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jubilantwriter · 3 years

Text

It All Began with a Big Crash

(AO3)

Summary: It's the one year anniversary of Boyfriend and Girlfriend's growing relationship, and Boyfriend absolutely, totally, DID NOT forget that today is that special day. And yet, that one single DID NOT FORGETTing leads to a domino effect, resulting in quite possibly one of the best nights of their lives.

After all, what's the point of a performance if no one's having fun during it?

Word Count: 7154

(A/N: Happy 1st Anniversary of Friday Night Funkin’! I literally wrote and edited this all in one day. Got home at midnight, started writing, and then I posted it at 10 am, took a nap, went to work, AND NOW I’M HERE ON TUMBLR :D Anyway, FNF has been a big comfort for me these past months, so it’s only fitting that I put myself through hell to get this little bit out. I hope you all enjoy!)

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Now, Boyfriend isn't a forgetful man. This thought crosses his mind as he stands up abruptly after paying for his lunch and racing for the door.

"Be-!"

"Eep!"

CRASH .

But sometimes things... slip from his mind, and while he's not one prone to panic, THIS is something worth panicking over.

"-EP. SHIT. SORRY!"

"My dishes!" A blonde server kneels on the ground, surrounded by the clumsy carnage created by Boyfriend inadvertently crashing into her on his rush out. She glares accusingly at him as the boy jogs in place. "Again, really?!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He waves his hands in front of him before looking over his shoulder. "I'll pay for the dishes and shit uh, later!" He dashes out the door as she calls out behind him.

"That's what you said LAST time!"

Well, last time he was dirt poor, but now that he's pretty famous around town, he's actually got the moolah to pay for damages! So yeah, next time!

...Is what he meant to tell her, but he's already busting into the conveniently placed flower shop, panting as he looks around wildly for help. The florist in question glances at him completely unbothered by his entrance.

"Forgot an important date again?" she quips, staring back down at her phone as she drapes herself over the counter.

"BAP!" he says defensively, because he DIDN'T forget! It just... slipped his mind a little. In his defense, he'd gotten so used to being with Girlfriend that it felt ... normal! Like they've been together for YEARS and being with her just felt so right, and every day was the greatest day of his life because he had her by his side. So yeah, maybe the days slipped past him in a blissful sort of way, like when he gets super focused on his music or some arbitrary task, and the hours slip by and suddenly it's the next morning! It's kind of like that, but with a girl who makes him smile and laugh and forget that life is supposed to be difficult and hard, and not fun and invigorating. And to think they've only been together for a year...

...A year.

...Wait.

Shit.

SHIT.

He's doing it again!

He bustles over and slaps a fifty on the counter. "Bop!" he announces in a rush, tapping his fingers impatiently as the florist holds it up to the light.

With a low whistle, she puts it back on the table. "Wow, you're really going all out this time, huh?" Before Boyfriend can respond to her sarcasm, the florist calls out to her partner in the back. "Flower! Miku's lil bro is back at it again, dropping a fifty and hoping for the best."

"Again?" A husky voice makes its way over as a familiar bush of thick hair pops out from beyond the doorway. "Boyfriend, you should know by now that apology bouquets are at least a hundred."

"Ba- skida- AUGH! It's not an apology bouquet!" He stomps his foot, irritated to break out the English but knowing full well it’s a matter that needs clear communication. So not really a waste of words, just a waste of energy on two ladies who will give him shit regardless of the noise he makes.

"Oh yeah? What's the occasion?" The taller florist - Lily, hilariously enough - leans forward with a smirk as Flower keeps her deadpan stare.

"It's for my anniversary!" He crosses his arms and harrumphs as Lily whistles again.

"Damn, and you didn't invite us to the wedding? Harsh."

"No, not that-! Ugh, you know what I mean."

"Do we?" Lily and Flower exchange a look before Lily's smirk widens. "I dunno, you don't give us the dirt anymore. Remember when you'd come in here all the time, red in the face trying to get apology bouquets for that one boy? What's his name-"

"Pico," he answers, a bit flustered as the memories rush through his mind before shaking his head, "and he liked them all, by the way! But this isn't about him-"

"No, it's about your new girl, right?" Flower cuts in, leaning against the doorway with a bored expression. "What's her favorite color? It's not green, is it?"

"It's red, and please can you make it quick? I dunno when she wants us to meet up, so...!" He flashes them two thumbs up and is about to bounce, but Lily grabs the collar of his shirt with a chuckle.

"Not so fast, dumbass." She pulls him back to the counter as he whines pathetically. "You really think a fifty is enough for an anniversary bouquet?"

Oh no. He starts to sweat, feeling his wallet tremble in fear. They're doing it again. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean, Flower?" Lily turns back to the shorter florist as the other makes a thoughtful hum.

"One hundred, at least."

"Yeah, at least one hundo." Lily holds her hand out. "C'mon, cough it up, shorty."

This is beyond unreal, but at the same time, it is completely expected from people who teased him relentlessly since he was a kid. "If it wasn't for Miku, you guys wouldn't even be here!"

"We're only here because of convenience, please." Lily snorts as the boy continues to struggle. "So you aiming for an apology bouquet or an anniversary bouquet?"

"Just cut me a deal, please? For old time's sake?" He clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes. "I'm still that cute little kid who used to pretend to be like Miku! Who could forget good ol' Mikuo?"

"One hundred." Flower cuts off the potential reminiscing and steps up to the counter. "Or it's an apology bouquet."

Grumbling miserably, Boyfriend digs around in his pocket and manages to snag something. He pulls out his hand and counts out four quarters. Quietly, he puts it on top of the fifty.

Flower and Lily both look at it silently.

"...Well," Flower begins, slowly taking the money, "I did say one hundred."

Roll with it roll with it roll with it-

"Yeah, and uh, four twenty-fives makes one hundred, right?"

"What, are we speaking French now?" Lily asks with a sneer.

"No," Boyfriend begins, blinking slowly, "pretty sure we're speaking English."

"Oh my god." She slaps her hand over Flower's. "We are not doing this."

"I gave you one hundred," he argues, sweating miserably as he turns up the confidence.

"He did give us one hundred," Flower agrees.

"You are not giving this to him. You know he didn't even plan this! He's too stupid to pull a slick move like that!"

Boyfriend just smiles and gives them a double thumbs up.

"It's not like anyone else is gonna be coming in to give us another job." Flower hums and stows the money in the register, much to Lily's chagrin. "And besides, if I get bored making it, I'll just take a nap."

"Flower-!" Before Lily can protest even more, Flower disappears into the backroom, no doubt to either work on the bouquet or take that nap. Lily turns back to Boyfriend and glares, jabbing a finger against his chest. "Be back here in a few hours. You're taking whatever the hell she makes for you, stingy little bitch."

"That's all I have on my person!"

"We accept credit and debit."

"I have bills to pay."

"You're such a little-!" Lily makes a strangling gesture with her hands before grabbing and shaking him. "You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

"I'm trying!" He backs up and shoots the tall florist finger guns before vacating the premises. Okay, one thing down. Next: chocolates. Easy-peasy. What place sells heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and other cutesy, anniversary items?

Boyfriend makes a beeline for the local grocery store and spends only a total of thirty minutes there, making the proud purchase of a box of chocolates, a little teddy bear holding a heart, and even a balloon that says, "I Love You". Score! Damn, he's doing great so far. And it was such a quick purchase! Maybe Miku's friends could learn a thing or two about making quick sales instead of harassing him over every little thing.

What's next, what's next...

A place for dinner, right! Girlfriend loves the local bar. Great food, a nice atmosphere, open mic nights, a server who's familiar with them...

A server that he crashed into and made her drop all those dishes to the floor... like that other time he did it to her and held up the service for a sizable amount of time...

He gulps. Hm. She's probably still mad at him too. But uh, huh. He's not sure what to do. Maybe, maybe...

He takes out his phone and dials a familiar number. It rings only twice before a gruff, annoyed voice answers on the other side.

"I'm busy, the fuck you want?"

Without missing a beat, he gets on his metaphorical hands and knees. "Pico, can I ask a favor, please please pretty please?"

"Wow, English. Must be desperate." There's a loud crash on his end before Pico's voice yells at a pair of playful, young laughter. "Hey- hey! Watch it!"

"Pico, so uh, could you-?"

"Hey- give me that!" More raucous laughter fills the line as Pico sighs. "Sorry, Bee, don't think I can help ya today. I was supposed to just watch these two kids 'til Lila came back, but then I got a call from a pal who needs help at her joint and- Skid, Jesus fucking Christ -" There's some shuffling and a grunt as a playful squeal rings a little too close to the phone. Pico continues as though nothing happened on his end. "-and so basically I'm double booked for the night."

"Oh, okay." He tries not to let the disappointment seep into his voice, but another sigh from Pico suggests that he heard it regardless.

"Look, I'm real sorry, wish I could help, but a line's formin' and I can only do so much." Pico grunts and a soft thump is heard. Two voices chatter away distantly in the background, but Boyfriend focuses solely on Pico. "Why? What happened?"

"Well, today's me and Girlfriend's anniversary, and I wanted to take her out but-"

"Can't figure out a place to take her? C'mon man, you- Jesus, you two, slow down, I'm comin'- you already know one."

"Yeah, the bar but-"

"What, ya worried about 'bout lines or somethin'? I know it's busy and shit, but I'm sure Serv will get ya guys' a table easy. It's just you two, you'll be fine."

"Okay, but-"

"Oh my GOD, what the HELL is THAT?!"

A faint, childish voice answers Pico's horrified question as Boyfriend listens in. "That's Moloch!"

"...MOLOCH?"

A roar sounds from Pico's side of the phone call. The voice - uh, Skid, was it? - laughs excitedly. "Yeah! He's our friend!"

"He lives in Skid's attic!"

A demonic voice nearly blows out Boyfriend's eardrums. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"...Does your MOM know about this?!"

"Sorta! She thinks he's a rat."

"Hey hey HEY, back OFF-! Sorry, Bee, I'll call ya later!"

The last thing he hears is another roar before the line hangs up. Pico will probably be fine - he's handled worse after all, and even Boyfriend's faced off a demon or two! Maybe three, if that Lemon Man those two kids were friends with counted as well. Man, demons are just everywhere, huh?

...Speaking of demons. There’s one demon he really should be focusing on. Like getting their dinner date set up at her favorite bar in town. Even though he’s probably on that bar’s shitlist for knocking over their number one employee again .

But Girlfriend really does love going to that bar, and if it's for her... Fuck it, he'll suck it up and take whatever Server-chan's got against him. He'll just challenge her to a quick rap battle, win, and THEN they can have a nice dinner! Yeah, that's what he'll do. Lily's words replay in his mind as he walks off to his apartment to change into something nicer.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

Fuck yeah he will.

"Damn, after all these years, you still can't tie a tie." Lily frets over his outfit as she helps him tidy up a bit. A colorful ribbon now decorates the box of chocolates, tying it together with the teddy bear with the balloon also tied around its wrist. He grabs the tied together present after she rolls his sleeves up to his elbow.

"Bouquet?" he asks hopefully as Lily dusts off his shoulders for the hundredth time.

She huffs and shakes her head, blowing a stray hair out of her face. "You're lucky Flower didn't take a nap halfway through. It's her best work so far! All for the low, low cost of $51, tax not included."

"There's tax?!" He almost falls over, but Lily grabs him by the collar of his dress shirt.

"Chill out, we'll charge it to Miku's account."

"Oh, thanks." He swats away her hands when she tries to tuck in the other half of his shirt. "Fuck off, it's part of my style!"

"What, being sloppy?"

"The ladies love it."

"Your lady deserves better."

"But I'm the best there is!"

"Oh, God," Lily groans as her expression falls into despair. "Egotism really does run in the family."

"Enough about the family ego," Flower pipes up, her hands full with a large, beautiful bouquet. "These flowers need to be appreciated."

"Holy shit." Boyfriend takes the entire bouquet, admiring the reds, pinks, and whites. There's a smattering of small, lavender flowers here and there, making the other colors pop. "Roses!" he points out, the only flower he recognizes.

"Yup, and there's also lilies, alstroemeria, and-"

"Don't waste your breath," Lily cuts in, covering Flower's mouth before she can list them all out. "He won't remember any of the names."

A disappointed sigh escapes Flower, so he gives her the biggest grin he can muster. "Yo, I still think it's hella bomb to look at. I really think she'll love it!"

Flower perks up a bit, a small smile forming on her usually stoic face. "...Cool."

"Alright, get outta here." Lily shoves him back to the door with a grin. "You got a hot date, yeah? Go give her the night of her life!"

"Yeah!" He waves to the pair before leaving. "Gonna have a great night at the bar!"

Lily's smile falters as Flower's smile immediately disappears. "...The what?"

"See ya!"

"Wait, Boyfriend! You're taking her out to the fucking BAR?!"

He doesn't have the time to turn back and answer Lily, so he goes along his merry way, bouquet clutched tightly against his chest with the bear. Hopefully the incident from earlier today has been swept away. He really doesn't want to have a rap battle with Server-chan, but if he has to...

"Boyfriend!" A sweet, melodic voice pulls him from his thoughts as he looks over to see his beautiful, wonderful Girlfriend. Her iconic look now sports a sleek, black jacket reminiscent of her mother's own jacket. It looks stunning on her, and a soft, longing "beep" escapes him as she giggles and kisses his cheek. "Hey, hun. Happy anniversary!"

"Happy anniversary!" He holds out his gifts for her to take, and he delights in her unabashed joy as she takes them.

"Oh! This teddy bear is so cute, and these flowers are lovely!" Another giggle escapes her as she points at the bouquet. "Roses!"

"That's what I said!" They both share a laugh before her smile settles into something soft and relaxed.

"Now I wish I got you something too..." Girlfriend pouts a bit, but he kisses it away with a grin.

"Hey, don't sweat it! Lemme spoil you for the night instead." He offers her his arm, and she happily loops hers with his. They walk into the bar together and are met with a familiar face standing behind a podium. Despite being the hostess, Cassette Girl keeps her iconic cap on as she notices them and greets them with a lazy smile.

"Wooow," she drawls out, giving Boyfriend a knowing grin. "Back again so soon? And after that huge fuss you made."

"Fuss?" Girlfriend gives Boyfriend a curious look.

"Uhh, beep bah."

"Didn't tell her about your mishap, huh?" Cassette Girl raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "Well, if you wanted to know, Serv got it figured out. Called in a favor last minute, and luckily he was nice enough to help out."

"Sorry about that," he says sheepishly, and Cassette Girl merely shrugs.

"It's whatever. Not the first time you messed her up real good. And besides, you're not even the first person to make her crash and burn for a hot minute."

"Is this still about the fuss you guys are talking about?" Girlfriend looks between the two as Cassette Girl chuckles.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Lemme take ya to your seats. Bar or nah?"

"Nah, it's our anniversary date today!"

"And you guys are spending it here?” She pauses for a second in thought before shaking her head. “Alright." Cassette Girl takes it in stride and seats them near the miniature stage.

"Oh, is it open mic night tonight?" Girlfriend sits down, already excited for the night as Cassette Girl chuckles and hands them the menus.

"Nah, originally we had a band booked tonight, but their back-up vocalist got injured, so they called it off last minute. It's gonna be a quiet night instead."

"Aww." The pout on Girlfriend's face lasts only a second before her smile returns. "Oh well! Sometimes quiet is nice too."

"Right you are. Anyway, your waiter will be with you guys in just a sec, so take your time. We're not too busy tonight, so feel free to cause more havoc." She flashes a grin before walking back to her station.

Girlfriend waves goodbye and turns back to Boyfriend with a smile. "Cassey is so nice! I wish we could talk to her more."

"Maybe we'll catch her on the street one of these days." He cracks open the menu, perusing the contents before deciding on getting his usual.

"Maybe! Should I try something new tonight?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

"But I don't know what to get..."

"Maybe we can ask the waiter?" He looks around for their supposed waiter, but all he sees is an unimpressed Pico standing at their table. "Oh! Pico! You're dressed like a waiter!"

True to his observations, Pico is dressed similarly to Server-chan; a black long sleeved shirt replaces his usual green sweater, and a pair of black slacks replaces his usual beige cargo pants. The only splash of color on his outfit is the bright orange apron that all servers seem to wear as per uniform, and it absolutely clashes with Pico's own bright, red hair.

"That's because I am the waiter, dumbass." The bite from his remark is lost from the tired slump of his shoulders, and the ginger begins to resemble Server-chan with each passing second. "At least for tonight. She called me in for a favor, and I agreed to help."

The conversation from earlier today pings in Boyfriend's memory. "Is this what you meant when you said you were double booked?"

"Yeah. Told me some blue-haired douchebag steamrolled her on his way out, and she ended up breaking a whole buncha dishes. She went out to go replace the whole set, so I'm coverin' for the rest of her shift while she takes care of it. Now that I think about it," Pico fixes him with a stern, knowing glare as Boyfriend shrinks under his sharp eyes, "I kinda already know about a certain blue-haired douchebag."

"I'll pay her back, I promise."

"You fuckin' better." Pico looks over to Girlfriend and offers her a tired grin when she waves cheerfully. "Hey, Red, he treatin' ya well tonight?"

"Yup! He got me chocolates, a bear, a balloon, AND a bouquet!"

"Really spoilin' ya there."

"Only the best for Gigi, right?" He nudges Pico playfully, the earlier irritation already melting away from his expression as he rolls his eyes and ruffles Boyfriend's hair.

"Yeah yeah. Ya guys ready to order?"

Pico takes their orders and departs quickly, the couple watching him disappear somewhere in the bar as their collective thoughts gather on one thing only.

"Mm, Pico should wear uniforms more often, huh?"

"It definitely looks flattering on him." They both hum before taking sips from the water Pico had set down earlier while taking their orders. With no ginger to distract them, Girlfriend's attention centers back on Boyfriend as she smiles. "Thanks for taking me out here for dinner! I know it's not easy for us to go out on dates since my parents still hover, so I'm really happy that we went out like you planned!"

"Oh yeah, totally." His easy grin hides the absolute panic he had for the entire half of his day when he realized he had nothing planned. "I wish I could treat you out for something better, but nothing else is really happening around this time of year-"

"Except for Spooky Month!" Two voices pipe up out of nowhere as the costumed duo surprise the couple.

"Oh, goodness, hello!" She laughs as Skid and, uh, Pump? Stand by their table looking curious. "How have you two been?"

"Okay! Mr. Pico has been babysitting us since Mom's been busy with her work stuff." Skid bounces on his heels as Pump looks up more calmly. "We wanted to introduce him to Moloch, but..."

"He didn't like him too much. He said Moloch is more scary than spooky." Pump sticks his tongue out and laughs. "Silly Mr. Pico! He does not understand that Moloch is our friend!"

"Moloch?" Girlfriend hums as bobs her head in thought. "That name sounds familiar. There was a demon that went missing months ago by that name..."

"Oh, weird!"

"Moloch came to us months ago too! But now he stays in Skid's attic."

"It's like a sleepover every day!"

"That sounds like fun!" She giggles as the kids bounce around her.

Boyfriend watches with a smile before remembering that “double booked” thing that Pico mentioned earlier. Were these the kids he was watching when Boyfriend called…? "So why are you guys here? If Pico is supposed to be babysitting you guys, but is working here instead..." Boyfriend wonders how Pico manages to balance so many jobs at once. He himself can barely handle the one!

"Mr. Pico said that he didn't trust Moloch and wanted us to stay somewhere safer."

"Which is weird, because Moloch is our friend! But it made him happier, so we came here with him."

"It's boring here, so Pump and I have been teaching lots of people how to spooky dance!"

"Oh?" Girlfriend indulges them and smiles as they crowd closer to her. "Can you show me too?"

"You don't know the spooky dance?"

"We should show her!"

"It goes like this!" The pair of children do a little dance for her, and a happy laugh escapes her as she watches. Boyfriend leans back and enjoys her happiness as the kids continue to chat with her.

"That looks like fun!"

"You can do it too!" Skid tugs on her hands, and it's enough to get her to stand up. "Just hold out your hands like this-"

"-and then you move like this!" The two of them demonstrate one more time before looking at Girlfriend expectantly. It takes her a few times, but the kids are surprisingly patient and more than happy to show her as many times as she requests until she gets it right. The sight of her having so much fun melts his heart, and he sighs as he watches her enjoy herself.

"Damn, look at you, meltin' into the table."

Boyfriend nearly slams his face against the table, making Pico guffaw as he puts their meals on the table. "Dude!"

"What? Just spittin' facts. Hey!" Pico's hands come to rest on his hips as he glares at the kids. Both Girlfriend and Boyfriend exchange a look, hiding their amused grins behind their hands as Pico takes on his caretaking role. "Skid, Pump, what did I say 'bout botherin' the customers?"

"Uhh..." The two kids freeze in place, looking at each other before looking at Pico. "Don't?"

"And what are you two doin'?"

"Bothering your friends!" Pump grins as Skid nods in agreement. "They are not customers, right?"

A puff of a laugh escapes Girlfriend as Boyfriend nudges Pico. "Yeah dude, we're your friends, not customers. We should get a de-"

A glare is enough to silence Boyfriend, but Girlfriend's composure quickly falls apart as a fit of giggles escapes her. Pico ignores her as he focuses his attention on his two charges. "They're still customers."

"But it's boring here!"

"Yeah, it's too quiet. You said there'd be music!"

"But there's no music, except for the soft elevator music."

"But that's boring too."

Both boys pout as Pico sighs and massages his temples. "Look, I didn't know the band would cancel today. After I'm done here, we can do something fun , okay?"

"Like getting candy?"

"Yeah, like gettin' candy." The two kids cheer and run off somewhere before Pico can stop them. "Hey-!"

"Damn, Pico, I didn't think you'd be good with kids." Boyfriend snickers as he eats a fry, watching as Pico sighs for the umpteenth time.

"You call that bein' good with kids?"

"It's better than I'd ever expect outta you."

"Rude little bitch." Pico snatches a few fries and chomps on them, ignoring Boyfriend's protests.

"When do you get off, Pico?" Girlfriend spins her fork around in her pasta before feeding the first bite to Boyfriend, keeping her eyes on Pico as the ginger hums thoughtfully.

"Technically nine, but I gotta watch the kids 'til ten. That's when Lila comes back from her shit."

"Do you wanna come over for movie night?" She looks over to Boyfriend who nods in agreement. Pico laughs and shakes his head.

"Ain't this supposed to be ya guys' anniversary date? Why the hell am I bein' invited?"

"'Cause it's more fun when you join us!" Boyfriend pipes up, making his eyes go wide with hope, knowing how much of a sucker Pico is for his puppy dog eyes. Like he predicts, Pico grumbles and looks away, a slight blush to his cheeks as he tries to regain his composure.

"Touchin', but nah. It's y'all's day. It's not my place to interrupt."

"You wouldn't be-!" A ringtone goes off in the middle of her sentence. Girlfriend pauses, taking her phone out as her smile vanishes. "Oh, just a minute." She leaves the table quickly as she answers her phone with a faint, "Hi, Daddy..."

"Hm." They watch her go outside before Pico turns back to Boyfriend. "I hope you have somethin' really good planned for tonight."

"Well, I don't have anything planned, per se-"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"But! Movie night is gonna be a thing! Or, was." Boyfriend frowns, not liking how it was her dad who called her. Knowing him, he could be asking her to come home earlier than planned, ruining their romantic movie night. "I was gonna play it by ear, y'know, in case something like that happens."

"Fair." Pico crosses his arms and fixes Boyfriend with a stare. "So how are you gonna save this night then?"

"Dunno yet." Boyfriend bites his lip and scratches at the table. "Like I said, I don't have much planned, so like..." His eyes wander over to the stage. A keyboard is the only instrument present on the stage alongside the stereos. He blinks slowly at the sight of it, a hum low in his throat.

"What? Ya suddenly got an idea?" Pico follows his gaze and whistles low. "Gonna sing a love song?"

"What? No." A pause. "Maybe. I dunno."

"You dunno?"

"I don't really have a song lined up." But it would be perfect. She loves it when he sings. Or raps. Or does anything really. And she did seem a little disappointed when she found out that there wasn't going to be a show tonight...

"You're a rapper," Pico supplies easily. "Just freestyle."

"But I don't have any beats." Which is true, unless he gets some help. His eyes wander up to meet Pico's gaze. "...Can I ask a favor?"

"Shoot."

"You still beatbox?"

And Pico smirks. "Only if ya got a plan."

Boyfriend looks around the bar, his eyes landing on the Spooky Boys and Cassette Girl. Music flows behind his eyes as he maps out the beats and flows on the spot. Fingers tap out the rhythm he wants to follow, and Pico taps his foot in tandem. "I think," he says, watching as Girlfriend comes back into the bar with a gloomy look on her face, "I've got a plan."

Pico leans forward, and Boyfriend quickly whispers it to him before shooing the ginger away. When Girlfriend takes her seat, Boyfriend takes it upon himself to buy some time for Pico as he keeps Girlfriend's attention on him.

"Something up?"

"Oh, it's just Daddy." Her frown deepens, and Boyfriend can feel his heart drop from the sight. She shouldn't be unhappy on their anniversary - of course her dad would ruin things for her. "He wants me to come home early, says he doesn't want me to stay over too late since he doesn't trust you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Tch. Your old man needs to lay off." From the corner of his eye, he sees Cassette Girl wander to some backroom, only to reappear with a few more coworkers as one of them takes over her position by the podium. Pico follows her next, helping her set up a couple of mics as she tests out the keyboard. The noises catch the attention of the patrons, including Girlfriend as she turns in interest at the ruckus.

"What's going on? Oh, is there a show happening after all?" A small smile forms on her lips as she watches the prep. "I wonder who they managed to get!"

"Yeah, I wonder." Boyfriend lets her watch them for a second longer before taking her attention again. "So how long can you stay out?"

"Mmm, at most, maybe an hour? Daddy's imps will come and pick me up, regardless of where I am." She puffs her cheeks out, which would normally be cute if she wasn't so distressed. "Mommy was okay with me spending the night! But Daddy won't even let me stay before midnight, so that ruins movie night..."

"Hey, don't worry about it. We can always have movie night whenever." He reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a firm, comforting squeeze.

"But today was supposed to be our day." She frowns again, holding onto his hand as she sighs softly. "We were supposed to have a nice night doing whatever we wanted. And now that's going to be ruined because my dad is being... himself again."

Random beats start playing. It takes them both by surprise as they turn around to see Pico messing with... some kind of pad? Is that a launchpad? Cassette Girl shakes her head and points to some buttons before Pico nods and- ah. So he didn't steal it from someone. Clearly, it was Cassette Girl's own device.

"What are they doing?" Girlfriend watches with more interest as the two kids clamber onto the stage, Pico talking to them softly as they nod along to whatever he's saying excitedly. He wags his finger like a metronome, and the boys both follow its movement before nodding furiously as he grins and pats the tops of their heads. As Pico looks up from the boys, he meets Boyfriend's gaze and gives a small nod before standing up.

"They're getting a show ready for you." Boyfriend grins when Girlfriend looks over to him bewildered.

"What do you mean, for me?"

"Heeeellloooo, everyone!" Cassette Girl speaks into the microphone with her familiar drawl, getting the patrons to quiet down as they watch with rapt attention. "Now, as you know, our booked gig for tonight ended up cancelling, but at the very last minute, we managed to snag another performer instead! You may be familiar with his bright blue hair and obnoxious voice," a rumble of laughter rolls through the crowd, but he takes it all in stride as he waits for the intro to end, "but he's gotten pretty famous throughout these parts for his amazing freestyle rap! Dedicated to his lovely Girlfriend of one year, we have Mr. Boyfriend, here to perform for one night only!"

"Boyfriend?!" Girlfriend's eyes widen in excitement as he stands from his seat, grinning confidently as he winks to her. It's not often he gets to perform for the sake of performing, so he wants to make this the best performance she's ever seen.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

As if he wasn't.

He takes the offered microphone from Cassette Girl as she takes her place behind the keyboard.

"Heya, folks!" He waves out to the crowd as the people who recognize him from his many rap battles cheer him on. Girlfriend cheers from the crowd, for once enjoying the show as just a normal person, instead of being in the thick of it. "Like Cassey said, this show is dedicated to my Girlfriend. I started this whole career for her, and if it weren't for her, I never would have found this flow in my life. I love her more than any song can convey, so I hope a show's worth of songs can get the message along. Now are you ready to get funkin' lit?!"

The crowd erupts into cheers as Girlfriend stands and cheers the loudest, her smile wide and bright as she pumps her fist in the air. They wait for the crowd to calm down before Pico starts his beatboxing. The beat begins slow, the notes sounding familiar as recognition settles on Girlfriend's features.

"Yo," he begins, holding the microphone close to his lips as he gets into the beat, "it's the remix." Pico's beatboxing continues before Cassette Girl joins in with her keyboard. The beat plays from the launchpad as the beatboxing ends, and that's his cue to start rapping.

"Don't look complacent, wearin' those rags, you ain't adjacent. Lookie, I'm fly, and you look basic. Look in her eyes, and I feel like takin' it for the win." He meets Girlfriend's gaze with a grin as he waves his hand back and forth, pumping the crowd up as he continues to rap.

"Her dad be evil, no twin. Skin purp' like the Sprite, sippin'. He open his yap and you wouldn't believe it's the sound of an angel when he spittin'." At Pico's cue, Skid and Pump join in with a chant of, "Go man go! Go man go!" They keep it up as Boyfriend continues to rap, the energy high and exciting as he performs for fun.

"Even though he look like a demon, hold my blue nuts as I battle for the takin'. Of this girl, I just wanna hold her hand. Look in our DM's and it's like candy land." Boyfriend kneels on the stage and gestures for Girlfriend to come closer. Without missing a beat, Girlfriend makes her way over, her head bobbing in time to the rhythm as she smiles blissfully.

"Yo, I really can't bust when her evil ass dad tryna make my ass be grass. So I got one shot, learned to spit real hot, and it might just go like this." As he takes her hand, he pulls her onto the stage and the Spooky Boys go quiet for his next lines.

"I don't mean no disrespect, but there's something about her I can't let go. Baby, you know that I love you, even though my balls are blue." The joke gets a giggle from Girlfriend, and it takes all his willpower not to stop rapping just to kiss her right there.

"I want to spend my life with her, even if her dad is evil or some shit. Now spit it like this: we gettin' freaky on a Friday night, chyeah!" The crowd goes wild as he scoops Girlfriend up in one arm, cradling her against his body as he continues to rap. Her arms wrap around his neck as she leans against him, warm and happy in his embrace.

As she should be.

The Spooky Boys return with the chant, pumping the crowd up some more as they cheer loudly with the rap.

"I just want to hold her tight, chyeah! Her hair, her eyes, her thighs, yeah. If I die, it'll all be worth it. Just to get a chance to show she's worth it!" He sways with the beat, watching as the crowd gets into the performance. Besides him, Cassette Girl is grinning, nodding her head to the beat as she plays the mellow tunes on her keyboard. Pico meanwhile focuses his attention alternating between beatboxing and playing the right beats on the launchpad, all while paying attention to the song and directing when the boys start and end their chant. Despite the amount of tasks on his shoulders, he holds himself high and proud, enjoying himself with a smile as he moves with the beat. Even the kids are enjoying themselves, bouncing on the spot and watching Pico intently for his cues. A part of Boyfriend wonders if they're even paying attention to the lyrics or if they're too engrossed in the beats and sounds coming from the keyboard and launchpad to even care.

Not that it matters.

All that matters is that they're all having fun . He looks out into the crowd and sees smile upon smile as they're all enjoying themselves to the music. This. This is what performing is all about. The energy, the enjoyment, everyone losing themselves to the music and forgetting their woes and worries for even just a minute-

That's what makes it all so worth it.

He raps the chorus one last time before letting the beat peter out, Pico ending the song with his beatboxing increasing in tempo before ending it abruptly. The crowd continues their cheers as Boyfriend yells into his microphone.

"You guys ready for more?!"

There's no doubt in his mind that he will absolutely be banned from the bar after this show, just with how rowdy the crowd is getting. But it's all worth it in the end as he nods to his friends to play whatever beat that comes to mind. He'll come up with the lyrics on the fly, all of them dedicated to Girlfriend as he sets her down and holds her tight to his side as they sway together.

He doesn't know how long they go for. All the hype and excitement pushes him to continue, and when he looks over to see if Pico or Cassette Girl or even the boys look just a little tired, he's surprised to see them too excited to even consider taking a break. The night is filled with raps filled with jokes and love as the clock finally strikes ten.

Time to end the show.

"Alriiiight, everyone!" Cassette Girl takes the microphone back from Boyfriend, panting slightly as she gestures to the crowd that grew during the performance. "Unfortunately, that's it for this show! Thanks for watching, hope you enjoyed your meals, and please, come back again when we host another gig or open mic!" The crowd applauds as they all bow. Cassette Girl pats his shoulder with a grin and turns back to help Pico clean up. Girlfriend clings to his side, giggling and burying her face against his neck.

"Ohhh, that was so much fun!" Her giddiness makes him laugh as he hugs her tight, covering her face in kisses as he breathes for the first time since the performance began.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Are you kidding?!" She laughs and picks him up, twirling them together in a circle before cuddling him midair. "That was the most fun I've had in ages!"

"I'm glad," he admits, relief washing over him that their night was a success after all. "Sucks we didn't finish our dinners though."

"I can get boxes for them." Pico shows up next to them, both kids curled up in his arms as they cling to him. "Or, uh, I can get Cass to get 'em for ya."

"Aww, are they tired?" Girlfriend sets Boyfriend down to take a look at the kids. "They did a really good job tonight!" Skid lifts his head up, a tired but bright smile on his face as he giggles.

"That was fun! I wanna do it again, Mr. Pico!"

"I'll think about it. Remember what we promised before the show?"

"No repeating the bad words around mom," both boys respond, although Pump's words are muffled against Pico's shirt. He chuckles and nods towards the couple.

"I gotta get these kids home. You guys get some rest too."

"We will." Boyfriend stretches, feeling worn out from the show.

"See ya."

"Bye, Pico!" Girlfriend waves as Pico walks off, the two kids waving from Pico's arms. "He really is good with kids, even if he won't admit it."

"He's always been protective of them." They both hum, the thought sobering them a bit as they watch the ginger disappear in the crowd. "We should visit him later and make sure he's okay too."

"Sounds like a plan." Girlfriend smiles and takes his hand, swinging their arms between them. A waitress comes by quickly, helping them pack their barely eaten dinners and shooing them out of the bar. As they leave, Boyfriend passes by Server-chan, her expression still looking exhausted as their eyes meet. But despite this, she smiles when she sees him, and he hopes she had fun too during his show.

He and Girlfriend walk for about five minutes before a limo pulls up beside them. She sighs and turns to hug him tight, her face buried in his shoulder before she kisses him softly.

"Thanks for the lovely night," she whispers, soft and tender as the warmth from her cheek seeps through his shirt. "It really was the best night of my life."

"I'm glad then," he whispers back, pressing a kiss to her temple. "'Cause I'm gonna make sure I make every night the best night of your life from now on."

She giggles, pulling herself away reluctantly before climbing into the limo. He watches as it drives away into the night, leaving him alone.

The night air is cold and brisk, but he finds himself warm regardless. A smile wide and bright on his face as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, a tune coming out in the form of a whistle as he walks home.

What a night to remember.

19 notes · View notes

ssatoritendou · 3 years

Text

Backup | i.

back up | ii.

Pairing: Bokuto/reader Atsumu /reader

Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou

Word count: 5.4k

+ summary: (time skip) You have a one-sided crush on your close friend, best friend Bokuto Koutarou however you’re are being strung along after he suffers heartbreak after heartbreak with his loving heart. Atsumu is both of your friends and sees the clear problems with the situation so he plans to help you to get over Bokuto.

Genre: angst fluff

Warning: vulgar language, 18+ scenarios

You were currently eating dinner with some of the Black Jackals. You had met them through Bokuto. Which right now was out with his new girlfriend or should you say the new love of his. It was painfully obvious to everyone except Bokuto himself that you had a crush on him. “____ it’s not that he doesn’t like you,” Hinata said trying to cheer you up. “Hinata that doesn’t really help her,” Sakusa said rubbing his eyes. “It’s ok Sho. Personally, I just don’t get what he sees in her. She is just so-” “Let’s not sugar coat it. She a controlling bitch who has her hand so far up his ass that she can talk for him. Like he’s a ventriloquist dummy.” Atsumu said sipping on his beer happy with his analogy. Even under a face mask, Sakusa can still make a disgusted look. “You are always so vulgar. Please a lady is present.” “He’s right though Sakusa. He’s just different. He doesn’t even gel his hair up anymore. He dresses differently. He isn’t the usual ‘Hey, Hey, Hey!’ spirit.” You pointed out. “I do have to agree with you there. At first, it was kind of relaxing and now it’s bone-chilling.” “I miss the old Bokuto. He makes you excited about volleyball even if you are playing against him.” Hinata sighed.

“____, get over it. This is how it goes he dates the girlfriend and for lack of a better term-” “There is a better term so don’t say what you are going to say.” “He is pussy-whipped.” Atsumu stated once again with Sakusa rolled his eyes. “This is his routine. He falls in love with every girl he lays eyes on and then they break his heart because they get bored of someone doing every little thing for them.” Except you, Bokuto didn’t fall in love with you when he laid eyes on you. Maybe because his actions were pure. But you didn’t have a crush when you first saw him either. This one-sided love thing was killing you slowly. So much it was like you could breathe in front of your best friend.

By the end of the night, you and Atsumu were driving home together since you both lived near each other. He always walked you to your door. “Are you sure you are ok to drive?” You asked. “____ I only had one beer tonight and I was nursing it. I have to get up early tomorrow. Long day at the gym.” “You shouldn’t work out too much. Then the girls will be fawning over you too much.” You said with a laugh. “You mean my fan club? Now it’s just getting annoying. It was funny at first when there were only 3 showing up to my game and all I would do is a wink and they would collapse. Now it’s a crowd like Oikawa gets.” “Really seems like you really enjoy and they do more than just stroke your ego.” You chuckled again. “You have had too much to drink.” “Have not! Bokuto told me that.” You whined. Atsumu thought for a minute. He knows he has complained a lot about his fan club to the team. But he wasn’t the only one with a fan club it seemed. Sakusa had fans too but he was much blunter towards them. He made a couple of them cry and Atsumu could never make a girl cry. Just wasn’t in his nature and if his mother found out...his ass would be handed to him. “Bokuto doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I would never hook up with a fan. It’s not right. They have feelings for me and I wouldn’t use them for my own enjoyment.” “That’s rather noble of you. So you are a gentleman.” “Of course I am.” He defended himself. “Are you coming to the game on Tuesday?” “Yeah, it starts at 4 right?” “Yeah, it does. But don’t you usually come for our warm-ups, before anything starts?” “Bo told me that is when the warm-ups were. Maybe he just got confused with the times.” Atsumu rolled his eyes. That’s right the girlfriend was coming now too. Didn’t want you there obviously. But Atsumu wasn’t going to let that happen. “Listen ___.” He became all serious. “I know you like him a lot. I do too in a different way but that is beside the point. Everyone likes him because he has that personality. You shouldn't wait for him. For him to get a new girlfriend every 4 months and him saying she is the one. When in reality she doesn’t even meet anyone besides us. You shouldn’t have to mend his broken heart every single time either. You shouldn’t have to feel like his back up when he feels like all else fails. Instead, make him feel like he is your back up. Because if he was truly just your best friend he wouldn’t treat you like this.” You listened carefully to his words. He was right Bokuto was dim-witted but he wasn’t a complete idiot. He always came to you when he was broken. But you didn’t understand what the term back up meant. But you were too tipsy and tried to go into a detailed conversation about that. “Goodnight.” He said kissing the top of your head leaving your apartment.

Tuesday had come. Which meant seeing Bokuto. Who you haven’t seen or heard from in a while. There were the occasional hi’s and he asked questions about preparing a meal in a microwave. Just out of curiosity you asked what time you should be at the game today. He still told you 4. You wanted to double-check with Atsumu. He told you again that the game started at four and that they would probably arrive at 3:15. He even offered to pick you before he headed to the bus to drive there. You had never driven on the bus with Bokuto. It almost felt like you were stabbing him in the back. But Atsumu sent a funny message saying, ‘I only ask because you are a horrible drive. I’m afraid for the pedestrians on the road.’ It made you laugh. You agreed to go on the bus with them. You knew everyone. It wouldn’t be awkward.

“M’lady,” Atsumu said bowing in front of the open doors of the bus. “Are you still keeping out the gentleman act?” “I assure you it is not an act. I will even offer my hand in helping you up these steps.” “You are so weird sometimes. It makes me wonder about your twin.” He did indeed help you on the bus following right behind you and picking the back seat and even giving you the window seat. “I’ll have you know I’m not the weirder twin. If anything it’s Samu.” “Oh, really why is that?” Before he could give you an answer. Hinata, Bokuto, and his girlfriend were making their way on the bus. You had no clue she was going to be here. Atsumu knew and that is why he offered. Atsumu didn’t think you deserved to be treated like this even if Bokuto was his friend. He needed to break your heart sadly. You had to learn that there was no chance between you and Bokuto. That you two would remain friends. “Hey ___!” Hinata shouted running towards the backsliding next to Atsumu. “Bokuto didn’t tell us you were coming on the ride too.” “Because he didn’t. I did. You have been in her car those pedestrians are endangered when she is behind the wheel.” Atsumu said. “I’m not that bad. I passed my driver's test.” “Probably because the teacher had already seen you try so many times he just gave it to you to never get back in the car with you.” You hit his stomach. He leaned over. “I’ve had worse than that Princess.” You blushed at his sudden sweet nickname for you. “Don’t call me that.” “Alright, babe.” He said with a laugh stretching out. “You want a drink before we start moving? I know you get car sick easily.” “Yes please.” He got up from his spot and took off his jacket and put it down on the seat. And walked over to the cooler sitting in the front of the bus. Bokuto had been watching your interaction with the setter. He found it strange. He knew you were friendly with his team but not full friends like the two of you were right? “Hey, Atsumu why did you bring ___?” “She asked me if the game was still at 4 today and I had to remind her that warm-ups were before that. I just offered to bring her here. It’s a lot easier. I didn’t think the coach would mind since your girlfriend rides the bus every game now.” ‘Your Girlfriend?’ The owl thought to himself. That was an odd way of phrasing it. Did that mean that you two were dating? And you didn’t tell him!? And with a fuck boy like Atsumu?! “Can me and ___ sit in the back seat?” “You really want to sit back there with both Hinata and ___ who both are prone to being car sick. I can afford to have vomit on me. I always bring an extra pair of sweatpants.” “Ko we can sit up here it’s fine. I don’t want to be near throw up again.” Atsumu rolled his eyes at her and walked back to you and Hinata. “Sho says that Saeko Tanka is a worse driver than me.” “You don’t even know her how can you be a definitive judge on her driving skills.” “Shoyo says he almost died with Kageyama in the car.” “It’s true Sumu, except he was sleeping half the time and eating the other half. He wouldn’t have noticed.” “So she is worse than ___ but doesn’t mean ___ is the best driver in the world.” You pouted on not winning this argument. “Stop pouting babe. I rather see you smile.” He smirked. You falsed a smile. “What was Bo asking?” You asked him. “He asked if he and she could sit back here like they always do.” “Always do?” You asked out-loud. “Yeah, almost every game he takes her on the bus and brings her to the games. He has she likes this VIP treatment of being the only one on the bus beside the team. And the only one who can really watch us while we warm up.” He said going into his bag pulling out his iPad and headphones. ‘Only one.’ You repeated in your head. “But I figured she was feeling too special as of late. And besides, you know more about volleyball and you can see Sakusa basically wash his entire seat before he sits in it.” “Isn’t this the Jackal's bus?” You asked thinking you saw the jacket's decal on the side of the bus. “Yes. We are the only ones that use it. And he has sat in that seat every single time. I’m convinced that he comes here it a vacuum cleaner and cleans the entire bus when we aren’t practicing.” He laughed a little. He noticed you weren’t really paying attention to him. “Don’t bother with them. Don’t even think about it. You want to watch the other team play?” “Sure.”

You arrived at the gym. Atsumu told you to go to the bench where the coach and to watch them warm-up. “We can take the train home. And get dinner.” “Yeah let’s do that. Is the train station far from here?” “No, I don’t think so,” Atsumu said. “Gotta go now.” Bokuto came up to you to say something. “Hey ___. I didn’t think you were going to come to warm-ups today.” It was his phrasing that got to you. He never spoke to you like that before. “Atsumu asked me to come.” “Oh. Why aren’t you sitting up in the bleachers?” “Atsumu said it was fine that I sit here.” You weren’t even looking up from your phone. “Are you just doing everything he says?” “Yes. Were friends Bokuto we live close to each other. He almost always drives me home or I drive him home. We have dinners together too.” “So you guys are just friends?” He asked suspiciously. “Yes. Why do you ask that?” ‘Because he was calling you pet names and basically called you his girlfriend.’ He was thinking but he said in return, “No reason. But does that mean you are better friends with him than me?” He pouted. It was hard to tell now that he stopped gelling his hair up. You wanted to tell him, ‘Yes. He’s been a better friend as of recently.’ But you opted for one that wouldn’t hurt his feelings so much. “Of course not Bo.” You cupped his face. His face brightened up he almost looked like the old Bokuto that you knew. He glanced away for a second and then pulled from your hands. “I have to go now. The game is going to start soon. Make sure to go to the bleachers.” “Atsumu said I could stay here for the game.” You smiled at him.

“You guys played well today.” “We won by the skin of our teeth today, ___,” Atsumu said frustrated. “But you still won. That is a positive.” “Yeah, you are. What are you going to get?” “I think noodles. I’m not sure if I want soba or udon though. What about you?” “Skewers and onigiri.” “That does sound good.” “We can share if you get soba.” He said wiggling his eyebrows. You nodded your head and agreed. “You know my brother owns an onigiri shop.” “Really? That sounds fun.” “You find that interesting? That is what makes him the weird twin.” “How does that make him the unusual twin? You are a pro volleyball player and the setter. You have high chances of making it on the national team. Onigiri shop is pretty common.” “Exactly who wants to be ordinary.” He stated. “I don’t know. I like to think I’m ordinary.” “Please you are far from ordinary. You are an artist for Shonen Jump. And you are friends with me.” He smiled. “Sometimes Atsumu I wanna punch you across the face. But then you have those puffy cheeks and I could never.” “My cheeks are not puffy.” “They are when you smile.” You squished his cheeks. You enjoyed the light conversation with Atsumu. It made you feel like you were almost talking to Bokuto. But it was different Atsumu didn’t need your constant attention. Plus he wasn’t always happy-happy with everyone. When he didn’t like someone he made it very clear he didn’t not like you. Sometimes he was a dick to people he first meets but gives him the time. “I have a question what is a backup?” You asked. “A backup?” He asked back thinking about what you were asking. “Oh. What Bokuto is using you as?” “Yes.” “It means that you are a standby partner or significant other anticipated as a potential romantic or sexual partner in the event of a failure or unforeseen end of the current relationship.” “And you think Bo is using me for that?” “It’s known at this point. Just his body language and the way he talks to you or about you. It is like he’s territorial over you but doesn’t want you to think that he is actually attracted to you all the time like right now with his girlfriend. Then he goes back to you and then the cycle starts all over again. At least you don’t use him as an emotional fluffer.” “What is an emotional fluffer?” “Oh my, you are so innocent when it comes to relationships. It means using a friend as a significant except they don’t get any of the benefits.” “Shouldn’t shock you that I’m a relationship virgin. I’ve never been in a relationship.” “Not even in high school.” “I was focused on graduating and getting into college.” “Let’s face it your volleyball team wasn’t that attractive.” “Are you calling me a groupie?” “Maybe.” He was laughing. “Nah I’m just joking.” “Wouldn't you be my fluffer?” “How so?” “We go out to dinner, you drive me home sometimes, you have pet-names for me, and you sometimes fix things around my apartment.” “Yeah, but you do the same things for me. Accept the fixing, you just cook for me. You pay for some dinners and you drive me home. So we are both equally fluffers.” You nodded. “Is that a bad thing?” “I don’t think so.” “How does one stop being a backup?” “You date someone else make it apparent to him that you are off the market.” “Good. How do I do that?” “Have you ever been on a date?” “No.” You said lowly. “Ok. Ok. So Friday I have a practice. I will be taking you to a nice restaurant, I’ll come to pick you up, I’ll pay for dinner and dessert.” “Atsumu...” He put his finger in front of your face. “And dress nice too.”

“Come on Atsumu one more set let’s go,” Bokuto said. “Bokuto I have to go. I have a date.” “A date Atsumu?” Sakusa questioned. “With who, Tsumu?” Shoyo asked. “____.” He said sternly but he was excited. While the team was staring him down. Bokuto dropping the ball. “I gotta get home and shower. I have to look nice for her and pick up flowers.” “Didn’t think she would ever say yes to you,” Sakusa said. “But you have to be a gentleman towards her.” “I always am. But I seriously have to go.” Atsumu collected his things and was making his way out the door. Bokuto came running after him. “Why are you taking her out?” “I like her. She is sweet. I like spending time with her.” “She isn’t-” “Yeah I know she isn’t one of my fangirls. And she said something about you telling her that I fucked around with them. Which you and I both know I didn’t. That would be a waste of time. ____ isn’t a waste of my time.” “She said yes.” “Yeah, she did. Why does that surprise you? I spend more time with her than you have in the past month, past year whenever you have a new girlfriend.” Atsumu wasn’t going to listen to any more of whatever pure crap was about to come out of Bokuto’s mouth. And went home to prepare for his date with you.

“___ why did you FaceTime me on a Friday night while I’m editing?” Akaashi asked over the phone call. “You are a guy and my friend and I wanted to ask your opinion on this dress.” You said to your coworker and friend. “Why not ask Bokuto?” “I can’t ask him.” “Why can’t you ask him? And be honest with me because if you don’t tell me he will.” “I’m going on a date.” “A date? With who?” “Miya Atsumu.” “His teammate!” He yelled into the phone surprised. “Akaashi that is beside the point. He doesn’t know that I’m going on this date. And as it was pointed out to me I can’t just sit and wait for Bokuto to decide he wants to be with me. It’s not healthy.” “No, it’s not.” Akaashi agreed. Akaashi never met any of Bokuto’s fleeting romances. He told Bokuto after he met one that was completely rude to everyone. He made it a rule that they had to be dating for at least 5 months. Which was never going to happen. “What was your question?” “Is this dress slutty to go to a nice dinner?” You were wearing a black spaghetti strap dress that fell just at your knees with black stockings. Your hair down with a clip-on on either side. Wearing a simple locket that your mother had bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. You were wearing basic black heels. “You remember those earrings I bought for your birthday the blue ones. Put those in and put on that crop navy cardigan.” You listened to your friend and put those things on. “I do have navy heels, should I put them on?” Akaashi thought about it for a minute. “Yes. I think that will pull the look together.” He hummed with that. “It is nice to see you going out since you are a homebody.” You chuckled. You knew he was just trying to ease you. “I go out with friends. But I see what you are saying because of my position at Jump I can be anywhere and do my work. Hey, I could be in Antarctica all I have to do is meet the deadline and attend meetings virtually.” “What I mean is whenever Bokuto gets a new girlfriend he prioritizes them after volleyball. He even combines the two. When you two became friends through me I asked him to keep an eye on you. But he failed obviously.” “Don’t blame him for having a big heart Akaashi. That he loves so deeply.” You hummed. “Are you going out to go out with and to date Atsumu? Or are you going out with him to get over your crush on Bokuto?” It was a practice date you knew that. Atsumu didn’t really have feelings for you. He wanted to help you get over Bokuto. It wasn’t real. But you weren’t sure if you say to Akaashi that it was that. “Can’t it be both?” “I just worry that you might hurt him if he is just a rebound for your crush. And I don’t that burden on your shoulders.” “It will be fine Akaashi. Now how do I look?” Akaashi was starring at you attentively. “Yes, you look nice. Definitely not slutty.”

Atsumu knocked on your door. He straightened his tie and he held the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. When you opened the door you almost made him speechless. “Hello, Gorgeous. I bought you some flowers.” “Thank you Atsumu.” You took the flowers and placed them in the kitchen vase. “You look very handsome tonight Atsumu. All for me?” “Of course for you. M’lady?” He stuck out his arm out to you. You gladly took it. “And where are you taking me on this fine evening?” “I’m taking you to the new hibachi restaurant.” “Atsumu that is expensive.” “Hush now. I plan to treat you to a wonderful meal after you got dressed up.” He said to you opening the car door for you abs helping you into the passenger seat. “You cleaned your car for me. You really are a gentleman for your dates. Careful Atsumu you might accidentally cause me to fall in love with you.” You joked. “Like I would mind you falling for me Babe.” He stated.

The restaurant was beautiful. Atsumu was able to snag a really good table too. He requested the corner table in the right corner booth. You and he were able to look out at the restaurant. You sat next to him in the booth, he made sure that you sat close to him. “Do you know what you want? Do you want appetizers?” “I do if it means I can spend more time with you.” He smirked at you. “Let’s get soup. It’s light filling so we can enjoy our meal.” He leaned into your ear and whispered, “Hopefully dessert too.” You never thought Atsumu can be this attractive to you. You knew he was hot but this was different. You kind of enjoyed it. You turned your head your lips almost touching, “Trust me I want dessert.” “Hmm. You are good at flirting can’t believe you haven’t been on a date.” He pulled away slightly he had his hand resting on your thigh. You had to remind yourself this isn’t real. “Are you always this flirty with your dates?” You ask. “Yes.” He sighed. “But it’s not that I go out a lot. I am really focused on volleyball and time with my friends. Plus my alone time.” “What do you do during your free time?” “I play video games, go to the gym, watch old matches and try to learn new sets. Sometimes I go to Osamu’s shop and help there. I should take you there sometime.” “Planning a second date already Atsumu?” You teased him. “Of course anything for my beautiful girl.” He laughed. “What have you been up to recently?” “Currently I’m working with an illustrator and author of romance that also has monsters in it. It’s only just starting. It’s a lot of meetings and figuring out what they want the style to be and where the story will go.” “It is not too much for you right?” “No. I like this part of it.” You smiled at him. The waiter was coming over to your table. “Let’s order now.”

“Do you actually want dessert or do you want to go home?” Atsumu asked you as the waiter was taking your plate away. “Mmm. Let’s get ice cream at that ice cream place not far from your apartment.” You said. He paid the bill and he didn’t let you see the bill and you left. You however paid for the ice cream. You knew guys shouldn’t always have to pay. “I was supposed to be treating you on this date.” “I’m your date too, Atsumu. It is only fair that I also pay for something.” He smiled happily at that comment. “I like the idea of being treated nicely. The way I deserve.” Atsumu said sticking his spoon in his mouth. “What flavor-” Before you could even finish asking the question, he stuck the spoon in your mouth. “Pistachio? I didn’t peg you as a pistachio guy.” “Trust me you will never peg me.” He hummed at his perfectly timed comment. “You do realize that I inadvertently kissed you.” You blushed. “Don’t be an idiot Atsumu.” He laughed at your cute reaction. He put out his hand, “Come on let’s go home ___.”

He was walking you upstairs with his arm around your waist. It wasn’t weird being this flirty with Atsumu, in fact, it felt oddly comfortable. “Did you have fun tonight?” He asked as you were opening the door. “Yes, I did. Too bad every date isn’t going to be like this one.” You sighed. “No one can live up to my first date with the Great Miya Atsumu.” “No one has to if you don’t want to.” He stated leaning against the wall. “What Atsumu?” He shifted facing towards you and looking you in the eyes. “If you want to continue going on dates, hold hands in public, kiss even if you are comfortable with that. I don’t do things that will waste my time. I don’t think it would be a waste of time to date you.” You were speechless. “Atsumu I-I don’t know what to say.” “Think about it then. You have my number and you know where I live.”

“Sakusa, Bokuto, Oriver let’s run some quick attacks.” “Sure Tsumu-Tsumu!” Bokuto yelled. “What about me Atsumu?” Hinata asked. “We have been running attacks all day. I have to practice with other spikers too.” “Hinata I want to practice my setting with you,” Inunaki said. Atsumu started practicing his spikes with his teammates. He had a set way of setting to each player. He was working hard on that. Being able to predict his teammate's moves much like his rival Kageyama. Bokuto liked softer spikes than Sakusa’s so he could slam them hard on the ground. He sets the ball just as Bokuto was coming to spike it over the net. The ball made its way over the net but not to Atsumu’s satisfactory. “Sorry, Bokkun wasn’t my best set for you today. I think I need a break.” Atsumu went to the bench and pulled his water from his bag. Sakusa came over to him handing him a towel to wipe himself with. “How did your date go with ___ on Friday.” “It went well. I took her to this new hibachi restaurant I paid for. She bought ice cream for us. I cleaned my car, dressed nice and bought her flowers. I wanted her to feel special. She means a lot to me.” “I still can’t believe she said yes. Considering.” Sakusa looked over to Bokuto. “Sakusa can I tell you something in private?” The spiker nodded and they walked away from their teammates. Sakusa perked his ears to the bottle blonde's information. “It was her first date.” “Oh.” “Not that I had a problem with that. When she told me that I decided that I was going to treat her out. The only reason she even mentioned it was because she wants to get over the great horned owl.” “So you took her out as a practice date?” “Something like that. But I do like her. I told her that and I told her I would like to date her. I asked her to think about it. I wouldn’t be mad at her if she turned down the offer. I would still like to be her friend if she was comfortable with that.” “Would you be ok with being her rebound or second option?” “I wouldn’t think of it like that.” “That’s rather mature of you Atsumu. It seems that you are growing up.”

Miya Atsumu had officially distracted you from work. Sure you have or had a crush on Bokuto but this feeling of being strung along and used felt horrible. He was a great friend. But this feeling was crushing you. Atsumu was nice. He was great. He made you feel good about yourself and he made you feel alive. He made you feel special. Akaashi's words were stuck in your head. You didn’t want Atsumu to feel second to Bokuto. The idea, the action dating him was more than tempting it sounded like a dream. You needed to talk to him. You decided to text him to come to your house after his workout.

You had put out cookies. Baking had always calmed you and Atsumu loves to eat. The knock on the door had you up on your feet so fast. “hi.” You said in a small voice. “Hello ___. May I come in?” “Please. Do you want a cookie?” “I will literally eat anything you bake.” He smiled happily taking off his shoes. He rushed to the cookie plate and brought it to a seat in your living room. “You said you wanted to talk?” “Yes, about your proposal.” “Ok. Before we talk I want to say something. I want you to say everything that you are thinking. I will respond when you are done. If it is a rejection, I want you to know I will not be mad and I would still like to be friends.” You nodded. Ok, here you go. “First things first, I would like to date you. I like how you made me feel on our date. I liked how you made me feel before the date. I worry though that at some point you will feel I choose you second that I put you second. I don’t want you to feel like a second option I know that you sometimes felt that way in childhood being a twin. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.” You leaned into your body not wanting to look at him. Atsumu put the plate down and held you close to him. “I hear you. I want to say if I don’t want or think I will feel that way. I promise you that your crush your one-sided love will mean nothing to me. If I help you get over him I’m happy to do that. I want to date you in spite of that because I care about you a lot. And that date meant a lot to me. I wanted you to feel special because you are that to me. I will try every day to treat you like that if you will be my girlfriend.” You squeezed his body. “Alright let’s do this. I want to be your girlfriend.” You looked up to him. He did his childish smirk, pulled your face to his, and placed a light kiss. "I am yours, My Beautiful Girl."

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 3 years

Text

Mosaic Broken Hearts (But This Love is Brave and Wild)

Part 2 | See the Full Series Here

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 5,140

Warnings: None

Summary: The Doctor knows she loves you, that isn’t her concern. However, doesn't know what to do about it. For help, she calls up one of her old faces for advice, but doesn't get the regeneration she was bargaining for. (This is technically a sequel to Your Hand Print's on my Soul but can be read as a standalone)

Key: Y/N - Your Name, Y/P1 - she, he, or they, Y/P2 - her, him, or their

A/N: So here's what I've decided on the pronouns front. When Reader is the subject of the sentence, it'll be Y/P1 (these are for pronouns like she, he and they). When reader is the object of the sentence, it'll be Y/P2 (these are for pronouns such as her, him, and their). I'm doing it like this because thanks to a wonderful anon, I've learned that people use this extension that changes Y/N (and other acronyms) into your name. So instead of just Y/P, I figured it would help if I made a distinction. Let me know how you feel about this and how it goes!

“Right,” the Doctor said, and she dumped the small book in front of Yaz. “I need your help.”

Yaz looked up from her phone. The Doctor didn’t know what had captured her attention, but apparently she had been refreshing her feed all day. “…Right,” she glanced down at the book, then back at the Doctor. “What’s up?

“It won’t take too long,” The Doctor said. “I just need your opinion.”

Yaz set her phone to the side, and cautiously picked up the book. “What on?”

The Doctor gestured to the book.

Yaz opened it and flicked through a couple of pages. It was a photo album of all the Doctor’s past faces, and as Yaz flicked through them, her face fell into a small frown. “Hey Doc, no offence or anything but… Why am I looking at a bunch of photos of random old white men?”

“They used to me,” The Doctor said, and she sat down in front of Yaz, cross legged so that she was looking slightly up at her. Yaz had been curled up on the living room sofa, the BBC playing softly in the background on the TV.

They were in Yaz’s family apartment, house sitting for them whilst Yaz’s family were down at the Coast. Her family had extended the invitation to both Yaz and the Doctor, but neither wanted to be too far away in case of a crisis.

Yaz sighed, sitting up right so she could flick through the book properly. She eyed the Doctor, as if she didn’t quite believe her. It was a look the Doctor got often from her new friends, and it gave her an edge of amusement. “Hmm,” Yaz eyed the Doctor’s eighth face. “What am I looking for exactly?”

“Which one’s the most trustworthy,” The Doctor said, then she frowned. “No wait, that’s not right. Which one looks like they’ll give the best advice?”

Yaz raised an eyebrow. “Best advice? Doc, I can’t judge that from a photo.”

“Sure you can!” The Doctor said. “You can get it from a vibe! Besides, I need a neutral party to decide. I can just imagine technicolour dream coat and I getting into an argument. He wouldn’t like my rainbow, which doesn’t even make sense, have you seen how much rainbow is on him!”

Yaz quickly flicked backwards through the pages, until she landed on the Doctor’s sixth face, in all his curly blonde haired glory. “Is this him? Technicolour dream coat?”

The Doctor nodded her head. “Oh just look at that coat, I loved that coat. I reckon I’d look smashing in that coat today.” Yaz gave it an amused smile. “It’s certainly… striking,” then she closed the photo album and gave the Doctor a look, and the mood completely shifted.

The Doctor hated when Yaz did gave her this look, it was too… knowing. It was like she was piecing together all the things the Doctor had ever said, stitching together the real Doctor, the version of herself she wasn’t sure if she wanted the others to see. “Why do you need advice from one of these blokes anyway? We’re all here for you Doc, all of us.”

The Doctor’s jaw clenched. What was she supposed to say? Oh yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just in love with Y/N and need advice on how to deal with it, nothing big or important at all.

Because that was the thing though, she wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to do about it. She wasn’t sure whether she should pursue you, if that would even be fair, given the weight that was her everything.

And? If she did decide to pursue you? If the Doctor was really going to be so selfish? Well, she couldn’t even begin to know where to start with that.

So fresh eyes, eyes that understood her to her very core. That’s what she needed.

“Honestly,” the Doctor swallowed. It was difficult being honest in this face, speaking so openly like this. She had to practise, not just for herself, not just for you, but for the rest of her friends too. “I don’t know,” she said, eventually. “But I know, right now at least, the only person who can tell me… is, well, me.” I just don’t know which me to choose, I don’t want to be biased about it, base my decision on baseless things like the opinion on a coat, for example.

“And Yaz, you’re good at this, brilliant at it even. You know people, you know how to judge people immediately. I’m asking you because… well, because I trust you. You’re one of my best mate’s Yaz, who else would I ask?

Yaz chewed her lip, giving the Doctor a look she couldn’t yet recognise. “Alright,” she said, at last. She flicked through the book, and the Doctor watched as Yaz scrutinised each and every one of the Doctor’s old faces. She made some comments from time to time, mostly about the clothes the Doctor had once worn, or certain hairstyles.

Finally, she settled on someone. “Him,” she said. “He’s got a knowing face.”

She turned the book around so the Doctor could see. Huh. Yaz had chosen her tenth face; Sandshoes.

Well, technically her eleventh face, but that was neither here nor there.

The Doctor pondered over the thought for a moment. He wasn’t a bad choice, in fact, he was probably the best choice of the bunch. He’d wanted love more than anyone, he had fallen in love, so easily, so quickly, so readily.

At the very least he knew how to navigate it.

“That,” the Doctor said finally. “Is an excellent choice, I think.”

“Yeah?” Yaz said, and she was smiling. “You reckon?”

The Doctor nodded vigorously. This could work, this could be perfect.

Which was why, when the Doctor was finally alone, she set her plan into motion.

You, Ryan, and Graham had agreed to come over around the same time Yaz’s fam did, which had been the Doctor’s suggestion. She just needed one short moment, just a minute, a quick duck out and duck in, none of you would ever even notice – you wouldn’t know.

So, when Yaz’s family came home, and she was letting them inside, the Doctor snuck into the TARDIS, which had been parked in the spare room.

Now, the thing about time travel, the very tricky thing about time travelling, is that travelling through your own time stream could be messy, very messy. The Doctor knew this, of course, and, when she had decided that she was going to meet up with her past self, she had planned to circumvent this.

The first thing she had to do was think of a location that wouldn’t be prone to a violent world ending, explosion making paradox – which she had already done; The Medusa Cascade. She had been there enough, in so many regenerations, that the old girl would barely bat an eye should she materialise at the same time as a past version of themselves.

And even if the TARDIS did realise when exactly she was going (which, of course she would, nothing got past the TARDIS), well, the TARDIS was such a romantic, surely she wouldn’t mind.

So the Doctor punched in the coordinates.

The second thing the Doctor had to do was send her old self a message, one that conveyed the urgent-ness of the meeting, but not too urgent. She’d run into her timestream so many times now that it was basically an annual holiday for her, but that didn’t change the fact that this was something she definitely shouldn’t do lightly.

She had a message, or, well, at least, the idea of a message.

The third thing, well, the third thing she had to do, was sync up their TARDIS’, create an artificial temporal feedback loop between the two TARDIS’ so neither one of them would vomit the Doctor(s) out. Hopefully, what it would do would allow both her and sandshoes to exist in the same TARDIS, whilst also not existing in the same TARDIS at all.

The Doctor waited for someone – you, to tell her that she was clever.

Then she whacked her head on one of the crystals that towered around the console and realised you weren’t in the room at all, that all of those words had just been her internal monologue.

Huh, well then.

She rubbed her head with the back of her hand, trying to subside the throbbing, pounding, sensation that was rattling against on her forehead. She punched in the rest of the coordinates, pulled up the leaver, and was off.

The TARDIS groaned loudly. She was shuddering dramatically, and the Doctor almost groaned. “C’mon old girl, don’t tell me you’ve gone bitter in your old age.”

A panel on the wall popped off, leaking angry fiery, sparks. The Doctor yelped, and glared around her person, so the TARDIS could clearly see who the glare was directed at. “Now that wasn’t necessary.”

With a shaky grumble, the TARDIS landed, floating in deep space. The sparks stopped as soon as they started, and the Doctor made a mental note to patch it up before she left.

Right then, time for the message.

A video call wouldn’t be right, not for this. She needed something dramatic, something mysterious, something her past self would latch on and be too curious about to ignore. A simple message, completely appropriate, just 13 words:

↠ In a sort of pickle, Bad Wolf and all that. Fancy a cuppa?

And then, of course, she sent the instructions on how to create an artificial temporal feedback loop between the two TARDIS that her past self could follow. Of course, since this was herself that she was planning for, she knew damn well that he wouldn’t read the a word of them.

So hopefully that would mean that she would wind up inside his console, instead of it being the other way round. She didn’t have the time or energy to defend her stylistic choices to him.

The Doctor waited anxiously, pacing around the console like a nervous cat, like one sound would cause her to flee. She wasn’t even sure why she was nervous, she was only seeing herself, after all.

Which was exactly why she was nervous.

She considered bailing, finding another face of her to talk to instead. She was going to get distracted by Ten’s spikey hair, she could already tell.

No, that wasn't true.

She was scared, she felt like she was being selfish.

The thing was, Ten had loved someone too: Rose. She had been wonderful, utterly fantastic, and to this day the Doctor still loved her, in her own way. She loved Rose as an echo, a memory of what-ifs and could have beens.

The Doctor wasn't sure how it would feel to have a future version of herself tell her that she would one day love another, that it would be so tangible and close, after losing someone so awfully. She couldn't imagine that sort of pain.

Actually, she could imagine it, quite easily. It was dreadful.

She had experienced it once, with Rose.

And River.

And she wouldn’t ever, couldn’t ever, experience it with you.

The Doctor took in a deep breath. The message has already been sent, an invitation for just the two of them to talk. She couldn’t back out now.

She eyed her fez, sitting by the steps that lead up the TARDIS corridors. It was a split second decision, one second she was debating whether or not she should grab it, the next, it was on her head.

She felt more herself, more confident, wearing it.

Yeah, totally still her.

The first thing she noticed was the way her skin prickled, as if thousands of tiny needles were lightly poking her. Then the room around her went fuzzy, and the Doctor felt dizzy. In an instant, she was stumbling into a different TARDIS, with familiar brown poles, wires swinging freely in the air, and old grating under her feet.

Except… there weren’t any brown poles, or grating under her feet. The Doctor stared underneath her and oh no.

Something had gone very, very wrong.

For one thing, the most obvious thing, the thing she should have noticed immediately: she was standing on glass.

The Doctor looked around her, she was surrounded by orange chromed walls, golden metal plating, and round little lights sat into the sides. It was familiar, intimately and completely familiar, because this console room had once been hers.

But this wasn’t the console of her tenth face… this was-

“Who,” a familiar voice rang out. “Are you?”

The Doctor turned around slowly, and eyed her eleventh face carefully.

Gods, she had forgotten how big that chin was.

“So,” she said slowly. “I’ve got a bit of explaining to do.”

“A bit?” Eleven said. He said the next two words under his breath. “Bad Wolf,” he then turned to her. “I haven’t heard those words in a very long time.”

The Doctor took in her old self. He seemed tired, his clothes were a bit disorganised, with his shirt untuck and his suspenders hanging limp by his knees. His hair was a mess too, flopping over his face like he had just regenerated. He seemed stressed – scared, almost.

It was almost as if-

“Lake Silencio,” Thirteen breathed, the realisation hitting her with so much force she stumbled backwards slightly. “That’s about to happen, isn’t it?”

His eyes visibly widened – they were so expressive, these eyes. They were the only things that showed his age. “How do you-”

“I’m so sorry,” Thirteen said. “I wasn’t supposed to run into you, especially not now. I was trying to find sandshoes.”

“What? Sandshoes?” Eleven drummed his fingers against the console. “Spikey hair, big sad eyes?”

“Yup, the very same.”

“Why would you even want to talk to him, he,” Eleven straightened, and marched towards her. “No, wait, hold on. That’s distracting, you distracted me with information.”

Thirteen raised her hands up, placating. “I really am sorry-“

“Who are you?” Eleven repeated. “You can’t be me, I’m, I’m about to-”

“I am though,” Thirteen interrupted, and she scrunched up her face. She knew he didn’t want to finish saying that sentence as much as she didn’t want to hear it. “I’m you, a couple faces down the line.”

“You can’t be, you shouldn't exist," Eleven said, an edge of an accusation in his voice. “How do you exist?"

"Aww," Thirteen drew the sound out. "Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey, something to do with spoilers."

"Spoilers," Eleven let out a half laugh, a half scoff. "Now that's a word that's thrown around a fair bit." 

River.

The Doctor's hearts ached for her, they always would, in a way. A memory of so many chances, of sly smiles, and fleeting moments.

"Trust me though," she said. "I am you, we have a future."

Eleven’s mood changed almost instantly. “A future," he breathed, and he had a wistful smile on his face. "Well then, that's something. I hope it's a good one."

"I do my best."

"Right then," Eleven said, and he clapped his hands together. “What are you here for? What’s so urgent that my future self would come barrelling in like this? I did pop the kettle on.”

Thirteen grinned. “Peppermint tea?”

Eleven rummaged on the console for a moment, before throwing a small cardboard box in the air. He caught it one handed and turned to Thirteen with a wink. “Of course.”

He then jogged towards the kettle, not waiting for a reply. “I do love the fez by the way,” he called out. “It’s suit’s you! Let me know it was you, too. Well, that and the scan I did as you landed.”

Thirteen looked around frantically, scrunching her face up at the TARDIS interior. “Scans? When’d you do scans?”

“As you materialised,” he replied. “Set it up with Donna, remember?”

Thirteen racked her brain for the memory. That had been over a thousand years ago for her.

“Vaguely,” she replied, and hopped over to him.

“Ah, losing that memory with age then?” He eyes sparkled as he passed her a mug.

“Careful whippersnapper,” Thirteen teased. “I’ve got centuries on you.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Eleven replied. They move in sync, in a sort of tandem that only they two were familiar with. They were the same person, but also so starkly different.

“But what do you think?” She said, and she gestured to the fez, but really, she was talking about all of her. “Still me?”

Eleven eyed her up and down quizzically. “Most definitely,” he said. “An upgrade, I’d say.”

Thirteen grinned as they sat down. “Tell you what, buying women’s clothes, still not used to it.”

“Nah,” Eleven replied. “It’s been ages.”

They sat on the threshold of Eleven’s TARDIS, each with a mug of peppermint tea in hand, staring out at the Medusa Nebula. Thirteen was curled in on herself, one knee tucked into her frame and the other dangling freely. Eleven, however, sat openly, his legs swinging free.

She didn’t know how long they sat there in silence, just taking in the bright dust clouds dancing across the inky black universe.

“I’ve met someone,” Thirteen started, after another moment. “A human.”

“Well,” Eleven took a sip of his tea. “That is something we do.”

“No it’s,” Thirteen floundered for a moment, trying to find the words. “It’s different.”

“Define different.”

Thirteen struggled to find a way to describe it, to fully articulate what it was like, what her love for you was like. So, she told a story.

“Do you remember,” Thirteen said. “Gods, it was so long ago for me, but there was this way Amy once described Rory. How, sometimes you meet beautiful people, but they’re dull as a brick. But then you meet someone, and their personality just becomes synonymous with their beauty…”

“She said Rory was the most beautiful man she had ever met,” Eleven finished.

“Exactly, and, well… Y/P2 name is Y/N,” Thirteen said, and risked looking at her younger self.

She watched him blink as the realisation hit him. “Oh,” he said softly, and it was enough.

“Yeah,” Thirteen breathed out.

“So…” Eleven said. “Sandshoes.”

Thirteen chuckled at that, and took a sip of her tea. “Yeah.”

“He would’ve been a bit moody about it.”

Thirteen snorted, and Eleven laughed. “Oi, don’t judge it,” Thirteen said. “My friend picked him out, said he’s got ‘a knowing face,’ so I went with it.”

“He would’ve known how to cope with it,” Eleven said. “That’s for sure.”

“That’s what I need,” Thirteen said. “See, I know I love Y/P2, I keep it safe, hold it in my hearts. That’s not the part that worries me.”

“You just don’t know what to do with it,” Eleven surmised.

“Exactly,” Thirteen nodded. “So, you’re right, and so was Yaz. Ol’ cockatoo hair would’ve known.”

“And you got me instead,” Eleven said with a rueful grin.

“Yup,” Thirteen said. “So? Got any advice for me?”

“Not really,” Eleven replied. “But tell me about Y/N, maybe that would help?”

Thirteen smiled, staring out at the Medusa Nebula, and thought of you. “Well,” she started. “Y/N’s amazing, just so thoughtful, so selfless. I don’t even know if Y/P1 realises just how much she does for others, I think it’s just so innate and present within Y/P2 that for Y/N, it’s just a state of being.”

Eleven sounded out your name on his lips, enunciating it carefully, almost reverently. “It’s a nice name,” he said. “Straight out of a storybook.”

“It is,” Thirteen agreed. “And, okay, so, you know that energy humans have? That wonderful quality that just fills them with so much vibrancy, so much life?”

“Always,” he looked riveted, like he was hanging off of Thirteens every word.

“Well, Y/N just sort… encapsulates it. It’s like, there could be an entire solar system, an entire nebula,” she gestured to the view. “Right there, but the only thing worth looking at is Y/P2.”

“But everything,” Thirteen continued. “Absolutely everything to Y/P2, is so new and exciting. I could show Y/N the seven wonders of the universe, take Y/P2 to see the most dazzling sights in the next universe over, or just show Y/P2 some pink snow, and Y/P1 would find it all just as extraordinary as the next.”

Eleven’s mouth formed a small smile. He took a small sip of his tea. “That sounds… wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Thirteen said, and then, suddenly. “If you were me-”

“I am you,” Eleven said, giving her a wry grin.

“Yes, I know that, but me, me. As in, this face me. Would you pursue something with Y/P2, would you try?”

Eleven let out a heavy breath. Thirteen had no doubt as to what he was thinking about, who he was thinking about – she had lived it, after all. I would be different hearing it, though. “Yes,” he said, after a moment of thought. “I would, if I could. What you’ve said, it sounds like… well, it sounds like everything.”

Thirteen swallowed. It certainly felt like everything.

“The thing is though,” Eleven added. “Is it what you want, is it what Y/P1 wants?”

Thirteen scrunched her face up at that. “I don’t know.”

“Look” he said. “I know next to nothing about this sort of stuff, really, it was absurd you came to me-”

Thirteen snorted, again.

“-But the way I see it, the fact that you’re going around, asking people stuff, questioning this, seeking answers, that’s got to count for something. Loving a human… I can’t imagine anything better.”

“And when I lose Y/P2?” Thirteen challenged. “When Y/N is gone with everyone else, what do I do then?”

Eleven sighed. “What we always do, what we’ve always done. Keep moving forward.”

Thirteen huffed out a breath. “I don’t know if I can do that, again. I’ve lost so much, more than you could imagine-”

“Oh I’m sure I’d be able to, one day.”

“-Right,” Thirteen ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just exhausted though. I’m so sick of losing people, of losing everyone. You fix things, you move on, and then it just keeps happening,” she gave him a desperate look. “I’m not sure I could lose someone again, I’m not sure if I could lose Y/P2.”

“I suppose then, you’ve got to think of the alternatives,” Eleven replied. “What are you willing to do, what boundaries are you willing to set?”

Thirteen considered it for a moment. Then it hit her. “I don’t want to set boundaries. Well, Y/N can set boundaries of course, but me? I… I want whatever I can have…” she scrunched up her face. “I think”

“Do you always do that?” Eleven asked suddenly.

“Do what?”

He mimicked her expression, scrunching his face up. “This.”

Thirteen couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Y/N says I do, Y/P1 notices things, that one.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that, either,” Eleven said. “Face it, we’ve got a type.”

“Plucky adventurous willing to take on the universe?” Thirteen suggested.

“Exactly,” he sobered, after. “I can’t tell you what you should do. Even though I am you, I think that’s something only you, you can decide.”

Thirteen let out a half-hearted groan. “That’s what Vastra said.”

“Oh, Madame Vastra! How is she?”

“Not enjoying her meals as much as she was,” Thirteen commented idly. “She liked Y/N though.”

“Well that’s important, her approval is hard to come by.”

Thirteen thought about Clara, and Amy, and River, and all the people the Doctor had been close with whom Vastra approved of. “She does have excellent taste.”

“Wait,” Eleven said. “If Vastra told you the same thing, why’ve you come to me – or, well, why’d you go looking for sandshoes?”

Thirteen winced. “I may have… um, interpreted it literally.”

Eleven laughed. “I would’ve done the same.”

“You will,” she sighed. “I just… I feel so…” she groaned, not finding the words. She didn’t want to say inadequate, or wrong, because neither of those words fit.

Eleven, though, just nodded. “I know,” he said. “I feel it too.”

“I’m just worried that my own self-doubt, or, well, not even that, but, I just feel like it will stain my decision” Thirteen went to take another sip of her tea, and frowned when it came up empty. “I want to make sure, whatever I decide, I do it for the right reasons, I do it for Y/P2. Y/N’s the most important thing.”

“Well,” Eleven said, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t think any version of ourselves are the best person to talk to, then. We’ve all got that” he waved a hand in the air. “Sad self-doubt thing.”

The Doctor thought about you – you who was so bright, so good. She was scared of hurting you, she was scared of hurting herself, too.

And this was all under the presumption that she could woo you, too.

She groaned, again. This was all just so messy.

“Y/N,” Eleven said slowly, again. It was as if he was trying to fit your name in his mouth, hold it, like the act could help him remember it, help remember you.

Actually, no, it wasn’t ‘as if’ at all. Thirteen knew him, she had been him, she knew Eleven better than anyone.

And she knew, if she were in his position right now, she’d be doing the same.

“I’m sending invitation,” Eleven said, after a moment. “To the Ponds, to River, the people most important to me. I mean, I got the guest list because I’ve already seen it, bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, this-”

“Or a bootstrap paradox,” Thirteen supplied. “You’ve got questions like who made the list? Where did it come from?”

Eleven gave her a rueful grin. “Still obsessed with the ‘why’ I see.”

“When haven’t we been,” Thirteen countered with a soft grin.

“Although, and, I’m not sure how much of this you remember,” Eleven said. “The feeling of it, at least. When it hit me that this is what I had to do… I was grateful it was those three on the list. I think I need them there, I couldn’t go through with this alone.”

Thirteen nodded. She remembered, and she suspected she knew where he was going.

“So,” Eleven continued. “I guess what you need to think about is, if all of this,” he gestured around them both. “Was to end tomorrow, where would you want Y/N? Where would you need Y/P2?”

The question made Thirteen pause. She hadn’t ever considered that, not for a moment. She thought back to times when you had been missing, or lost, and how the only thought on her mind was how she needed you back, needed you here, by her side.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Eleven chuckled. “Yeah.”

It was an important thing to think about; boundaries. What was the Doctor willing to sacrifice? How far was she willing to go to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt, and that, in turn, you wouldn’t get hurt either.

“Right,” Thirteen stood up and brushed down her pants. “Thank you for this, I think I needed this.”

“The tea or the chat?”

Thirteen shrugged. “Both. I love a good tea, my friend’s mum makes the best tea.”

“I’m not going to remember this, am I,” Eleven said suddenly. “We’re too close to creating a paradox.”

“Part of the reason I chose this place,” Thirteen replied.

“Then…” Eleven scrunched up his suspenders in his hand, leaving his tea deserted as he stood. “The Ponds. How are they? Do… do they?”

Thirteen swallowed her sadness at the question, doing her best to give him an encouraging smile. “They live long, happy lives.”

He scrutinised her for a moment. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

The long happy lives starts in 1938.

She gave him a small, sad smile. “Spoilers.”

Eleven huffed. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

But he helped her get back to her TARDIS, and the familiar glow of the crystals warmed her hearts. She rolled her fez in between her hands, thinking about what her younger self had said, thinking about you.

What did the Doctor need? How was she supposed to work it out?

Eleven was right, it wasn’t something that any of her past selves could tell her. It was such an intimately, personal question. And not one with a clear answer.

She threw the thought in the back of her mind. She had all the time in the universe to work it out, hopefully. And rght now, she missed her fam, she missed you.

So she pressed the buttons she needed to press, pulled down the levers she needed to pull, spun her mini TARDIS that sat on the console, and flew home.

As she landed, The Doctor wondered how long her younger self would stay by the Medusa Cascade, holding the memory of their conversation, the knowledge that he would live, regenerate, and fall in love again.

If it were her (and it was, in a way), she would stay there for a long time, just thinking of you.

It was only a second or so after she had landed that there was a knock on the door. Surely it wasn’t Yaz, she couldn’t have realised that the Doctor had gone.

The Doctor swung the door open, completely unprepared for any sort of excuse to give Yaz.

Except, it wasn’t Yaz by the door… It was you.

You were giving her an amused grin, and the Doctor wanted to capture it, hold it and cherish it in that special place that held everything you gave her. Every smile, every laugh, all of it.

“Where did you get off to?” You asked.

“Oh, I just had to check out a thing, you know how it is,” she stepped to the side to allow you to come in.

“Not really,” you said. “I’m not the time travelling alien in suspenders.”

The Doctor almost snorted. Little did you know.

You were holding a bigger bag than normal. The Doctor wondered if that meant you were going to be staying longer. She hoped so. She watched your face fall into a confused frown. “What on Earth happened there?”

The Doctor followed your gaze, landing on the panel that the TARDIS had blown off in a petulant fit. Well – not a petulant fit, the Doctor would never let the TARDIS believe that’s what she thought. “Uh…” The Doctor tried to think of an excuse, any excuse. “Just some maintenance.”

“Right,” you drew out the word, clearly not believing her. “Oh!” You suddenly turned to her. “I forgot, Yaz’s mum has invited us to have tea with the family. Graham and Ryan too.”

Doctor grinned. Tea at Yaz’s. Tea with you at Yaz’s.

“Sounds brilliant.”

A/N^2: If you've made it this far, thank you for reading!! I'm having a lot of fun with this series/collection of standalone fics all set in the same universe with the same premise. On request I’ve started a tag list, so, if you'd like to join it, just let me know!

Tag List: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @dreamer7black

#the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor #Doctor Who #DW #as always this is not edited #it wouldn't be on brand if it was whoops

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Love Yet Known Part 2

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Thanks for the love for the first part! Heres for you, @97freaknik. Sorry the tagging system isn’t working.

And thank you to my permanent tag who have yet to block me despite my spamming of works.

The drive to London was almost absolutely silent. Neither Alfie nor Eliza really knew what to say to one another. It was as if they were just acting out something for the sake of Tommy. Neither of them exactly knew how they’d ended up in such a predicament.

Alfie’s mind was racing, wondering how stupid he was to agree to something like marrying a Shelby. He thought about the ramifications, was there even a rabbi who would consider converting her and allowing them to marry? What sort of effect would this have on his life in the long run?

He glanced to his left where Eliza had been sitting quietly since they’d left Warwickshire. Her eyes were locked on the window, never turning her head. He wondered if she was wishing she was on the outside, not in the car with him. Maybe she figured if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t have to think of the arrangement.

Alfie cleared his throat, the silence too uncomfortable for his liking. “Erm, you like dogs?” He asked.

She looked away from the window to show she had heard him. “Pardon?”

“Dogs? Do you like dogs? I have a dog.” He clarified. “He ain’t mean or anything. I bought him to be a guard dog but he had other plans. Too nice for his own good.”

A hint of a smile formed on her lips. The sense of humor didn’t exactly fit his image. But it did help her relax a little. “Yes, I like dogs.”

“Good. That’s good. I sorta have a nasty habit of picking up strays.” He admitted. “I don’t keep all of ‘em. There’s a charity that a dear friend of mine runs. They train dogs to help blind people. So, they take in most of the strays.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was strange. It was almost as if he was trying to list off his good traits so Eliza wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster. Maybe he could put her mind at ease. “But, Cyril I kept. Cyril’s me dog. I kept him, couldn’t give him away.” The silence on Eliza’s end was killing him. He wanted her to say exactly what she thought about him. Most people who worked for him kept their opinions to themselves. Most of his business partners/enemies were vocal about what they thought. But neither of those opinions mattered. Because none of those people were intending to marry him. If they were to marry, Alfie wanted to know Eliza’s opinion of him. Even if she said she hated him and wished him dead, at least he would know.

“He sounds lovely.” She said politely.

“Yeah…he is.” Alfie fiddled with one of his rings. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make this work. It gave him a headache thinking about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to Alfie’s relief, Eliza took immediately to Cyril. The bullmastiff seemed to enjoy a female presence in the flat. At least she didn’t feel completely alone in Camden Town. Alfie just felt a little guilty that her only companion was a slobbery, goofy dog.

Still, he capitalized on her affection for the mutt. He allowed her to take Cyril out for walks whenever she pleased and didn’t say anything when Cyril started to sleep in her bedroom.

�� Meanwhile, Alfie was trying to figure out the complicated matters of converting Eliza so they could get married. Tommy continued to call to push the matter. It was clear over the phone that he was desperate to make the union complete. The Italians would be closing in at any time and Tommy didn’t need another threat from Camden Town to weigh on him.

“Y’know, I know you’re godless, Tommy. I understand that, but us godly men have rules and those rules simply cannot be tampered with. Centuries of laws, mate, can’t be overturned ‘cause you find it inconvenient.” Alfie said over the phone.

“I gave you money to ensure it.”

“Right, well some rabbis take bribes as an insult, mate.”

“Alfie, if you’re holding out on me…” Tommy warned.

“She’s been living with me for nearly a month, Thomas, if I really wanted to back out, I would’ve sent her home to you.” He cut the man off.

Tommy muttered something over the line but Alfie couldn’t hear what it was.

“There’s a rabbi that Ollie found that might go through with the conversion and marriage,” Alfie said. “When I hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

The Blinder seemed to have his worries put to rest at least for the time being. “And how is she doing there?”

“Well, her best friend is me dog,” Alfie replied honestly. “She hardly speaks to me, not that I blame her much.”

“She’s always been quiet,” Tommy assured him.

“Well, circumstances ‘n such.” Alfie sighed and cracked his knuckles. “Anyways, I’ll let you know, Tom. I’ll let you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

One night a couple of days later, Alfie and Eliza were sat down together for dinner. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve found rabbis who are willing to convert you.” He brought up the topic.

“Oh. Okay.” She nodded.

Alfie had learned over the few weeks together that she was a difficult person to read. She was a lot like Tommy, and less like her other brothers who were prone to showing their emotions on the outside. She always spoke to him in a calm, steady, and polite manner. Almost as if she were afraid of setting him off, or it was simply just her demeanor. Alfie would’ve preferred if she were a bit more like Arthur, as terrible as that would be. At least he would know what she was thinking instead of having to guess.

“Didya…well…have ya put any thought into it? I mean, ain’t a small decision.”

Eliza shrugged as she pushed her food around the plate with her fork. “I haven’t put much thought into religion.” She admitted. “Polly was the only one who took Christianity seriously in our family.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Still, being Jewish is more a way of life, innit?”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” Alfie had arranged for Ollie’s wife to give some insight to Eliza into what it meant to be a Jewish wife. He assumed they’d bonded, but Eliza didn’t say much about it. Though, she did frequently visit Ruth and her and Ollie’s pack of kids. She never said what they spoke about.

“Right. Well, just wanted to know what your thoughts about it were.” He posed the question again, hoping to get a little further into her mindset.

“Ruth said if we were going to have children, they needed to be brought up fully Jewish. Or at least, that’s what she thought your intentions were.”

Alfie cleared his throat. How could they discuss children? Of course, it was a factor but a child wouldn’t just magically appear once they were married. And they hadn’t even touched each other aside from the mistaken brush of an arm. “Well, right.” He tilted his head to the side, hoping suddenly for an interruption so he could leave the conversation.

“Alfie?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was the first time she had addressed him by name. The way she spoke his name was so soft. Like nothing, he’d heard before. “Hm?” He couldn’t exactly speak properly.

“Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Afraid? Well, I’d hope not. I told your brothers that I ain’t here to hurt you.”

“Then why do you walk on eggshells around me?”

Alfie opened his mouth but only let out a small, confused grumble. It must’ve been that Shelby wit that had gotten them there. She was so good at concealing her feelings that Alfie looked like a fool. Dancing around the topic, trying to please her, giving her everything she wanted. God, he must’ve looked like a sap.

She smiled slightly. “I didn’t expect you to try to impress me so much. The way my brothers spoke of you, I was expecting something else entirely.”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s a difference, yeah, ‘tween business and me personal life. What your brothers see ain’t what you’ll see.” He tried to explain.

It was different from her family’s mentality, or Tommy’s to be more specific. In the Shelby family, everyone dealt with family business. There were no exceptions unless you absconded. Even then, it was tricky to escape business. But it appeared Alfie was keener to keep his two lives separate. Eliza considered how this difference might benefit her.

“All the day’s shit, yeah, it gets left at the fucking door.” He pointed down the hall toward the front door. “This is sorta a sanctuary, innit?”

Eliza nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“Nice, yeah it is nice.” He agreed.

They were quiet for a moment, neither of them really wanted to return to the conversation topic of children. It seemed too fresh.

“Ruth is trying to teach me how to cook kosher.” She spoke up after a bit. It was the first time she offered any information without Alfie prompting her. Maybe because now she felt the flat was a safe place for her. “Just, I dunno if you were wondering why I’m there for so long.”

Alfie shrugged. “I’m glad you two have gotten along. Didn’t want you to feel lonely here.” He admitted and went back to eating before his dinner went cold.

Eliza watched him for a split second. So, he cared about how she felt? Imagine that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took quite a bit of convincing to get the rabbis to convert Eliza. Wrestling with tradition, Alfie knew he was asking for a lot. But the conversion went through and under Jewish law, he was allowed to marry her. Not that he was looking for some massive wedding. It would be best to call the least amount of attention to himself as possible. The Camden community might not take kindly to his bride-to-be if they found out she was a convert. And if they found out she was a Shelby? Well, granted, Alfie was scary enough to thwart off criticism. But he didn’t want the rumors to get around to Eliza. He didn’t want her to feel unwelcome.

In reality, Alfie felt as though he was going mad. Since when had he given two shits about someone’s comfort? His job was basically to make people feel uncomfortable so they’d be more willing to listen. But apparently, Eliza had made quite an impact on him.

She fit in very nicely in his flat. Never made a fuss or anything. That wasn’t to say she was like a little dormouse. She wasn’t very tidy. Alfie chalked this up to her growing up with five siblings. He didn’t particularly mind, though. It was nice to see the flat actually lived in. For so long it had been just a place to sleep. But Alfie realized he had grown fond of coming home late from work and finding traces of Eliza throughout the house.

A dirty pan in the sink, her book on the sofa, a couple of hairpins on the coffee table, and the stray teacup with cold tea that had been forgotten about.

For a brief moment, as he cleaned up, he wondered if their children would be just as messy. Alfie could imagine coming home to the floor littered with toys. It brought a smile to his face.

Of course, children was still a conversation they had to have. Alfie loathed the fact that they had to get over that little mountain of a decision. He wouldn’t dare force anything onto her. Purely by his own standards and morals. Plus, the added benefit of getting a bullet in his head courtesy of the Shelby boys.

So, he waited and hoped that was something they could get to. Because, despite their relationship still being merely two people who lived together, he did like her. More so, even.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding, although very traditional in the ritual sense, was very small. Only a few people very close to Alfie attended if only to witness the union. There wasn’t a reception or party to follow. No grand affair.

They simply walked out of the building as man and wife.

“Alfie, can I ask you something?”

“’Course.” It was a bit strange. Eliza was standing in the foyer as he went to go feed Cyril. Standing in her wedding dress, she looked a bit out of place.

“I know what is…expected of us tonight.” She wrung her hands together. “But I don’t think I’m quite ready. I’m sorry I just…”

Alfie felt oddly relieved. He was hoping she would say something, otherwise, he’d feel like a monster if she went through with consummating the marriage and she wasn’t ready. “No reason to apologize, love.” He walked back out of the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. “Ain’t any rush.”

“I appreciate that.” She said softly. “Thank you.”

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ve got to work early.”

“I’ll make breakfast.” She offered.

“Nah, that’s alright. You don’t need to get up so early.”

“I don’t mind…”

“S’alright, love.” He gave her a warm smile and held out an arm, allowing her to go upstairs first.

Eliza smiled back, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. She went upstairs, allowing Cyril to trot by her.

“I had a few things shipped in from Paris. Sorta wedding gift, if you will. I hope you don’t mind, I asked Ruth if she could help me.” Alfie said as he climbed the stairs behind her. “I left it on your bed.”

“Oh, Alfie, you didn’t need to-”

“S’alright.” He assured her, meeting her at the top of the stairs. “You Shelbys like nice things, aye?”

She shrugged. “I’m a Solomons now.” She pointed out.

He let out a brief chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true. F’ya want, we can get a nice box for your dress. Maybe to store it? I dunno, me mum did the same thing. I still have her dress, fuck if I know what I’m gonna do with it. But she-well it were the only thing she brought from Russia.”

“I understand, it’s important to you.” Eliza agreed.

Alfie rubbed a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Well, I won’t keep you up.”

“Goodnight, Alfie.” She smiled at him before going down the hall to her room. Like he said, there was a large box on her bed. After shutting the door, Eliza opened the top and found an array of beautiful pieces of clothing that must’ve cost a fortune. Beaded gowns, satin gloves, a fur-lined coat, and much more. Eliza carefully unpacked everything, folding the items or hanging them up in the closet. Then she landed on a pair of silk pajamas that looked like what picture stars wore. A gorgeous burgundy color with embroidered designs on the cuffs of the shirt and pants.

She smiled and felt her heart skip a beat. It had been a little unnerving knowing that she would become a Jewish wife. There were a lot of changes she had to make, moving to Camden, marrying Alfie, and trying to keep her end of the bargain by converting. But in the end, she was still married to a gangster. One who, although he looked simply, did like luxury items. And maybe it was how he was trying to show his affection for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Married life wasn’t all that different for Alfie. He continued to work the same tireless hours and continued to keep up his agenda of legal and illegal operations. Mostly illegal.

What changed was coming home to a gentle person who had a good skill of keeping the flat calm. Alfie assumed that like the other Shelbys, Eliza would manage to only raise his blood pressure. But she had the opposite effect.

She had become more of an open book with him, which led Alfie to believe they were moving in the right direction. She told him more about what she did during the day. Mainly, she spent her time with Ruth and some of the other women in the neighborhood.

It was nice to hear things that weren’t related to business. Alfie’s entire life was business. Now he had someone else to occupy his thoughts.

As the weeks wore on, both Eliza and Alfie began talking on a more intimate level. Soon she found she was telling him things not even her siblings knew. Things that were very personal to her.

She also began to notice Alfie stealing a few looks her way. Meanwhile, she found herself looking forward to seeing him every day and often was disappointed if he worked late and she fell asleep before he came home. Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her or called her pet names. She figured it was just instinct, something he did to everyone. But it felt special to her.

Eliza realized, when winter came, that there was no reason for her sheepishness. They were married, after all. If she wanted to further their relationship, all she had to do was ask.

So, she did. One night, Alfie came home late from work. He picked at some leftovers waiting for him, before heading upstairs. His hip was bothering him as the days got colder, so he wasn’t in a grand mood. When he reached the second floor, the door to Eliza’s room opened.

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, I was waiting for you to get home.” She lingered in the doorway for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, I would’ve kept you company while you ate.”

“S’alright, didn’t eat much.” He shrugged. “There something you needed?”

“Well, yes.” She walked into the hallway. It felt a little silly asking her husband what she was going to ask. So, Eliza gained some of that Shelby confidence and looked him in the eye. “Will you kiss me?”

It certainly wasn’t what Alfie expected. He thought maybe she wanted to use the car or needed some spending cash. So, he felt a little bad that he was silent for so long, but he didn’t know what to say. “Erm, I didn’t-well-”

Eliza began to clam up, fearing she had overstepped a line. Maybe it was all in her head and Alfie didn’t really like her all that much. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve asked…”

Alfie caught her hand before she could scurry back to her room. He drew her closer and his other hand cupped her cheek. His eyes searched her face before he kissed her, trying to get a mental image of her locked in his head. The tiny bit of freckles on her face, the wintery blue eyes looking up, yearning, and the way her lips parted slightly. He would catalog the little bits of information away because he couldn’t imagine how this would last long. Nothing good in life ever lasted long and Eliza was one of the best damn things that ever happened to him.

That night, Eliza slept in Alfie’s room for the first time. It was how she came to the realization that her husband was just a big bear. Grumpy, stubborn, yet he cared for his own. Eliza liked that. She had grown up around bristly love. Polly marched them to mass every Sunday no matter how much they complained because she wanted to ‘save their souls’. Arthur would gladly murder any boy who gave her even the slightest of looks. Tommy was stern but she found out later it was because they had no father figure so he had to take on the role. And John? Well, John pretended to hate his twin sister. He wanted to appear tough in front of his friends and teased her at school. But every night, when there was no available light to read, he conjured up a story for her.

Other people may not have understood, but Eliza knew that real relationships couldn’t be found in the pages of her books. She liked Alfie because he was real. The most real thing she’d ever known.

After that night, their relationship bloomed much faster. They found married life soothing when others found it stressful. They enjoyed each other’s company so much that Alfie started to cut back on late nights at the bakery. It meant more to Eliza than he might have realized.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the situation with the Italians got more intense, Alfie started to realize how much their relationship had grown. He found himself contacting Tommy more often, demanding information about what Luca Changretta was doing. He wanted to ensure there would be no threat to his London empire and there would be no threat to his wife.

His anxiety about everything reached a boiling point when Eliza disappeared one morning. Had he looked in his study, he would’ve seen the note she left for him saying that she was taking the car to visit her family in Small Heath.

But he didn’t. So, he naturally assumed something bad happened and rallied a search team. He was at his wit's end, practically tearing his hair out.

When Eliza arrived home, unharmed and acting normally, he lost his cool.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He demanded when she walked through the door as if nothing had happened.

Eliza looked taken aback. He’d never taken such a harsh tone with her. “Pardon?”

“I’ve half me men out looking for you, you think it’s alright to just disappear like that?”

“Alfie, I left you a fucking note on your desk.” She snapped, not happy he was talking to her in such a way. He usually was very respectful.

He looked a bit hesitant, maybe he had neglected to see the note. But he was still too upset to admit he was in the wrong. “You could’ve told me, aye? Where were you?”

“What does it matter?” She asked defensively, trying to pass by him in the hallway.

“Because there’s a man out there who wants to wipe out your entire family, Liz!” He snapped, standing in her way so she couldn’t shrug off his concern.

“You don’t think I know that?”

“You have no idea where he could be or what he could’ve done to you!”

“I was in Small Heath, I was perfectly okay.” She retorted. “I have the right to go where I please.”

“Small Heath?” Alfie looked at her in disbelief. To think she could go that far and think she would be fine on her own. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Do not take that tone with me!” She held strong against him. “If I want to see my family, I can. You can’t keep me locked up in Camden.”

“That ain’t…” He let out a frustrated noise. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel trapped. “I don’t understand why you just up and left. What did you need to do there?”

“That’s my business.”

“Liz-”

“You don’t control me, Alfie.”

“I know!” He shouted. “You don’t think I know that? But I care too much about you to let you be killed because of what your fucking brother has gotten your family into!”

Eliza’s lower lip wobbled and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I went because I was late. My aunt confirmed it, I’m pregnant.”

Alfie was knocked right in the gut by the news. What he thought would never happen was now a reality. “Liz…”

“Just fuck off.” She spat and turned to head upstairs. But she paused halfway. “I was so excited to tell you and this is how I’m treated? You can sleep on the couch.” She stomped upstairs and slammed the door shut before locking it.

Alfie felt like an absolute imbecile. He was notorious for letting his temper get the better of him. But he was proud of himself for never letting Eliza see that side of him. Now he had mucked up what they’d been building for months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eliza didn’t come down for dinner or breakfast the next day. Alfie decided to try and speak with her before he went to the bakery for the day.

His first knock was met with silence.

“Eliza, please, just let me apologize.” He said as he knocked again.

“Go to hell, Alfie.” She finally replied.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Love, I’m tryna apologize, here!” He exclaimed. “What else do you want me to do?”

There was another bout of silence before the door swung open. “You think an apology is some grandiose gesture?” She demanded. “Alfie, I’ve walked across hot coals for you and you don’t even realize.”

“M’tryna…I don’t know what you want me to say.” He grimaced, realizing how shit he was at relationships sometimes.

“I went to Small Heath and you know what Ada said to me? She asked me about my headscarf. She said it was oppressive and I never should’ve converted for you. She said you would never be able to do anything that comes close to what I’ve done for you. Do you want to know what I said?”

Alfie nodded.

“I said she was wrong. I told her that you treated me right. You respected me. You were there for me and appreciated the person I was. I converted for you, I married you, and now I’m going to give you a child. So, don’t act like you have this authority over me when I’ve done so much for you.”

He sighed. “You’re right, love. It were wrong for me to treat you like that.” He acknowledged in a rare event of humility. “But me worst fear is losing you. ‘Cause you’re the only thing on this Earth that means a damn to me. If I lost you if that fucker killed you? I’d never forgive myself. I would spend the rest of me days mourning.”

Eliza’s tense stance relaxed a bit when she heard the genuine concern in his voice. His anger was out of fear. She knew men like Alfie had a hard time addressing their fears because they weren’t meant to be scared of anything. Her voice softened. “I’m not going anywhere.” She promised. “You have me until the end of time.”

“And you have me.”

She smiled and stepped into his arms so he could hold her close. “That’s good to know.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

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tsuumu · 4 years

Text

good intentions.

kuroo x reader

your long-term boyfriend is perfect. i mean perfect. he excels at basically everything he does. well, except one thing. at least he has good intentions, right?

based off of a request found here.

word count:

tags/tw: y/n & kuroo are uni students, lots of playful insulting, kuroo is perfect, well not really, y/n is a mess, y/n is me doing any kind of work, domestic x1000, kuroo cooking is so cute.

You know those people who just seem to have it all?

No, not literally, but it’s so sickeningly easy for them that they might as well be arms reach of anything they want.

Usually we tend to dislike people like that, mainly because... well, we’re not them (much to our abysmal dismay, too). They end up taking a spotlight of jealousy in our lives and we find ourselves constantly thinking: Man, i’d love to kick their asses, but would alternatively jump at the oppertunity to switch lives with them ‘Freaky Friday’ style.

These people are the embodiment of admiration.

Young. Good looking. Fit. Successful. Socially conscious. Killer smiles. Can always hold a drink. Never seem to embarrass themselves even a little, but on the off chance they do, everyone adores them more and sees it as a cute little incident or quirk of theirs.

Just thinking about it makes you want to build yourself a bunker, deep underground, just to sulk in for a decade or so, lamenting angrily at the dusty walls.

Yes. You know the truth is that there will always be someone better than you at simply existing, but that doesn’t stop that simmering of content from rising within. Realistically speaking, you’d avoid these people like your life depended on it because they’re so... detestable.

So who would have known that you —of all people— would end up falling in love with one?

Well, you did. As much as they repel you, you find that they weirdly attract you too.

That’s right.

The man who stole that pretty little heart of yours, who’d caught your attention indefinitely with his cut-throat prowess and charisma. He’d approached you one fine evening at some bar you’d never been to before, ordered you your favorite drink because he’d seen you order it twofold previously (vodka cranberry, heavy on the juice) and chatted you up the way you’d always wished a guy would.

The appalling epitome of cliche.

The whole encounter practically ran like he’d planned it before-hand. It’s almost infuriating, how easily he swept you off of those tipsy feet of yours.

Something bumps lightly over your head as a shadowy figure passes by. You groan lightly in response.

“Hey, cut it out!”

Somehow, you’ve found yourself on the floor, crossed-legged, pen in your mouth and both your hands. One is furiously scrawling something down, the other flicking the cap off to highlight. It’s an understatement to note that you look like a bit of a mess, brows scruched up in an untidy pile in the middle of your forehead, dead-focused on the first draft of your thesis that was due weeks ago.

Yeah, you were one of those people.

A mocking string of apologetic noises come from the figure in front of you as he chucks his keys onto the kitchen counter.

Kuroo Tetsurou. That’s your A-list Boyfriend.

A-list of what? Of life, for god’s sake.

If it were him that’d been assigned a task with this ridiculous deadline, he’d probably have handed it before it was fucking given to him in the first place! Not only is he academically adept to the point of pure indignancy (on your part, of course, you’re too prone to jealousy for your own good), but his organisation is nothing short of freakishly unnatural.

He says he’s minimalistic, you say he’s an alien.

If someone had told you that the man you loved was actually some kind of secret government- made equipment to survey you, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid. He’s that good.

He chuckles at his own jeers, slipping a hand through the fridge handle. It unlatches with ease and he takes a cold can of beer out, pulling the tab back and allowing it to hiss open satisfyingly. Your eyes flicker upwards, gnawing at your knuckle, you’re not only stressed out, but unbelievably embarrassed that you’re at it again. He’s seen you like this countless times, after promising to clean up your act and follow in his footsteps.

Following in his footsteps. Well, that’s how he described it. You were close to socking his arm.

“Shut up.”

Tetsurou tilts his head back, drinking to his heart’s content before catching your eye. You’re correct. He has seen this before, so he knows not to take your off-handed comments to heart. Instead, he’s rather bemused.

“Your scruched up nose.” He begins, setting the can down to the side, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s your classic concentrating face.”

You’re not even listening if you’re honest. You’re trying to understand what this section of the task even means after re-reading it for the fifteeth time. The responses you give are made absently.

“Hm.”

“You look like a cat that’s been forced to wait to eat. That little glare. It’s cute, kitty.”

Your head jerks up questioningly. Did he call you cute?

His head tilts.

“Oh, you’ve relaxed your face now. It’s gone back to being ugly.”

You scowl and throw the highlighting pen at him.

“Go away! I’m almost done!”

Your fingers move to your lower back, pressing on your spine in hopes it’ll crack and relieve some of the tension in your body. Kuroo retrieves the pen, sweeping the can up with his spare hand. He plods over, craning his neck down to study whatever it is that you have on your lap.

“It’s too dark in here to see that properly.”

“I’m fine!”

“Well—“ He leans back to switch the overhead lights on. “—now you’re finer.”

You turn to him, pausing for a moment.

“Oh, thanks.”

It’s like you fall into this crazed state when you’re overworked. Frantic. Snappy. Cowering in the dark like some sort of parody Dracula— that is, if Dracula were three weeks late on his university assignment worth a disgustingly high percentage of his final grading. If Kuroo came too close, or said something a little too sly, you’d probably bite him. He knows this too, opting to keep quiet from now on. Instead, he sits leisurely on the floor, just behind you, placing his hands against your propped up body and gently pressing his thumbs into the blades of your back.

“Drop it a sec, yeah?”

Your body’s stiff, but you can tell he’s shocked at just how stiff it is. For a moment, you’re caught off guard, before rolling your shoulders back forcefully.

“Can’t... gotta finish—“ and you gesture wildly at everything around you. That answer was to be expected. You weren’t as academically driven, sure, but you weren’t one to give in easily. Or fail, for that matter.

Tetsurou plants a gentle kiss onto the nape of your neck, mumbling into the ridge of your spine.

“That—“ he copies your movements. “Can wait. I know you think it can’t, but it can. And you’re going to stop now.”

Your eyes lower a little, vision blurring.

“But—“

“Nope.”

You twist yourself to look at him, giving him another sour look.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” It rolls off the tongue so easily for him. He’s utterly calm. But then again, he’s not the one that needs to be on bloody ‘X-Games’ mode.

He’s never the one. Damn it.

You lift yourself up a little by placing your palms under you, wincing at the twinges of pain it induces. You’d made friends with the floor for a little too long, butt totally numb.

“Fine.” You resign, suddenly falling back onto him. “I’ll email my professor for the tenth time this week and wait as he rips me apart. Shall I?” Kuroo tuts, snaking an arm around your upper-body, the other brushing at your baby-hairs so he’s able to see your face a little clearer.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh— yes he would. Would you like front row seats to my untimely demise?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

For the first time through that entire day, you smile, even if it’s just a little. And to him, he’s managed to fish you out of that downward spiral you’ve been plunging into. Job well done on his part. He softly runs a his palm down your side.

“Your professor covers mine when she’s busy.” He states matter-of-factly. “Let me email him. It’s not ludicrous to say that i’m your boyfriend and you’re a little troubled at the moment.”

You’re slumped over, at the moment, chin buried into your chest.

“Troubled sounds like i’ve lost my mind.”

“Well not like that—“ The eager boy begins sifting out your laptop from under the seemingly endless piles of paper. “Let’s think of a better excuse.” Your body doesn’t move an inch, fiddling with the cap of the pen lid. You throw it by accident and it bounces too far to reach comfortably. Shit.

“Mmm.” He buries his nose into the crown of your head. “Shall I tell him you got into a car accident?”

“What? Tetsu, that’s stupidly unbelievable. I don’t even drive.”

“I guess... maybe not a car.” His fingers teasingly splay over your stomach, body bent intrusively over yours. They move against the softness of your flesh, dipping down slightly.

You suck in a breath.

“I’m sure I can do something for you that’ll keep you from walking for quite some time.” Tetsurou hums deeply, and it feels like he’s talking directly into your brain.

Your fingers fumble for the pen he just gave back, before hitting him square on the forehead with it. It ricochets back perfectly onto your chest with a loud snap.

“Ow!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Geez.”

“I don’t need excuses. I’ll just come back to it later.”

“Oh— yeah. That too.”

With a heave, you sit up, rubbing the side of your head as the blood rushes back.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You’d been so distracted with this work that even simple, human needs took a backseat.

This is why Kuroo doesn’t like it. At times like this, you’d barely eat, sleep, breathe. Seriously. Sometimes you’d hold your breath for absurdly long periods of time whilst reading, only to hack and gasp and apologise because you were so into it.

That’s... extreme. And he does not approve in the slightest.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm...” Your eyes sparkle hopefully. “Did you get me something to eat?”

Tetsurou scratches his neck timidly.

“Well, not exactly.”

Immediately, your face drops and he protests wildly.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

Well— well— you couldn’t help but be disappointed! You were starving and tired and ready to email your professor a string of rather unpleasant curse words instead of another half-assed excuse. Your fingernails had been worn down considerably from all the abrasive biting you’d done, aching and red.

Being a full-time student was covert self-destruction. You heavily relied on your boyfriend to bring in food because you didn’t have the time to do so yourself. This had been discussed and agreed upon prior though, since along with Tetsu’s many formidable talents, a balanced work to school life was yet another.

He ambles back to the kitchen area, gesturing to the island smack bang in the middle.

“That doesn’t mean I came empty-handed.”

Oh. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he’d come home with groceries. Um. Groceries?

“What’s that?”

“Stuff I picked up on the way back.”

“Like, ingredients?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment, and you’re eyeing the bag like it’s appeared out of nowhere with something potentially life-threatening inside it. Yes, that sounds stupid. But the truth is... you guys never really got groceries. Not actual groceries with actual ingredients. Because that is a strong indicator that they’d have to be cooked.

And god, neither of you knew how to do that.

You’re a student who’s barely stepped into adulthood, not Gordan Ramsay.

Okay. You sound ridiculous. Cooking isn’t that complex. It’s actually quite simple if your heart’s in it.

“I figured i’d be able to do something with these.” Kuroo pats the bags and they crinkle a tad.

Of fucking course he’d ‘be able to do something’ with them.

He’s Kuroo-Genius-Tetsurou!

CEO of doing things with other things and it actually working out. Building cabinates, lock-picking, gardening, guitar, skateboarding, poker. Since you’ve been together, these are a few of the varation of things he’s naturally picked up.

You? You’re a more do-it-once-it-fails-and-never-do-it-again type.

In your mind there’s literally no doubt he’d ace cooking and list it under the other fifty(billion) things he’s also capable of, just so he can mention it off-handedly to other people at parties or something.

If there’s something to criticise about your boyfriend, he’s awful at shutting up about himself. He’ll go on forever, as if he’s showcasing his entire life to strangers in some desperate attempt to sell them his excessive excellence.

Is he arrogant? Maybe. But is he able to do it in a manner that’s utterly bewitching? Absolutely. He’s not gloating, you see, he’s ‘modestly sharing’. And you find yourself wanting to praise him, you want to hear about how much better he is than you.

Let’s be honest. Kuroo and modesty were not made to be placed in the same sentence, any humble talk of his is utter bullshit.

But everyone loves it all the same.

That’s what you mean about perfect people. They spark something in others. It’s almost hypnotic. And when you snap out of it, it’s like it’s been confirmed that you’re undoubtedly inferior. Post-Kuroo-Encounter depression. PKE. You having a devastating case of it.

Maybe you have a bit of a complex about this. Ugh.

He’s lucky he’s so damn loveable.

And that you’re so damn hungry.

“Okay.” You state.

Plus, you are a little curious to see what exactly will unfold with his newfound persuit in the culinary arts.

You haul ass to get up, audibly cursing, hopping around from foot to foot to get your blood-flow back in action. Eventually, you’ve nestled yourself onto a stool, hands propping your chin up, observing expectantly.

“What are you making, chef?”

“Uhh..” He’s rolling his sleeves up, eyes glued to the screen of his phone that’s placed facing upwards. “Chicken Alfredo.” Tetsu sounds a little uncertain but you’re staring into his head and you can almost hear the cogs turning. Really, it’s only a matter of time until the bastard works his Area 51-esque magic and concocts the dish.

He takes a little more time to familiarise himself with the recipe, before looking up, giving you a wicked grin.

“I’ve got this.”

You’re sure he does, smiling back.

Whilst he’s preparing god knows what, you peek into the grocery bag to see if there’s anything you can nibble on. You recieve another gentle smack to your head. Tetsu’s holding a packet of dry pasta.

He’s hit you with pasta.

“Nu-uh. I didn’t bring any kitty treats for you, be patient.”

“Stop hitting me like i’m a fly, or a cat!”

“Don’t be silly. I’d never hit a cat! They’re precious, adorable, i’d protect one with my life. And you—“ He hits you again. “—well, you’re you, baby.”

You snatch the packet forcefully and lob it at him again.

“You have a death wish, Kuroo-san.”

“Eesh. The formalities! I’m kidding!”

You cradle your cheek in your palm, sighing tiredly. The two of you usually ordered in, or got something you’d be able to set up pretty easily. Neither of you were particularly passionate about cooking, hence its absence in your routines. Yes, it’s excessively healthier than your current lifestyle, but you weren’t suffering. And even now, watching Tetsurou fill a pan with water, muscles firm against the shy of his shirt. You know he isn’t either.

Now that you’re looking, and looking some more, it’s pretty hot, seeing a guy cook.

“You know, you should make breakfast shirtless so I can tell my friends my hot boyfriend cooks me breakfast shirtless.”

He laughs.

“You’d enjoy that too much.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes. I can’t keep indulging you.”

He means that your desire for immediate gratification is your biggest weak-point. Kuroo’s recently been trying to teach you the art of patience. Abstinence. You don’t get it. Apparently perfect people believe in ‘self-control’ crap.

“Also, oil.” He adds.

“Oh, I suppose it’d hurt, right?”

“Mhm.”

Your boyfriend alternates from his phone to the actual practice in short cycles. To you, he looks like he’s on track, though you’re not quite sure what to be looking for in the first place. These things usually came ready and steaming on plates in restaurants. Even now, having to wait, it’s so difficult. But you’re enjoying the light conversation it brings, so it’s whatever.

Though, that lasting etch of confusion and concern on the boy’s face leaves you wondering if actually, this is proving slightly difficult for him.

“Is everything okay?” You pipe up.

He doesn’t answer at first.

“Think so.”

“Oh— i’ve never heard that from you before.” It’s usually straight confidence from this man.

“Shut up.”

From the stool, you slip, dragging your hand over the counter as you walk around to see it up close. You don’t really know what you’re expecting, but... it’s not this.

“Tetsu, that’s boiling a little violently, don’t you think?”

“...No?”

“Yeah. It is. That’s not a good sign.”

He bats you away.

“We can’t both stand here!”

“Why not?”

“Spaaace.” He whines. “And if we both stay crowded around it’ll—“

And it happens, exactly what you’d predicted.

You, of all people, had made an assumption your boyfriend hadn’t. Ain’t that crazy? The water rises up too high, boiling over and spilling absolutely everywhere. The gas flame heightens all of a sudden, curling up next to the fabric of a dish towel next to it. In a panic, you pull him back.

“What the fuck—“

There’s no time for you to think, your hands fumbling to close the stove, you hadn’t realised the water had seeped over it, causing you to cry out in pain in the process, hand burnt silly.

But you do it. Quickly too. And Kuroo’s utterly dazed, like he hadn’t even thought to react. Your immediate response post-injury is to suck on the wound, trying to suppress the pain with the soothing movements of your tongue. That doesn’t do much, so you flap it about like a mad man, that only instigates more irritation.

Tetsu snaps out of it when he hears your hissing, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you to the sink forcefully, apologising profusely as he does.

Cold water hits you. It’s instant relief.

“God— i’m so sorry, (y/n)—“ He stumbles, still panicking, he seems to be experiencing everything five minutes too late. “I don’t know why that happened, I swear to God i’ve done that before but it just—“

You let out a giggle, and it shuts him up.

Another one slips. It gets louder and louder, harder to suppress until you’re full on belly laughing, hunched over. He stares at you, wordlessly surprised.

“T-Tetsu— you burnt water—“ You try and stifle your laugh but it only shakes your body more. His deep shame morphs into relief when he sees you’re okay. Tearfully making fun of him, but okay. He pulls you into a tight embrace, ignoring your remarks and still feeling unbelievably guilty.

It’s okay. You’re still chortling, holding him just as tight.

“Here, let me— let me bandage this.” In a cupboard somewhere, he pulls out a small wrap of fabric, proceeding to do just that. You watch happily enough, before turning to the boiled water that had completely stilled.

“Thanks. Let me do this.”

With considerable time and effort, you’re able to clean up the haphazard mess and start afresh, filling his place. Yeah, Kuroo is pretty humiliated, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the time than anything else. Seeing you unwavered was enough to make him feel like things were good.

It’s a miracle really, that you do end up filling two plates with delicious smelling pasta.

That lingering look of sorrow is still plastered all over the poor boy’s features, watching you with wide eyes.

“How did you manage that?”

You just shrug, licking a smidge of sauce off of your thumb.

“Dunno. Guess I have potential.” Your gaze moves up to his, pinching his cheek and blubbering jokingly. “Baby. What’s with the long face?”

“Feel bad.” Tetsu looks so glum. It’s adorable.

“Hm.”

The scrape of the plate against the counter is clear as bells as you urge him to eat.

“I should thank you, dumbass.” Admiring the bandage work, a grin settls upon you. This ordeal helps you to see that, actually, Tetsu wasn’t good at everything. In fact, for once, you were better.

And God. That’s— that’s different. You don’t want to be as cocky as him, but it feels nice for a change. He admires you.

“Got an excuse for that late assignment now.” You muse.

“Oh my god.”

You’re always going to be a handful.

“Ugh. Tetsu. Something good always come out of your actions. It’s sickening!”

“I hurt you, silly!”

“I’m feelin’ pretty good about it, regardless. Plus—“ You jump up, leaning over the counter to flick his forehead. “—i’m going to tell everybody this pretty little golden boy set our kitchen on fire because he tried to boil water.”

“Cruel. You’re cruel.”

“The cruelest.”

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo fic #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo fluff #hq #kuroo x y/n #cool this was fun 2 make #y/n is cute #kuroo is cuter

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

stuck in stories - I’ll be around

Neil x Reader

summary: aftermath of a panic attack

+ song: Garret Kato - I’ll be around (acoustic)

warnings: mentions of nightmares, panic attacks and loss

author’s note: Thank you so much for this request, dear anon, I feel like that was an important gap in their story to fill. And that’s why I decided to keep the song as the title of this one.

(As I am quite terrible at comforting others myself, I can just hope Neil did a better job than I ever could.)

This is basically chapter 5.5 from Stuck in Reverse series, so if you want to know a backstory behind this one-shot, you should consider reading at least chapters 4 and 5.

But even without that, there is plenty of softness here for you to enjoy.

A penny for your thoughts?

___

Another sleepless night.

It was different this time though. To be fair, how could you sleep after what had happened?

You didn’t have enough time to process the events of last night. A part of you was scared it might have been yet another dream; your brain’s twisted attempt to make amends for the nightmare which made you spiral into a panic attack in the van.

The fire flickering in the blue eyes. Neil’s forehead pressed to yours. His arms wrapped around you tightly, not willing to let you go ever again. That kiss. And how both of you had lost yourselves in that moment.

You smiled as your legs carried you to the spot you’d watched the sunset from the day before. You would know for sure later. Right then you were too tired to think, but too afraid to fall asleep, so there you were at the cliffs again, just before dawn. You rolled out your sleeping bag on the ground and sat down, watching the fading stars as the sky became brighter with every minute.

When the first rays of sunshine were about to reach the mountaintops at the other side of the valley, you heard footsteps.

“Tea?”

You scoffed, glancing over your shoulder.

Of course.

“Thank you, but how did you know where to find me?” you asked, reaching for a thermal cup.

“Had a feeling,” Neil shrugged, his lips curled in a knowing smirk. “Scoot over.”

You moved to the side, allowing him to kneel on the sleeping bag right next to you.

Your eyes met as each of you tried to find answers in one another - was it all true? Or was it just a moment of weakness?

Dumbasses.

When you both realized how mutual those doubts were, you started laughing.

“Oh, come here,” Neil grinned as he leaned your way, kissing you softly and sealing your new reality.

You chuckled against his lips, blinking away happy tears that made their way to the corner of your eyes. Your heart was singing in your chest. Neil wrapped one arm around your shoulders, shifting into a more comfortable position beside you as he pulled you closer.

You took a sip from your cup, snuggling to his side. “Why did you choose tea over coffee though?”

“I thought you may want to sleep for a few hours when we get back to the camp,” he said and gave you a warm smile. “You haven’t slept tonight, have you?”

You sighed.

Neil’s hand was slowly rubbing your arm. “That’s what I thought,” he hummed. “So when I asked you if those sleepless nights happen often…?”

You could feel your body getting tense, and that was enough to let him know that you hadn’t been honest with him back then. Even though it made sense at that time - you’d just met after a decade of not talking to each other, and it hadn’t seemed like a proper occasion to unload all your problems on him. Still, you were embarrassed he caught you on a lie that easily.

“I just didn’t want you to worry,” you mumbled, fastening your gaze on your laps.

“I know,” said Neil, setting his cup aside. He put his hand under your chin and lifted it gently so he could look at your face. “But I worry when I don’t know what is going on with you. Especially if I can clearly see that something bothers you.” He placed a small kiss on your forehead and his eyes lit up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Try telling me that you’re fine or it’s nothing though, and I will toss you from that cliff,” he said as the corner of his lips twitched into a half-smile.

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

At least he wasn’t mad at you.

You took a deep breath and started talking. As the sunlight slowly poured into the valley, you told him about your nightmares. How most of the nights you were forced to face your fallen teammates. About the crippling guilt from not being good enough or prepared enough to save them. And that every time you wanted to apologize for letting them down but you couldn’t.

With every sentence, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. When you started trembling, Neil shifted himself so he could hold you in his arms, his legs framing you on the sides. He took your hands and laced his fingers with yours.

At first, you barely felt any of that. You were too lost in your own head, sharing the memories of the nights when you were too afraid to fall asleep. And how you knew all that sleep deprivation made you prone to repeating your mistakes and risking even more lives. But slowly, with every stroke of Neil’s thumbs on your fingers, with his chest heaving steadily against your back, your breath leveled out; the warmth and safety of his embrace grounding you in the present.

Finally, you ran out of words. You pulled your hands to your chest, nestling inside Neil’s arms. He pecked your shoulder and pressed his cheek to your temple. For the next few moments, you sat in silence; taking in the views, the peacefulness of the early morning, the comfort of being close to each other.

“It’s impossible to prepare for everything, you know. Even if we try, some things will always be out of our hands.”

You sighed. “It doesn’t make it easier.”

“I know, love,” said Neil softly, nuzzling your hair. “Still, it’s good to have that thought at the back of your mind.”

You nodded, exhaling slowly. Easier said than done. One thing is to know something, the other thing is to feel it, and that’s what you’d been struggling with the most. He was right though, and you appreciated the reminder.

“What about the panic attacks?”

“They happen from time to time,” you said. “Most of them at night, when my guard is down. That one in the van…,” - you winced at the memory - “God, I can’t remember the last time it happened with people around, probably that’s what made it so much worse.”

“Does every nightmare trigger them?”

You shrugged. “No, not really.”

“What was different, then?”

You hesitated for a moment. Should you tell him?

“My brain decided to spice it with a little game of what if,” you said bitterly. The image of the blue eyes behind the mask flashed in your mind, making you squeeze Neil’s fingers, still intertwined with yours.

As if he could sense what was going on in your head, Neil wrapped his arms around you even tighter. “What a jerk,” he huffed into your ear.

“Yeah.”

Neil shifted to your side. As you turned his way, you met his worried eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” A sad smile, combined with his furrowed brows and his lips pressed into a thin line, gave you a hint at how helpless he felt right then. He moved closer and grazed your cheek with his knuckles. “If there is anything I can do…”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “You being there for me-... it means the world.” You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and gently ran your fingers along his features. “And you’re helping already.”

A shade of smile on your face made Neil’s eyes light up.

Those playful sparks were one of the only things in the whole world able to untie every knot in your stomach in mere seconds. You stifled a chuckle as you caught his gaze lingering on your lips. You tugged at his jacket. A little giggle escaped his mouth just before he kissed you, wiping away all the leftover numbness from your heart.

You stayed on the cliffs for a little while longer.

On your way back to the camp, Neil got lost in his thoughts.

“How do you know they are judging you?”

That question caught you by surprise. You raised your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“Your teammates… How are you so sure? You said they are just standing there.” He tilted his head as studied your expression. “What if it’s not why they are there, and it’s your guilty conscience’s fault you read it that way?”

You opened your mouth to answer but you hesitated.

It felt as if that one sentence kicked your brain off the rails.

You weren’t sure if he was right, but for that moment, it was enough to unlock new paths in your mind.

Neil shrugged lightly and gave you a half-smile.

“Something to think about.”

____

(continue to part 6)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson #stuck in reverse #stuck in stories

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bitterepiphany · 3 years

Text

your silent words

ao3

basically a smutty rewrite of the arumika oneshot i did a little while ago

The day Eren walked out of the International Forum, they had initially assumed he just wanted to get some fresh air. Only Mikasa’s gaze had lingered on his retreating back for longer than the other’s, prompting a gentle tug on her arm from Armin, who just shook his head softly.

“He’s okay,” he whispered, “He probably just wants some fresh air… we did have a big night last night.” Armin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, still feeling the aftermath of their ‘drunken shenanigans’ - as Hange had put it - in his pounding head and sore throat from the bile that his stomach had upended promptly after he woke up. Though he definitely didn’t have the worst of it; Sasha, Connie and Jean looked barely conscious as they slumped in their seats, cradling their heads in their arms and leaning discreetly on each other’s shoulders.

His words did little to ease the worry in Mikasa’s eyes, but she straightened in her seat, meeting Armin’s eyes briefly and gave a small nod.

****

It became apparent that Eren did not simply just want some fresh air. When he failed to return to the Forum, the group made haste to leave as soon as it finished, with the hope that he would just be waiting for them outside. What followed was a frantic rush around the city searching - searching shops, the markets, bars, back alleys, anywhere a broody 19-year-old Eldian would be hiding to get away from his responsibilities. They didn’t stop searching until a resigned-looking Levi had to physically force the panicking Hange to listen to Onyankopon; the sun was beginning to set, and it would raise suspicion if the boat they planned to commandeer back to Paradis lingered in the harbour for too much longer.

Armin was baffled. To say that Eren had literally vanished into thin air was not an exaggeration. The group had lulled into a shocked stupor; they had no idea what to do. Armin could see that Levi, despite his carefully schooled calm expression, was fuming - it couldn’t help that Hange, who, as commander, would face all sorts of awful questioning back home, looked utterly devastated; they had put enough trust in Eren to bring him along and not to do anything rash, and it just blew up in their face.

The person Armin was more concerned about, however, was Mikasa. She had transitioned into that unnaturally calm demeanor he had only seen when she thought Eren was dead all those years ago in Trost, and subsequently whenever he had gotten himself kidnapped by Reiner and Bertholdt, and Rod Reiss, respectively. She had searched for him with a frightening intensity, barely uttering a single word the entire time, that look ever present on her face.

Now Mikasa stood on the docks, facing back towards the city, eyes roaming over the buildings, as if Eren would simply appear in a doorway and stride out to join them. Armin carefully walked over to her side. She didn’t acknowledge him initially, continuing her silent search of the city landscape, but Armin knew that she could tell he was there.

Armin felt a wave of guilt rise up in his chest as he looked at her. What if he hadn’t stopped her from following him out of the assembly hall? There’d be no way Eren could have escaped Mikasa if she had been there with him. He should have known, should have seen that something was amiss with Eren, should have seen the signs somehow. But there was nothing he could do now.

He reached out and touched her arm. “Mikasa?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. Mikasa turned to him. For a moment, Armin saw behind the blank look in her eyes. He saw the raw pain in them, the terror at being left behind, once again. Suddenly, he was back atop Wall Rose, steam burns stinging painfully on his cheeks, struggling to find the words to say to comfort a younger, scared Mikasa as she came to terms with the fact there was nothing she could do to get Eren back this time.

Armin said nothing for a few moments, and just looked at her. She seemed to crack even more under his gaze, her face twisting, lines of worry and misery forming, her eyes betraying her internal conflict.

“Armin…” Her voice was barely a whisper, hardly rising above the gentle sounds of waves beneath the dock they stood upon. “What am I supposed to do? Wh-why did he leave? What did I-”

“Mikasa,” he interrupted, knowing where her thoughts were taking her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. We’ve done all we can, and -” he reached out again and took her hand “- now I guess... all we can do is hope that Eren knows what he’s doing.”

Mikasa stared at their hands, mouth opening to protest, but he squeezed her fingers firmly; she looked at him again, before her shoulders sagged. “I guess so,” she breathed. Finally, she looked away from the city skyline and turned to face the rest of the group. Just in time, as Onyankopon appeared on the deck on the boat, calling them over.

“We’ve only got thirty minutes to get out of here before they start asking questions!” he yelled, “I’m sorry, but we either leave Eren here, wherever he is, or we leave you all here!”

Hange looked over them all, their eyes lingering on Mikasa with concern. They glanced at Armin, who nodded slightly. “Ok guys, it’s time to go...” they announced heavily, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Quit your moping, brats.” Levi glared at them all in turn. His eyes softened slightly. “Let’s just go home.”

They traipsed up the gangplank, Jean, Connie and Sasha heading below deck immediately, finding themselves prone to seasickness due to the unfamiliar, jarring feeling of the boat rocking over waves. Armin’s hand was still linked with Mikasa’s, and she trailed behind him slowly, head hanging miserably. Armin found the movement of sea travel to be soothing, the rolling waves fascinating to look at. Mikasa and Levi didn’t seem to mind either, but Armin suspected it was due to their Ackerman genes that kept them from getting an upset stomach.

Armin led his subdued friend over to some crates overlooking the bow of the ship, as Onyankopon, Hange and Levi called out to each other as they prepared to set off. They took a seat, Armin’s eyes tracking a sea bird as it glided on the breeze over their heads.

Mikasa was quiet, but Armin could see the shaking of small tremors in her hunched shoulders. He ran his thumb softly over her knuckles, every callous and scar lining her palm pressed up against his own.

He didn’t let go of Mikasa’s hand the entire trip back.

****

Months passed, and the only indication they received that Eren wasn’t dead in some ditch was a singular letter, - detailing nothing much but the fact that they should entrust Zeke with everything - arriving at the island a few days after they returned. After Armin and Mikasa had confirmed that, yes that was indeed Eren’s handwriting, they had been swamped in meetings with a whole range of officials ranging from Queen Historia to the damned Reeves Company, all demanding how on earth they had fucked up so badly that they had allowed their most vital asset and bargaining chip of the Founding Titan to simply run away.

Being stationed in seperate divisions following the incident - Armin in HQ assisting Hange with strategy and official business; Mikasa in the field training new Scouts recruits - Armin scarcely had the chance to see his best friend. He was concerned for her, and if those few days after receiving that letter were any indication of her mental health, he could only imagine how she was doing at the moment.

As soon as she had read it, Mikasa had become concerningly withdrawn. She only appeared among the group if she had to for meetings, and as far as Armin was aware, she hid in her room any other time. He had tried to talk to her, but she never opened her locked door or was evasive and distant with him during short breaks in between meetings.

He lost his chance to really try and talk to her when they were separated, and now three months had passed, work just keeping him glued to a desk or at Hange’s side. But he resolved to ask for some leave to join Mikasa, who was assisting Levi near Shiganshina in the wildernesses of Wall Maria.

He approached Hange’s office, running over his excuses on how he was going to convince them to let him go. He resolved to just tell them the truth, since Hange would likely see through any feeble lie he made up. Armin reached their office, and knocked on the door.

“Come on in!”

Hange was perched atop their desk, examining a wad of paper. Upon seeing who it was, they grinned and hopped down.

“Armin! I was just about to go find you, did you look over those reports from the new recruits near Karanes?” Hange walked behind their desk, rummaging around for a second and pulling out a tin. They opened it up, and Armin spotted what looked like biscuits. Hange offered him one, and he took it.

He bit into it, letting the sugary taste fill his mouth. “Yeah, I saw those reports, I’ll bring you my notes on them after this.” He rubbed the back of his neck, scratching at his undercut. “But I wanted to ask you about something else.”

Hange nodded, mouth full. “Oh yeah, go on?”

“Honestly? I know it’s been a couple of months since we went to Marley, but I’m really worried about Mikasa,” he explained, “I could tell she wasn’t doing too well back then, and I just don’t know… she’s never been this long without being with him, and - “

Hange waved their hand at him, cutting him off. “Say no more Armin, I understand, I understand.” They bit into another biscuit thoughtfully. “Levi hasn’t said much about her in his updates apart from standard stuff, but I’m sure he hasn’t had much luck in getting her to open up either… Do you want to head out to them tomorrow?”

“Oh!” Armin was surprised at how willingly they agreed. “I mean if there’s anything else you need me to do before I go -”

“No, no, it’s fine Armin, seriously,” Hange insisted, “I mean I hate to lose such a diligent worker like you, but I know you’re probably the only one who can get Mikasa back to her old self… well, as much as she can without Eren…”

Armin smiled, nodding. “Thank you so much Hange, really.”

Hange just ushered him out of their office, stuffing another biscuit into his hand.

****

The trip to Wall Maria took him less than a day by horse, and he arrived at the Southern Survey Corps training grounds at sundown. Jean, who alternated his time between this camp and the eastern one near Karanes, rode out to meet him as he arrived, and he updated him on the state of things. Apparently, Captain Levi had the recruits renovating an abandoned barn, and was even harsher with his cleaning regimes than he was when they were part of his squad. Jean chuckled as he recounted Mikasa’s attempts to give the kids an easier time by sneaking in extra rags, changing water discreetly, and helping them carry around the splintered planks of wood, much to Levi’s annoyance.

They were rubbing down their horses Jean sighed. “You know, sometimes I miss those days when we were all together in Levi Squad.”

Armin paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Well, we still technically are part of his squad, but…”

“It’s not the same,” Jean nodded, “Not when we’re split up all over the place like this. Heh, remember when we were on the run and had to scamper around in the wilderness for a couple of days?”

Armin chuckled, recalling how Levi still somehow managed to get on their asses about keeping themselves clean while they slept huddled together under trees in the dirt.

“Yeah… somehow, those days seem more laid back than what we have to do now, in a way,” he said, making his way to the mess hall with Jean. “Oh, by the way, how’s Mikasa doing?”

Jean, who’s hand was reaching to open the door, paused. He looked over at Armin, sighing. “She’s the reason you came, right?” he asked.

Armin nodded.

“Well, she’s -“ he ran his fingers through his hair tiredly “- she’s not okay. She tries to hide it, but we can all tell that she’s barely coping. She won’t open up to us, or anyone, not even Levi.” He looked over at Armin again and punched him gently on the arm. “But you’re here now, you little silver tongued snake!”

Armin snorted, stepping inside the hall behind Jean. The recruits were still at dinner, and chatter ceased abruptly as they looked over at the new arrivals. Armin and Jean spotted Levi and Mikasa eating on the other side of the hall, and they raised their hands in greeting.

“Oi! Brats!” Levi’s voice rang across the room. “Where’s your respect? An important guest just arrived and you just ignore him?” He strode to Armin’s side and gestured to him. “This is Officer Armin Arlert, he’ll be here for a few weeks to help you twats out, okay?”

The sound of wood scraping on wood filled the room as the recruits hurried to their feet. They saluted. “Sir!”

Armin saluted back, still not used to being a higher rank than these kids who weren’t much younger than him. He turned to Levi. “It’s good to see you Captain.” The older man just nodded at him, glancing at his shoes.

“You didn’t track in dirt, did you?” Armin shook his head, smiling. Levi looked over at Jean, who was getting food. “Tsk... Jean! Get Arlert a plate too!”

Armin made his way to the table, where Mikasa sat. She looked up at him, eyes wide. They just looked at each other for a moment, Armin trying to see how she was before he said anything.

“Mika -”

She jumped up suddenly, and wrapped Armin in a tight hug. The tension left his body, and he hugged her back, smiling as she rested her cheek on top of his head. “Hey… I missed you,” he mumbled.

Her arms tightened around him. “I missed you too, Armin.”

****

The night had passed without event, Armin, Jean, and Mikasa chatting about what they had been up to the past few months, laughing together when Levi roused on the recruits for making a mess of the food hall. As they helped clean up, Armin scrubbed dishes, when Levi approached him and pulled him aside. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Look Armin, I couldn’t say anything to you right in front of her, but I know why you’re here and I’m glad you came.” Levi sighed and crossed his arms. “She’s not good, and she’s a shitty-ass liar too, so everyone can tell. I’ve tried, but she won’t tell me jack, so all I can really do is try and keep her busy out here.”

Armin nodded understandingly. “It’s okay Captain, I’m sure it's better for her to be doing things rather than just… being alone with her thoughts,” he mused, “But I’ll talk to her, see if I can make her feel any better.”

“I’m holding you to that, brat,” Levi groused. He jabbed a finger out at Armin’s chest. “I won’t let you leave till she’s back in somewhat working order, you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”

Levi snorted, gracing Armin with one of his rare half-smiles, before ushering him back into the hall to continue cleaning. Armin hummed. He supposed Levi cared about her in his own, special way - after all, they were each other’s only family left, and it couldn’t have felt good for Levi to see the only soldier who came close to his strength in such a state.

He returned to washing the dishes, and couldn’t help the warmth spreading through his chest as Levi smacked Jean across his head for disrupting a massive dust pile and causing all the recruits to sneeze. He caught Mikasa’s eye and that warmth only grew when she cracked a grin at him he couldn’t help but return.

I guess some things never change, huh?

****

Mikasa walked him to where he would be sleeping in the officer’s quarters after the recruit’s curfew. They paused in front of the door. Armin glanced back at her. That closed off look had returned to her features. “Come in,” he offered as he turned the handle.

“‘Kay”

The room was fairly spacious, with a decently-sized bed, a cupboard, and a desk in the corner. Armin flicked the lamp on and it filled the room with a soft amber glow. Shucking off his jacket and shoes as Mikasa did the same, he clambered onto the bed, looking up at her and patting the covers next to him. She seemed to hesitate slightly, before sighing minutely and settled next to him.

Realising he had no idea how to start this conversation with her without bringing up really sensitive topics, they sat in silence for a while. Then, Armin felt her slender fingers brush lightly through his hair, rubbing his bangs between her digits.

“Remember when I used to braid this for you when it was longer?”

Armin smiled, recalling the days before he cut his hair shorter, and Mikasa would sit him down and braid it back for him during times when he couldn’t get a trim and it would start to get in the way.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “You were always really good at that kind of stuff…”

She hummed. “Sometimes I miss your old hair..”

“Really?” He scoffed. “I don’t, it was ridiculous! I looked like a blonde coconut!”

She chuckled at that, tousling his hair roughly and eliciting a small squeak of protest from his mouth. “It suited you though, you were cute.”

Armin blushed slightly, peeking at her shyly. Mikasa was beautiful. Always had been. She possessed this fluid elegance that graced her movements, making it seem like everything she did came so naturally to her. Armin wasn’t afraid to admit that for a time after he first met Mikasa - back at the tender age of nine - he had become pretty infatuated with her. Maybe it was her exotic beauty, or the way she always was willing to patiently listen to him ramble on about the books he read, or maybe it was the fact that she was so willing to stand up and fight for a small, weakling boy like him, that she barely knew, but he became smitten almost instantly.

He wasn’t sure if those feelings ever went away. They were buried, deep down inside of him, pushed aside due to the knowledge of how Mikasa felt about Eren. They were so close, though, that the casual touches, the inside jokes, and soft gazes were so common that Armin sometimes struggled with the thoughts of how he felt about her. Most days, he thought he had accepted it, accepted the fact that that sort of bridge had never been built between them. But now, with her fingers running through his hair, her eyes locked onto his, he wasn’t sure whether the lurch in his stomach as the lamp light fell across her face was from dinner, nerves, or something he’d rather not address.

“Armin…”

Her voice had dropped to a whisper, husky with something that made Armin’s skin crawl with goosebumps. The atmosphere was heavy with something he was scared to identify.

Suddenly, her hands were framing his face, and she was straddling his hips. Armin’s breath caught, his body reacting too fast for him to control, and before he knew it, his hands rested on her hips, gripping lightly. There was something desperate in her gaze, eyes searching his for something he didn’t think he could give.

“Mika-!”

Satin lips were pressed against his, hard, fast, hungry, with a brute strength and ferocity that only Mikasa could be known for. He had little choice but to give, the cautionary part of his brain screaming ‘ stop her!’ falling to the wayside of the part that urged him on, that caused him to grip her sides harder, to push back with an unknown strength of his own, to slide his tongue over her’s, to explore her mouth in all the ways he had imagined in the past.

But when he opened his eyes and saw the tears lining hers, saw the jumps in her breaths as she attempted to contain her grief, Armin couldn’t continue. He pushed her back gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Mikasa,” he murmured, “You need to talk to me. Not, whatever… this is.”

She averted her eyes quickly, turning her face. There was a pause. “Talk about what?”

Armin frowned. Slowly, his hand travelled down her face and caught her cheek, turning it back to face him. Their eyes met. “You know saying that won’t work on me right?” She just looked at him, eyes wide. He could feel her tremble under his fingers. “I’m here, Mikasa.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Her face crumpled, and broken sobs ripped out of her throat. She collapsed into him, head landing on his chest, and he gathered her into his arms and just held her. She curled up in his lap, her head buried in the crook of his shoulder, hands balled so tightly in his shirt he wouldn’t be surprised if he found it ripped later. He settled his chin atop her head, fingers stroking the hair on the nape of her neck, slowly, soothingly.

Armin let her cry, allowed her to let out those body-shaking sobs, letting her release what must be months of awful, pent-up feelings. Slowly, her tears subsided, leaving her sniffly and trembling. Armin rubbed small, gentle circles on her back, and she shifted, raising her face off his chest and wiping at her eyes and nose.

Mikasa glanced sheepishly up at him, mouth parting to form words. Armin’s finger pressed against her lips, stifling them. “Don’t apologise,” he said quietly, “It’s okay.”

Her breath hitched awkwardly, and she swiped at her eyes again. “I-I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” Mikasa whispered thickly. “I feel like it’s all my fault, like I should have done something, said something, be-before he-” she broke off again, new tears leaking down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey…” Armin soothed, thumbing away the liquid on her face. “I told you before, you did - you’re doing - everything you could.” He lightly brushed her hair out of her eyes again, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Mikasa…” he mumbled against her skin, “You’re here, and that’s enough.” He paused, gathering his nerves to say what he planned to next.

“If… if you need something, like that … I-I can help, I guess?”

Her shoulders shook slightly as she took a breath.

“I don’t wanna use you like that, Armin…” she whispered, looking down at her legs curled around his hips. “Even… even if I don’t even know how I feel about you in that way right now… I know how you feel about Annie, and I don’t- I don’t want to ruin -”

He cut her off by pressing a long, hard kiss to her lips. She melted into him, resistance crumbling.

“I’m not thinking about Annie, Mikasa. I’m thinking about you. You’re not going to ruin anything, I promise.”

Something between them broke at his words. She surged back towards him, kissing him desperately. Clearly, she didn’t want to waste any time, her hips rocking against the steadily growing bulge in his pants, causing him to moan softly into her mouth. Her lips separated from his with a slight smack, and she tilted his jaw up with her fingers, peppering butterfly kisses all over his neck.

Quick as anything, she unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off, not even giving Armin a chance to admire her toned body before he was entranced by the sight of her bare breasts; she had removed her bra too with laser-quick efficiency.

In the attempt to keep up with her pace, Armin’s hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them, rewarding him with soft, breathy sounds from Mikasa, which only grew louder as he leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips. He sucked, their bodies moving as they grinded against one another.

Armin’s shirt found its place on the ground, and soon did his pants. He couldn’t contain his groans of pleasure as her slender fingers stroked up his hard length, practically yelling aloud when her lips sealed themselves around the tip, bobbing up and down lightly.

“M-mika, I’m not gonna.. if you…” he choked out. She seemed to get the message, releasing his cock with a loud pop, and fumbling with her pants.

Every inch of her body was a sculpted killing machine, and Armin somehow got the privilege to see her bare and vulnerable like this. They gasped and moaned into each other’s mouths as she lowered herself onto him. She set the pace, keeping her eyes locked with his as they started slowly, building themselves into a rhythm, her hands on his chest, his on the surprising softness of her ass.

She was very vocal, groaning and humming in pleasure as she worked herself on him, and soon it became too much for Armin to handle. Gathering his strength, he surprised them both by successfully flipping her onto the mattress in a single, fluid motion. Pressing his lips to hers, he set a hard and fast pace, swearing softly under his breath as her walls gripped him tightly.

She urged him on, legs locking behind his hips, arms looped around his neck, whispering encouragements in his ear until he peaked, remembering to pull himself out and spill onto her stomach, burying his face and stifling his moans in her shoulder.

Mikasa pressed a tender kiss to his collarbone as she gently pushed him off of her, and he rolled to the side, panting in exertion. In a contented silence, they cleaned themselves up together, then slipped under the covers.

Armin wrapped her in his arms, and reached behind him to flick off the lamp. Darkness swept across the room, and he settled against her, burying his face in her hair.

Mikasa had always smelt of home, of the scent of fresh-baked goods wafting down the back of a Shiganshina alley-way, stone streets wet with the rain from an afternoon shower, of a crackling fireplace in the winter, and of exotic market spices that would make his nose tingle in curious ways. He closed his eyes, breathing her in, breathing home in, allowing her to sweep him up in it, the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling him to sleep.

****

The weeks passed in a contented blur following that night. Mikasa emerged from her cocoon of misery and returned, for the most part, to her normal self. Armin spent almost all his time with her, just enjoying each other’s company, letting themselves forget some of the outside worries, focusing instead on the recruits, Levi, and the rotating members of their squad that came to train with them. Both Sasha and Connie had arrived, stayed for a few days, and been on their way respectively, and had both been ecstatic to hear that Mikasa was doing better. Sasha was so happy she had hoisted Armin over her shoulder and paraded him around, yelling about how he was a magician.

Ever since that first night, where the recruits had witnessed them hug openly, whispers and giggles followed them around whenever they were together - which was basically all the time. Their openly affectionate nature towards each other didn’t help dispel the rumors that Armin was Mikasa’s lover, either. He heard enough envious groans from both male and female recruits alike that sometimes he teased them by making a show of linking his and Mikasa’s arms together as they walked, or randomly giving her surprise hugs from behind. They would smirk at each other, knowing that if the recruits found out about what they were really doing together, the reactions would be much more severe.

Mikasa stayed in his room almost all nights, quietly slipping through the door with her cat-like grace, padding across the floor and locking his lips with hers. Armin asked no questions, and they rarely talked on these occasions; they would strip, fuck each other senseless, then tangle themselves together to sleep, exhausted enough by their ‘ activities’ that they would just be lulled to sleep soon enough.

But their little bubble of contentedness would pop occasionally, and the reality of their situation would sink in. It truly hit Armin hard how badly Mikasa had been struggling when she approached him one afternoon, and wordlessly handed him a small box. His eyes widened when he realised what it contained, the sight of the small metal blades breaking his heart. He felt tears prick his eyes, and he pulled her into a long, bone-crushing hug, only letting her go when Levi had approached them, worried that something had happened.

Duty called though, and the day he had to return to HQ came quicker than either of them would have liked. But as they said their goodbye’s Armin held her close and promised he would visit more often, even looking over at Levi and saying he’d try and bring Hange along, much to the older man's delight - if his exasperated snort was anything to go by.

“I’ll come up too,” Mikasa said, linking her fingers with his as he mounted his horse. “It’ll be good to take these kids out, and I’m sure even grandpa over there is getting sick of this place.”

“Oi brat, I heard that!”

Armin chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Promise me you’ll find me if you ever need to talk about anything?”

“Promise.”

She smiled and waved as he rode away, remaining in the same spot, watching him as she grew smaller and smaller over his shoulder, until she disappeared from sight entirely.

****

Mikasa made good on her promise to visit, and she and Armin spent the months alternating travelling north and south to visit for a few days at a time in between work. She seemed to enjoy her time at HQ, sometimes showing the recruits around and helping Levi and Hange assign them tasks, or just hung out with Armin in his office. She helped him with his ‘work’ , locking his office door behind her, or dragging him into a spare bunkhouse where they would have their way with each other. Other times they would just hang out; play silly games; sneak food in and eat; or they would sprawl on the floor and he would read books out loud to her.

He took her to see Annie in the basement once. She just stood there, gazing up at the crystallised girl, eyes contemplative. She didn’t say anything, and simply watched as Armin went through his usual routine, recounting what he had been up to since he had visited last, reading snippets from the newspaper, and reciting random facts about things that popped into his head. Hitch wasn’t in today, so it was just him and Mikasa. Armin could feel Mikasa’s gaze on him as he went through the motions, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty when he came apart under her touch when she dropped to her knees in front of his desk that same afternoon.

It was during one of their less ‘active’ afternoons when they were leant up against each other, Armin reading some fantasy novel about a prince going on a quest to save a princess, when Hange suddenly burst through the door, looking frantic. Armin jerked and looked up at them, only to feel his stomach drop as he saw what they clutched in their hand.

A letter. And Armin recognised the messy scrawl on the envelope.

****

So then they were huddled together on the rocking airship, Armin shifting uncomfortably in the new ODM gear. He thought about what he was going to in just over an hour. He thought about all the people he was about to kill.

Mikasa looked over at him, and he knew that she was aware of his thoughts. She shifted closer to him, covering one of his hands with her own. He looked up at her, and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Armin,” she said suddenly, breaking their silence. “I will stay with you, if you want me to. I can support you with what you have to do.”

His eyes locked on to hers with surprise. “What?” he exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you need to be there to take out the Warhammer!” He gritted his teeth and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. The plan should hold out fine. Plus, Eren’ll end up doing something stupid and dying if you aren’t there to help him out.”

Mikasa huffed slightly at that, a small smile gracing her lips. Her hands reached up and parted his bangs, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We’re here, together, and that’s enough, right?”

Armin looked at her, his best friend, his rock, his one constant throughout their crazy lives. He smiled.

“Yeah. Together.”

#arumika #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #oneshot

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vampiresuns · 3 years

Text

Corazón Ardiente

2.3k words. Preparing themselves to cross the Strait of Sirens, the crew of The Jagged Ruby runs into another pirate ship. Alternative, in which Julianus makes an unlikely friend. Contains 🍋

The crew of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante, such as Captain Rodrigo and his Quartermaster Jacqui, belong to @apprenticealec. You can also check their map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.

This is the opening part of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. Part VI will be divided in three parts: Corazón Ardiente, Corazón Sufriente and Corazón Sangrante.

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

This part also introduces the fictional country of ‘Altazor’, a latino fictional country where Julianus is from — other Alzoreño characters in my fictional universe are Louisa De Silva and her son: Aelius Anatole Radošević.

It wasn’t too long past the break of dawn when Jules heard the door open, making the sea breeze from outside enter the room. Its coolness made them bury themselves a little further into the sheets, though they kept enough of their head above the covers to peek an eye open. Saoirse’s outline closed the door of their quarters, making the door click behind them.

Jules yawned, sitting up on the bed, holding the covers up only for the sake of warmth. Saoirse smiled at them.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” they said as they stretched. “What were you doing?”

“Feeding Marcius for you.” Saoirse paused, as if unsure of what to do next. “Do you want me to go back to bed with you, or are you alright? It’s still too early for anything to happen… Meredith is not awake yet.”

Jules patted the side of the bed next to them, but Saoirse hesitated again.

“What is it?”

“Should I join you with or without clothes?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What you want, what I may want. I could just go back to sleep, you were a wonderful pillow,” they smiled; Saoirse thought they looked adorable with a bedhead and a sleepy smile on their face. “But I also wouldn’t mind not going back to sleep, if that’s what you were wondering.”

The Quartermaster licked their own lips, a distinctively human gesture. J. C. couldn’t help but wonder where, or who, they had picked it up from. They wondered about all such mannerisms in them, marvelling at the entity standing before them. As Saoirse took their shirt off, they asked them why they were looking at them like that.

Julianus shrugged. “Aren’t you a curious entity?”

“Care to tell me why?” Saoirse asked as they got back in bed. They faced Julianus, tucking their mussed up hair behind one of their ears. “I don’t think there’s anything particularly curious about this, us.”

“No, not us,” Jules paused to kiss the corner of their mouth. “I just find it wonderfully delightful that someone such as you would choose to model themself after beings such as humans. You’re so alike us in our lack of similarities.”

Saoirse huffed through their nose. An undecipherable gesture that made Jules wonder if they did such things on purpose, or if they naturally to them. They didn’t ask however, allowing Saoirse space if they needed any. As their presence began acquiring that incomprehensible, vast feeling it often had, their eyes wandered all over them. However, Julianus no longer found it strange. Even if it prickled at them, they had learnt to find it comforting.

That was Saoirse, their Saoirse.

Neither of them should’ve been surprised they ended up having sex again. Why or who began it they didn’t know, nor they cared. Saoirse wanted to make use of Jules’ word that along with nights there would be mornings, and other moments, wanting to file away their many moods — both Jules’ and their own, and theirs as something which went together. Jules just wanted, simple as that. The day hadn’t begun yet, and given they weren’t nearly as quick as Saoirse was with their own tasks, not having had centuries to grow accustomed to them (as well as generally having a better capacity to finish tasks in one go). They weren’t going to pass on the opportunity to have the Quartermaster for themself just a little longer.

The distant but growing sound of drums had other plans, however.

Saoirse went still, getting out of bed as they claimed Meredith would not be happy about this. They moved across their quarters as if nothing had interrupted them, stopping only when J. C. cleared their throat. They look vaguely irritated.

“If you could explain—“

Saoirse turned with a reassuring smile, telling them it was nothing of importance, just something Meredith wouldn’t like. It didn’t require Julianus, so Saoirse told them to feel free to dress at their leisure. Before they could dwell a moment longer, however, they were gone.

Right, duty called. Now alone, Julianus set themself on getting ready, though it took them a moment to stir themselves into leaving the bed. They resigned themselves to their fate fast rather than slowly. At least the drumming, whatever its source, provided a nice ambience sound for it. It was energetic, like a Murga inviting Jules to join.

A Murga… when was the last time they had witnessed one? They must’ve been 17, 18 at most. Ten years was a long time, though sitting in bed to float over the waters of nostalgia wouldn’t get them anywhere, as tempting as it was, they knew better now, with time. Though the memories remained, they began moving. Sometimes, one had to sit with the discomfort and carry on — it’s lessons would come eventually.

A quick splash to their face, a scrub, some basic skin care, underwear, pants, a shirt, earrings and shoes. Only which ones? Meredith being otherwise occupied meant they had a little more time to dwell on their appearance, and Julianus used every extra moment they had. They didn’t have any breakfast duties that week, they could indulge. They settled on a pair of knee high lace ups, standing on one foot to adjust them.

As they tried to keep their balance, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. They stumbled forward, clinging onto a small table in order not to fall. With the rattle, the person behind the door opened it.

“Saoirse?”

“Uh, not precisely.”

The person was tall, tall enough to have to duck their head into Saoirse’s quarters, even if they lingered by the door. Jules did not have a good eye for measuring by estimation, but they knew they were definitely taller than Saoirse. They assumed that if they were specifically looking for them, they must know them.

The stranger acted with a gentle poise to them, somehow all amused, awkward and trying not to alarm Jules. It was nice of them, even if they didn’t know them, and by all means, from their perspective, the stranger in a friend’s room was Jules, not them.

“I can see that. Unless Saoirse decided they wanted a change of look.”

Jules frowned, letting their mouth run loose. “Would they? I mean, we’re talking about someone who isn’t precisely pressed about appearances.”

They both stared at each other in silence for a couple of moments, Jules adjusting their boots after a soft-spoken ‘excuse me’.

“If you keep balancing yourself on one foot, you’ll fall again— pardon me, but are you—?”

Saoirse’s voice came from behind the stranger, a smile audible in it. “I tell them that all the time. Hi, Jacqui. Were you looking for me?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It turned out the drums came from the same place Jacqui, whom Jules knew only by the letters from him that Saoirse had shared with them, came from: Captain Rodrigo Aguilar’s El Corazón Sangrante, from the Sea of Persepia. Some business or the other had taken the Captain and his ship away from their sea, now making their return to it, as the quinquennial Pirate Meeting approached.

Jacqui, Rodrigo’s Quartermaster and Saoirse’s friend, had seen The Jagged Ruby from afar and convinced Rodrigo it would be better to join them in the cross of the Strait of Seals into Hinode. Winds weren’t favourable, and while it wasn’t a feeding season, another phenomenon Jules didn’t quite manage to understand made it desirable to have the most amount of aid possible crossing the strait.

“We should just be thankful Inuwashi isn’t near.”

“Is that Syd’s ship?” Jules asked. “Is there any particular reason for that or—?”

Saoirse was the one to reply: “The Sirens hate the ship,” they said with a shrug, “it makes it harder to cross after.”

“But the Sirens,” Jacqui said, giving Rodrigo a look, “like your songs.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rodrigo said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever works: I don’t wanna become fish food, and I assume neither do you, Mere,—”

“Don’t call me that,” Meredith snarled at him.

Julianus made a mental note to ask Saoirse what was up with those two, and why they hated each other, or rather, why Meredith hated Rodrigo so much. Because from what Julianus could see, Rodrigo seemed too busy trying to flirt with her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Meredith looked like she was ready to bite his hand off. Jacqui and Saoirse gave out equally long-suffering sighs.

Jules suddenly understood why —among all the other reasons Saoirse had given— they were friends. What they failed to notice, however, was Rodrigo looking at them.

“But now,” he said, with his Nopali accented common tongue, “you. You I haven’t met.”

Jacqui cursed.

“Me?”

“Drigo leave them out of this… what are you even doing here, Sanlaurento?”

“Legal counsel should be present at all times?”

Meredith rolled her eyes at them. “Scatter off.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The time to get to know Jacqui would come later, after both crews had disembarked in Hinode to stay the night there. They would not make it out of the Strait in one day with the weather and wind conditions, so it would be safer to stay the night on land if they planned to sleep without the risk of sleepwalking into the water, and becoming a tasty midnight snack for the beings luring said waters.

He was surprisingly gentle, incredibly soft spoken and very, very smart. He was very observant, prone to retreating into himself while being simultaneously aware of what was going on around him. He was also very, very aware of where Rodrigo was at all times.

They had begun talking about Saoirse’s language and their individual journeys to learn it, eventually moving into other topics. Julianus had asked how Jacqui met Saoirse —since they had never asked Saoirse themselves because, per their own admission, they forgot to ask— and Jacqui asked how Jules had ended up in Meredith’s ship.

They also talked briefly about Altazor, Jules home country.

It was located in the furthest, western end of the Bulan Range, with the City of Altazor as its capital. It was the southernmost of the West Bulan countries and had its own convoluted history. Originally coexisting in relative harmony with the indigenous populations of the area, a military regime had risen out of an old power dispute a couple of decades before Julianus was born. They had been born during the first years of the transition back into civilian hands, but the damage dealt was already done. What the tyrants had done to the Country was, to Julianus and anyone else with half a mind to it, unspeakable and unforgivable.

Of course, not everyone thought like that, but that was another story.

Julianus had lived in Altazor until their 20th birthday — having begun their legal studies there, they were transferred to Sirenia on a special request. They described the choice as ‘something’; whether the right or wrong something they didn’t know, and they told Jacqui as much.

“I applied to the Sea Palace as well, I was forced to, because you know,” the paused to take a drink, “there’s certain… charm about the endless escalating capacity of the Petite Bourgeoisie. Nothing like the dog eats dog tradition of it and the class it seeks to imitate. Needless to say, the Sea Palace said I was, how was it? ‘A low-pedigree, insubstantial applicant, with more enthusiasm than talent’. I, however, said I preferred to die on the side street than study with grave robbers and gatekeepers. My mother wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t happy about what the Scholars called me, so...”

They smiled against their glass, Jacqui’s laughter as their companion.

“You’re lucky.”

“Meh, but thank you, I suppose.”

Their talk about the Sea Palace and those places they both had left behind at some point (even if neither of them talked openly about those) carried onto politics, international news, the state of the world; places they wanted to visit, authors they had read. Both of them talked animatedly about this or that, exchanging points of views and debating ideas like nothing else pressed them in the world. They acquired a lightness to them, finding themselves less weighed down by the things they did not talk of.

If only for a night, both of them could be what a part of them had always desired they were: two travelling scholars. Only that. Two people had all the time in the world to dissect it and pick it up again, ever-marvelling at everything it may have to offer.

Two people for whom the horizon was a goal, not an impossibility.

The conversation paused when Saoirse offered to go get them drinks again, leaving both of the newly found friends in comfortable silence, with the sounds of the Koizumi Inn surrounding them.

“You’re nice to talk to,” Jules said with a smile. “It’s hard to find people who simply understand.”

Jacqui looked at them like they had grown a second head. “I don’t know how to take that. I don’t even know what that means.”

“As a compliment because it was one.” They paused to nurse their glass, taking a sip of their drink. “You don’t have to tell me anything, and I do apologise if I’m overstepping but you kind of have the energy of someone who everything which they are, which matters the most to them, did not come easy. Saoirse has it, in their own way, Meredith has it for sure, you do. I think it takes a lot of guts to look in the eye of everyone who ever expected something of you and say ‘No, I will not sacrifice myself for this’.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #secrets of an ancient moon series #jc sanlaurento #saoirse #meredith #captain rodrigo #jacqui #joirse #the janiverse #lemon

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actress4him · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 - Day 13

We’ve got another POV change today, this time to Lance! Gotta give not only my semi-regular shout out to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays for providing inspiration, but also a special shout out to the mod @the-wandering-whumper since they have declared two different tropes used here to be “their jam”. ;) Don’t expect the chemical pneumonia part of this to be medically accurate haha. This is called science fiction for a reason.

Day 13 - Chemical Pneumonia/Oxygen Mask

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: death mention, respiratory distress, needles

The Yadselites were brilliant scientists. Pidge and Hunk had been in their element all day, oohing and aahing and making googoo eyes over all the equipment and experiments they were being shown.

Lance? He was the opposite of in his element. Sure, some of that stuff was pretty interesting, once someone, anyone, bothered to explain to him in plain English what the heck they even did. But most of the day had been a whole lot of science-speak that he only understood every five words of, and he had zoned out so many times that he was about to fall asleep.

“So, it’s a gas that does...what exactly?” Shiro asked. At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t get the techno-babble speak.

Pidge pushed her glasses back up on her nose with one finger. “It incapacitates the Galra. Basically it’s like throwing in a smoke bomb before the SWAT team goes in.”

“Yeah but this doesn’t just make their eyes water,” Hunk added. “Sounds like by the time you got in there every Galra would just be lying on the floor.”

“Dead?” Shiro sounded a mix of fascinated and horrified.

“No, no,” their tour guide, Rokuba, assured in that perpetual soothing tone that was part of the reason why Lance was falling asleep. “Only, as your Green Paladin says, incapacitated.”

“So it would, like, do our work for us? I’m okay with that.” It wasn’t like he minded how difficult his job was. He just wouldn’t mind if it was a little less difficult.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Keith had taken a few steps backwards away from the group. Oh. Right. Galra-incapacitating gas, half-Galra Mullet. He’d probably be a little nervous, too, if it were him.

“Is it safe for other species...humans, for example?”

“Oh yes, very,” Rokuda smiled. “The gas targets a very specific combination of genes that are only found in Galran DNA. For humans, Yadselites, and all other species, there is only a light, sweet smell.” She reached for the canister. “If you will allow me to demonstrate…”

Before Lance - or apparently anyone else - could even think to protest, a flowery-smelling mist erupted into the air. Shiro and Hunk both shouted and lunged for the canister. Lance spun around to face Keith, who had clapped a hand over his nose and mouth and was staring at the gas in wide-eyed panic.

Then Pidge was bodily shoving him out of the lab, everyone following close behind while Rokuda stammered out multiple apologies. Ignoring her, Shiro shoved his way forward and clapped his hands onto Keith’s shoulders.

“Keith! Keith, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Keith coughed.

But it wasn’t, like, a terrible sounding cough. Just pretty much your typical “I have a tickle in my throat” cough, not one that seemed like he was about to keel over and die.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, swallowing visibly. “I...I definitely inhaled some. But...I think I’m okay?”

They all let out a collective sigh of relief, despite the fact that he didn’t sound all that sure. He wasn’t choking or falling over, so that was as good of a sign as any.

“Dude,” Hunk groaned. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Keith’s nose wrinkled and he looked as if he was about to protest that it wasn’t his fault, but Pidge interrupted. “Either you didn’t inhale enough to do any damage, or you don’t carry all of the right genes for it to affect you.”

“It could be either,” Rokuda offered. “We have not yet tested the effects of a minuscule amount, or on any species mixed with Galra. Again, I apologize greatly, your heritage momentarily slipped my mind.”

Shiro gave her a tight smile. “Well, he seems to be alright, so that’s what matters.”

The tour continued. Vargas passed, or at least it felt that long. By the time they finally, finally got back to the Castle, Lance had completely forgotten about the incident with the gas.

Everyone gathered at the bridge so that Allura could lecture...ahem, brief them on the diplomatic meeting they’d be having the next day. Lance and Keith were standing side by side, the former tapping his foot rapidly, about to have a nervous breakdown if the Mullet cleared his throat one more time.

And of course, he did.

“Dude!” Lance exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Stop it with the throat clearing already! What is your problem?”

Keith’s eyebrows knitted together, and he raised one hand to his neck. “Sorry. My throat is just…” He covered his mouth with his jacket sleeve and coughed.

“Our briefing is almost done, and then perhaps you should drink a hydration pouch,” Allura suggested. “However, it will be much easier for me to finish if there are no more interruptions.”

“Sorry,” both boys mumbled in unison.

They fell quiet as Allura resumed, not even any more throat clearing from Keith, though it kinda sounded like he was having to try really hard not to. The breaths he was pulling through his nose were loud and extremely deliberate. Lance was torn between still being annoyed and starting to be concerned, but leaned definitively more toward concerned once his breathing began to stutter both in and out.

Shooting glances out of the corner of his eye, Lance pressed his lips together and wondered if Keith was somehow even paler than usual. There was a strained look on his face, and Lance was debating whether or not he should interrupt again to ask if he was okay when Keith lost his battle to hold everything in and burst into a coughing fit.

The rest of the room fell silent as he doubled over, sounding like he was about to hack up a lung into his sleeve. Shiro crossed to him and rested a hand on his upper back.

“You okay, bud?”

Keith nodded through the last of the coughs, then straightened and swiped his hand across his eyes. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Sorry. ‘m fine.” He sucked in another labored breath, and coughed once more.

Coran edged his way toward the door. “Perhaps I should go get you that hydration pouch now.”

“Yes, please,” Shiro answered for him.

“Sorry, ‘llura. You can -” Keith tried to draw another breath, but it seemed to get stuck in his throat and sent him into another coughing fit.

“Would you quit trying to talk?” Lance protested. “You’re clearly not okay right now.”

“‘m fine,” he whispered, but then his eyes went wide and he froze, his mouth hanging open as if to gasp in more air but the sound of his heavy breaths had completely stopped.

“Keith? Keith!” Shiro shook his shoulder. “Hey, look at me, what’s going on?”

Without further warning, Keith listed to the side, stumbling a few steps until he was falling practically into Lance’s arms. He scrambled to catch him before he slammed into the ground, though they both went down in the process.

“What the heck, Mullet?” Lance would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared. Keith’s head was laying on his shoulder, the rest of his body sprawled out inelegantly in his lap, and his eyes and mouth were still open wide. This close he could just barely make out a faint gurgling noise coming from the back of his throat.

Lance snapped his attention up to Shiro, who was crouched next to them. “He’s not breathing. Shiro, he’s not breathing!”

Their leader bent over with his ear next to Keith’s face, then suddenly scooped him up off of Lance, standing and immediately breaking into a run. The others followed, looking just as alarmed as Lance felt.

“What’s going on?” Allura demanded.

“I don’t know,” Lance replied, “but he needs the infirmary, now. Page Coran!”

He was close on Shiro’s heels when they entered the infirmary and Keith was dropped down onto a cot. His lips had taken on a blue tint, and he was definitely paler than usual this time. Hovering over him, Lance waved his hands around frantically, desperate for something to do to help but unable to think anything past, he’s not breathing he’s not breathing he’s not breathing.

“Here!” Pidge launched herself into his field of vision with something in her hands that she slapped down over Keith’s nose and mouth. An oxygen mask. Lance felt an inkling of relief at seeing the device, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear.

“His throat, though. His throat was...if it was closed up, then he still won’t -”

“I know.” Shiro’s voice was terse, all his attention focused on the boy who might as well be his brother. He stroked his human hand through Keith’s messy black hair, pressing his bangs back from his forehead. “I know. But I don’t...we need Coran in here.”

“He’s on his way,” Allura assured.

“I’m here!” The advisor burst into the room with all his usual gusto, and Lance felt his chest loosen the tiniest bit. Immediately snatching up the scanner, Coran frowned and mumbled to himself as he waved it over Keith’s prone body. After examining the screen for only a tick, he spun around and pointed at a cabinet against the far wall. “Number Five, I need an injection of stavunairalducord!”

As the only one of the humans who could read Altean, Pidge accepted her assignment right away and dashed to the cabinet, rummaging until she found the correct item and bringing it back to Coran just as quickly.

“Thank you, Number Five.” Twirling the needle around in nimble fingers, he popped off the cap and plunged it none too gently into the side of Keith’s neck. Lance flinched and cut his eyes away.

“What is that? What are you doing?” Shiro demanded.

“Number Four has extreme swelling in his throat and lungs, preventing air from passing through. This injection will begin to take the swelling down while we prep him to go into the healing pod.”

Sure enough, as Lance watched, Keith’s chest began rising and falling again, almost imperceptibly. Behind the oxygen mask his mouth relaxed, and his eyes fluttered shut as if in pure joy of being able to breathe. Shiro slumped a bit when he saw the reaction, though his hand never stopped carding through the black hair.

“What does he need the pod for?” Hunk asked, wringing his hands together.

Coran was already methodically beginning to remove Keith’s jacket and gloves. “To clear out the foreign substance that caused this reaction, and also to heal the damage that it caused. Whatever it is, it seems to have started eating away at the lining of his lungs.”

“Foreign substance?” Lance echoed.

Pidge gasped. “The Yadselites’ gas! You know, the...anti-Galra stuff!”

Groaning, Shiro dropped his forehead into his hand. “How could I have forgotten? But I never expected it to take this long to have an effect. I should have brought him back to get checked out right away.”

“He seemed fine, though,” Pidge offered. “It must have something to do with him only being half, or because it was just a tiny amount.”

Coran hummed. “Well, whichever it is, it’s a nasty little bugger. I’d hate to see what would have happened if he had inhaled any more.”

“Is he...gonna be okay?”

Lance had been almost certain that Keith had lost consciousness by that point, but his eyes slitted open then and found Lance’s. His hand twitched, and Lance glanced down to see him giving a weak thumbs up.

Coran chuckled. “Yes, I think he’ll be just fine. That is, if we get him into that pod as soon as we can, so let’s give him some privacy to get changed, shall we?”

Hunk ushered everyone out of the room, eager to let Keith start healing. Lance kept looking back over his shoulder at the pale, still figure on the bed. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be relaxing at all until the Mullet was up on his feet and throwing jabs at him again. The feeling of him collapsing into his arms and the sound of his struggles to breathe would be sticking with him for a long time to come.

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mavericksy · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red

TW: Detailed descriptions of menstruation, gender dysphoria

Summary: Tsuburaba gets his period, and Class 1B try to make him feel better, with varying degrees of success.

AO3 link (text is also below): https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285605

A/N: Sweet comfort fic- I got my period a a few days ago and it was really bothering me this morning. also, there is a major lack of trans tsuburaba content. how could you do this to dysphoria hoodie boy.

SEEING RED

Vlad King shouldered into the locker room and clapped his hands.

“Alright, boys, time to get to the gym!”

At once, the gathered male students looked up and nodded, their conversations dropping to a hush as they hurried to fix their costumes.

He held the door open for them, counting each student as they went into the corridor. As Honenuki left the room, Vlad spotted Monoma loitering at the back, wearing a concerned expression.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asked. Monoma looked behind himself.

“It’s Tsuburaba, sir.”

“Oh?” Thinking on it, Vlad hadn’t spotted the short boy among the rest of the group. “Did he come in today?”

Monoma nodded. “Yes, sir. He’s in the bathroom. He’s having a few…issues.”

“Oh. Should I get the Imodium?”

“It’s not that! Sir, it’s that time of the month.” Vlad continued to frown at him. Monoma sighed. “He’s on his period.”

“He is?”

“I think he got it while he was getting changed in the back- it caught him by surprise. He’s upset.”

“I can imagine. Poor kid. Sometimes I forget he’s…you know.”

“Sir, permission to go to the girl’s locker room. He says he needs a sanitary towel.”

“Permission granted, son.” Monoma nodded and prepared to leave the room. “No funny business when you get there, mind!”

The boy rolled as his eyes as he left. Steeling himself for an awkward discussion, Vlad tip-toed towards the bathroom at the back of the changing room. It was a small, tiled annex, with two closed stalls, two urinals, and a pair of porcelain sinks. A passage to the right led towards the showers. Underneath the gap of one of the toilet cubicles, he spotted shadows moving on the floor. Muffled noises were coming from inside.

He coughed and knocked on the wall next to him. “Tsuburaba? You in here, son?”

The muffled noise suddenly stopped. A moment later, a croaky voice replied, “Yeah.”

“Monoma tells me you’re in a bit of an awkward situation.”

Tsuburaba laughed ruefully, a single sardonic bark that rattled around the walls.

“Do you want to come out and talk about it?”

“I can’t really move right now, sir.”

Drat. There went Vlad King’s patented ‘give them a comforting yet manly hug’ maneuver. Now he’d actually have to make conversation.

“Is everything OK?”

From inside the dim stall, Tsuburaba looked in the direction of Vlad King’s deep voice. His hands were full of wadded-up toilet paper, which he had been using to try and pat his crotch and briefs dry.

“Could be better, sir,” he admitted, squinting at the rust-colored marks across the tissue after he had scuffed it across his bloody underwear. He sighed and threw it between his legs, into the toilet.

“Are you having...cramps or anything?”

“Not right now, no. I’ll probably end up getting them later tonight, though.” He unrolled another strip of tissue. “Sometimes they make it hard to sleep.”

“You got enough painkillers back in the dorms?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Midnight’s on call tonight, if you need her. Do you want me to tell her what’s going on?”

“No, I…” Tsuburaba squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his forehead with his free hand, trying to control his voice as a lump began to rise in his throat. Vlad King’s voice kept coming, over and over, giving him no time to settle. “I’d rather keep this private, sir. If you don’t mind.”

“I get you. Are you going to be OK in class today?”

“I’ll be fine, sir, just so long as I’m not bleeding into my pants all morning!” Tsuburaba snapped. There was silence from outside. He exhaled shakily and placed his head in his hands, feeling another string of blood ooze out of him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, son. You’re going through a lot right now.”

“It’s such a weird feeling,” Tsuburaba said quietly, shivering as he crossed his arms. “I can feel the blood on my skin as it’s coming out, but…it’s like there’s not enough skin, you know? I can feel that something else is supposed to be there, but…it’s not. It’s just flat.” He swallowed. “Sorry, again. That’s TMI.”

“It…” Vlad King didn’t disagree, but Tsuburaba could tell from his careful, measured tone of voice that he was sympathetic. “It’s good to talk about this kind of thing, sometimes- to have a level of awareness about your body. Did I ever tell you about the time I got infected by a parasite?”

Tsuburaba’s eyes widened. He shook his head, then remembered that Vlad couldn’t see him.

“No, sir.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell,” Vlad King laughed. “I was out in the field, fighting off a group of your standard hoodlums. One of them went in for a close-combat attack from behind, and managed to hit my back. I swung him away from me and finished the fight without making too much of it. Then, over the next few days, I had this awful aching sensation in my right shoulder, like I’d thrown it while training.”

“I’ve had that kind of thing all week,” said Tsuburaba, feeling an ache prickle down his own back. “Should have known it was coming from that. Anyway, you were saying?”

“The pain lasted for weeks. I thought I was going nuts- I was tired, I was cranky, but I couldn’t work out what was wrong for the life of me. It wasn’t until I rolled over in bed one night and my wife noticed this golf ball sized protrusion sticking out of my back. We got to an emergency doctor, and she put me under for surgery that same evening- a few hours later, I wake up in her office, and there’s this giant insect squirming around a glass jar next to her computer.”

Tsuburaba choked back a gasp. Always prone to feeling pain as other people described it, he clutched his shoulder, wincing in sympathy.

“That’s crazy, sir!”

“Uh-huh. Turns out it had been part of a plan to put me out of commission- to change up the patrol routes so the gang could launch an attack without me being there. Oh- here’s Monoma.”

“I got a sanitary towel from Kendou,” Monoma’s voice said. Plastic packaging crinkled.

“You’re a lifesaver, bro,” said Tsuburaba, inching towards the door. He looked down at himself and sighed. “Can you push it under the door?”

He saw Monoma’s feet approaching.

“Is everything OK, now, Tsuburaba?” Vlad King asked.

“Yeah, everything should be fine now, thanks,” said Tsuburaba, grabbing the square piece of packaging from Monoma’s hand. “I’ll join everyone in a minute.”

“I’ll see you in the gym, then.”

“Cool. Oh, and sorry for snapping.”

There was a pause. Tsuburaba assumed that Vlad King and Monoma were eyeing each other.

“Don’t worry about it, son,” Vlad said reassuringly. His footsteps began retreating. “I’ll see you boys soon.”

“Do you want me to leave, Tsuba?” asked Monoma. He mulled it over.

“That’s OK,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”

With an apology to his friend, Monoma occupied himself at the urinals while he waited. From inside the stall, there was a tearing noise, followed by a high-pitched rustle. As Monoma went to wash his hands, the stall door clanked open, and Tsuburaba joined him at the sinks. He noticed how he stood with his legs a little apart, trying to rock his hips into a more comfortable position.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

They dried their hands and returned to the changing room. Tsuburaba stopped him before he left.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done today,” he said.

“It’s not a problem- it’s basic decency, really. Besides, Kendou’s the one you should be thanking.”

“I know, but…you didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?” He looked down at his feet. “I’ve got one more favour to ask, by the way. If you don’t mind.”

“Name it.”

“Could you tell me if I get a stain on my pants? Please? They’re pretty thick material, but the colour is light, so…”

“Are you asking if I’ll look at your butt for the rest of the lesson? That’s more than fine by me.” Monoma laughed as Tsuburaba scowled, though he could tell he was biting back a smile. The shorter guy swiped at him.

“Shuddup, will you?”

“I’m sorry!” They both laughed as they emerged into the hallway.

“But seriously, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Class went normally, for the most part. There was definitely a vague knowledge among the group that something was wrong with Tsuburaba, but he couldn’t complain too much about the various sympathetic glances that were being sent in his direction.

Tetsutetsu leaned forward and shook his shoulder.

“You’re the man, bro,” he whispered.

“Heh, thanks,” Tsuburaba said awkwardly, trying to disappear into the back corner of the benches. Tetsutetsu flinched as Kendou shoved him roughly.

“Would you leave him alone?” she hissed.

“I was only trying to-”

“It’s OK!” he said quickly. “Thanks, both of you. I appreciate it.”

Kendou turned to him and nodded, retreating from Tetsutetsu, who gave him a grateful thumbs-up.

The number of students on the benches dwindled as Vlad King organised them into groups, with only ten students on the court at any one time. Finding that he and Kendou were alone together- save for a few other students scattered a little further away- he slid next to her.

“Monoma says you helped me out today,” he said.

“Did he? Oh, with the…”

“Yeah. I just wanted to say thanks.”

“It’s no big deal, really! I’m just glad that we could get everything in order.”

“You and me both.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Swampy.”

With a glance in the other students’ direction, Kendou leaned in. Tsuburaba blushed as she came close, her ponytail brushing his shoulder.

“I got mine too, yesterday evening. I’ve stocked up on chocolate and sad movies if you wanted to hang out later.”

Tsuburaba shook his head. “I can’t do sad things when I’m like this. I’d be a mess. But thanks for the offer.”

“Any time.”

There was a chorus of groans as Kaibara hit the floor, a dodgeball bouncing away from him. On the opposite side of the court, Yanagi stood proudly to one side with her arms half-raised, her teammates screaming praise at her.

As Kaibara had been the last man standing on his team, Vlad King blew his whistle to signal the end of the match.

“Next team, Team B vs Team D!”

Tsuburaba took a moment to check his trousers before standing. He turned to Kendou.

“You’re clean,” she said, before he had even fully opened his mouth. “Good luck!”

He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, heading towards the court. Also up from the benches, Kuroiro joined him as they strode to their side of the court.

“I am so glad we have you,” he said to Tsuburaba. “You’re one of the best players.”

“Tsuburaba vs Yanagi and Monoma,” added Awase, who was making his way to the back of the room, ready to use his quirk to fuse as many accumulated dodgeballs as he could. “It’s a clash of the titans.

The shorter boy offered a quick smile to them both, before focussing his gaze on the opposing team. He began to breathe in deeply, preparing to unleash a slew of defensive walls.

Monoma caught his eye and grinned. He was stood in between Yanagi and Honenuki, which probably meant that Tsuburaba could expect strikes that came from nowhere, and for the ground to suddenly disappear beneath him- if Honenuki went out.

“Are you OK?” Monoma mouthed at him.

“I’m fine,” he mouthed back, watching Monoma’s concern fade and be replaced with a self-assured expression.

Tsuburaba grinned wickedly and fixed his eyes on the line of balls in front of him. He could use his quirk to shunt the balls at Team B before they had time to react, or wait for one of them to lurch forwards, only to slam into an invisible wall of air.

Monoma didn’t know just how closely he was going to have to watch his ass.

Disclaimer (?):

while periods suck, please remember that they are natural and you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of them!

taking male hormones is *not* a 'cure' for menstruation. i've been on t for two years and had my period come back after a year of not having it, hence why i'm sad and wanted to write a comfort fic.

please don't feel like you need to medically transition just because you don't like having a period- there's a risk of you developing real gender dysphoria due to other side effects, and needing to detransition later. i'm saying this because there's not a lot of menstruation-themed content out there, and i don't want people to equate 'periods are annoying' with 'i must be transgender'. please speak to your doctor if you're worried about your cycle or any unusual symptoms.

with that said, godspeed to anybody dealing with their time of the month right now! i hope you have all the chocolate you need!

#bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #class 1b #kosei tsuburaba #trans kosei tsuburaba #tw menstruation #tw menstrual cycle #tw gender dysphoria #tw periods

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k-llama-llama · 4 years

Text

First Encounter

Everglow AU: 7th member

Mya/Enya x Everglow

Mya meets Yuta...with some interesting results.

A/N: ALSO CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR ACCESS TO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT AND EARLY ACCESS (patreon.com/kllamallama)

Requests are OPEN!!!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“You need anything else?”

“Nope, all good.” Mya handed off her ridiculous fur jacket to the stage hand, continuing to make her way backstage. Sihyeon had let her in on the a secret, that there was a staff only kitchen that the idols could borrow snacks from, and she planned on taking full advantage of it.

She’d been invited to guest host, and with that came her own little solo stage. It was just a two minute rap performance, with some basic choreography. They were performing to empty crowds, but Mya had still tried to look her best. For her, that meant a purple mini skirt and matching bandeau top. The orange fur jacket had fit the vibe perfectly, but under the stage lights it was ridiculously hot, so she was glad to be rid of it.

Tugging on the end of one of her blonde pigtails she made her way down the hall, heels clicking as she left the busy area behind and headed into the back halls.

“Sihyeon said left...or did she say right?” Mya cursed herself, assuming her Korean skills had once again robbed her of snacks.

“Shit...this stupid...what am I...”

Hands still twisting her pigtails, Mya peeked her head into a doorway, following the sound of the curses. She looked into what looked like a standard dressing room, empty except for one figure flailing around in the middle of the room. His black shirt was pulled up over his head, tangled with the cords of his mic packs as he tried to untangle himself.

A giggle escaped her.

The figure paused. “Is someone there?”

Caught, Mya decided to at least make herself useful. “Um, yeah. Do you need help?”

“Yes please.” She was pretty sure that the man was slumping in relief. “It’s just, the cord is just wrapped around -”

“I can see it, let me.”

Mya kicked off her shoes and made her way into the room, walking over to the man. He was a lot taller than her, and twisted as she approached.

Mya laughed again. “Just stay still, I’ll just unplug the chord.”

“Thanks. I really thought I was going to die in here and I’m supposed to be backstage in ten minutes.”

“No problem.” Mya unplugged the mic pack from where it was attached to the waistband of his pants, and then reached up to unwind the chord from around the neck of his shirt. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Awesome, thank you.” The boy pulled his shirt over his head and turned around. “I really don’t...oh my god.”

Mya blinked up at him, wondering if it would be weirder to keep staring that the shirtless boy or to look away. He was infuriatingly attractive, so she was inclined to do the first, but also he looked really flustered.

“I...I’m so sorry.” He reached for a robe, pulling it on. “I can’t...where’s the tie for this...I’m sorry I thought you were one of the staff. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” Mya said quietly. “I’m happy to help.”

“Still, you didn’t ask for me to - never mind.” He gave her an awkward smile. “Um, I’m Yuta.” She blinked, recognizing the name as a member of NCT. But she’d never laid eyes on him and certainly hadn’t recognized him with a shirt over his head.

“Oh, I’m Mya.” She held out her hand.

He reached for it.

“NO!” She shouted.

He jumped back, clutching his hand to his chest. “What?”

“No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m not Mya, I’m Enya.” She held her hand out again. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

He carefully shook her hand, looking at her wearily. “Do you not know your name?”

“Enomoto Mya was my name when I promoted with X1.” She explained. “Now I’m with Everglow, so it’s just Enya.”

“Ah, you combined them.” He nodded, before his eyes widened. “Wait, Enomoto? You’re from Japan?”

Mya nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Because I’m Nakamoto Yuta!” He exclaimed in rapid Japanese.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Mya switched easily into her native language, grinning. “I never get to speak Japanese, unless I’m hanging out with...you know, never mind.” She stopped herself before she gave unnecessary details, as she was prone to do.

“I didn’t realize Everglow was performing today.”

“We aren’t. I’m the guest host, so I had a solo stage.” She explained. “I’m sure I’ll see you later when we do the winner announcement. I...obviously knew you guys were performing today.”

“Yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck. His robe was still undone, so Mya kept her gaze aimed up at his face. “I was trying to get my mic off after our practice when you...well...kinda saved me.”

She laughed. “That’s me, always happy to help.” She looked down at her feet.

He looked down too, and then blinked. “Do you not have shoes?”

“I took them off.” She moved back over to the door, picking up the discarded heels. They were bright orange and easily three inches tall, and Yuta took a step back when she held them up.

“See why I didn’t want to wear them?” She laughed.

“Yeah.” He tilted his head to look at them. “Those are worse than the ones they make YinYin wear.”

“YinYin?”

“The only girl in NCT. She’s tiny too, but she doesn’t have to dance in them because she does flips. Do they make you dance in those?”

“No one has ever called me a dancer, so the least I can do is walk pretty and grow a few inches.”

“You aren’t that short though.” He said, even though it was a complete lie.

There was a tentative moment of silence.

“Did that hurt?” Mya finally asked.

“The mic? No, thought I might strangle myself but -”

“No, that.” She pointed.

Only thing was, he was standing a lot closer than she thought, so when she went to point at his belly button she found herself with her index finger resting just above his piercing.

His mouth opened a little. “Um, yeah...I mean...no, not really.”

“Oh.” She pulled her hand back, wishing she had sleeves to hide her hands in. “I wanted to get mine done.”

“Well, it might um...hurt you.” He finished lamely.

“Why would it hurt you and not me?” She looked up at him. He leaned closer, practically standing right above her. Mya just looked down, poking her own belly button through the fabric of her skirt.

“I’m...I have a high pain tolerance.”

“So do I.” She looked straight up at him, meeting his gaze.

“Then you should get it.” He offered a tight smile. “I’m sure it would look good.”

“I know, right?” Mya smiled. “I just need to convince one of the girls to go with me and hold my hand.”

“I could.” He swallowed. “Go with you, I mean.”

Mya wasn’t sure what came over her, but some evil spirit encouraged her to give a little pout. “What, you wouldn’t hold my hand?”

She was pretty sure that Yuta stopped breathing.

“I could do that.” He finally said, his tone quiet.

She gave a tiny smile. “Well then, if I work up the courage to do it, I’ll give you a call.”

“Please do.” He whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head to clear it. “Do you have kakao?”

“I do.” She nodded. “I don’t have my phone on me though, there’s no pockets in this outfit.”

“I have mine.” He pulled it off of the dressing table, opening the app and holding it out to her. “Just enter your name.”

She typed quickly fingernails clicking against the screen. “There you go.” She handed his phone back to him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave a little laugh.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of them quite sure where to go from there.

“You have to be on stage in like five minutes.” Mya finally said.

“And you need to get ready to MC.” He added.

Mya nodded. “I’ll see you later?” She turned towards the door, still carrying her shoes.

“Yeah.” He reached for the black shirt he was supposed to wear. “Mya? I mean, can I call you Mya, or do you prefer Enya?”

“Call me whatever you want.” She flipped a pigtail behind her shoulder, and then gestured to his phone. “Or whenever you want.”

“Right.” He breathed.

“Good luck, Yuta.” She spun, walking out of the room.

“Good luck.” He was so quiet she almost didn’t hear him.

The second she was out of the room, Mya lifted a hand to her cheek. Sure enough, she was hot, and could only imagine how red her face was. She had no idea what had just happened, or what had come over her, only that she was pretty sure that she was happy about it.

“What took you so long?” Sihyeon asked when she entered the dressing room. “Weren’t you going to the kitchen?”

“Hmmm?” Mya sat down in her chair, looking into the mirror as she started to undo her hair. “I decided not to.”

“Aw,” Sihyeon frowned. “I wanted snacks.”

“I found one.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mya said quickly. “Give me my queue cards so I know what to say.”

“We’re introducing NCT next, think you can manage?”

Mya snorted. “I know I can.

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hermionemonica · 3 years

Text

The Road to Us, and Everything in Between: Chapter 3

(This is a no magic AU. There is no existence of the Miraculous or the superheroes in this universe.)

AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

When Marinette woke up later in the day, needless to say, she was very confused to notice that she was in her room, in her bed. However, she didn't have to wonder long, for right then her mother came in through the trapdoor with a plate of macaroons.

“Oh sweetie, you're awake!” she exclaimed with glee.

“Mom, how did I get home?” Marinette asked. “I was supposed to be at the university right now.”

“You felt ill, so the nurse gave you something to put you to sleep. You have been excused from classes today.”

Marinette smiled in acknowledgement, but just then, her eyes fell on her phone lying on the table, just how she had kept it before she went to the university that morning.

“Um, Mom, can I be alone for some time?” Marinette asked. “I don't feel very good yet.”

“Of course, dear,” Sabine said. “I’ll leave the macaroons here on your chaise. Your father made them especially for you, just the way you like.”

After she had left the room, Marinette scrambled down from her bed. Her head felt heavy, and she wondered what exactly the nurse had given her. Well, there were more pressing matters at hand right now. She sat down at her desk and switched her phone on. Nothing more from Nathaniel. Marinette opened up her contacts list. Her finger hovered over Nate's name for a long moment, before she scrolled up and clicked on Alya’s name. She needed to talk to someone who knew. Well, to be fair, her best friend didn't know the whole of it, but Alya knew more than anyone else. The familiar chime only rang once when Alya picked it up.

“Hey Mari!” she said in a cheery voice.

Okay, so Alya was free. That was a relief.

“Hi, Alya.”

Alya straightaway guessed from her voice that something was wrong.

“What happened, Marinette?” Alya went on in a softer voice.

“Uh, me and Nathaniel, we...” Marinette trailed off, because she was not sure how to put it. She didn't want to use the term ‘broke up’, because that would imply at something that never was, and it didn't quite feel right. So she settled on phrasing it in a roundabout way. “It's over with us.”

“You broke up?”

There it was. That dreaded phrase.

Surprisingly though, Alya didn't sound as shocked as Marinette had expected.

“When?” Alya questioned.

“Um, last night, I think. I said some things which I probably wouldn't have said if I wasn't under stress, and he got the wrong side of it. So basically he thinks I don't want to have anything to do with him anymore.”

Alya's reply was something Marinette could never have thought of hearing at such a time.

“It was about time,” Alya stated in a cool, matter-of-fact voice.

“What the hell are you talking about Alya?” Marinette demanded.

“Oh, we all knew this was going to happen someday. Your relationship was starting to turn into something pretty unhealthy for a while, especially for you. But you were too blindly in love with him to realise.”

Okay, what?

“Alya, I don't think this is something you should say now,” Marinette said, under her breath.

“You know me, Marinette. I would rather speak the bitter truth than sugar-coat it with lies. I have been noticing it for some time now, and the only reason that I hadn't told you earlier is that I didn't want to hurt you. But now that you've managed to get yourself out of it, I thought I should tell you, just so you don't do anything stupid and try to go back. I'm sorry, there just wasn't an easy way to say this.”

Marinette felt her breath catch. What was Alya talking about?

“Alya, I'll call you back later. I am not feeling up to this conversation right now.”

"Girl, you’re gonna be okay. That guy didn’t deserve you anyway. This is not your fault."

This isn’t completely his fault either, thought Marinette. Even if what Alya said was true, then Marinette had brought it onto herself. Still, this was a lot to take in, Marinette needed time to think about it.

"I think I need to be alone for a while. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for being there Alya."

"You know I’m always there for you Marinette. Just let me know if you need anything. And please take care."

"I will. Bye."

Unhealthy? How was that even possible? But Alya seemed very convinced, and in the years she had known her, never had Marinette known Alya to be mistaken when she sounded so sure about something. Then again, what did Alya know? She did not know Nathaniel like Marinette did, she had no idea what their relationship was like! Maybe, it was just a misconception that Alya had formed from not knowing all the facts. Because Nathaniel loved... no, loves her. But, a small part of her mind whispered, maybe the reason she felt so lost without Nate’s presence was because she had forgotten how to exist without him. Was that dependence, or was it...? Marinette felt her head growing heavier. Like she had earlier today, before she had passed out. She needed a distraction, anything to divert her mind from this mess, anything.

Her wish was granted, for just then, her phone vibrated in her lap. She shuddered for a moment, silently wishing it wasn't Nathaniel or Alya, and she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn't.

It was a text from... Adrien ? He had never texted her before; even though they had exchanged numbers weeks ago, they had never really used them. Well, she thought, anything would be welcome right now, and she opened the message.

Adrien: Hey, how are you feeling?

Exactly how bad had it got at the university today? Adrien seemed really concerned.

Marinette: I guess I'm doing better. I still feel kind of drowsy, but I guess it is just the effects of whatever the nurse gave me.

Marinette: If you don't mind me asking, could you just tell me how bad did it get with me? I mean, I really can't remember anything, it's all a blur.

Adrien: Wouldn't you rather have your parents talk to you about that?

Marinette: You are scaring me, was it that bad? Am I dying? 😅

Marinette: Hey, can I call you? This texting thing is hurting my head. I can't seem to focus on the screen for too long.

Adrien did not reply right away. Was that too forward of her? Marinette wondered. But she didn't have much time to ponder, because her phone rang as Adrien's name flashed on the screen. He had called her.

“H-hey,” said Marinette.

“Your voice sounds weird. Is it this way over the phone, or are you feeling really sick?” queried Adrien.

“I don't know. I think it because I'm not fully awake yet,” Marinette laughed.

“Should I call back later? I mean, do you need to get some rest?”

“No, I'm fine. Actually, I could use some conversation right now. So, tell me, how much of a mess did I make?”

“Uh... the nurse said you had an anxiety attack.”

Anxiety attack? This was new.

“Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“Was this the first time you had one of these attacks?”

“I think so. I mean, I am prone to anxiety, anyone who knows me can tell you that. But an attack... what did it look like?”

“Um, it was like... y-you were shaking badly, and it looked like you were having trouble breathing and... sorry, I freaked out at that time, and I don't remember much of it.”

“Oh. I don't think I've experienced anything like this before.”

“So it is that bad huh?”

“What?”

“Your boy trouble. You must have it pretty bad if it takes such a toll on you.”

Marinette fell silent. What could she reply to that?

“Hey, if you want to, then you can talk about it,” Adrien urged.

“I don't know, Adrien. We've known each other and been with each other for almost five years, and after all this time, he misunderstood me over such a trivial thing. It hurts to think that he didn't even trust me. And on top of it, it doesn't help that my best friend just told me that she had known that our relationship was starting to go bad anyway, and I had no clue.”

“Ugh, that must be rough.”

“It is. I-I just don't know what to think anymore.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“I haven't. Besides, what is there to talk about? He ended it clear and loud, didn't he? And after what Alya said, I don't think I'm up for negotiating right now.”

“You are right, of course. But you know what? That guy stated how he felt in a message, and ended it on his own terms. But don't you think you deserve your own closure? Don't you think you should make your side known to him? Whatever your relationship was with this person, you had as much right over it as did it. So you need to let him know where you stand, if you want to end it on a clear note.”

Adrien had a point. A very good point, in fact.

“Thanks, Adrien. I guess I needed someone to tell me that.”

“It’s alright. What are friends for?”

“Well, talk to you later?”

“Yeah, later.”

Marinette is such an awesome person, Adrien thought. Even when she was obviously hurting so much, and wasn't in a proper state of mind, she still managed to be kind and sweet. Why would anyone ever want to hurt her?

On the other side of the call, Marinette thought about what Adrien had said. If Nathaniel's actions were upsetting enough for her to have an anxiety attack, then maybe she needed to get everything off her chest. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and picked up the phone again. This time, she was determined when she scrolled through to Nathaniel’s name on her contacts. She waited with anticipation, as the chime ringed over and over, till it reached voicemail. She took a deep breath. Maybe her determination would fade away if she waited too long; it was now or never. So she recorded a voice message for Nathaniel.

“I get that I was a bit too rude last night. And you’re right in a way, this isn’t just about yesterday. But it’s not how you made it out to be. Surely, you have noticed me growing distant over the past few weeks. It was because life is weighing down on me, and I need space to breathe, to feel. If that feels so difficult for you, then I guess this is it. Yes, it pains me so much to see the thing, which I was trying so hard to hold together, crumble down in front of me. All because you insist on being selfish, because you refuse to even try to understand. Well, for so long, all I have thought about is you; now, I choose myself. Goodbye it is.”

After sending the message, she hesitated for a moment. But then she thought, there wasn’t anything left, was there? So she blocked Nathaniel's number. And she blocked him on every media they were connected on. She did not want to hear from him anymore.

Adrien was right. She needed this. And she felt better after this.

When Marinette woke up the next morning, her phone was flooded with messages and notifications. It took her a moment to realise that it was the aftermath of the “End of Relationship" status on Facebook that had automatically propped up after she had blocked Nathaniel. She found it funny, that all these people didn’t even know that it wasn't technically a “break-up". But she was not going to tell them, that was Nathaniel's decision to make. No matter what he had done to her, she had no right to out him like that without warning. So the only option left was to go with the flow. So she pretended that she had actually broken off from a “relationship". The drama went on for more than a month, and maybe through all that time, some part of herself began to believe in the lies that she wove. That she had had a real relationship with Nathaniel, and none of the coming out stuff had happened.

But one can only be in denial for so long.

When one day, Alya said wistfully, “I really want to know what true love feels like,” Marinette responded with “Me too.”

Alya straightened up. “Girl, I mean no offence, but at least you once had your love, Mari. Not like the rest of us.”

That hit a raw chord. Marinette tried to keep her temper in check.

“Al, there are things you don't understand,” she had said in a coarse whisper.

She immediately wished she hadn't made such a statement, because her best friend was not one to let it be.

“What do you mean?” Alya questioned.

For a moment, Marinette wondered if it would really be that bad to tell Alya. She had changed a lot since her days of youth. Alya was now a sensible woman, and she knew what things should be kept secret. Maybe she’ll not tell anyone about this . And Marinette knew for a fact, from how Alya had reacted to Rose and Juleka's relationship, that she was very supportive of anything non-heterosexual. But the voice in her head told her that she'd be breaking Nathaniel's trust that way.

So she replied , “Nothing.”

But Alya was not one to give up so easily. “Oh, c'mon girl! You can't back out like this!”

The familiar feeling of conflict was taking over Marinette's heart.

Her voice shook, as she whispered, “Please Alya, let it be. This is not my secret to share.”

When the tears clouding her vision threatened to roll down, she hung her head to hide her face.

After a few moments of silence, she felt her best friend's warm touch on her shoulder. “Marinette, this is no longer about you proving a point, or my curiosity getting the best of me. This is about you. Whatever it is, it's clearly upsetting you. Talk to me, Mari, let me help you. Trust me.”

Those words broke the last of Marinette's abstinence. “Alya, Nathaniel was never my boyfriend. He has never been in love with me. In fact,” she hesitated, “he is gay.”

Marinette looked at her best friend and realised that she was about to go all Alya on her, yelling and asking questions. So she abruptly said, “No. Please don't say anything.”

Alya pouted, but she understood. She noticed Marinette's hands were shaking badly. Over time, she had grown used to symptoms of Marinette's oncoming anxiety attacks. She wrapped both her arms around the girl, and pulled her close. Marinette relaxed considerably at the gesture, and shifted to lay down with her head in Alya’s lap. As Alya patted her head and rubbed soothing circles on her back, she heard Marinette let out a deep sigh.

It had been so long since Marinette had Alya to comfort her like that. She had almost forgotten how much Alya's presence calmed her. She had missed it. All this while, she had been holding everything inside her, hiding so many truths from everyone. But now, at this moment, she felt so light. She didn't have to lie to her best friend anymore, there was finally someone she could talk to.

After a while, she heard Alya whisper, “You know right, that we need to talk about this some time?”

Marinette just clung on tighter to Alya in response.

Alya smiled and said, “I'll call you when we get home.”

Marinette couldn't have been more glad. Alya understood that talking about it face-to-face might be hard on Marinette, and that was probably why she suggested a phone call.

You really are the best Alya, thought Marinette.

“Do you know what he was making you give up on Marinette?” said Alya into the phone, a couple of hours later.

Of all the things in the world, this wasn't how Marinette had expected Alya to begin the conversation.

“Alya, it wasn't him. He didn't force me into any of this. It was my own call.”

“Really? Wow.”

“Yes, really. After he told me about his sexuality, he gave me a choice to stay or leave.”

“I see.”

Something about the tone of Alya's voice or her manner of speaking felt very unsettling to Marinette.

“You don't sound entirely convinced.”

She heard Alya sigh on the other side. “Run by me what else he had said when you guys had, you know, ‘the talk’.”

Although it had been more than two years, Marinette clearly remembered everything of that conversation. And she remembered how passionately he had talked about Marc.

“Uh, he mostly talked about, um... the person he's actually in love with.”

“Marc, right?”

Marinette stopped in her tracks.

“ Wha -how did you know?”

“It wasn't difficult to figure that out once I knew the main facts. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I never had my suspicions.”

“Woah. I don't know what to say or think right now.”

“You don't have to. Okay, back to our discussion. Tell me whatever he had said about you and your relationship.”

Marinette recounted the entire conversation to Alya. Her best friend already knew, or suspected, most of it. There wasn’t really any point hiding anything from her right now. And if Alya was serious, this could even help her figure some things out. So she gave in. No matter how much it pained her to go over that conversation, she did it.

When she was done, there was a long pause at the other end of the call. For a moment, Marinette thought that maybe she had convinced her best friend out of her ridiculous claims. But Alya’s next words made her realise how wrong she was to think that.

“Girl, that is so messed up!”

No.

What dirt could Alya possibly gather from that conversation? It was pure and true, almost sacred. It was the first time that Nathaniel had been completely honest with her, so why was Alya saying all those things?

Marinette saw that her legs were beginning to shake uncontrollably. Shit. As she began to feel the signs of the now-familiar pounding in her head, she understood that an anxiety attack was on its way. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, and count up to 10. Fortunately, Alya didn't interrupt her while she was having her mini-breakdown. But she had to will some control into herself; the conversation wasn't over yet and there were a lot of questions whose answers she needed.

“Alya, I'm literally on the verge of an anxiety attack right now. Please tell me what's going on in your mind.”

“Okay, so Nathaniel clearly knew that he was your weakness. Your love for him was your Achilles’ heel. So the fact that he warped his entire fucking speech in such a way would certainly tug at the most sensitive chords of your heart. He made you think that you made your own decision, while in reality, he didn’t give you much of a choice.”

Marinette did not want to believe what Alya was saying. Nathaniel would not be that cruel, would he? Would he really use his pain and Marinette's sympathy such?

“Alya, I think you're being way too harsh.”

“Yeah, maybe I am a bit biased. I never was a fan of that guy and how he treated you.”

Just as Marinette was about to sigh in relief though, Alya spoke up again.

“But that does not make what I am saying false. He may not have done it intentionally, but that is what happened. I am a journalist Marinette, I know the significance of truth and facts.”

“But Alya, why?”

At this point, Marinette was just trying to blindly snatch at straws like a drowning person. Any reasoning, however absurd, would be enough for her as long as it put some positive light on the person she had loved.

“Nathaniel loved me, Alya. I know he did. He cared for me.”

“Look here Marinette,” Alya went on in a softer tone. “I have no say in that. Maybe he loved you, maybe he didn't; you're the one who’d know that. But you need to understand this, love isn't always a pure and sacred emotion for everyone. And I don't know how to put this in better words girl, but you are a great catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. And you chose Nathaniel. You adored him. It was bound to get to his head sometime, and I guess that's what happened. He became selfish. Think about it, a boy who is ostracized by the entire class, and you decide to give him attention. You gave him respect, something probably no one had ever given him in a long time. You made him feel good about himself. Of course, he wanted to keep feeling that way, and that's why he wanted to keep you to himself. And once he realised that, I guess that's when his love turned dark.”

Marinette couldn't reply, her voice was choked. She did not know what to think anymore.

“I am sorry, Marinette,” came Alya's voice.

After a few more minutes of silence, in which Alya patiently waited for Marinette to get herself together, Marinette finally spoke up.

“Does that mean every person I get close with will end up manipulating me?”

“No Marinette! Please don't think like that! Just because it did not work out with one person, doesn't mean it won’t with anyone else.”

“How do I know? I gave my everything to Nathaniel, and yet it went all wrong!”

Alya paused for a moment. “Maybe that's where you were wrong. Don't give your all to someone unless they are ready to do the same for you.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #my fic #the road to us and everything in between #chapter 3 #no magic au #alternate universe - no powers #marinette dupain cheng #nathaniel kurtzberg #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #sabine cheng #adrienette #slow burn

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