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nyanashima · 1 year

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The Nowdateables (+ Luke) Crying & How to Comfort Them

I felt like such a monster for writing Luke's lmao. I'm so sorry kiddo.

Trigger warnings below and in the tags, please let me know if I missed any.

Content warning: alcohol mention in Solomon's, self harm mention in Dia's and Barb's. None of them deal with their emotions in a healthy way.

Diavolo

I miss my dad

As acting ruler of the Devildom, and with so many people relying on him, Diavolo can’t exactly express his emotions freely.

That, and considering his upbringing, I’d be willing to bet he wasn’t allowed to cry growing up. No matter what, this man has his feelings under lock and key.

However, all that pressure has to go somewhere. This usually appears in the form of stress-crying.

Sometimes, when it’s late at night and the stacks of paperwork loom too high, he finds himself fighting tears. The tears usually win.

He keeps signing, though. He fills out form after form as the drops splatter on the desk below him. Barbatos pretends not to see the little warped patches of paper as he files documents.

Diavolo only really stops if he starts to fully weep. He wraps one arm around his body, using the other hand to muffle his cries. Hunched over his desk, he bites down on his fist. Anything to dampen the sound. Anything to distract him, because the sooner he stops, the sooner he can get back to work.

Regardless of Dia’s efforts, Barbatos hears everything. For the next few days, he gives him some much-needed space and tries to clear his schedule a little.

The only person that has seen him like this is Barbatos, whom he has known for millennia. If Diavolo cries in your presence, he is essentially giving himself to you; his body and spirit are yours, so treat them well.

How to comfort him: This man hasn’t been consoled in centuries. He appreciates closeness, so sit near him, or even in his lap if you're so inclined. He’ll wrap his arms around you and hold you like his life depends on it. Rub circles on his back, murmur sweet nothings, dry his tears. Tell him how proud of him you are. Please be tender with him, he’s so delicate.

Barbatos

Haha

Good fucking luck catching this guy crying

If Lucifer has his emotions on a tight leash, Barbatos has his in a cage.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he breaks down after a hard day.

He keeps his composure very well. Few are able to see the cracks, but they’re there if you look. A fork askew on the dining room table, delayed reactions in conversation, walking a little slower than usual… Things like these are telltale signs that Barbatos is at his limit.

He’s all smiles until he goes to bed. Barbatos often retires late, well after he’s ensured that everyone’s asleep.

After he’s accomplished all he’s set out to, he locks himself in his room. He presses his back to the wall and slides down, breathing shaky and barely contained. Hot tears start to flow, and loud sobs shake his very core. Barb curls in on himself, trying to be as small as possible. On particularly rough nights, he’ll pull his hair to distract himself from the torment.

How to comfort him: If you’re close enough to comfort him, you’re close enough to see his full self. He grips onto you desperately, nearly stretching the back of your shirt with how tightly he’s holding it. Throws his head into your shoulder and wraps himself around you completely. His demon form will come out, his tail binding your waist. Trace patterns on his back, and drag your fingers along his shoulder blades. Pepper soft kisses wherever you can reach, if you feel comfortable. Let him ride it out, and be tender with him afterwards. Devil knows he needs it.

Solomon

Solomon doesn’t cry that much. It’s not that he holds it in, he just doesn’t feel the need to.

For the most part, he’s usually in a state of general contentment. His emotions don’t sway too far one way or the other.

However, alcohol can get the better of him if he’s not careful. Solomon is at his most vulnerable when he’s drunk.

He gets into his own head. He thinks about all the people he swore to never forget, that are only blurs in his memory at most. All of the laughter and love he once shared, now lost to the sands of time. It’s not easy, being immortal.

He sits, slumped against the wall or the back of a chair, completely in his own little world. Teardrops gather at his chin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Once you snap him out of it, he smiles softly and sniffles.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, MC?”

How to comfort him: Rarely one to rely on others, Solomon touches you as much as he needs. Sometimes it’s just holding hands while sitting next to you, others it’s a lean with his head on your shoulder. This mostly depends on how drunk he is. Rub circles onto his hand with your thumb, wrap an arm around him if he’s leaning and rub his shoulder, and listen to him ramble. He’ll thank you in the morning. In the months after this, he starts taking more photos with you.

Simeon

Simeon starts to cry before he has the chance to blink back his tears.

May try to excuse himself depending on the situation. Sometimes he can just brush them off and cry about it later, but others, it’s happening right now.

His desk is truly his safe space. Whether he’s frustrated with writing, or simply needs a comfy chair to cry in, that’s always where he goes. Cradling his head in his hands, Simeon watches his sorrows from a shallow pool on the lacquer beneath him.

He’s mostly sniffles and quiet, breathy sobs. If he’s not trying to hide, he allows himself to choke and gasp and really cry.

Ideally, he likes to wait until the wee hours of the morning. He locks the door and tries to muffle himself with his hand, to prevent disturbing others or being disturbed himself.

Simeon’s a tough case. He wants to let people in, but he feels uncomfortable being consoled. As an angel, it's been drilled into his head that his purpose is to make the lives of others easier. When he needs a helping hand, it feels like a burden. Deep down, he knows he can perform better if he accepts help, and that he deserves help, but he still tries to brush it off and help you with something.

The first time you’re there for him, he feels more love than he ever got from the realm above.

How to comfort him: Hug him, let him bury his head in the crook of your neck. Rub his back, kiss his shoulder, tell him it’s alright and that it’s all gonna be okay. He just wants to hear your voice, really— the best thing when he’s crying is for him to soak in your presence.

Luke

Luke is an empathetic crier. If anyone near him is upset, the waterworks start automatically (yes, this includes demons, though he’ll never admit it).

Has already adopted the belief that showing emotion is weakness, and therefore a burden. He sniffles and tries to hide it, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

That being said, he’s still a kid. He can’t hold it in as well as an adult, so there will be times where it all comes pouring out.

When he’s upset, Luke will cling to Simeon’s arm. This is usually the cue for Simeon to pull him aside to somewhere private and help him work through his feelings.

How to comfort him: Hold him, kiss his head, rub his back and rock with him. Let him be a kid for once. Let him know it’s okay. If you’re not comfortable with that or just not a fan of kids, give him a glass of water— it’ll rehydrate him and distract him enough to stop the crying.

#tw sh mention #sh mention #tw alchohol mention #tw alcohol #tw drunk #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me angst #diavolo obey me #barbatos obey me #simeon obey me #obey me simeon #luke obey me #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me undateables #obey me nowdateables

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grapenehifics · 11 months

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I was listening to Never too Much by Luther vandross tonight while washing dishes, and that song gives me the biggest solsbury hill vibes. It's such a great song and I feel like anakin and obi wan would appreciate it, what with their great taste in music. I feel like anakin would also listen to it while washing dishes and dance super ridiculous and shake his ass and they would get handsy in the kitchen. Lol the thought burrowed into my brain and I had to share 😆

"Kitchen," Ahsoka mouthed, pointing to the room in question, when Obi-Wan emerged from the bedroom, his hair askew. He'd had such a pounding headache after work that he'd immediately come home, changed into sweatpants, turned off all the lights and laid down. He'd also set an alarm, because he knew if he napped for too long it would throw off his sleep schedule, and he hadn't wanted to miss dinner, but when he did turn the corner into the kitchen he saw he had, in fact, missed dinner, because there was a foil-covered plate on the counter and Anakin was up to his wrist in soapy dishwater.

He also had no idea Obi-Wan had come up behind him. "Never too much, never too much, never too much," he sang, swaying his hips in time with the song playing through his phone speakers.

Obi-Wan swatted him on the ass to let him know he was there. "Disco, Anakin, really?" he said mildly, lifting the corner of the tin foil.

"It's not disco. Hey, come here." Anakin dumped a wet set of measuring spoons back into the sink and looped his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "How's your head?"

Obi-Wan let himself be tugged over to the sink and trapped between Anakin's biceps, Anakin's chest pressing against his back. "Better," he admitted. "I'm sorry I" -

"Nope," Anakin said firmly, and he shifted his hand down and squeezed Obi-Wan around the waist. Obi-Wan was glad he'd changed out of his work clothes, because Anakin was dripping dish soap onto both them and the floor. "Don't be sorry for taking care of yourself." He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's cheek. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Obi-Wan leaned back against Anakin's chest and shut his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy being held. "You make dinner and I do the dishes, though. That was our deal."

"Your deal, maybe," Anakin huffed, and he shifted a little so he could kiss Obi-Wan on the mouth, this time, and at the same time slipped his wet hand up under Obi-Wan's t-shirt and laid it on his stomach. "I volunteered so that Ahsoka could keep working on her homework."

"Ahsoka's on the phone with Barriss," Obi-Wan said, and kissed him back.

"Goddamnit," Anakin swore, his hand stilling from where it had been running up and down Obi-Wan's side. Obi-Wan was going to have to put this shirt in the dirty clothes hamper, he knew, and also it was worth it.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin shouted, turning his head so that he wasn't bellowing directly into Obi-Wan's ear. "You said you had homework to do! Get off the phone!"

"We are talking about homework!" Ahsoka shouted back.

"Could we maybe all talk to each other while in the same room, instead of yelling, perhaps?" Obi-Wan requested with a wince. He'd said his headache was better, not that it was totally gone.

"Are you two planning on touching each other's butts, sometime in the next five minutes?"

"Absolutely," Anakin muttered against Obi-Wan's ear, and immediately slid his hand back and down and grabbed a handful of Obi-Wan's ass.

"Then no, I'm not coming in there," Ahsoka said firmly, and went back to her phone call.

"Oh, damn, my song ended," Anakin said. He was now planting tiny kisses up and down Obi-Wan's neck. "Press play again, babe. I was enjoying that."

Of the two of them, Obi-Wan did have the drier hands. He unlocked Anakin's phone screen and pressed replay.

"There's not a minute, hour, day or night that I don't love you," Anakin sang softly. "You're at the top of my list 'cause I'm always thinking of you."

"You...know a lot of words to this song," Obi-Wan said, surprised, tilting his head. If Anakin wanted to nibble on his neck, Obi-Wan wasn't planning on stopping him.

"I know all the words to this song," Anakin admitted proudly. "It's about you, dumbass."

"Is it?"

"Yeah." Anakin straightened up, took Obi-Wan by the hip again, and spun him around, so now they were facing each other. "Listen to this." He wiped his index finger off on Obi-Wan's shirt so he could use it to back the song up a few verses. "I still remember in the days I was scared to touch you, how I spent my days dreaming how to say I love you, you must have known I had feelings deep enough to swim in, that's when you opened up your heart and told me to come in," he sang, totally covering up the actual song coming through the speakers, but that was all right, Obi-Wan would rather listen to Anakin serenade him any day (even if he was slightly sharp).

"That is nice," he admitted, draping his arms over Anakin's shoulders.

Anakin kept singing, and he tucked Obi-Wan's hips tightly against his with an arm firmly around his waist. "Oh, my love, a thousand kisses from you is never too much," and then he lost the lyrics for a few minutes while he attempted to give Obi-Wan what did seem like one thousand kisses, all in a row. They only broke apart because Obi-Wan was laughing too hard, which in turn made Anakin snicker.

He pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan's, looked him in the eyes, and sang, "Love is a gamble and I'm so glad I'm winning; we've come a long way and yet this is" -

Obi-Wan was enjoying the moment and didn't want to cut him off, but he was also going to spontaneously combust and burn out of his skin if he didn't kiss his husband right that very minute. He cupped Anakin's jaw in his hands and kissed him, hard, stealing the next verse out of his mouth.

"I wasn't done," Anakin complained when Obi-Wan pulled back, but then he licked his lip, which he well knew drove Obi-Wan absolutely crazy, so Obi-Wan kissed him again. The song ended for a second time.

"There's...this whole part...about how a million days...in your arms...is never too much," Anakin gasped out, between kisses.

"Sounds great," Obi-Wan said, and now he was the one with both his hands pushing up underneath Anakin's t-shirt.

"Do we have any orange juice?" Ahsoka asked, edging around them to open the refrigerator, her phone still in her hand.

"No," her parents both lied. Obi-Wan knew he'd been the one who had asked her to come into the kitchen earlier, but right now he wanted nothing so much as for her to leave, so he could grab Anakin by the waist, lift him up onto the counter beside the stack of drying plates, and slip between his thighs.

Ahsoka sighed and shut the fridge. "Sorry, Barriss, my dads are being gross again," she said into the phone. To Obi-Wan and Anakin she said, "You two know you have a bedroom, now, right?"

"I haven't finished washing the dishes yet," Anakin said, pointing to the sink full of dirty dishes. Obi-Wan looked behind him in surprise. He'd managed to forget all about why they were in the kitchen in the first place. His dinner plate was still cooling on the counter.

Ahsoka sighed again. "Barriss, I'm going to have to call you back," she said into the phone, then ended the call. "I will wash the dishes for you," she snapped, pulling the dishtowel off Anakin's shoulder and throwing it over her own, "if you two will go in your own room and stop making kissing noises so loud my friends can you hear you."

"Deal," Obi-Wan said, before Anakin could respond, and lifted him by the thighs until Anakin was settled comfortably, if heavily, around his waist. "Get your phone," he reminded him, and Anakin snatched his phone up with his hand while locking his ankles at the small of Obi-Wan's back. "You can play me the rest of the song to cover up our kissing noises."

"Is Luther Vandross still alive?" Ahsoka muttered darkly at the sink as Obi-Wan carried Anakin to their bedroom. "Because if he is, I'm gonna kill him."

#solsbury hill #obikin #disaster lineage

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diegodog2002 · 2 years

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Edward Scissorhands

This week did not start out very will for me, my boyfriend (let’s call him Edward), of many years decided it was time for him to go find himself. I told him if he does find himself he should fuck himself also. Needless to say, he become quite angry and he must have thought it would be a good idea to take his aggressions out on my belongings. Before he left (for good), he decided to take his revenge. I usually worked from home, and Edward knew my daily schedule. He knew when I would be going out, and how long I would be gone. When I got home from food shopping, I knew something was wrong. Things were missing, broken, and askew. I thought it best to look and see what was missing, broken, or anything else before I called the police to report it. I realized it had to have been Edward because the things that were missing were of a sentimental value or an item we had bought together. Nothing of great value was missing. As I completed my inventory, I went into the bedroom closet. It looked as though Edward Scissorhands had been in the closet. Everything was shredded! The only thing left was a very old suit, which was tossed in a heap on the floor in the back corner of the closet, and one lonely white shirt still hanging up. The only reason I saw the suit, was because his clothes were all gone, and there was FINALLY room for my clothes, if I had any left! Any way I digress. I gathered the remnants of my suits, shirts, jeans, and everything else that had been shredded and tossed them out. It was early enough in the day, so I took my old rumpled suit to the cleaners to be pressed. I went through the jacket pockets, and much to my surprise, I found a tie in one of them! Great, I am all set for work in the morning. I had to go into the office in the morning to close a very lucrative deal, and needed to look professional. I got my suit and tie back in a couple of hours from the cleaners, and they looked pretty good.

The next morning I got up and did the 3 s’es, and then ate a light breakfast. Now it was time to get dressed. I went into my dresser drawer, and discovered all my underwear and tee shirts had been shredded by Edward Scissorhands! There was no way I could wear any of them. The tee shirts were all cut in quarters once from the bottom hem up and through the collar, and then cut in half across the mid section of the tee shirt. My briefs were also cut in quarters, once from the crotch up and through the waist band, and then again across the middle, making sure the leg openings had been cut. Edward must have had plenty of time when he did this, because everything had been re-folded in a way that I would never have noticed anything was wrong with them until I picked them up, and found I only had a portion of them in my hand. I discovered one pair of boxer shorts I bought for Edward many years ago as a gag gift was still intact. They were black silk boxers with big yellow smiley faces all over them. They really were quite ugly, and stupid looking. There was a note attached to them that read ‘Now I am’. I took this to mean now he was smiling. As far as sizes go, I was a bigger than he was, but I decided to wear them anyway. I needed a clean pair of underwear. No one was going to see them, and I knew I would have to get some new clothes immediately after work. They were a lot snugger, actually I should say tighter than I expected. Thank goodness there was a button on the fly to keep them closed in the front! The poor button was straining to keep me corralled in the boxers. I would have to forgo wearing a tee shirt today, because there were none left! Into the next drawer I went to retrieve a pair of socks. Well guess what, Edward Scissorhands had been there also! Every pair of socks had been sliced open from the top down through the toe. It was getting late, and there was no time to rinse out my socks and underwear from yesterday. I needed a belt; there were no belts to be found anywhere either in the closet or in my dresser drawers. I could not wear the one I had on yesterday, because it was too wide, and would not fit the belt loops of my suit slacks. Shoes, a miracle occurred; Edward Scissorhands did not attack them! I got dressed the best I could, for a very important and lucrative meeting under the least ideal circumstances; an old suit, underwear too tight, no tee shirt, no socks, and no belt for my slacks.

I got to the office early and had time to walk around the neighborhood to collect my thoughts for the meeting. While walking, a football sailed by me, and came to rest in the gutter of the street. Then I heard some teenagers yell from the other side of the park fence asking me to throw the ball back to them. No problem I said. I went to the gutter, and crouched down carefully (remembering that my suit was old, and the stitching or the fabric was probably not in the best of condition). As careful as I was, I heard that unmistakable sound, and felt that unmistakable feeling. RRRIIIIIPPPP! I scooped up the football as fast as possible, and tossed it over the fence to the teens. Then I started to investigate the rip. I ran my hands up and down the back seam and ass of my slacks, and felt nothing! No rip there! I looked at the inseams and crotch of my slacks, nothing wrong there; checked the zipper, everything was still intact. It dawned on me; my tight silk boxer shorts must have ripped. Just how much they ripped, I had no idea. OK I thought this is not a big deal. No one is going to know that I am wearing ripped and torn boxers and if they get too uncomfortable while walking to the office, I can always go into the men’s room and take them off before my meeting. When I got to my office, it was time for my meeting. No time for the men’s room. My secretary informed me that the clients were early and waiting for me in the conference room. She said they were getting impatient and were wondering where I was. She also informed me there were four of them. I was only expecting the meeting to be with two customers. Great! They were early impatient, and waiting for me. Not the best way first impression to make with clients in our first face to face encounter. Then to top everything off, the air conditioning in the building was not working. I wondered if Edward Scissorhands had something to do with this! It felt like the offices were about 90 degrees, and 90% humidity. I knew it was not that warm, but it sure felt like it! I quickly grabbed my business proposal and posters, and ran down the hall to get to the conference room. I asked the secretary to bring us some cold bottled water.

When I got to the conference room, my clients were visibly annoyed that I had not been there to greet them. It was warm in the room so they were all fanning themselves with copies of my business proposal. They politely stood up and I shook their hands. I could see these were four big guys. They were not fat; they were muscular, and well proportioned. I apologized to them, and suggested we postpone or move the meeting to another location because of the heat. They all said no and to wanted to get the meeting underway. The secretary came into the room with the bottled water, and I handed it out to everyone in the room. There were also a large pile of napkins, which I put in the middle of the conference table.

My verbalization of the proposal was not going well, I found myself stumbling over the simplest of details, so I decided to show the posters that outlined the proposal, and emphasize how lucrative this deal would be for them. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. I used a laser pointer to show the details and bottom line of the proposal. I could feel the sweat pouring down my back and down my underarms. My slacks were sticking to my ass and legs. I took my jacket off and told the others in the room to make themselves comfortable, considering the heat and the inability to open any windows. Once my jacket was off, I could see just how wet my shirt was. This is one of the reasons I always wear a tee shirt when dressing. The tee shirt would have absorbed the wetness, perhaps not all, but some of it considering the situation. As I continued with my presentation, I began smelling the odor of bleach, but I had no idea where it is coming from. When my presentation was complete, I could see the looks of disapproval on my customer’s faces, and all four of them sat with their arms folded. I did not need a body language expert to tell me what I had already known. They were not happy! I asked if they had any questions. As I asked this, I closed the laser pointer and put it in my shirt pocket. In doing so, I heard the RRRRIIIIPPPP! My shirt pocket ripped off my shirt. Not only did the pocket rip off, but I had two long rips in the shirt, where once there was a pocket! I made a joke and laughed nervously about how poorly made shirts were these days. As I was saying this, I was gesturing with my hands, and in doing so; I knocked over two open full bottles of water that were in front of me. Of course the bottles spilled all over the conference table. The bottles rolled around table for a second, and then fell to the floor. As quickly as I could, I stretched across the conference table to get some of the napkins to soak up the spilled water. In doing so, I heard that sound again. RRRIIIIPPPP! I could tell my shirt had completely ripped down the center of my back. I could feel the warm air against my back where once there was a wet shirt. All I could do was to ignore this and continue to soak up the spilled water. While I was doing this, I watched my shirt (as if in slow motion) fall apart in front of my eyes. The elbows ripped, the collar and shoulders came apart as though they had been glued together and the glue lost it adhesiveness. Then the buttons started dropping off. I realized the bleach smell was emanating from my shirt. It was as if it had been soaked in bleach, dried, and then ironed. My sweat reactivated the bleach, and caused the demise of my shirt. I now understood why it was the only shirt that was not ripped up by Edward Scissorhands. I looked down at my chest, and could see pieces of fabric falling away from the shirt, until nothing was left of it except the collar and cuffs. Then, even the cuffs gave up the fight, and fell off. The thread that was holding the buttons on disintegrated. The only reason the collar stayed around my neck was because my tie was holding it in place! I still had to quickly dry the floor where the water spilled. The offices were on a raised floor and all the electrical ran underneath it. I did not need any more sparks flying! The stares I was getting from my customers were enough! I reached to the center of the table and grabbed more napkins to absorb the water and dry the floor. Without thinking, and just reacting to the situation, I dropped to a crouching position. I heard the unmistakable sound. RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPP! My slacks completely tore open from the zipper all the way around up and through the back waistband of my slacks, and to make matters worse, my smiley face silk boxers were also torn completely open. Without thinking, I stood up! My slacks immediately fell to the floor. My cock and balls were dangling out the torn boxers. I was on display to my customers. I could not think even if I wanted to. Instinct kicked in and I just started running to the door. I did not get very far. I tripped on my slacks that were bunched up around my ankles. I fell, face first onto the floor exposing my ass to everyone in the room, because my boxers had ripped so badly, there was no coverage on my ass anymore. My customers went into hysterics. They were laughing so hard they could barely keep from falling over. Once they stopped laughing, they realized the water that spilled on the floor was still there, and needed to be picked up before it got to the electrical systems under the floor. All four of my customers grabbed the pile of napkins from the table, and immediately squatted down to dry the floor. A thunderous sound was heard. RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPP! All four men had completely split their slacks open. They had sweated so much that their clothing completely clung to their bodies! I just lay there on the floor, and watched the show. I saw Customer One had on a pair of tight white boxer shorts, with red reindeer on them, and it was not even Christmas time! They were very wet and transparent from his sweat. Customer Two had on a pair of blue polka dot bikini briefs that were way too small for him. His ass cheeks were spilling out the sides of the briefs, and made it look as though he was wearing a thong. Now, customer Three was the beefiest of all of them and was facing me, so it was difficult to see how large the rip was in his slacks, but his big thick cock and balls were hanging out the front of his torn slacks! It was quite evident that he was blessed in the size department. I was not sure if he was commando or if his underwear had torn open, but I knew I wanted to find out, and see more of him. I had to keep my composure while looking at him, and appear not to be staring. I could see he was wearing a shinny metal cock ring. He was looking right at me! I pretended not to look at him, but then our eyes met, and he gave me a wink and a smile. Customer Four was the only one of the clients I knew personally. His name was Bill. He was a younger guy, and quite good-looking. He was the smallest of the group of four. He was no runt, just not as big as the other three. I think he was from Virginia, and had a cute southern accent. He moved very quickly like the other three, without thought of the consequences, because when he squatted down a long continuous RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPP was heard. It looked as though his slacks exploded. Not only did they rip from the top of the zipper all the way around his crotch up to his belt in the back, but both side seams tore! The side seams ripped from the bottom of his front pockets down to below his knees! I had never seen a pair of slacks have such monumental failure at the same time! There was nothing he could do to cover himself. His slacks were totally trashed. He looked down at himself and realized he was wearing a pair of bright yellow satin boxers with a leopard print on them, and dancing leopards. His face turned beet red! He was really embarrassed. Even though I was the one who should have been embarrassed, being on the floor with my ass exposed, I could do nothing but laugh and point at him. What he did next completely took me by surprise. Bill grabbed the fly of his boxers which were NOT even ripped, and tore them off! He tore his boxers in half! He quickly wadded them up, and threw them in the corner of the room. I don’t think Bill wanted anyone to see the embarrassing underwear he was wearing! It seemed he would rather be naked from the waist down than to be seen by anyone wearing bright yellow satin boxers with a leopard print and dancing leopards. To be honest, I am not sure if anyone else saw him do this but me. My gaze was immediately affixed to Bill’s lovely cock and balls! Bill’s cock had a nice mushroom head to it. Not huge, but a good size. His balls hung low in proportion to his cock. I looked at him, and completely forgot about my embarrassing situation.

I turned back to see that customer Three was still crouched down and was pleasuring himself. Wow I thought this day might turn out well after all. I got up, ripped what remained of my slacks and torn boxers off, and walked over to customer Three. He did not move, but just looked me in the eyes. I took him by the arm to have him stand up. Once he was standing in front of me, I took the opportunity to finish ripping off his slacks off. I grabbed them from the tear that was already there below his zipper. His cock and balls were already exposed. With one good tug, I ripped the rest of the front of his slacks open. RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPP! His slacks were like tissue paper in my hands. They completely ripped open down the inseams to well below his knees. I then took hold of the fabric that so delicately covered his ample ass, and pulled it apart, until his slacks fell into a torn heap of cloth on the floor. Much to my surprise, and pleasure it appeared he was wearing a leather harness under his slacks along with the metal cock ring. I could not resist massaging his round bulbous hairy ass, and playing with the straps of his harness. I undid the tie he was wearing, and tied his wrists behind his back with it. I could see his large thick cock was throbbing! I grabbed the pocket of his shirt, and ripped it off. Just like my shirt had done, his shirt ripped open from where the pocket once was. With this done, just tore into his shirt, and completely ripped it off him. By the time I finished with it, there was nothing recognizable that it had once been a shirt. I could now see he definitely was wearing a leather harness! His defined abs fit nicely into the harness, and his ass cheeks filled out the leg straps completely. I pulled his nipples until they were hard and erect. He moaned with pleasure. I moved behind customer Three, I knew I wanted to fuck his sweet ass. My cock was as hard as a rock with the anticipation of this. I leaned him over the table, and put my hard cock in his ass. I wanted to ride him hard and rough. His ass was tight. He moaned with pleasure having my hard cock shoved deep up his ass. While I fucked him, I loosened the straps of his harness and slipped it off him. I glanced over at Bill, and saw that he was stroking his own hard cock. I motioned to Bill to join us. Bill sat himself on the table directly in front of customer Three, spread eagle with his legs dangling over the side of the table. Bill’s cock was hard as a rock and straight as an arrow. Bill grabbed customer Three’s head and pulled it down on his cock. Customer Three could do nothing but suck Bill’s swollen cock. Customer Three continued to moan as he was being fucked and giving head at the same time. After a few minutes of this, he was unable to control himself anymore. He grabbed his own hard cock and started pumping it until he was shaking. I saw his load shoot from his cock in one long thick stream. Immediately after Customer Three blew his wad, Bill and I both came in unison. I filled Customer Three’s ass with so much hot cum that it was running out of his ass and down his legs. Bill shot his load into Customer Three’s mouth. He swallowed every drop of Bill’s hot cum and looked as though he wanted more.

What we did not notice was that customers One and Two had walked out and left the conference room sometime during our ecstasy. As soon as I was able to regain my stability and clear my head, I noticed they were gone. Bill and Customer Three looked at each other and then looked at me. Bill said not to worry about the other two. They were not the money in this deal, they were just there to try to intimidate. Four against one!

Bill said he knew I would do anything to get this sale, and he was right. The deal had been consummated. I did not tell them I had Edward Scissorhands to thank for putting all this into motion and Edward will never know what he did for or to me!

0 notes

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Green With Envy

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] In Dream’s opinion, you and Sapnap are getting a bit too close for comfort. Combine that with a war, and it looks like he’s in way over his head.

Warnings: some cursing (because Tommy exists) + tw// injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted some dream angst with a fluffy ending! the story takes place during the attack on L’Manberg. love to see that my first dream work is just packed to the brim with tropes. i had a bit of a rough time mapping this one out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room, ruffling his hair as he went. “Good morning,” he greeted, collapsing onto the nearest couch.

On the other side of the room, you groaned. “‘Good morning’, my ass,” you muttered. “Mornings suck.”

He let out a small laugh at that, admiring your form sitting across from him. You were easily the biggest anti-morning person he knew. You could probably write a whole essay on why they were just the worst. But right now, in this moment, you looked absolutely adorable curled up in the couch cushions. Your hair was a complete mess, your clothes were askew, and a frown was plastered to your face.

Yet you were still so beautiful.

He wondered how you did it—how you managed to be so effortlessly wonderful in that special way of yours. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was sure of one thing.

He liked you. A lot.

If only he knew how to tell you.

Sapnap strolled into the room, holding a glass of milk. “Morning, cuties,” he hummed, taking a sip. He glanced down at the grumbling couch lump that was you. “Is [Y/N] being a grump, again?”

Dream nodded, offering him a crooked smile. “You know it.”

For a moment, Sapnap paused. Then a devilish smile crossed his face and he set his glass down on the coffee table. He leapt over the back of the couch, crashing into the space next to you. Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around your smaller figure and pulled you into his chest.

Dream froze in his spot.

What. The hell.

You let out a yelp at the sudden movement, your frown deepening. “Sapnap,” you said, “what are you—”

“Wakey, wakey!” he cried, his fingers going for your sides in a tickle attack. In an instant, you were howling with laughter, tears springing to your eyes as you kicked your arms and legs. Dream’s throat constricted at the sight, his heart beating faster at the sight of your smile but sinking knowing that he wasn’t the cause of it.

“Snappitus!” you screeched, smacking his head. “Snapmap, stop!” You let out a wheeze. “Oh my god, Sapnap! I’m going to kill y—”

Sapnap finally relented, dropping you back onto the couch cushion with a smile. “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile in the morning, [Y/N].” He jut his thumb into his chest triumphantly. “And it was all thanks to me.”

You heaved, catching your breath before turning to look at him. “Snappitus Nappitus,” you crooned, reaching your hand over towards his face. He looked at you inquisitively. Suddenly, you flicked his forehead, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Dude!” he cried, glaring up at you from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

You cackled at his reaction, kicking at his armour. “Because you’re an idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do that.”

Sapnap let out a groan of defeat as he asked for you to at least pass him an ice pack for his “grave wound”. On the other side of the room, Dream’s expression was cold. A stone of uneasiness sank to the bottom of his stomach as he stood up, walking out of the living room with a heaviness in his step that he didn’t walk in with.

So, he thought to himself, his gut churning.

Sapnap, huh?

The sun glared down at the earth from the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Dream squinted up at it as he surveyed the weather.

The scheduled day to negotiate with L’Manberg over their territory had finally come.

Under any other circumstances, Dream would be having much more fun preparing for the journey, knowing very well that he was about to see some serious destruction. But today, he was in a terrible mood, and for one reason only.

For the past week, you and Sapnap had been spending practically every second together.

When Dream had sent Sapnap to burn down the forest surrounding L’Manberg’s walls, he had invited you to come with him. When Dream had asked you to hunt creepers to retrieve the gunpowder necessary for the TNT, you had brought Sapnap with you.

And he didn’t think it could get any worse, but even now, you were laughing at something Sapnap was saying, your grin shining brighter than the sun hanging in the sky above you.

Dream was tired of it.

“You have the dynamite sticks, right?” he asked, leading his horse away from the house.

George froze, then let out a long whine. “I forgot it in the storage house. Now, I have to go all the way back to get it.”

Despite his terrible mood, Dream let out a chuckle. “You’re so dumb, George,” he said teasingly, sending him a smirk. “How could you forget the most crucial part of the plan?”

George groaned. “I don’t know! I just forgot, okay?”

He waved a hand at him, pulling out his saddle. “Just go and grab some quickly, alright? We’ll wait for you until you get back.”

George nodded, hopping onto his horse. “I’ll be back soon.” With a snap of his reins, he was dashing down the hill toward the storage warehouse.

The moment he disappeared over the hill, Dream’s smile vanished along with him. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sapnap chasing after you with a stick, his boots in your hand. A twinge of jealousy ran up his spine.

Wait—jealousy? No way. Dream wasn’t jealous, not one bit.

With a deep sigh, he diverted his attention to attaching the saddle in his hands to his horse. Mere moments after he placed it upon his horse’s back, he heard footsteps approach him. He already knew who it was without having to look up.

“What do you want?” he said coldly, not bothering to look at you as he began clasping the saddle buckles shut.

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Well, um,” you said, “I wanted to come over and say hi—”

“Cool, hi,” Dream said, cutting you off. He turned, looking at you properly now. “You can go, now.”

You looked taken aback by his words before your expression shifted into a frown. “What’s gotten into you, Dream? You’re not acting like yourself.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, am I?” He gestured behind you. “I’m just saying you can leave, now. You did what you came to do, right?”

You were appalled. “Why are you acting like this? I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit before we left.”

Didn’t you get it? He was trying to do you a favour. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Why don’t you just hang out with ‘Snappitus Nappitus’?”

A sinking feeling dug itself into his chest at the pang of hurt that shot across your face. But in an instant, it was gone, your expression hardening. His mouth went dry.

“Fine,” you spat, fixing your eyes on him with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You turned on your heel, stomping away to the other side of the base, inevitably making your way over to Sapnap to complain. Dream’s eyes trailed after you as you walked off, something stinging behind his eyes.

Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on anyone, let alone you—the one he cherished most.

He felt sick.

“Dream,” a voice said behind him. “I got the dynamite. Ready to go?”

He turned to see George behind him, seated on his horse with a flint and steel in hand. Taking a deep breath, Dream hoisted himself onto his own horse, picking up the reins with a heavy heart.

“Yeah.”

“Big D! What’s the fuck?!”

Dream grimaced under his mask, the string keeping his patience together wearing thinner by the second.

He and his SMP had been in L’Manberg for no longer than five minutes, and he already wanted to declare war and call it a day.

“I’ve already presented you with your ultimatum, Tommy.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, and it’s a bad one. ‘Give up your land or we’ll light three sticks of dynamite’,” he mocked. He turned to look at Tubbo with a grin. “Tell me that’s not the worst ultimatum you’ve ever fuckin’ heard, Tubbo.”

Tubbo offered a cheerful grin. “It’s a pretty bad ultimatum, yeah.”

Tommy nodded, looking back at Dream with a triumphant smile. “You see, Big D? Your deal sucks. It’s fucking terribl—”

Dream let out a deep sigh. “Tommy, I’m really not in the mood for this.” His form turned toward you for a split second, taking in the sight of your figure next to Sapnap’s before looking back at Tommy. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s your decision?”

The blond blinked at him for a second, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Oooh, are you having women problems?”

Dream’s grip on his sword stiffened, his fingers twitching. “What,” he said, his tone harsh, “are you talking about it?”

Tommy shrugged. “I’m just saying, you might be having some.” He gestured to himself, smiling pompously. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems, because I’m an expert at women.”

The string thinned another fraction. “Sure you are, Tommy.”

Just then, Wilbur spoke up. “Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him.” His smile mirroring Tommy’s. “But say, Dream,” he drawled, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and him, “do you happen to know the saying ‘green with envy’?”

Dream’s breath hitched. If he said one more wor—

Wilbur narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Because to me, it seems to be you’re covered in green from head to toe—inside and out.”

And the string snapped.

“George,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “set it off.”

The group looked at him in alarm, their eyes wide as George began, “A-Are you sur—”

“Just set it off!” he shouted, a fury like none other taking over him. How dare Wilbur of all people tease him—taunt him? How dare he? Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was done with negotiating.

It was time.

Without any more questions, Dream watched as George lit three sticks of dynamite, tossing them onto the ground ahead of them. The moment the sticks hit the ground, George yelled, “Go, get out, get out, get out!”

Every member of Dream’s faction turned, rushing for the entrance just as the first explosion rang out. Screams rang out all around him, Tommy cursing incessantly while Fundy screeched. Hidden under his mask, a grin stretched across his face at the sound of destruction. He was a single step away from the exit when Sapnap let out a desperate yell.

“[Y/N]!”

Dream stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. The explosions were still ringing out around him, but what he saw horrified him.

You laid on the ground with an arrow pinned to the train of your satchel, leaving you stuck on the ground. Above you, a chunk of the L’Manberg walls was dangerously close to unlatching itself and falling on you. All it would take was a few more explosions for that section of the wall to come crashing onto you, and Dream knew that they had hidden more than enough TNT under the country to make that happen.

You were tugging desperately on your satchel, unsheathing your sword to cut yourself loose, but Dream knew there wasn’t enough time.

He didn’t allow himself even a single second to process what was happening—he simply bolted.

In one moment, he was turning to head out of the base. In the next, he was tackling you to the ground, his taller figure shielding yours as he pinned you to the earth below.

“Drea—?”

The ear-splitting train of explosions cut you off, and Dream felt a surge of white hot pain sear up his back as the chunk of wall slammed into his back. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his armour was cracking. He knew he should have repaired it when he had the chance.

Just then, his mask slid off his face, landing squarely on your chest. The strap must have snapped, he thought distantly to himself. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and he could just barely make out the sight of you crying out underneath him, your lips forming his name—his real name.

It was a shame he couldn’t hear your voice saying it. He’s sure it would sound lovely.

Then the world went dark.

Something cool brushed over his face, and Dream felt himself being pulled out of unconsciousness.

Where... am I?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking while then drowsiness seeped out of his eyes. It must be late afternoon, given how warm and light it was. Letting his eyes readjust to the brightness of the day, he took in the sight of the space around him. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out that he was in his room. He recognized those chests, his messy desk, the curtains framing the open window. A breeze must have been what woke him up.

Why am I here?

He thought back in his mind, trying to recall the last memory he had experienced.

The battle. His SMP. L’Manberg. Tommy. Wilbur. Ultimatum. Dynamite.

He grimaced.

Oh. Right. That.

He vaguely wondered if their side had won, but also knew that he was missing something. He could have sworn there was more to the battle than just that. What was it?

He felt a weight pressing down on the bed just next to him. Glancing down, his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of you sitting in a chair next to him, leaned over and fast asleep on the edge of his bed. The images flashed through his mind.

Taunting. The wall. You. Pain. Heat. Your lips mouthing his name. Darkness.

Ah. He remembered, now.

He shifted slightly, feeling a dull pain shoot up his side. Wincing, he pulled back the covers, looking down. He was wearing a new shirt and sweatpants—clean clothes, thank goodness. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, he grimaced at the sight of the white bandages wrapped around his torso. They definitely extended to his back as well, if he remembered correctly. So that explained the aches.

Ever so slowly, he wiggled back, ignoring each wave of pain that crashed over his spine when he did so. A few moments later, he had finally brought himself to a sitting position, your head now lying on his lap. Dream smiled fondly down at you, reaching out to stroke your hair. You were beautiful when you were sleeping. Well, you were beautiful all the time, but he digressed.

He had a million questions swirling around in his head. How long had you been sitting here? Did your back hurt from leaning over for so long? Were still mad at him?

He really hoped you weren’t.

Just then, you reached a hand to rub at your eyes, letting out a soft noise as you began to wake up. Dream’s hand immediately darted back to his side, and he watched intently as you brought yourself back to a sitting position. You let out a quiet groan as you cracked your back. It was only then that you fully opened your eye. He could practically see the recognition set in your eyes as you took in where you were before you whirled, jaw dropped as you stared at him.

“Um,” he began, suddenly feeling shy, “hey there.”

You continued to gape at him, eyes wide. “You’re awake,” you blurted.

His lips quirked. “Sure am.”

You scooted closer to him in your chair, shoulders shaking. “You’re actually awake,” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

Dream nodded, amused. “Yep. You already said that.”

All of sudden, you moved forward, climbing onto the bed so that you were sitting on your knees right beside him. He didn’t have a chance to react before you were leaned into him, weakly smacking his chest with your fists, your shoulders trembling as you did so.

“You’re. So. Stupid!” you wailed, punctuating each word with another light hit. You whipped your head up, glaring at him through your watery eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you block me from the debris?”

Dream averted his gaze from yours, his heartbeat picking up from how close you were to his. He could only hope you couldn’t feel it through your hands. “I wake up and one of the first things you tell me is that I’m stupid?” he said, trying to avoid the topic at hand. “What a warm welcome back.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Don’t change the subject, Dream. Answer the question.” Your gaze narrowed. “Why did you do it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I—I didn’t even think about it,” he admittedly truthfully. “I just moved without thinking.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “But why? You should have been worried about yourself first.”

Dream blinked down at you, feeling his heart beat against his rib cage wildly. He was almost positive you could feel it.

Then it hit him, the realization sinking into his mind as clear as day.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, reaching up to hold your hand in his. He watched something in your gaze melt, but the question remained in your eyes.

Luckily for you, he had an answer.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s why.”

You stared at him, stunned. He felt anxiety lump in his throat.

“You do?”

He swallowed it back down.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then you began to cry.

Almost instantaneously, Dream began to panic. “H-Hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you carefully, “why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I, uh—” He gulped. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know you like Sapnap.”

Now, it was your turn to be confused. Sniffling, you wiped at your eyes. “Wh—” Hiccup. “W-What are you talking about? I don’t—I don’t like Sapnap.”

He wrinkled his brow at you. “Sure you do,” he said. “You’ve basically been all over him lately. That practically screams, ‘I love Sapnap’.”

You stared at him, your tears reduced to stained cheeks now and a slightly sniffling nose. “Sapnap and I are best friends,” you said, frowning.

He nodded. “Yeah. And you like him.”

Your frowned deepened. “No, that’s—” You stopped, and he watched as the gears turned in your head, being able to pinpoint the exact moment they clicked together.

“Dream,” you said slowly. “You think that I—” You pointed to yourself. “—like Sapnap?”

He cocked his head. “I mean, don’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “Dream,” you said again, “when you jumped in front of me, I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what was going on, and I only remember screaming before you just blacked out on me. We won and L’Manberg surrendered, but George had to help me carry you back. You were out for two days.”

He cringed at your words. It was good that you had won, but two days was a long time to be unconscious. He must have missed so much.

“During those two days, Dream,” you continued, “I practically didn’t leave that chair.” You pointed to the chair you had been sitting on just moments prior. “Sapnap had to drag me down to eat, and I still slept here, as you already saw.”

He gaped, absolutely shocked. You stayed by his side? For two straight days? For him?

He must have said that out loud without thinking, because you nodded and pursed your lips. “Dream,” you said, “do you know what that means?”

He blinked at you. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with you liking Sapnap.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “How are you this dense?” you muttered, your cheeks flushing pink. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

He didn’t think he could be anymore confused. “Say what?”

Lifting your head, your eyes met his, your cheeks burning with heat and hands shaking. “That I like you, and not Sapnap.”

Dream froze, his brain short-circuiting in his head.

You liked him.

You liked him back.

A grin spread across his face. This was possibly the greatest day of his life.

Without wasting another minute, he pulled you into his arms, practically crushing you to his chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement, your heart swelling in your chest at the sudden display of affection. “Huh—”

“Thank god,” he murmured in your ear, his voice soaked in relief. “I genuinely thought that you were going to reject me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, careful to be gentle with his back, and smiled into his shoulder. “I thought I was being obvious, but I guess you’re just really stupid.”

Dream sighed, dizzy with affection and something that felt like love.

“Yeah, I am.”

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room. “Good morning,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Has anyone seen my—”

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. On the other side of the room, you were curled into the couch like you almost always were in the morning. But this time, you were wearing a green hoodie. His green hoodie.

His heart melted at the sight.

He didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore beautiful, yet here you were, destroying all of his expectations. You never ceased to amaze him with just how wondrous you were.

He sighed, striding to the other side of the room and settling in next to you on the couch. “Never mind,” he murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle his face next to yours. “I found it.”

You giggled at his touch, pushing his face away from you. “Ugh, you’re so cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grinning. “Don’t act like you don’t eat it up.”

You huffed, turning away from him. “I’m not saying anything.”

Sapnap walked in while Dream laughed at your expression, a glass of milk in hand. “Morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the couch opposite of you two. He spared a single glance in your direction before asking, “Are you two being gross, again?”

Dream‘s grin widened. “You know it.”

Sapnap gagged as Dream leaned in close to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ewww.”

Turning to face your boyfriend, you pressed a hand to his cheek and cooed. “Clay.” He leaned into your touch, his lips curling. He was right. His name did sound lovely on your lips,

You returned his smile with one of your own, moving your hand away from his cheek and towards his hairline.

All of a sudden, you flicked his forehead, pain shooting through his skull as he jumped.

“Ow!” he yelped, wincing at the slight sting of your nail against his skin. He rubbed at the red skin, glaring at you. “Why’d you do that?”

You smiled sweetly at him, but he could see your eyes glint devilishly. “Because you’re an idiot for not realizing I liked you sooner.”

From the other side of the room, Sapnap let out a cackle, pointing at Dream. “Suck it, green boy!”

Dream’s brow twitched and a dark grin crossed his face as he stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, Sapnap—”

Let’s just say that Sapnap needed more than a few ice packs, that day.

3K notes · View notes

varfolomeewa · 2 years

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[Butler Felix AU]

“Sir, it's time to wake up.”

The curtains open by the accompaniment of the whirring motor. Adrien frowns in displeasure, turns over and covers himself with a blanket.

"Sir, if you don't wake up now, you'll be late for breakfast.

“I wanna to see end of my dream," Adrien mumbles, hugging the pillow tighter. The voice is getting closer.

”Sir, there will be no third warning, but there will be a glass of water on your beautiful hair.“

“Aaaagrh!”

Adrien snarls and throws back the blanket, rolling onto his back. Felix is standing nearby, holding an empty glass and a tray with freshly ironed clothes. He smiles and puts the glass down on the nightstand with a light thud.

”I hate you.”

“It's mutual, sir.”

“My father is not around, you can not stick to this manner of speech.”

Adrien sits down and yawns, stretching. Felix shrugs his shoulders.

“You never know what. In general, yes, get up, come on, kiddo.”

“I'll ask to increase your salary.”

Adrien throws the blanket and trudges into the bathroom, scratching himself. Felix opens the windows wide open, goes back to the bedside table and opens the top drawer.

“Monsieur Kwami, good morning to you too.”

Plagg yawns, stretches like a cat and begins to wash his face. His blurred body ripple a little after sleep, not yet taking the form. Felix, meanwhile, leaves clothes on the table, easily picks up a heavy blanket and begins to make the bed. Because Adrien does it sloppily, which brings his perfectionism to a twitching eye. Adrien comes out of the bathroom already without the top of his pajamas, yawning and with water dripping on the floor from his hair. Felix exhales, mentally counts to ten and takes a towel from the dresser, approaching Adrien, who is sitting on the corner of the bed. He starts to wipe his hair with circular movements, listening the unpleasant murmur.

“When will you get into the habit of wiping your head immediately after shower? Although I am not a maid, but I feel sorry for the cleaner, who then wipes off these water stains on your floor.”

“There's no one around, so I relaxed.”

“What’s you mean “no one”? I’m here.”

Adrien is silent. Felix winces and forcefully begins to rub his hair, which is why Adrien begins to laugh and try to fend off such persistent care. Plagg looks at it with his still opaque eyes, yawning again.

And so every morning. Felix, grumbling, promptly dries and styles Adrien’s hair, cleaning up in the room and once again checks the schedule for today, packing Adrien’s bag for college.

“…Don’t forget textbooks.”

Holding the stack in the air, Felix approaches Adrien, who is preening in front of the mirror, he even sticks out the tip of his tongue. Having overcome the desire to lower all the books at once on the top of his head, Felix smirks at his own reflection that was a whole head taller than Adrien.

”Shorty.”

Adrien waves it off and takes the textbooks. Plagg, already shaped into a kitten, looks at Felix.

“Don't forget to order Camembert.”

“As you say, Monsieur Kwami.”

“Don't indulge him!” Adrien shouts from across the room, grabbing his bag. Felix silently approaches and picks up the bag from him, throwing it over his shoulder. Adrien smiles, luring Plagg into the pocket of his shirt.

Felix quietly puts a small chocolate bar in his bag. As they walk down the stairs, Adrien waves to Natalie as she comes out of the office. Felix greets with a restrained nod. Natalie points at his neck with her gaze, and Felix instinctively adjusts the ribbon that replaces the suffocating tie.

It’s slightly askew.

Adrien with pleasure, hardly restraining his energy by his table manners, starts breakfast. Felix stands at the door with his hands behind his back and disconnected from reality. While his annoying younger brother, who is also a "young master", will be studying, he will need to go to the store, leave an application for a new batch of Camembert, pick up copies of new magazines from the printing house, explore the area for akumanized ones, and also wash towels and change bed linen.

"Maybe I should run into the apartment, read the meters?" — he takes out a watch on a chain from his pocket, looks at the hands and frowns. "If I have time and there is no attack."

“I'm done!” Adrien stands up, pushing his chair back with a creak. Felix grimaces and waits for Adrien to catch up with him, then goes out after him. After escort Adrien to the car, he gives him the bag.

“Sir, I remind you,” Felix imperceptibly passes a metal box with a cut Camembert, “that I will need to be informed if you are going to be late.”

Adrien nods, jumping into the salon. Felix gently closes the door behind him and knocks on the glass with a knuckle. Gorilla starts the car and drives out of the mansion. Felix follows with his eyes until car disappears around the corner, checks the time again and turns around on his heels, looking appraisingly at the mansion.

He's got a lot on his plate.

***

And in the evening, Adrien sends a message that he does not have time to come home and asks to bring a change of clothes, followed by the coordinates. Felix, exhaling on the tenth count, shakes off the water from his hands and calls him.

“Are you alone?“ Adrien asks immediately. Felix turns off the water. “Felix, dear brother…”

“Well?“

”You know, you're the only one I can trust...

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“I haven't said anything yet…”

“WHAT. YOU. DID.”

Adrien hesitates. He mumbles incoherently. But the oppressive silence, while Felix goes to his bedroom, leads to a revelation.

“I'm stuck in the trash can.”

Felix's shirt falls out of his hands, which he began to take out of the closet. Somehow holding the phone with his shoulder, he freezes and squeezes the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“How?..”

“An akuma drove me there, and since I jumped out without a bag, I didn't bring cheese with me.”

Felix is twitching all over. He takes the most unremarkable pants, throwing them into a backpack. Adrien is rustling with something in the background (which Felix prefers not to even think about).

“I thought it was a brilliant idea!”

“And how you stinky will get through half the city — you didn't think, yes. Wait. And keep your head down for now.”

After disconnecting the call, Felix freezes for a couple of moments, praying to all existing forces that his brother has at least a drop of awareness and understanding of cause-and-effect relationships. While Felix is leaving the mansion, he calls the Chinese language teacher and says one of the pre-invented excuses, rescheduling the lesson for another day. Along the way, Felix studies the schedule, thinking where he can cram this very lesson.

Adrien finds himself in (thanks god) an almost empty container, where cardboard boxes were mostly piled. When he sees Felix, he happily gets out and reaches out to hug, but Felix evades the fragrant hugs, pulling out a bag of clothes in his hand. Under the unreadable gaze of gray eyes, Adrien begins to justify himself:

“Transformation just is over, it's not my fault!“

“Yes, it's always not your fault, would do you say, Plagg?”

Kwami, now again resembling a clot of space, hovers over Felix's shoulder.

“I’m agree.”

“Traitor!!!” Adrien screams.

Author of AU: @nekogaaaaaaa

Writer: @celmif

Translation: @varfolomeewa

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #felix graham de vanily #Butler Felix au #translations #fanfiction #miraculous

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

I have to be an adult today (whatever the hell that means) so this is short but I couldn’t help myself. Based on This Steve with This Billy post for the lovely @lovebillyhargrove 🌹 and @withoneheadlight 🌹

photographer!Steve and model!Billy - boyfriend shenanigans.

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

Potentially Billy’s favorite thing about Steve - out of many characteristics - was how easily gob smacked he could be.

Billy knew what he looked like.

But still. Seeing Steve just kind of stare in wonder at him for a while never gets old.

He does it today, while Billy’s trying to pay attention to whatever his manager is saying. He can’t help but slide a smirk in Steve’s direction, though: the poor guy standing listlessly with one camera hanging around his neck, and another on a tall tripod next to him.

The manger notices and wraps up what he’s saying concisely. Billy understood his frustration. Billy and Steve working together had proven a 50/50 chance at making million dollar ad campaigns

Just clumsy dates, really.

Billy had been Steve’s entrance into this business - a fact not lost on either of them since various managers and executives threatened reminded them of it whenever photoshoots fell through - but Billy’s second favorite thing about Steve was how he didn’t let that cause a rift between them. If anything, Steve asked for more jobs with Billy, even at the risk of being demoted to a photographer’s assistant or Billy’s personal assistant.

But it kept them together. It allowed Billy a reassurance on international flights that he’d have Steve available to climb into his first class seat whenever Billy’s fear of flying kicked in.

As much as the agencies loathed to admit it, Steve was like a walking insurance policy for one hot-headed Billy Hargrove. If a photographer said something wrong, treated the models rudely, or if he was merely having a bad day, Steve could step in, and Billy eye fucked his boyfriend for hours.

Other models requested Steve. Billy knew that was a big deal for his boyfriend and was proud of him. He could always find Steve on set, either by his brightly colored beanies, or the fluffy hair going without. That had helped Billy feel more at home in this business; he may have opened the door for Steve, but Steve furnished it with friends and loyal connections.

Today Steve yanked the head covering off, already hot under the lights. It was just Billy here, even though he raked a hand through his mane. Billy liked seeing the gleam on his hair. He also enjoyed Steve’s little self-esteem thing about needing his hair styled in the presence of models.

“Ready, pretty boy?”

Steve refocused and stepped behind the tripod. “Yeah. Whenever you are.”

Steve must’ve taken hundreds of photos just in the first half hour. He set it on a steady timer, and moved around the room, changing the lights to warm tones, and then less explosive on the brightness. Billy did his work, tilting himself appropriately to catch the fan’s breeze when Steve pointed it to blow his suit jacket open, or billow through his half-open, black dress shirt.

“Ten minute break,” Steve announced. He was good about breaks. Billy’s manager brought a chilled bottle of water and Steve went through the portfolio paperwork for the shoot. It wasn’t much of a break for him, as he moved the lights and furniture around, but Billy was ready for him.

He sat on the luxurious ottoman, already in his first stance when he peeked at the lack of camera noise. “Steve?”

His boyfriend stood with his shoulders a little contorted so he could examine something going on with the camera hanging from his neck. “Sorry. I...I need another minute.”

Billy relaxed as much as he could so the suit did not wrinkle or collapse in shape. Eventually, though, he noticed Steve crouching over one of his bags for his tools.

Oh boy.

Billy sauntered over, standing over him as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you hold this?” Steve answered instead. He blindly held the camera up, and Billy accepted, along with the explanation, “The lens is uneven and one of the pieces is askew.”

Billy silently thanked him for not wielding fancy terms at him, but upon a closer look at the device, it certainly wasn’t correct. A thin, middle section between the lens and the camera tilted wonkily. He breathed with a small amount of awe, “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I think it got bumped during the drive,” Steve sighed, holding a tiny screw driver as he stood up.

“Come here,” Billy nodded toward the set, and Steve came to sit on the floor while using the ottoman as a table. He removed his jacket and wiped his forehead, glancing at the lights before Billy pestered, “What’s the matter?”

“I have to expose the sensor. With the shudder, it’s fine, but with too much light, we might be stuck with the tripod.”

“Can’t we turn off some lights?”

“I need to be able to see. Maybe you could, um, just hold your hands over it? Or hold that umbrella for me?”

Billy detached the umbrella from one of the unused lights and sat on the ottoman, with the umbrella situated on his thighs. As the camera became more exposed, he added his hands for extra shade. Eventually Steve surprised him with, “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m fine. We do this all the time.”

“Wasting a lot of time, though,” he exhaled nervously.

“We’re going to Sydney on Friday. That’s locked in, so don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t think blowing one shoot is justified by the promise of another,” Steve managed to giggle. Then he tilted his face up and just...gazed at him. “You look really good.”

Billy smirked softly. “I know.”

Steve’s eyes rolled. “Forgot who I was working with here.”

Billy laughed and saw in his periphery people moving around, other cameras working. This job always had multiple cameras. Hair and makeup stylists capturing their work from afar. His and Steve’s managers locking in behind the scenes shots for Instagram. Another perk of their success: the fanfare material behind the cameras built as much revenue as the actual scheduled photoshoots.

As Steve unscrewed something, Billy saw and heard the clatter of it falling back into place. “That’s good, right?”

Steve sighed a relieved smile up at him. Billy felt ticklish warmth in his chest. “Yeah, that’s good. The screws are probably bent, but I can get new ones before Friday. It’ll work for now.”

Steve put the damn thing back together while Billy returned the umbrella, and resumed his posture on the ottoman. A couple of people manifested around him to touch up his raiment and make sure his shirt was open to cleavage perfection.

“Steve, come here.”

The stylists retreated as his photographer trotted up -

Billy yanked him down for a kiss. And just as quickly pushed him back up to standing. “Go to work, my time is precious.”

“Don’t be a dipshit,” Steve remarked, and pointed the camera right at Billy’s face to make the lights flash in revenge.

Come Friday, Billy showed him something on his phone: the Instagram account his manager operated. Much to both of their amusement and chagrin - because a long day taking pictures was more grueling than most people realized - was a picture behind the magazine editor’s shoulder while he worked at his computer.

The caption read: Impromptu cover. Sometimes candid is better.

The image was Steve on the floor and Billy on the ottoman, the two of them gazing at each other mid-conversation in the set’s warm lighting.

Steve chewed his fruit and yogurt slowly, processing in the airport vip lounge. His hair was in glorious disarray, and Billy’s not much better underneath his ball cap.

“That’s the cover?”

“Seems so.”

“Your manager’s going to steal my job with a phone camera - why am I on the cover?”

“The theme was Warm Encounters,” Billy reminded. “It’s not a secret that we’re together.”

“I’m not styled or anything - ”

“Your hair looks good.”

“I’m wearing the t-shirt I got in Hong Kong. It says BURBUSSY.”

Billy laughed and closed the app. He pushed his leg to rest alongside Steve’s. “Good thing you were turned around. We don’t know if Burberry has a sense of humor.”

#harringrove #ficlet #this steve with this billy #neonponders #pondermoniums #lovebillyhargrove #withoneheadlight #photographer!steve #model!billy #domestic!harringrove

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emoprincey · 3 years

Text

Not Even At Death Do Us Part

Summary: When Virgil and his three best friends came across a spooky, possibly-haunted house in the middle of nowhere, of course they wanted to explore. But they didn’t expect it to actually be haunted…

Pairings: LAMP, Dukeceit

Word count: 6609

Warnings: Mentions of past character death, character gets very close to fainting, swearing, mentions of wounds (not graphically described)

Also posted on my ao3: stormofstarlight

“This is a horror movie. This is how horror movies start. I’ve seen at least three horror movies that started exactly like this.”

“Virgil, hush,” Janus rolled his eyes, stepping confidently onto the porch of the mansion, which creaked under his feet. “Everything will be fine.”

Despite the eerie atmosphere of the place, the large building seemed to be structurally sound, with no visible holes in the roof or walls – even the windows seemed mostly untouched with only a few cracks here and there. That only made it seem more spooky; a regular old house in shambles, Virgil could deal with, but this felt like a building frozen in time.

“Are you sure we’re allowed in here?” Patton asked as Janus pushed the unlocked door open. He shrunk against Virgil’s side at the groan the hinges made. “What if someone catches us trespassing?”

“Oh relax, this house has been abandoned for years. And none of the locals want to go near it, they all think it’s haunted or something,” Janus said calmly, and he walked through the door without hesitation.

“Haunted?” Patton squeaked.

Virgil brushed his fingers against the back of Patton’s hand, and his friend latched on eagerly. The warmth of his touch was comforting.

Logan gave an exasperated sigh as he attempted to shepherd Virgil and Patton through the door. “It is highly unlikely that this house if haunted,” Logan stated. “Given that there is literally no evidence that ghosts exist at all.”

“And I, for one, am not sleeping in the van for another night,” Janus said. The beat-up old campervan which Janus’ parents had lent to them had been fine for the first few nights of their holiday, but by the second week all four of them had aching backs and longed to sleep in a comfortable bed again. “Besides, what’s the point in going on a road trip of England if we don’t check out some of the historic properties?”

“You could have left it at ‘what’s the point in going on a road trip of England’,” Virgil muttered, though the trip had been partly his idea. A few weeks with his best friends away from their parents, going wherever in the country they pleased, sounded like absolute bliss after the stress of their A Levels. Of course, they didn’t have complete freedom; Logan made sure they stuck to a strict schedule and budget, and Patton ensured they were all eating healthily and not staying up too late. It was probably just as well, since Virgil and Janus probably would have tired themselves out within the first three days, maybe gotten lost a few times, and been entirely living off chocolate and crisps if left to their own devices.

The mansion looked even older inside. Patterned green wallpaper which had probably been splendid in its day was peeling off the walls, cobwebs hung in the corners and dust covered every surface of the grand entrance hall. Old portraits hung askew, the eyes of their painted occupants seeming to follow Virgil through the room.

While the others gaped at the décor, Janus immediately made for the sweeping staircase directly in front of them, which led up to a balcony overlooking the rest of the room.

“Hey, don’t go running off!” Virgil called. “We should stick together.”

Janus turned on his heel to face Virgil, a mischievous smirk on his face. “What’s wrong, Virge? Scared?”

Virgil scoffed. “As if.”

“Good, because we’ll cover more ground if we explore this place separately,” Janus said. “I’ll take a look at the East wing upstairs, Virgil you can do the West. Patton and Logan can take care of the downstairs.”

“But… but what if we run into… I don’t know, something scary?” Patton whispered, his grip on Virgil’s hand tightening as he looked into the shadows.

Logan sighed, brushing a hand over Patton’s arm. “Patton, I can promise you there are no monsters of any sort in this house. Would you feel better if I stayed with you?”

Virgil’s heart ached at the smile Patton gave Logan in return.

“Yeah… that would be nice,” Patton said, gazing at Logan with an adoring expression before he turned back to Virgil. “Will you be ok by yourself, Vee?”

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat. Patton and Logan liked each other, clearly. Even though he longed for the two of them to look at him the way they looked at each other, he knew it was hopeless, so he’d let them spend as much time as they wanted alone together if it made them happy. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Patton gave his hand a squeeze, before letting go and latching onto Logan’s arm.

Virgil watched the two of them disappear through a door, trying not to let his hopeless pining show on his face.

“You could just say something to them, you know.” Janus appeared at his shoulder, tone slightly tired from having this conversation so many times.

Virgil shook his head sadly. “They don’t like me back. Telling them how I feel would just be selfish.”

“Hmm…” Janus bit his lip, still looking at the door Patton and Logan had walked through. “You know, sometimes it’s ok to be a little selfish.” He didn’t give Virgil time to think of a response, striding over to the staircase. “I’ll meet you back here whenever, we’ll probably take the same amount of time unless you insist on checking every doorway for traps.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Virgil deadpanned. “I’ll be fine, let’s just find some beds to sleep in tonight.”

-----

Janus wasn’t bothered by exploring a possibly-haunted house by himself. Truly, he wasn’t. The shudder sent down his spine must have just been caused by the drafts in the old building. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, keeping a careful eye on the corners of the room. The drawing room he’d ended up in didn’t seem like it would be useful at all – unless somebody wanted to sleep on the chaise longue by the empty fireplace, but there were bound to be enough beds for all of them in a house this big.

He sighed, walking through a door which led into an adjacent… music room!

The room was sparse, only occupied by a few chairs and a grand piano which was bound to be out of tune by now, but Janus didn’t care. He’d been away from his piano for weeks, and his fingers practically ached from not being able to play. He flexed them before pushing back the lid to reveal the keys.

The dusty stool in front of the keyboard was maybe a little low for Janus, but there was no way to adjust the old thing so he sat down. Trying a chord of C, he winced at the discordant tones the piano let out. It really was horribly out of tune, and he wouldn’t be able to play anything that sounded remotely pleasant, but he’d missed the feeling of the keys under his fingers so much.

There was only one faded sheet of manuscript paper on the stand, bearing a relatively simple melody which looked as if it had been hastily scribbled. Janus squinted at it, and began to play. Despite its simplicity, he quite liked it. It was spooky, ominous, foreboding. All good things in his book.

When he finished the phrase, the temperature in the room suddenly dropped. The curtains fluttered though the windows were still closed. Janus clenched his fists by his side, standing up and backing away from the piano as the wind around it picked up. He gripped hold of his hat to keep it on his head as the gust quickly became a gale. As his vision began to blur from the cold wind, the lid of the piano flew open, and everything was still.

“Boo!”

Janus shrieked, jumping backwards and bumping into the wall before letting his gaze settle on the figure who seemed to be climbing out of the piano.

And holy hell was he gorgeous. A streak of grey cut through his auburn hair like a lightning bolt, and freckles were dotted over his pronounced cheekbones and chiselled jawline. Bright green eyes sparkled under thick eyebrows which were set in a determined expression.

He was also translucent. And floating. That might be an issue.

Janus couldn’t help running his eyes over the ghost’s figure – for someone without a physical form, he was built.

“Like what you see?” The ghost smirked, leaning against the side of the piano. The lid was magically propped perfectly in place beside him.

Janus matched the ghost’s smirk, letting his eyes trail a little more obviously over his curves. “Maybe I do,” he said, leaning back against the wall as casually as he could while his heart was beating in his throat.

“The name’s Remus,” the ghost said, stepping forward into a low bow. He winked as he lifted his head, making Janus’ heart stutter.

“I… uh, Janus,” he managed, cheeks flushing at how flustered he sounded.

“Well, Janus, thank you for freeing me,” Remus said, gesturing to the piano with another wink – and oh wow, of all the ways Janus had thought he might die in an encounter with a supernatural being, gay panic had never been one of them but it was looking more likely by the second.

“Freeing you?” Janus echoed. “You mean you were trapped in there?”

“Yep! I’d wager for a few decades at least!” Remus said, his tone far too cheery for the information he was providing. Then his face morphed into a petulant sneer. “My stupid brother locked me in there. I don’t know why, probably jealous of my good looks!”

“And what good looks they are…” Janus murmured.

He didn’t mean for Remus to hear, but the ghost grinned, his cheeks flushing a washed-out shade of red. Could ghosts even blush? “You flatter me, pretty boy,” Remus said, fanning himself dramatically with one hand.

Janus felt his own cheeks heat up at the nickname, but he smoothly sidled towards Remus. “It’s what I do best.”

“Then I think we’ll get along just swell,” Remus smirked, briefly glancing down at Janus’ lips.

Janus licked his lips, letting his tongue poke out just slightly. “Oh, I think we will…”

-----

Virgil fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie as he crept along the corridor. He hadn’t quite plucked up the courage to enter any rooms yet, but the mansion had a wealth of corridors that he was certain he could get lost in if he wasn’t paying attention.

Shadows seemed to flicker in the corner of his vision, spiderwebs twisting of their own accord as he turned away from them, but he knew it was just his imagination. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

The old pipes creaked distantly, almost drowned out by the sound of his own footsteps. He tried to tread quietly, keeping to the long rug in the middle of the corridor, but still the floorboards groaned under his weight. He was careful not to stay in one spot for too long, lest they gave way under his feet.

He turned a corner, the creaking pipes becoming louder as he approached, and he froze.

Because that sound was definitely not pipes.

The unmistakable sound of singing drifted towards him, and yep, this was a horror movie. He was going to meet his end at the ripe old age of eighteen, eaten by whatever monster occupied this haunted house in the middle of nowhere.

But as the lilting melodies of the smooth baritone voice swept over him, Virgil wanted nothing more than to get closer. There must be something supernatural behind it, because nobody could have a voice so beautiful, so magical otherwise.

Against all his instincts, he began to inch down the corridor towards the voice.

One door was slightly ajar, and as Virgil peered through the gap he saw a lavish four-poster bed with a red blanket and matching curtains, standing against a wall of oak panels. Virgil stopped in the doorway, listening to the voice from within the room. The soaring melody pulled at Virgil’s heart, the vibrato rumbling through his bones. He suddenly understood what Janus meant when he said he could feel music, because the range of emotions this singing evoked was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

He pushed the door open a little more, and saw the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on. Auburn hair cascaded down to his shoulders, curling around his sharp jawline. Gazing wistfully out of the window in his red robes, he looked like a fairytale prince.

Virgil sighed, leaning against the door- which swung open with a loud creak.

The singer suddenly stopped, and Virgil’s heart jumped to his throat as the mesmerising man turned to face him.

“Ah, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” the man smiled, his grin lighting up the room like a beautiful sunrise. Then he floated across the room towards Virgil, and- oh, right. Creepy haunted house. Ghosts. That explained it. “I hope my singing didn’t disturb you.”

“I- not at all,” Virgil sputtered, picking himself up off the ground. “I was- we were just looking for somewhere to stay the night. I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll just go now,” he stammered, scrambling backwards until he hit the wall.

“Oh, but you should stay a while!” The ghost insisted, still smiling warmly. “I don’t often have guests, and very rarely any as dashing as you.”

A choked noise escaped Virgil’s throat, but the ghost was already ploughing on.

“Roman Sanders, at your service,” he announced, sweeping into a bow. “You said there were more people with you? Are any of them as handsome as yourself?”

Virgil couldn’t think of an answer. Logan and Patton were certainly handsome, but he would never say that out loud. He was still trying to process the fact that a ghost – who just happened to be smoking hot – was hitting on him.

Luckily, Roman seemed content enough to do enough talking for both of them. “There are certainly a great many spare beds in this house, I’d wager there’s room for your party no matter the size. Why don’t you go and fetch them? Bring them to me, a good host should entertain his guests after all.”

Virgil nodded dumbly, and headed downstairs to search for his friends.

He found Patton and Logan in one of the drawing rooms at the back of the house, grinning at each other as they laughed about something. Virgil briefly wondered whether he should interrupt their conversation or leave them to have fun, but the moment Patton spied him in the doorway his smile brightened.

“Hey, Virge!” He dashed over and grabbed Virgil’s hands, pulling him into the room. “Find anything fun? We’ve found an old pool table, Logan’s gonna teach me how to play!”

Logan rolled his eyes fondly. “It’s not a pool table, it’s a snooker table. And I didn’t say I’d teach you, you just suggested-”

“Aww, please?” Patton begged, sticking out his lip.

Logan wavered, looking between Patton and the snooker table. After a moment he sighed, his eyes softening. “Okay, but I warn you I’m a bit out of practice.”

“I’m sure you’re brilliant!” Patton encouraged.

Logan’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly busied himself with picking up two sticks from the table for himself and Patton. “Here,” he said, leaning down and adjusting his grip on the stick so that it pointed to one of the snooker balls. “Hold it like this.”

Patton copied him as best as he could, fumbling in an absolutely adorable way. He turned to Logan with a hopeful smile, but was met with knitted eyebrows.

Logan chewed at his lip for a moment, a habit that often left him with chapped lips. Not that Virgil spent enough time looking at Logan’s lips to notice. He put down his own stick, and moved to stand behind Patton. “Is it alright if I guide you?” He asked.

When Patton nodded, Logan reached around his waist and down the length of his arms. He gently placed his hands on top of Patton’s, guiding his right further up the stick, and brushing against the fingers of his left hand to adjust his grip.

Something warm swelled in Virgil’s chest as he watched them, so soft he thought he might cry or burst with happiness, but the edge was tinged with melancholy. Because seeing how content they were together, just the two of them, reminded him that he could never hope to have something like that, and pretty soon their inseparable trio would turn into a happy couple and Virgil watching from the sidelines.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cheer from Patton; he’d struck one of the snooker balls, and it had rolled neatly into a hole in the corner of the table.

“Very good,” Logan commended, letting go of Patton’s waist to collect the ball from a window in the side of the table. As he glanced back at Patton, a small but undeniably overjoyed smile appeared on his lips. It was only there for a brief flash of a second, but it made Virgil’s heart skip a beat.

When Logan looked up, he caught Virgil staring, but he only smiled again. “Virgil, would you like me to teach you?” he asked, fiddling with the end of his tie. Why Logan insisted on wearing a suit every day of their holiday, Virgil couldn’t fathom, but then he wouldn’t be Logan if he didn’t.

“Uh, sure,” Virgil said with a quick smile. “I… probably won’t be much good though.”

“Nonsense,” Logan said vehemently, as if the very idea of Virgil not being good at something was ridiculous to him.

Well, now Virgil was blushing before he even got close to Logan, so that was a good start. He faced the table so Logan wouldn’t see the colour in his cheeks, breath hitching when Logan’s arms slipped over his waist to take his hands. Dark hair which needed a trim – a rare circumstance since Logan usually kept his hair as neat as the rest of him – brushed against Virgil’s neck as Logan looked over his shoulder. Virgil couldn’t focus on how he was holding the stick, but Logan was good enough with guiding him that he didn’t need to.

“That’s good, now just move your hand a little… there,” Logan murmured in his ear, his voice low and quiet, which made Virgil’s heart do several somersaults in his chest. “Just push forward a little – only gentle, don’t scrape the table.”

Virgil nodded, looking intently at the snooker ball in front of the stick. When Logan stepped back to give him some space, a wave of nervousness so strong he almost physically flinched washed over him. What if he made a mistake? It was so simple, Logan would think he was a complete idiot!

Logan’s hand rested on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. The movement was calming, and Virgil took a deep breath… and potted the ball just as Patton had done.

He let out a sigh of relief as Patton gave a little whoop.

“Well done, Virgil,” Logan said, moving his hand to Virgil’s elbow. “I knew you could do it.”

Virgil couldn’t hide his blush now, or the wide smile that stretched across his face, even as he looked at the ground.

Gentle fingers tilted his chin, and he found himself facing Patton. Logan still hadn’t let go of his arm.

“Chin up, you did well,” Patton grinned, dimples forming in his cheeks below the splash of freckles that covered his nose and cheekbones. “Don’t try and hide that smile from us.”

The moment was perfect; if Virgil could freeze time, he would do it there and then, and stay with his two best friends forever.

But then Logan pulled back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “So, Virgil. Did you find anything interesting upstairs?”

“Oh yeah,” Virgil remembered, “I forgot to tell you guys, I saw a ghost!”

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose. “Of course you did, Virgil.”

“No, I’m serious!” Virgil insisted. “He was see-through! And floating! And like, really pretty.”

Logan sighed. “Virgil, you cannot just tell me there is a handsome man upstairs and expect me to forget everything I know about science and believe you saw a ghost,” he said, though he glanced towards the ceiling as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive spirit.

“It’s ok, Virgil. I believe you!” Patton said brightly, slinging an arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Patton,” Virgil breathed out. “At least someone around here-”

“Let’s go see this ghostie, then! It’ll be like the time we found mermaid scales at the beach!” Patton continued, and all the relief flooded out of Virgil at once.

“Patton, those were seashells,” Logan reminded him.

“Shh, Logan. Don’t spoil our fun,” Patton whispered, making an exaggerated shushing motion in front of his grinning face.

Virgil ducked away from Patton’s arm, throwing his hands in the air. “Neither of you believe me, do you?”

Patton’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of concern. “Well, we know you didn’t really see a ghost. Are you feeling alright, honey? Maybe it’s the heat…” he mused, placing the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead.

Virgil stepped back again. “You’re not listening to me, I saw him. Just come with me.”

Patton opened his mouth again, but Logan silenced him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Perhaps we should go with Virgil,” Logan suggested calmly. “If we go back to where he thinks he saw this ghost, it may put his mind at ease when it isn’t there and we can attest to it.”

Virgil led them upstairs, stomping the entire way until he reached the corridor that led to Roman’s room. He stopped, quickly pulling out his phone to check his appearance in the selfie camera. After smoothing down his wild dark hair and fixing a little bit of eyeshadow that had smudged, he pocketed the phone again, turning to his friends.

Patton and Logan stood behind him, exchanging apprehensive glances as if Virgil didn’t know them well enough to decipher each one.

“Now, promise me you won’t freak out,” Virgil said firmly, spreading his hands in a calming motion.

Logan rolled his eyes, but Patton smiled politely.

“Virgil, I promise neither of us will freak out if we see a ghost in there.”

After a stern look from Patton, Logan echoed him.

Virgil sighed. There was no way he could actually prepare them for this. Without another word, he crept closer to Roman’s door. To his relief, the ghost was stood at the window again, though he wasn’t singing.

Virgil heard Patton gasp from beside him, and the ghost turned around at the noise.

“Ah, you brought them!” Roman exclaimed, floating towards the door. He swept into a bow in front of Patton. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am you host for this evening, and however long you choose to stay at my manor, Roman Sanders.”

Patton stared at Roman, his eyes wide. “N-nice to meet you, Roman.”

Roman smiled and turned back to Virgil. “You didn’t tell me your companions were so charming.”

Patton giggled, clasping his hands in front of his face as if that would hide his blush.

“Holy fucking shit.” Logan stood in the doorway, his mouth wide open and his eyes enormous.

“You said you wouldn’t freak out,” Virgil reminded him.

“I’m not freaking out,” Logan insisted, folding his arms. “I am simply… expressing my surprise that there is a ghost- fucking hell…” He shook his head, stumbling towards Roman as if in a trance. “An actual, real ghost…” He reached out as if to touch Roman’s shoulder, and his hand passed right through the ghost’s arm.

Roman let out a squeak of laughter, then looked a little sheepish when Logan reeled back in surprise. “Sorry. That tickles.”

Logan took a few steady breaths, raking his hands through his hair. “Well… I’m sorry for doubting you, Virgil,” he said finally, tearing his eyes away from Roman to look at Virgil.

Virgil shrugged. “It’s alright, I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

Logan took a step closer to Virgil, and murmured in what he clearly thought was a surreptitious tone, “and you were right about… the other thing too.”

Virgil looked blankly at him for a moment, but when Logan inclined his head towards Roman, and Virgil noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, he remembered telling Logan that Roman was pretty. And he sure had been right about that.

“Right, well. Let’s get you all settled in!” Roman announced grandly. “So, house rules. First, you can use any bedroom in the house apart from this one – because it’s mine – and anything in the East Wing.”

Virgil suddenly froze, exchanging a worried glance with the others.

“What’s in the East Wing?” Patton asked apprehensively.

Roman scowled - a nasty, contemptuous look that didn’t suit his beautiful face. “If you must know… my brother. He’s evil and dangerous. I’ve trapped him, but it would be safer if none of you went near the place he’s kept.”

“Janus,” Virgil whispered, clutching at the edge of his hoodie.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Our friend, Janus,” Logan said, looking very pale. “He’s in the East Wing.”

Roman’s expression hardened, his voice suddenly urgent. “We need to go there. Now.”

-----

The journey to the East Wing was a blur, the three living humans running behind Roman as he lead them to the room where his brother was kept. Virgil didn’t even slow down when he barrelled into the door, pushing it wide open as the group spilled into the room.

He immediately saw Janus, backed flat against a wall with his feet several inches off the ground. A ghost – almost the spitting image of Roman but with a large moustache – loomed over him, his hand raised to keep Janus in place without touching him at all.

“Get away from him!” Virgil thundered.

The ghost reeled back in surprise, and Janus dropped to the floor.

When Janus stood, he folded his arms and glared at his rescuers. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We were saving you,” Logan informed him as casually as if he was telling him about the weather, but his face was so pale he looked dangerously close to fainting.

When Virgil saw Patton rush over to check Janus was ok, he stepped back and put a supportive arm around Logan’s waist. Logan leaned on his shoulder, his breathing heavy.

“Saving me?” Janus shrieked.

“Yeah, from the evil ghost,” Patton said helpfully, once he seemed satisfied that Janus wasn’t wounded.

“He’s not evil!” Janus gasped, and he laughed. He actually laughed and looked to the ghost as if his friends were the ones being ridiculous.

“You don’t know him,” Roman warned, floating forwards to stand protectively in front of Virgil and Logan. “He’s a murderer.”

Janus’ eyes widened, but the ghost looked just as confused as him.

“What the fuck? I never killed anybody!” The ghost protested, waving his hands as if to plead innocence in a way that would have been comical were it not for the gravity of the situation.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Remus,” Roman said gravely. He took another step forward, the air around him seeming to crackle with his anger alone. “You killed me!”

Remus’ mouth dropped open, and he stared with wide eyes at the shocked faces around the room, eventually settling on Roman. “No, I- I didn’t,” he said, his voice quiet and serious. “Ro, how could you think that? I would never hurt-”

“Enough!” Roman snapped. He stalked towards his brother and poked a finger at his chest. “You bashed my head in with your Morningstar!” His entire body flickered, and a deep gash in his head was visible for a second before he returned to normal.

“Wha…?” Remus gaped at him, then his brow creased as he seemed to realise something. “Oh. The Morningstar. That… that makes sense…”

“So you admit it?” Roman asked. There was something fragile in his voice, as if he’d been hoping it wasn’t true this entire time.

“No!” Remus waved his hands again, almost hitting Roman in the face. “Christ no, I swear I didn’t. Roman, I died before you.”

Roman took a step back, perplexed. “Impossible. If you died before me, how did you kill me?”

“I didn’t!” Remus insisted. “Rowena sent assassins after us! I tried to fight them off with my Morningstar, stop them from getting to you. But…” He shrugged, his body rippling until a nasty wound showed in his gut.

Roman gasped. “Holy shit, Re…”

“They must have taken my Morningstar after they killed me,” Remus said as the wound faded again.

“So… Rowena did this to us?” Roman huffed. “That bitch!”

“I’m sorry… who’s Rowena?” Logan asked. He still looked a little out of it, but his voice was steady. Virgil stroked his arm, and he leaned into the touch.

Both brothers turned to Logan, as if only just remembering they had company.

“Rowena is our sister,” Roman told him.

“Nasty cow,” Remus muttered. “When our father got ill, she knew Roman and I were both in line to inherit the estate before her. So, when we were on holiday at our summer house,” he gestured to the building around them, “she sent people to get rid of us.”

“I hope she’s not still in charge of everything,” Roman added.

“Rowena?” Janus asked, eyebrows knitting in thought. “You mean that old hag who owned the estate down the road? She died years ago.”

“Who owns it now?” Remus asked eagerly.

“Some guy called Remington, I think,” Janus said. “I’m not an expert on the area, my aunt just used to live nearby.”

“Little Remy?” Roman gasped, his eyes lighting up. “He’s our cousin! He was only young when we died, but I think our estate is in good hands with him.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid,” Remus agreed. “I taught him to swear!”

“Remus!” Roman looked scandalised. “He was two years old!”

Remus shrugged, waving Roman’s concerns off like he was a pesky fly. “Anyway, before you interrupted us, Janus and I were in the middle of something, so if we could just get back to that…”

“Wait, if he wasn’t trying to kill you, what were you doing?” Virgil asked Janus.

Janus spread his hands in a gesture which proceeded many of his elaborate lies that had gotten them out of countless detentions in the past. “We were… running an experiment. To see if Remus’ telekinesis works on people.”

Virgil raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really?”

“Nah, we were trying to make out,” Remus said with a giggle.

Janus shot him a glare, but judging by the blush that spread over his face, Remus was telling the truth.

“Can you make out with a ghost?” Logan asked, and Virgil just caught his gaze briefly flicking towards Roman.

Janus gave him a frustrated look. “That’s what we were trying to figure out. So, if you don’t mind,” he said, beginning to usher his friends out of the door.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but he obligingly dragged Patton and Logan out of the room with him. They stood outside the door with Roman for a second, looking at each other in shock, before Roman began to stride back down the hallway towards his side of the house.

“Well, now the East Wing is off limits for a completely different reason. Unless anyone wants to risk walking in on that,” he grimaced.

Virgil exchanged a glance with his friends, and they all hurried after Roman.

-----

Virgil barely made it into Roman’s room before he sank to the floor, sliding down the doorframe to lean, exhausted, against the wall. Patton sat cross-legged beside him, but Logan stubbornly remained standing.

“Lo, sweetie you should sit down,” Patton insisted, looking worriedly at Logan’s pallor.

“I’m fine,” Logan said firmly, though his voice was a little strained.

“L-” Virgil began, but he couldn’t get a word out before an armchair slid across the room, knocking Logan’s feet from under him so he fell back onto the squashy cushions.

“You’re sitting down, I’m not having anyone fainting on my watch,” Roman said, but his voice was soft.

Logan grumbled under his breath, but he didn’t look like he wanted to move.

“So…” Roman stood in front of the three, the only one of the group who seemed to have much energy left after the eventful day. “Where were we? Ah, right! How many rooms will you want? Are you three together?”

Virgil sat up bolt right, spluttering, and Patton let out a little squeak of shock.

“Of course we’re not,” Logan said, so quickly and firmly that Virgil couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. He’d always known he didn’t have a chance with Logan, but hearing Logan act as if the idea of loving him was unreasonable… that stung. Logan seemed to realise how harsh he sounded. “I mean, not that I have anything against polyamory. I am polyamorous, but us three… we’re not together, no.”

“Pol-y-am-or-y,” Roman sounded out, testing the word on his tongue.

“It means… when someone is, or would be open to being, in a relationship with more than one partner,” Logan clarified.

“Oh…” Roman’s voice was suddenly small, and as he looked down at his hands, Virgil noticed his chin starting to tremble. Then, like the breaking of dawn, the smallest and softest of smiles crept onto his face. “There’s a word for it. That… I like that. Polyamory…”

Logan smiled along with Roman, watching his face the way he’d always gazed at the stars; with wonder, as if his smile held all the secrets of the universe.

“I didn’t know you were poly, Lo,” Patton piped up quietly.

Logan turned his smile to Patton, and it stayed just as soft. “I didn’t know myself until recently.”

Patton grinned. “Well, I’m glad you figured it out. I don’t think I ever told you, but… I am too.”

Virgil’s hoodie strings were thoroughly twisted around his fingers. He hadn’t considered coming out to his friends before, given that they were the reason he knew he was polyamorous, and telling them would feel a little too close to a confession. But in the warm atmosphere of Roman’s room, with the other three looking so happily at each other, he felt it might be time. “I’m polyamorous,” Virgil blurted before he could talk himself out of it.

Only when Patton rested a hand on his shoulder did Virgil realise he was shaking. “It’s ok, honey. I’m really proud of you for coming out, I know it takes a lot,” Patton murmured soothingly, rubbing his arm.

“As am I,” Logan said, and when he turned his smile on Virgil, the whole universe seemed to light up. “Thank you for sharing this with us. How long have you known?”

Virgil looked down at his hands. This was his chance. Nothing would come of telling them how he felt; Logan had been pretty clear about his opinion on being in a relationship with Virgil, and he had no reason to think Patton might have feelings for him. Telling them would just be a weight off his chest, entirely selfish… but Janus had said it was ok to be a little selfish. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye, but he untangled one hand to gesture to Patton. “When we were at yours for the New Year’s Eve party last year… and the three of us sat on the roof. I’d never really been sure about crushes before, but that night, looking at you two under all those stars – Patton, you were wearing that soft blue jumper, and Logan you had that suit with the galaxy tie I gave you for Christmas – you looked so beautiful. And I knew… it was you. Both of you…” He sighed, not wanting to risk looking up and seeing their reactions. “I know that neither of you feel the same, but…”

He heard a shift of fabric, and the next thing he knew Logan was kneeling on the floor in front of him. Logan’s fingers brushed against his, and when Virgil didn’t resist, Logan firmly took hold of his hand. “I remember when you gave me that tie. On Christmas Eve last year, my parents told me we were going to stay with my cousins, all last minute arrangements, and I was only able to let you and Patton know an hour before we left. You showed up on my doorstep fifteen minutes later, sweaty and out of breath-”

“I must have looked a mess,” Virgil muttered.

Logan squeezed his hand, and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Because you’d run all the way from your house, so you could give me my Christmas present before I left. And the fact that you would do that all for me, it made my chest feel so warm. I’d known I had feelings for Patton for a long time, but that was the moment I realised… you, as well.”

Virgil stared at him in stunned silence, gazing at the smile so bright and genuine it brought tears to his eyes.

And Patton’s hand was there to wipe them away. Just as he always had been, he was there when Virgil needed him, with a smile on his face and warmth in his eyes. “If we’re sharing our feelings right now, I guess I should say that I love you two a whole lot.”

“Patton…” Logan’s voice was choked. “I… may I hug you?”

Patton’s smile turned brilliantly bright, and he wrapped an arm around Logan, and his other around Virgil, pulling them close. Logan rested his head on Patton’s shoulder and let out a contented sigh.

Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand and nuzzled into Patton’s neck. As he turned his head, he glimpsed Roman, who was backing silently out of the door. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice coming out a little too petulant for his liking.

Roman flashed him a smile just as dazzling as every other one he’d shown him, but his eyes were undeniably sad. “This seems like… a personal moment. I thought I should leave you three alone.”

“Well, the three of us still have a lot to talk about,” Logan reasoned. “But you’re part of this conversation too. You seemed quite interested in the notion of polyamory.” He nodded to a gap in their makeshift circle. “Come on, sit down.”

Roman hesitated, but he lowered himself towards the floor, and settled there with crossed legs. “Yes. I am… polyamorous, as you say,” he began slowly. His eyes drifted down to the floor as a wistful expression crossed his face. “There were people, when I was alive, who I… I could have…” He sniffed sadly. “But I never told them, and they’ll be long gone by now. I suppose I’ve missed my chance at romance.”

Virgil thought that statement was a little absurd, considering how soft Patton’s gaze was as he stared at Roman, and Logan’s contained much more than just curiosity. A look passed between the three of them, just as many had done throughout the years they’d known each other. And through that silent communication, they all knew what to do next. Virgil placed his free hand on the dusty carpet, just close enough to feel the cold emanating from Roman’s fingers, as Logan did the same. With his arms still around Virgil and Logan, Patton smiled at Roman.

“Actually, I don’t think you have.”

#sanders sides #ts lamp #dukeceit #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts virgil #ts janus #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #sanders sides fanfiction #btw the tune janus plays on the piano is the opening of forbidden fruit

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 13: Perception

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: Maybe it's inevitable. Definitely cried like an adult while writing parts of this. I'm a weepy baby. I hope you imagine an ugly MySpace style sparkly gif every time Y/N uses the word "kidnapping". As always, appreciate you guys <3

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Buzz.

You peeked one eye open and caught sight of the smart phone dancing around on the nightstand close by. Strong arms were wrapped around you and there was no mistaking who they belonged to this time. Liu. You’d fallen asleep next to each other and somewhere along the line, in unconsciousness, he’d cuddled against you.

This was fine.

This was all fine.

The phone continued to dance and nearly vibrated right off the edge of the nightstand and onto the floor. You grabbed it from its place near the edge and wiped your eyes with your other hand. Johnny Cage. Rubbing your eyes again, you checked the time on the phone. It was nine at night. Carefully you snuck out of Liu’s arms without waking him. You’d mastered sneaking out of bed while you’d been dating Kung Lao. He was so heavy a sleeper that in the beginning of your relationship you had wound up trapped beneath his arms for hours. Then when you tried to get away, you’d wake him up. Eventually you’d mastered maneuvering from his grasp without waking him because waking him led to fooling around or talking and then you were either trapped having to pee or late for some responsibility or another.

Liu adjusted behind you but didn’t wake up. You fixed your askew shirt, grabbed your keycard, and then answered the phone and stepped into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind you.

“This is weird. I don’t think I even got your name earlier.” Johnny spoke without waiting for you to acknowledge him. You chuckled beneath your breath then cleared the sleepiness from your throat. “I know that may seem like it’s a pretty common thing for me but…”

“Y/N. You can call me Y/N.” You interrupted what you were sure was a very cleverly crafted explanation about his popularity and fame. Johnny Cage seemed like the type to be easily derailed from a topic with banter. You’d become skilled at wrangling men like that given that Kung Lao had been your other half for so long.

“And you’re from China, right?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Just trying to make sure I spell your name right…” His voice was distant, as if he spoke nowhere near the phone. You spelled your name for him with a sigh. “Is that…?”

“That is not important right now.” You interrupted him again. You had to keep him on task or this conversation was going to go on forever.

“Right, yes. I’ve been thinking about this morning.”

“And?”

“I was hoping to hash out the details with you guys before I officially agree to anything.” Johnny Cage tried to sound like he was bargaining with you but you were already convinced that he was joining you. This seemed like a formality. Or like he was dragging it out. Why? You couldn’t think of a good reason. Maybe to try and land a date with Sonya? You didn’t think that was going to happen and also it seemed petty. Then again, you and Liu were a hot mess in the middle of all of this so you couldn’t criticize anyone else’s motives. “I’ve begun clearing my schedule for the next few weeks but I’m a busy man, you know. Takes time.”

“I understand that. I’m sure that we can meet tomorrow to answer any questions you may still have.” There was no point in arguing with him on that. It was a reasonable request though not entirely necessary. Besides, you were still ready to jump to the kidnapping stage of this endeavor. If he caused too much trouble tomorrow then you would promptly lure him somewhere quiet and knock him out. Then you’d go from there. You could probably convince Cole to help you if you had to but you didn’t think it would go that far.

“That’s exactly what I hoped to hear!” You could hear the smile on Johnny’s face. “When we’re off the phone, I’ll text you where to meet me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You yawned.

“I wanted to ask you something. You seem like a nice woman.”

Oh, how misguided a man Johnny Cage was. Oddly trusting for someone in his position. Here you were planning out an elaborate scheme to kidnap him and drag him to China and he thought you were nice. It was probably the tea thing from earlier. Ah, well. You’d fooled him.

“Ask away, Mr. Cage.”

“Just Johnny, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

Then he sighed as if trying to word his question or embarrassed to ask it. You waited patiently. There was no need to rush him. You weren’t sure that Johnny Cage could be rushed. “Are you guys for real? Or are you just dicking me around? No one put you up to this, right?” After everything that you had showed him that morning, he was still stuck on the idea of this being a prank. Was Johnny often victim to silly pranks? Did he find himself the butt end of a joke amongst friends? It was funny to imagine.

“I know that this is… what’s the saying? Difficult medicine to take?” You weren’t so good with the English idioms. Maybe that was why he thought you to be nice. You were far more sarcastic in your native tongue. Your English was good but stuff didn’t always come out right.

“Hard pill to swallow but I got the point.” Johnny chuckled. “…so yeah? It’s true?”

“Trust me, Mr. Cage, I have much better things to do than play silly pranks on you.” You reassured him but he scoffed as if insulted. “That and I’d never heard of you before this.” It sounded like you’d punched him. Ah, yes, the delicate male ego.

“Low blow. Never heard of me?” You could picture the horror on his face.

“No offense meant.”

“I bet you just didn’t remember my name. Dragon Fist? Cage Match? Aquatic Assault? Exiting the Dragon of Death? A personal favorite of mine…”

“Exiting the Dragon of Death?”

“Yeah? You’ve heard of that one?”

“No.”

“Come on, don’t play with me like that.”

“I couldn’t resist.” You spoke over him as he made to list more movies. “I’m sorry to have offended you.” You were certain this could go on all night and you were still tired and now you were hungry too. Your appetite was back and you were far less shaky than you’d been earlier that day. “I did watch one of your films last night with a friend so that I could be familiar with your movement patterns.”

“For that crazy duplication thing you did?”

“For my arcana, yes.”

“…and?”

“It was a fun movie.”

“Which one did you watch?”

“Mr. Cage, this is a conversation for another time. Can we stay on topic?”

“Just Johnny, please.” Apparently no, he could not stay on topic. You pulled the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear your heavy sigh. Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned and found Cole approaching holding an ice bucket and offering a wave. He stopped next to you and nodded toward the phone. You mouthed that it was Johnny Cage. Then he offered you a thumbs up, pointed toward the end of the hall and walked away, presumably to get ice. “I’m making a choice to trust you. I don’t think you’re lying to me. I hope I’m making the right choice.”

“I’m a terrible liar so good choice.” He continued going on about something but your brain was tired of the babble. You needed food! This conversation felt like it would have gone on all week if you let him talk the way he wanted to. “Can I trust you no to dick us around?”

“I promise. You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”

“Text me the address and we’ll meet you just before noon.” You assured him.

“Got it. See you then.” Johnny hung up and you breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part of your trip was going smoothly. Seconds later your phone buzzed with a message from the same number. You selected the address and put it into the browser of your phone after figuring out how that worked. From what you could tell, the address seemed legit. A house by the shore. Of course, a beach house. Why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to show off?

“How’d it go?” Cole returned with his bucket full of ice.

“Mr. Cage is going to meet with us tomorrow to discuss details.”

“I anticipated us having to use your devious plan B so I’m surprised he’s going to meet with us.” Cole adjusted the bucket in his arms. “What do you think of him? I’m having a hard time taking him seriously.”

“I meant it when I said that I thought he was funny earlier. Honestly, if we had met without any of this pretense, I think that he and I would get along quite well.” You shrugged. “I also think that he’s going to do what he thinks is right if that’s what you were really asking. Seems like the type to talk a big game but ultimately a good guy.”

“That’s optimistic of you.”

“I usually have a good read on people.”

“I can tell.” Cole gestured toward your door. “You just getting in? Maybe not.” He looked down at your bare feet.

“I was napping.”

“And you came into the hallway to take a call?”

“Yeah, I was uh… going to grab food.”

“Without your shoes?”

“Are you always this nosy, Cole?”

“Not really but this afternoon has been especially boring. Plus, your reactions are entertaining.” Cole smirked. “You have more color now. That’s good to see.”

“Why does no one believe me when I say I’m just tired?” You gestured back to the room. “I’m gonna go.”

“We’re about to grab a bite to eat if you want to join us. Late dinner.”

“No, no, thank you though. That’s sweet. I’m okay.”

“You just said you were going to get food.” Cole laughed.

“…I think I’ll order something.” You pointed to your bare feet but was sure your expression was one that screamed you’d been caught in the most pointless of lies. Cole had inadvertently talked you into a corner. You hadn’t even meant to lie! It had just happened. This was why you didn’t usually bother.

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, turns out I am. I’m not good at it.”

“I can see that.”

The door to your room opened behind you and Liu Kang peeked into the hall, still looking sleepy.

“Hello Cole” Liu stepped into the hall and kept the door propped open a crack, back leaned against it. Then he bowed his head politely in greeting. He turned to you and spoke Chinese as if this weren’t suspicious. You didn’t think it had the intention that he wanted it to have. “Everything okay?”

“I had a call to take with Mr. Cage. No big deal.” You replied in English to try and make it seem like you had less to hide. Why? Because Cole was already giving you a look as if to say it was ‘nothing’. You sighed. “I’m just about done.”

“Good.” Liu replied in English. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him without meaning to then took a cleansing breath. He was just worried about you but you were tired of the worry. You felt far better than you had earlier. A few hours of sleep had done you good. “I really am fine.” Liu bowed his head politely to both you and Cole and then disappeared back into the hotel room.

“What was it you were saying earlier? About that being nothing?” Cole teased in a whisper after you made no move to offer any explanation.

“If you recall, I also said it was none of your business.” There was no point in trying to lie again. You folded too easily. Instead, you’d be evasive. That was easier. Avoiding the truth was far easier than twisting it at least for you.

“Liu looked pretty tired. You guys have a nice nap?”

“We fell asleep talking.” You narrowed your eyes at his implications but also hated how close he was to the truth.

“Sure, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

You shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Your ice is melting Cole. It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to mentally shift my definition of that word to better fit what I’m seeing.” He teased. “You’re trouble, Y/N. I’m making note of it.”

“You have no idea, Cole.” You pointed to the room behind you. “I’m going now.”

“Enjoy your nothing.” He called after you. You disappeared into the hotel room and then leaned against the door once it closed. You fiddled on your phone and sent a message to Jax, relaying what you’d learned from Johnny Cage along with the address and what you’d agreed to. The door to the small bathroom to your right opened and Liu stepped out, closing the door behind him. He waited patiently for you to finish on your phone.

“When I woke up and couldn’t find you, I was worried.” He nodded to the messy bed where you’d been sleeping. And snuggling. You mustn’t forget that there had been a fair amount of snuggling.

“My phone was ringing and it felt rude to answer it with you asleep so I stepped into the hall.” You shook the phone in your hand and then filled him in on the conversation you’d shared with Johnny Cage. You left out the exhausting banter that had kept you on the phone for far longer than necessary. Even if it had been mentally exhausting, you had also enjoyed talking with him. Your phone buzzed with Jax’s response. “Okay, Jax is going to arrange a ride to take us to meet Johnny tomorrow. He’ll also let everyone else know where to meet.”

“Good.”

Silence followed and you stood awkwardly in the small entranceway of the hotel room.

“So.” You began.

“So.”

“You should probably go, right?”

“Yeah.” Liu shifted but made no move to leave and a smile played on his lips. “Or… I could stay. We could order some food and continue our… getting along for the day.”

“Mostly getting along.” You corrected. Maybe he’d chosen to forget when he’d pushed you against the wall and you’d nearly undressed him. You blinked the mental image away. If you thought about it for too long then you’d probably end up right back where you’d started. “We could. Is that what you wanted to do?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I guess.”

“There was a menu around here somewhere.” Liu walked back into the open area of the room and you were grateful he’d taken the initiative to make the decision to stay. In all honesty, his presence was comforting and conflicting. You craved the comfort but the guilt and pain made you want to push him away. Your brain was such a mess. Your emotions were even worse. You joined him and mulled over the menu, trying to discern what was safe for you to eat. Liu called to place the order since he had several questions about the food. His diet was more specific than yours was. You had never quite taken to the vegetarian diet completely. Your food arrived and you sat on your bed and ate while making quiet conversation. It was pleasant, if not a little awkward. In a way, it was reminiscent of when you would spend time alone together when you were first dating Kung Lao. You had often avoided discussing the difficult things then but not for the sake of each other. Instead, it was for Kung Lao.

“Cole seems to have taken a shine to you.”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy and his family is cute. I think he feels guilty about Kung Lao so he’s compensating a little.”

“I could see that. I tried to reassure him that he isn’t to blame.”

“I did too.” You clicked your tongue in amusement. Liu gently nudged you with his shoulder.

“Today was nice.”

“I mean, parts of it were.”

“We had a bit of a rough start but things didn’t end so horribly.”

“Well,” you began in a higher, nervous pitch, “we didn’t exactly fix anything.” Liu laughed. “And I think we definitely made things worse but… all things considered, neither one of us is dead and we aren’t screaming at each other so that’s something.”

“I was thinking and… maybe we don’t have to fix anything.” Liu avoided your eyes and began to clean up dinner. You knew why he was avoiding your eyes because you were looking at him like he’d lost his damn mind. He had. He was insane. You couldn’t keep going like this. You both knew that. “We can’t ignore it, obviously. But we can’t expect to resolve anything when we’re like this. We’re grieving, Y/N. We hurt each other. But I also think that it could be healthy to try and find a way to be content amongst all of that too. We can’t force a resolution, Y/N. I think that’s clear.” Liu’s smile was soft but strained, like talking about it so analytically pained him. “I don’t think I can handle this much misery all the time.”

“I understand.” You didn’t necessarily disagree with him you just couldn’t see the end either. He seemed to think there was some kind of happily ever after waiting for you and you didn’t think there was. The only end to life was death. Even if you found happiness eventually, life would continue moving. No amount of happiness would erase your history nor would it erase your trauma. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t find joy. You were just being realistic. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” You helped him gather the dishes. Liu then placed the tray aside on the desk. You picked up the tray and placed it carefully outside the door and then returned to him. “Surreal is maybe a better word for what we are right now.”

“Surreal works.” Liu’s smile was forced and it pained you. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Oh, you think so, hmm? Confident in that?”

“I am.” He grinned but you could still see that worry behind his dark eyes. Liu had never been a good liar either. It was a wonder that he’d fooled you all those years ago. Perhaps because he’d said all the things that you’d been afraid he’d say.

“I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that we decide not to talk to each other anymore and lose touch. Then in like, thirty years, we’ll reunite and reminisce about the old days. Then this won’t seem so complicated anymore.” You hadn’t realized how much you’d considered that as an option until then. Liu seemed alarmed. “What?”

“Is that what you plan to do?”

“That would imply that I’ve thought past today so… no.” You sat on the side of the bed facing the window. There was no way to open the window so this was as close to the breeze and the stars as you could get. “But it happens. People drift apart even after being as close as we were especially after traumatic stuff like this. And this is a pretty messed up thing we’re dealing with, Liu. I can’t pretend to know what will happen.”

“I don’t want to drift apart.” He sat next to you and cautiously placed a hand over yours on the bed between you. There were times where he treated you like a ticking time bomb. This was one of them.

“Of course not, Liu. I don’t want that to happen either.”

“You had that scenario pretty thought out.”

“This time, Liu? You’re the one overthinking things.”

“Maybe.” He watched out the window, but you felt his thumb brush over the back of your hand. Looking at the night sky was easier than looking at each other. But right now the night sky looked empty. You didn’t see the stars. Just the lights of busy Los Angeles, a thing which brought you no peace. “Do you think you’ll still be this cute in thirty years?”

“I uh…” You laughed and pretended to consider it. “I didn’t think about it. For the brief moment I considered this make-believe scenario, you were still cute.” You joked and nudged him playfully.

“You’re beautiful Y/N, so I’m sure you will be too.” Liu still didn’t look at you. “I always thought so. Even when I used to tease you.” You rolled your eyes at him in disgust and he laughed again. You were well beyond being bashful at his compliments.

“Cut it out, Liu.”

“I just don’t want to leave it unsaid.”

“It feels like you’re trying to butter me up.” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“Maybe. Or… perhaps this last week I’ve been cruel to you. I thought that I’d pay you a compliment instead.” That was as good an excuse as any. You had dug at each other quite a bit the past few days.

“I’m not vain.”

“I know. I always liked that about you.”

“Stop it, Liu. You’re freaking me out.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder.

“I won’t.” He leaned back on one arm. You reached for your phone on the bed behind you as it buzzed. Jax had verified the location online as legitimate. He’d even found out that the property belonged to Johnny. Apparently, Jax had been much more suspicious of him than you had been. You’d decided to trust Johnny. And if he lied to you then you’d just go to plan B. Kidnapping. Jax continued on to say that he’s pretty sure the asshole just wanted to show off his beach house. You chuckled. You’d thought the same thing. You replied quickly to ask if you were still to meet in the morning in the same place. Jax replied to be in the lobby by ten. “Going off without a hitch?”

“Are you spying on my conversation?” You cradled the phone protectively against your chest and pouted.

“I didn’t mean to.” You set the phone aside face up. You had nothing to hide anyway, you’d just been trying to lighten the mood. Then you watched the dark sky out the window and tried to find something positive to say about it. He was right. You’d had too much unpleasantness lately. “Kung Lao would have loved…”

“Do you think about that a lot? What Kung Lao would have thought or felt?”

“Don’t you?” You thought that was obvious. “We spent most of our time together. This is the longest I’ve been alone in years.”

“I… hadn’t considered that.” Liu’s eyes fell to the floor. There was plenty that you hadn’t thought regarding each other. “It must have been hard waking up next to me.” You sighed heavily. There were those difficult conversations you couldn’t seem to avoid. You didn’t know how to respond. That wasn’t an easy answer. If you could have lied and said it wasn’t weird than it would have been simpler. But lying had gotten you into this in the first place and you didn’t want to lie. You were so tired of hurting.

“I… yes.” You sighed and then closed your eyes tight. “But I confess that I miss being held.” You hated saying it and even got the chills as you did. You and Kung Lao had spent most nights at least next to each other if not tangled up in each other. Liu was watching you with those big sad puppy dog eyes of his again. “But I also feel selfish and awful for having briefly thought it was nice.”

“It’s okay to be selfish at times.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, as if nervous they would betray him as they had often done. “I confess that when I woke up alone, I panicked.” You smiled a little. You hadn’t considered that he would be upset to wake up alone after falling asleep next to you. Oh, boy. You were both a mess. “But then I remembered this was your room and you had nowhere to run, really.”

“Did you briefly consider that I was so dedicated to running away that I went and got another hotel room to avoid you?”

“No.” He laughed and then furrowed his brow as if trying to picture you doing that. “You didn’t consider that, did you?”

“Of course not.” You chuckled, resting your elbows on your knees. “The phone rang and I didn’t want to wake you. That’s about as far as I had thought.” Your head was pounding and you realized all at once that you were clenching your jaw. Ugh, tension headache. “At least this time I woke up with all of my clothes on.” Liu laughed softly and avoided your eyes. Then he laughed harder as if he’d just gotten the joke. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s kind of like déjà vu, isn’t it? You woke up next to me again and then I woke up alone.”

“You know, Liu, I’m trying, but that’s not funny.”

Still he laughed and you watched him in disbelief. Was it you? Were you the one cracking up?

“I have to laugh, Y/N. I have to or I think about how screwed up it is.” He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His face fell. You turned to watch him in disbelief and your stomach twisted up into knots. “I just couldn’t help myself, could I? I had to… cross that line.”

“Liu…” You didn’t want to fight again. You thought you had made a truce for the day.

“I have to say this, Y/N.” He turned his head to the side to look at you and you leaned on your side to better meet his eyes. They were so sad and it was killing you. “The woman that Kung Lao planned to spend the rest of his life with. Only a little while after he’s gone and I just… how selfish I am.” You searched his troubled eyes and then couldn’t help but laugh but you weren’t smiling either. Liu knit his brow in confusion.

“Liu, I… I said the same things to myself.” You offered a sympathetic smile but he didn’t seem relieved to hear that. “Not about you, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word selfish when describing you, really. Or at least meant it. Maybe out of anger… but I… how could I? Kung Lao’s best friend. His brother. I feel like I just lost him and I still, somehow, couldn’t manage to keep myself together well enough not to sleep with you.”

“Sometimes we’re a lot alike.”

“Most times it feels like we’re oil and water.” Now you avoided his eyes, afraid of what yours might reveal to him. “I’m sorry that I ran off that morning, Liu. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified and embarrassed and ashamed and… the idea of having to talk to you about it was too much.”

“Why were you so scared?” He turned on his side to face you, as if eager for this answer, as if he had been caught wondering that same thing for too long. “I know it was a… big thing but I…”

“I guess no matter how I played it in my head, it went wrong. You uh…” You were having a difficult time saying the words without getting upset. “I kept picturing us having to find a way to… be okay with… it being a mistake because… I…” You were frustrated with yourself for not being able to say it. “It felt like a mistake. Like we’d fallen into an old habit. Or that it was just… a transaction and I couldn’t hear those words again after everything. I was already falling apart and I don’t know what that would have done to me. And then… you being receptive to it would have been just as painful… I… Kung Lao…” You had to stop there. You were pretty sure you’d made your point.

“I think I get it.” His eyes were taking you in while yours were avoiding him and were most likely glassy with tears. “Maybe I didn’t consider how much I’d hurt you back then. It never crossed my mind until you brought it back up and I realized the damage I’d done. I hadn’t considered myself that important.” There was that similarity again. Neither one of you thought yourselves to be important to the other when it was far from the truth. “I wish I’d had a say in the matter that morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand now.” He sat up and offered you a hand to help your back up too. you took it and sat up with him but he didn’t let go of your hand. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I reacted so angrily. That I was so cold to you. I thought it might make things easier and put distance between us.”

“Did it work?”

“No. No, it didn’t. I wish, more than anything, that I could go back.” His eyes were dripping with sincerity and you avoided his gaze again. You couldn’t help but think that if this had been Kung Lao, you never would have had this conversation. Nothing ever would have gotten resolved. You had both avoided your emotions like the plague.

“To that morning? Hard pass, Liu.”

“Think about it. I could wake up with you. Keep you from running. We could talk.”

“That’s a fantasy, Liu. It wouldn’t have ended the way you want.” You threw him an accusatory glance. “You’re fantasizing. I was too panicked. I would have lashed out.”

“And maybe I could have kept a level head.”

“It’s a fantasy.”

“Let me have my fantasy, Y/N.” He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. His smile faded as he let go of your hand and closed some of the distance between you. Your instinct was to pull back but you didn’t. He pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. The loose strands of your long hair tickled your neck as they fell back into place. You turned your gaze away. His hand was warm as it rested on your cheek and you could feel him admiring you.

“Seems dangerous to let you.”

“Many good things can be dangerous, Y/N,” he whispered. You got the shivers and moistened your lips nervously. You should have moved back when you’d wanted to. You were so much closer than you’d realized and his lips brushed just against yours. He was going to kiss you and you knew what would happen. Tender kisses led to feverish kisses. No kiss between you had ever stayed just that. You had never once exchanged a soft, momentary kiss. Every single time you had wound up in his arms. His lips would treasure yours like they were something priceless and yours would tease his in return to make him want more. Then you’d be naked.

The more time you spent this close to Liu the more inevitable it seemed to wind up in his bed and you weren’t sure that was the right thing. You weren’t sure it wouldn’t destroy you. It was a dangerous way to think but he was right too. Many of the best things were often dangerous.

“Don’t.” You managed and caught his eyes, half-lidded and admiring your lips. His gaze snapped back up to yours and you watched as he took a careful breath. You could feel it against your lips. He was thinking it too. How dangerous this had become.

“Probably a bad idea, right?” His voice was low and just for you.

“An incredibly bad idea.” You tried to joke but your words fell flat. It was miserable being this close to him and not kissing him, against every instinct in your body. You could feel as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, as he weighed the pros and cons of defying you. You held your breath.

Then he scooted back a few inches. You felt like you could suddenly breathe, like the air was less thick than it had been so close to him. Your heart was hammering away and it was a headrush, as if to punish you for having wanted that kiss. You cleared your throat and put more distance between you. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop thinking about those marks you’d left on his back that you had so clearly felt earlier. Did he think of how you’d clung to him in passion every time he shifted and felt those scabs? That was truly a dangerous thought.

“It’s late. I should go.” He had turned away, but his eyes were wide and his breath was short, as though he were also fighting dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah. Good idea.” You got up and walked past him and around the bed. He followed you and then walked past you to the door. Then he bowed politely.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He looked hesitant, as if he were still considering crossing that line again.

“Get out, Liu.” You gestured to the door behind him, making the choice for him. He laughed and did just as you asked. Once he’d gone, you leaned against the door with a thud and whined. “What am I doing?” You closed your eyes tight and felt a wave of guilt weigh you down. Then you flipped the swing bar lock shut on the door as if this would provide you with protection from your stupid feelings.

Maybe you had to reconsider the situation.

Maybe this was inevitable.

Maybe guilt wasn’t enough to keep you from being attracted to Liu Kang.

It felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Kung Lao. It was too soon and you were too broken. But maybe someday it wouldn’t be those things. You weren’t sure how long either one of you could wait either. Spending the afternoon with Liu had been eye opening.

Next Chapter >>

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brittledame · 3 years

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢/𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐄𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐊

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢’𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭!

Birthdays, a single day marked down on the calendar. It’s the same date, unchanging, yet year after year, Taichi’s birthday still catches you by surprise. Nevertheless, while curled up in bed with his legs completely entangled in yours, came the discussion on how to spend it.

Taichi seemed indifferent about celebrating, soon claiming exhaustion and that had put the topic on ice until the next day. From the conversations in the weeks leading up to it, you gauged that he wasn’t into a party on his actual birthday, which unfortunately placed on a Tuesday this year. You wholeheartedly agreed – a mid-week hangover wasn’t in the cards.

After much back and forth with Taichi arguing he’s fine without a party for his 24th. You both finally come to an agreement of a small gathering with new and old friends and family that weekend.

Taichi, in all the years you’ve known him, can be summed up in two words: easy going. He was happy to have a party so long as it didn’t put either you or him out in anyway. As the date neared, you could tell from snippets of conversation that he was looking forward to meeting up with old high school friends and his parents that he hasn’t seen since January.

What Taichi didn’t agree or know about was that you were planning a surprise on his actual birthday. What he didn’t know won’t hurt. It was probably for the best because in the end, he was scheduled an entire gruelling day of university classes and work.

You bemoaned that it was a poor way to celebrate his day, but he shrugged it off. What else was he to do?

Now with today being the day, he was already up and gone before you could muster a kiss and a ‘happy birthday’. The rest of the day saw to you darting in and out of the shared apartment, followed by a stressing in the kitchen.

It was unexpected receiving a text that they asked him to stay back and being who he is, Taichi reluctantly agree for the paycheck. Guilt swelled inside you at the relief you felt reading that. The extra hour would give you plenty of time to finish arranging everything.

An hour later found you finishing up cooking a miniature feast to make up for the lacklustre day. You ended up ordering in some dishes in that you weren’t brave enough to conquer – the spread was enough to astound a food critique. You hoped that Taichi is hungry after nearly losing a finger by making the sukiyaki that he constantly craved.

You had asked his mother for the recipe, knowing that he’d appreciate it even if it wasn’t as great as hers. She was more than happy to pass it down to you, gushing about how sweet you are for doing it for her son. You weren’t compelled to tell her that you’d walk over a bed of fire for Taichi and everything he’s done for you. This was the least of what you could do for you.

It was as you rinsed off a plate, table set out with the modest layout of food, when the door creaks open.

“Babe, I’m home!” He calls out, keys rattling as he places them in the key dish.

“In the dining room,” you call out in kind.

Dropping the plate in the dish drainer to deal with later, you dry your hands and dart into the adjoining room, beating him by a hair of a second. He blinks at the streamers thrown around the room, following their colourful trails until his eyes widen as they alight on the food-laden table.

“Surprise!” You announce, arms held wide and invitingly. “I know this isn’t much, but I thought-“

Taichi doesn’t let you finish, instead sweeping you up in a strong, all-encompassing hug that quickly became his trademark.

“It’s perfect.” He murmurs into your hair, grip somehow becoming tighter as you run your hands through his hair.

Patting him on the back, you try to delay your own welling emotions by whispering back, “Happy birthday, iron giant.”

Taichi pulls away with a small grin. “I’m not even that tall, but okay.”

“Sure, mister six foot four.” You roll your eyes and grab his hand, tugging him towards the table and seating him. “Please tell me you’re hungry because I think I might cry if I have to throw this all out.”

“Absolutely famished.” Taichi replies, picking up his chopsticks and letting them hover in the air between dishes, as if he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Here, let me serve you up,” you offer, scooping up his bowl and piling it full of food that you think he’ll enjoy the most. His eyes light up at the loaded dish as you pass it off with a caution, “Please remember to chew, I don’t want to take you to the emergency room tonight.”

“I dunno,” he drawls, plopping a bite into his mouth and swallowing it. “Sounds like fun to me. They might even give me a sticker for being a good boy.”

Shaking your head at him, you take a seat and start eating alongside him. The conversation doesn’t waver, instead taking off to him gushing about how good everything tasted and morphs into surprise when you confess that you made some of them.

Even after long and tedious day, it warmed you to see him so full of vigour. Well, at least Taichi’s own special brand of it.

After the dishes are nearly empty and the table is cleared away, Taichi and you set up shop on the lounge. Stretching and drifting away in the post-food coma, the both of you watch the random movie Taichi selected with little interest, instead paying more attention to each other’s quiet comments on the acting.

From all the food you hated to see wasted, you were full enough to contemplate a life living out on the lounge, comfortably perched between his askew legs on the over-stuffed lounge. The poor slice of the cake that you had to rushed to pick up earlier today at abandoned on the coffee table Taichi was brave enough to put his feet up on – neither of you being eager enough to eat again so soon.

You softly knock your elbow into his ribcage. “No feet on the table, not when food is on it, please.”

He exaggerates a long-suffering groan before he bends forward and picks up the cake, settling back into place behind you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that you didn’t trust in the slightest.

“If you smash my face into that cake, Taichi, I swear-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling dearest.” He purrs, swiping some of the frosting off with his forefinger.

Knowing Taichi wouldn’t expose his plan, you’re silent as he tilts your head to meet his gaze head-on and smears the frosting on your lips. His breath fans across your skin and warms your rapidly heating cheeks.

“Now it’s time for dessert.”

You couldn’t deny Taichi on a good day, but on his birthday? You were happy to spend a night indulging every request he made.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝!

#taichi x reader #kawanishi taichi x reader #kawanishi taichi #taichi drabble #kawanishi x reader #shiratorizawa #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu x y/n #I wrote this in an hour and I wish I'd planned ahead rip #hq #hq x gender neutral reader #haikyuu reader insert

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mlm-writer · 4 years

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Replenish the Soul (Leeteuk x M!Reader)

Pairing: Park Jeongsu/Leeteuk x Husband!Reader (TRANS-FRIENDLY but does mention an naked chest once) Rating: PG Words: 701 Summary: Just a day out of your married life with Leeteuk. Note: This is a repost. It was originally posted on @lgbt-kpopimagines, but that blog died. Reposting to get everything properly in my masterlist. Tags: married life, domestic fluff and teasing

I felt warm, too warm, sweaty. Without even registering the world around me, I started flailing my limbs around, trying to get the covers off my damp body. It worked, until two arms restrained me, stopping me from moving around more. I started gaining consciousness then. The feeling of fingers tracing over the tattoos on my arms woke me with a feeling of familiarity. I smiled and opened my eyes. I turned my head to catch my husband draped half over me like an even hotter blanket. "Get off, I'm dying of the heat," I complained, voice husky from sleep. I couldn't help but laugh when Leeteuk moved to lie even more on me. "Oh you troublemaker!"

I freed my arms and attacked his sides with my fingers, tickling my love fully awake. He begged me to stop, but I didn't until he almost fell off the bed. I tried to pull him back onto the mattress, but he just dragged me down with him. We ended up on the wooden floor with me on top. I laughed and kissed his face. He tried to speak, but I wouldn’t let him. "Good… stop! Good m… oh God stop it! Mo… Let me finish!" I couldn't help but laugh at the playful frustration in his voice.

"I cannot help it. My husband is just so cute." I saw him blush and I just had to kiss him again. I helped him onto his feet and pulled him into my arms, our naked chests pressed against each other. "Good morning to you too, sunshine," I greeted him, "got anything on your schedule today?" Leeteuk shook his head. "Good, I will be making breakfast then." Leeteuk pecked my lips and started making the bed.

I left him in the bedroom, taking my phone off the dresser as I left. I put on some music, slow love songs to set the mood in the house. The sun lightened up the whole house, in spite of the curtains we had. It promised to create another hot day. I was halfway done with making breakfast, when I heard a chair scraping over the ground. I looked up to see Leeteuk sitting down with a lazy smile on his face, hair still wet from a shower. “Still tired, I see?” He caught onto my teasing tone and stretched.

I caught a glimpse of his stomach, when he raised his arms above his head. “It’s all because of you,” he replied with a playful smile. I put the plates on the table and sat down across from him. Our teasing went back and forth over breakfast, sometimes bordering on suggestive, but all for a good laugh until we were both tearing up at the table. Leeteuk offered to do the dishes, so I could wash up. When I was done, I found him in his little office room, trying to put a song together. I was about to leave him to his own devices, when he caught my reflection through his computer screen and turned around quickly. “Baby, come here”, he cooed as he took his headphones off. His hand waved at me, trying to reel me in like a fish.

I let out a fond sigh and sat down in his lap. There was little room, nowhere else to sit. It had become a nice passage of time for us, just listening to things he made and giving my opinion. I was not an expert, but my husband seemed to treat me like such. Leeteuk placed the headphones on my head, quite askew actually. I put them straight as he put on something. He stared at me like a child waiting for approval, studying my face as a mellow beat filled my ears. I bobbed my head along a little, nodding. When the short sample ended, I pushed one side off my ear. “I like this. I think you should use this.” The glee on his face was indescribable. He let me listen to some more samples; we got distracted, ended up watching videos on YouTube. It was not a productive day by society’s standards, but nothing replenished the soul like a day with the man one loved.

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imagine-that-haikyuu · 4 years

Note

Hello babe! Please can you write a scenario where reader is shiratorizawa's manager *2nd year* and she's Ushijima's crush and one day she offers him to toss him some balls in the "gym"??? Late while no one's around and they talk while practicing and he keeps hinting that he likes her and he wants to ask her out and they both a blush mess? thank you!

I wasn’t sure how to make Ushi hint anything because that boy is as blunt as they come, but oh my god did I try

- Admin Rachel Lauren

Ko-fi

Ushijima has little doubt that Shirabu and Eita will set up a toss he can’t hit, but even he knows mistakes happen. There’s nothing more affirming than being able to land a spike even when the toss to him goes askew. It’s an exercise in honing dependability as a skill.

Thankfully, he has good help with that today. Team practice ended some time ago, but he’s still on the court. You’re nearby with the cart full of volleyballs by your side. Maybe he should have asked his teammates to do this instead, or even one of the underclassmen who aren’t yet on the starting line-up. As team manager, you’re not obligated to stay during any free practices, but any time Ushijima asks for your assistance, you’re more than glad to aid in any way you can.

That and this was his teammates idea in the first place. As a third year, Ushijima doesn’t get a whole lot of time to interact with you–a second-year–outside of the context of volleyball. Reon may have been the first to pick up on Ushijima’s crush on you. Even though he never once said it aloud, he wonders what tipped him off; he’s hardly the type to make those things obvious. It may just be instinct, and by virtue of the fact that the two have been playing together longer than anyone else on the team.

He remembers the conversation unfolding in the clubroom after practice one night.

“Otani in Kawanishi’s class is pretty cute, but Endo in class 3-1 is the ideal. How about you, Ushijima?”

“His type is ____,” Reon throws out with a bit of a playful grin. Ushijima turns to him with one eyebrow cocked. Tendou nods thoughtfully at this, eyes closed and a finger to his chin in contemplation.

“Oh, so a sports team captain and manager scenario is your thing, Wakatoshi-kun? I should have known,” Tendou hums.

“Wait, how do you even know that?” Semi asks Reon.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

They both look to Ushijima who’s returned to gathering his belongings. He offers little hints as to where Reon’s assertion comes from. Semi shakes his head.

Reon shrugs, still grinning all the while. “Well, I guess it’s just intuition then.”

“Reon’s right. I find ____ very cute,” Ushijima finally says. A silence falls over the room at his sudden confession. In typical fashion, there’s no hesitation to his statement, no hint of embarrassment, only a statement of his truth. “She can also keep up with my volleyball schedule.”

“Well, yeah, she has to. She’s our manager,” Semi adds.

Tendou suggests with a casual wave, “You should have her help you do extra practice so you can get in some more ____ time.”

And from there, the plan starts to unfold. After discussing the best course of action, Ushijima is given what he can only hope is proper ammunition by his teammates. The next day, once practice proper concludes, he asks for your help with additional spiking practice.

“Of course!” you agree. There’s a twinkle in your eye and a slight blush across your cheeks as you go to retrieve the ball cart. Ushijima readies himself while you roll the cart over and take the first ball out. “Ready?”

He nods. You give the volleyball a toss up into the air. You’ve watched Shirabu and Semi set to him enough times to know roughly how high and how far away from the net he likes to spike from. It’s by no means perfect–you’re not a volleyball player after all–but Ushijima seems to have little trouble with it. Still, you decide to inquire about it.

“Was that a good toss?” you question.

Ushijima freezes. If you had to describe the expression on his face, it would be “lost in thought.” The team prepped him for this exact scenario the night before.

“She’ll probably ask you at some point, ‘Was that toss good?’” Tendou says. “Knowing you, you’ll probably just give her a hard yes or no, but that won’t do! If she asks, tell her that any toss she gives you is a good one.”

Ushijima blinks. “But that isn’t helpful for either of us.”

Tendou drops his head with a huff, but quickly regains his composure.“Um, it’ll be helpful in your love life. You’re welcome.”

“And we’re letting Tendou give out dating advice because?” Semi asks.

“Because you’re going on zero dates with that piss poor sense of fashion, Semisemi.”

At this point, Ushijima tunes them both out, as they don’t offer him much more advice and spend the next few minutes bickering instead.

“Any toss you give me is a good toss.”

There’s complete silence from you after he says this. Expecting a response, Ushijima watches your face journey. From an open mouth and slightly-widened eyes, to furrowed brows and a cocked head, finally to a wide grin with a giggle that’s practically music to his ears.

“I’ve never heard you joke like that before, Ushijima-san,” you admit, trying to curb your laughter.

His teammates didn’t prepare him for this response. No, they assumed you’d get flushed and flustered, then try to quickly bring it back to spiking practice. There was no plan for you thinking he was joking around. He’s flying solo now, and he’s going to handle this the only way he knows how.

“That wasn’t a joke,” he says. It effectively wipes the grin off of your face. “I will hit whatever you toss to me. Otherwise, I’d be wasting both of our efforts.”

It’s something he remembers his dad mentioning to him when he was younger: that relationships are a give and take. If he ever found the right person, he would have to lay down the groundwork for a partnership. He’s been told he can be selfish as a volleyball player, but even he knows that this goes beyond his own desires.

His words now have left you a little flustered, if the way you start stammering is any indication of that. “Um, you–I–this is very unlike you, Ushijima-san.” You cough once to clear your throat. “ Is everything alright?”

He shakes his head and takes a step toward you. “You bring out something different in me, and I don’t necessarily mind that.”

Now you’re a blushing mess. You cup your hands to your cheeks, hoping to mask the telltale sign of your embarrassment. Despite this, you can’t look at him. Your eyes are fixed firmly to the gym floor as he approaches.

“Wh-what? Come on, you really must be teasing me now. Did Tendou put you up to this or–”

“I like you, ____ ____.”

Maybe it’s too formal to call you by your full name, but saying those words aloud is enough to make him smile. It invigorates him, differently from how a good volleyball match does, but it fires him up almost all the same. Ushijima’s smiles, while small and very rare, are never forced. Between the fingers you’re now peering at him through, you catch a glimpse of his smile. The stuttering and stammering stop. You slowly let your hands fall back to your side. Your face is still warm, but it’s a sweeter warmth.

Giving him a smile of your own–the one that he gradually fell for over the past year–you return his sentiment.

“I like you too.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #request #admin rachel lauren #i missed writing ushi you guuuuuyyysssss #anonymous

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writer-room · 3 years

Text

Well, Could’ve Been Worse

AO3

Summary: No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important. His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely. His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person. If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him. Also known as: Tim makes stupid decisions when on a caffeine crash + sleep deprivation. Kon, sadly, has to deal with that at the worst hours.

Kon’s powers were...weird. Unstable, if you wanted to be specific. Not as bad as it used to be, but it still wasn’t the same as Clark’s. Thank you again, Luthor.

Which means that if he’s conscious enough to check every now and again, he can do the whole ‘call my name and I’ll be there in about four seconds’ schtick, but it didn’t go so well when he was asleep. Cassie said he slept like the dead, to which Bart insisted that if there was ever food involved, he’d be wide awake faster than he could run across a room.

Both were ridiculous, but whatever.

Tim, at least, had tried to assure Kon that surely Clark couldn’t hear disasters going on when he was asleep. Tim wasn’t one who was often wrong, but Kon was willing to play a risky betting game on this one.

It made sleeping a little anxiety-inducing for a while, knowing that if something happened. he wouldn’t know anything about it until he woke up. Tim had said that it was normal to hate sleeping because of hero business.

Kon always thought of that comment every time he caught Tim awake at ungodly hours for days on end, staying up purely because of caffeine and spite. He should probably bring that up sometime.

The point was, Kon didn’t hear things when he was asleep. Which could be a good and bad thing in its own right. He isn’t, however, impervious to an obnoxiously loud ringing going off by his head.

Kon snorted as he woke, his phone ringing eerily sudden in the quiet of the Cave. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d passed out on the couch in the Cave. He suspiciously remembered something involving Cassie and arm wrestling landing him here, but he was too tired to care about that now.

His phone was on the ground beside him, a wonder nobody had stepped on it, especially Bart. It rang painfully loud, though that was probably because it was the first sound he’d heard in the past...however many hours it’d been. Kon resigned himself to slowly reaching down and pulling his phone up as he leaned against the arm of the couch. No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important.

His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely.

His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person.

If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him.

That’s a lie, he wouldn’t. Cassie, however, would kill him if he told her. So he could probably settle for that.

With a sigh, Kon mentally prepared to hear incoherent rambling he’d need to find Bart to interpret, and accepted the call.

“It’s two in the morning, Tim.” Was the first thing he said, letting his annoyance seep in.

“It’s like, two twenty-four,” Tim’s voice rasped over the phone, far scratchier than normal. “So if you woke up at normal times like everyone else, this wouldn’t be as big an issue.”

“You are not the person to be telling me how to go about my sleep schedule.” Kon scolded lightly. “So I sleep in till noon, so what?”

“You woke up at three--” Tim cut off with a series of coughing coming through. “--p.m yesterday.”

“Not the point,” Kon muttered. “Why are you calling? I thought you were still in the Cave?”

There was shuffling on the other line, and Tim’s voice came through more faded, like he was further from the phone.

“Oh, yeah, left a few hours ago on patrol,” Tim wheezed. “Thought I’d be back before Bart woke up. He’s been wakin’ at like...six a.m or something.”

“Tim,” Kon started.

“It was barely a patrol,” Tim puffed. “More like...doin' rounds and...grabbing something from Denny’s.”

Tim’s words were slurring here and there. He did so a lot when he started having caffeine withdrawal or was coming down from a Red Bull rush. Or was sleep deprived. None of those options were comforting.

“Did you find some villains?” Kon inquired, praying that there was a less ridiculous reason he was being woken up so late. “You need backup or something?”

“Woulda called like...the headquarters if I did, dude.”

Yeah, something was wrong.

“What’s this all about, then?” Kon asked, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch and standing. “Where are you?”

“Okay, okay,” Tim mumbled, his voice closer to the phone now. “Uh, you know...the Denny’s...but it’s by that weird tiny mall with the Starbucks?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about...two streets over from that. By a bustop. Don’t worry, don’t worry, street lamps are out.” Tim assured quickly.

“The street lamps are out?” Kon repeated.

“Broke ‘em.”

“Course you did,” Kon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood up. “Seriously, man, what’s going on? What happened?”

“M’fine,” Tim lied, poorly. “Just don’t like...tell Cassie. She’ll kill me. With her eyeballs.”

“Tim, I’m way too tired for you to dodge around questions right now.” Kon groaned. “What happened and why do you need me? If you're not answering this outright, I’m hanging up and going back to bed.”

That’s also a lie. A bad one, at that. He’d probably stay on the phone all night if Tim needed him to. Though he’d definitely try and wake Cassie or Bart to help him out, he’s not that loyal.

“I was getting to it!” Tim whined, and oh wow, he must really be delirious. Bart was gonna be so mad if there weren’t any videos later. “I just kinda...wasn’t payin’ attention n’ stuff.”

“Paying attention to what?”

“The road,”

Kon froze.

“What?”

“Got hit by a car,” Tim slurred. “S’cool though, got outta there fast. Happened like...five streets back.”

“What the hell, Tim?” Kon nearly dropped his phone, remembering last-minute to grab his jacket off the floor as he started to race to the nearest exit out of the Cave. “You need to start with the ‘I got hit by a car’ part, not correcting what time it is!”

“There was time,” Tim mumbled. “I’m not dyin’ or anything.”

“You were hit by a car.” Kon stressed, already in the air. Thank you, inhuman speed.

“But I’m not dying,” Tim said simply. “Doesn’t count. Just hurts like a b--”

“Hang on, I’m nearby.” Kon talked over him, landing on a rooftop. The streets had grown recognizable fast, and thankfully, if Tim was right about his coordinates, he wasn’t that far from the Justice Cave. Probably wasn’t smart to fly at ridiculous speeds at two in the morning when he was barely awake, but he was too preoccupied to care.

“Oh, cool.”

Kon shoved his phone in his pocket as he flew down from the rooftops, far slower this time. He scanned the streets quickly, almost skimming right over the bus stop Tim was at. The lack of light, plus his darker costume, was not helping matters.

Sure enough, Tim was where he said he’d be. He wasn’t even sitting on the bench. More like dramatically draped over it with his arms keeping him upright and legs strewn behind him. The nearest street lamps had been shattered, probably with whatever Tim carried in his utility belt these days.

And Christ, Tim was a mess.

He must’ve been wearing a concealer, or it was extra pronounced tonight, because he had heavy bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess and falling into his eyes, his mask slightly askew. His costume wasn’t in awful shape, but his cape was twisted around so that it hung sideways rather than regularly situated on his back, and he had a few small tears here and there. Aside from the palms of his gloves, those had bigger tears. Plus he had scuffs of gravel and dirt.

And blood, there was blood, too. Blood on his hands, knees, and smears on the side of his face. But all in all, he looked more dazed and bruised than anything.

“No big deal, huh?” Kon said, crouching down beside his friend.

“Had worse,” Tim mumbled, resting his cheek on the bench. “M’just tired, really.”

“That all?” Kon sighed, taking off his jacket as he debated if it would be worth it to patch up the small amount of bleeding he could see.

“Breathin’s being weird, too.” Tim added, as an afterthought. “Think I fractured something.”

“Of course you did,” Kon groaned, reaching out and turning Tim around so he was sitting upright, leaning against the bench.

Tim hissed in pain at the movement, eyes shutting for a moment as Kon paused, anxiously looking him over.

“Please don’t tell me you broke a rib,” Kon begged, more to himself than Tim as he reached out to feel his side.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Tim yelped, cringing away.

“Hospital,” Kon decided with a nod and a grimace. “You need a hospital.”

“I’m Red Robin,” Tim complained. “Can’t go to hospital. Dad would kill me.” He insisted, dramatically thunking his head back on the bench and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Medical attention, then.” Kon said. “At least until you pass out so we can take you to a hospital when you can’t complain about it.”

“You're so mean,” Tim whined, shifting his arm slightly to give Kon a glare. “Bart wouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Bart would probably be having a panic attack.”

“S’why I called you,” Tim mumbled, slumping down and off the side of the bench, leaving Kon to jump and support Tim’s head before it conked against the concrete. “Cassie woulda yelled at me.”

“She’s definitely going to yell at you now,” Kon agreed, gently keeping his hand on the back of Tim’s head as he pushed him back upright. “How did this even happen? Don’t you have ridiculously fast reflexes or something?”

“It was a hit n’ run, I know it was.” Tim rasped, weakly shaking a fist.

“You said you fled the scene.”

“Was still totally a hit n’ run,”

Kon sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument tonight. None of the bleeding was concerning, so instead he settled for dumping his jacket over Tim’s shoulders. He also picked up Tim’s phone from where it’d been discarded on the pavement, shoving it in one of the jackets pockets.

“Pretty sure you're just too tired to notice anything,” He muttered quietly, scooping his arms underneath Tim’s knees and back.

“Was gonna get more coffee, swear it.” Tim mumbled, letting himself go completely limp as Kon picked him up. “Came outta nowhere,”

“Next time I catch you pulling all-nighters, I’m sitting on you till you get proper sleep.” Kon threatened, giving Tim a half-hearted shake as he rose into the air.

“If you catch me,” Tim said cheerfully, giving a crooked smile.

Would’ve been a lot more charming if it weren’t for the fact it reopened what was apparently a still-healing cut on his lip.

Not that it was charming to begin with. Injured best friend, not the time. Kon shook his head.

“I’m Superboy, it won’t be hard.” Kon boasted, flying at a grudgingly slower speed back to the Cave. It probably wouldn’t help Tim if he went back at the same speed he arrived, the base wasn’t that far, anyway.

“You miss things all the time,” Tim huffed, raising a weak hand to presumably poke at Kon’s face, but ended up just flailing it around.

“Psh, not that often.” Kon rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you do,” Tim insisted, letting his head hang back, staring upside-down at the ground below them. “Obvious things. Miss ‘em all the time.”

“Like what?” Kon pressed. “And you're not allowed to say anything about the Justice League, they don’t count.”

Tim went quiet. Kon wondered for a brief, terrifying moment, that Tim really had passed out from his adrenaline rush before they made it to base. But then Tim raised his head and he could breathe easy.

Tim stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. It was his ‘I’m not sure if you're being sarcastic or actually an idiot’ face, which, honestly, could be better classified as ‘I’m judging you for being an idiot’ face, considering the circumstances he used it in.

Kon met his gaze, more than a little curious. Normally Tim would’ve started rattling off all the things he’s oblivious to on a daily basis. The hesitation was...well, not normal. He chalked it up to Tim being loopy from his whole ordeal.

“Stuff,” Tim decided, his head falling back to its original position so fast that Kon cringed.

“Descriptive,” Kon sighed, grateful for the sight of the Cave, speeding their flight.

“Shut up, I’m tired and broken.” Tim mumbled, his voice laced with drowsiness.

“Then maybe, and here’s a thought,” Kon said, landing just outside the Cave. “You don’t go days without sleep to the point you get hit by a car of all things.”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but Kon talked right over him.

“I know, I know, it’s very difficult to ask of you.” He said, his playful snooty tone lessened by the smugness that seeped in. “But with the right routine, I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“You sound like a horrifying combination of Alfred and Dick.” Tim grumbled, no less limp as Kon carried him inside the base. “I wish you had your sunglasses so I could break them--wait,” Tim raised his head again, squinting at Kon. “Where’s your glasses?”

“Didn’t really have time to grab them after, you know, you woke me up at two in the morning and stalled in telling me you were bleeding at a bus stop.” Kon snarked.

“It was two twenty-four,” Tim muttered quietly, drawing his arms up to his chest and looking away.

And dammit, Kon was almost convinced Krypto was rubbing off on Tim too much. The guy looked like a puppy after stealing food from the table. Which, frankly, was something Kon would also do if he had to eat the same thing every day. Clark hadn’t seen it that way, but whatever.

Kon held back a sigh, shuffling through the hallways. He could probably put Tim on the couch, right? Christ, Cassie was gonna bite off his head for waking her up.

“Just be careful, alright?” Kon murmured, resituating Tim in his arms. He got slippery after a while. “You don’t need to be up at all hours of the night to patrol,” He said, frowning to himself.

Tim reached up one of his arms and looped it around Kon’s neck, aiding Kon in holding him properly. His face turned to the side and pressed into Kon’s chest, huffing.

“You have your family to look after Gotham at night, anyway. That helps, doesn’t it?” Kon added.

“S’not the same,” Tim mumbled, his voice muffled.

Kon would’ve argued, really, he often does, but tonight just wasn’t the night. Tim was too battered for much of anything to sink in, and honestly, he was still tired. And he was pretty sure if he spent another ten minutes around Tim with nobody else to buffer, his common sense was going to finally kick in and make him start freaking out even more.

“At least take someone with you,” Kon settled on, craning his neck down so he could press his nose into Tim’s hair. It was still frazzled and greasy. “Bart’s already awake at ungodly hours. Jinny’s down for almost anything. Hell, I’d come with you if you asked.”

“You’d come without me asking.” Tim muffled, and Kon swore if he could see Tim’s face he’d be smirking. “Besides, you complain.”

“I complain, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.” Kon huffed, slowly moving his head back as he came to the couch he had, previously, been having a rather nice sleep on. “And honestly, if someone like you can end up getting hit by a regular car of all things, you probably shouldn’t be out on the streets on your own.”

“Piss off, it’s a bad night.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kon rolled his eyes, slowly leaning down so he could place Tim on the couch.

“Ow,” Tim groaned, his arm tightening around Kon’s neck as he was set down, his other hand coming up to fist the side of his uniform.

“Scale of one to ten, how bad can you guess it is?” Kon winced, slowly slipping his hands out from under Tim.

“Mm, well, it's not broken.” Tim slurred, refusing to unwrap his arm from Kon’s neck, leaving the super to awkwardly bend forward. “Probably just cracked. If it was broken, I would've lost a lung by now.”

“Ah,” Kon hummed anxiously, raising a hand to unwrap Tim’s arm from him. “That...is a nice thought.”

“Just told you it wasn’t broken,” Tim grumbled, glaring up at Kon as his arm was pried free.

“Your way of being comforting isn’t the best,” Kon admitted with a tilt of his head, stepping back. “Now you stay here, alright? I’m gonna get Cassie.”

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim groaned, pawing at his face until he caught the edge of his domino mask. “After today, I would’ve been better dumped in a ditch.”

“It’s still nighttime,” Kon reminded.

“Details,” Tim waved his free hand, the other peeling off his mask and letting it fall to the floor.

“Whatever, just don’t move.” Kon warned, pointing a finger close to Tim’s face. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, and the sight of that only added to the pit that was opening in Kon’s chest.

“Aye aye, captain.” Tim mumbled, giving a half-hearted salute before letting his arm dangle off the couch. The other came up to clutch at the jacket still around his shoulders, turning his head into it.

Kon has never so badly wished he’d taken his phone out of his jacket earlier so he could take a picture. Never, he swears.

And, of course, he also wished Tim wasn’t injured. That was the main issue here, really.

Kon hesitated, stepping around the couch and glancing back. Tim was never known to stay put when asked, but it seemed this time he was being merciful.

One friend down, two more to survive.

Could’ve gone worse, he reasoned as he creeped (in a poor attempt at being quiet) down the hallways towards Cassie’s room. A car was nothing. Except for a reminder that, unlike the rest of them, Tim wasn’t superpowered--but that was an anxiety for Tim to get offended about later.

And if Tim woke up hours later in a hospital, with Dick on the other line and Cassie seconds away from cracking the rest of his bones herself, at least Kon could rest easy knowing that he wouldn’t be pulling that stunt again any time soon. Or at least be more careful. He’d take what he could get.

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curedeity · 3 years

Text

Aquario's Rest

Summary: Hikaru and Madoka stay late at work one night, not the first and certainly not the last.

The last rays of the sunset had already disappeared over the horizon, and the light switch had been mindlessly flicked on as Hikaru had continued to work. Her fellow workers had slowly left the office, one by pair, packing up their things and going home for a good night’s sleep.

Hikaru, of course, remained, putting the finishing touches on next month’s tournament schedule.

Footsteps echoed through the empty office, harmonizing with the clack of her fingers on her laptop. Ryo stepped out of his room and sighed as he peered over at Hikaru at her desk. She blinked at him, blearily.

Most workers would be happy to leave as soon as their shift was over. Ryo didn’t reproach any of them this. He himself didn’t like working late, a good work-life balance was necessary. He had a son to spend time with. Hikaru, on the other hand, had deeply thrown herself into her work for the past year.

Finding her in the office as the clock ticked closer and closer towards the new day had almost become a routine, like when Gingka used to stay up late at night, watching stars with Hyoma, and Ryo would have to collect him. Gingka was easier to get home than Hikaru though, who even sleep-deprived could form good arguments.

Of course, there were some easy ways of dealing with this, and Ryo, in all his fatherly-instinct, had discovered them.

He snatched the keys to the office off Hikaru’s desk and quickly stepped away. “Looks like I lost my keys today, mind if I borrow yours? I can offer you a ride home while I lock up the office.”

“Or you could go home and I could lock up, Director,” Hikaru merely spared him a tired glare. Hikaru was a smart teenager, but she also had no qualms about sleeping at her desk. So in that respect, Hikaru was a very short-sighted teenager.

“But I really should be going now, and because of a small emergency we had to miss our 5pm meeting. You said you wanted to inform me about stadium management? It would be much more efficient to do that in the car.” Hopefully it would’ve taken long enough that Hikaru wouldn’t try to tell him right now.

Hikaru sighed and rubbed at her eyes. Glancing out the window, the sky was inordinately clear tonight. She could see the large crab constellation taking up the sky, cancer in all its summer glory. It was a rare occasion to be able to see the stars so beautifully in the city, going home and stargazing would be nice…

She closed her laptop and stuffed it into her bag. “Alright Director,” she told the man who seemed hellbent on adopting her. “You win.”

Ryo smirked and tossed the keys into the air, catching them again in a victorious motion. “You mind checking to see if anyone else is hanging around while I start locking up?” It was almost a rhetorical question, with how automatic the roles were. It took about ten minutes to lock up the whole building, and everyone had to be cleared out.

Hikaru padded through the hallways and started checking the rooms.

Faint rays of the moon lit the hallways, and Hikaru’s heels clicked as she walked. During the height of the workday, people would stop her as she walked from place to place, firing quick questions at her as they recognized it would probably get them a quicker response than an email. It was a lot of work, but Hikaru had found herself quickly rising to the challenge and excelling. Her memory had always been great, and there was some part of her that adored being able to help plan and manage this complex operation.

It was slowly becoming her passion, in the way battling had once been.

Besides, while battling, there were some things she had ignored.

The engineering department wasn’t quiet when she entered. This was normal, the whir of computers was a constant here during the day. Now, the room was filled with soft snores.

The smile that crossed Hikaru’s face was automatic, but she made no effort to remove it as she approached her sleeping friend. Madoka was slumped over her desk, her head laying on her arms. Her laptop was still on, its light flickering across Madoka’s form. A bey lay disassembled in front of her.

Madoka was just as hard worker as Hikaru, and late days at work, coffee breaks in early mornings, had quickly strengthened the bond between the girls. Hikaru… Hikaru loved working with her, the way Madoka would excitedly wave whenever Hikaru entered the department, the way she’d quickly babble about whatever she was working on.

The way they’d walk home together sometimes.

“Madoka,” Hikaru giggled as she crouched beside her friend, shaking her shoulder lightly. “It’s time to close up.”

Madoka groaned and buried her head deeper into her arms. Her body shivered slightly as it awoke, it was a rather cold night for the summer.

“Come on Madoka, the Director will give us a ride home,” Hikaru continued to encourage her drowsy friend.

Madoka glanced up at Hikaru with half-lidded eyes, her face the picture of misery. “Five more minutes,” she begged.

Hikaru slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into raucous laughter. “I’ll let you nap on my shoulder in the car,” Hikaru offered between huffs of amusement. Her face burned as her semi-joking suggestion sank in. Were they close enough friends to do this?

Yet Madoka seemed completely unaware as she unsteadily stood up. She swayed on her feet, eyes unfocused, and Hikaru instinctively threw an arm around her for balance. “Let’s get you home,” she whispered softly, leading her friend out the door.

“Hey Hikaru,” Ryo whisper-called from down the hall, raising a hand in a lackadaisical wave. “You ready to- Oh, hey Madoka.” He gave the tired mechanic a smile, taking in her complete exhaustion. “Looks like someone else was working for too long too.”

Hikaru and Madoka fixed him with identical glares, Madoka’s scariness coming out at full-force.

“Sir, can you just take us home?” Hikaru sighed, scrubbing a hand down her face.

The key jangled in the lock as Ryo locked the final door behind them, whistling as he shoved it in his pocket. “Come on, we’ll drop Madoka off first,” he announced as he led them to his car.

Hikaru had ridden home with her father-figure many times before, as he insisted on driving her if it got too late. Normally, she took the passenger seat, ostensibly to make sure Ryo wasn’t in control of the music. Today though, she slipped into the back with Madoka.

The stars outside were beautiful through Hikaru’s hazy vision. Her cheek was probably smudging the window as she leaned against it, but Ryo wouldn’t mind a bit of dirtiness. They twinkled brightly against the backdrop, like someone had spilled glitter over construction paper. Like a child had designed the world to be their perfect vision.

A head fell on her shoulder, and Hikaru nearly jumped out of her skin. Thankfully, her body remained calm, like Madoka’s breaths as she slept on Hikaru. Hair drifted out, falling in front of her face. Her goggles sat askew. Peacefully, she dozed on, arm against Hikaru’s arm as warmth passed between them.

Hikaru blinked down at her friend, breath torn from her lips.

Maybe the stars outside were beautiful, in a distant way. A perfection that could not hope to be imitated or reached. Hikaru wasn’t an astronaut, she’d never lay among the constellations.

But it paled in comparison to the beauty of existing side by side with another.

Hikaru hoped she never forgot, and that she never remembered, because realizing every so often how amazing people were, how amazing having friends was…

They pulled up outside the Beypit, Ryo twisting around in the driver's seat. “You need any help bringing her in?” His voice was so quiet it could not even be called a whisper. The night made them all silent.

“Nah, I got it sir,” Hikaru replied, unbuckling her seatbelt and Madoka’s. Digging through her bag, she found a spare set of keys that Madoka gave most her friends.

“The Beypit is open to all of you,” Madoka stated confidently, pressing the cold metal into Hikaru’s hands, her warm fingers curling around.

Madoka was small for her age, a shortie, as many of their friends affectionately called her. It was easy to lift her up and carry her to the door, carefully unlocking it while not jostling Madoka too much.

The lights flickered on as Hikaru hit the switch, and she groaned as harsh illumination filled the shop. The sudden change pounded in her head, a headache for sure. But, she didn’t want to trip over anything while trying to navigate. It would be a disaster for both and Madoka to get hurt.

The metal stairs creaked with rusted sighs as Hikaru walked down them. Laying Madoka down on the couch, she glanced around for a blanket.

Gingka slept on that couch often when he was in town. Hikaru would come visit and find them both hanging out in the basement. She… didn’t even know where Madoka’s bedroom was.

How many times had Madoka fallen asleep at her desk here? Did she spend the entire night there, head buried in arms as she had been at the WBBA?

Hikaru threw a blanket over her shivering friend, watching her curl up under the new warmth. Should she check in on Madoka more often, make sure she was going to bed? Would that get her to be called a hypocrite?

Maybe.

“Good night Madoka,” Hikaru breathed out into the air, silently walking back upstairs and out through the door.

She slid back into Ryo’s car, ready to be taken home to her apartment. The glow of her phone filled the backseat as she penned a text to Madoka.

“Night Madoka, hope you sleep okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#beyblade #beyblade metal fight #beybkade metal fusion #fanfic #fanfiction #aquarios rest #madoka amano #hikaru hasama #yes this is ship yes it is prerelarionship im sorry your honor i love these girls #post canon #me on my bullshit again #ryo and his ever growing collection of adopted children #bc these kids need a fucking parental figure PLEASE

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mork-lee-bee · 4 years

Text

Broken lovers II

Summary: Y/n is a hopeless romantic in love with someone who will never love her back and Jaehyun is helplessly in love with someone who only continues to hurt him over and over again, sounds like a match made in heaven right?

Pairings: CollegeStudent!Jaehyun X CollegeStudent!Y/N X CollegeStudent!Jaemin

Warnings: Cursing, reference to sex, toxic relationships

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

Chapter one

Next chapter

Your senses were a bit askew and confusing, you were used to the feeling of your empty bed and rougher textured blankets, while the ones you’re feeling now are much softer and because of the body next to you, it felt warmer. The smell of your vanilla perfume was replaced with the smell of orange or something citrusy at least, everything was different but still comforting. You woke up to the noise of other people probably talking in the hall. You rub your eyes and look around spotting Jaehyun sleeping peacefully his hand resting on your waist. You knew where you were and how you got there it wasn’t some vague memory you remember the lust and the feeling of euphoria the look in his eyes and the feeling in your stomach. As soon as you moved a little bit you realized you were very sore and moving would be a bitch. You could already imagine the numerous comments that Miyoung would remark as soon as she saw you.

You quietly remove yourself from Jaehyun, your head was slightly pounding not that it was a new feeling, you’d just fix it with some coffee and some fried food. You slipped the dress from last night back on and took a glance in the mirror in his room for a second to see your face, you looked like you’d been hit by a car. Your hair was a mess and your mascara was smeared under your eyes you walked like some kind of zombie over to the door.

You took one last glimpse at the sleeping figure in the bed, he looked so peaceful and kind. His softer features were nice, he had pretty eyelashes and just a kind face. You turned to leave out his door obviously this whole thing was a one-night stand type of deal, you’d probably never see him again in all honesty.

You opened the door slowly leading to it to release a high pitched squeak, you were really trying to be as quiet as possible, but the world was against that as you head for the stairs.

Johnny had woken up pretty early to clean up the disaster that was the frat house, usually, there were different issues, mainly spilled drinks that made the kitchen floor sticky or stained the carpet so he made an effort to try and help out with containing the mess as quickly as possible. Johnny held a garbage bag in one hand and was going through the rooms picking up discarded plastic solo cups, shoes, or other objects, he found a bunch of empty Soju bottles in the corner of a room and was picking them up mumbling under his breath. That’s when he spotted someone, she was covering her face and quietly walking down the stairs to the front door, clearly in a rush for some reason which was odd because it was a Saturday. He recognized her as the girl that Jaehyun was with, he remembered seeing the two of them talking and even watching Jaehyun smile until he disappeared at some point in the night, now it made sense. Johnny had assumed that Jaehyun got bored and went upstairs but this was much better, definitely, a step in the right direction for Jaehyun to move on. Johnny watched as the girl got to the front door unsure if he should stop her and get her number for Jaehyun possibly.

“Opennnnnn,” He could hear her mumble as she tried to figure out the front door, Johnny walked over smirking, the least he could do was help.

“Do you need help?” He asks politely and the girl jumps at the sound of someone, clearly not expecting anyone to be up although she didn’t know what time it was.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Johnny offers the girl a sympathetic smile but she doesn’t even look up at him she stares at the ground trying to cover her embarrassed face. She doesn’t say anything she just moves to the side so he can get the door, the top lock always got stuck and took a bit of force to open, they always talked about getting it fixed or fixing it themselves but would forget after about five minutes. The click of the lock signaled he got it and step back to let the girl leave.

“Thanks,” she says before she scurries out, she was obviously a very quiet person and definitely a nice person, at least she didn’t walk around like she owned the place.

Johnny out of excitement dropped the bag of trash and ran up to the second-floor bargaining into Jaehyun’s room, he was still asleep or at least he was until Johnny burst through the door screaming disrupting the calmness that was lingering in the room.

“IS JUNG JAEHYUN MOVING ON?” It was way too early for this as Jaehyun opens his eyes to look around the room, he could barely form a coherent thought. Johnny with the biggest grin plastered on his face stands in the room.

“Shhhh,” Jaehyun sits up rubbing his eyes, the girl he was with last night was gone from his side and he just shrugged it off.

“Why are you yelling?” Another one of the frat boys, the youngest one, Haechan, asks after hearing the commotion because when Johnny yelled he’s not quiet, he’s dramatic.

“Jaehyun got some,” Johnny smirks wiggling his eyebrows slightly as Jaehyun is still in a small daze but he rolls his eyes at the remark.

“How would you know? Jaehyun raises an eyebrow causing Haechan to smile devilishly before clearing his voice.

“I don’t know Jaehyun, maybe it was the noises coming from your room last night, I couldn’t sleep with all the moaning,” Haechan laughs causing Jaehyun’s face to flush a bright red color as he grabs one of his pillows throwing it directly at the youngest’s face.

“It was a one night stand, leave me alone,” Jaehyun stretches but Johnny couldn’t get the image of the two of them smiling out of his head, he looked happy, the way his eyes focused on yours and the way he so gently touched you there was a connection he didn’t act that way with just anyone not even with Heejin recently.

“Did you at least get her number?” Jaehyun launches another pillow at the crowd that’s gathered at his doorway this time it hits Johnny clearly done with being interrogated first thing in the morning.

“Get out,” and with that, the crowd goes in their own directions, but Johnny’s thoughts still lingers on your face. He had to do something but he didn’t exactly know what.

You brace yourself for the bombardment of comments that you would be met with, you stand outside the room facing the door your face already heating up as you reach out to turn the doorknob and enter. And sure enough, she launches herself off her bed and over to where you entered.

“Oh my god,” she looks at you up and down her eyes pausing on your neck and just looking at your body language.

“Shut up Miyoung,” You cover your face with your hands, you were definitely blushing even if you couldn’t see it you could feel it.

“You seem like you had fun, but coving those hickeys are gonna be a pain,” she starts to giggle and you move your hand before your eyes go wide and you walk to the wall slowly you’re still sore as you finally reach where Miyoung had decided to hang up a mirror, you have to stand on your tippy-toes to see them because it was adjusted for Miyoung’s height but as soon as you got a good look you could see the bruise-like marks that cover your neck. You run a hand up your neck lightly and let out an annoyed groan.

“Oh ____, you can barely walk,” She starts laughing as you continue to look at your neck. You roll your eyes and waddle to your bed letting out a sigh.

“Of course I can’t walk properly, it’s been MONTHS and he wrecked me,” you emphasize as you throw the covers over your head, it was odd how cold your blankets felt and the texture wasn’t as nice.

“You’re too cute, are you gonna go to work?” You feel your bed sink under her weight slightly as she takes a seat at the edge of your bed.

“Shit, I forgot I was scheduled.” You let out a frustrated sigh as you had planned to just stay in bed and finish your assignment.

“You literally have a board on the wall that has your whole schedule, how did you forget? He really must have fucked your brains out.” She giggles and you shoot her a glare before grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it, she lets out a fake gasp as if she’s hurt before grabbing a pillow and retaliating.

“I don’t really have a choice,” You pout knowing if you called in people would be mad at you and it was pretty late to ask someone to cover your shift that starts in a few hours.

“You always have a choice, but have fun at work,” She comments as she leans back relaxing at the foot of your bed.

“What happened with you last night though?” You suddenly remember how abruptly you left her and were left curious about what ended up happening with Miyoung.

“I wasn’t there too long sadly, but I ran into Yangyang and he gave me a ride home,” Your ears perk up as soon as you hear Yangyang’s name as you lean forward out of interest.

“Yangyang?” You smile raising your voice ever so slightly in a teasing way and her smile falters leaving her frowning which was unusual for your cheerful friend.

“Yeah… and his girlfriend…” She mumbles playing with the pillow in her lap, it’s grey and fluffy but more than anything comforting, unlike the topic.

“Damn… I’m sorry, I know how much you liked him,” You reach out and grab her hand squeezing it lightly to reassure her it’ll be okay.

“Everything happens for a reason, but do you think you’ll talk with what’s his face from last night?” Miyoung ponders out loud as you lean back against the headboard of your bed and look upwards at the popcorn ceiling in contemplation.

“Jaehyun… I don’t know it was reallyyyyyyyyyyyy nice but,” Miyoung already knows what you’re about to say so you don’t even have to finish your sentence as she lets out a groan of annoyance.

“____, You’ve barely even talked to Jaemin, why are you so set on him? Why are you letting him get in the way of a possible relationship?” She questions without thinking of a better way to say it or at least a less hurtful way.

“Possible relationship? Miyoung it was a one night stand, I barely know him.” You get defensive not even looking at her out of frustration but the tone of your voice makes it clear she’s pushing your buttons as you enunciate every word to make sure she understands she’s crossing a line.

“You might not have seen it but there’s something there, no one connects that easily, you two weren’t just a one night stand,” She tries to reason her eyebrows furrow, the genuine and pure happiness that was evident on your face last night was proof enough for her to continue to push forward when she’d usually back down.

“You’re wrong, it was the alcohol more than anything. I also didn’t even get his number so even if that’s the case I wouldn’t be able to talk to him,” You huff out, crossing your arms across your body a ticking time bomb.

“You just don’t want to think that there’s a possibility that Na Jaemin might not be the one,” Miyoung hits a nerve with you as you fling the blanket off and get out of the bed ignoring the pain and going to the bathroom to shower, your abruptness leaves Miyoung on your bed letting out a sigh, your denial was frustrating but you’d have to figure it out for your own obviously.

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A/n sorry that I’m posting a day late I’m trying to stay on schedule which for me is posting every one and a half weeks.

if you would like me to start a tag list just leave a note saying you’d like to be added so you’ll be easilt alerted whenever I post the next chapter, as always I hope you enjoy and if you like you can follow my blog where I might post previews for future chapters. Also you can turn on post notifications to get alerts :3 ofc all of this is optional lol.

Next chapter will be posted on 6/24 @ 6:00 MST

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serensama · 4 years

Text

To Release #2

Zen needs to let MC go.

Years ago, I had asked the amazing @promiscuous-jalapeno to write a HC for me when I was too scared to write my own and she did an amazing job- tore me right up it did. I asked her shortly thereafter if she minded if I tried to do it and she was kind enough to encourage me. Nearly 4 years and I’ve finally done it.

Trigger warnings: Character death, mentions of blood and aneurysm.

This is for my friend, my sister- Susana. I don’t know how to let you go. But one day I will. And one day I will see you again. Rest well until then dear one.

This is for my baby, my puppy Meiko- run free my little one. I know you’ll be waiting for me too. Keep Susana company and keep her safe until we catch up, okay? Good Boy.

- It wasn’t a particularly long or difficult day when it happened.

- They were wrapping up the film and just going over the last few scenes that Zen wasn’t thrilled with; ever the perfectionist he didn’t want sub-par acting from him or his co-stars, he loved his fans too much to offer them nothing but the best.

- The director hadn’t called cut but everyone had started to make a commotion on the set and forced the actor to stop and look around. A crowd had congregated near the catering table, someone calling for the onsite doctor for one of the crew who had seemingly fainted.

- The director walked towards the people and when she got close enough to see what or who the cause of the ruckus was, she spun on her heel and screamed out to him.

- Zen turned towards the sound of his name and saw his director calling him over with frenzied hands, urging him to quicken his pace and pointing towards the throng of people- “… It’s MC.”

- The actor had pushed one of his colleagues out of his way, apologising to them in his head as he bounded over to where the director had motioned to. He easily pulled people away to let him through when he finally got to eye of the masses, his MC laying on the floor in a heap. Her arms were thrown askew and her legs in an odd angle, a trickle of blood from where she caught her head against the edge of the table forming a pool of the rich, dark liquid beneath her.

- Zen hissed curses at the idle idiots around him, just standing there slack jawed staring at his girlfriend instead of doing anything else.

- With a gentleness he only ever showed to her, he caressed the inside of her wrist softly careful to not jostle her in case she hurt her neck or back with her fall. “MC, baby, please wake up, let me see those beautiful eyes again,” he cooed, praying his voice was enough to coax her from her unconsciousness. When she furrowed her brow but remained wholly unresponsive, he tried once again, convinced he could reach her. “Come on baby, I know you. You’re probably screaming at yourself for falling and being careless- especially with so much to do. So do it, kick your own ass and wake up. You can do this. Show me how strong you are MC.”

- Her eyelashes began to flutter as she sluggishly began to move.

- Zen exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding and a collective sigh of relief was released on set. Everyone knew and loved the ivory haired star but the only thing he was ever pedantic about to a fault was the health and safety of his manager, his girlfriend- his ‘whole world’. He couldn’t care less if all they gave him was warm water for lunch so long as she was well taken care of and comfortable.

- The doctor finally reached them and quickly rushed the remaining stragglers away from the couple, even managing to push Zen back when he said he needed more room to make sure MC was okay, the young man hovering around them, pacing worriedly about the sidelines like a mother hen.

- He watched on as the doctor patched her up, wincing as the thread and needle cinched up the gash- silently threatening the doctor to do a good job and not leave MC with a scar. However the more he thought of a scar on his girl got him a little excited, it would make her look mysterious, dangerous, his every own femme fatale- a physical representation of her inherent bad-assery for all the world to see.

- Zen could feel the tension in his shoulders relax as she slowly stood up and accepted whatever direction the doctor was giving her. He practically sprinted to her side when the older man gestured for him to come over, his long, toned arms carefully gathering her to him and pressing soft kisses to her skin, ignoring the scent of dried blood mingling with her sweet perfume. “… and make sure she doesn’t fall asleep again until you’re at the hospital and she’s in their care. Your blood pressure is pretty low and you’ve looked paler as of late, have you been getting enough iron lately MC?”

“Mhmm.” “Mm. Okay. Well go get those tests and make sure nothing too serious happened with that hit on your head. Make sure you watch out of her Zen,” the doctor instructed with a terse nod before taking his leave.

- A few moments passed with Zen still holding onto MC, lips still against her brow. He wanted to remember what it felt like to hold her and feel her breath against his skin, the warmth of her body, the sting of the pinch at his… the hell?

- Crimson eyes looked down to see MC pinching at his arm.

- “AIR!” she finally managed as she pried herself away from him, her mouth open and gaping for the precious gas to enter her lungs once more. He chuckled as he allowed himself one final self-indulgent kiss on top the crown of her head and stepped back, letting her find her own footing and collect herself.

- “What happened Jagi?” he asked, tucking an errant strand of hair back up into her messier messy bun. “Do you remember anything?”

- MC grimaced as she thought back, trying to remember anything before waking up to a blistering pain in her head and the sounds of hushed whispers all around her, and the large worried eyes of her lover peering down at her. Ignoring the pounding at the base of her skull and the way her world was just slightly off kilter, she focused on the chain of events that led her there.

- She had been looking over his schedule and worrying herself over how to get to one interview to another with only twenty minutes to spare across the city during peak hour traffic when she felt a sharp pain at the back of her eyes, acute and with such intensity she had to put her planner on the table and steady herself and then… nothing.

- Zen frowned not liking what he was hearing. At first he thought that she had neglected herself again, probably forgetting to eat something during the day because she was so fixated on him and his commitments she disregarded her responsibility to herself- it wouldn’t be the first time. Although this time, it felt different. Apart from the fact that he had practically force fed MC lunch with him not two hours earlier, he didn’t like the way she had been acting in the days leading up to this episode. She had been more exhausted than normal, crashing into bed often without having a shower which was something she was loathe to do, always yelling at him for doing it if he stumbled home from the set late at night. She was irritable and short tempered, yes she was a fire cracker and he loved her for it, but he could see she was being snappish for no good reason and that just wasn’t his MC.

- That and his dreams. Dreams he suppressed because they didn’t sit right with him, didn’t make sense, didn’t want to make sense of it. So he didn’t. It didn’t make sense that he would be in the middle of a choreographed number, with MC front row and centre watching him and he would do a turn and then she was gone. Just him alone on the stage, with people waiting for him to continue. It just didn’t make any sense.

- He would focus on what was real and happening in front of him and he would take things one step at a time instead of jumping to conclusions from stress addled dreams. Yes, that was it. It was the stress of this new movie. It was going to be the biggest one to date and with so much riding on his performance, there was no doubt that was what was causing such terrible images to play out before him the minute he closed his eyes.

- “Let’s get you to the hospital okay Jagi?”

- He almost throttled the doctor in the ER. How the hell did he dare say such things. He was going to ask for a second opinion and then a third. He wasn’t going to stop until he heard the right opinion, the only one that mattered. That MC was just fine. MC was going to live- anyone who said otherwise was going to taste the heel of his boot.

- “I know it’s difficult to hear but as it stands it might be best to start making some arrangements just in case-”

“You need to stop talking Doc,” he ground out behind his teeth, both hands squeezing against the metal of MC’s hospital bed. “Zen,” she chided with a disapproving look but with a gentle hand on his arm. “Let him speak.”

He shook his head and crossed his arms in front of him like he was trying to intimidate a better diagnosis out of him instead of the bullshit he was already sprouting.

“Not unless he goes back and does those tests again and comes back with some different results, because those are wrong,” he replied pointing at the chart the doctor held in his hands. To his credit the older man didn’t flinch too badly at Zen’s bullying, probably used to all kinds of bargaining from people in the ER. “As much as I wish they were wrong… they aren’t. I’m afraid there isn’t much else that can be done- what we’ve found is an intracranial aneurysm and at the size it’s managed to get we need to do emergency surgery or it’s at great risk of rupturing. All I’m saying is that the surgery comes with risks- as if it does rupture during the surgery she could have a stroke or receive permanent brain damage and, as such, she should get everything in order in case the worst were to happen-” “What we need you to say Doc is that the surgery is going to save her life and everything will be fine,” he snapped pointing at him menacingly. Zen tapped on the clipboard and then into the doctor’s chest to get his point across.

- The doctor sighed and gave MC a pointed look which she wordlessly responded with a nod, still disoriented from trying to catch up with what the man had just said. “Can you believe that guy? What kind of bed side manner was that? Jumin would be classified as downright cuddly compared to that guy,” Zen bristled, a shiver climbing up his spine as he thought about both men. MC sighed as she grabbed Zen’s hand, squeezing it to steel herself for what was to come. “The last thing you need to hear before impromptu surgery is hey- you’re probably gonna kick the bucket so make sure you know who is going to get your china.” “Jaehee is going to get the China. Saeyoung my shoes,” she grinned, stroking at the smooth skin on the back of his hand absentmindedly. “Yoosung said he wanted my gear from LOLOL, V will have my sketchbook and Jumin all my cat paraphernalia. You can keep my lingerie.”

- MC was giggling until she looked up at Zen’s face, his downturned mouth and sparkling eyes clearly showed a man who was not impressed with the jokes she was telling.

“Zen, Oppa, it’s going to be okay,” she soothed, bringing his forehead to touch hers, rubbing her nose to nuzzle him. “I need you to tell me it’s okay, that we’re going to be okay.”

“You only ever call me Oppa when you want something,” Zen pouted as he returned the action, he took a deep breath in and stilled himself. MC was in his arms and she always would be. “Hey, hey I promise Jagi you are going to be fine. You are going to go in there and that aneurysm thing won’t be able to win against you, nothing can whenever you make your mind up. You’re my girl. You’re wonderful, feisty. My take no prisoners warrior queen- you’re going get out of this completely unscathed.”

- MC sniffed and pulled back, clasping his larger hands with hers, her lips twitching at the sight of it.

“But…”

“No buts, that is until you are given the okay from the doctors that you’re all good after the surgery. Then this ass is mine,” he playfully growled, grabbing a handful of her rear to lighten the mood. MC laughed, an almost strangled noise through her tears and pecked him chastely on the lips.

“But-”

“MC I know in my gut that this isn’t the end of you okay, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, you know that right?” he said earnestly as he looked into her eyes.

- “I know but-”

“But what?”

- “My hair!” she wailed much to his surprise. “They’re going to shave a huge patch of my hair off and I’m going to look like an idiot!” she continued, fat tears rolling down her face.

- Zen stared at her nonplussed before throwing his head back in laughter. This woman was strong. She wasn’t afraid of death. She feared for her style. She was his match in every way.

- Before they took her in to prepare her, he asked a favour with the nurses at the station who wholeheartedly agreed to assist him in his quest.

- Without a second thought or the slightest hesitation he cut off his pony tail and the nurses shaved off his signature ivory locks. MC screamed in protest but he would have none of it.

“It’s you and me MC. Whatever you do, I do. Your hair will grow back with mine and we will do all of this together. So you make sure you get out of this surgery and we can get back to living our lives together,” he negotiated as they started to wheel her away. “Promise?”

“Promise!” she called out to him, holding up a pinkie finger as they rolled down the corridor.

- Everything was hazy and everything felt heavy when she prized her eyes open, but she saw her handsome Zen and knew he was saying something sweet to her and all was right in the world. She could hear him saying something, she couldn’t quite make out exactly what but she knew they were comforting and probably stupid. Ah Jagi, you look so ravishing in that hospital gown or I got you baby girl or MC! You should have heard how you raved about my skills in bed as you came down from the anaesthetic! They need to keep me in the hospital to do all sorts of tests on how it could be possible for a man to be so beautiful and so talented in the bedroom- they say it’s some sort of genetic wonderment, I say it’s all because of you.

- “Thank you for coming back to me.”

- They said they did the best they could with what they had, that she would need constant supervision for the time being and they needed to keep close observation on the aneurysm to see if their intervention measures worked. That meant for the first time in a long time Zen willingly cancelled his schedule, all of his schedule. He didn’t attend any interviews or photoshoots, no fan-meets or even any online streaming events- his only goal was to care for MC. Even when she realised it was the premiere of his biggest feature film to date, the project she had fought so hard for him to get and he worked so diligently for- nothing would sway him. His place was with her and she just needed to get over the fact that there was nothing more important to him than her.

- “Zen, don’t be a fool.”

“I’m not. That’s why I’m staying here.”

“Zen! After everything we’ve done to get to this point, you need to be there!”

“I don’t need to do anything but be here with you, you’re the only reason I’ve gotten anywhere these last 5 years!” he yelled back, clearly not budging from his stance. MC was about to retort with a snappy comeback but as she did she got a sharp pain in her head and got woozy, prompting Zen to rush over and pick her up like she were a doll and place her back on the bed all the while apologising for yelling at her and hurting her and if she really wanted him to go he would, whatever would make her feel better.

MC let out a small sniffle and outstretched her arms towards him prompting the man to lay beside her and hold her to him, his immense warm radiating into her, his body comfortable against her like a weighted blanket luring her into sleep.

“Don’t go. Stay with me.”

“Always.”

- For a time after that, everything went well.

- Her check-ups were positive and things seemed to be under control.

- Then the headaches started. Not just the kind that a few ibuprofen could handle but the kind that had her crying, pulling at her skin to stop the pain. Then she had difficulty focusing her eyes at times. It was when she was falling down and forgetting how she got on the floor that he –

“I’m here Jagi. I’m right here. Don’t be scared… oh please… please don’t cry.”

- Those dreams had come back again. And once again, he swept them away because he refused to accept them. He would change the outcome. He had already saved her once, he would do it again. He just needed time.

- The doctors were useless. Absolutely useless. He punched one right in the face, it was a miracle he didn’t sue him. Perhaps he had felt sorry for MC and paid heed to her pained pleas that he not press charges against her carer. Or in truth, perhaps he felt sorry for him, the mess of a man on his hands and knees on the floor begging him to take his life instead of hers. As if the doctor had that kind of power to grant his wish. He would never know.

- MC urged him, begged him to back to work. She would be fine. She could stay with her mother and he could pick her up and it would be fine-

“Whatever you do. I do, remember? If you’re staying here, then so am I- stop trying to get rid of me,” he scolded before attacking her with his wondrous fingers, finding every single ticklish spot on her to force her to forget such treacherous thoughts.

- He had taken a liking to making her breakfast every day and actually eating with her, a luxury that they couldn’t afford during his normal timetable; she usually grabbed a large coffee for both of them to tide them over until they got on set to snack whatever they could before sharing lunch together… when possible. How they didn’t sit down more often to eat together all those years beforehand was baffling to him, it wasn’t something he was going to take for granted again. Moments with her just truly enjoying each other’s company with some good food as they sat in their pyjamas- he wouldn’t take it for granted anymore.

- Some days he let her cook when her symptoms weren’t too severe and he wasn’t petrified she was going to chop her finger off accidentally trying to make a bowl of cereal. Zen had to duck from her attack of dry Cheerios when he had made the mistake of saying so out loud. Not that he minded, without his long hair it made cleaning himself up much easier.

- He took the opportunity of being mostly unrecognisable to the public to go out and enjoy what they could. Going to the movies like a normal couple and tenderly making out in the back row when she felt up to it like some loved up teenagers. Going window shopping and having her try on outfits she had planned to wear for his future premieres and seeing her being fawned over by shop assistants made him beam with pride. None of those dresses would ever out shine her beauty for him… but the smile she gave him as he told her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen when she donned a particularly dull dress, stole the air from his lungs.

- Zen liked to take her out for walks around the city or they’d drive out somewhere nice to take in the sights of whichever town or park they found themselves in- until she grew too tired and he would carry her on his back like she weighed nothing, never once complaining if he had to carry her for five minutes or fifty.

- Once the snow started he rented a cabin for the week and they lounged about naked as the day they were born; at times indulging in each other and others just lying in each other’s arms in silence. Words didn’t mean too much when Zen could understand everything her eyes silently confided in him. They said she loved him, that she was grateful to him and that with him, she was safe. That she was happy.

- It was on their way back to Seoul that she had her first seizure.

- She plummeted onto the ground, thankfully covered with fresh soft snow to cradle her fall. Zen tried to talk her through it, to keep her in a safe position until help arrived and the fit ceased. Seeing her so helpless, her body betraying her so completely and him utterly powerless to help her- he wanted to scream but this wasn’t about him, it was about her and he needed to focus on her. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes until she stopped shaking and her limbs started to relax under his hands and her breathing returned to normal.

“Z-Zen?”

“I’m here Jagiya.”

“I… I’m cold,” she said turning her face to look up at him. Zen looked into her eyes, he could see what she truly meant.

- Zen, I’m scared.

- Me too MC, me too.

- The doctors did their tests. She looked so small in her hospital gown. So small and tired.

- Their interventional measures… they were no longer working.

- “There’s nothing else we can do.”

- They walked together hand in hand down the stark white hallways of the hospital not saying a word, neither knowing how to proceed. He was feeling too many emotions to even begin picking out which one he was actively experiencing at any time, he could only imagine what MC was feeling. He felt a quick squeeze of his fingers and found MC gazing up at him, with clear eyes and a weak smile on her lips.

“Let’s go home Zen.”

- There’s nothing else we can do. Let’s enjoy the rest of whatever time I have.

- He waited until she was asleep and went into the kitchen and pulled out six pack and drank, one after another, nothing able to sate the growing chasm in the pit of his stomach. When he had finished that pack he quickly checked up on MC who was still resting soundly and decided to walk down the street to the nearest convenience store and pick himself up another pack or three of any available alcoholic beverage to drown some of his sorrows. He was entitled to it god damn it, he just needed to feel nothing at all, no confusion, no to too many things to process at once - just a drunken stupor he’d regret in the morning. That’s what he needed.

- He had gotten there and filled a little cart with so many beers they threatened to topple over, so he did the only reasonable thing and drank a few right there in the store. He could hear a few people whispering about the weird guy in the back chugging down drinks like the end of the world, joke’s on them, it was ending. A world without her in it was no world worth living in.

- “Yo. Slow it down man,” he heard a familiar drawl say. He did not want to see him. He didn’t want to see anyone. Zen drained the final drop out of the bottle and turned back to see white and pink and an inordinate amount of leather. Reaching down into his cart, he picked up another can and cracked open the tab, nodding half-heartedly towards the younger Choi brother before downing another- oh shit, there it was. Blissful ignorance rushing through his veins. “Seriously man what the fuck, get a hold of yourself.”

“You know what Saeran, just fuck off okay,” he said, or slurred, who the hell knew.

“No I don’t think so,” he said waving off his friends that he had originally entered with. “What’s going on with you? Why are you doing this?” he asked, managing to pull the cart of drinks away from Zen’s hand.

“Fuck. Off. Choi,” he spat out before polishing off his drink. Saeran clucked his tongue and shook his head in pity, he didn’t need to be a genius to know that the man before him was hurting. He knew because he had felt a very similar pain before. He had tried to drown that pain and could easily recognise it in the man before him.

“Yeah yeah I heard you. I will. After I get you back home,” he said pulling at Zen’s arm and shoving some money on the counter to pay for the consumed beverages. Zen yanked his arm away from Saeran and almost lost his footing, his natural grace the only thing saving him from falling head first into the rack of glass bottled condiments.

“I’m not ready to go back yet, don’t touch me, I’m fine-”

“Sure drinking at a convenience store at 3am in the morning on a Tuesday dressed in your pyjama pants and a shirt and slippers is really the epitome of fine-”

“I don’t need this right now-”

“And that’s why I’m helping you-”

“I don’t want your god damned help-”

“And that’s why you’re getting it. Come on, don’t make this harder than-” Zen had pushed him back and sent him flying into the front desk, startling the attendant. Saeran muttered an apology and stood in front of him, feet grounded once more in case he decided to attack him once more.

“Just leave me alone, okay.”

“I can’t. MC would kill both of us if I did,” Saeran explained with his palms raised to the ceiling as if he were trying to reason with Zen that he truly had no other choice but to stick around until he finally submitted.

“MC won’t be around long enough to do anything to either of us,” Zen whispered, tear-laced lashes fanning across his cheeks as he closed his eyes, the alcohol loosening his tongue and heightening his emotional outburst. Saeran swallowed his shock for the moment, his mind quickly digesting the new information Zen had just given him. He didn’t think she was that bad but by seeing the normally suave and cocky actor looking like a homeless man trying to kill himself with alcohol was enough to know that he wasn’t being melodramatic about it. MC was going to die and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Saeran clamped his lips together to seal any shuddering breaths he had wanted to take, or any pathetic noise he was bound to make after hearing one of his closest friends was not long for this world. Breathing deeply from his nose and exhaling strongly through his mouth, Saeran nodded to himself as he made up his mind.

“All the more reason for you to get home to her.”

- Zen had wanted to fight him, to pick up another drink and just sit in the corner of the store and pretend just for a little bit longer that this wasn’t happening. But it wasn’t the truth. It was happening. And every second away from MC felt like another needle to his heart. If he didn’t have long left with her, no matter how long it was, shouldn’t he be with her as much as humanly possible?

- “Saeran… can I still get that ride?”

Saeran smiled and dangled the car keys from his right index finger.

“Sure. But if you puke in car I’m telling ‘Young you did it and you can be at his mercy for stinking up his baby.”

- He stumbled into their apartment and wandered back into the bedroom. MC still asleep.

- Zen tiptoed into the room and watched over her prone form, the rise and fall of her chest enough to ease the dread in his heart that she had left him while he was away drinking himself into oblivion. Slipping under the covers carefully, he cautiously took her into his embrace and allowed the tip of his nose to trace at her warm, soft skin, still clinging to the scent of their soap from their bath together earlier in the day.

- Everyday. Every minute. Every second. Always. He would never leave her side.

- MC was getting worse, even though neither of them was saying it, it was obvious her health was in decline. The pain in her head so strong that she couldn’t make a sound as she buried her head in her arms and shook on the bed, her mouth open to scream with no sound but stifled noises from the top of her throat able to come out. Sometimes even the softest ambient light hurt her and she would encase herself in total darkness, letting herself succumb to self-pity and allowed herself mourn the loss of what could have been.

- Still Zen tried his best to maintain the most normal of lives for her. They would eat in bed by candlelight. He would push her in a wheelchair around the city and he would put on fashion shows for her as she was too tired or weak to do it herself. They would watch black and white movies because they hurt her eyes less and they would drive- drive for hours sometimes just to see the world pass by and pretend that nothing else mattered but the two of them.

- “Hey Jagi?” he called out to her as he washed the dishes from lunch.

“Mmm?” she hummed back, sitting up in bed as she tried to read a book. It was a good day. Her vision wasn’t swimming and she could focus. It was so nice to be able to see Zen again.

“It’s a really nice day outside, you feeling up for a quick walk?” he chimed, turning off the water and made his way back to their bedroom to lean against the door frame. His hair had grown back much faster than hers she noted, the longest strands able to reach the end of his ears whereas she only managed to have the shortest of pixie cuts come through upon her head. She half joked she looked like an egg and Zen answered that it was no wonder he enjoyed heating her up and eating her. She scoffed at him and slapped him the next morning when he boiled up some eggs and drew their likenesses on the shells.

MC tested her limbs, first her arms and then her legs, everything seemed fine and she thought she could even walk a little on her own today- she was so sick of being stuck at home and being coddled between the couch and the bed, the bed and the dining table, the dining table to the bathroom. She wanted to feel the grass beneath her feet, if only for a moment. Feel the sun on her face without having a window between her and the rays. Hear children playing instead of trucks go past their house. Yes. Yes she wanted to go for a walk.

- Zen had helped her into the bath with him; he carefully washed her hair and scrubbed her back, pressing kisses on every new spot his hands had just cleaned. She was so relaxed she almost fell asleep until he asked if she had changed her mind about their outing and she sprang back up like a puppy being asked if they wanted to go out. Perhaps she was just like that. Not the way she’d imagined wearing a collar and lead with Zen but at this point she’d take whatever adventure she could get. Zen questioned the amused expression on her face but she refused to let him know the reasoning behind her secret merriment. She didn’t want to give him any ideas.

- She asked which park they were going to and he answered the one that was closest to them. MC pouted as he helped her get dressed in a pretty sundress she hadn’t worn for almost a year and a light cardigan to keep any chill away from her. She decided not to sulk too much, he probably chose the location because it was close to home and if she needed to go back if she had any symptom flare ups, she would be grateful to be back home as quickly as possible.

- The drive there took no longer than a couple of minutes and after finding a carpark quickly Zen had prepared to get her wheelchair out only for her to stop him, telling him that she wanted to try to stretch the cobwebs out of her legs to which he only smiled back and nodded. MC looked out of windscreen, there was some sort of party being held not too far from them. She could see some kids running and some people all gathered around and enjoying themselves and she felt an envious smile slip across her face. When was the last time she’d been well enough to attend a party? Goodness, nearly four months at least. Yoosung had practically cried when she and Zen had entered through the door, the blonde man clearly very drunk, enhancing his already tearful welcome.

- “Do you think we could steal some cake from that party over there?” she cheekily asked Zen as he opened her door and helped her stand up, her legs giving a tentative wobble as she acclimated herself. Her boyfriend smirked and had that devious glint in his eye that she only knew too well.

“Why don’t we go over and ask?”

- MC’s eyes widened as she realised that he absolutely meant to do as she asked. She swatted at him impatiently, telling him he was an idiot and that she didn’t mean it, she was just joking and…

- Those kids were her niece and nephews running around.

- The people congregated around were her mother and father, her sister, the RFA and some of Zen’s co-stars from their last project- this was for her?

- Jaehee came over with the biggest smile she had ever seen and placed a crown of flowers on her head and supplied her with a modest bouquet of wildflowers made up of her favourite blooms from their numerous nature walks, before kissing her on the cheek and walking away.

“What… what is… what is all this?” she asked, her heart constricting at the sight of all her favourite people around them, all smiling and some even crying. She turned to where Zen had been only to find her father come up behind her, his face ruddy with emotion as he offered his arm out to her. The other hand motioning for her to look ahead as she Zen positioning himself at what looked like an altar covered in the same wildflowers, Saeran behind him and Jaehee on the other side.

- MC could barely breathe, her heart soaring at the sight of the man she loved more than anything, waiting for her at the end of the aisle. His beaming face lighting up the area better than the sun ever could, his eyes fixed only on her and nothing else. He simply mouthed the words will you marry me and she nodded, so hard she thought she would her head would fall off, causing his smile to grow even more as he held out his open hand to her- just waiting for her to come to him.

- MC released a choked laugh as she clung onto her father’s arm, her other hand wrapped around the bouquet tightly to confirm this wasn’t just another dream, this was happening and it was real.

- When they finally reached Zen, her father placed a kiss on her temple and whispered words of love in her ear before taking a seat next to her sobbing mother. She took his hand and yes, thank god yes, it was all real.

- The ceremony was short, it had to be to ensure she would be able to endure it but she didn’t care. She would have stood there for days on end if it meant being able to marry the man beside her. Neither of them could take their eyes off each other, both having to be prompted by the wedding minister to answer “I do”.

- Their first kiss as man and wife was tinged with the salt of both their tears but nothing tasted sweeter to them. Not even the cake that MC had ‘stolen’ a slice of.

- The drive home, MC couldn’t stop smiling at the light glinting off their matching plain white gold bands, simple and elegant just like Zen was, the meaning behind the ring far more important than the kind of ring it was.

- He had promised a whole week of it just being them, no doctors, no visitors, nothing she didn’t want to do. It was just going to be her and him, the occasional bowl of cereal and their bed.

- Married life was much as the same as life before, nothing apart the signing of paper and rings to prove anything was different between them. However the knowledge that he was officially her husband and she his wife, it added a pep to his step, a deeper renewed vigour to continue to care for her no matter the outcome.

- She slept longer than normal, but after the excitement of the last couple of days he couldn’t blame her for being tired. She at least wasn’t complaining of pain anymore and her eyes weren’t too bad for the most part.

- It was into the second week of their elongated honeymoon after he had done his best to alleviate her sore neck as they sat on the couch that MC turned to him, her eyes wide with revelation.

“What is it Jagi?” he asked, massaging her head and relishing the feel of her soft hair on his palm. She hummed appreciatively and leaned into his touch, earning her a smile from her husband.

“We never had a first dance, at our wedding- we didn’t get to dance!” she said dreamily, still mesmerized by feel of his hands on her. Zen hadn’t wanted to push his luck during the wedding, he didn’t want to exert her too much and cause a random headache to appear or cause her any embarrassment if her legs tired in front of their guests, he knew how much she hated showing anyone her weakness- even him. Maybe him most of all. Though here, in the confines of their home, with only him and her, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge in their first dance.

- Zen put on their favourite song on his phone and stood up with a flourish, executing his most perfect bow to his wife, his hand outstretched to her once again as she sat before him on the couch. MC laughed as she demurely bowed her head and slid her hand into his. He carefully helped her off the seat and locked his free arm around her middle, the curve of her waist fitting perfectly into the crook on his elbow. He had started to sing along to the music knowing how much MC enjoyed hearing him sing to her, MC joining in as much as she could in the parts she was sure her voice wouldn’t crack in. Zen didn’t care even if it did, he loved singing with her, off key and off pitch- it never mattered. The woman he loved was singing with him, nothing would ever sound as good as their voices together.

- Zen skilfully lifted her as he spun around, putting her feet on top of his as he could feel her start to waver in her steps, her hands griping his own so tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re my husband,” she said as she lay her head against his chest, suddenly too heavy to keep up on her own. Zen chuckled and pressed a kiss against her forehead as he continued to dance for them both.

“I told you Jagi, it’s going to be me and you forever.”

“Always, right?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes to listen to the sound of his heartbeat, so strong in her ear.

“Always,” he affirmed, bringing up her hand to kiss the back of it before placing it against chest beside her face. Only for it to fall down loose beside her.

- Zen stopped for a moment, it wasn’t the first time her limbs had failed her but never so suddenly.

“Jagi, you getting tired on me?”

- …

- “… Jagi.”

- …

- “… Jagiya.”

- …

- He couldn’t loosen his grip on her. He knew if he did her whole body would fall within his embrace and… to see her listless… lifeless… that wasn’t his MC. That wasn’t his wife.

- So Zen cupped the back of her head with his other arm lifting her up against him, her feet dangling above his as he continued to sway them back and forth to the music. And long after it finished.

- “I’m… I’m so glad to be your husband MC.”

- When his feet ached so much he could no longer stand and his arms burned to the point of numbness, both of them fell to the ground, his face buried in her chest as he cried the tears of man who would never learn to dance with another again. His feet only knew the beat she set for them. Zen would dance with her again one day but until then, they would remain still. Until he found her again.

- Always.

#mystic messenger #mysme fanfic #zen #zen x mc #hyun ryu #mysme headcanon #angst

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