne in the fridge.

The aforementioned boy moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, skidding on the floors a little and clutching the towel to his waist as he hurried, making himself late with the extra-long shower and the blowdrying of his hair. Noah was washing up the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining rack, and you took that as your cue. The night was over, that much was clear, and you’d be willing to bet that he was more than eager to get back to his alone time.

Taking your bag and double-checking that you had everything, you swung it up onto your shoulder, and made your way toward the door. Hearing the shuffling of your feet, Noah turned, drying his hands on the towel beside him. “Are you going?”

“Feels like I should. Stiles will be going soon, anyway. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”

“I don’t have anything to do, if I’m being honest.” He cringed at his own words, pulling down the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie and making his way over to you. Undoing the catch on the door, he pulled it open, leaning against it and you linseed in the doorway.

“Since you’re not doing anything, do you wanna’ get a coffee with me?”

His eyes narrowed, just for a second, and his fingers tapped anxiously on the wood of the door. “As a study subject, or..?”

“As friends.” You confirmed, his lips a thin line for only a second, before pulling up at the sides in a smile.

“Then, yeah. I’d like that.” He looked down, sweatpants and mismatching socks on his lower half, and there was a tint on his cheeks when he looked up. “Just give me two seconds to go change, alright?”

He darted away before you had a chance to reply leaving you there with the words frozen in your throat. Stiles was clattering around behind his own door, and Noah’s door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the doorway. Your hands tapped against your thighs as you waited, bag swinging on your shoulder, and only a second later, one of the doors was opening.

To your surprise, it was Stiles, flapping the flannel on his body to shake out any creases, and he stood before you. Doing a little twirl from where he stood, he began to button it up down his front, looking somewhat smart. It was a nice black and white one, no rips or tears or stains like most of his other ones, and the black stood out prominently against the white, thick patterns with flecks of grey within it.

“How do I look, then?”

“You look great, Sti. I’ve never seen you wear anything so plain before. There’s no colour.”

“Yeah, well, this is a new flannel. It’s my best one, and the skinny jeans are Noah’s. All my skinny jeans are blue or red, it was this or khakis.” He was nervous, resisting the urge to mess with his freshly-styled hair. “The place we’re going to is kinda fancy, but I don’t feel fancy enough for it. I’m gonna’ do something stupid like drop my glass and smash it or make a joke about something dumb.”

“Haven’t you met his family before?” You teased, and he huffed, searching for his keys, and finding them under the counter where he’d never bothered to pick them up from.

“No, not really. I’ve met his mom because she comes to visit a lot, and of course, his little sister, because she’s a sophomore here. But, he has a lot of family. His extended family are coming to graduation, but this is his older sister and his dad, and his uncle, and I’ve never met them before.” His keys were tucked into his back pocket, and his phone followed, your gaze moving over him.

“You got a blazer, Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah. One that my dad made me promise to bring, I wore it to my senior prom.” He shrugged, hands smoothing over his front. “You think I should wear it?”

“Go get it, show me.” He nodded, moving back to his bedroom, and you were waiting for something with orange and blue stripes to come back out, which wouldn’t surprise you. In fact, you’d always imagined Stiles going to his senior prom in a Beetlejuice suit. Noah emerged from the other side of the hall, hangers scraping over their post in a wardrobe as Stiles searched for them. “Did Stiles go to prom in a Beetlejuice suit?”

Noah paused, rolling the edges of his hoodie up, charcoal grey skinny jeans that were only a few shades lighter than the ones Stiles had stolen from him on his legs, and a pair of his usual scuffled boots. “What?”

He was laughing, loudly, shaking his head to hide his grin. “It’s a legitimate question! I have this mental image of it!”

“Unfortunately, he did not. My dad made us both go in three-piece formal suits. He saved up to have them custom made. Said that every man should have a smart suit.” He shrugged, crouching to start tying the laces on his shoes and Stiles reappeared. Over his shoulders was a dark black suit, crisp collar and pressed edges, and it was a beautiful piece of tailoring.

“You look good, Sti. Very smart, but casual. Like a polished version of your usual self.”

“Yeah? Good enough to meet Derek’s family?” His voice shook, and you wished you could ease him more.

“Totally. You look great.” He thanked you both, and Noah grabbed his wallet from the side, and his house keys, letting them both hang in the front pocket of an oversized hoodie.

“You ready to go?” He offered, hand on the top of the door, and Stiles’ head snapped up again from where he’d been checking his phone, presumably looking for texts from Derek.

“Where are you two going?”

“We’re getting coffee!” You beamed, and Noah nodded, stepping a little further out of the door with you.

“Oh, well, have fun. I’ll text you updates about how it goes. I might need bathroom-break pep-talk during the night.” You waved to him as you went, wishing him ‘good luck’, before the two of you were wandering down the halls. Thumbing the button for the elevator, the doors popped open, and you were stepping inside along with Noah.

“So, you wanna’ show off those new small talk skills to me, then?”

“Okay, okay. Let me think of something.” He hummed under his breath, glancing up to the top of the elevator and looking around at the posters on the walls for inspiration, and he seemed to find one. Turning his attention quickly back to you, you prepared for what he’d found. “Have you listened to any of the student bands? There’s been a lot of them growing, lately.”

“I’ve noticed that, actually.” There were several posters up around the inside of the elevator, different coloured flyers, some on shiny paper and some on smooth matte, varying fonts and designs, it was dizzying. “I haven’t, I’ve never been to see a student band. I should do that before I graduate, though. Have you?”

“I’ve been to a couple.” The door clicked open, the two of you stepping through it. Out into the setting chill of the evening that was threatening to break its way in. He chose the direction you’d be going in, heading toward the coffee shop on the side of campus that had been the first the two of you had met at when beginning the study. “Some of them are good, some of them are kinda’ average. They usually play at the bars on the edges of campus or in the places in the city, the less well-known, kinda’ alternative places. They can be fun.”

“You going out optionally to a night on the town? I’m shocked.”

“Uh, no!” He protested, grinning at you. “I’ve never been for a ‘night on the town’, and I never will. However, going to one of the few small bars around here that aren’t practically a nightclub, to listen to covers of good songs and get a pint without worrying about anyone bothering me or mistaking me for my brother, that’s nice.”

“Okay, well, maybe I’ll go to one sometime.”

“You should, I think you’d have fun.” The two of you weaved between other students, the small talk keeping up between you both as he did his best, and while it was sometimes a little stuttered and stalled, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. It wasn’t until the two of you had entered the coffee shop that he fell into tight silence again. The crowds, the rush of chatter from other groups gathered around the tables, and the friendly greetings of baristas whose chit-chat diverted to him due to his allegiance with you.

“What are you drinking? My treat.”

“Uh, just a black coffee.” He choked out, eyes flicking over all the boards, so many options up there, and you chuckled.

“Really, just a black coffee?”

“I’ve never really experimented. I just ordered whatever was the quickest and the easiest.” He confessed, already glancing back over his shoulder at the queue that was forming behind you both. “What would you recommend?”

“Hm, well, do you have a sweet tooth?” He only nodded, scratching around his cuticles on one hand and staring down at the flesh growing red, and you took his hand. Lowering it back down to his side, the hand formed a fist, flexed nervously, and you let it go, squeezing comfortingly first. Turning to the barista, she was still waiting patiently, and your eyes moved over the boards overhead. “Two mint and dark chocolate hot cocoas.”

“That sounds really good, actually.” He leaned down, mumbling the words into your ear to make sure you heard the quiet tone over the talk in the small coffee house.

“And, two croissants, too.” She rang it up on the machine, and you leaned in a little closer to her. “Do you have any of the warm and fresh ones straight from the oven?”

“We made a fresh batch about twenty minutes ago, they’re cooling. I’ll get them from the back for you.” She finished it with a wink, passing the card machine over to you once you’d produced your card from your wallet. Swiping it across the reader, you moved to the end of the line, and she moved away to begin preparing your order as someone else took over at the counter.

She was working, creating two beautifully constructed hot chocolates for you both. Placing them down on the counter before you, once they were garnished with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she disappeared into the back room. Taking one of the ceramic plates with her, you were happy to see her bypass the glass cabinet with the older ones in, and only a moment later, she was coming back. Two fresh croissants on a plate, still warm and soft to the touch, and she handed those over as well.

Noah had been scouting for a place to sit, choosing which was the best one, and he carried both of the drinks while you carried the pastries, guiding you to the seat he’d chosen. It was tucked away in the back, a small loveseat sofa with a low sitting coffee table in front of it, and as soon as the paper cups were down on the surface of the table, he was dropping down into the seat.

“It feels like rush hour on the highway, but with coffee.” He mumbled, and you settled onto the couch beside him passing him his drink over, and he stared at it curiously. “What about the whipped cream. Do I eat that first? Scrape it off? Mix it in?”

“Any of the above.” You grinned, taking a wooden stirrer from the condiments tray in the middle and beginning to stir the cream into your hot chocolate. He placed it down, copying your actions, stirring slowly and trying not to spill any over the edges, but it was an impossible feat to achieve. Sticky droplets left over the edges of your cups and his, creating rings on the table that you had to mop up with tissues. “Okay, try it. This is one of my favourite orders here. It’s bitter because of the dark chocolate, but also sweet. Reminds me of you.”

“Now, that one is a backhanded compliment.” He muttered, taking a sip of the drink, and your lips rubbed together.

“Not everything is a backhanded statement, you know. I didn’t intend for it to be mean, it’s just the truth. You’re all dark and moody, but I can already tell you’re sweet on the inside.” You sipped your drink to finish your statement, and he filled the time where he didn’t know what else to say by pulling a chunk off of his croissant. Chewing on it idly, he settled back into the cushions, and you lifted your legs up to fold underneath yourself as you turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve already asked me a lot of questions today.”

“You didn’t answer many, though. You kinda’ have to give me this one.” He scowled falsely, but nodded, licking a flake of pastry from his lower lip. “Not that I think you need it, because personally, I think you’re just fine, but why are you so scared about therapy? The idea of it, anything to do with it, it makes you so closed off. Even more than usual.”

His eyes moved over the room, nervously, before scanning both you and the table, and you put your drink down, holding open palms up to him.

“No recorder, no study. I’m just curious.”

“Okay.” He sighed shakily, and slumped back. “Well, after my mom died, my dad made me and Stiles have therapy when we started acting out. We had a therapist who came to the house, and she was great, don’t get me wrong, but I hated it. I didn’t want her to tell me how to grieve or mourn, and I didn’t want her to tell me how to move on. Stiles needed all the advice he could get, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to do it my own way. Now, the idea of therapy, brings back all those feelings of sadness and pressure and stress.”

“I’m sorry, Noah.” You reached out, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, and his gaze fell to the contact. “Genuine sympathy and sorrow, not just that thing girls do that you hate.”

“Stop hanging things I’ve said over me, I don’t remember half of them. I blackout in social situations.” He grinned, moving past the moment, and you withdrew your touch.

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I understand the nervousness of being in a study.”

“Yeah?” He picked up the rest of his croissant, a large chunk of it being eaten, as he waited for you.

“Yeah. When I moved here, I was so nervous. I was beginning to take my course and I didn’t really have any friends, and there was a senior who needed freshmen for her study.” Noah grinned, settling in for the story and sipping his drink. “She was doing a study about the difference between kids who travelled far from home for college alone as opposed to those who were still close to home, and whether it impacted social clubs, grades, all that. To be fair, it was an awesome study.”

“It sounds like it.”

You smiled, swirling the cup in your hands to gather any loose powder that may have begun to separate and gather at the bottom. “Well, I got drawn into it. She was a senior, and she was nice. I had no friends yet, I was in a flat-share with Allison and Lydia and three other girls who were all too busy getting adjusted to college themselves. So, this senior, she invited me to a party, and then another one, and suddenly people started wanting to be my friend because I was the freshman who hung out with seniors. I figured it would all drop away when her study ended and she didn’t need me anymore, but by then the whole social hierarchy had done its thing, and there I was.”

You shrugged, and Noah was hiding a shit-eating grin behind his mug. “So, you were just a little freshman lab rat, then?”

You scoffed, your laughter mixing with his, and the two of you were left in subtle amusement. His laughter was cut short, though, brought a rapid halt when a set of legs bumped against your table on the other side, followed by two more behind them.

“Hey, girl!” One of the girls on the cheer team, a lacrosse player behind her and a girl who you recognised from your psychology class texting on her phone. “Saw you over here, wanted to know what your plans for the evening were. We’re going to do some karaoke and get some food, you wanna’ come?”

Your eyes moved to Noah, whose attention was fixed on the floor again, as though the splintering wood was of utmost interest. “Maybe another time. I think we’re good here for now.”

“Oh, you sure? I think it could be super fun, you should both come.” The invitation was now extended to you both, and you shook your head at her despite it.

“Seriously, you should go, if you want to,” Noah whispered, and when you turned back to him now, he’d dared to look up, chewing on a lower lip that would go raw, but he met your gaze.

“No, I’m sure. I’m having fun here.” You held his gaze for a second longer, before turning to her, and confirming your denial, and she smiled, promising to make plans with you soon, before she was walking away. Noah was fidgeting beside you, shuffling in his seat, and you could practically feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. “I’m serious, Noah. I’m having fun, and I’m perfectly happy here with you, right now.”

He was trying not to grin, a smile that was being bitten back on the inside of his cheek. “Well, for the record, I’m having fun too.”

“What was that?” You cupped your ear, challenging him to repeat it, even though you had heard it perfectly, and by the look on his face, he knew the game you were playing.

“I said I’m having fun. I won’t deny it.”

“Two victories in one day, for this gal. I’m breaking down all your walls, Noah Stilinski.” You poked at his cheek, and he swatted your hand away, taking a bite from your croissant as punishment, and you tried to snatch it back from him.

“Two victories, one loss. You’re not getting this croissant back, now.”

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rkived · 3 years

Text

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 04 │ JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) angst as per usual what’s new, jk is sad, reader is sad, sunhi is sad, everyone’s just SAD

↳ RATING: (for this chapter) PG

↳ WORD COUNT: 4k

↳ SYNOPSIS: Jungkook’s been feeling a little weird lately. Maybe it’s got something to do with his crumbling marriage and the way you seem to care for his daughter more than his own wife.

↳ A/N: ehem let’s pretend like i didn’t ghost this story for like half a year aha i’ve written more than this for cp but i decided to just divide it and leave the juicy stuff for the last chapter !! sorry for making u wait so long </3 anyway hope u enjoy still n i’ll see u in a couple months for the final chapter of cp!! (i’m jking…..or am i?)

01 02 03 04 05 (coming soon)

Minji thinks you’re starting to get better.

Well, she hopes you are because it’s been two months since you broke the news on her and anyone would think that’d it be long forgotten by now. She tries to stop as often as she can to check up on you, even though you assure her that you’re fine and that a simple text would suffice instead of having her come over every day in between.

Which is why she’s unsure if giving you the invitation Jungkook had handed her about two weeks ago was a good idea, considering that it’s been a few days since you had last even mentioned him to her like you usually did before. In fact, today you look like you’re at peace for the very first time.

‘‘I did yoga!’’ You explain when she mentions that you look different, ‘‘I still can’t face going back to Namjoon’s class, but I remember a ton of positions he taught us!’’

Minji has to force herself to smile, her hand lingers inside the purse she’s carrying as her fingers fiddle with the cardstock paper waiting patiently to be handed.

‘‘And then I stopped for some yogurt at the place down the─’’

‘‘I need to give this to you,’’ Minji stops your ramble and you’re taken aback by how urgent her voice sounds, very unlike her. ‘‘I promised I’d get this to you, so…’’

You’re about to ask her what she’s on about when she abruptly hands what you could make out to be a colorful piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight, completely confused until it suddenly hit you what it is that your friend’s talking about.

‘‘How did you─?’’

Minji gives you half a smile and shakes her hand so you can take the card instead of just staring at it, ‘‘Just─take it.’’

Your hand reaches out to grab it from her and your eyes quickly focus on the unicorn and sparkles themed birthday invite. It reads that it’s Sunhi’s birthday and that you are invited! You recognize the handwriting that filled the party’s information details, you always thought he had really nice penmanship.

‘‘I think you should go,’’ Minji’s voice sounds like she’s faraway, but she’s just a few feet away from you, ‘‘for Sunhi.’’

You’re still staring at the invitation, memorizing every single detail. There’s so many unicorns, when did she start liking the mythical creature? She had never mentioned a liking towards them to you ever. You assume it must’ve happened during these few months of your absence.

How many moments have you missed? How many unanswered questions must Sunhi have by now? How many new toys has she had to wait to show you? How many kindergarten stories has she been saving to tell you?

You’ve been counting. Sixty days have passed since you last saw Sunhi. It’s been seven Fridays since you last had her in your arms.

Sixty days and seven Fridays since you kissed Jungkook. Fifty-nine days since you blocked him.

Minji is still waiting for any sort of reaction from you. You’re stoically analyzing the piece of paper and she wonders what is it that you’re thinking or feeling. Is it good, bad or all in one? Whatever it is, her small deed is done.

‘‘Y/N?’’ She calls out, you slowly nod and take your eyes from the invitation from the first time since she gave it to you. ‘‘Do you mind if I go? I have some stuff to─’’

A small gasp escapes your lips, ‘‘Yes Minji, of course!’’ Your friend smiles slightly and you proceed to escort her out your apartment. She actually doesn’t have anything to do, but she thinks it’s best if you get some space to take everything in.

Minji notices how you’re still holding on to the birthday invite and she has to suppress a chuckle because she knows you’re most likely doing this absentmindedly.

Before you’re able to thank her for coming, she stops you to say one last thing. ‘‘If you don’t want to go, then don’t,’’ she begins and your eyebrows raise at your friend’s comment. ‘‘Whatever it is that you decide on doing, I’ll support you either way,’’ Minji offers you a genuine smile and you can’t help but hug her tightly.

You’re alone again. Loneliness has come in waves as of lately. You’ve lived alone for years now, you’re used to being the only person present in your apartment ─ but that fact hasn’t felt more obvious than since you shunned Jungkook out.

Good days eventually turn sour. The times where it seems like you can go on about your life without thinking about him and what he might be up to quickly change because your mind makes you feel bad about feeling good.

Why did you cut him off knowing his daughter idolizes you like no other? Why did you selfishly decide to block him when you could’ve just talked it out? Why didn’t you stop him that night if you knew things would change between you two? Why did you let him kiss you knowing it was going to hurt in the end?

You know Sunhi’s fourth birthday is coming up. It’s one of those dates you can’t simply forget, it comes naturally to you. You had settled with the idea that you weren’t going to be invited this time around, it would’ve been okay since you think it’s what you deserve anyway. If Jungkook had taken you off the guest list, he was in his total right to do so.

You want to be mad at him right now.

Why would he invite you? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? You wish you were angry, but you’re not. You feel slightly comforted with the fact that he had decided to include you even with everything that went down. In fact, not inviting you would’ve been selfish knowing that Sunhi must want you there.

And if the invitation wasn’t enough of a sign that you should go, two days ago you got an email that the gift you had preordered for Sunhi some time ago was on its way to your place. Just in time for her birthday party.

That’s life for you.

You’re quick to remind yourself of Minji’s last words to you. You’re not obligated to go and if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. But you’d be lying if you said that because you really want to go, but there’s still some things that are holding you back. Your brain starts breaking down the pros and cons of going.

The pros: You’d get to see Sunhi again, who you missed terribly and a tiny part of you was wishing that she didn’t hate you for suddenly leaving. It’s too much to ask for, but you do hope that Jungkook had come up with something instead of telling her upfront that you had left.

The cons: You’d have to see Jungkook. Having to face the awkwardness of knowing you had blocked his number, prohibiting him from contacting you and discussing what happened like adults would do.

Oh, and you’d see Jiwoo too and pretend like you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her husband.

Whatever decision it is, you’d only have two days to decide.

Jungkook smiled warmly as he looked at Sunhi twirling in her green and purple dress in front of the long length mirror in his bedroom. Ever since he got the garment in the mail, he had to hide it from her curious hands because if it were up to her she’d be wearing it day and night.

‘‘Daddy, I look so cute!’’ Sunhi said with an excited tone, hopping in her place. The tull of her skirt followed her movements, making the glittery details sparkle brightly caused by the natural sunlight slipping through the curtain cracks.

He chuckled, ‘‘You do, Pumpkin, but you need to settle down.’’ Jungkook placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, making his daughter’s bouncing cease. ‘‘You gotta be fully energized for the party, alright?’’ She nodded quickly, but he could still feel the excitement radiate from her.

‘‘Gramma will do my braid, daddy.’’ Sunhi let him know once she noticed her father take a brush in his hand. The little girl much rather have her hair tangled in knots than having him attempt to do any sort of hairstyles on her.

Jungkook pouts, but nods understanding. He’s thankful that his parents had made the trip from Busan this year. He knows his mother knew he would have a hard time setting everything up by himself this time around. His parents would normally miss Sunhi’s parties due to the distance, but he’d make it up to them by visiting the following weekend and doing a smaller gathering at their house instead.

Things feel different. One could say that this time, everything is exactly where it should be. Sunhi’s growing older, his parents are here and not far away like usual, Jiwoo’s no longer in the picture, he’s picking back up the things that used to make him happy. There’s just a missing piece that doesn’t allow him to declare the puzzle’s finished.

And his daughter hasn’t really been helpful in allowing him to forget about it either.

‘‘Daddy, is Auntie Y/N going to come?’’ She asked for what seemed the thousandth time that week alone. The younger girl only wanted to make sure you’re coming even though her father had reassured her that you might be making an appearance.

Jungkook hummed, pursing his lips together, ‘‘Well, I don’t know if Auntie Y/N will manage to catch her flight in time for your party, but hopefully she’ll come,’’ he painfully lied and Sunhi nodded with a pout, she was hoping she’d get a different answer this time around, but still settles with her father’s explanation.

Ever since you left, it had been part of her daily routine to ask about you and your whereabouts. Jungkook hated lying to his daughter, but he knew that even if he were to explain the ending of your friendship, she wouldn’t be able to understand. He had foolishly hoped that after telling her, repeatedly, that you had been out of the country because of your job, Sunhi would get the clue that you showing up at her birthday party was very unlikely.

He can’t blame her because he’s also been hoping that you’ll show up for whatever reason. Jungkook’s aware that Minji had made no promises of you attending, but that little bit of faith he still had, clung onto you tightly.

He’s let go of so many things recently, but he refuses to add you to that painful list.

‘‘I miss Auntie Y/N,’’ Sunhi mumbled to herself, but Jungkook heard her clearly and his heart shattered at the longing in his daughter’s voice.

That’s why he’s relieved that she’s now running around the yard with her friends from the kindergarten she attends, screaming in glee as they all chase each other around the grass. The PinkFong playlist he had put together earlier that week has been a hit with the children, who danced and sang along to the lyrics; although some parents might’ve gotten tired of hearing the infantile music after a while. Jungkook himself is part of the people who much rather listen to something else, but it’s worth it if it means he catches Sunhi humming along to the tunes every once in a while.

Having to entertain the parents has taken his mind off of knowing you’re not there. The party started two hours ago and you’re never late for anything, especially his daughter’s birthday celebrations. He’s settling with the idea that you’re no longer coming while he dabbles in serving food and refilling drinks, all the while having to make conversation with the parents of the invited kids.

He can feel just how bad they feel for him, the word’s gotten around the PTA committee that he’s in the process of divorcing while taking full custody of his daughter.

‘‘Jungkook, how are you doing?’’ One of the invited moms asked him with a tactful tone, accompanied by a gentle smile that made him feel like a child for a mere moment. With a smile that could put anyone’s worries at ease, Jungkook assured her ─and the rest of the worrying mothers─ that he was doing just fine.

It’s Sunhi’s day, it’s her party, a few more hours and you can cry all about it when she’s sleeping, had become his mantra as the party goes on.

‘‘What’s with the long face?’’ His mother suddenly asks him after he finishes placing the candles on Sunhi’s unicorn themed cake.

Jungkook furrows his brows, ‘‘The unicorn’s face looks pretty alright to me,’’ he comments looking at the fondant shaped mythical creature at the top of the cake.

Mrs. Jeon rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly at his son’s obliviousness, ‘‘I’m talking about your long face. Is everything alright?’’ She asks in genuine concern, making him sigh as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘‘It’s not because of Jiwoo, right?’’ The woman cautiously asks, afraid the mention of her son’s ex partner might be too sensitive.

The news of the divorce had surprised his parents, but they weren’t completely heartbroken about it. They had known her for years, but it had never been a close relationship at that. His mother had made a couple of comments here and there before concerning his ex partner’s behavior, but were always overlooked by Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘I’m fine, mom. I’m just kinda tired.’’

For someone who hates lying, he’s been doing it a lot recently.

His mother doesn’t seem so sure about his answer, but decides not to interrogate him any further since she knows her son has been dealing with too much recently and she didn’t want to add her nagging to the list.

Eventually the party guests all sing happy birthday to Sunhi as she sits behind her cake clapping alongside them, mumbling the famous song as she waits for everyone to finish so she can blow the four candles out and make a wish. She closes her eyes with force, putting her hands together as the guests watch her silently mouth words out.

‘‘What did you wish for, Sunhi?’’ One of the kids excitedly asks her, fingers curling around her arm as he waits for her to answer.

Sunhi hmphs and turns her face away from him, ‘‘If I say it out loud it won’t come true!’’

Jungkook can only hope his daughter had asked for something he’s able to buy. The newest Barbie doll, a trip to the zoo, that pretty tutu she saw at the store. Anything that is at arm’s reach from him to give her. But Jungkook knows his daughter all too well, those things don’t really matter to her right now.

Sunhi’s wish is something he can’t obtain ─ someone that’s no longer a call away from him. His daughter doesn’t know, but he’s wished for the same thing too.

You to come back.

The small pieces of confetti on the ground, paper decorations pasted on the wall and hanging from the ceiling of the house are enough to give away that a party had happened the day before, and that someone had been too tired by the end of it to even attempt to clean up.

Even the thought of having to deal with all of the mess that his living room currently looks like is already making Jungkook regret not accepting his mother’s willingness to help after the party had ended yesterday, assuring her that she had done enough that day and that it was only fair he took care of the cleaning.

Sunhi’s birthday had gone smoothly for the most part.

And as Jungkook scrolls through his phone’s gallery, smiling warmly at the small clips he managed to capture of his gleeful daughter running around the yard with her friends and the multitude of pictures his mother took of her blowing the candles of the cake out, granted, majority of them blurry, he is reminded that, although the party had been a success, the aftermath hadn’t been as pretty.

The party was over when he started hearing the first goodbyes and thankful comments of the parents for inviting them over, wishing Sunhi a final happy birthday before they took their sleepy kids in their arms. He had hoped his daughter would be drained too, despite the amount of sugar she had a few hours before.

‘‘Auntie Y/N didn’t come.’’ Sunhi had stated, a pout on her trembling lips as she looked up at her tired father. ‘‘Why didn’t she come?’’ She asked in genuine curiosity as her eyes started glossing with tears.

Jungkook sighed, ‘‘Pumpkin, I told you she’s not in town. I’m sorry she─’’ It didn’t matter what excuse he had given her, the waterworks had begun. He hadn’t seen his daughter cry like that in a long time and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do to get her to stop.

Even if he tried to coax her with distractions, like the number of gifts she had received from the guests or telling her he’d let her have another slice of cake if she stopped crying. He knew that what his daughter wanted wasn’t toys or food. She wanted you. And as much as Jungkook wants you just as much, he’s lost on ways to make you come back.

Sunhi cried for what seemed like hours, his parents had even tried to cheer the little girl up by promising to take her to their house the very next morning for the rest of the weekend, to which she merely nodded as she fell asleep from exhaustion on her father’s chest.

He envied her as he remained awake for most of the night, tears streaming down his face as guilt ate him away for his daughter’s heartbreak.

It’s his fault after all.

Jungkook isn’t upset you didn’t show up, you didn’t have to. Not even Sunhi could make you come back. Selfishly kissing you that night had changed the course of your relationship forever and that meant that his daughter would have to pay for his wrongdoings.

With the absence of Sunhi, he’s reminded of just how big his house feels when he’s by himself. Ever since Jiwoo moved out, the only company he’s had is that of his daughter and it’s more than enough. With her dancing around the hallways and singing songs to the top of her lungs, Jungkook doesn’t feel as lonely.

He must’ve missed the knocking at the door or the ringing doorbell ─if there even was one─ because of the earphones he had on while he swept the confetti paper scattered on the hardwood floor of his home because by the time he opens his door to get a run around the neighborhood, he notices there’s a gift placed in his front doorstep.

Jungkook’s brows furrow with confusion, unsure of why it was there in the first place. He’s sure Sunhi had opened all of her gifts last night, lazily and not very excited about them after her big cry, but she had made sure to leave them all unwrapped.

The medium-sized box is wrapped with a white and pink polka-dot paper, a cute golden ribbon placed right in the middle of it. Jungkook picks it up, bringing it closer for better inspection. Maybe it was from one of the kids that couldn’t make it? Although, they could’ve just gave it to Sunhi when they saw her at school again.

His eyes widen and his heartbeat races up when he reads the sticker tag with the name of the person responsible for the gift.

‘‘To: Sunhi ♡

From: Auntie Y/N’’

His eyes scan the tag over and over again, just to make sure he’s reading the name correctly. When he manages to take his attention away from it, he looks around the street in hopes that he’d find you.

How long has this been out here? Could he have caught a glimpse of you had he been less distracted?

Although it feels wrong to open his daughter’s gift without her consent, he feels the urgent need to peek at what’s inside. His mind even tries to reason with himself, telling him it’s probably only a doll or a clothing item, like the other gifts Sunhi had received from the birthday guests yesterday.

With a click of his tongue, he forgoes doing the right thing and tells himself that he’ll just wrap the gift again before Sunhi comes back from his parent’s house.

The cute wrapping paper is thrown over his shoulder carelessly as he quickly unveils a white cardboard box, tilting his head slightly at what could possibly be inside. When he takes the top off, a soft gasp escapes his lips.

A pink and white digital camera aimed for children lies inside, there’s decorative paper placed around it and a note inside. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, taking it delicately in his hand as he reads the words written in the familiar handwriting that hasn’t changed from all those years back in college.

‘‘Happy 4th birthday, Sunhi! Since you’re growing older, I wanted to gift you something different this year around. Your daddy loves taking videos and I thought you should start doing it too, maybe he’ll pick his camera back up again haha. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see you blow your candles out, I hope all your wishes come true! I love you and miss you so much,

-Auntie Y/N’’

Jungkook blinks back the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He places the note back inside the box and breathes in deeply, exhaling slowly as he stares at the gift. No one but you could come up with an idea like this. It hurts him, but he smiles slightly at your thoughtfulness.

A different feeling arises inside him as he holds the gift in his hand, looking at it like this is the sign he had been sent from above. The last thread of his string of faith. He doesn’t even think twice, placing the gift gently inside and rushing to step outside to close the door.

He’ll go on that run, just not around his neighborhood.

As he runs past rows of houses and stores, the voice inside his head tries to tell him that he should think rationally. There’s a reason why you didn’t show up yesterday and another for you dropping the gift in front of his house without a sound. You don’t want to see him and yet he’s running straight towards you even if he knows this is hopeless.

He manages to shut that voice off as he maintains his rapid pace, rushing past the rows of buildings he’s familiar with and the street names he’s memorized by now. It all feels so different when he’s not behind the wheel, he usually always has to depend on his GPS to help him reach places. Your address, though, is one he proudly knows by heart.

As Jungkook stands outside your apartment building, he stares at it with the sound of his heart drumming inside his ears. Catching his breath, he’s reminded of the many times these past few months he’s been here, with Sunhi fast asleep in her car seat at the back.

He always pictured going up, knocking at your door, and begging for forgiveness, all for you to turn him down in the end with a gut-wrenching I don’t want you in my life anymore and a door closing on his face. That’s why he always drove away, deciding that uncertainty is better than hearing you reject him.

This time, though, nervous and unsure as he usually is when he comes here, Jungkook breathes in deep and ignores the familiar knot formed inside his stomach.

He decides that uncertainty isn’t a feeling he wishes upon you.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.18

Annulment

03/06/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,291

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, broken marriages, depression, abandonment, little bits of fluff, supportive Loki

A/N: After I finished the last chapter, I went right to work on this one because the mood was good and I’ve been wanting to get these chapters out since the very beginning. These are the moments that drive me to write fics. The point of contention when everything gets messy. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs. Since I posted this one so quickly after the one before I will be replying to the comments on this one instead of the one before. I hope you can forgive me! <3 Thanks for reblogging if you do, it seriously helps SO much. xoxo

If you were ever in question as to whether you had a fight or flight instinct when faced with stressful situations, you now know that your instinct is to freeze.

You’re immobilized by the terror that’s tearing through you. Nothing feels real at this moment when your whole world has suddenly come crashing down.

Only seconds have passed but you quickly push your meltdown as deep within you as you can.

One hand placed on your belly in an absentminded caress of the baby growing inside, you reach for the door to go in and tell Thor you’re pregnant. It doesn’t matter that Jane is pregnant too.

You’re his wife. This little one inside you is the heir to the New Asgardian throne. And yet, your mind starts to add up the time that Jane might have become pregnant and her baby would come first.

Her child would be heir, not yours. Legitimate or not. These days, that stands for nothing.

So, despite knowing that you’ll have to deal with Jane for the rest of your life as she is the mother of your husband’s first child, it’s really not all that bad.

He loves you.

Thor loves you.

While you process this sudden revelation, the conversation on the other side of the door continues not waiting for you to come to get a grip.

“Are you certain?”

“Do you doubt her?” Thor demands, sounding frustrated and stressed.

“Yes,” Loki says passionately, “I would doubt anyone that I have not seen in several months.

“What reason would she have to lie?” Thor begs, genuinely looking for an excuse that will make this untrue. “She has never wanted the responsibility of the throne. She has always spoken of having children as a distant possibility. Not an assurance. The last thing Jane would want is a baby.”

“When did you even have the opportunity to bed her? Did you secretly make her your mistress?”

“No!” Thor gasps, as if the idea of cheating on you is ridiculous. “No, I-it was the day I went to end things with her when Y/N accepted my proposal.”

“So, you slept with Jane and then came back home and bedded your new fiance on the same day?”

“I’m not proud of that fact,” Thor admits.

“Regardless, even if you did sleep with her, you need to have her examined, Thor. You cannot take her on her word, not with so much on the line.”

“Fine,” Thor agrees, “But I’m certain that she isn’t lying. She’s been tired and sluggish since she arrived, her appetite strange, and this past week she’s been sick at every meeting, unable to hold down any of her lunch.”

A deep sigh from Loki tells you he’s resigned to Thor’s judgement. Jane is pregnant.

“What will you do?” Loki asks.

The quiet tone of their voices more dire than the passionate denial Thor’s voice had been just a moment ago.

You should go in now. You’ll tell him that you don’t care that Jane is pregnant. You’ll support him and assure him that if he wants them to move into the palace or maybe one of the houses on the palace grounds, you won’t mind! In fact, it will be better so that your babies can grow together as true siblings.

“Y/N is not pregnant yet,” Thor says slowly, his voice calculating.

He’s thinking hard.

“What is your point, brother?” Loki demands, sounding defensive.

“If-” Thor breathes in deep, but when he speaks, the words tumble out sure and decided. “If I am to do right by Jane’s and my child, if I am to legitimize my heir, I’ll-”

He hesitates, your heart thrumming so fast and hard that you can hear it’s beat in your ears as your brain throbs.

“I’ll get an annulment. The basis of which will be that Y/N has been unable to provide me with an heir. I’ll get sworn statements from her doctors that our-our bodies are not compatible and since Jane is already pregnant-”

You take a step as if to run but freeze because you know you can’t do this. No. You can’t face this. Not here. Not this close to him and her and all of this stupid royal bullshit that you never asked for but got anyway.

As you fracture from the inside, you paint a calm smile on your face and while you pull it off, you can’t disguise the exhaustion that pokes through. You take several feet back from the door, giving yourself a good length of hallway to walk.

You straighten up, stand as tall as you can, and move towards the parted door, “Thor?”

There’s a rush of movement from inside as you reach the war room and you try to keep your hand from trembling as you reach down and pull the door open.

Inside, Loki stands ramrod straight, hands behind his back and his face carefully devoid of any kind of expression other than his normal neutral.

Thor turns away from his desk, forcing a smile for you until he sees your face and his own falls quickly.

You know he doesn’t think you overheard him because you’d given yourself plenty of distance so that he and Loki could stop talking before you were close enough to hear anything.

But he knows something is wrong and he moves towards you, right hand extended to take hold of your arm.

Trying not to make it obvious, you meander towards one of the tall wooden chairs by the war table and sit down before Thor can touch you.

“What is it, cherub? Are you ill?” Thor wonders, moving towards you.

Feigning interest in the small models of the outposts that the Warriors Three occupy across the planet, you get up and move away from him again as you lean down to look at the one in the United States.

“I’m-to be honest, I am feeling a little under the weather,” you nod, sighing as you give him a quick pained smile.

You clear your throat, hoping that it sounds like you’ve got a tickle.

“I’ll send for the doctor,” Thor moves towards the cord by the door but you stand up straight quickly and shake your head.

“No, Thor, don’t. I think maybe I just need some rest?” you nod, smiling at him again but it still just looks painful. “I came to ask you if it would be okay for me to go stay at my house for a little while? Maybe a week or so? Just so that I can get some proper sleep and-and maybe find out if it’s really me getting sick or I’m just stressed out about this park project?”

“I thought the park was almost done?” Loki checks.

“And it is,” you nod at him. “But we’ve had so much trouble with the import of several of the plants that I’d wanted to have in the wildflower corner of the park and the fountains are still giving us trouble so, I-I just need a few days to get away from it.”

You turn back to Thor who isn’t looking at you anymore but has his hand pressed to his mouth as he loses himself in thought.

As you watch him contemplate and weigh his options, wondering if he should seize this very convenient opportunity you’ve intentionally given him to make up his mind on what to do about Jane and her baby, you very nearly break.

Your lip quivers and in your desire to hide it, you move back towards the door and feign a quick peek out as if looking for someone.

“Thor?” you prod, getting a hold of yourself and turn to fix him with your expectant gaze. “Is that okay? Can I take a few days to just rest up?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and his face softens. You see the Thor who’d just had you perched on his lap, arm around your waist.

“Of course, cherub, if you need some time then you should take it.”

The sadness that fills you is urged on by the knowledge that before Jane’s pregnancy was revealed, Thor would have insisted he come with you.

There is no way that he would have let you go off on your own.

As he moves towards you, this time you make sure not to budge as he places his hands gently on your arms.

He cups the left side of your face, stroking your cheek with his large thumb before he makes to lean in towards you.

Instead of pulling away or making it look too obvious, you press your face in against his chest and he strokes your back as you successfully juke his kiss.

“No, don’t kiss me. I-I threw up and I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you pretend to fuss.

“You know I don’t care, cherub,” Thor nudges you back a little.

“Well, I do.”

You shake your head at him, delving deep into your soul to scrounge up whatever pieces of it you can find and give him a small pout instead.

“Alright,” Thor gives in, but he still leans down and presses his lips to your cheek and then your forehead before you’re pulling away from him to edge towards the door.

“I should go if I want to catch the next flight out,” you tell him.

“Y/N,” he calls and you stop by the door to look back at him, wishing he’d just let you go so that you can fall apart alone and away from all the eyes of the palace.

Thor clenches his hand into a tight fist, gently tapping it against the war table as you wait.

“I love you.”

You blink, give him a quick forced smile, and sigh because despite the heartache you’re drowning in, “I love you too, Thor. So much.”

As you walk away, you know that nothing will ever be the same. In a week’s time, you might not even be Queen anymore. Wouldn’t that be something?

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re given a bodyguard. Well, more like a friend who can kick serious ass. Hilde was happy to volunteer.

“Something’s up,” she observes as she escorts you into the airport gate.

Normally you’d have set up for a private plane, or Thor would have.

But he has other things on his mind.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, clearing your throat again for the fifth time since you left the palace in order to uphold the pretense of feeling sick.

“Your face is all wrong, you’re not saying something.”

“I have nothing to hide, Hilde. I’m just tired. I feel weak and beaten. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Like I’ll crack if I’m not careful enough to hold myself together.”

All of this is true. You do feel like you’re about to crumble to pieces. Nothing you just said is a lie. You’re not hiding anything, just waiting. In a week’s time, you’ll know where you stand. And then you can tell Hilde everything.

“How long have you felt this way?” Hilde wonders, real concern painting her tone.

“Not long,” you tell her. “It just started today, actually. About two hours ago?”

“There’s something more,” she refuses to believe that you’re only sick. “It’s like you’re running from something.”

“What would I be running from, Hilde? My luxurious and comfortable life? My loving husband? My sweet and loyal people? My life is perfect. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.

“I have a family. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. Why would I run from that? Unless of course, I’m being kicked out?”

Hilde fixes you with a look of complete confusion.

As you hand over your ticket to the man at the gate, you force a smile on your friend.

“If I were being kicked out, I’d run before they could get the chance to give me the boot. Then at least it was my choice and not someone forcing me to go away.”

“Why would anyone kick you out? It’s not possible, Your Majesty. You are Queen of New Asgard. Or did you forget?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever forget my time as Queen. I think I’ll remember it until the day I die.”

Hilde takes your arm, turning you to face her with subtle force, “Oi, what aren’t you telling me?”

You swallow hard, pushing your sorrow down until you can ignore it a little better.

“I’m-I’m not hiding anything, seriously. I’m just tired, Hilde. Being Queen is harder than I ever thought it could be and even though I love being married to Thor, the stresses of doing my job as Queen have reached a point where it’s boiling over.

“I just need a break...from everyone, Hilde. Even you.”

“What did I do?!” she demands, offended.

“Nothing. You’ve been one of the good parts of being Queen, but I just need a little break from Asgard as a whole. I spent my entire childhood and teenage years alone with no one to rely on me but me.

“I just need to be alone for a bit. One week. That’s all I want. So...I know that Thor won’t be happy about it but now that you’ve seen me onto the plane-”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Hilde frowns, almost angry at you for even asking.

“David is meeting me when the plane lands and then driving me home himself. I’ll be fine being alone for just the flight,” it’s a plea as much as it is a reassurance. “Please, Hilde. Please? Please?”

The higher your pitch gets, the more she breaks, turning sympathetic.

“Please, Hilde? Please?”

She growls and rolls her eyes, holding out your carryon bag--a large brown duffel bag stuffed with clothes--so that you can take it.

“Thor is going to be pissed at me,” she grumbles. “And it’s all your fault.”

You take your bag, hang it on your shoulder, and quickly pull her in to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Hilde. I’ll text you as soon as I land. I promise.”

“You’d better, or I’ll come find you and stick at your side like paste.”

A stewardess comes out to peek down at you and you hurry off before Hilde can change her mind.

In no time at all, you’re in your seat, the plane up and the air, and New Asgard--Thor and his annulment of your marriage--is fading fast behind you.

When you land, no one is there to meet you.

A necessary lie. You'll have to call David in the morning and let him know what's happening. He's your lawyer and if Thor goes through with his plan, you'll need to be legally ready.

You're hit with a stab of hurt that your previously loving marriage has taken such a shift.

Still, you feel bad for lying to Hilde, but when you’d said you needed your alone time, you’d meant it.

You rent a car with your own money, ignoring the shiny black credit card that Thor had given you during your honeymoon shopping trip. The last thing you need is them tracing your movements when you just want to be left alone.

The drive home is lengthy but the peace it brings you is welcome.

Four hours of no one but yourself, the music on your radio, and endless grassy hills and small town charms streaking past your windows like long lost friends.

After an hour of driving you stop at a roadside diner. You buy a bag full of fries, smear them in lines of ketchup, grab a lemonade to go, and text Hilde that you’re with David and on your way home.

After another hour, you stop again. This time at a decently sized convenience store, newly built. It's a truck stop really and you take the chance to use the bathroom then loiter by your car as you tap the screen of your phone with your thumb, waking it up over and over again. Unable to make up your mind.

Your wallpaper taunts you. A picture of you sitting between Thor’s legs on your massive bed, his arms wrapped around you as your left hand is placed to his cheek as he kisses yours, your other arm extended as you take the picture.

It’s difficult to find the courage to unlock your phone, scroll through your contacts, and press the little phone to dial Thor.

He doesn’t pick up right away.

Sadly your marriage already feels like a past life. It feels dead. Like a good dream you’ve woken up from and you just know if you try and go back to sleep to keep it going, it’ll only turn into a nightmare.

The phone rings and rings. It goes to voicemail.

It hurts. So much more than you expected it to hurt and your tears overflow leaving salty trails along your cheeks as you hiccup and try not to sob out loud.

You lean and cry against your car for the longest two minutes of your life before your phone is ringing and vibrating in your hand.

It’s Thor, and for a second, you consider not answering. You consider disappearing. Just fading into the wilderness. Abandoning your car right here. Never making it to your little house. It's so tempting in the moment to give up your throne, which will soon be taken away from you, and start your life again.

How long would they look for you? Would they eventually assume you're dead?

Still, you know that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric would spill the beans and if Thor knew...

You press your free hand to your stomach and know that you can’t just vanish. This life will follow you wherever you go and as painful as it is, you’re not sorry for the baby you’ve made.

You swallow your sobbing and with all of the other things you’re not allowed to feel right now or you’ll give yourself away, bury it deep down inside.

Gliding your finger across the screen, you answer the phone and press it to your ear.

“My love,” Thor gasps, sounding stressed or tired? Labored breathing.

Your mind goes to dark places and you chase away the nasty images your mind thinks up before you can let them hurt you more.

How can he still call me that?!

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Forgive me. I'd left my phone on my desk and I had my hands full of books.”

Your mouth won’t open. It won’t speak.

You realize all of a sudden that you don’t want to talk to Thor. You’re so angry at him. You’re hurt and betrayed and everything he’s ever told you is a lie.

“Y/N?” he sounds so confused.

“I’m here,” you manage.

“How are you feeling, cherub?”

Stop calling me that!

“I’m not great,” you sigh, sagging against the car. “I just wanted to call you to tell you that I’m with David and we’re on our way to my house. We stopped at the store to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d call you.”

“Wait, David? Why is David with you? Where is Brunnhilde?” Thor asks, his heavy breathing still loud.

“I asked her to stay behind,” you explain. “Look, Thor I don’t really feel well enough for talking. I just didn’t want you to worry. I promised I’d call.”

“Why would she let you go alone?” Thor demands, shouting into whatever room he’s in. “Loki! Where is Brunnhilde? Get her up here!”

“I have to go, Thor. David’s waiting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait. Don’t hang up yet, cherub. Do you have a doctor to see you close to home?” Thor frets, and you can’t stand it.

“I’m coming, David!” you pretend to call, the convenience store clerk currently throwing the trash looks at you then turns his head back and forth as if searching for who you might be talking to. “Bye, Thor.”

“No, wait, love. Don’t hang-”

His voice is cut off and yet his deep tone still rings in your ears as if he were standing right beside you.

Your heart cries out for him. You wish he was there with you but then your brain reminds you that your time with Thor is already over.

The clerk is still looking at you and you give him a quick shake of your head.

“Sorry,” you start. “Bad breakup.”

He nods sympathetically as you get back in your care then gives you a wave as you drive off, setting back off into the night.

You’re not driving twenty minutes before your phone dings. A text.

Then again. And again. And again. Too many texts come through and you can’t stand it.

You reach over and completely shut it off.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s midnight when you finally get up from bed.

There’s no escaping Thor even here in your own home. Your honeymoon memories are everywhere here.

The bed. The shower. The closet--Thor was eager one morning. The kitchen. The backyard. Every room has a memory. Not all of them sex, but all of them just as poignant and meaningful.

Or so you’d thought.

You wander down the hall to your kitchen, flipping the switch as you enter and make a beeline for the vintage fridge.

“Shit-” you sigh, not even opening it as you remember that there will be no food until you go shopping for some.

You take a peek, just to confirm, and all that's inside is a half empty jar of pickles on the door.

Irritated, you move towards the pantry and grab the first box of cereal you see, pop it open and plunge your hand inside.

You scoop a bit into your mouth but just as you begin to crunch, your mouth falters at the sight of Loki sitting on one of your island stools where he clearly wasn't before, a gentle smile to compliment the knowing sharpness in his eyes.

“You heard us, didn’t you?”

You try not to react to his question, because it’s not a question. Just confirmation of what he clearly already guessed.

“You’re not really here, are you?” You finish chewing, taking more cereal into your mouth after you swallow.

You’re starving. You should have bought some burgers at that diner to reheat and eat tonight and tomorrow.

“No,” Loki confirms. “I'm...checking in. Thor doesn’t know. He’s pretty oblivious, actually. Other things on his mind.”

“Like pregnant ex-girlfriends whose baby will have a stronger claim over the Asgardian throne than mine?”

There’s a bitterness in your voice but you don’t feel sorry for it. You’re not going to hide how hurt you are.

Loki’s face finally breaks as he realizes what you mean. He gives you a small startled blink before he’s got control of his expression again.

“Don’t tell him, Loki.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Does he?” you demand, voice rising in your anger. “And I don’t deserve to know about Jane being pregnant?”

“He would have told you,” Loki assures you.

“When?” You demand, eyes stinging. “When he needed my signature on the annulment papers?”

“He’s not decided on anything yet.”

“Oh, my god! As if that even fucking matters!” you get up, throwing the box of cereal into the garbage.

They’re stale.

“The point is he thinks it’s a good idea. I married him. I thought he welcomed me into his family. I thought I belonged with him, and you and Hilde and Heimdall, but I’m just some fucking guest after all, aren’t I?”

“You’re overreacting,” Loki chastises you.

You pick up a nearby mug and chuck it at him. It goes through him and breaks against the wall behind him.

“Don’t tell me that I’m overreacting when my husband is thinking about legally erasing all traces of our marriage!

"I trusted him," you reach up and jab at your own chest somewhat painfully.

"I thought what we had was worth keeping and protecting. I was already making plans to move Jane and her baby into the palace so that our kids could grow up together, as a family but he doesn’t want that.

“He doesn’t want me in his life if he’s already got another heir lined up so why should I tell him? If he doesn’t want me without this baby then he has no right wanting me with it!”

Loki lets you shout, he lets you break down. He doesn’t judge you for it either, but he reads into it. Too much, and you hate him for it.

You don't want to be reasonable. This doesn't feel like the time for reason. You're shattered.

“He loves you, Y/N. His choice is made-”

“For the child, yes. I get that. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. And maybe I shouldn’t be angry for him doing right by his baby when I’m carrying one of my own, but I am angry. It hurts to know that in moments he was able to make the choice to end our marriage.

“He’s my husband and I am his wife. Does that seriously mean nothing?”

Loki shakes his head, “I’ve already told you that he hasn’t decided anything, yet.”

“You don’t get it, and I don’t know that you can understand what even considering the option of annulment means for us as a couple.”

Loki sighs, “I want you to listen to me very clearly, Y/N. I say this with as much love as a brother can feel for his sister. You need to understand and you need to accept that you and Thor are not a normal couple. Thor is, first and foremost, a king.

“He is beholden to his people and he needs to ensure our position on this planet because we don’t have a home anymore. We are refugees and this is our home now. It is Thor’s job to protect that on behalf of all of us by any means necessary. Choices like these are the reason that my brother resisted the throne for so long.

“As a King, all of the love in the world cannot keep him from making the choices that will benefit our people, even if the choice should hurt him in the process.”

You’re shaking with tears as Loki speaks, shaking your head as you press your hand against your tummy. Your thoughts are full of the baby growing within you and the helpless feeling that presses down on you.

“That’s why this baby changes things, Y/N. You must tell him that you’re pregnant if you are going to keep him for yourself. If you want your marriage to survive this, you can’t keep this from him.”

Shaking your head, you turn away from him to fill a small glass with water and take a small drink.

Yes, you need to tell Thor that you’re pregnant. As wounded as your pride is, you can’t keep him in the dark forever.

“My Queen?” Loki urges you, calling you by your title probably to remind you that like Thor, you have obligations even if you don’t like or want them.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll tell him, but not yet. Just give me this week, Loki. Please.”

When you turn to look at him again, he’s softer with his gaze.

“You’re going to let him suffer for his idea of the annulment,” he guesses.

“No,” you shake your head. “This isn’t for Thor. This is for me. Just because I understand the reason he thought of an annulment doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“If I saw him right now, I couldn’t even talk to him, Loki. He might have betrayed me for good reasons, but he’s still betrayed me. He still accepted, even for a few moments, that giving me up was the best thing he could do.

“And maybe it’s because he’s the-the first person that I’ve ever loved, and maybe I’m still looking at our very arranged marriage with some girl’s view of romance but I can’t separate his duty from my hurt and I-I don’t know that I can ever forgive him.”

"I suppose that's fair," Loki sighs. “I won’t say anything, I promise. But I’m going to make sure that he’s here on Friday. From there, it’s your duty as mother to a future prince or princess of Asgard to tell Thor about your pregnancy.”

You move to sit next to him, giving the bits and pieces of the mug you’d thrown at him a look as you settle.

“I’m sorry I threw a cup at your head.".

Loki smirks, “Would you believe me when I tell you that it’s happened before?”

You almost smile, “Yes. I believe it.”

Loki chuckles but you can't return the sentiment. For you, the world is still ending.

“Can you do me a favor, sister?” Loki asks, his term of endearment warms you a little.

Even if Thor found it easily to cast you off, you’re happy that Loki sees you so permanently a part of his family.

“Something tells me I’m not going to be happy about it, but sure.”

“Turn on your phone,” he glances at the phone sitting at the center of the island only inches away from you where you’d left it to avoid temptation. “Thor won’t shut up about how you’re not replying. If you really want to cherish some time alone, it would be better if you answered him. If he’s worried, he can get here within the hour. I don't suppose you want that."

"No," you shudder..

"Oh, and make sure you use your black card. He’ll be checking to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

You roll your eyes, the rift between you and Thor already so big you can’t see a way to fix it.

“This contradiction of Thor loving me so much he’s worried to death and his ability to decide on annulling our marriage is hard to swallow. What’s he going to do when we’re not married anymore and I’m living here and he’s married to Jane?”

“That will never happen, Y/N seeing as you’re going to tell him that you’re pregnant and he won’t go through with an annulment.” Loki insists.

“What if he does?” you wonder. “Jane’s baby was conceived first. They’ll be heir to the throne. Not mine. What if Thor decides that an annulment is still the best course of action?”

“Then I think I’ll have to reconsider my pledge to serve him as my King. But he won’t go through with it, I promise you. Trust me. I know him. Thor is too soft hearted to hurt you like that.”

“He already hurt me, Loki. It’s just the finality of a follow through that I’m waiting for.”

“You’re so eager to be abandoned,” Loki observes, frustrated with you.

“It just feels like I already have been. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I can’t help how I feel. Haven’t you ever thought you belonged somewhere only to find out that you’re not as accepted as you thought?”

Loki thinks for a moment, his silence heavy with memory, “I have.”

“And how long did it take you to get over it?”

Loki grins, meeting your eyes with a bit of resignation.

“A long time,” he admits.

“And mine just happened today. You expect me to be over it already? Get bent, Loki.”

Loki chuckles.

“You have a point. I’m sorry, I’ve been looking at this through the lens of being my brother’s advisor. I’ll try and do better.”

His promise is genuine and it makes you feel better that you have at least one person on your side.

“Thank you, Loki,” you sigh. “I know this isn’t an easy spot for you to be in, between me and Thor. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Thor might not have noticed the way you refused to touch him when you left today but I was instantly sure that you’d heard everything. Does it bother you that he slept with her and you on the same day?”

“Not as much as I thought it would,” you admit. “Even without him explicitly saying it, I knew that he’d been with her. I knew that it was likely that he’d slept with her. They were in love. Maybe him more than her, but they didn’t break up because they wanted to. They broke up because he needed to get married and Jane wasn’t ready to do that.

“If Thor had made more of an attempt to delay our wedding, maybe Jane would have come to him sooner with her news and Thor and I would never have gotten married. I wouldn’t be pregnant, and this would all be much less messy.”

“I’m glad he didn’t wait. I’d rather have you as a sister than Jane. She’s nice but you’re much better suited to be Queen.”

“Until my King pisses me off and I run off for a week,” you tease.

“This is an exceptional situation,” Loki nods. “I don’t think if anyone else were in your shoes, they would be any less hurt than you by the news of Jane’s baby. If she is pregnant.”

You look at him, interest piqued.

“You said something like that before, that Jane should get tested to make sure she’s pregnant. What makes you think she might not be?”

“Nothing in particular. She might be. I just really don’t want her to be. I like you for Thor, Y/N. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Asgardian now.”

“I wish Thor thought like you do.”

“He does think it, Y/N. He’s just thrown off balance right now. Give him a little time and tell him about your child. His child, and it will clear up his mind. His judgement is compromised by the fact that he has an heir from the woman he once loved and the woman he now loves has had no luck in conceiving one. Or so he thinks.”

“I already told you that I’ll tell him, Loki. I just want some time.” you sigh.

“I know. We’re talking in circles. I’ll go, let you get some rest.”

You turn to watch him, slowly he begins to dissolve into slow moving golden swirls mixed with a tinge of green.

“Oh, and check your fridge again. I’ve left you a present.”

Just as quickly as he’d shown up, he’s gone.

With a heavy heart you remember the favor he asked of you and turn on your phone.

Twenty texts chime in and you quickly scroll through them.

They’re all from Thor, save for two from Hilde.

Hilde: Thanks. Be careful.

Hilde: Snitch!

All of Thor’s are variations of the same message.

Thor: Please reply, cherub.

Thor: Are you asleep?

Thor: I’m sorry if I’m waking you up.

Thor: Are you home yet?

Thor: Are you safe?

It isn’t until the last few messages that his frenzy of worry seems to change. More resigned to your lack of response. Probably believing that you are actually asleep.

Thor: I miss you already, cherub. I can’t tell you how strange it is to lay in our bed without you.

Thor: I don’t think there’s been a night since we married aside from my visit to the outposts that I have not had your perfect body pressed to mine.

Thor: My heart aches without you.

Thor: My body craves in your absence.

Thor: My soul is empty. You are my very essence now, my sweet cherub.

Thor: I hope you’re not very ill. I could not stand to lose you.

You sob, reading his texts through paints a drastic contrast between his deep voice crying for annulment and the loving, doting, sweet husband who sent you these messages.

His text voice is also so different from the way he talks. You can hear the way he might have talked to you if he hadn’t spent so much time with the Avengers and other humans here on Earth. Jane probably heard him speak like this out loud when they first met.

She’d been his first contact with this planet.

Wiping at your tears, you clutch the phone to your chest for a moment before focusing your blurry eyes on the screen again to keep reading.

Thor: I’ve never known how essential you are to my life until this moment. I need you at my side. I am most certain of it now.

Thor: I would give my life for you. I will keep you close from now on. I don’t know if I can last a week without you, my love. Don’t hate me if I come to you tomorrow.

Thor: Loki has just told me that he’s come to see that you’ve settled into your home safely. I really need him to teach me that trick. He says you need rest and that you already have a doctor coming by in the morning.

Thor: Please tell me what they say once they’ve seen you.

Thor: Loki keeps yelling at me to let you sleep.

Thor: Goodnight, cherub. I love you. More than my life.

Thor: Please text me in the morning.

Thor: It’s Loki. I’ve taken his phone. I’ll make sure he leaves you alone for the full week. Thank you for turning your phone on.

Y/N: I’m fine, Thor. Just very tired.

And because it’s true and if you don’t say it, he’ll get suspicious:

Y/N: I love you, too.

You sniffle and lock your phone.

“Jerk,” you grieve, and move to the fridge.

Opening it again, you’re surprised to find it fully stocked this time with all of your favorite foods and treats.

Loki is seriously the best brother-in-law in the universe.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a wife for thor pt18 #loki #loki laufeyson

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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

Text

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

Text

London Rain

Part 1

03/09/2021

Pairing: Henry Cavill x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,022

Warnings: fluff, nudity

Summary: Henry comes home two days early after being away filming for several weeks to surprise his lady.

A/N: I’ve been writing fan fiction for some time now, but I never felt comfortable sharing my works with anyone. Over the past months things slowly started to change and I became more active here on tumblr, and it seems that I have reached the point at which I want to put something I came up with out there. Please keep that in mind while reading and be gentle.

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

This story was inspired by Heather Nova’s song London Rain. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

London rain was purring down in thick strands, playing a rhythmic melody on the roof of the cab. He paid the driver generously, more than pleased that he had delivered him at his destination safe and sound in this horrible weather. With a wave of his hand and a tired smile, he was quick to wish the man a good night. Scooping his bags up from the pavement, he hurried to get to the front door before the thick drops would soak him completely.

He hadn’t even seated the key inside the lock, when he could hear heavy steps on the other side of the door, followed by a soft whimper. As much as he loved the dog and his warm welcomes, he devoutly hoped that he wouldn’t bark in his excitement.

As soon as he had opened the door a tiny crack, Kal pressed past the barrier and jumped up, licking his face excitedly.

“Hello to you too,” Henry chuckled, taking his time to hug his buddy. Eventually he grabbed his paws, signalling him that it was time to get down again. “Now be a good boy and don’t wake the lady of the house, alright?”

Kal snorted as if he had understood, before he trotted back inside. Henry hurried to follow him, setting his bags down in the hall, throwing his coat on top of them carelessly. While he disposed of his shoes, he allowed himself a brief glance around the familiar quarters. Simply being here took such a weight of his shoulders that he felt light as a feather as he tiptoed into the living room, where he found Kal on his bed, looking up at him expectantly.

“Sorry, buddy, it’s been a long day and there is only one thing I want to do.” His gaze wandered over to the door that separated the living room from the bedroom, making his insides clench in excitement and without further ado, he began to strip himself bare, leaving his clothes on the sofa.

He was careful to switch off the light before he entered the bedroom, sneaking over to the bed silently. In the dim light that drifted through the curtains he could make out her familiar form on her side of the bed and finally seeing her after such a long time apart almost overwhelmed him. Tears of joy blurred his vision and he had to concentrate on her even breathing to not lose it completely.

Carefully he pulled up the sheets and as he glided underneath, the comfortable heat of her body engulfed him, welcoming him home. Inch by inch, he scooted closer until his chest finally met her back, the familiar sensation at last making him feel whole again. One arm slowly snaking around her middle, he pulled her even closer, while her enchanting scent filled his nostrils. God, he had missed her so much, missed holding her, feeling her skin on skin.

“You’re home.”

He grinned, the joy of hearing her voice outweighing his guilt of waking her up by far. But instead of answering, he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his whiskers tickling her sensitive skin.

“And you kept the stache.”

A deep chuckle escaped his throat. How could she be so observant while she was still half asleep? He had hoped she wouldn’t notice, giving him time to get rid of the facial hair first thing in the morning. During their video calls, she had made it very clear that she wasn’t overly fond of this look, but he had prioritised getting home over getting rid of the moustache.

“You know you’re a lucky man, right?”

His arm flexed playfully around her waist. “Because I’ve got you.” It came out more as a question than as a statement.

“Yes, that and because you are one of two people who can pull off a stache and still look incredibly handsome instead of giving me strange pornstar vibes.”

He thought about her words for a second. “One of two? Who is the other guy?”

His tone bordering on slighted, his grip on her tightened subconsciously.

“No need to worry, Hen. It’s Tom Selleck. He’s way too old for me anyway.”

“I wasn’t worried,” he was quick to reply, but there was no chance she would believe him as even to his own ears his words seemed more than just a bit defensive.

“Yes, you were.” He could hear the cute grin on her lips that never failed to make his heart swell.

“Yes, maybe a bit.”

With a soft chuckle, she turned in his arms and suddenly he felt sorry that she had closed the curtains so neatly, making it impossible to see the beloved features of her face clearly in the faint light. She on the other hand didn’t seem to have a problem with the darkness, her palm finding his cheek with a sure movement.

“I missed you.”

Gently his hand dove into her hair, pulling her to him, until his lips softly met her forehead. “I missed you too. Terribly.”

His other hand smoothing over the middle of her back, he pulled her into him like he knew she loved. Suddenly snippets of their last call played before his inner eye, those rare moments when their longing seemed almost unbearable and made them both all whiny and soft. It had been in one of those moments that she had told him how much she missed the way he held her, caging her in with his strong arms, making her feel so secure in his embrace. And as if she remembered her words as well, she rested her cheek on his chest with a contented sigh, her fingers lazily raking through his dark fur.

Gradually he could feel her breath even out against his skin as sleep claimed her once more. While his lips found her hair, he could sense another wave of the familiar warmth take hold of his whole body. He was home again, with her. Utterly chuffed, his eyes finally fell shut, before the steady drum of the raindrops against the window slowly lulled him to sleep as well.

Part 2

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfiction

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hansolmates · 3 years

Text

shiver | 03

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut w/c; 498 a/n; hi friends. i really appreciate all the love and support you’ve given me this past few weeks. i haven’t gone through all the asks and taglist requests, but consider this a mini-update until i make my return this friyay. enjoy! [shiver masterpost]

Jungkook’s knocking on your door Sunday morning to no avail.

It was a dick move to leave you for Jungyeon last night, but he was getting the googly eyes and Jungyeon’s been hinting at this all week. It was bound to occur, you just happened to get knotted in the fray.

Besides, he knew you’d be fine. You’re a big girl. For now however, he just wants to make sure you got home alright.

He would text you, but he actually doesn’t have your number. He doesn’t want to ask his mom so she can ask your mom for your number either, otherwise they’ll know something’s up.

Anyway, why’s he bothering? You’re just plain old Bunny, a silly crush that he’s never been able to shake off. When he first saw you in the apartment next to his earlier this week, he didn’t know what to think. Maybe you followed him all the way here. It’s stupid, but it’s a possibility. Maybe the teasing and sexual tension probed you to search for him in hopes of a real relationship. Then again, you haven’t talked to him about what conspired in the church since then.

Unable to come up with a conclusion to your absence, Jungkook gives up and decides you’re probably asleep in your bedroom, nursing a hangover.

However, this conclusion isn’t suitable for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.

You’re a quiet person by nature, but not that quiet. It’s Tuesday he decides to eavesdrop. Shamelessly, Jungkook takes a glass and cups his ear to your connected walls.

There’s a pang in his chest when he realizes that your room sounds completely empty, devoid of life. He tries again at 4PM, and then at 9PM. Nothing. Potentially, you could be the type to study at the library late at night.

On Friday Jungkook decides he’s done. He doesn’t want to go to a party tonight, he’s had a long week of studying and projects and all he wants to do is order a pizza and tuck in. When he calls up his favorite pizzeria, he asks for a large pie with half of his favorite toppings and half of your favorites.

It’s unfair, the simultaneous fight that he knows so much yet so little about you. His college life and his home life shouldn’t be mingling like this. He doesn’t know how to act.

He holds two slices in his hand, armed and ready at your door. “Bunny! I know you’re in there!” Jungkook exclaims, and it surprises him to hear his own voice beckoning you. Oh, the irony. “C’mon, I got your favorite, come have dinner with me!”

Not a peep. He presses his ear to the door and concentrates. The pizza plate is full of oil and sags in his grip. It’s a depressing sight, especially when Jungkook is deflating against your door, unsure of what to do.

“Fine!” he sounds like a baby, a big baby when he yells at the door, “more pizza for me!”

#btsghostie #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Places (Pt. 04 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (03)

Next part (05) ->

{Vikings Masterlist}

Fit For a Princess

You're listening to the chattering between Aslaug and Helga, looking at pieces of jewelry at the market place. You say something every now and then, but you can't shake away Ivar's stare. On the last days, two weeks or so, he's right there, sitting across from you on every meal, eyes burning through you. Hvitserk said he's studying you, still expecting you to snap, to decide you had enough of all this and want to go back home. To Wessex, where your older brother now rules. And Ragnar already said he'd take you back if you wanted, so there's that.

But leaving Kattegat hasn't even crossed your mind, not before and not now. How could you trade all you have here, and slide back into the invisible chains you had on? It wouldn't be just stupid, it would be the death of you. You're finally understanding who you are, the things you like, the kind of people you like. In England, you had to play a specific role, because everything was political. Here, you're just who you are. And you do what you want to do. This is true freedom.

“I really like this one,” Helga says, as your eyes wander through the many rings, earrings, and necklaces. “I'd like those two as well.” She continues as you pace around, further away from both women, turning the corner and then walking to another store. The pieces they have here are all made of metal, delicately bent into beautiful shapes. You caress a bracelet with the tip of your fingers, wondering if it'd look good on you.

“Don't waste your time with these cheap things.” The voice, that you now recognize immediately, makes you turn around. Ivar comes from among the people, only stopping when he's standing next to you.

But despite his attention being on the jewelry, your eyes are on him. “You're tall.” It comes out suddenly, because he never stood beside you like this, so you couldn't have noticed.

“Well, you're tiny.” Ivar glances at you, playing with one of the rings. “Anyway, you shouldn't be looking at these things. They won't suit you very well.”

Giving the old man an apologetic look, you randomly pick a bracelet. You don't get why Ivar is being rude, but, judging by what Hvitserk had told you, his brother isn't one to hold back. He says what he thinks, it doesn't matter how mean it may sound to others. You're still trying to figure out if this level of brutal honesty is good or bad. “I really like this one.” Searching on the small bag attached to your dress, you take four coins, way more than what the bracelet is worth, handing it over to the man and putting the bracelet on. The silver color is beautiful, and the drawings carved on it remind you of the pattern you saw on one of the boats that brought you here.

Ivar rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, sighing. “You are such a kind princess.” Dropping the ring, he starts walking side by side with you when you set in motion through the market. You weren't expecting that.

“King Ecbert was king of Wessex. This isn't Wessex.”

“(Y/N)! Wait for us.” Aslaug calls and you stop, giving her a look and a nod before turning to face Ivar, who towers over you.

“Therefore, I'm not a princess anymore.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a small smile.

“That's a shame, isn't it?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer.

“Not really.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give a little step back, putting a strand of hair behind your ears before giving him a little wave, walking back to where both women are.

After they're done shopping, as you walk back home, the clouds push themselves apart just enough for the sunlight to appear. That makes you stop, taking in the warmth on your skin, but it soon disappears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Hvitserk calls, coming from the beach with his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who's walking behind them. “We're going to meet some traders. Wanna come?”

“Why not?” You mumble, elbowing Hvitserk when he's close enough.

“Go put on some pants then. We're riding there.”

“Oh.” It's so absurd it's stupid, how you can't seem to do the simple things people know by heart here. “I'm not very good at riding.” Whispering, you tell him, not wanting anyone else to listen.

“I'll help you out.” He nods, tilting his head to where Bjorn is. “Without cracking your head open in the process.”

Smiling you nod before heading inside to change out of the dress. You're just about to head out when Aslaug tells you to grab a cloak in case it rains later, so you have to make another trip to your room. But soon enough you meet Hvitserk and the others again, reading the horses.

“Which one is mine?”

“Over here.” Hviserk guides to a beautiful white horse. “Give me your leg.” He says, and for a moment you furrow your eyebrows, but soon enough you understand what he means. Raising your leg, Hvitserk grabs your calf and you push yourself up, successfully mounting on the horse with his help. It feels funny to be this tall. You have ridden before, but most of the time you used a carriage. There was no need for a princess to ride on the back of a horse at Wessex. It's wild though, and you've grown to love wild things. “Keep your feet like this on the stirrups at all times. Don't put of your feet all the way in or it might get stuck if you fall. If you touch her with your ankles, she'll move forward. Pull the halters and she'll stop. The same thing goes to pull her left or right, but since we'll ride together she'll just follow the other horses.”

“Got it.”

“Your ass might hurt at the end of the day, so be prepared.” He warns before jumping to the back of his horse. “If it'll help you feel more steady, you can hold on the saddle, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it once you lose the fear of falling.”

“Have you ever fallen from a horse before?” As you speak, the small group starts moving, and your mare does the same, keeping their pace, slow at first until everyone starts galloping, and all air leaves your lungs. You hold tightly to the saddle, scared at first, but you remember what Hvitserk just told you. If you let the fear of falling win, you'll never learn to ride properly, and you'll never enjoy it. Slowly, you let go of the saddle, holding only on the halters, making sure it's loose so she'll feel free to run.

And the sensation is amazing. The wind makes your hair whip your face over and over, and you lightly shake your head to get rid of it. Glancing at Hvitserk, you mirror his position, a smile creeping over your lips. The landscape, green, blue, and gray, passes by in a blur, and you try to take it all in. It's beautiful, breathtaking. Almost literally, because when you finally stop, you're struggling to catch your breath.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and Hvitserk nods before moving to stand next to his father and brother. You see a small troop approaching, riding up the hill.

“You're quite good at this,” Bjorn says, guiding his horse away from his siblings and near you. “A few more lessons you'll be riding like a true Viking.”

“I really like it. Its... Thrilling.” You're finally calming down, and your thighs ache a little bit.

“Wanna see the traders coming?” Turning his horse around, he gestures at a cliff, not too many miles away. “We could go up there, it'll give us a nice view.”

“Isn't it a little high?”

“The horses are used to it. C'mon.” Without waiting for your answer, he starts galloping away.

Glancing at Hvitserk, you hold the halter tightly to keep the mare from moving. “You think I should?”

“Sure, it has a nice view. But if you feel like the trail there is too much you come back here, alright? The horses are used to it but you're not.”

“Alright.” Touching the mare with your ankles, you loose the halter and she immediately moves, following Bjorn's horse. It doesn't take much until you're deep inside the woods, the horses now trotting. Bjorn keeps silent, giving you a few glances since you're slightly behind him.

“That way.” He says, and you just let your ride follow his. The smooth ground soon starts changing, with more rocks, and becomes unravel. When you see a steep slope, with apparently nothing to hold on to, you pull the halters, making the mare stop.

“I think it's too craggy.” You speak up, getting Bjorn's attention. “I don't want to fall on my first try.”

“She's used to this kind of inclination. You'll be fine.”

Considering it and also what Hvitserk said, you decide to leave the cliff viewing for another day, when you feel more secure on the horse. “I think I'll pass, Bjorn. Maybe another cliff where I can go on foot.”

“Don't be a pussy. It's not that craggy.” Then, he kicks his horse hard and it sets in motion. It doesn't surprise you, but when the mare moves as well, following him, you're startled, and in the sudden change, you let the halter fall.

Holding on the sell, you can only watch as Bjorn's horse easily climbs the slope, at a fast pace, and yours do the same. But when it suddenly turns left, around a huge rock, you lose your balance, and since there's nothing to hold on to, both your feet escape the stirrups, and you're pulled to the ground hard. Losing your breath, a sting on your ankle makes you yelp as you roll down the slope, only stopping once the ground is flat again. Rolling on your back, you take deep breaths, trying not to move the left leg since the pain is spreading through your foot and calf. “Damn it!” You exclaim, removing the hair from your face.

“(Y/N)!” It takes only a few seconds until you see Bjorn kneeling by your side. “Are you alright?”

“I just fell from a horse and rolled down a hill!” You speak fast, the pain on your back making itself aware. “Of course I'm not fine!”

“Let me take you–” He says as he starts to pull you up.

“No.” You cut him off, slapping his hands away. Bjorn has done enough for today. If he wasn't trying to be a freaking show-off, this wouldn't have happened. “Go get–”

“(Y/N)?” You hear his voice and breathes out relief. “I heard a yell.”

“Over here. Lying on the ground.” Annoyed, you cover your eyes with both hands. “Can you please see if my ankle is broken?”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice, and you uncover your eyes to see him jumping to the ground, kneeling next to your stretched out leg.

“Bjorn made his horse bolt up the slope and mine followed.” You explain, giving him a hard glance, groaning when Hvitserk lifts your leg to remove your boot. “Easy there!”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “But calm down, it's not broken, just sprained.”

“Shit.” Taking a deep breath, you sit up taking off the other boot as well and throwing it at Bjorn. “You can't keep yourself from getting me hurt, can you?”

“Me? Everything you had to do was hold on. The horse–”

“I'm not a Viking!” Bursting out, you look up at him. “I'm not some shieldmaiden, I'm still trying to fit in here and learn things. You can't expect me to follow your pace.”

“I just–”

“Bjorn, you should get back. Help father with the traders, I'll take her back to Kattegat.” Hvitserk interrupts him, and Bjorn leaves after a grunt, saying something you couldn't understand.

“And he thinks he has the right to be pissed!” Lying back down, you groan. “I think this is a sign to stay away from him. Every time he's in the situation, I get hurt.”

“Alright, c'mon.” Hvitserk pulls your arm until you're seated again. “You need to put some ice on this ankle, let's go.” Hvitserk takes your mare first, tying her up with his horse before mounting and pulling you up to ride with him.

Despite the slow pace he keeps, your back still hurts. Resting your head on his back, you sigh. “Why are you so quiet?” You ask after a while.

“I'm thinking about the right words to tell this to mother. She won't be happy.” He answers, a hand resting on his thigh as the other holds the halter. “She's not very fond of Bjorn already.”

“It was partially my fault too, I think. I let the halter slip and had nothing to hold on to.”

“You're know Bjorn likes you, right?” Hvitserk suddenly says, and you pinch your eyebrows together. This thought hasn't crossed your mind. “That's probably why he did that. That's how he... Gets a woman's attention.”

“Would you do the kindness of telling him it's not working?” Muttering, you rest both your arms on his back folding them as if his shoulders were a table. “Actually, I've been meaning to tell you... I met Ivar at the market place today.”

“...And?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Nothing, just... It was nothing, really.” It's hard to understand exactly what you want to tell Hvitserk. You just can't seem to put your feelings or thoughts together. “I was looking at these things and he said they wouldn't suit me.” Stretching out your arm, you show him the bracelet. “I bought this there.”

“That's nice. But cheap.” Rolling your eyes, you remember Ivar said pretty much the same thing.

“He also said I'm kind. But that was probably in a mocking tone, so...” You get into Kattegat, and Hvitserk greets some people. “I don't know.”

“I believe it's safe to assume Ivar doesn't hate you.” Hvitserk slows down the horse when a group of kids run by. “If he did, he wouldn't put himself on your way like that... Or look at you the way he does.”

“And how does he look at me?” The words come out slowly because you're not sure if you want to know.

“The only thing I can say for sure is that he never looked at a woman like that.” You finally get to Ragnar's house, and Hvitserk asks a man to help you down. Once you're safe on the ground, he jumps off, telling the man to take the horses. “And I mean it in a good way.”

He puts a hand around your waist, helping as you jump on the right foot until the table in the main hall. “Do you think he–”

“What happened this time?” Aslaug asks, her voice already giving out that she's not happy.

“Twisted ankle. She fell from the horse.”

“Take her to her room, Hvitserk.” The Queen mutters, saying something to the girls who were following her. “And carry her this time if that isn't too much to ask.”

“Alright.” He replies, picking you up with a hand on the small of your back and another under your legs, quickly finding the way to your chambers.

Giggling, you give him a look “I love when your mother–”

“Careful with the teasing this time. I might just drop you to the floor and I don't care if your a princess who fell off a horse.” The fake angry tone makes you laugh again.

“My bad, Prince Hvitserk.” You snap back, rolling your eyes.

Aslaug has her maids help you bathe first, cleaning the dirt that is attached to your face and hair before lying you on the bed again and applying a piece of fabric with cold water on your ankle, keeping it elevated with some pillows. She isn't happy to know the whole story, despite you assuring her it's alright now. You could've died, she said, breaking your neck. But it's useless to worry about what could've happened. The best thing to do now is to focus on the ankle, which she said will be better in a few days, and let the whole incident go.

Later that night, you give little jumps to the main hall to eat something. It's just Ubbe and Bjorn, seated on a table at the corner. Nodding at them, not wanting to chat with Bjorn at the moment, you sit at the edge of the table in the middle, your back turned at both men, taking the jar and pouring yourself something to drink.

“How's your ankle?” Ubbe asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“It's fine. I'll be able to walk normally in a few days. But my back still hurts.” Completely ignoring Bjorn's existence, you turn away from them again.

Drumming your fingers on the table, you wait for the Queen's maids to bring your meal. When you feel someone moving behind your back, you assume it's them, and place your cup further away to open some space. But instead of the bowl with rabbit stew, a necklace is put down before you. And it's absolutely beautiful, with three blue stones surrounded by a golden metal, delicately molded around it. It's different from anything you've ever seen in Wessex. Taking it in your hands, you see Ivar dropping to the seat next to you, and you turn to look at him.

“What is it?” You ask, unable to hide the smile that comes to your lips.

“A necklace.” He simply says, and you roll your eyes at his tone. What a way to ruin the mood.

“Yeah, I noticed.” The smile slowly drops as your eyes go back to the piece, fingertips caressing one of the stones.

“This was made for a princess. Not those cheap things.” He gestures at your bracelet, and you giggle.

“Well, this is absolutely beautiful.” Glancing at him, you find he was already staring. “Is it for me?” You inquire in a lower voice, not wanting to make any assumptions that might embarrass you.

Ivar nods, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Turn around. Let me put it on.”

Doing as he says, you turn your back at him. Ivar takes the necklace and places it around your neck, and you hold your hair up so he can close it on the back. Once he's done, you let the hair fall before turning to face him, folding your left leg and carefully laying the wounded ankle on the bench between you and Ivar. “How does it look?”

You wait for an answer, but it doesn't come. Ivar's eyes were fixed on the necklace, but slowly, they come to meet yours. Tilting your head to the side a little, you feel heat spreading through your cheeks.

Shaking your head lightly and looking down, you take a deep breath. “Have you heard that I fell from a horse this afternoon?” You're glad you got your brain to function, changing the subject. “Twisted my ankle.”

Ivar's stare falls to your bare feet on the bench, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your knee. “Mother told me it was someone else's doing.” As he speaks, Ivar gives an angry stare at where his two brothers are, and it's obvious who he's looking at. “But I think you'll survive.” You feel his fingers caressing your skin, from your knee and down through your calf, so softly you wonder if he's really touching you.

“I will.” You assure him, biting back a smile.

“Ivar,” Ragnar calls, and it does take a while until you both look at where he's standing, near the thrones. “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

“What now?” He asks, annoyed.

“I don't know. Go ask her.” And he disappears.

“Guess I'll have to go.” He glances at you, grabbing the clutch.

But before he can push himself up, you grab his arm. Perhaps you shouldn't do it. Perhaps this whole thing is just some kind of joke he's pulling on you, but still, the necklace is beautiful and he was... Kind. So you lean closer to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the gift. It's very beautiful.”

Ivar is frozen, even after you let go of his arm. He stands there, blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, painfully slow, a smile comes to his lips. And it feels different. True, genuine. “You're welcome, princess.” He whispers before pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.

You're still a little dazed when the rabbit stew comes, and you can do nothing but play with the spoon. But heavy footsteps get your attention, and when you look at your side, you catch a glimpse of a very angry Bjorn disappearing inside.

He saw everything. And it takes you by surprise to notice that, the moment you laid eyes on Ivar, you immediately forgot Bjorn and Ubbe were here. Everything just... Faded away, and there was nothing else, just you and him. And this is not the first time it happens.

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07

#ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #imagine ivar the boneless #viking imagine #imagine vikings #ivar vikings x reader #vikings x reader

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter five: italian leather gloves

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.0K

A/N: so the smut warnings start to go into effect in this chapter, guys! i can’t believe how many kind messages i’ve gotten about this story. please just know that i read every single one and i promise they all make me so happy. i really hope you guys like this chapter and i hope it answers some questions. of course i must thank the squad @ladyartemesia @taetaewonderland @ppersonna for being an amazing support system and kick ass beta readers. love you guys.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

****************

Everything hurts.

The moment you open your eyes, you wish you hadn’t. Late morning sun streams bright and unforgiving into your bedroom, making the ache in your temples even more pronounced. You spend a good ten minutes lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling and remembering everything that went wrong last night.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

Your punishment today -- apart from the pounding headache and sour stomach -- is that despite doing your very best to drink yourself to blackout, you remember every minute of last night in painstaking detail. There’s a cruel clarity to the way your mind replays the awkward dinner with your boss and the confrontation with Donghyuk.

And your fight with Hoseok.

Shame curls in your gut when you recall the nasty things you’d said to try and get a rise out of him. The nasty things he’d said in return when your goading finally worked.

“People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties.”

It’s not like you didn’t already know Hoseok saw you as some kind of entitled rich bitch -- but that didn’t make hearing the words spoken out loud any easier. It didn’t make the anger you provoked in him any less jarring.

And it didn’t make the moment he saw your scar any less humiliating.

That’s when you feel like you might be sick -- when you remember the way Hoseok went completely still at the sight of your damaged skin. The way he’d tried so hard to look like he wasn’t staring and failed.

You get out of bed and slip an oversized sweatshirt over your head, take a few deep breaths to try and calm the wobbling sensation in your stomach.

That’s when it hits you.

You don’t smell coffee.

****************************

Kim Seokjin looks like he’s made himself quite at home when you finally work up the nerve to leave your bedroom. He’s reclined deep into your couch, long legs propped up on your living room table, tablet in hand. He looks up from the screen to take in your bedraggled appearance with wide eyes.

“Rough night, huh?”

“Something like that,” you say quietly. You make your way to the kitchen in search of a glass of water and Seokjin stands up from the couch to follow you.

“Hoseok, uh --”, he pauses for a moment, rubs one hand across the back of his neck, “ -- said he needed a couple of days to take care of some personal stuff.”

You pour lukewarm water into a glass, take one tentative sip and say nothing.

“So you’re stuck with me,” Seokjin continues slowly, “For a little while, anyway.”

You stare into your glass, unwilling to meet Seokjin’s eyes. It shouldn’t surprise you one bit that Hoseok took off after what happened between you last night. It probably shouldn’t hurt either.

But it does.

The little water you’ve managed to get down feels like it might come right back up.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks after a long pause.

“No,” you admit. “I don’t feel good. Probably going to stay in bed for the day, so it’ll be a quiet one for you.”

Seokjin nods sympathetically.

“You know what’s good for when you’re feeling sick?” he asks. “Samgyetang. I found some in your fridge. It’s pretty good too, kinda --”

Your stomach lurches at the mention of that goddamned soup.

You leave Seokjin mid-sentence to retch in the privacy of your bathroom.

*****************************

The next time you open your eyes, it’s to complete darkness.

You wake disoriented, not sure if you’ve slept for hours or for days. The last thing you remember after getting sick was barely getting down some painkillers and a little more water before crawling back into bed.

Then it was lights out.

Physically, you feel better. The hammering headache is gone and the motion sickness is gone with it. But as you lie awake in the darkness, there’s no way to escape your tumultuous thoughts. The ones that keep going back to Hoseok and that fight.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to.”

No doubt the story of how you left the Gajog has been distorted over the years, passed between gossips in some twisted game of telephone. No doubt the story that’s told now is not about the scared teenager desperate for any semblance of stability; it’s about some spoiled little girl who decided she was too good for everyone else.

“People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

That was definitely the worst blow of the night, though.

There is just enough truth to that accusation to make it stick, to make it sting. You did walk away. You did leave your brother behind.

You run a hand through your hair and reach for your phone to check the time. 9:30 PM.

You feel almost human by the time you get out of the shower and walk out into the living room to find Seokjin dozing on the couch. You feel guilty for rousing him, but it’s his job. You know this is something you have to do right now.

“Jin,” you call out, nudging him gently. His eyes blink back, unfocused as he tries to get his bearings.

“Yeah?” he’s alert at once, looking around. “You okay?”

No, but I’m going to be.

“I’m alright. I need you to take me to see my brother.”

****************************

Namjoon has a beautiful penthouse on the water, a luxury apartment high above the Han River. But there’s no wife, no children waiting for him at home. Nothing in that place but echoing walls and modern art.

So he spends most of his nights at the office.

Seokjin called ahead, just in case -- but you knew your brother would be there. He’s still dressed in his suit, a tumbler of scotch in hand when you arrive. Seokjin doesn’t have to be asked to leave.

“You don’t look well, Amsaja,” he says quietly as you sit in the chair opposite his grand desk.

“You are not the first person to allude to that today,” you say with a humorless laugh. You look down at your giant sweatshirt and jeans, and shove a hand through your still-wet hair. “Message received.”

His eyes are soft with concern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you say, blowing out a heavy breath. “Everything. I just -- I just needed to see you.”

You were still a little girl when you learned the hard way that tears were futile and pointless and only served to make you a target. But you feel them welling in your eyes anyway. The reflex feels foreign and rusty after so many years of disuse.

“I’m so sorry, Namjoon,” you choke out, voice thick. “So, so sorry.”

Namjoon sets his tumbler down on the heavy wood of his desk, walks around it and over to you. When he gets down on one knee and reaches out a hand to brush your cheek you don’t see the grown man at the helm of Seoul’s largest criminal empire. You see the brother who took care of you when no one else would.

Despite your best efforts to stop them, the tears come anyway.

Namjoon holds you close, strokes your hair while you cry into the jacket of his expensive suit. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just waits for your body to stop shaking with the force of your sobs and for your breathing to even out.

“Why did you let me leave?” you ask once you’ve managed to regain some control. “Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

Namjoon sighs, standing to stretch his legs. He grabs his drink before walking over to the window to peer down at the lights streaking by below.

“One of us deserved to have a choice,” he says quietly. “It was never going to be me. I didn’t want the same for you.”

Your heart breaks all over again, hearing Namjoon say those words out loud. Your brother, born into a legacy he never asked for and a responsibility he could never run from. Your protector who let you walk away from the life he couldn’t escape.

“You saved me,” you whisper. “He would have killed me if I hadn’t left Seoul.”

“I know that,” Namjoon admits, “I saw it coming, too. The worse his drinking got -- I couldn’t let that happen. I refused to let that happen.”

You stand out of the chair to walk over to the window. Your brother’s profile is illuminated by the passing lights, mouth set in a grim line.

“You forced him to let me go.”

It’s not a question. Namjoon nods.

“I told him I would disappear if he didn’t let you leave. And then what? He’d have spent his entire life grooming me for nothing. He was just weak enough from the drinking to agree. He couldn’t fight me on it anymore.”

You shut your eyes against the fresh tears that come.

“I’ve been so selfish.”

“We’re all selfish, Amsaja,” he sighs. “We all want things we can’t have. That’s human nature.”

It makes your chest squeeze -- how desolate that admission sounds. You think about your brother’s massive, empty apartment. Who takes care of him? Who does he have to talk to? You swallow past the taste of guilt in your mouth.

“We could leave all of this behind, Jaegyueo. Start over. Make our own choices this time.”

Namjoon huffs a sad laugh into the rim of his glass.

“How I got here is not the point anymore,” he says. “You think if I dismantled this organization right now that all of this would just stop?”

He turns away from the window to look you in the eye.

“There would be ten syndicates ready to fill the hole we would leave overnight. And I promise you,” he shakes his head, “None of them would conduct business as neatly as we do. This organization keeps everything from going to shit. This is our way of balancing the scales.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look back out the window, out to the lights that make the city glow at this time of night. You know your brother is right.

This is his destiny.

“You talk about being selfish,” he continues quietly, “How’s this for selfish? No matter how much you’ve suffered in the past, I still want you here by my side. I still want you to come back.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“Namjoon, I --” He interrupts you with a raised hand.

“You don’t have to defend your stance. You have every right to leave this all behind you forever. Just know that you are the only person on this Earth that I trust without question.”

The ice in his scotch tinkles in the quiet of the office as he swirls the contents of the glass.

“Just know that there is a part of me that will always be waiting for you to come back.”

*********************

HOSEOK

Hoseok had to get out of there.

He had to put space between you and him or he was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully, Seokjin didn’t ask too many questions when he’d phoned in the middle of the night asking to be relieved for a few days. Seokjin didn’t press too hard when he asked about how you were doing and Hoseok nearly took his head off. And Seokjin hasn’t asked why Hoseok is texting him every day to make sure you’re alright.

Sometimes -- rarely -- Seokjin knows exactly when to shut the fuck up.

Hoseok knows he should be using this time to get his shit together.

He knows he’s this close to doing something stupid. He knows he’s got to figure out a way to release the pressure building inside of him before he explodes.

He thinks about how satisfying it would be to put his fist through Kang Donghyuk’s face.

He stares down the stone-and-glass entrance to Kang’s apartment from the driver’s seat of his car, one hand tight around the steering wheel. He tightens his grip on the wheel and loosens it, over and over and over.

A call comes through.

“Hey, it’s Jimin.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says flatly, eyes never leaving the entrance to that apartment building. “What’s up?”

“I already briefed Namjoon but he wanted me to call you, too. We finally got a hit on Lee Hyejin.”

Hoseok sits up straighter in his seat.

“What did you find?”

“We got access to her accounts. Regular payments, every two weeks -- coming through an offshore wire. Started about three months ago.”

“Shit,” Hoseok says under his breath. “A Ssijog account?”

“We’re still working on confirming that -- but yeah, like 99% sure.”

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face.

Who gets to break the news to you that your only friend has been fucking with your case -- fucking with your entire life? He thinks back to how blank and despondent you’d looked the night of the snake incident, how withdrawn you’d been the night of the charity dinner.

How much more of this pressure can you withstand before you explode?

“What about the guy?” Jimin asks, after the line is silent for too long. “Any news on him?”

“Not yet,” Hoseok murmurs, tightening his grip around the wheel again. “But it’s coming. I know it’s coming.”

“Okay. Tae is still trying to get a complete list of accounts linked to that offshore one. If we find out more, I’ll make sure you know right away.”

Hoseok ends the call just as another call comes in.

He takes one look at the screen and rubs his fingers across his tired eyes before sending it to voicemail.

He knows he could have handled the situation with Dae with more care. He knows he could have done more than end their casual arrangement with one call. Dae had been furious, demanding he give her some kind of explanation so she could understand why it was over.

Hoseok hadn’t been lying to her when he said he didn’t know why.

But as he sits in the dark -- staring at the entrance of Kang Donghyuk’s apartment building -- he considers for a moment that he might have been lying to himself.

His phone rings again.

“Jung,” Namjoon’s voice comes over the line. “You in the middle of something?”

“Nah,” Hoseok lies easily. “Just relaxing. What’s up?”

“Come have a drink with me.”

*********************

It’s nearly midnight by the time Hoseok makes it across town.

Namjoon appears to be in a contemplative mood tonight, glass of scotch in hand, long body leaned back into his plush chair.

“You’re off-duty tonight,” Namjoon says, taking a sip of his drink. “Scotch?”

Hoseok makes a face.

“Definitely not. Have any whiskey?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got a bottle around here somewhere.”

Namjoon picks up his desk phone to reach his assistant, who makes quick work of finding a bottle and a clean glass. She delivers both with practiced silence before slipping out of the room.

Hoseok can’t help but notice his boss’s gaze lingering on the pretty young woman as she retreats. He keeps his mouth shut because he’s not an idiot.

Once he has a tumbler of whiskey in hand, Hoseok leans back into his own chair, undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“Something specific you want to talk about?” he asks, sipping his drink.

“Just checking in,” Namjoon says quietly. “I’ve barely seen you these past few weeks. Want to make sure everything’s alright where you’re concerned.”

“I’m fine,” Hoseok says. “Jimin called me about the shit he found on the Lee girl, though.”

“Yeah. I don’t think my sister’s going to take that news well,” Namjoon murmurs. “She’s not exactly the trusting type. A betrayal like this -- ”

He trails off, abandoning one thought for another.

“Does she talk to you?”

Hoseok clears his throat.

He tries not to think about the last time he saw you and the terrible things you’d said to one another. He tries not to remember the look on your face before you turned away from him.

“Not really. Keeps to herself a lot.”

“Yeah, well. She’s had to put up with a lot of shit over the years,” Namjoon admits, rubbing his fingers across his lips. “She keeps things close to the vest.”

Hoseok sags deeper into the plush chair and takes a drink, welcomes the burn that comes with it. He already knows Namjoon is not looking for some kind of dialogue tonight. Namjoon is looking to unload.

Hoseok keeps quiet and lets him do just that.

“My sister has been punished for things beyond her control since the day she was born,” he continues. “My role was clear from day one and hers much less so. My father was too ignorant to figure out how to raise a little girl without a mother and too disinterested to even ask for help.”

Hoseok’s fingers tighten around his glass.

“She spent half her time trying to get his attention and the other half regretting when she finally did.”

The image of that scar comes into Hoseok’s mind, unbidden. The jagged lines of it, the deep indent of it. All of the tiny details that speak to the brutality behind the wound.

“He hurt her,” Hoseok says quietly, looking past Namjoon to stare out into lights outside the window.

“A thousand different ways,” Namjoon sighs, shoving a hand through his hair. “I did what I could, but I couldn’t keep her from all of it.”

The ice in his glass tinkles as he empties his drink.

“I know what people say about my sister, Hoseok,” Namjoon exhales. “None of them know what they’re talking about. She was going to be damned either way. She did what she had to do to survive.”

Hoseok swallows the last of his whiskey around the knot in his throat.

************************

He almost took the night off.

Hoseok’s body could have used the rest, and his mind certainly could have, too. But every time he closes his eyes he sees you, hears your brother’s words.

The pressure inside him keeps building.

He woke up this morning thinking about that photograph inside Namjoon’s desk -- the one taken inside your apartment. The one taken while you were sleeping and at your most vulnerable, inside your own home.

Every cell in Hoseok’s body is telling him that Kang Donghyuk took that picture.

That’s why he’s in his car tonight, following Kang home from the office again. That’s why he’s pulled into a space just outside the man’s high-dollar highrise prepared for another night of waiting and watching.

Fuck, he’ll do it every night until he gets the answers he’s looking for.

A call comes in from Seokjin.

“Hey,” Hoseok answers on the first ring. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin sighs. “Quiet. She’s busy working in her room or something. Why do I have the feeling you’re not at your place taking the personal time you said you needed?”

“Mind your business,” Hoseok mutters.

Seokjin laughs.

“Honestly, I just called because I’m bored. Wondering if you ever plan on coming back to your post. I’m going out of -- “

“-- Shit,” Hoseok interrupts, sitting up straight in his seat. “I gotta go.”

He ends the call before Seokjin can ask why.

Hoseok squints against the dark when he sees Kang Donghyuk walk out of the entrance to his building. Kang stands on the curb, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. Even from a distance, Hoseok can see he’s looking up and down the street.

He’s waiting for someone.

Hoseok’s entire body is tense as he watches a sleek silver car pull up outside the building’s entrance and Kang slip into the passenger seat. The car takes off and Hoseok’s pulse picks up.

This is it.

He waits until the sedan is a few hundred feet ahead to pull out into the street. He’s careful to keep pace with the surrounding traffic so he doesn’t give himself away. And after a short drive, the silver car parks outside a run-down warehouse in one of the shittier parts of the city.

Hoseok pulls into a dark space, cuts the ignition and hides the bright display of his phone.

He watches Kang Donghyuk get out of the passenger seat, followed by the driver of the car. A man Hoseok recognizes as Ssijog right away. The men have a short conversation in the street before disappearing into the warehouse.

Hoseok’s hand tightens around the steering wheel, then loosens. Again and again and again.

He knows the protocol. He knows he should have called this in five minutes ago.

He hasn’t.

He won’t.

Instead, he reaches into the console to pull out his favorite pair of Italian leather gloves.

*************************

Dressing the part has always served Hoseok well, even in this line of work.

Tonight -- his meticulously chosen suit and tie are his ticket inside Kang Donghyuk’s secure high-rise apartment building. Hoseok walks right past the security guard on duty so casually that the man barely looks in his direction.

It takes him only a few minutes to find the door to Kang’s apartment and the entrance to the service elevator nearby. Hoseok stands back into the recess and balls his hands into fists. He concentrates on the stretch of his leather gloves.

Then he waits.

Kang Donghyuk doesn’t keep him waiting long.

Just a short while later, he’s at his apartment door, fumbling with his keys. Hoseok waits until he nudges the door open before making his approach.

One firm hand to the back of the neck and one firm shove is all it takes.

Kang Donghyuk falls through the entrance to his apartment just as Hoseok is closing the door behind him. He rolls onto his back on the floor, eyes wide and sputtering.

“What the fuck man?”

Hoseok doesn’t bother to answer that.

He pulls out his pistol and points the barrel at the cowering man. Kang’s pupils blow wide and Hoseok feels a pulse of satisfaction at his obvious fear.

“Start talking,” Hoseok says, voice low and controlled.

“About what?” Kang squeaks -- voice slipping out an octave too high.

Hoseok clicks the pistol’s safety into place and off again just to ensure Kang hears the sound. The coward reacts immediately, covering his face with his hands.

“Alright man, I’ll talk. Just chill -- “ he wheezes. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“I need to know everything, Kang,” Hoseok says between clenched teeth. “Start fucking talking.”

Donghyuk sits up slowly, hands raised and eyes fixed on Hoseok.

“They came to me a few months back. All they said is they wanted her to fuck up the case. That’s all, I swear.”

There’s no feeling of satisfaction for Hoseok when he hears the words spoken aloud. There’s no victory in confirming the guy he thought was a piece of shit all along is actually a piece of shit.

The pressure inside him continues to build.

“You’re working with the Lee girl?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits miserably, eyes unmoving from the barrel of Hoseok’s gun. “She would help me make copies of her keys and shit. She knew where the important files were, too. I mostly had to keep her out of the apartment when they needed to get in and -- ” he clears his throat, “ -- other stuff.”

Hoseok sees red.

Fury ignites inside of him at the innuendo packed into those two short words. His pistol seems to warm in his hand.

“You took that picture,” he whispers, finger tightening around the trigger. Donghyuk winces, swallows so hard Hoseok can see his Adam's apple jump in his throat.

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits, curling in on himself. “They asked me to.”

Hoseok turns the gun in his hand so fast Donghyuk barely has the time to put his hands over his face again. He cracks the butt of his pistol against the side of Donghyuk’s skull and the man whimpers as he rolls over in pain.

The pistol whip should have been enough to take the edge off of Hoseok’s rage.

But it’s not enough.

He holsters his gun and Donghyuk stares up at him from the floor, terrified.

“Get up,” Hoseok hisses.

Blood has started to seep from a gash on the side of Donghyuk’s head but the man complies. He stumbles to his feet just in time for Hoseok to take him off balance again. He wraps one hand around the man’s throat and squeezes tight, pushing him back against a wall.

Donghyuk’s eyes bulge as Hoseok pins him to the wall with that hand.

“Never, ever --” Hoseok spits the words, grip crushing the man’s neck, “-- go near her again. Do you understand me? That’s not something I have to repeat even for someone as stupid as you, right?”

Donghyuk’s face is mottled, features frozen in fear as he attempts to nod his agreement.

Hoseok tightens his grip and the man starts to turn a satisfying shade of red. The color deepens as Hoseok squeezes harder and all he can think about is how easy it would be to end him, how just a few more seconds of this pressure could cause his windpipe to collapse. How one more hard press of his fingers could solve the problem of Kang Donghyuk forever.

But protocol.

Hoseok finally releases his grip on the man’s throat and Kang immediately slumps down the wall, into a pile on the floor. He gasps, hands clutched to his chest as he fights to regain his breath.

Hosok stands back, straightening his coat and adjusting his jacket underneath.

He gives Kang Donghyuk one last glance before walking to the door.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns quietly. “I’d hate to have to pay you another visit.”

Hoseok waits for the door to click closed before pulling out his phone to call Namjoon in the quiet of the hallway. He’s a little breathless when his boss picks up on the first ring.

“Regarding Kang Donghyuk,” he murmurs. “There’s been a development.”

**********************

Namjoon’s call comes late the next afternoon.

“Hey,” Hoseok breathes into the receiver, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear. He drops his hand back into the bowl of ice water at his side. “What’s up?”

“I need you to come in,” his boss says evenly. “So we can discuss next steps.”

“Be there in ten.”

It’s a little pathetic, the way Hoseok perks up at having somewhere to be.

Even meeting with his boss to explain how he broke protocol and nearly choked a man to death beats sitting in his apartment, icing his sore hand. It sure as hell beats sitting on his couch, staring at the TV and trying not to think about you.

Namjoon takes the news of Kang’s involvement and Hoseok’s insubordination surprisingly well.

He’d listened to Hoseok’s account of how he’d tracked Kang to the warehouse and ambushed him outside his apartment with quiet calm. Maybe it’s his imagination, but Hoseok could swear he almost saw Namjoon smile when he described pistol-whipping Kang inside his apartment.

Yoongi -- pragmatic as ever -- laid the options out plainly.

He argued that the Gajog could get rid of either Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk, but not both. Killing both, Yoongi reasoned, would put an entirely different kind of target on your back. Both Hoseok and Namjoon agreed with that assessment. Yoongi has always had a mind for strategy, even if his delivery leaves a bit to be desired.

Namjoon promised to think over the options before dismissing them both.

*************************

Hoseok’s hand still aches.

He’s been driving around the city for more than an hour now, not ready to go home and not certain which move to make next. Each turn of his steering wheel sends a throb of discomfort through his grip.

Fucking up Kang Donghyuk was satisfying, no doubt. But it’s not enough.

Hoseok doesn’t feel the sense of relief he’d expected to enjoy after choking that man to within an inch of his life. There’s still a dull ache inside his chest too insistent to ignore.

He tries to focus on the street signs that come and go, the traffic lights that glow against the backdrop of the setting sun. He drives until the night takes over completely and then he drives until he parks outside of your place.

When Hoseok cuts the ignition, it’s like he’s just come out of a fog. He looks up at your high-rise and takes a deep breath before climbing out of the car.

******************

Seokjin’s bag must have already been packed.

After a quick debrief he’s out the door in seconds, leaving Hoseok alone inside the quiet apartment. He sinks down onto the couch and stares at your closed bedroom door.

He should knock, he thinks to himself.

He should get the apology sitting on the tip of his tongue out of the way so the two of you can move forward from what happened the other night. He should apologize for the way he’s treated you and he should beg for your forgiveness.

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face before resolving to do just that -- at the same time your bedroom door opens. He watches you walk to the kitchen without so much as a glance in his direction and then he hears the sound of running water.

He follows you.

Hoseok worries for a split-second that you might drop the glass in your hand when you finally spot him.

“Oh,” you breathe, “It’s you.”

Hoseok thought the last time he’d seen you -- when you’d worn that incredible gown and pulled out every stop -- he thought that was the most beautiful you’d ever looked. But somehow that pales in comparison to how you look right now, figure swimming in an oversized sweatshirt, hair loose and framing your bare face. He can’t even bring himself to look lower because you’re wearing those godforsaken shorts. Has Seokjin seen you in those things?

His brain derails and it takes a moment to get back on track.

“Sorry,” he says slowly. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m back now.”

“Okay,” you exhale, setting your glass of water down.

“I’m sorry.”

Hoseok had planned on saying something a bit more heartfelt, something with a bit more depth. He had not intended on blurting out his apology the moment he saw you.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” you say softly. “I don’t want your pity or anyone else’s.”

Hoseok steps closer and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, a nervous gesture.

“That’s not what I said,” he insists, shaking his head. “I’m not sorry for you, I’m sorry for me. I’m sorry because I’m a fucking jerk.”

You blink back at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry -- ” Hoseok takes another step forward, “ -- that you have to put up with assholes like me who think they know everything about you when they really don’t know anything.”

Hoseok ignores the voice inside his head warning him not to press you too hard, not to take this too far.

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay,” he vows, stepping even closer.

You lean back against the heavy stone of your kitchen island, eyes wide.

“And fuck -- ” Hoseok practically chokes the words out, “-- fuck, I am so sorry for wanting you as badly as I do when I know I have no right.”

There is a moment after those words tumble out when Hoseok thinks he may have just fucked everything up for good. A moment when your mouth drops open but you say nothing and Hoseok is certain you’re going to make him leave.

But you don’t.

So he kisses you.

Hoseok swallows the sound of surprise you make when he slants his lips over yours. You reach your hands around his neck to pull him closer and go up on your tiptoes to make up for the difference in height. Hoseok groans into your mouth when your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

Any moment now -- any moment now he’s certain you’re going to come to your senses. You’re going to demand he take his filthy fucking hands off of you. He braces for it.

But you don’t.

Instead, you melt into his touch and whimper into his mouth and what’s left of Hoseok’s sanity evaporates. The sounds of panting and groaning echo off of the stone in the kitchen as you meld your body to his.

“I want you so much,” he whispers, gripping your waist to lift you onto the counter.

It’s easy to ignore the way his hand aches in protest when you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and sinking your fingers into his hair. His cock is so hard in his pants he feels like he might explode.

You pull away from him, breathless, to lift your sweatshirt over your head and Hoseok’s chest tightens at the flash of doubt that crosses your features. The heat that creeps into your cheeks when your scar is bared and on display.

He leans close to brush feather-light kisses against it, lips soft against the rough skin. “Every inch of you is perfect,” he whispers, sucking gently at the indent in your collarbone. “Just the way it is.”

You suck in a sharp breath and release it with a strangled sigh as your fingers grip the back of Hoseok’s neck. He trails kisses from your scar, slowly down your breast, onto one aching nipple.

“Hoseok -- please,” you beg. “I want -- “

Your plea breaks apart he takes your nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing at the straining bud.

“Tell me what you want,” Hoseok murmurs, burying his face into the soft skin between your breasts, “Tell me and I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

Your fingers fumble for his belt and Hoseok groans when you work it apart. There’s no way he’s ever been this hard -- ever. He’s certain he could come just from rutting against the counter with your voice in his ear.

“Hoseok,” you whisper again. “Hoseok -- “

He doesn’t catch on to the panic in your tone until you go rigid in his arms.

“There’s someone at the door,” you whisper, eyes wide.

“Shit.”

Hoseok shuts his eyes, leans his forehead against yours.

You slip out of his hold and he leans over the kitchen counter, arms braced against the stone while he tries to collect the last remaining scraps of his self-control. You pull your sweatshirt back overhead and run quietly to the door.

You’re back only a moment later.

“It’s my brother,” you whisper. “And Yoongi and some guy I don’t know.”

Holy shit.

Hoseok grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, and silently wills his rigid cock to stand down. Thinking about Kim Namjoon’s face on the other side of that door helps, actually. It helps a lot.

The door knocker thuds again loudly and Hoseok can hear Namjoon’s voice coming from the hallway. You wait until he’s managed to straighten his shirt and secure his belt before opening the door.

He can see your brother’s frown from ten feet away.

“Hoseok should really be the one to answer the door, Amsaja,” he says, eyes narrowed. “Is he not here?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hoseok calls out, hoping like hell that his voice sounds even. “Sorry. I was just -- uh, in the middle of something.”

Actually, I was trying to be in the middle of something. That something being your sister. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?

Yoongi looks between you and Hoseok and Namjoon but says nothing.

“So what’s going on?” Hoseok asks, desperate to move the conversation along. “Something wrong?”

“Jeon is going to stay over tonight,” Namjoon says, pointing to the youngest man on his team. Jungkook walks into the apartment and bows to you before taking a seat on the couch.

Namjoon nods at Yoongi before turning to Hoseok.

“The three of us have somewhere to be.”

**********************

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