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90spumkin · 3 years

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Masterpiece

Summary: Who knew art could lead to an awkward meeting that would later lead to beautiful relationship.

A/N: I know I said I would post this Friday, but oh well here we are. All inserted pictures are from Pinterest. I absolutely loved writing this so please send me your feedback.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Artist! Reader

Warnings: swearing, implied/slightly descriptive smut, mention of alcohol and addiction

Word Count: 2.8K

Spencer doesn’t know how long he had been zoned out not listening to a word Emily said to him. They were standing in an obnoxiously long line at their favorite coffee shop. Spencer was admiring the art in front of him, the way the yellows and oranges flowed together was mesmerizing. They were so mesmerizing that Spencer didn’t realize the art was on the back pocket of the stranger’s shorts standing in line in front of them.

It wasn’t until Emily nudge Spencer’s shoulder, “Quit looking at that girl’s ass!” Spencer saw where Emily was pointing as she spoke. As he went to say, “I was not checking out her ass.”, the stranger with the mesmerizing art on her ass turned around to see the raven haired woman pointing down at the lower part of her body and the tall curly haired man blushing as he was caught in the act.

The woman smirked at them both and said, “Well my shorts do say ‘this butt is art’ so I guess technically you were just taking in all its beauty.” This made Emily snort and Spencer stutter. He tried to stutter out an apology, but by the time his brain allowed him to access words again Emily’s phone rang loudly.

She answered quickly and hung up just as fast, “I have to go to a meeting apparently. Sometimes I hate being the boss. I’ll catch up with you later, Spencer.” And with that she was gone, leaving Spencer there with the still smirking woman.

“You know the least you could do is buy my coffee to make up for this adorable fiasco.” She said causing Spencer to blush. He nodded his head and said, “Yes of course. I’m really sorry about all that. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid by the way.”

She smiled at him as he went to stand beside her in line, “Oh doctor, fascinating. I’m y/n.”

Once they had finally gotten their coffee and found a small table, conversation between the two flowed so effortlessly. “So, doctor, huh? Care to share with the class what kind?” Y/n asked as she took a sip of her dark beverage.

Spencer chuckled, “I have PhD’s in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering along with BA’s in psychology, sociology, and philosophy. I’m not a doctor who works in a hospital, but one who works in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.” Y/n smiled at him over her cup, “That kind of makes sense you look like a very intelligent man. Plus, you look way better in a cardigan than you probably would in scrubs.”

Their conversation went on without a hitch, no moments of awkward silence. They talked about their careers, y/n explained how she was an artist and Spencer adored the way she lit up as she talked. They constantly were bouncing ideas and questions off one another. The conversations stretched over many different topics, each just as interesting as the last. Y/n even listened and question Spencer on several of his fact dumps.

They both seemed to have forgotten the outside world existed until Spencer happened to notice the sun setting through the coffee shop windows. As he admired the colors in the sky he said, “The sky is always so lovely at sunset, but I hate that it could mean the end of this.”

He looked back at y/n who was smiling at him. “Okay I don’t usually invite strange men to my home, but would you like to come see some of my art that I’ve been working on?” Spencer smirked and narrowed his eyes, “You think I’m strange?” Y/n laughed, “Only in the best way.”

The first thing Spencer did when he entered y/n incredibly spacious apartment was admire all the art lining the walls. He had thought the art displayed on her jean shorts was mesmerizing, but the art that was in front of him now was simply breathtaking.

Spencer walked the walls, admiring and analyzing each piece. Y/n stood beside him as he smiled at the painting of a cow. She laughed softly as she spoke, “There is always a story behind each of my paintings. Some are silly, some are painful. However, this one happens to be my favorite. I grew up on a farm and I had a cow named Milky” She looked at Spencer who was trying to hide a laugh, “Hey I was 8! Anyways she was my best friend. It was funny when I first started to draw and paint, I would always use her as a model. Sometimes it seemed as if she was posing for me.”

Spencer didn’t take his eyes off y/n the whole time she was talking. Once y/n finished her story she looked at Spencer. Both of their smiles growing bigger. He looked back at the painting and said, “You know in another life I would love to be a cowboy with cows and other animals on a small ranch somewhere.”

Y/n giggled, “Would you name one of your cows Milky?” Spencer looked at her fondly and said, “For you, I would.”

Spencer turned his head to the right and noticed a canvas with several different shades of red bleeding into one another, there was broken glass scattered across it. He made his way closer, he turned towards y/n and asked, “What’s the story behind this one?”

Y/n’s eyes held a hint of sadness as she drew in a deep breath. She was hesitant at first but finally explained, “The glass is broken beer bottles, I was- am an alcoholic. I am currently 5 years sober, almost 6 now. I made this to remind myself of all the hate and pain drinking brought to my life” Y/n turned towards Spencer expecting him not to understand, but instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sobriety chip.

Y/n’s eyes started to tear up at the fact that someone finally wasn’t judging her but understanding her. She too pulled out a chip and both y/n and Spencer let out laughs full of pain but also full happiness. Spencer reached out a hand and placed it on y/n’s cheek. His thumb ran smoothly across her face to wipe a tear that had escaped.

When Spencer spoke again his words were soft, “Out of all this art, I think you are the one true masterpiece.”

One minute they were staring into one another’s eyes, and the next they were getting lost in the feel of the other’s lips neither one really sure when they had made it to y/n’s bedroom. Spencer held y/n against him firmly, but it felt delicate all at once. His fingers traced over every edge and curve of her body bringing sounds of pleasure from her beautiful lips.

Spencer planted soft kisses across y/n’s body as if he were painting and her body was his canvas. With every roll of Spencer’s hips, flashes of color seemed to blind him. When y/n arched her back, Spencer let her know she was more beautiful than any art piece.

The next morning, Spencer woke up to the sun shining through the windows. He felt y/n stir next to him, he couldn’t help but take in how lovely she looked. The sun seemed to only amplify her beauty.

Y/n opened her eyes to find Spencer staring at her. She smirked and closed her eyes again, curling up closer to him, “You’re staring.” Spencer chuckled causing vibrations to run through his chest making y/n giggle. “I’m admiring.” Spencer told her.

Y/n sat up to stretch, the sheets falling around her making her look like a sculpture of a goddess. She smiled down at him and scrunched up her nose “Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever you say.”

While they started to dress, well y/n was getting dressed Spencer was still looking for his shirt, he noticed the shorts y/n was putting on had art on them just like the ones before. However, these were not shades of yellow and orange. These shorts had little planets painted on them.

Y/n turned around to see Spencer’s eyes once again focused on her ass, “Why are you smiling like that?” At her question Spencer let out the laugh he was holding in as he said, “Ummm- well- it’s just that- your ass is out of this world.”

Y/n snorted and threw a pillow towards Spencer who actually caught it, “Oh the doctors got jokes this morning.”

Spencer spotted his shirt in the floor and as he bent over to get it, he said, “Not jokes, facts.” This only made y/n smile more.

Y/n watched the muscles in Spencer’s back flex as he fixed his shirt to put it on. Right before he put it over his head she asked, “Can I- can I paint something on your back?”

Spencer stopped all movements to look at y/n, he noticed the blush tinting her cheeks. His heart seemed to scream with emotions. Spencer through his shirt back on the ground and asked, “Where do you want me?” Y/n giggled and pointed to the bed.

Y/n had been straddling Spencer’s back for about 15-to-20-minute minutes when he no longer felt the softness of the paintbrush against his skin. Y/n had been humming while she worked and with the gentleness of each stroke of the brush, Spencer kept dozing off.

Y/n removed herself from Spencer causing him to turn his head to look up at her, she was smiling so brightly Spencer never wanted to look away. Y/n was staring down at the work on Spencer’s back and jumped slightly when he asked, “Can I see it?”

“Oh yes! Of course!”, she rushed to put down her paints and brushes. Y/n grabbed Spencer’s hand and pulled him towards the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Before handing him the handheld mirror she said, “Close your eyes. I’m going to count to 3.” Spencer just chuckled and nodded.

“1…”

“…2…”

“…3”

Spencer opened his eyes and let out a gasp. The art that now covered his back was simple but so pretty. There were no defined lines, the colors overlapped in some places which just made it all the more beautiful. He looked from the mirror to y/n to see her hands clasped together and held against her mouth. She moved her hands slightly to ask, “So, what do you think?” Spencer looked back at the mirror and said, “I never want to take it off.”

After the time Spencer spent with y/n he was scared he would never see or talk to her again. Right after she revealed the painting she had done on his back, Emily called him with a new case. He ran out of there so fast he didn’t have time to remove the paint or give y/n his number. The plane ride was slightly uncomfortable with his clothes sticking to the paint.

However, it turned out the universe was on his side. They were leaving one case going straight to another, so Spencer’s spirits were kind of in shambles and his mind was consumed with thoughts of y/n. His sadness was starting to take over his mood when his rarely used cell phoned chimed, signaling that he just received a text.

Hi, doc. It’s your favorite artist. I hope it isn’t weird I’m texting you. I got a call from someone named Penelope. She said Emily thought you would like to hear from me.

Spencer looked over towards Emily who was smirking as she read over the case file, she knew who was texting him. Spencer just shook his head as he typed out his response, smiling the whole time.

Hello, y/n. That would be my best friends medaling in my life. Luckily, this time they were right.

Y/n response came back fast, and Spencer chuckled softly imagining the teasing look she was probably making as she asked-

This time?

That is a story for another time.

Over the course of the several weeks Spencer was gone, Y/n and Spencer texted every chance they got. A lot of the times Spencer would be too busy and would see messages from y/n he had gotten through the day.

I was running late this morning due to me having terrible time management skills and well- I went to brunch with paint completely covering my clothes.

Ha look what I did. I’m starting to think I’m the real genius here. click here for image

SPENCER REID. DID YOU REALLY HAVE PENELOPE GO BUY ME THIS AND BRING IT TO ME?!?! I love it! Thank you! click here for image

Spencer would always laugh and respond every time he got the chance. One night he was actually able to call her.

“Hello?”

“Are not sure how to answer a phone or are you questioning if I’m really calling you?” Spencer teased.

“Well, isn’t someone feeling sassy today.” Y/n laughed; she was overwhelmingly happy to hear his voice.

They spent most of the night just catching up. Y/n never once asked about the case and for that Spencer was thankful. Spencer saw the sun start to rise and realized what time it was.

“I should probably try and get at least a few hours of sleep.” Spencer said into the phone. He heard her gasp and then frantically started apologizing, “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I was just so happy to talk to you I didn’t realize. I-“

Spencer cut her off with a “Hey. It perfectly okay. I love talking to you. If it were possible, I would never sleep if it meant I could talk to you forever.”

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling, “Well guess what doc. You’re kind of stuck with me get ready for me to never stop talking.” Spencer laughed softly, “I am definitely okay with that.”

As soon as the jet landed, Spencer texted y/n to let her know they were back. What he didn’t expect was for her to be standing in the bullpen with Penelope. Spencer couldn’t help but practically sprint to her, ignoring the knowing looks from his teammates.

When reached her, he wrapped her in a hug. Y/n giggled as she hugged him back. When they pulled apart Spencer asked, “What are you doing here?” Y/n shrugged and looked towards Penelope who had left her side to join the others and said, “Reasons.” She looked back at Spencer and winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head as he wrapped her in another hug.

Spencer and y/n left with Spencer promising to finish the paperwork first thing the following week. Once they were outside y/n turned to Spencer and said, “Okay so the main reason I couldn’t wait any longer to see you is I want to ask you something?”

Spencer turned his head and squinted his eyes, “Should I be scared?” Y/n barked out a laugh and grabbed Spencer’s hand. He stared where their hands were joined. Y/n must have thought he didn’t want to hold her hand because she noticed him staring and let go.

Y/n became a little nervous as she asked, “I- I wanted to ask you to be my plus one at an art show tomorrow. This will be the second art show my work has been in and I’m extremely nervous and would love for you to be there.”

Spencer smiled, feeling beyond flattered that she would want him there. He grabbed her hand the same way she had before and said, “I would love nothing more.”

That following night at the art show Spencer knew for certain he was completely consumed with feelings for y/n. He couldn’t help but to admire how her face lit up every time she talked about her work with other guests. It fills him with pride every time she would turn away the champagne that is offered. What really sets his heart ablaze is how y/n would reach for his hand every time she moved on to another art piece or to speak to someone else. It was as if y/n wanted, needed him. Whether it was for comfort or confidence Spencer was happy to be either of those things for her.

Towards the end of the night Spencer and y/n had finally found a moment to be alone. They stood in front of a painting that kind of reminded Spencer of the mermaid from that one Disney movie Penelope made him watch.

Y/n must have thought so also because as she looked at the painting she said, “You know I am really glad you have become a part of my world.” Y/n turned her head to look at Spencer there was a gleam in her eye. Spencer responded by saying, “Is there any way I can always be a part of your world?”

Y/n responded by kissing Spencer, putting ever amount of emotion she felt into it. The kiss was more vibrant and meaningful than any art she could ever dream of creating.

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galaxytastes · 3 years

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Jumin’s Birthday

Hi! This is my first post and, rightfully so, it will be a “little” 10 page long “drabble”. It’s pretty self indulgent and non-romantic. I’m a sucker for angst and platonic affection, so buckle up, simps. Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 3033

TW: Alcohol, mention of death.

CW: Spoilers for the secret endings/Saeyoung’s after end

Jumin Han has always been a curious person when it came to commoner practices. Whether it be family traditions, silly superstitions, or childlike games; all of it intrigues the man like nothing else. Even as a child, despite his privileged and sheltered upbringing, Jumin still felt the temptation to explore the world of the common folk. And who better to experience the unknown than with his best friend? The two would often find themselves lost in their own world. A world without responsibility. A world without heirs, businessmen or conglomerates. A world where two boys could be just that; boys.

But, life is not so simple. Summers and winters pass. With time came more responsibilities and adulthood pressures. Long felt the days of childhood; that which there was not much to begin with. Despite the challenges and tribulations life threw at the pair, one tradition remains unshaken by time. Birthdays.

Slender fingers wrap impatiently around his Rolex as Jumin checks the clock. He sighs in annoyance, noticing how quickly the day flew by. On most work days, the director can barely wait to get out the door. While he certainly didn’t dislike his office, he much preferred most anywhere else once the clock ticked past 6 pm. But today was different. Today was October 5th.

The dark haired man pinches the skin between his eyes and only looks up from his desk upon hearing the familiar clicking of heels up his office hallway. Jaehee knocks gently at the door and peers in from around the corner. The woman has a concerned look in her warm eyes, but Jumin can’t begin to worry about what was the matter.

“Yes, Assistant Kang. Have you come to bother me more about Saeyoung’s complaints over my lack of celebrations this evening?” Jumin speaks to his assistant, his voice icey cold. “I understand, Mr. Han. I… did come in here to talk about that, but not because of Saeyoung. It’s just… it’s 7 pm and you’re still here. It’s your birthday, and you say you have plans. I was wondering w-” “I’m well aware of what today is.” The director hisses as his hands clench together on the wood desk. He sucks in a quick breath and immediately backpedals, offering Jaehee an apologetic look. “Forgive me. I’ve been getting bothered about this day for… weeks now.” The director sighs and stands from the desk, making no move to hurry himself on gathering his things.

“No need for apologies, sir. I completely understand. I’m sure you’ve heard enough pushing from the others.” Jaehee dismisses his coldness and grabs his jacket from the stand near the door. She meets him halfway across the room and gives his arm a comforting squeeze as she hands him the coat.

“I think everyone just wants to share today with you since we truly care. So, if you change your mind, do let us know, please?” The brunette woman smiles sadly at her boss, earning her a weak smile from him in return. His heart warms a bit at her genuine words and he almost wishes to take her up on her offer. But, he made a promise to a friend for this evening. As always, Jumin Han is a man of his word.

“I will. Thank you, Assistant Kang.”

The ride to the venue is quiet, and most of the time Jumin prefers it this way. His days are loud and chaotic, full of phone calls and stuffy conversations. His backseat oasis behind his trusty Driver Kim is normally a breath of fresh air. But, tonight, it feels suffocating. Both hands rake through his thick hair and he quietly wades in the painful silence. As if on cue, a voice perks up from the driver’s seat. “Mr. Han. I’ve prepared the supplies for your evening. I assume it will be to your liking?” Driver Kim meets Jumin’s unusually scrambled gaze, and the tightness in the director’s chest loosens just enough to allow him another deep breath.

“I appreciate you, Driver Kim. I’m sure it looks beautiful.” Jumin nods gratefully to the older man. “Did you happen to retrieve the bottle I’d set aside for this evening?”

“Of course. It’s wrapped in the basket along with some other things I thought would pair well with the wine. You have exquisite taste as always, Mr. Han.” The man’s eyes crinkle behind his glasses as he clicks his turn signal to pull to a stop.

“Thank you again… Ah. We’re here already?” Jumin looks out the window, admiring the landscape lit beautifully by the setting sun. “Right on schedule. The sun will set the mood for a lovely birthday evening.” Driver Kim hums as he fishes something from his coat pocket. He turns in his chair and reaches to the backseat, holding a small box with a ribbon atop of it. “This one isn’t for you, young director. So, don’t go peeking until he gets to see it first.” Jumin chuckles and nods, gently taking the small box from the other man. The driver moves to let out his employer, but Jumin waves him dismissively. “We will not be too long. I’m not one to fuss over birthday celebrations.” The director smooths out his suit jacket and pant legs before opening up the car door. “I know, Mr. Han. Take all the time you need. Tell him I say hello, and happy belated birthday.” Driver Kim keeps his gaze on the horizon ahead of him, wetness stinging the old man’s eyes. Jumin actively ignores the sudden show of emotion and uses his free hand to shut the door.

Tiny lights sparkle along the trail up through the finely landscaped hill, leading Jumin directly to his destination. Clammy hands hold onto the tiny gift tightly as he continues along the rocky trail. Once he reaches the top, he strays from the path to greet his friend. His chest storms with emotion and dark eyes widen as he counts each step. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. His breath sounds too loud in his ears, and he’s sure his heart is beating much too fast. Suddenly, he wishes to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but anywhere. But, Jumin Han is a man of his word. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Oxfords continue to pad across the grass and eventually come to a slow stop. “Ten.” Jumin breathes aloud. “Hello, old friend.”

Jumin’s mouth remains open as he goes to continue greeting the other before he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. A checkered blanket, red and white, is delicately laid out in the plush, green grass. A picnic basket brimming with all sorts of delicacies is centered on the blanket, along with another smaller basket, cushioning two crystal glasses. Candles flicker over petals of flowers, casting a glow to compete with the setting sun. “It’s like something from a film. This is…” Jumin lets out a breathless laugh as he eases himself onto the blanket. “This is beautiful.”

Jumin wastes no time in exploring the basket prepared for the two. The smile never leaves his lips as he pushes past fine cheeses, chocolates and a beautifully decorated cake. He lets out a little “ah-ha” upon finding the thing both men would enjoy more than anything. “Now, this is more like it, hm?” Jumin wriggles out the vintage bottle, holding it up for the both of them to admire. “Henschke, Hill of Grace, Shiraz. 1994, if I recall correctly? Australians know their reds.” With a skillful hand, Jumin uncorks the bottle and pours the red liquid into the fine crystal glasses. The aroma of the wine fills the evening air between them, and for a moment, Jumin feels lighter. The weight of the day melts away in the twilight’s embrace. Perhaps birthdays can just be birthdays. Jumin muses to himself as he wraps his fingers around the stem of the glass. He scoots slowly across the blanket to hand the drink to the other man. Perhaps it is alright for him to enjoy himself this way. The crystal is set down with great care onto the stone and Jumin uses the wrist of his jacket to smudge away any thumb prints he may have left. His vision blurs as he clinks the glasses together. The sound is familiar, but in a very different way now. Lonely.

The other glass is still. No hand reaches to join him in the toast. No voice returns his greeting. No smile returns his grin. Jumin’s black eyes blink and he swallows back the pain that threatens to lurch from his stomach. He raises his drink between himself and the headstone and tosses back the entire glassful. The wine burns his throat and he is grateful for the pain.

“Happy belated birthday, V. And, as you would surely remind me. ‘Oh, it’s your birthday. Quit pretending it's not, Jumin.’” The man’s voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. Please, keep it together. He wills himself to hold on as he continues. “I don’t care much for my birthday. But, I promised you I would make time for my birthday if it meant I could celebrate yours.”

For the next few minutes, Jumin forces small talk with the stone. He talks of work. He talks of Elizabeth. He reaches desperately into the backs of his mind to talk about every nonsensical thing he could imagine, avoiding the things he wishes to scream out.

“Ah. I should update you on how the RFA is doing.” Jumin leans back on his elbows, horizontal with his friend’s grave. He looks up at the stars, allowing himself to instead imagine V there next to him; laying on his side as he listens to Jumin in attentive silence. The thought warms his cheeks and his heart. “Assistant Kang has been especially… gentle since the incident. Even Zen has begun showing me a side to him I never expected. He’s… kind. Yoosung, on the other hand… He has matured in a way I was not expecting. He misses you…” Jumin clears his throat once more before he continues. “Saeyoung and Saeran are doing very well. Both of them speak of you often. The twins and MC live together, all under one roof, as you always wished for. You’d be so proud, V.” Jumin shakily inhales as his lips tremble around his fourth glass. The tears that well in his eyes finally spill over onto his pale cheeks as he finishes off another drink.

So many things are left unsaid. So many angry, sad and desperate questions of why and how. Jumin sets the glass down and sits up, pushing his hand against his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes him. He should be here, pulling the glass from me, telling me I’ve had enough. He should be here to slug my arm around his shoulder. He should be here. No one but him should be here. Why, V? Why did you leave? The silence is louder than ever as Jumin attempts to calm himself down with a deep breath, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his cheeks. While the pain still clings to every inch of the man’s body like a bed of nails, Jumin swallows it back to properly finish his evening. “I almost forgot. Driver Kim wishes for me to give you this belated birthday gift. On my birthday, of all days.” Jumin sniffles with a smile as he fishes out the small box to set down on the memorial stone. He carefully unwraps the brightly colored ribbon and wriggles open the box. “Here, I will open it for you. Driver Kim has excellent taste in gifts. Perhaps it is a matching cufflink to my own. They’re designer, you know. And-” Jumin’s voice catches in his throat as the top of the box pops open. Cushioned inside a bed of white tissue paper is a small photo frame; no bigger than the palm of his hand. In the frame stares back two boys wearing birthday hats in front of a cake. Happy birthday, J & J is written across the cake in cursive writing. Jumin bites the inside of his cheek as a final tear escapes from him. The boys look like complete strangers. Both so innocent; so unaware of what the future will hold for them. Young Jihyun’s eyes are crinkled in a smile and his toothy grin takes up nearly half his face. Young Jumin smiles just as wide, but his eyes are wide open and looking directly at his friend. Cheeks flushed red, black and teal hair a complete tangled mess. They were happy. “We’ve changed, but not much. I loved you then, and I love you now.” Jumin whispers to V as he carefully sets down the frame along with all the other flowers and trinkets left scattered around the grave. His hand traces across the name etched into the stone slab and he uses the other hand to finish the wine directly from the bottle. “‘Happy birthday, Jumin.’” The director whispers into the lips of the bottle as he drains the last drops.

The car ride home is quiet. Driver Kim helps a drunken Jumin into the car, taking no time at all to clean up the picnic and wine glasses. The shared silence between the two men is comfortable and calm. No words are shared with the driver and the director. Driver Kim simply hands the man a handkerchief and drives him back to his penthouse.

Jumin’s eyes sting from the tears and his legs stumble as he steps from the car. He quietly thanks his driver who helps him up to the penthouse and fumbles with the keypad to unlock the door. Jumin exhales into the quiet room, letting the darkness consume him. His hand comes to rest on the center of his chest, and he takes a moment to appreciate the lighter feeling in his torso. The pain is less like broken glass now, more like the remnants of a broken mirror. The sharp and painful pieces have been removed, leaving the frame of what once was. It’s obvious something shattered the mirror, and a few bits of glass are left behind. But, the danger of the pain has been cleared away.

“Shhh. Don’t yell, you’ll scare him. He looks sleepy.” A voice whispers from the kitchen. “How about you shut up and say surprise like we practiced? We’ve been here for an hour now, my legs hurt from squatting.” Another deeper voice grumbles in reply.

“Hm?” Jumin drunkenly stumbles further into his seemingly empty penthouse as his tired eyes scan the dark room.

“Can everyone at least attempt to remain quiet?” Another softer voice sighs.

“Saeyoung, this was a stupid idea. Put his cat down.” A voice exclaims, accompanied by a smack and a familiar yelp.

“Hey! That’s my job!” A woman giggles and another smack echoes through the penthouse.

“Well, now I feel left out.” A man’s voice speaks, adding on another, more intense smack sound. “GAH! Okay, okay. Princess, we’ll catch up later. Go see your daddy. He needs a birthday hug.” This voice, he recognizes immediately, and his eyes fly wide open as he reaches for the light switch. “Saeyoung?! What?!” Jumin shouts as he squints into the bright light.

“Wah! SURPRISE!” “Hehe! Surprise, Jumin!” Saeyoung and MC screech, dressed to impress, both sporting white cat ears and paws. “Surprise, Jumin!! Woo-hoo!” Yoosung pops up from behind the counter, tossing an armful of balloons into the air.

“Jesus. Well, surprise, trust-fund-kid.” Zen leans from around the sofa, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Sorry about all this.” The albino laughs and rubs the back of his neck.

“I was dragged here without my consent. Do not blame me for the home invasion.” Vanderwood growls from next to MC, winning another giggle from the girl and her fiancé.

“Surprise, Jumin Han. I apologize for my brother breaking into your home.” Saeran smiles, shoving his twin away from the white cat as she scuttles to her owner’s side. “Though, I may have helped a little.” Jumin leans down to wrap Elizabeth in his arms as his mouth hangs open in shock. Each face looks back, expectantly and worried.

“Is he okay?” Yoosung whines, slowly inching closer to Jumin as his eyes dart from person to person. “Is he having a heart attack?!” “Yes.” Saeyoung says confidently, his cat paws resting on his hips. MC nods with him, looking to Yoosung with mock concern.

“No.” Saeran, Vanderwood and Jaehee reply in a harmony, sharing looks of annoyance. “I know you wanted to be alone after your evening with him but…” Jaehee stood from behind a chair, offering an apologetic smile. “No.” Jumin interrupts her, shaking his head in disbelief.

Each member of the RFA continues to stare at the man as he wobbles and before anyone can say a word, the director sets his princess down and lurches forward.

With arms wide open, he embraces his friends. With no reservations, no walls of emotions, no tightly wound strings. He holds his friends and finally inhales a full breath of air as each friend wraps their arms back around him.

Sure, he’s drunk. Very drunk. Sure, he will regret and deny everything tomorrow morning. But tonight, Jumin will laugh with his friends. He will laugh till he cries, indulge in birthday cake, glare as the redheaded twins crown him with matching cat ears. He will open silly and thoughtful gifts and read cheesy and stupid birthday cards. He will refuse to sing karaoke, but instead watch and clap along as Zen and Saeran have a battle of the bands moment. Jumin smiles and laughs to himself, feeling an unseen hand wrap around his shoulders. He closes his eyes and pictures V there, smiling along with him. “Thank you for allowing yourself to enjoy today,” he would probably whisper to his friend. “You deserve this.” Jumin allows himself to believe his friend’s memory. This is what he would have wanted. “Happy birthday, Jumin!!” The RFA cheers together as the song comes to an end, the room lit by smiles and camera flashes.

And a happy birthday it was, indeed.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fic #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger headcanons #mysmes #mysme #angST #jumin han #jumin mystic messenger #jumin fanfic #juminhan #jumin #fanfiction #vumin #kinda #saeyoung x mc #sorta

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thotsforvillainrights · 3 years

Text

~Big Baby Sick Baby~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

@zuffer-weird-girl I def wanted to post this waaay earlier but I was just too beat to do it. I would like to contribute to the sick Kai headcanon pool asap lol)

One of the main reasons you weren’t having/adopting kids anytime soon was because sometimes you were stuck seemingly raising a grown man yourself. How unfortunate for Pops who asks you for grandkids on the daily! You’d need to put it on hold especially considering the fact that Kai was not as mature as he let off to be all the time. One of the times was now.

You stood with your hand on your side while the other held a bottle of semi thick, smooth liquid to be drank. You tapped your foot impatiently as he grumbled and looked up at you. “I’m not taking that stuff so you can piss off immediately.” He wasn’t usually this blunt with you...well not more than you’re already used to of course, but today was different. Today he was sick and by God it reflected on his expressions, appearance, and actions as well. He was sluggish, slow and bumbling. It was shocking to most men to see him make so many mistakes. On top of that, he had refused to eat or drink along with announcing a headache as well. His eyes were lackluster and held their share of baggage underneath, creating dark circles. Even his skin was noticeably more pale today. Anyone with eyes could see the Capo was sick but in case this wasn’t enough to see with eyes, you could hear it in the way he spoke with a rasp and by the various couching and sneezing fits as well. “Chisaki please, I’m begging you here.” You pleaded with him and he scoffed from his desk. He paused trying to do his work and look up at you with enough annoyance that you would’ve thought he was blaming you for this. “I’m fine damn it. I’m not sick, I can’t be sick. Look at all the precautions I take.” He waved his hands dramatically and you sighed. “Kai please...everyone here knows you’re sick. I can tell too. Not to be rude but you literally look like shit right now. Can you please just cooperate just this once? I’ll give you anything you want if you just come with me.” You tried to negotiate/bargain with him but he wasn’t having it. “And neglect my work? Absolutely not, kiss my ass.” This would be the equivalent of a child refusing bedtime.

Well fine. If he was going to act like a child then you would have to treat him like one...

“Kai Chisaki if you don’t get your ass up and come with me to the surface I WILL TELL POPS.” He paused for a moment and thought this though. Pops would most definitely tell all the men to halt the business for today and send EVERYONE home. Pops may have passed the Hassaikai crown to him, but the old man was still behind the scene taking over from time to time after self proclaimed retirement. Pops would also be the one to come down to his office and grab him by the ear and literally yank him up to the surface. He sighed and slowly stood up, reluctance clear by the way he glared at you. “Fine.” He grumbled while shutting down his operations and calling it a day. You breathed a silent sigh in relief as he trailed behind you to the upper layer and to your bedroom. Once inside, he leaned against the door and watched as you prepared the bed for him. “Don’t just look at me, silly! Go on, go get in the shower. Drop this on the floor when you get in there, okay?” You reached into a plastic grocery bag and handed him a vapo-shower tablet packet. “When did you get this?” He asked with genuine curiosity. “Hmmm? Oh! I actually noticed you earlier this morning and how you were behaving. I went out to the store real quick and picked up some important stuff because I planned on getting you in here today. Now go shower.” You kissed his cheek and he complied. Once out of the shower, he dressed in his pajamas and laid on the bed where you prepared a spot for him. By now you had the lights off with the curtains and blinds closed. There were some dim nightlights glowing in their usual spot, and the humidifier was running as well.

His tired eyes carefully watched you dig through the plastic bag and pull out various items: a thermometer with disposable sleeves/covers, chicken noddle soup, ginger ale, saltines, a set of three simple face towels, aloe infused fuzzy socks, and some unfrozen popsicles. Not to mention the liquid medicine sitting next to what looked like ibuprofen. “My angel, have you become my health care provider?” He pathetically flirted with you as you rolled your eyes. “Oh hush. Even if I did, you couldn’t be flirting with me like this in here anyway. Doctors can’t have relationships with patients...right?” He chuckled at your pondering and you looked down at him with a smile. “Enough of that haha. Let’s try this real quick, okay?” You reached for his lips with the thermometer and he complied. His temp wasn’t too bad. He was running a low grade fever but knowing how rare it is for Chisaki of all people to get sick, of course he would be feeling like dying at the moment. You started by pouring the grape flavored medicine onto a spoon and holding it towards. “No, I-” as soon as he opened his mouth to deny it, you shoved it inside and he was forced to swallow. His face afterward was priceless. “That tasted like absolute shit. Please never give it to me again or else.” He threated and you rolled your eyes. “Or else what? What can you do, huh? I don’t work for the medicine company that makes it. Now be quiet and take a few ibuprofen.” You smiled at him and handed him the pills. He swallowed them down dry before letting his head flop back down onto the pillow with a groan. He took a few long blinks when suddenly there was a comfy, cold, damp rag on his head forehead. He wiggled his toes and realized the socks were on his feet as well. His sleepy eyes scanned the room for you when suddenly the bedroom door opened.

“Heeeey yoooou. You finally woke up.” You spoke softly as you entered the room with a tray. “W-what?” He was thoroughly confused but also disoriented from his little nap apparently. “Yeah you fell asleep for a little while so I went downstairs to prepare the food stuff I got you. I also went to get a bottle of water.” You rounded the bed to take a seat next to him. By now his hair was disheveled a tiny bit but he looked to be a little better. He would still need to hydrate and get plenty more rest, but for now he would need food. “I got saltines and chicken noodle soup since it would be more filling and also easier to keep down. The ginger ale should help with an upset tummy and look there. The popsicles are finally frozen and I got your favorite, the blue one. The coolness should help soothe you a bit.” He nodded and slowly sat up, moving the damp towel to the bedside table and holding the tray on his lap. He began eating and his eyes watered just a bit. “Kai what’s wrong, is the food not staying down? I can bring you the trashcan to puke in real quick!” You almost stood up but he stopped you just in time. “The food is just fine. I suppose I’m just extremely thankful to have you taking care of me like this. I’m grateful to you, and I love you my angel.” He looked up at you with such emotion in those eyes that you knew it to be nothing but the truth. “I love you too Kai. Finish your food and get some more rest so you can get better soon. Okay?” You wanted so badly to sneak another kiss on those cheeks but you knew the risk of couples getting sick and continuously passing it to each other.

He finished his food and drinks before slowly laying back down and bundling himself in the soft blankets, sighing with glee. “Get well soon, love.” You stroked his hair gently until the sound of faint snoring could be heard.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #overhaul #shie hassaikai #yakuza

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atinydise · 3 years

Text

Ateez trying to get their s/o back after leaving them for their exes

❦ Genre: Angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3k9.

❦ A/N: I don’t know how you managed to do that but y’all made the pole 50/50 💀so here’s the first one that I made angsty and the 2nd one should be posted soon! - Thank you for all the little messages you added to the pole! It was really nice and I appreciated this a lot! Sadly I forgot to tell you to add your @ or whatever 💀so I can come & dm you but THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍🦋

HONGJOONG

Not even 2 weeks later, your ex-boyfriend contacted you. You picked up only because he was supposed to take back the rest of his stuff in your apartment. [“When do you want to come?”] You asked coldly. [“A-Actually…. I would like to talk with you.”] He stuttered. You sighed. It was already hard for you to engage a conversation with him, knowing that he’s taken, and he wanted to talk like nothing happened. [“About what?”] [“Let me come to your apartment. I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?”] [“Then hurry up, I have some plans tonight.”] It was a lie. You didn’t want him to think you stayed all the time in your living-room, crying about your chaotic life. [“Sure. See you in 10 minutes then.”] You hung up right away, but it seemed important. Maybe he wanted to…? You shook your head to avoid these false hopes and went straight to your bedroom. The last days, you packed all of his stuff. Unconsciously, you started to remember all the memories you had with each item. Everything shirts, every CDs even his toothbrush.

You probably were too deep in your thoughts because the ring bell made your heart miss a beat. Picking up the box before leaving the room, you rushed to the hallway and opened the door. You prepared yourself during the 2 last weeks for your first conversation with Hongjoong, as your ex-boyfriend. But nothing prepared you to see him looking so happy with a dozen of roses in his hands. “What is that?” You immediately asked. “These are for you.” He handed the flowers to you. “I would like to apologize for thinking that I would be happier without you.” He added, ashamed. “I want you in my life Y/N.” One part of you were not surprised at all. You knew the day he had broken up with you that this decision was taken too fast. Looking once again at the red flowers, you rolled your eyes and grabbed them. Hongjoong started to smile more widely until you threw it harshly on the floor. “Do you think that I will jump back in your arms as nothing happened?” Your lips started to shake a bit; the emotion was surrounding you. “You threw me away as an old sock and ran to her. You ignored me for 2 weeks and came back just by telling me to let you go and to be more considering!” Your face was filled with anger and confusion. It was the first time Hongjoong saw this expression. He hated it. “Y/N…” “I don’t care if I’m still in love with you. I don’t care if I’m dying without you. Because anyway, I can’t see you the same way…” You sobbed. “You broke me in a million of pieces and came back today, trying to fix the mess that I am. And BECAUSE of you!” “Y/N please-” He tried to step inside. “Take your stuff and go away.” You grabbed the box and threw it on his arms. “Y/N-” “I said GO AWAY!” You yelled. He made you reach your limit. You yelled at him crazily, you were crying hot tears uncontrollably and pushing him away from your life. Not wanting to make you madder. He nodded and turned around. Right away, you shut your door. You were completely destroyed. He made you feel so bad that you hated yourself for still loving him.

SEONGHWA

The next months, Seonghwa was tormented. His ex asked him a second chance and he accepted. The media were sharing all the new couple informations. All his fans, his members and the staff were happy for him, but he wasn’t. Something didn’t feel right, and he knows exactly what. You. Even though these days with his ex-girlfriend were cool. It wasn’t you. Seonghwa wasn’t having fun like he does usually. When the regret started eating him inside, he decided to call you. Of course, you never picked up. And he couldn’t blame you for that. “Why you just don’t go to her house? You know she will be there.” Sighed Yeosang. “I don’t know…” he replied. “I think I’m scared.” “Just go. You might lose her for good, if you don’t do anything.” Seonghwa hesitated few seconds and finally left the dorm. He ran to your apartment. At each step, the frustration was worse. When he saw you far away the shape of your building. He almost ran back to the dorm. But the little Yeosang’s voice was stuck in his head. Seonghwa continued his way to your apartment. Right before climbing the entrance stairs, you came out, visibly in rush. Because of the expression on your face, you were surprised to see him here. “Y/N.” He smiled at you. “Seonghwa.” You replied instinctively. “I’m so glad you there I was looking for you.” “What do you want? You should be with-” “With you. You are the only one I should be with.” You scoffed, not believing a word he said. “How can you come here after all this time?” You asked, arms crossed our chest. “Are you already bored of her?” “Not at all. It was always you; I was just too dumb to notice.” “I’m not a toy that you can throw when you are bored.” “You are absolutely not a toy. Or a test or a break, whatever you say. This is my fault. I made a big mistake.” He explained, holding your hand. “Your mistake caused me to stay at home for weeks. To lost some of my friends, my self-confidence and esteem.” You removed his hand of yours. “While you were acting lovely dovely with her on every social media, I was all alone.” “Y/N, I will fix-” “Y/N?” You both looked at the person coming at your right. “Ah you there.” You smiled widely. “I can’t make you wait.” He winked. Seonghwa and apparently your new man looked at each other few seconds. “Is everything okay? Do you know him?” You stared at Seonghwa, “I’m okay… And it’s nobody.” You claimed. “Y/N.” He tried to stop you, but you carefully avoided his grip. You walked past to him and joined your “friend”. “Let’s go.” He opened the car door for you. Powerless, Seonghwa looked you leaving with someone else. That’s exactly, what he was scared to see. You with someone else who knows your real value.

YUNHO

“Yunho can you focus please. It’s the last shot and you keep making the same mistake.” Sighed the music video director. The tall boy apologized again and tried to focus back. Hongjoong grabbed his wrist. “It can’t continue this way. You need to look for Y/N after our schedule today. She’s clearly stuck in your mind all the time.” “But how?” “Just go.” He replied before positioning back. This is why Yunho was in front of your gate the same night. After your argument at the supermarket, you both decided to break up. Even if he thought that confessing to his ex would lift the weight on his shoulders, it stayed the same. He hated himself for that. When he was with you, he was non-stop mentioning Hyena. Now, it was the opposite. But even if his mind was completely fuzzy, his heart belongs to you and nobody else.

Knock knock.

“Coming!” The sound of your voice made his heart melt even more. “He-” He bowed politely to you. “Hello Y/N. It’s been a long time.” You stayed completely quiet. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here, but can we talk a bit?” You bit your tongue interiorly, struggling to know if it was good idea or not. “It won’t be long. Promise.” You took a deep breath and finally stepped on the side to let him enter. “Thank you.” In a matter of time, you were both sitting on your couch. And it was totally awkward. “I know I acted like a complete jerk with you and I’m sorry for that. I thought that my feelings for Hyena were stronger, but it wasn’t.” He glanced at you, trying to see any reactions but you kept arbored this poker face. “I want you. I need you. I miss you. I love you. Not Hyena.” He confessed. “Please give me another c-” “I do want you.” You cut him. “I do need and miss you.” You added. Yunho was smiling widely at you, relieved that you forgave his silliness. “But I can’t love you anymore.” Immediately his face saddened. “Why? I’m sure I can make it work.” “Every time you pronounce her name, my love for you is fading away. Little by little.” You explained, moving your knees against your chest. “You pronounced it 2 times already, since you entered. Just with a name I feel awful.” You looked right at his eyes. “I don’t want to feel this mix of jealousy and pain anymore Yunho.” “Y/N.” “If this is all you wanted to say then you should leave.” Yunho didn’t want to make any scene, so he just nodded and accepted his fate. He put back his jean jacket and stood up. Before walking away, he looked at you. Without asking your permission, he kissed your forehead softly for few longs’ seconds. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You bit your lip the whole time he left. When you heard the lock, you busted in tears on your couch. Why everything was so complicated?

YEOSANG

The way you left the backstage room the other day was haunting Yeosang. Going back to Kira was really a good choice? If yes, why does his heart hurts so bad? Before going to sleep he had few flashbacks of you. It was stuck in his mind for the rest of the night. It happened 2 times in a week and even more the following days. These insomnias caused him to be exhausted. The ethic schedule, his feelings and these sleepless nights caused Yeosang to drink more than usual. Tonight, he was the only client left at the restaurant. His table was filled with a bunch of Soju’s bottles. All empty. “Sir.” Called the waitress. “We took your phone to call someone who can get you back home.” “Nobody is going to pick me!” He yelled completely drunk. “The only one who did is gone! Like POOF!” He claimed. “She disappeared of my life.” “Don’t bother this poor girl with your dumbness.” You sat in front of him, visibly annoyed. “Y/N?” He smiled widely, his eyes completely teary. “You came back to me?” You glanced at the waitress and asked her 5 more minutes. To talk with him in private. Nicely even though you saw that she just wanted to go back home, she accepted. “You shouldn’t drink this much. You can’t hold alcohol well.” “This is the only thing that helps me to sleep and forget.” He tugged. “Forget what?” “Forget that I ruined the amazing relationship we had.” He sighed, looking for a bottle. You stopped him before he could drink again. “You shouldn’t talk this way to me when you are with someone else.” “I don’t care because she’s not you.” He replied, growling. You stared at him; he was feeling really bad about this situation. You were about to reassure him, saying that everything would be okay, when his phone lightened up and his wallpaper appeared. The pain was back once again. You remember why everything stopped. Because of her. Kira. "You shouldn’t keep my phone number as your main contact anyway." “But I want to! Just let me love you!” He shouted, pushing the table a bit. “But I don’t want you to call me!” You raised your voice as well. Even if he was completely drunk, he understood that you were rejecting him. “I called San and Mingi. They should be there in few minutes. Please stay here till they arrive.” You ordered, standing up. “Wait.” He almost fell in front of you. You raised a brow at him. “So, it’s over? For real?” Because I made a mistake?” Yeosang gulped, anticipating your reply. You wanted to tell him that he would possibly get another chance, but a notification lightened his phone again. Kira’s smile was the first thing you saw. You nodded and pinched your lips together. “Yes. It’s over.” Yeosang clenched his fist and stared at the ceiling pissed. “Delete my phone number please.” You asked one more time before turning around and leaving the restaurant. On the way back to your home, you walked past to San and Mingi. “Oh, it’s Y/N? No?” Asked San. “Was she crying?” Added Mingi. Yes, you were. How could you not cry when you felt like your life was falling apart?

SAN

You opened your letterbox. As the previous days, a rose was on top of your bills and other prospects. You knew that San was the one leaving a flower daily. You ignored what he was trying to do. He was supposed to live the “perfect love story” with his “new ex girl”. You weren’t supposed to be a part of this relationship. So as always, you threw it on the trash can next to the door. No way, you would accept it.

This little game lasted 3 weeks. He even added more roses for your birthday. San was making your confused. Your heart was torn between the pain and the incomprehension. One day, you finally decided to trap him.

You never saw him, but you knew he was probably waiting for you to leave and put the flower on your letterbox. So, you faked to leave the building as always and hid between the gate and a bush. As expected, you spotted San rushing to the hall. He entered the door code. Just before the door could close, you got out of your hiding place and followed him “Choi San!” He almost slipped when he heard your voice. He wasn’t expecting you to be there. “You scared me! I almost had a-” “What are you doing?” You cut him, walking straight in front of him. “J-just putting the rose as... always?” He scratched his head shyly. “Stop doing this. We are not together anymore, right?” “I regret it okay? Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” “I don’t care.” You replied. “You should have thought about it earlier.” “Don’t be so mean... I know what I did was wrong, but I can’t-” “Which part you don’t understand in ‘I don’t care’?” You almost yelled, snatching the rose off his hand. “Y/N, calm down.” He tried to make you lower your voice. “Don’t come and put these flowers here anymore!” You threw it back on him. “Y/N...” “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t talk to me! Do exactly as you did these last weeks! Forget me.” You ordered angrily. “I can’t do like you never existed.” He raised his voice. “You’ve done it extremely well.” Your voice cracked. “You completely erased me of your life. You made as I never existed, so continue! It helped me to stop loving you!” You shouted before leaving your building for good this time. San wanted to convince you that you were the one and only, but it was clearly too late.

MINGI

[“Hello Y/N.”] Once again Mingi was using Yunho’s phone to text you. He started to do that when he understood that you blocked his phone number. [“Mingi... I know that’s you.”] [“So… can you accept a call?”] [“I have nothing to say to you. Please stop texting me or using Yunho’s phone.”] [“Y/N just one call. That’s all I ask. Only one. Maximum 10 minutes.”] You hesitated. You weren’t forgiving him for sure, but you knew exactly the effect his voice has on you. [“6 minutes.”] You replied. In maximum 10 seconds, your phone buzzed in your hand. You took a deep breathe before picking up. [“So? What do you want?”] [“You.”] A big silence settled between both of you. [“I won’t come back.”] [“Think about how happy we were, together.”] [“Ah yeah, when you say ‘before’, you mean before you tried to dump or even to cheat on me with your ex-girlfriend? Who also, cheated on you?”] [“Yeah... I guess. But I never cheated on you!”] He was visibly ashamed, but also totally deserved this cold treatment. [“Any way, if you think I’m ready to forgive you... you are totally wrong.”] [“Y/N. I fucked up I know that... but please try to understand me.”] [“In no existing universe I will understand you Song Mingi. You know what?”] You paused, trying to let the anger down before you say something you would regret. [“Tell me. I need to know how you feel to apologize correctly.”] He replied, understanding that you were looking for the right words. [“How I feel? Well, I feel terrible because of you. I have never felt this way in my entire life. Why? Because you...] your voice cracked. You immediately wiped your eyes before a tear could escape. [“Because you ruined every pieces and aspects of me. I can’t look at myself in a mirror without feeling disgusted.”] Your lips were shaking uncontrollably, the words were stuck in your throat. Mingi was aware for sure that you would cry. [“I HATE loving you after all the pain I need to endure right now. I can’t even stop loving you. How weak I am for falling for your voice again? This is disgusting. This is sickening.”] [“I-”] [“I tried everything. I even imagined you cuddling her like you did with me. Just to hate you and maybe forget your existence but this is just...”] You paused once again, but to take back your breath and hold your phone correctly because of your shaky hands. [“This is just killing me inside.”] You clenched at your shirt. [“I d- I don’t know what to say. What I can do to apologize?”] He sadly asked. [“The 6 minutes are over.”] You claimed before hanging up.

WOOYOUNG

It’s been exactly 2 months after your discussion on the balcony. This was the last time, Wooyoung saw you. After few days, he finally asked his ex-girlfriend to date him again, but nothing. Not the sparkles he thought he would feel and not even the happiness. Nothing. He felt like an empty shell. His new girlfriend was nice and funny, but everything seemed so fake. Even on her side, she could feel that Wooyoung’s heart was somewhere else. One day, she confronted him. At the end of the conversation, they both decided that the best for them was to break up. He realized that the “feelings” for her, that he detailed to you the last time, were completely wrong. “You should go back to her. I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” She cheered him. Without thinking twice, he left her dorm right away and jumped in the first taxi. On the way to your house, he tried to call you but seems like your phone was completely off. He ignored how he would explain this situation to you. You were probably upset and mad at him. The thought of you hating him went straight to his mind. But the taxi stopped right in front of your flat. After the payment, Wooyoung opened the little gate of your garden. The apartment seemed unbelievably quiet; the lights were on but no sounds. He knocked once, repeating the same apology to practice. “Oh Wooyoung?” Claimed your roommate, surprised to see him here. “Hi. Can I talk to Y/N? Quickly? I know it’s late, but I’ll make it short.” “I would love to let you talk to her, but she left 2 weeks ago.” She said, biting his lip of nervously. “Left? Where?” He asked, not believing you could do something like this. “She went to Berlin.” “Berlin? But why Berlin?” “She had a job opportunity there... and because you broke up, nothing was holding her here anymore.” Wooyoung tugged in the side, completely lost. “I can’t believe it. How could she leave this way...?” “I’m sorry Wooyoung.” She patted his back, trying to comfort him a bit. “I miss her too.” The boy sat against the wall. He couldn’t stand up anymore. The thought of you being so far away, made him dizzy. “It was supposed to be a happy ending.” He bit his lip, trying to suppress the tears in his eyes. Your ex-roommate stayed quiet next to him. Not exactly knowing how to help him. “I really messed up everything.” He buried his face in his arms, not knowing what to do now. He lost you for food this time. He wouldn’t forgive himself for that.

JONGHO

The maknae ignored if waiting for you at the same place you spotted him and Sienna. was a good idea, but it was the only option he found. You brought all of his personal stuff to the dorm, you blocked his phone number and his social media account. Even when he was using his teammates’ number, you managed to reject him. How he could contact you? So, he came every day after his schedule and hoped to see you there. The first week, no sign of you, only the usual crowd. But just when he was starting to doubt about his strategy, you appeared. Just by seeing your face, his heart melted away. “Y/N!” He stood up off his chair and waved to you. He saw the expression on your face, it went to surprise to disgust in 2 seconds. You walked up to his direction even if your mind told you to stay away. “Jongho.” “Finally, you are here.” He smiled. “I came every day to have a chance to look for you.” “This is not the dedication you should have for you ex-girlfriend.” You stated annoyed. “Sienna and I broke up.” He said, thinking that you would be happy about that. Instead, you raised a brow. The look you gave him once again wasn’t the one he expected. “So… because you broke up, you think you can go back to me as nothing happened?” “I-I thought yes. But seems like it was a bad idea.” “Yes, it is. How can you think I would say ‘Oh yes let’s go back together and act like the perfect little couple again?” “I wanted to prove you that I made a mistake. And so that I want to fix it.” You started to laugh loudly, gripping your belly to reduce the abdominal cramps. All the people around, started to look at you weirdly. Exactly like the last time. “This is not happening Jongho.” Wiping your eyes. You replied coldly. “On no other earths, no other planet or not even the entire space, I would accept to date you again.” “I completely regret it Y/N.” He almost begged you. “Yes, and you should.” You stood up. “This is not because Sienna “the perfect girl”, broke up with you that you should run to me.” “Listen.” “No. You listen to me. I’m not a toy. I’m a human with feelings and so on.” You pointed at your chest. “You hurt me so much that I managed to erase you of my life. “You don’t need to do it because I will fix it. I promise.” “Don’t come to look for me anymore.” You grabbed your bag, leaving before he could add something. Even though you said that you erased him of your life, you didn’t and honestly, you don’t think you would someday. You will just need to live with the pain.

#ateez reactions #ateez reaction #ateez scenarios #ateez scenario #ateez request #ateez reader insert #ateez requests #ateez angst #ateez sad #ateez x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez x you #ateez #ateez kpop #ateez kq #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez writing #ateez writings

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mooncademia · 4 years

Text

Boys vs. Boys — PART 1.

PAIRING ~ prohero au! friends to lovers, Bakugou x reader ( x Yo Shindo)

GENRE ~ fluff, a little bit of angst!, jealously

WARNINGS ~ language! a tiny ~spicy~ joke inserted

WORD COUNT ~ 8.1k

SUMMARY ~ After more than a month being away in the States, you have finally returned to Tokyo...with a party more than one. And when Bakugou realizes who the extra person was, tension grows between him and ‘pretty boy dunce-face’ a.k.a, the one and only: Yo Shindo.

[Bakugou] 10:35 a.m :

Text me when you arrive at Narita Airport, okay?

[Y/N] 10:41 a.m:

Of course :)

Bakugou leaned back on his chair in his apartment and read the text that you have sent to him yesterday, over and over again. In less than 30 minutes, you will finally arrive back to Tokyo after spending a month and a half in New York and LA for pro-hero work in the States.

Bakugou was never the type to be constantly checking his social media. He doesn’t even turn on his notifications because his simple rule was: if you had something to tell him, text him through Messages. Or just straight up call him. He doesn’t want to be spending time scrolling through Instagram, liking people’s outfit or food posts, nor did he want to retweet some silly tweet that Kaminari posted, complaining about how his neighbor’s cat hated him on a personal level. Bakugou had his own pro-hero work to do.

But today was different! And he had to be honest to himself, he was a little embarrassed to admit it. But ever since you texted him yesterday, he immediately turned on all his social media apps and now, he has spent way too long scrolling through your friend’s posts--hoping to know if there were any news of your arrival.

Bakugou grunted as he ruffled his blonde hair messily, feeling impatient that he hasn’t received any news about your arrival yet. He leaned over to his desk to grab his water bottle, but right before he unscrewed the cap, his phone vibrates loudly on his desk and he immediately dropped the water bottle and unlock his phone.

Finally! After so many weeks of you being away…you were finally here.

Closer to him.

Bakugou impatiently swiped right to unlock his phone and saw your message.

[Y/N] 7:56 p.m

At Narita, finally 🥴

His lips twitched a smile when he saw the emoji. Yeah, a 14 hour flight isn’t really the most comfortable, huh? He quickly replied back with his thumbs running with speed.

[Bakugou] 7:56 p.m:

How was the flight?

A few minutes past, no response. Bakugou shrugged, a smile still on his face knowing that you were safely here at Tokyo now, and in a few hours, he will be able to see you at the welcome-home party that Yaoyoruzu is preparing at the very moment in her godly-rich mansion.

But, before he rests his phone back on his desk, hundreds of notifications blew up on his phone and he checks his insta story to see what Mina, Uraraka, and Tsuyu posted. After all, they were currently at the airport picking you up.

Bakugou clicked on Mina’s latest insta story, his heart throbbed in excitement to finally see you until—

His face fell.

“I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW YOU TWO WERE DATING!,” Mina squealed in the short clip captioned: “I WAS RIGHT! @yaomomo u owe me $20 bucks 😘😘!” Her phone went flying everywhere which made the video awfully blurry. But Bakugou already caught it and oh, did he feel sour in the mouth.

You looked as beautiful as ever, with your simple yet stylish slightly cropped cream-T and gray sweatpants. Even though your eyes looked a bit dazed as if you had just woken up, you looked so cute to his eyes.

But what made Bakugou’s emotion shift so fast was not of you. Of course not!! How could he ever?!

No.

It was who you were walking with.

He clicked next on Mina’s insta story, hoping in that split millisecond it was not who he think it is. Not the person in his mind that kept bugging him after seeing so many headlines on the news of the two of you working together in New York and LA. It can’t be him, right?

Right?!!!

But Bakugou’s guts knew way fucking better. And his eyes grew angry when he saw the pro-hero, Yo Shindo, standing next to you. Wrapping you closely in his arms with a smirk plastered on his face. And you looked just as pleased too as Mina caught you laughing with Shindo so lovingly before running towards Mina with your arms wide open.

“Wow,” Bakugou heard Tsuyu gleefully whisper next to Mina. “He’s even more hot in real life! Why the hell can’t I find men like that?!”

“It’s a rarity.”

Bakugou heard Tsuyu scoffed playfully. “Tell me about it.”

Mina continued to wobble the phone, which makes Bakugou want to shout at the device on his hand to stop! moving! But alas, the next clip that was just posted 16 seconds ago, he saw you with your arms wide open, giving all your girlfriends a hug.

“Aw, I miss you guys so much!!” You squealed. Bakugou could no longer see “pretty boy dunce-face ” anymore but he knew he was with you and his stomach drop.

Ah, Yo Shindo. The pro-hero who study abroad in New York after high school for an internship at a country-famous agency, second best from Captain Celebrity (who was #1 hero in the U.S!), becoming a famous pro-hero in America.

And surely enough, when you flew to NY and LA to collaborate with Yo Shindo, news broke out nation wide in America about the two of you working together that even Japan starred the news on television one day. And those past weeks while you were gone, Bakugou had to suffer from all the pictures that the paparazzi took in New York and Los Angeles. And he admits it. He spent way too many nights awake, changing his VPN to U.S.A on his computer (thank you Kaminari for the tip!) to read and watch CNN, New York Times, and any other newsline that starred or mentioned you and Yo Shindo, hoping to grasp any updates about you.

But now you were finally here in Tokyo…with a party more than one. And as Bakugou closed Instagram, he closed his eyes to calm himself down aka, reassuring yourself that you and Yo Shindo were definitely no more than just friends…

Who spent more than a month together in the States…

And flew back to Tokyo together in the same flight…

Yeah…not helping.

Bakugou lifted himself off his chair and threw a towel over his shoulder, heading towards the shower to wash up before the party at Yao-momo’s tonight. But Bakugou’s phone buzzed once more and when he leaned in to check it, his heart did a little flip when he read your text.

[Y/N] 8:14 p.m

Not the very best 😔 a flight attendant and I had this argument because there was a seating error!

Bakugou relaxed a bit. He knew it was a little self-indulgent and selfish to feel this, and maybe it was jealously that was pouring over him, but he felt his nerves relaxed a bit knowing that perhaps you didn’t at all fell for that Yo Shindo boy.

Bakugou began to type back. Not an overly-top-gushy-pick-me-up text that he know that idiot Deku would type, but a nice and cool but sweet text to cheer you up from your bad flight. But before he clicked the sent button, he received another message.

[Y/N] 8:15 p.m

Thankfully Yo Shindo was there to help me out, he’s here in Tokyo too by the way!

Bakugou felt his stomach drop again. He backspaced his previous text and rewrote a new one.

[Bakugou] 8:16 p.m

Oh, that’s great!

He knew it was far from the truth as jealously crept up behind his back again, but he had to play it cool. He can’t be jumping into conclusions before he knows anything about the two of you!

[Y/N] 8:16 p.m

I’ll see you at Momo’s, right?

Bakugou smiled at the screen. Despite the news of pretty-boy dunce face in town, he still can’t wait to finally see you after so many weeks. Of course you have been keeping him updated through your texts every week, but to see you actually in person after so long…his heart couldn’t stop beating when he typed back.

[Bakugou] 8:17 p.m

Yeah, I’ll be there.

And with that, Bakugou finally rested his phone back on his desk and headed towards the shower, hoping to wash away all silly thoughts flowing in his mind. Hoping that…when he sees you tonight, he is able to have an opportunity in the near future to tell you about the emotions he has been feeling ever since you left Tokyo last month.

With no distractions in the way—especially not that pretty boy idiot!

—————

Okay so his previous plan came to a halt.

“Yo, Yao-Momo!!” Kaminari shouted as he hopped back onto the couch. He pointed behind him excitingly. “I didn’t know you had black custom-made toilets!!”

“Black toilets?” Kirishima asked, setting up the living room table with cups and beverages.

“Yeah! And there’s even a TV mounted on the wall above the bath tub. And OH! There’s “jacuzzi” mode in the tub! And there are speakers so you can listen to music and the mirror above the sink opens up to a—“

“So did you go pee, or did you just take a full-ass bath in my bathroom?” Yaoyorozu asked with her hands on her hips and sneered eyes.

Kaminari widened his eyes like a puppy. “I CAN TAKE A BATH IN YOUR COOL BATHROOM?!”

Yaoyorozu sighed as she placed two finger on her nose bridge, but Kaminari could tell that she was trying not to laugh.

“Food’s here!!” Yaoyorozu’s boyfriend, Yosetsu Awase, announced as he plopped down six pizza boxes on the table.

“Thanks babe for picking it up,” Yaoyorozu said before giving Awase a kiss on the cheek. She smiled happily at her boyfriend and when Bakugou glanced up, the two of them looked so good together that he couldn’t help but feel a sour in his stomach as he reflected back at the news he saw on Mina’s Instagram story.

Bakugou cleared his throat as he helped Kirishima set up all the props. “So…when’s Y/N getting here?”

Kirishima looked at him and when he saw his best friend look so curious and innocent, Kirishima’s eyes immediately lit up and he nudged Bakugou on the ribs even though he knew he may be dead meat from teasing him.

“You still like her, huh!” Kirishima said in a low whisper with a smirk, which almost caused Bakugou to light up his hands and slam Kirishima face down on Momo’s fancy wooden floors. But before he could even act, he heard the entrance door whoosh open with Mina’s voice echoing from the door to the main room.

“YOU OWE ME $20 BUCKS MOMOOOOOOOO!!!!” Mina shouted as she dragged you to the living room. When Bakugou saw you standing a couple feet away from him, he sucked in a breath.

You were still wearing your airport outfit that he saw you last on Mina’s post. But when he thought that you couldn’t look any more beautiful from the small screen on his phone, he was so wrong. As you stood there with a sheepish grin on your face—to Bakugou’s eyes— you were 10 times more prettier in real life. Hell, make that a hundred.

When you locked eyes with Bakugou after giving Kirishima a hug, you blushed before stepping towards him, about to do the same, until—

“Y/N!! YOU’RE FINALLY FUCKING HERE!!! I MISS YOU SO GODDAMN MUCH!!!” Yaoyorozu squealed as she ran over, cutting Bakugou from his hug. Bakugou had to back up before Yaoyorozu jumped over him and he was not happy about that. But when you let out an “oof!” and rested your shoulder on Momo’s shoulder, your eyes were still on Bakugou’s and you gave him a weary smile that said: “sorry!”

Bakugou couldn’t stay furious too long when he saw your apologetic smile as you hugged Momo back. He gave an appreciative nod at you that made you know that he was glad to finally see you back.

When Momo parted away, she blinked her eyes at Mina, who was standing right next to you with her arms crossed and a sly smirk plastered on her face.

Momo perked up. “Wait, I owe you $20 bucks?”

Mina widened her eyes and grabbed your arm, shaking it so excitingly that Bakugou swore she probably loosened all your bones now. “Bitch! You owe me $20 bucks when we bet on Y/N and Yo Shindo being together!”

You shot your head at Mina with eyes widened. “You guys bet WHAT?!” You asked so sternly that it made Mina and Momo tuck their hands sheepishly behind their backs.

“Well…” Mina teased, eyes staring at the ground as she drew circles on the floor with her shoe. “We kinda bet on whether you will get together with Yo Shindo when you were away…”

“We? As in just the two of you, right?”

Momo clamped the back of her neck embarrassingly. “Uh…plus Asui and Ochaco..?”

You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief. “You guys! I cannot believe—“

“That you love us too much for you to get mad at us?” Mina interrupted with such a cute smile that you parted your mouth for a few seconds and darted your eyes from Mina to Momo before dropping your hands and releasing a sigh.

“Fine…” you said, rolling your eyes but your lips lifted up to a smile. You extended your arms to your friends. “Come here you guys…Ya’ll are so lucky I haven’t seen you two for more than a month. Or else you’ll be dead meat!”

Your girlfriends ran in to hug you one more time, continuing their warm comments on how much they have missed you.

Yaoyorozu parted away when a thought came across her mind. “WAIT, Y/N, FOR REAL THO. Are you guys dating? .… Oh my god,” Yaoyorozu cupped her cheeks with her hands and blushed warmly. “Don’t tell me he’s actually here, is he?!”

Bakugou silently pleaded to himself that pretty boy dunce face is not here. Oh god, please let him have mercy!

“He’s here!” Mina squealed turning her head back to Yaoyorozu. “And he’s so cute in real life!”

Yaoyorozu clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god. Yo Shindo. In my house.” She scanned the whole living room, making sure that everything looked fine.

“Uh. Your boyfriend. Also. In your house.” Awase cleared his throat as he and Kaminari came back with paper plates.

Yaoyorozu walked towards her boyfriend and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Of course you know I love you, babe. But Yo Shindo is here. That’s like…that's like having Brian the Sun come over to perform a song, y’know. We are all just fangirling!”

“We?” Bakugou sputtered out. Kirishima flashed him a smirk which made him roll his eyes and mutter out a “whatever”.

But no one heard him, because right after Bakugou’s comment, Tsuyu and Uraraka entered in with the man that Bakugou never thought he’d ever have to see since his pre-license exam during his first year in U.A.

Yo Shindo came in holding two pack of beers and bowed slightly with a celebrity-level smile that would have all girls swooning after him. He was wearing a Gucci shirt under a blue flannel, paired with ripped vintage denim jeans and a black beanie that made the bangs on his head scoot down just a tiny bit. His face mask was resting right below his lips and his whole aura screamed: “FASHION” in all the right places. But it wasn’t just his looks that demanded attention, it was also his aura of easy confidence that he held. And if he wasn’t a pro-hero, he’s the type of guy that would be easily mistaken as a supermodel.

His yellow Gentle Monster sunglasses were tucked in his shirt and Tsuyu and Uraraka giggled as they sat down the rest of the beers on the table and directed Shindo to do the same.

“Hey,” Shindo greeted everyone as he moved next to where you were standing which made Bakugou’s eyes squint just a bit. You nodded at him with a smile that made Bakugou want to twist his guts. “It’s so nice to meet everyone! Y/N talks a lot about you guys.”

“SO YOU REMEMBER US FROM THE LICENSE EXAM?!” Kaminari asked excitingly, almost jumping out of his seat.

Yo Shindo chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, making you widen your eyes just a bit from his touch, but the look on your face didn’t really show any uncomfortableness—as if you were already used to it.

But oh, if only Bakugou shot lasers out of his eyes!! He would zap away his hand from your waist in a blink of an eye.

“Yeah,” Shindo nodded his head cooly. “You, Kirishima, and Bakugou are awesome!” He said looking at the each of them. Kaminari and Kirishima grinned appreciatively back. But weirdly, when Shindo’s eyes landed on Bakugou his gaze stayed a tiny bit longer than usual.

What? Bakugou mentally questioned to himself when he saw the way Shindo stared at him seriously. It was like he was challenging him, and there was a string of tension that only the two boys could feel and Bakugou already knew from the start that he and him were not going to get along.

Shindo blinked his eyes back to reality and flashed a friendly smile to you—a complete change of face for what he was expressing to Bakugou, but no one else seemed to notice. Shindo pulled you closer. “Well, let’s get this party started shall we?”

You nodded happily back and everyone began handing out plates and popping bottles of beer. Bakugou joined in too, with a grin on his face.

But although he smiled as he listened to you talk about your crazy adventures of that one creepy stalker you encountered in LA or how everyone must order the pastrami egg n’ cheese bagel at Frankel’s Deli in Brooklyn, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a discomfort itch in the back of his mind as he saw you sitting on the couch with Shindo so closely next to you.

And whenever Shindo glanced at Bakugou, there was always this silent edge that he could feel from the look of his eyes. Unfortunately, in such a social environment, he couldn’t excuse himself with his best friend Kirishima to talk about this. Bakugou knew that people will question him. What’s there to be uncomfortable about in Y/N’s Welcome Home party?

So as Bakugou took another sip of his beer while you talked about your crazy adventures, he mentally crossed his fingers that you and Yo Shindo are merely just friends.

Even if a part of him told him otherwise.

————

“Wait, you two went on a date?!” Momo asked looking at Shindo as her back sat comfortably on the sofa with her boyfriend’s arm around her. “In New York?!”

Shindo smiled at you and laughed. You mirrored his expression and shook your head at Momo. “Well, it wasn’t really a date actually, it was just a tour around New York.” You said.

“Oh, please tell us!!” Uraraka said to Shindo with excited eyes. Shindo laughed and nodded happily, making all the girls put their full attention on what he had to say.

“Well, I first met Y/N in New York City. And after seeing her and her awesome abilities—“

“Oh please,” you said, waving your hand dismissively from that with an embarrassing smile.

Yo Shindo pouted adorably at you. “It’s true!”

Bakugou saw Uraraka and Tsuyu quietly exchanging each other glances that didn’t need much for him to know what they were thinking. And as much as it hurts his guts and heart to think about this, he couldn’t help it.

You and Shindo looked so good together. It was like those couples on k-drama or whatever the hell people were watching, where the audience knows that they are perfect for each other. And even though you hadn’t mentioned anything about him being your boyfriend and all…well, it was just obvious. Even your girlfriends could see it. And from the look of Kirishima giving him a lopsided smile as if saying “Ouch. Sorry bro.” Bakugou could basically confirm his hypothesis correct.

But instead of wanting to just punch pretty boy in the face to release his anger (which, he wanted to do so bad) he kept his cool and restrained his emotions as he listened to Shindo explain this “date” that the two of you went on.

“Well, I offered to take Y/N around New York City, since she was new to the place on my motorbike and—“

“ON YOUR MOTORBIKE?!” All the girls (plus Kaminari) squealed. Awase tilted his head back to laugh at everyone’s reaction and Kirishima muttered a phrase that included: “dude, that’s so manly!” causing Bakugou to turn his head at him and shoot him a death dagger.

Kaminari—who by the way— is obsessed with motorcycles and dreams to own a Harley Davidson one so he could be as cool as Keanu Reeves, pumped his hand in the air and excitingly asked, “Yo, Shindo, what type of motorbike do you have?”

“The one I took with Y/N?” Shindo said, which meant that he had more than one. But the way Shindo said it wasn’t in an egotistic kind of way, nor was it annoying (which bugged Bakugou) but rather, he said it in a humble and polite tone.

Shindo glanced at you with a charming smirk on his face, as if remembering that precious time with you in New York. “It was a Harley Davidson Sportster Iron 883! In black.”

“WHAT!” Kaminari slammed his beer down on the table. “C-can I have a ride?”

Ugh, an idiot I swear! Bakugou said to himself as jealously crept up to him once again as he saw everyone—even Kirishima—so engaged on Yo Shindo.

Shindo laughed again and nodded. “Sure! I actually shipped that one to Tokyo since I’ll be staying here for a while.”

Mina lifted her eyebrows at Shindo. “You’re staying in Tokyo?”

Shindo shook his head. “I’m just staying here for a couple of weeks for some pro-hero work. I’ve been away so long and I wanted to come back since I realized I missed Japan so much. And a friend of mine offered me to collab with his agency for now!”

Bakugou let out a puff of air as Uraraka gleefully smiled and said, “Wow, that’s so great to hear!”

And so the conversation continued. After Shindo took you around on his motorbike, he took you to this fancy, romantic restaurant down in Manhattan, and then took you around Central Park when evening came. And during this whole conversation, everyone pitched in their squeals and glees here and there, but Bakugou remained silent the whole time. You laughed at Shindo’s jokes and descriptions and added a story on how clumsy he actually is, despite his cool exterior. And Bakugou grew slightly more furious—but it wasn’t a challenging kind of anger. It was just that it frustrated him that he couldn’t point out, or find, any particular ”flawed” that Yo Shindo had.

As the conversation moved along from one to the other, Yo Shindo offered to help Awase and Kaminari to clean up the empty pizza boxes. Kirishima and Bakugou offered to help as well, recycling empty bottles away and folding paper plates to the waste bin.

And as Bakugou walked across the living room, picking up the last few empty bottles of beer on the side table of the couch, he heard you and your girlfriends lowly whispering.

“Well?! “ Yaoyorozu questioned curiously, patting your knee. “Did you…you know!?”

“What?” You asked curiously.

“You know…Yo Shindo…vibration quirkkkkk,” Tsuyu moaned as Uraraka and Mina nodded in agreement, eyes clearly swooned away by Shindo.

Tsuyu grabbed your arm and stared at you dead deep into your eyes before glancing to where Shindo and the other boys were at in the kitchen. “Please tell me what happened! You two obviously hit it up, right?!”

Bakugou wanted to throw up right then and there. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what you were about to say next. And as much as his conscious tells him to “WALK AWAY KATSUKI”!!! Curiosity killed the cat as he watched you in the corner of his eyes while he cleaned up the table slowly to the side.

You covered your face with your hands as embarrassment crept up on you and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I KNEW IT!” Uraraka said in a low whispered as she snapped her fingers.

Bakugou’s stomach dropped and his jaw tightened in grit.

“Guys, no,” You whispered sternly back, but your cheeks still glowed with heat. “Nothing happened between me and Shindo.”

Bakugou eyes widened as he darted his attention back on the table. Wait a minute… there is hope! A wash of relief swept through him when he heard your reply, but his happy thoughts immediately crumpled when he heard Mina’s suspicious tone.

“Sureeeeeeeee,” Mina exhaled a puff of air sharply—not convinced that you were telling the truth. “I can see it in your face that that’s a LIE!”

Bakugou knew it would be wrong for him to continue hearing this (wrong in a sense that if you were just hiding the true secret, he may blow the roof off of Momo’s house, and that wouldn’t be appropriate). Plus, who the hell takes 5 goddamn minutes to clear up some trash?!

So, with all his might, Bakugou bravely walked around the couch, passing you and the girls as he headed towards the kitchen. And when you saw Bakugou walk pass in front of you, you silently let out a gasp with a parted mouth shaped as an ‘o’ on your face.

————

After the party was over and it was getting pretty late, all the girls decided to finally head home. They offered you to join them but you passed appreciatively by saying how you had to thank and Awase and Momo for everything and Awase was still in the back, cleaning a few things up, while Momo had some errands to run.

“How do you not drink Momo-Yaoo!!” Mina said as she threw one arm around Momo’s shoulder.

Momo sighed but a smile graced her lips. “Cuz I know I’ll have to take you guys home!” She said sternly but sarcastically.

Mina gave Momo a “thank you” hug and you and the girls laughed

“Since you’re finally here, we all have to go to that tendon place in Shinjuku!” Tsuyu announced happily, giving you one last hug before heading out.

“Tendon Tuesdays are definitely back ya’ll!” You laughed happily and all the girls hovered above the two of you, joining in for one last group hug as they shared “I love yous” and goodbyes.

“You guys are acting like I will be leaving again,” you laughed when you all pulled away and saw your friends getting teary.

Mina smiled softly. “We’re just happy you’re finally back.”

And after Mina said her sweet comment, Uraraka wailed a “You GUYSssssssss!” in a sarcastic tone and everyone bunched up together again for another group hug as they wailed their hearts out.

Bakugou walked in and saw all the girls form into one ball and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Yeah, he was so happy that you are actually in Tokyo.

After more “text me!” and goodbyes, the four girls exited out the door and you stood in the living room by yourself, cleaning up the last few trash on the table for Momo.

This is the time. Bakugou said to himself as he began to walk towards you. Nervousness crept on his neck which was unusual for him since you were one of his closest friends. Kirishima and Kaminari headed back to their places and before Kirishima exited, he gave one last talk to Bakugou.

“Dude, you don’t even know if she’s with him yet,” Kirishima said outside the front gate. “Maybe they’re just friends!”

“Just friends?” Bakugou repeated slightly icily—almost like a scoff. He tucked his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. You see it too though.”

Kirishima stares at his friend and bit his lip, knowing that from the way Shindo has been treating you and all the stories you two of shared together, it looked like you two were together. Sure! Maybe you two were just friends, but Bakugou felt like it was highly unlikely. Plus, you were exchanging whispers with your friends and from the look on their faces, it was like something exciting was stirring up.

“Yeah,” Kirishima finally said. “But still…we don’t really know. And now that everyone is almost gone, now’s your chance to finally talk to her in peace!”

And with that in mind, Bakugou walked towards you in the main room.

“Hey.”

You looked up from the table and widened your eyes. “Bakugou! I thought you already left with the other boys. You’re still here?” You asked. But you immediately blushed and waved your hands quickly when you realized how wrong that sounded out your mouth. “Not that it’s bad that you’re here! I didn’t mean that. I’m happy you’re still here!”

Bakugou laughed, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at you with a smile. You laughed too at your own dumb act and the awkward tension was slowly replaced with a comforting one.

“You really don’t wanna see me, huh?” Bakugou teased with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

Bakugou grabbed the back of his neck and locked his eyes with you. You hummed curiously, knowing that he wanted to say something.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say that I’m really glad that—“

“Y/N!!” Shindo’s voice echoed from the back kitchen. He waved his arm excitingly with a bright smile but then paused when he saw you and Bakugou standing in front of each other, alone.

Ugh! Bakugou thought to himself as he saw Shindo’s face grow slightly tensed when he looked at him.

Shindo walked towards you respectfully with a smile. “Hey, I know it’s pretty late. Do you want me to take you home?”

Bakugou parted his mouth opened for just a bit. His anger and jealously was rising high now and he wasn’t sure why.

“Oh!” You said, turning your head to Shindo. “No, it’s fine, really!”

“You sure?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, thank you though.”

“Well then,” Shindo turned to Bakugou and then back to you. His gaze turned serious. “Can- Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”

You opened your mouth and directed your hand towards Bakugou. “Oh! Bakugou was actually talking—“

“It’s fine, Y/N” Bakugou said in almost a strict tone that your face fell a bit. He nodded his head at Shindo and then smiled at you, telling you that it really was okay. “It’s not important, really. Actually…I think I’m going to head out.”

“Bakugou, wait—“ you said, your eyes staring directly at his.

“Y/N,” Bakugou tried to laugh. But you knew him too well that the laugh was forced. “Seriously, we can chat again later some time. Plus, since you’re back, we can finally hang out like we used too.”

Shindo glared at Bakugou sternly after he said that, but at this point Bakugou couldn’t care anymore.

You paused and stared at him before mumbling out an “okay” as Shindo turned and pulled you away from him.

And after letting Awase know that he was finally heading home, Bakugou exited the door and walked towards the front gate. He tucked his hands in his pockets and felt his heart grow heavier and heavier until—

“Katsuki! Wait!”

Bakugou twirled around to see you extend your arm up high out the front door. You ran towards him and put your hands on your knees to gasp for air.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you so directly.” You said apologetically.

Bakugou shook his head, but his heart skipped a few beats when he heard you call his first name. “It’s fine. You can call me that.”

You widened your eyes and hugged yourself closely. “Oh?” You smiled. “Okay then.”

“Uhm…did you need to tell me something…or..?” Bakugou asked curiously, internally wondering why you suddenly exited out of the house.

“Oh! Right!” You tapped your head dumbly. “Right….I- I actually wanted to say goodbye to you and-”

“Weren’t you just talking to Shindo?” Bakugou pointed out so cold that your face immediately fell when you heard his sudden shift of tone.

“Um-”

“Sorry.”

“No! I- I actually need to apologize for that. I should have spoken up more. We haven’t…really chatted during the party.”

Bakugou scoffed and smiled as he tilted his head up towards the night sky in silence. He was so furious just a few seconds ago that any one who dared stopped him will be blasted off to space. But when he heard you call his actual name, he felt more at peace. But sadness lingered in his heart as he darted his gaze behind you at the door, knowing that Shindo was in there.

From the door entrance to the front gate was a large garden in between, and when you realized how quiet it was, you cleared your throat and looked up at him.

“We’re not together,” you finally said. “I mean, Shindo and I.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows shot up immediately but quickly replaced his shock look with a calm one.

Wait…what?

“Oh…?”

He blinked his eyes and parted his mouth slowly, carefully thinking about the words before saying them out loud. “But Mina and them—“

“Kept teasing about the two of us being together? Momo kept throwing us questions about our quests? All the girls teasing and the “date”?” You said in air quotes with a smirk. “Shindo is really nice and he’s like that to almost everyone, really. Plus…”

You stopped, glancing up at Bakugo and then turning your head away. Heat crept up to the apples of your cheeks as you continued. “Plus, there’s someone else…”

Bakugou’s mind buzzed with clouds as he felt like a a horde of demons was ready to swallow him up.

There’s someone else.

It can’t be him, right? Bakugou’s shoulders fell and frowned a bit. How could he be so stupid thinking that you actually liked him in the first place? Could it be…Kirishima? Kaminari? Oh fuck, maybe it’s Deku. His mind continued to swarm with possibilities of the “someone else,” casting more and more doubt onto himself until he heard your laughter.

You clenched your arms around your stomach and laughed. A beautiful melody that never ceases to amaze Bakugou. It was like a warm breeze in the summer swooping him away. But Bakugou lowered his gaze with confusion as he stared at you. “What’s so funny?”

You looked up, wiping a small tear on the corner of your eye with a bright but soft smile on your face.

“It’s you, dumbass.”

Under normal circumstances, anyone who called him that will immediately turn into dust, but with you… He couldn’t even get riled up an inch. Because when he heard those words left your mouth, it was like fog clearing up on a raining day, a heavy weight now off his shoulders.

Wait…is this really happening?

A cunning smirk graced his lips as he stepped closer to you.

The cool evening air no longer felt cold and you grabbed his hand pulling him closer. It was dark but he could still see the perfect outlines of your face.

“Really?” Bakugou whispered huskily above you, not sure if he was dreaming or not. Excitement buzzed throughout his body, his focus entirely on you.

You laughed with a happy smile on your face. “Really.”

Bakugou smirked cockily. “Well, then dumbass…I’m glad… because I like you too.” He said slowly in such a cute way that it made you giggled.

“I’m glad then.” You said quietly.

“Do you… want to go grab lunch someday…?” Bakugou asked, the words rolling off his tongue seemed so foreign to him. Everything happened so fast but it felt so nice at the same time.

You nodded your head still smiling. “Yeah…that sounds nice. Though I want your homemade curry, I’ve been craving Japanese food for so long and New York and LA doesn’t even beat the meals that you make!”

Bakugou laughed, his heart feeling so overwhelmingly content. “Well then, I’ll bring you some food tomorrow. You’ll be jet lag and all.”

You groaned cutely. “Oh god, yeah. I’ll probably be sleeping all morning tomorrow. But at least I’ll have something to look forward to when I wake up.” You smiled.

Bakugou nodded, and you pulled him into a hug that surprised him at first but he wrapped his arms around you ever so gently and warmly. The two of you just wrapped in each other’s arms for a few seconds, enjoying the quiet night that Bakugou wished could last forever.

“I’m glad you’re back, Y/N.” He whispered softly in your ear that made you shivered with happiness. “I…I’ve missed you.” He added ever so quietly in a way that it sounded like he was talking to himself. But you still heard those words and it made you hug him a bit tighter.

You tucked your head into his shoulder and whispered out a soft “me too.”

When the two of you parted away, you both exchanged goodbyes once more, but this time, there was a layer of love and excitement in the air. Bakugou glanced at the door behind you, and the sudden reminder of Shindo who was still in there came to mind. Bakugou has never felt so happy in his whole entire life, knowing that you had the same feelings he had for you. But seeing the shadows on the windows, the sudden flash of Shindo’s disapproving face re-resurfaced. He had a feeling that you didn’t know that Shindo actually liked you. And sure! He only met the guy today but his gut instincts knew better that the faces he gave to Bakugou plus his expression whenever he looked at you, it was something more than just a friendship. But before Bakugou could even dive deeper into this thought as he turned towards the gate, you stopped him.

“Katsuki—! Wait.” You called, causing him to turn his head once more at you. But before he could even ask what’s wrong, you slipped a hand through his and stepped on your tippy toes as you planted a warm kiss on his cheek, holding it there for a few seconds. Bakugou widened his eyes for a quick second, and just like magic, that kiss washed his doubts about you and Shindo down the drain. It was like a message that you were his—as dominating as that sound. But it nevertheless made him less tensed.

You swallowed a lump on your throat as you parted away. A little embarrassed at your sudden move but when you saw Bakugou’s face glowed, you smiled and nodded. Words didn’t need to be said for the two of you to understand each other.

“Have a goodnight, okay? Drive safe.” You waved before turning your back to return to the house.

“Yeah,” Bakugou smiled as he tucked his hands into his pocket, turning to the front gate once more. “I will.”

And with that, the two of you parted your ways, with bright smiles and warm hearts that continued to simultaneously flow in the air.

—————

“Cuz I know I’ll have to take you guys home!” Shindo heard Momo from the living room said as he carried the trash bags into the kitchen.

“Uhm.., where should I place these?” Shindo asked Awase who was washing a few cups in the sink.

Awase pointed at the corner besides him where all the other bags were laid. “You can leave them here Thanks, man.”

Before Shindo nodded respectfully at him, he heard you and the girls burst out into a loud laughter, making him turn to the direction of the sound coming from the main room. His eyes softened, as if reminiscing precious memories from a time. And in all honestly, his attention was just focused on your laughter. The melody that he can always listen to and never get tired of.

Shindo had never believed “love at first sight.” But when he first saw you in New York, his heart bloomed in a way that he has never felt before and he was so interested in you ever since. Of course, he kept cool about it, but since he was such an open and honest guy, he always slipped in a move here and there, hoping to grab your attention or sneak in hints, to show that what you meant to him was in a way that was more than a friend.

After cleaning up, Awase takes a sip of his beer, glancing at Shindo’s still turned-head for a moment before saying, “You like her, don’t you?”

Shindo looked stunned as he immediately shot his head back at Awase. His heart pounded in his chest when he heard the question. “H-how did you know?”

Awase smirked. “I know that feeling, dude. That’s how I felt when I met Momo,” He said, tilting his head towards the living room where his girlfriend was.

“I don’t want anyone to find out,” Shindo said quietly as he rested his elbows on the kitchen island across Awase.

“Of course. This is just between me and you.” Awase replied respectfully, knowing what Shindo is going thorough, having a similar experience himself.

Shindo smiled at him appreciatively. He cleared his throat. “And uhm, I know that we just met and all…but do…do you you know if Y/N is involved with anyone—like, romantically?”

Awase pondered on that comment seriously for a moment. “I don’t really know, man. I think Kirishima and the others will know since they were all in the same class as her since U.A. But…from what I’ve heard from my girlfriend, I don’t think so.”

“Not even, uhm, Bakugou?” Shindo slid in the question curiously.

“Y/N and Bakugou!?” Awase laughed. “I’ve never heard of that before! Who gave you the idea?”

Shindo just shrugged, not wanting to say why he asked. Ever since the day he accidentally saw your phone lock screen of you and Bakugou in your days in U.A when your phone dinged on his table, his suspicion arose. Of course it wasn’t much, but the way you talked about him was different compared to the others…

“Hey,” Awase said, interrupting his thoughts. “From what I’ve learned… you can wait to get the answers, or just be honest with her.”

“Be honest with her?”

Awase shrugged. “Yeah. In fact you can even tell her how you feel now, most of her friends are returning home now.”

Shindo nodded appreciatively at him and smiled. “Thanks man, really.”

“You got it, and don’t worry,” Awase reassured when he saw Shindo’s mouth open again. “I’ll keep things low-key.”

Shindo smiled again and walked back towards the main room to find you. Awase was right. After all that you two of been through for the past couple weeks there was a new foundation built upon your friendship—trust. And he trusted you that you can at least understand his feelings. Shindo knew he told everyone that he came back to Tokyo for a change of environment and for hero work…but that wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Because in all transparency, he came back for you too…and maybe its because he has loved working with you, or maybe it was the way you described Tokyo to him in New York made him really miss home…

Or maybe it’s because he was falling in love with you.

Shindo made his way to the living room and called out your name, but his high emotions toppled over when he saw you standing with Bakugou in the now empty living room, alone.

He doesn’t really hate Bakugou, but ever since he had his suspicion, he couldn’t look at him the same way. And sure, it may be unfair of him to act like that but when he saw the way Bakugou locked eyes with him, he knew something was up that confirmed his suscpisoun. He could feel this unprecedented tension in the air between him and Bakugou—almost like an undeclared challenge.

Shindo mustered up the courage as he walked towards you with a smile. “Hey, I know it’s pretty late. Do you want me to take you home?”

“Oh!” You replied when you noticed Shindo. “No, it’s fine, really!”

“You sure?”

You smiled at him which made Shindo’s stomach flutter with butterflies. “Yeah, thank you though.”

“Well then,” Shindo turned to Bakugou and then back to you, hesitating just a bit about his next act act. His gaze turned serious and he lowered his voice so almost only you could hear him. “Can… Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”

Shindo saw you opened your mouth slowly. “Oh! Bakugou was actually talking—“

“It’s fine, Y/N” Bakugou cut in, looking at Shindo and then back to you. “It’s not important, really. Actually…I think I’m going to head out.”

“Bakugou, wait—“

“Y/N,” Bakugou continued. “Seriously, we can chat again later some time. Plus, since you’re back, we can finally hang out like we used too.”

Shindo glared at Bakugou. He felt his heart ache when he heard that, knowing that the two of you are pretty close. But finally when you agreed, you and Shindo stepped aside for more space.

You turned your head at Shindo and noticed his serious expression. “Is there something wrong?”

Shindo blinked his eyes and cleared his throat. “N-no! I mean, not anything super important. Actually, Y/N… I just wanted to—“

Click!

Before Shindo could continue, your head shot to where the door was just closed and you saw Bakugou’s shadow exit out of the house. Shindo saw you turned your head back towards him as you bit your lip.

“Shindo, I’m so sorry. Can you give me a few minutes really quick?” You said with the kindest smile you had.

Shindo looked at you with a tinge of solemn in his eyes as he smiled. His gut feeling knew what you were about to do, but he didn’t want to force you to listen to him and so he smiled and nodded, earning you a brighter smile on your face that Shindo loved.

“Thank you.” You said as you grabbed his hand and giving it a squeeze.

Shindo saw you run towards the door, not hesitating a bit to open it immediately.

And when you exited, Shindo gave out a sigh. This was a lot harder than he expected. He headed towards the table near the door to pack up some of his things that he laid near, but his mistake was when he glanced up at the window. His eyes widened and sucked in a breath when he saw you standing near the front gate with Bakugou.

It looked like it was all happening in slow motion.

The way you slipped your hand through his. The cute way you leaned in closer a few inches with the tip of your toes and kissed him on the cheek.

It wasn’t an actual real kiss, but still...Shindo felt a surge of jealously come crashing down on him. He swallowed a lump in his throat as a mixture of anger and sadness stirred in him. And as he saw you wave goodbye to Bakugou, Shindou looked away in sadness as his stomach dropped and his once cool smile now turned into a deep frown.

He felt like he lost you — even though he never really had you in the beginning.

But maybe there’s still a chance for him to confess how he feels.

Because even if you don’t share the same feelings as him...he’ll still find release… that at least the person he loves …. knows.

Yeah… Shindo thought to himself quietly as he pulled out his sunglasses, getting ready to leave. He knew he couldn’t say it now…not after what he just witnessed. So with a sharp glide of his hand like a professional, he slipped on his sunglasses and beanie ever so smoothly and picked up his bags.

I’ll come back to you Y/N…you’ll see.

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A/N ~ oh gosh, yo shindo vs. bakugou. this love triangle just suddenly appeared and i’ll need to figure out how to unravel this mess. But thank you to everyone who read this fic! I know it is longer than my usual works so words cannot express how much it means to me. Thank you 💗 Please do not hesitate to send me a message through my inbox on about this fic (WHOSE TEAM R U ON?!) or about anything! Let’s just say...next chapter will def. be more about the charming Yo Shindo ;)

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #yo shindo #yo shindo x reader #shindo x reader #bnha fanfic

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brainrot-the-frog · 3 years

Text

Moments in time | Hashira

《Imagines》《Inspired by KNY Imagines [to the moon] on Tumblr》

This post contains spoilers for Kimetsu No Yaiba/Demon slayer!

《6:02, AM》《Mitsuri Kanroji》

You chuckled as you felt sweet kisses tickle your neck up to your jaw.

"Mitsuri! We must get up!"

You said with barely any force behind your words, truly, you didn't want to leave your bed, you didn't want to have to leave Mitsuri either.

And man did she know that.

She subtly held and pinned your hands as she continued to kiss you. Her lips connected with every bit of skin on your face and neck, until finally, her lips made contact with yours.

One word. It took one word for you to completely give in and be at her mercy. She gave you a kiss so tender you forgot to breathe, she inched her lips to your ears and whispered smoothly,

"Stay..."

《7:34, AM》《Shinobu Kochou》

"You need to slow down! You're going to choke!"

Shinobu yelled as she flailed her arms in front of your figure, you were downing every rice ball, oatmeal, eggs, and meat on the table you shared. You were beyond hungry for whatever reason, and Shinobu merely watched blankly as you began to choke violently.

"My, my, what did I tell you?" She huffed before expertly delivering pressure to your stomach and in one extra push, the piece of food escaped your mouth. You began panting in a crouched form, with your lover crouched in front of you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you so much... I'm sorry for not listening...." you said as Shinobu offered you a glass of water. You let out a much needed exhale as you drank it all.

"My~ you'd truly be dead without me hm?"

"I would." The two of you chuckled until suddenly you inched closer, Shinobu gave the smile of a vixen before swiftly connecting her lips with yours. She cupped your face and deepened the kiss until you departed for air.

"But to be frank...." she stroked your cheek lovingly and gave you a genuine smile only you were capable of getting from her.

"I wouldn't be able to live without you too..."

《9:15, AM》《Sanemi Shinazugawa》

"Oi Sanemi! I've brought you some ohagi!" You grinned as you held a plate of ohagi in your hands. You realized Sanemi was training and thought it would be a nice treat.

"Took you long enough..." he sat down next to you and gratefully took the treat and downed it with ease.

You chuckled in seeing the little bits of ohagi remains on the outskirts of his mouth.

"Why the hell are you laughing? What's so funny?" You covered your mouth to suppress a snicker, though it still urked Sanemi for the sudden secrecy.

"Whatever.." he glared slightly.

"I want another one.." Sanemi leaned in your direction, not noticing the fact your eyes were on his lips. Swiftly you took a small bite of the ohagi in your hands before planting your lips on Sanemi's.

His eyes grew wide in suprise, the sweet decadent taste of the dessert amplified the effect of your lips, Sanemi was reduced to a vulnerable shell as you pressed on. You departed for air, your eyes opened slowly to see the surprised face of your lover.

"I think...." you licked your lips.

"I made the ohagi too sweet again," you cooed slyly.

《11:54, AM》《Kyojuro Rengoku》

"You must hone your body to become the best version of yourself! I believe in you!!" Kyojuro remained enthusiastic even at the sight of your sweating, slightly dead body panting a storms worth.

"EASY FOR YOU TO SAY! NO MATTER WHAT VERSION YOU'RE STILL THE BEST!" His eyes went wider, much to your surprise. He smiled a soft, and loving smile you couldn't look away from no matter how bright.

"I believe in you okay? I know you think I'm going hard on you but that's because I know you're destined for greatness. But I understand that forcing you will not help... you may train at your own pace, I still believe in you no matter what." You swear your heart leaped to your throat as he said each word like honey, his loving eyes and smile were toppings on the cake.

"Y-you.." you were at a loss for words at the short vulnerable moment Kyojuro had given to you without much thought.

"I love you so much.." you embraced him, he smiled as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"No matter what happens I will love you always."

You remember him saying as you wiped your tears into the familiar white haori decorated with flames.

《1:30, PM》《Muichiro Tokito》

"Are you thinking about him again?" Muichirou rested at your side, you hugged the white haori tighter as he put his arm around your shoulder.

"I miss him too, I really do. But he wouldn't want you to mourn him. He'd want you to be strong and become the best version of yourself..." he rested his head on your shoulder as he sighed.

"But for me... I'm fine with your mourning, crying, and sadness.. I don't want you to bottle your emotions, I want them to be free without constraint, without judgement...." he trailed off his words... his eyes now viewing the sun rays outside.

"Come.." he softly lifted you up, his hand giving you support to walk. As the light came into view you were stunned by the warmth of the sun. It came down upon you as if you were a stranded boat in a violent sea, feeding you with peace and hope.

Like he did.

"Thank you Muichirou..." you kissed his cheek and laid your head on his shoulder.

"Anything for you..." you didn't know it..

But he needed just as much comfort as you did.

《4:42, PM》《Iguro Obanai》

"Kaburamaru.. what're you doing here?" The Ivory serpent head butted your cheek, a small hiss escaping its mouth, as if they were trying to tell you something.

"Where's Iguro?" Kaburamaru wrapped around your lifted arm, you felt a slight pull at it coming from the snake. You trudged forward as you sang a soft tune, your plan was to visit Iguro anyway, so Kaburamaru's arrival was anything but an interruption.

You found yourself at the entrance of his estate, you knew well that he probably would be sleeping by now, you also knew that the Snake Pillar usually sleeps on tree branches.

It didn't take you long to find him since his black and white haori was an eyecatcher in the crowd of brown and green.

You stared upward at his sleeping face, Kaburamaru left your arm and slithered to Iguro's. That movement wasn't enough to wake him though, but you knew what was.

"I–Gu–Ro~!" You trudged up, and you were just able to to meet your face with his, you kissed the cloth that covered his lips, you felt him lean forward into the lip lock as his eyes began to open.

"Good morning.." he yawned.

"It's 4 o' clock silly!"

《6:56, PM》《Gyomei Himejima》

"I must ask... why do you choose to hang around me like this?" Gyomei asked, the two of you were sat outside near a lake. You were being hugged from behind by Gyomei.

"Because you're always working! I never get time with you!" You heard a chuckle as deep as the ocean, Gyomei rested his head on yours.

"I have a duty, as a Pillar, I must work twice as hard. You understand, no?" You sighed as you leaned into his embrace, his touch brought you peace albeit your thoughts were anything but. You had to talk about them.

"You need time for yourself, you need to work at your own pace and not do anything so taxing.. I know you're one of the most strongest humans alive, but even you have a limit, I'm telling you about this because I care about you.."��You turned around to face him, his mouth was slightly ajar, he didn't expect you to say that. Ever.

Tears. Suddenly he was tearing up, your first instict was to wipe them away however they poured and poured.

"I–I understand.. perhaps.. I could treat myself to some peace... with you?" He didn't even have to ask. You smiled, then passionately kissed him.

"I love you.." you whispered out to him.

"I love you too."

《8:21, PM》《Giyuu Tomioka》

"Ouch!" You hissed as Giyuu carefully rubbed healing ointment on your wounded arm. He tried to be as gentle as possible however it still stung.

"This is why I told you not to stray so far," he said blankly, but you could sense the undertones of worry as well as the boiling frustration that began to grow.

"I wasn't aware of the other Kizuki's presence, I didn't expect the demons to be together at all—" You grunted in pain as Giyuu tightened the bandages on your arm.

"Which is why I told you not to be so reckless and idiotic! You fail to understand your own limits! I hate it!" You swore that if he kept tightening the bandages, he'd rip up a dozen more injuries.

"G–Giyuu! Stop it!" You gasped as you retreated your arm, you could visibly see the veins in your arms.

"I–" his eyes went wide as he realized what he had just done. "I'm so sorry– please forgive me–!" You tackle hugged him to the floor, without thought his arms wrapped around your waist, enveloping you in a tight warm embrace.

"I know you're frustrated, and I understand you only did that out of worry.. but you have to understand I'm not so fragile and soft, Giyuu. However, you are one of the only people that can make me that way... I did what I did, so you didn't have to." There was silence as you cupped his face with your hands. You let out a sad smile at the sight of his eyes. Dark, but filled with so much emotion.

"I can't lose you, I won't lose anyone else.." he whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere," you softly gave him a kiss, the feel of your lips reducing him to a baby.

"No matter what happens, I will love you always."

《11:11, PM》《Tengen Uzui》

"why are you up so late?"

Tengen came up from behind you and kissed your shoulder, you smiled as his hands were carefully placed on your once cold ones. You were staring back at the glowing moon, its breathtaking shine rained down upon the two of you. Making the moment even sweeter.

"I believe this is the time of night where one makes a wish." You turned to give Tengen a kiss before looking back at the moon.

"Oh? Have you thought of any wishes?" He asked, holding you tighter.

"Hm.. maybe to be more flamboyant?" You smiled in seeing the look of utter bewilderment your husband gave you.

"You are the love of my life! So naturally you have reached maximum flamboyance! You're wasting your wish Love! Think of another!" You giggled like a child.

You loved and cherished every moment you've spent with the man beside you, but you also cherished the time you've spent with the others.

Slowly but surely, the answer came to you.

"I wish to spend every moment in time, with the ones I love."

(I'm bringing all of my old works from my Quotev to Tumblr! It'll take a while since I've written a lot!)

#kny x reader #kny giyuu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu mitsuri #kimetsu gyomei #gyomei himejima #shinobu kochou #muichiro tokito #kny sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #mitsuri x reader #kny iguro #kny rengoku #kny tengen

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

Text

pretty eyes.

you love diego hargreeves pretty eyes, sober and drunk off your rocker. only, when its the latter, it’s a little harder to hold back your eager compliments.

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WARNINGS & DETAILS: gender!neutral reader. mention of alcohol & drinking, some fighting later on in the chapter (it’ll make sense when it comes), idiots being idiots, mutual pining, a tad bit of angst. WORD COUNT: 6.5k NOTES: at the end (read please).

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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“DO YOU KNOW WHY THE SKY’S BLUE?”

Diego didn’t look back, but from the sounds of tiny pants and dull clunks of shoes hitting the ground, he knew enough to paint a picture. You, struggling to rid yourself of the coat he forced you to put on, dropping the heels you claimed you hated so vehemently, all the while probably grinning from ear to ear like he imagined little kids looked on Christmas Day. He knew you’d be waiting for his answer, just as you always did, expecting something greater than he could give you in his own flustered state.

Sometimes you were predictable. But he liked that about you.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“No, silly! I’m asking you!”

“Oh.” His tongue danced across his bottom lip, wetting the chapped skin before responding. “I dunno. Sorry.”

Only a sparkling laugh and a thump answered him. He whirled around to see you flat on your butt on the ground, staring up at him with drooping doe eyes. It would be an irresistibly pretty sight, if he knew it wasn’t from extreme inebriation and you were completely off your rocker at the moment.

Still, pretty.

“Help me up?” You laughed, waving your hands aimlessly towards him. “Puh-lease?”

Diego grimaced slightly but moved anyways. He grabbed at your hands (clammy, another symptom of your heavy drinking choices) and yanked you towards him. Only he overestimated you and greatly underestimated his own strength it seemed -- instead of lifting to your feet like any normal person, you practically flew towards him, landing just under his chin and flopping against his chest.

And Diego froze.

Normally he would have pulled away and shrugged it off as a mistake. Neither of you would mention it again and would move on with your lives, forgetting how close your bodies had been and the way your gaze was intoxicating upon itself. He had rules for those things; never getting too close to a friend who made his heart beat in a rather unfriendly way was one of them.

But as you looked up at him, still smiling dopily and eyes almost crossed, he couldn’t remember a single thing about rules or precautions or anything of the sort. All that was on Diego’s mind, was you.

Your smile softened a tad, painted lips closing over your teeth and only hinting at the dimples he had stared at many-a-time before. Up close, he could see flecks of black under your eyes, staining flushed skin with ebony freckles that no one could believe was natural. He didn’t know the word for it, but guessed it was from you rubbing at your eyes and forgetting you had painted them hours before. Despite it, you still looked absolutely radiant.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

Diego blinked, startled by your giggled statement. “W-what?”

“Sooo pretty,” you gushed. One of your hands left his chest -- he hadn’t even realised they had been pressed there, but he suddenly missed the warm sensation -- and caressed his cheek. He shuddered at the touch. “Maybe the pre...prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

If merely standing near you was heart-attack inducing, Diego was certain that all this was going to explode the vessel. Any second at that point, it would just burst and coat your grinning face with its guts--

-- he shook his head, ridding himself of both that image and the foolish thoughts flooding around it. You were drunk. Everyone said and did stupid stuff when they were drunk. Right? Like the time he lost a fight with a lamp post -- he wouldn’t do that sober, but alcohol made everyone a fool. You just chose compliments over actions, maybe.

The saying ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ lingered in his mind for half a second, but he pushed it away. That only worked in late night television or shitty rom-coms, not reality. Not with them.

“You should get to bed,” Diego said gruffly, pulling away from your fingers. He didn’t miss the flash of disappointment on your face, but tried to push it away for his own emotions’ sake. “You’re gonna want to, ‘fore all this hits.”

“You should smile more.”

Diego froze. He didn’t turn back to her that time, knowing it would only hurt him more, but he couldn’t bring himself to move another inch.

“Your eyes are fu...cking beautiful, but your smile?” Clapping echoed paces behind him; his jaw clenched with every smack. “Diego, you’re so pretty!”

He reached behind him blindly, scrambling and feeling stupid before finally launching onto you. Still avoiding your charming smile, he pulled you along, leading you out and into your bedroom. “I’ll be back to get you some Advil. Sit down.”

“I wish you’d smile more,” you said, completely ignoring every word he said. You fell down to your bed with a plop. “It lights up those pretty pretty, pretty eyes so much...so fucking pretty, Diego! I can’t even think of any other words, that’s how be-yew-tiful you are.”

“Okay, I--”

“-- and you always look so grumpy. It’s so funny!”

Diego should have been long gone, at that point. For his own sake and for yours, because you would hate that you rambled on so much, and he was going to pay for the emotional turmoil you were putting him through. But he couldn’t. He simply stood, still and awkward in your bedroom doorway, watching as you tried to twist your face to look like his own.

It didn’t work at all. Your lips fought angrily to smile again, and your eyelids just drooped, so far you looked stoned, or maybe like a zombie ready to bite. But even if you looked beyond ridiculous, his mind still screamed at how adorable it was, and despite himself, Diego smiled.

“See! See, there - there it is!” You pointed frantically at his own face, like he didn’t know it was there. “God, I wish I had a mirror to show you how pretty you are! Lil...lil sunshine boy!”

Okay, ‘sunshine boy’ was new. It took a little bit of the piss out of everything, and he was able to grumble and walk away finally from your singing self. Calls of his name paired with nonsensical titles followed. Diego tried his best to ignore them, but he knew the coos would haunt him later. Even as he searched for a glass, the sounds bounced through his head like injured bats in a cave; no way out and too blind to escape, forced to flit around endlessly until someone ended their suffering.

But Diego, unfortunately, did not know how to do that. So he simply bore the weight of your compliments knowing that they were nothing but sounds and syllables made up by a confused mind, trying to push through the night with as little baggage as possible.

As he walked back to your room, he sighed. This wasn’t how he planned things to go. It had been a good night -- sure, he might not have had as much fun as you looked like you were having, dancing and drinking and laughing, but at least he was with you. And he liked that, and the lax nature you took on when you drank, making him feel less pressure about constantly being the best version of himself. He hadn’t felt like he needed to put on a show, he was just Diego, for better or for worse. And somehow, you didn’t mind that.

He only wished that he could have more than that and all the time.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat after the word came out garbled. “Uh - got you this, you’re gonna want to drink it and take these now. Okay? And I’m putting these here for tomorrow morning, so you can take that as soon as you’re up. You got that?”

Your head bobbed up and down excitedly, but he knew you didn’t take in a word he said. So as you swallowed the tablets and gulped down the water, he scribbled out a note to remind you of what definitely went right over your head.

Diego paused, pen slightly trembling in his hand, before jotting down two more sentences. Thanks for last night. Had a good time being with you, as always. He hesitated, hovering over the slip of paper before cursing and scribbling out the lines with added violence. He tried again, being a little bit more poetic (which wasn’t much, but words really were not his thing) only to be disappointed again, pushing down on the pen so hard he was sure it would burst. Once he was sure nothing but scribbles could be made of the mess, he put the note under the Advil bottle and stepped away.

“You wanna change out of that?” He asked, gesturing to your clothes. “Doubt that’s comfortable.”

“Nah,” you drawled. You smiled up at him and even dared to wink (it was more of a sloppy, half-assed blink, but it still made his head swim). “I’m just comfortable. Do...you…’re you comfortable?”

Diego chose not to answer that. He pushed you back gently, deciding not to fight with you on changing and instead just going with sleep. You didn’t fight him much. If anything you leaned into it, holding onto his hands for seconds longer than you should and mumbling sweet nonsense up at him.

“You know,” you sang, “you know what, Di...Diego?”

He didn’t pause. “What?”

“I would do anything...and everything...in order to make you smile forever. You know? Anything.”

Those were the words that weighed heaviest on Diego’s conscience as he drove back to his place. It was as though they had erased everything else, anything that had happened that day or any time before and just left that in its place. He didn’t know why, but they stuck, and as he wove through the dimly lit streets, your voice floated about like a bodiless apparition, set to destroy his mind and drive him mad.

Diego had had his heart broken several times before. It happened almost easily in his childhood, normally by the hands of his vindictive father. He had learned how to patch it up, sew up the cracks and try to make it so it wouldn’t happen again, and eventually he got better at that. But it shattered again when Ben died, and he realised that they were just kids, forced to play heroes in a horrifically gruesome world they didn’t belong in. That took a while to mend, but he did, until he screwed up at the police academy and Patch left him too. After that he had let the fragments just sit in piles in his chest, digging at his ribs and leaving him winded after long nights in the cold darkness. He hadn’t cared; he thought that was what was expected of him. Nothing but a broken heart to hold him when the nightmares got too bad.

But when you came along, he didn’t have to stitch himself back together. You did it for him. Somehow without him noticing you had snuck into his chest and unravelled the poor stitchwork and blotted out the stains left that he hadn’t bothered to clean up. Over time, you had managed to make it almost brand new again, and it was a whole new experience of smiling and watching as you failed to finish your joke again, only because you were already laughing too hard. Of getting wasted on Wednesday’s when your job sucked more and dancing down the streets up to your apartment, uncaring of those who watched. Of you chiding him for the cuts and bruises collected from his vigilante expeditions, but always being there to wash them out and make a fresh pot of tea. Of you, merely existing, and allowing him to bask in your sunshine a while longer.

But hearing those soft words leave your drunken lips, spilling out like tar from someone so angelic, hurt. Diego didn’t think that was possible with you.

He sighed, turning down the street towards the gym. It would be a sleepless night again.

YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING CONFUSED AND ACHING.

Not as much as you normally would be, which was a nice change of pace -- you assumed you had enough common sense to take premature headache meds, knowing how bad the hangover got for them. But your drunken self did not have the thought of changing out of your stiff, uncomfortable going-out clothes, instead draping yourself across the mattress smelling like the shitty bar you had careened in and leaving every part of your body pissed off. Sweaty fabric clung to your skin, leaving you feeling soggy and misworn and eagerly wishing you could have made better choices earlier.

You groaned and slipped out of the comforter, already missing its heavy warmth. Slowly you staggered over to your desk where you must have left the Advil for that morning. “Thank you, past me,” you sighed, twisting open the cap with a grimace.

A paper caught your eye, small amongst the stacks of work files you had yet to comb through. Downing one pill, you grabbed it, taking in the scribbled letters through tired, squinting eyes.

Leaving this for you because you’re too drunk to remember what I said. Take these and drink water before you die of a hangover. I’d hate to find your body that way. Also left your things on your kitchen counter, they’re not stolen. Also left your burrito in your microwave -- you insisted on buying one last night, so don’t forget about it. Take care.

Underneath were two lines of thick black scribbles, covering up whatever was written under that and leaving only a scrawled ‘Diego’ as your final clue. But, despite whatever mystery the pen covered up, you smiled and pinned the note to your bulletin board.

“Thanks, bud,” you grinned, speaking like he was there to hear. “Hope I wasn’t too annoying last night.”

You went about your morning with a smile despite the pounding pulverising your muscles, and enjoying the lazy Sunday hours spent cleaning up. You even spoiled yourself with a long shower, eating up your hot water minutes with joy, knowing you’d hate yourself for it two weeks later. After an hour of cleaning up, washing your face free of the makeup smudged across your cheeks and devouring that burrito left for you, you finally felt refreshed and better about things.

You glanced up at the time. Diego would be up, probably manning the desk for Al as he did most Sunday’s (the facet of his job he hated most). But, at least that meant he would be available to take your call. You missed him, even after seeing him just the night before, and selfishly craved the distraction of his low rasp. Maybe you could even make him laugh, cheer him up during his boring shift.

But five minutes later, you were left disappointed when none of the three calls went through. You tried not to think too hard on it -- he was a busy guy, and was either working or doing his other line of work, and ignoring your call meant nothing. Course, it probably didn’t look good for a boxing gym, but...you’d settle.

You would just call back later. He would definitely be available to talk then.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE YOU LAST TALKED TO DIEGO, which was the longest either of you had gone without even speaking to one another in the history of your friendship.

On its own, the fact wasn’t so troubling. You were both working adults who had their own lives to sort through, jobs and bills and other friends that you didn’t like half as much as each other, grocery shopping and patrolling the streets alike, filling up both schedules easily. But the two of you were closer than that, and definitely more than just friends that saw each other every other week. You didn’t care about those friends like you cared about Diego.

And it hurt, that he was going to such lengths to avoid you.

Every time you stopped by his gym, Diego was gone. Al simply shrugged off your questions with a non-committal ‘I don’t keep track of the shithead’ and even when you went to knock on his door to check if he was lying, you got nothing. No regulars knew either, which was strange; he always liked to spend his afternoons training with a couple people, sometimes you if you showed up at the right time. You considered doing just that and waiting for him to show -- but even after hours of sparring, the man was nowhere to be seen.

You had tried everything, to the point where Al was annoyed and you felt like you were losing your mind. Surely Diego hadn’t just disappeared off the face of the earth. That didn’t seem right or possible and you knew you hadn’t made him up, because you had the pictures and notes to prove it. You could see his face, disgruntled and sometimes smiling in the photos you had snapped of him -- so why couldn’t you find it anywhere else?

With all options exhausted, you gave up for a few days, allowing yourself the chance to catch your breath. However, with that came the exhaustive process of trying to figure out why on earth Diego was avoiding you. And unfortunately, all that linked back to your last night spent together, and the bitter realisation that you must have fucked up the night somehow and left him not wanting to see you again.

And that thought broke you.

Thursday night was spent crying alone on your couch, trying to push past the depressing thoughts and failing miserably. You couldn’t remember half of what you did that night, but you knew he hadn’t been drinking as much as you, and alcohol always rendered you a ranting, rambling fool that he must have had to deal with. He had got you home, but for what? And what if it was all in that stupid note he had left you, scribbling out the real reason he was leaving you high and dry?

You threw the note out that night, staring down at it in the trash with tears pooling in your eyes. If only you could know why.

The issue was, Diego was more than just a friend to you. Sure your relationship had been built on totally platonic foundations, but it soon blossomed into so much more. He was a companion, your partner, the man who made you feel comfortable enough to wheeze into laughter-induced tears with, or just sob against his shoulder without feeling judged. He was the guy who brought you fast food when you forgot about dinner when work ran late, and the one who let you sleep over when you didn’t want to be alone. He made you smile by just being there -- like, you would open your door (or window, usually) and just grin like an idiot at the mere sight of his face. He was just Diego, but that meant more to you than you had ever been able to say.

Maybe, hell, you loved him. Was that so bad? It hadn’t been intentional to fall -- one day you had just been eating pizza on your countertop way too late in the night, and you looked over and realised your heart had only ever fluttered so violently for him. That he was the guy you could imagine spending the rest of your days with and never getting bored. Of course, you didn’t act on it, knowing that it was a platonic relationship and admitting such would destroy it completely -- but that didn’t mean your official break-up didn’t hurt any less.

You skipped work Friday, something you never did.

When your coworkers called, you wrote it off as illness related, while still drowning in the sorrow of being left high and dry.

Friends hit you up to make some ‘end of the week’ plans, but you ignored them.

You fell asleep at nine that night -- the earliest you had in aeons.

You stayed in bed for most of Saturday, staring at the ceiling or the photos pinned to your walls of the two of you, wondering if this was all just a weird dream you were going to wake up from.

Six hours later, you hadn’t woken up from your dream, but you had made up your mind.

One hour after that, at almost ten o’clock at night, you were rolling up to that same boxing gym you had haunted for that week, dressed in dark activewear and parked a ways away from the actual space. Steely-eyed and with your jaw clenched, you marched out the vehicle and into the building, knowing full well what you were going to find. You had a plan, and whatever it took, you were going to put it into motion.

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest plan, and maybe you had only just come up with it, with barely any time to consider it’s workability and whether or not you were just throwing words together, but nevertheless, you persisted.

You were going to get Diego back.

“DIEGO FUCKING HARGREEVES,”

The man, back turned away, stiffened and immediately went to move,

“run and I will end you, boy,” you growled, stomping towards him with force; he could practically feel each stomp echoing in his chest, cracking him down to the size of a pea. Somehow, he couldn’t move, frozen in place by your command. “Okay?!”

“H-hey, I--”

“--why the hell have you been avoiding me?!”

His eyes were wide and panicked and frantically, he searched all around for a way out. Unfortunately, your body in front of him blocked his only exit, leaving him stammering for answers you knew he didn’t easily have. “Look, I--”

“--I have been worried and scared and sad and out of my mind this entire week,” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his tank top, pushing him back in his steps. Your anger dug deep into him, thorns grabbing onto every bit of vulnerable flesh -- and the worst part was, you were absolutely right. “You know that? I have called everywhere I could -- I even called the police, wondering if you were in custody and I just missed that news drop. But no, you were just gone, avoiding me for who knows what reason!”

“I didn’t--”

“--what did I do, Diego? What happened, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing.”

“Then why won’t you even look me in the eyes?” you hissed back, staring up at him in hopes he would catch your gaze. But he didn’t; his eyes still looked far away from yours, searching for something to give him a way out with. “You won’t even look at me, that’s how pissed off you are at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I get if I did something wrong, but you can’t just pull away from me like that -- this friendship isn’t built on shit like that. I can’t cope with this void left by you deciding you don’t like me anymore!”

“That’s not what happened,” he insisted, his own voice raising in volume. “I swear!”

“Then what, Diego? What possible reason could you have that isn’t related to me doing something wrong? Because that’s all the evidence I got out of this and unlike you, I have zero detective skills so I’m working on one freakin’ theory here!”

His eyes averted to the ground, staring down at the both of your feet, one pair tapping angrily and the other shuffling in hopes of escape. He felt himself folding in, a habit he had broken a long time ago with you, one he thought he had killed off forever. But apparently it hadn’t.

“You can’t even answer me,” you shuddered. Your sneakers squeaked against the shiny linoleum, leading you back a step. “You - I don’t understand this. At all. And you can’t even give me an answer why? D-don’t I deserve a reason for why I hurt you, Diego?”

“No, c’mon. I…” he hesitated once more as expected. Whatever he was planning on saying died in his mouth and thickened his tongue, leaving him once again stumbling for an excuse. He felt your eyes on him as well as his father, reproachfully clicking his tongue at once again, his stuttering, bumbling fool of a son. “I did...I didn’t…”

“Forget it. Screw this.”

“W-wait, don’t leave--”

“--I’m not leaving!”

He froze, holding onto your bicep in an attempt to stop you. Slowly, his hand fell away, “w-what?”

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, and slowly he watched as a devilish smile stained your cheeks, pulling away the angry lines of before. “I didn’t come here to leave, I came here for answers. And I guess I just have to fight you for ‘em.”

At that point, Diego’s head had been through the wringer so much, he felt like it could just pop off if he wasn’t careful. And yet still, his eyes bugged out and he stared at you in complete shock, unsure just how he was supposed to process that last sentence.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing at all, “c’mon. I know you’re better with the physical stuff and I wanna catch you off guard, finally get an answer out of you. I’m gonna, like, fight you for the truth.”

He watched as you toed off your shoes and shrugged off your thin jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with little care. You seemed ready, like you had planned this all along -- and had you? What was the reason behind all this? Was there something that he just wasn’t getting, in his state of emotional disarray? Or were you just losing your mind because of him?

“L-look, I’m s-sorry, but I,” he paused, trying to form the syllables in his mouth so they weren’t so thick and jumbled. “I can’t just fight you.”

“Sure you can. We spar all the time.”

“But w-w-why?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted and fell; ever the nonchalant dramatic. “Call it a bet. I win, you tell me why you avoided me for so long. And if you win, which you probably won’t but if you do…” you grimaced. “I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

Diego baulked. “I don’t want that.”

“Clearly you do,” you jabbed back. “Right?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

You huffed; clearly you didn’t believe him, but you also seemed set on the idea that you were definitely going to win, so he wasn’t sure where he stood in that. “Fine, pick your prize and keep it to yourself. I don’t care.”

Diego still hesitated, hovering to the side as you wrapped your hands. There seemed no way out of the situation, but surely there had to be - surely you weren’t just going to hop into the ring for an explanation.

Was this some ill-fated revenge?

You must have noticed his expression, because he heard you laughing from a whiles away. “I’m not looking to hurt you, Diego. Trust me, no matter what you do, I’d never want to do that.”

His heart fluttered.

“It’s just,” you cocked your head, thinking over your words before smiling again, “like you said when you first started training me. Freestyle, baby.”

You had deepened your voice tremendously to mock his own -- and while it was a horrible impression, it did call back to the one you did before of him. Not that you seemed to remember that, you had been piss drunk, but the thought still made him cringe.

All this, because of him. He screwed it all up and for what?

“Rules are the same as always. First person to pin the other down for more than five beats wins. No serious hits, so like, don’t break my nose or anything.”

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, even as he stepped into the ring. “We don’t need to do this. We can just talk.”

You sighed and looked back at him. There was a fierceness in your eyes, a determination for something he wasn’t quite sure of -- like there was a plan in motion, only he couldn’t figure out where the steps lead. “I didn’t come here to walk away, Diego. I’m here to win a bet and get my friend back, and also kick his ass if I have to because I’m desperate. You can’t convince me to leave, so wrap your hands and let’s get this going!”

“But-”

“-it’s either this or I just stare at you until you crack,” you said, no longer smiling. “And I doubt you want that typ’a torture, do you?”

He stared at you askance. “Really?”

You didn’t answer him with words that time.

The fight was fast, and almost evenly matched -- you had a slight advantage with your eye on your prize, and he was faltering with every other blow knowing he couldn’t bear to hurt you. But the pace picked up and soon it was like you were one fluid being, predators locked on and desperate to claw the other away from them while simultaneously, drawing them back in. Fists flew and every so often he saw the sparks fly from the fire in your eyes, catching on everything he turned from and leaving him surrounded by the flames you spilled.

For a moment, Diego thought he had it. He had managed to pivot away from your last onslaught and pulled you away from the centre, edging into the corner where he could finally pin you down. His arms outstretched and for a moment he was actually smiling because it felt like the good old days -- sparring way too late into the night when he should have been working with the girl he secretly loved and the stars watching from way above, admiring the gruesomely pretty sight.

But in a flash, everything switched.

He lunged, you slid.

When he fumbled, your legs wrapped around his own, pulling him back and flipping over one another like beetles rolling in the hot sun.

You were everywhere, smothering his smoke with your body, forcing him down before he even realised what was happening.

Diego blinked, and suddenly you were on top of him, legs on either side of his waist and your hands holding his own up above his head. Your expression edged on feral as you grinned down at him, straddling him and fighting everything he pushed back with.

But he couldn’t fight back. Not when you were on him and everywhere and he could smell your shampoo as your hand dangled around him, dripping your scent around him like he was in that poppy field from Wizard of Oz, ready to give into the toxin and be one with the flowers. Your hands held his own and he wished he could slide his fingers into the clasp, holding them to him and kiss each bruised knuckle with tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Your hips, legs, chest pressed against his own, both heaving and waiting for the other to move and interrupt the tension rising with every passing second.

“One,” you began, voice low and teasing. Did you know what you did to him? “Two…”

Diego writhed in your hold, but it was no use. You had him. He was yours and he would be satisfied to be so for the rest of your days, if only you never let him go. His gaze flitted across your face, tracing the way your eyebrows furrowed and relaxed with the numbers, eyes still wide and filled with emotions he didn’t quite know how to read. Sweat beaded on your brow and stained your cheeks and yet still, he thought you were as perfect as you could be, mere inches from his own darting eyes.

“Four...four and a half…” your smile grew and you got a little closer, almost touching his face with your own. “Five…”

He didn’t dare to breathe.

“I win, Hargreeves.”

But despite the hushed declaration, you did not move. Your body stayed over his, hands pushing his own down with gentle force but keeping him locked under you. Your eyes remained on his own, locking them in place as your face grew nearer. Soon enough your nose was just touching his own, nudging softly and turning so it fit better against his lips, which were parted and so close to pressing against your own-

-but you pulled away.

Just as Diego’s eyes had shut, your weight left his and he was left to sit up confused and watch you stomp away. You slipped out of the ring and down to the ground with a soft thump. He watched you unwrap your knuckles and to his surprise, he saw your hands shake with the movement.

“This was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. “This was stupid, I have to-”

“-don’t go,” he mumbled. In one swift movement Diego had jumped back to his feet and pulled after you. You stumbled back a few paces; he raced after, hurrying to your side with an aggression he didn’t know he possessed. “Don’t go.”

“Diego, I-”

“-I pushed you away because I screwed up,” he said, all in one breath and so fast he wasn’t sure if you could understand him. “I messed this up. We’re only supposed to be friends, I know that, but I-I can’t not be in love with you, not when you’re that perfect and so beautiful and you make me smile e-even when I feel like the shittiest sh-sh-shit and-”

“-kiss me.”

“What?”

You stepped forward, angling yourself just under his chin. Your chest heaved. “Kiss me, asshole.”

And slowly his hands moved on their own accord, cupping your cheeks and holding you to him. His eyes darted down once, staring at the pink lips before reaching your own again for a silent affirmation. When you nodded in his hands he acted, pulling you to him quickly and pressing his lips against his own, finally.

It was fast and passionate, both beings pulling at the other, urging the other closer than the skin they already pressed against. His one hand left your jaw to hold your neck, angling your face so he could better caress it, smudging himself across your lips with little care. He felt your own touch against his back, sliding down to his hips and pulling -- without even thinking, he moaned, feeling your lower body roll up against him and leave his mind in overdrive.

You pulled away for air finally, gasping only to be pulled in again for a softer, gentler kiss. He pecked the corners of your mouth before finally taking your lower in between his teeth, biting softly before sucking on the tender swollen skin. He pulled away then, dropping his forehead to your own as you both took another breath.

“If…” you paused to inhale, grinning through the gasp of oxygen, “if I knew you were holding all that back, Diego, I would have kissed your ass a lot sooner.”

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmured. He felt your hands leave his waist, pulling up to the one he still had cradled against your cheek. Your head leaned into the gentle touch. Even as your fingers held his. “I just...is this why you stopped talking to me?”

Diego shook his head softly against your own. Once more his heart faltered and threatened to burst, but he ignored it. “No, I just...I realised that I was-”

“-sorry, I don’t - you have an eyelash.” He froze as your fingers stroked his cheek, pulling away the evidence that had caught your attention. Your eyes darted up to his for a moment, and he watched as they widened and brightened under his perplexed gaze. “Your eyes really are pretty.”

His heart stopped for a beat.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s why I stopped!” he exclaimed. He pulled away from you then, gesticulating wildly around like the air was going to supply you with answers. “That’s why!”

You frowned, cocking your head like a lost puppy. “You...because of your pretty eyes?!”

“What? Wait, no, that’s not why.”

“I’m so confused right now, bud, and I just--”

“--last week,” he rushed, cutting you off before he could lose momentum again. “I took you home. You were wasted, and you kept talking and - and you told me I had pretty eyes.”

Still, you looked bewildered.

“I-I have been obsessed with you since the day I met you,” he said, soft and unsure if any of the words would come out right. Or if they themselves were the right ones to say. “I couldn’t help it. And I didn’t let myself act on it because I knew that it wouldn’t wo-wo-work out, you’d get mad and I’d lose you. I rathered having you as a friend, then losing you cause I was in love with you.”

“Love?” you questioned, barely a breath of a sound lingering between them.

“But that night, you went on and on and I realised then that I was too gone to keep it in. And I realised that you wouldn’t feel the same...and I didn’t want to hurt you, so I left. And…”

“Diego Hargreeves, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

His brow furrowed low, anger mingling with befuddlement on his flushed skin. “Hey, I-”

“-first of all, you really think I would just hate you because you thought of me as more than a friend?! Even if I didn’t like you - which I do, by the way - I wouldn’t do that, I value you too much. But second of all, you’re telling me that you never noticed how much I liked you back?!”

“I-”

“-I have felt like an idiot for the past year, holding in my feelings for you and wishing you could feel the same way. And when you left, I thought - I thought that was it, and that I screwed things up when I was drunk, which I guess I did but-”

“-you didn’t screw anything up, I did!”

“No you didn’t, I did! I’m the drunken initiator!”

“I shouldn’t have just left!”

“Okay, so we both screwed up!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. “But dammit, Diego, I have loved you for ages, and you - we - this is what it came to?!”

“Well, I-”

“-I can’t believe this!” you chortled. “All this time?!”

“I guess so,” he said, voice catching on the ‘so’. “I guess, yeah.”

“Holy crap.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“I love you,” you giggled, breathless and still flushed, messy and beautiful in the shitty gym lighting. “I love you, Diego Hargreeves.”

His heart didn’t break. It didn’t even crack. Diego instead felt the slight twinge as the organ settled in his chest, content and buzzing with the panted cry. The breaklines of before didn’t feel so harsh, mended by your shiny eyes and swollen lips that he wanted to stare at until the end of his days. For once, his heart actually felt whole.

“I love you too,” Diego mumbled, smiling like a little kid. The muscles in his face, rusted over with age and disuse, groaned at the extreme grin but he kept it on anyways, smiling down at you with the strangest feeling of happiness coursing through his body. “A lot.”

And you beamed. “Have I ever told you, your eyes look like, a thousand times prettier when you smile?”

A/N: WHY DO I KEEP WRITING ALCOHOL BASED IDIOTS TO LOVERS FICS?? Have I any other creative thoughts?? Does this make me seem like that’s all I think about?? These are the thoughts that now run through my mind as I rush to post this...and truthfully, I don’t have an answer. I swear I’m a little more creative! I just...have a hankering for these things. Oops.

I wrote this weirdly super super fast and it’s super nonsensical, especially the middle bits? But I weirdly like it. I’m not sure. The plot is a ~little~ wonky but I’m rolling with it!

I’m open to make more stuff on here, I’ve gotten quite bad at it but I like writing these things as practice pieces. So, if you want to read more, requests are open and you can find a list of prompts (if you want them) in my masterlist. I’m putting out an updated list later on in the month, but I also am just open to have any sorts of requests. xx

(also as always - if you enjoyed and you want more, follow, reblog, and consider buying me a kofi! linked in my bio bc tumblr doesn’t like direct links on posts, please check it out if you’re feeling generous because I’m recently unemployed and any bit helps. but sharing this post and showing others the work is appreciated a great deal and i love you if you do!)

#diego hargreeves x reader #mine #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves imagine #tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #hargreeves x reader #gender neutral reader

207 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] ASMR Transcripts (Victor)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for ASMRs which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

> reliance - 依赖

> warm embrace - 温暖怀抱

> seep into the heart - 沁入心扉

> entwined breaths - 交错呼吸

> pillows and stars - 枕星

> evening affection - 暮夜缱绻

reliance - 依赖

You aren’t sleeping yet?

Didn’t you say you were tired beyond compare?

But what?

If you’re tired, sleep early.

[ footsteps ]

I’ve closed the curtains. Go to sleep.

…what are you muttering about this time.

Hm?

Removing your make-up?

You know that you can’t sleep without removing your make-up, yet you aren’t getting up quickly.

You can’t get up?

….do you think you’re a three-year-old child?

[ Victor carries MC to the bathroom ]

I’m not carrying you? What’s the difference? The result is the same, so the method isn’t important.

…stop fidgeting. If you move again, I’ll put you down.

Your hand… hold on tight.

Mm, this is better.

Okay, get off.

Why aren’t you moving?

Why are you looking at me?

…you want me to help you?

…you’re insatiable.

Tell me, how am I supposed to help you?

Eye and lip makeup remover…

[ sound of bottles ]

On the right side? Oh, found it.

After that? Cotton pad… how much do I pour?

Why are you closing your eyes? You need to close your eyes to apply it?

…of course I know that.

You still have the energy to laugh? Looks like you’re not that tired. Do it yourself then.

All right, close your eyes.

Do I just leave it here and not move?

Thirty seconds? Okay…

You want to me say something? Okay. What do you want to hear?

Dummy… you took too long to think. Thirty seconds is already over.

–

I’m going to start wiping.

Is the strength okay?

Didn’t you say you’d get wrinkles if you wipe too hard?

“Who did you hear that from?” Who else could it be but you?

I wasn’t eavesdropping. You were muttering too loudly as usual.

…Spending your whole day on such meaningless things.

You’ll get them one day anyway.

What’s wrong?

Does it still hurt?

Don’t rub it. Come a little closer…

I’ll wipe it a little.

Does it feel better? …Why did you suddenly widen your eyes?

I call you a dummy, and you really start becoming clumsy.

–

Mm? You’re blaming me?

I’m just telling you the truth.

Everyone will grow old and get wrinkles.

But there’s no need to worry. I’ll grow old together with you.

What’s next…? Makeup remover…

Eh, remember not to open your eyes.

If it gets into your eyes, or if you feel pain, let me know immediately.

Is this all?

Why are you so nervous? Relax.

Sit still…

I’m not a dummy. Even if I don’t know how to use it, I know how to read the instructions.

Does it feel comfortable?

I’m going to wash it off now.

Come a little closer…

Okay, it’d be done soon.

You can sleep soon.

It’d be done in 20 seconds. Mm… if 20 seconds is too long, then 10 seconds.

It’s done.

Go back to sleep.

You don’t want to walk back on your own?

[ Victor lifts her up ]

Next time you want me to carry you, just tell me directly.

We’ve reached. Go to sleep.

You really do what you say, sleeping in a second.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Rest well. Goodnight.

warm embrace - 温暖怀抱

What’s wrong?

You’re crying?

What happened?

You’re unwilling to tell me? That’s fine.

Remember to tidy up the tissues once you’re done.

The rubbish that you threw, throw it away yourself. Do you have an issue with that?

What’s wrong? No longer crying? Are you done?

If you want to cry, go on.

I will sit here and wait for you to finish crying. I won’t disturb you.

Sure you’re not longer crying?

No longer crying? Then go wash your face.

How long have you been crying alone? What made you cry until like this?

Give me the towel.

What exactly happened? Tell me.

Why are you crying again? You’re not allowed to cry. Your eyes are so swollen, and you’re still crying. Don’t they hurt?

All right, it’s late. Go to sleep. I’ll be with you.

Do your eyes still hurt?

Okay, I’ll massage them.

What shall we eat for breakfast tomorrow?

A few days ago, didn’t you keep bugging me about making you a lemon tart? Do you still want it?

I knew that you’d perk up once I mention food. Crying and then smiling - are you a three-year-old child?

Turn around. Let me look at your eyes. How did you cry yourself into a civet cat?

If your eyes can’t open, go to sleep. I’m turning off the lights.

Why are you hugging me so tightly?

You felt wronged?

I’m not making fun of you. Don’t you love to cry? It’s not like it’s the first time.

Tsk, you bit me? Looks like you haven’t cried enough.

All right, stop playing around. Keep your small sharp teeth away. Be quiet and listen to me.

When you feel wronged, it’s normal to cry. But you can’t just know how to cry. When it comes to trivial problems, and the initial emotions have passed, you need to let it go. Don’t keep turning it over and over in your head. Only when you’ve calmed down can you find a solution to the problem.

Not making a sound – You don’t like hearing these things?

All right, I won’t talk about these principles.

Looking at how silly you are, of course you’d be knocked down by a small problem.

What’s wrong? Not acknowledging that you’re foolish?

I know what you’re crying about. But you must know that there are a lot of circumstances in the world that are out of our control. The causes and reasons behind every circumstance is complicated.

In a world where it’s impossible to know everything, it’s normal that we experience things we cannot understand and find difficult to accept. Even so, we have to accept it.

There are many ways to accept it. Crying is also one of them. However, only for one night.

The dummy I know will not be defeated by this small problem.

Don’t rub your eyes. When you wake up, your eyes wouldn’t be painful anymore.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Sleep. Everything will be okay.

seep into the heart - 沁入心扉

Why did you only turn the night light on?

What?

[ sound of footsteps ]

Have you been waiting on the carpet until now?

You specially waited for me.

All right, I’ll sit nearer.

It’s only fun if I open the present in the dark?

Can’t you have a change of pattern?

Hm? I can only open half of it first?

Tell me. You gave me a gift, so why do I have guess first?

You’re insatiable.

Fine.

It seems heavy.

Is it a pillow?

I’m wrong?

Hm. Let me feel it a little more.

Why does it feel cooling?

I haven’t guessed it yet.

Give me a hint.

I can open another quarter? You’re really…

So what’s this saying?

Come closer.

Help me press it.

[ sound of the gift being opened ]

This is… a cooling pillow? Or a cushion?

I’m still wrong?

It’s too dark. I can’t see.

When do you plan to disclose the answer?

[ rustling and footsteps ]

I already guessed it and you still said I was wrong.

I think you’re getting bolder.

Why did you think of giving me a cooling cushion?

Because the weather is hot?

Mm. I have been sitting in front of the computer for long durations recently.

I need it.

It’s good to be tired.

I will be sure to take rest.

Unlike some dummy, who, in order to give me a present, has already yawned twice

And you still say you’re not tired?

Changing the topic again.

Mm. It is very comfortable. I like it a lot.

However, why were you being mischievous just now?

I’ll give you half a minute to explain.

[ awkward silence ]

What? You can’t craft a reason?

You’re really…

[ rustling sounds. MC starts massaging him? ]

This tactic doesn’t work.

What are you thinking about?

I moved over so you can experience the cushion with me.

[ footsteps ]

Mm.

How is it? Comfortable?

Come up a little.

Come up a little more.

You’re really…

How about now?

[ Victor’s delectable breathing sounds ]

I also find it very comfortable.

You can touch it.

[ TOUCHING SOUNDS ]

Doesn’t your back feel much cooler?

What did you say?

Water bed?

It’d indeed be more comfortable.

The shopping mall nearby has it.

No need to trouble yourself.

If you like it, I’ll buy one for you.

What’s wrong? You’re getting tired?

Then sleep.

Hm? Why are you holding onto my clothes?

You don’t want to sleep?

Then, do you want to have supper?

I brought some small bites back.

You don’t want to eat?

You don’t want to eat or have supper.

Tell me. What exactly are you thinking?

Dummy.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Were you thinking about this?

Mm.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Dummy.

Close your eyes.

entwined breaths - 交错呼吸

You can fall asleep while reading a book…

[ Victor flips through the book ]

Hm?

You’re always mumbling in your sleep.

[ Victor flips through the book ]

[ MC wakes up. Rustling of sheets ]

You’re awake?

“Basic Massage Techniques.”

Why are you looking at such a book?

You want to give me a massage?

You’re really putting what you learnt into practice.

Tell me. What do I have to do?

Lie here? Okay.

[ Victor moaning ]

The technique isn’t bad.

But… did I not feed you enough at night?

Use more strength.

Continue.

I won’t interrupt your performance.

[ Victor moaning ]

Over here.

[ Victor moaning ]

It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.

I’ve been on planes recently, so it’s a little stiff here.

[ Victor moaning ]

All right, that’s enough.

Your hands aren’t tired?

You’ve clearly got enough sleep.

You’re very energetic.

The sofa is so narrow.

You don’t feel uncomfortable?

Come here.

Sit on my lap.

It’s more comfortable than the sofa.

You can continue.

[ Victor moaning ]

Hm? What’s wrong? You’re feeling shy now?

Fine, I won’t stare at you.

What are your hands touching?

My face needs a massage too?

Such strange logic.

When it comes to these things, you’ve really done your research.

[ Victor moaning ]

That’s a good analogy.

If 10 is the full mark, it’d be a 8.5.

You’re unsatisfied with this evaluation?

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Are you satisfied now?

[ Victor moaning ]

No need…

I don’t need a massage there.

[ Victor moaning ]

You’re still not being honest.

[ Victor moaning ]

You’re getting bolder.

What’s wrong? You want to lean against me?

What’s wrong? You’ve sprained your wrist?

You’re really a dummy.

Be good and sit here.

I’ll bring an ice pack over.

Why are you pulling me?

If it isn’t serious, I’ll just press it for you.

Give me your hand.

Wasn’t someone very happy when pinching my face just now?

Now you know what pain is.

How’s this?

Does it hurt?

All right. I’ll be more gentle.

How does it feel now? Does it still hurt?

If it doesn’t hurt, relax a little more.

How about now?

I’ll have to exert some pressure now.

If it hurts, let me know.

Don’t be too nervous.

I know how far to go and when to stop.

Relax.

I wouldn’t do anything to you.

What did you just say?

What do you mean by “9 marks”?

Only higher than you by 0.5?

I think you’re becoming more and more insatiable

Hm?

You know what pain is now?

You said you wanted to help me relax, and yet caused trouble for me again.

You don’t plan to compensate me with something?

I remember what I promised you. I wouldn’t go back on my word.

These are two different things.

Your memory is very good when it comes to these things.

Put the blanket over yourself properly. Wait for a while.

What’s wrong? Have you thought of how you’re going to compensate me?

Let’s hear it.

You’re too soft.

Lean closer.

[ Rustling sounds ]

Even closer. [laughs]

pillows and stars - 枕星

[ Sounds of waves on the shore. MC splashes her feet in the water ]

Do you want to look at the stars or stand around looking silly?

Aren’t you tired from lifting your head?

Come over and lie down.

Are you going to say that before today, you never would have thought Victor would be accompanying you to lie on the beach and watch the stars?

I said it before.

There’s nothing you can’t think about, and there’s nothing I can’t guess.

You’re here to look at the stars. Not to look at me.

Your eyes should be lifted upwards.

[ Victor laughs ]

Are the stars here what you expected?

Me?

I saw the stars frequently when I was small.

On a roof in Èze.

It felt the same as right now.

Not requiring much thought, nor needing to care about how much time has gone by. It’s just that I became too busy later on. Moreover, I can also see the stars from LFG’s roof. Or rather, I need to face even more important things than looking at the stars. [ Victor sighs ] There was indeed a time. When I forgot to lift my head up to have a look. [ Victor sighs ]

Translated by @cheri-translates on Tumblr ( ́・ᴗ・ ` ) When LFG was first established, there were some problems with the way the management was

run.

Every day, there would be a continuous stream of issues.

None of them could be held off to the next day.

I had no choice but to busy myself till late.

And the employees who were waiting for my official replies would also have to wait till late.

It took a long time before LFG could slowly get on the right path.

Saying all this is meant to tell you that I’ve taken the crooked path before.

So you don’t have to feel dejected every time you make a mistake.

Moreover, many things don’t have a right or wrong in the first place.

It’s just that every person has a different way of thinking.

I remember telling you that if you ever feel too fatigued, you can quieten your heart and think - which area did the problem surface from?

After finding it, think of a solution, and arrange a work tempo that belongs to you. Don’t keep getting led by the tempo outside.

Don’t be so quick to retort.

Think first. Give it some thought before doing it.

Even if the final conclusion is that there isn’t space for improvement, at least it’s a conclusion that has gone through contemplation.

When you face the troublesome problem again, you’ll have a more calm attitude. True, this isn’t an ingenious method. It’s just experience.

But you wouldn’t lose out from giving it a try.

At least LFG has been operating quite well till now.

It shows that this method has its merits.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

And after that...

You wanted to watch the sunset, then the sea, then the cherry blossoms, then the snow mountain.

You want to do whatever you think of. There isn’t a single moment of tranquilly. For example, right now.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

But I agree with your view.

Finding time to relax and take a break is a very important thing.

You’re right.

There’s a need to look upwards sometimes.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

I also think the starry sky is beautiful.

Looking at the stars like this makes me feel as though the surrounding clamour doesn’t have anything to do with us.

No matter how important work is, or how tedious life is, they can’t be compared to living this moment seriously.

Mm. Even your silly smile right now - I’ll remember it too.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

Are you cold?

Come closer.

[ Rustling sounds as MC shifts closer ]

I asked you to come closer.

I’ll block the wind for you.

I didn’t let you lean your whole body on me. [ Victor grunts ]

Why are you burying your face in my arms?

Are you still looking at the stars?

If you aren’t, I can bring you back.

If there’s something you want to do, say it directly.

I can’t understand the hemming and hawing used specially by dummies. But it’s not that I can’t make a guess.

[ Victor laughs, kisses MC, breathes heavily, and kisses her again ]

What’s so difficult about guessing the thoughts of a dummy?

Turn your face over.

Do you really want to bury your face in the sand and become a turtle?

Close your eyes.

Be obedient.

Close your eyes.

[ Victor takes deep breaths ]

When we left home, didn’t you want me to give you a night you’ll never forget for the rest of your life?

Whatever I promise you, I will always fulfil it. Tonight - I’ll remember it.

[ Victor takes deep breaths ]

You aren’t allowed to forget either.

evening affection - 暮夜缱绻

[ washing sounds + hair dryer blowing ]

Your face is so red.

Are you too warm after the bath?

If you lean over, just lean over.

Where are you putting your hand?

Why is it so fragrant?

Just how many types of body lotions did you apply?

Guess the smell?

Is this a little game before bed?

You were dillydallying in the bathroom for such a long time just to fiddle with this?

Since you don’t feel like sleeping yet,

I’ll satisfy you.

You said it yourself.

If I guess correctly, I’ll naturally claim a prize.

[ ruffling sounds ]

Tell me.

Where do you want me to start?

Okay.

Turn your head over a little.

Ticklish?

I’m not even touching you.

What’s so ticklish?

[ ruffling sounds + sniffing ]

The smell on your neck -

It’s lemon.

I haven’t moved.

Why are you hiding?

Aren’t you tired like this?

If you aren’t comfortable, come over a little.

Lean on me.

[ sniffing ]

There’s a scent of tangerine on your wrist.

Looks like I’ve guessed correctly.

Where’s the next location?

[ sniffing ]

What posture are you going for?

Sit still.

Don’t move.

If the location is wrong, I’m not taking responsibility.

[ sniffing ]

The scent on your waist -

It’s rose.

I can tell that you’re taking the trouble to increase the difficulty level.

But the scent of the rose’s fragrance is very obvious.

It can be identified in a short while.

[ sniffing ]

What?

You feel unaccomplished?

Even lower.

[ sniffing ]

It’s lavender.

[ sniffing ]

The ankles -

It’s grapefruit.

The game is over.

However,

Don’t you think this game was far too easy for me?

You haven’t thought about it yet?

Since the beginning of last week, you’ve been placing different types of body lotion in the bathroom.

Of course I noticed them at a glance.

Dummy.

What are you doing now?

Applying body lotion for me?

I can cooperate with you.

Just treat it as

Me gaining slight interest in this little game before bed.

What’s wrong?

This position isn’t convenient?

Which position do you want me to change to?

Anything is fine,

As long as you find it comfortable.

[ MC applies lotion ]

You’ve got it all over your hands.

Is that much really necessary?

It’s too fragrant.

As expected, it’s a scent only a dummy would like.

Continue.

Are you sure this is the way to apply body lotion?

Doesn’t your hand feel sore like this?

All right.

It’s time for this little game to end.

My favorite scent?

Aren’t you clearest about that?

Hm? Your face is red.

What are you thinking about?

I’m referring to when I hug you.

[kiss] Close your eyes.

Right now,

I should claim my prize.

112 notes · View notes

all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Between the Stars [Pt. 9]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death.

A/N: Happy Monday! Have some emotions. Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky for looking this chapter over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“Hey, Buck. Toss a few of them logs on, will ya?”

Bucky grabbed five or so large logs from the stack Sam had nodded to and delicately leaned them up against the smaller than usual bonfire. It wasn’t anything close to what they would build back in the day, but a lot had changed since then. Most of the kids who came those late summer nights were grown with families and didn’t want to spend their night out on the lake with people they rarely spoke to. It ended up being a few people from their old crowd and their small group of family, which was smaller than they all remembered. Pietro was living off the west coast, somewhere out in California now, and no one has heard from Tony and Bruce for two or three years.

Then there was Steve…

A decade or two can change things. It was different, but not all of it was bad. It was the first time in weeks Bucky and Y/n had done anything fun together, and the first time since he came home, they all spent time together like this. Y/n hung by his side all night. She only strayed once, and it was when Wanda finally showed up towards the end of the night. It didn’t take long before she found her way back to him, grinning and out of breath from whatever they had been laughing about. He liked seeing her like that. It’s been a long, long time, and Bucky’s missed it. At some point through the silly laughs and drunken conversation, Bucky felt her hand brush against his, and the first time he thought it was an accident. A misunderstanding. She didn’t want to hold his hand in front of everyone. Bucky wasn’t sure she ever wanted to hold his hand -- until recently anyway.

By the fourth graze, Bucky had turned to look at her, but she kept her eyes forward on the flames in front of them as her pinky hooked around his. He might have blacked out. He didn’t know how long he stared at her after that, but Sam must have made fun of him for something because when he came to everyone was looking at him laughing, and Sam had that dumb smug look on his face.

It was a good night. A really good night. The second that thought passed through his head Buck should have known he jinxed himself. He’s never been lucky when it comes to love or Y/n.

“I was hoping to find you here.”

Bucky went stiff at the sound of Dot’s voice. It’s been years since he’s seen her, but it’s not one she’s going to let him forget. Of all the people he thought they might run into tonight, Bucky never once thought they’d see Dot. The change in Y/n was immediate and undeniable. She was upset about Dot showing up, or was it that she was talking to Bucky? He didn’t know for sure, but Y/n wasn’t the only one that wished she had stayed home tonight. Dot was a mistake, one he made several times before he realized just how big of one she was. It takes him a few tries before he gets it right it would seem. Y/n’s pinky slowly loosened from his, and she dropped her hand, leaving his hand cold and angry without her touch.

“Dot,” Bucky gritted out. He didn’t mean for it to come out so blunt, but he wasn’t looking to run into old flames tonight, and he certainly wasn’t interested in spending time with Dot when he could be holding Y/n’s hand all night. The brunette leaned in slightly and ran a hand up his arm, pretending to adjust something on the collar of the navy button-up shirt he was wearing. Y/n had picked it out before they left, and when he asked if it was too formal for a bonfire, she told him to roll up the sleeves. You’d look good like that, she had said.

Bucky wasn’t about to argue with that.

“Not much has changed, I see. I think I saw some marshmallows over there,” Dot said with a suggestive smirk.

The appalling laugh that left Y/n’s mouth sent a chill down his spine, and his heart sank when she started to walk away.

“Hey,” Bucky interrupted whatever Dot was rambling and grabbed Y/n’s hand before she could get very far. "Where are you going?"

“Just letting you two catch up.”

Bucky hated the ice coating her words. He hated it.

“Y/n, you don’t--”

“It’s fine, Bucky. I’m going to go over and talk to Wanda. You’re a big boy, and I don’t need a babysitter.”

He watched as she walked over to where Wanda was sitting and whispered something in her ear that had Wanda’s head whipping around to where he was standing. Wanda’s eyes darted to Dot and back to Bucky before she rolled them and took Y/n’s hand, leading her out of his sight. As if she needed to hide Y/n from him or his actions. Dot was blabbering on and on about something, he had no idea what she was saying, and he didn’t care to pretend tonight.

Bucky waited. He waited to see Y/n walking through the crowd back towards him, but she didn’t, and he had no idea where she got to. Without explaining or excusing himself, Bucky made his way towards Wanda, Dot following close behind him.

“Wanda. Did you see where Y/n got to?”

Wanda briefly glanced behind her and opened her mouth to say something, but Dot was back by his side, ruining yet another moment without knowing it.

“Bucky, wait. I thought-- You never called me when you came back home like you said you would. You had that fling with Sharon Carter but didn’t call me.”

Yeah, because Sharon understood, Bucky thought bitterly. Sharon knew what they were, what he could give to her, and what he couldn’t. She knew more wasn’t an option. Dot still pretended there was hope for the future. Maybe, it wasn’t acting and she really thought one day Bucky could love her. He didn’t know and didn’t care. Bucky tried to look through the crowd of people, but Y/n was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath and swung around to face Dot. It wasn’t her fault, and Bucky knew that. Honesty hasn’t been his strong suit. Not when it came to Y/n.

That was something that had to change, and it started here.

“I told you before; I don’t have anything for you. The things you want I can’t give you because everything I have belongs to her.”

There wasn’t any surprise or shock on Dot’s face. She simply nodded as if she knew who she was and how long Bucky’s heart had belonged to her. Bucky didn’t care if she did know. He didn’t have time to play these childish games. Y/n slipped through his fingers once before, his stomach was twisted up in knots from the familiar doomed path he’s put himself on tonight, and he wasn’t about to let Y/n think there was anyone more important than her.

He won’t go down that road again.

"I have to find Y/n."

Bucky didn’t wait for an answer. He left Dot standing with Wanda giving her an awkward smile, offering the smaller woman a drink by holding out a plastic cup, but Dot politely declined. He pushed through the small group of people and stopped on the hill. No doubt, she left him there and was going to make him catch a ride back with Sam.

“Hey.”

Bucky spun back around at the sound of Y/n’s voice, Wanda and Natasha watching them intently. Where had she come from? How had he missed her?

"Hey,” Bucky repeated dumbly.

Y/n smiled at him, and Bucky let out a sigh of relief that made her laugh. He opened his mouth to explain, to give some kind of excuse for what just happened, but the look in her eye said he didn’t have to. Bucky briefly wondered if she had heard him, but quickly shook the feeling off. No, she wouldn’t be here waiting on him if she had. Y/n held out her hand and nodded towards the row of cars at the top of the small hill.

“Ready to go home?”

God, Bucky really liked it when she said things like that. Like it really was his home, and she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah. Okay, Trouble. Let’s go home.”

------

“Come hang out with me for a little while. I’m not ready for bed yet,” Y/n had said right when they walked in the front door, and Bucky was worried that she was still pissed for a minute, but she grinned and held out her hand again. He took it following her through the house and into the kitchen, where she stopped to pull two bottles from the fridge, holding the beer out for Bucky to take.

If she figured it out how he felt, finally figured him out she didn’t show it. The way she treated him in the last month hadn’t changed. She still slept in his room and held his hand on their walks. She always smiled when he walked into a room and stole tiny bits of his soul with each one. Bucky was worried that his confession about Steve and the scarf would have changed the way she looked at him. Y/n never brought it up as he expected. The morning after, Bucky had waited for her to tell him to pack his things or at least ask him why.

Ask why her scarf bothered him so much that day, but the questions never came.

Bucky didn’t know if she figured it out on her own, but he prayed if she did, she would let it go. He’s had decades of practice hiding his heart from her, and if she needed him to, he could keep it all hidden. Whatever he had to do to keep her and keep things the way they were.

“So what exactly do you do with marshmallows that has that poor girl following you around?”

“I, uh, I’d rather not say.”

Bucky’s cheek turned pink, and he shook his head, embarrassed mostly and partly annoyed with himself for dragging all those girls along for so many years. They knew the truth. Sharon said she could see it in his eyes. “I know,” she said one night with her head on his chest after one of their nights together. “I know I’m not the one you’re in love with. I also know you can’t have her. I can see it. It’s written all over you. I just want you to know I’m sorry.”

Maybe that was true, perhaps it was written all over him. Steve never noticed, but Sam always said he could see it in him every time Y/n was around.

He’s better at hiding his feelings now. He hoped, at least.

“You know that night?”

Bucky stared at the glass bottle in his hand, the tiny sparkles in the countertop and the wood beams on the ceiling. Anywhere so he didn’t have to look at her. Of course, he knew the night. As if he could forget it.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you know, Buck. The night.”

Bucky licked his lips and turned to look at her, biting out a harsh, “What about it?”

He was angry, and he knew he had no right to be, but he didn’t want to talk about that night -- Least of all with her.

“It’s silly. Just forget it, okay?”

Y/n looked annoyed and maybe a little hurt as she pushed off the counter and dumped her half-full bottle of hard cider down the drain, letting the glass rest in the sink. She was in a rush to get away from him and hide, but Bucky wasn't about to let that happen. He tossed the empty beer in his hand into the can resting against the wall as she rounded the corner to stairs. The sleek metal can warning him not to do what he was about to do.

He had to. He wasn’t about to let her run from him twice in one night.

“Hold up a minute,” Bucky called, following her into the living room. “You brought the damn night up, and now you’re gonna run upstairs and hide?”

Y/n looked pissed when she stomped back over to him, and Bucky started to regret pushing this. She could be pretty scary when she was mad, and he’s already walked a fine line tonight. There have only been a handful of times in his life when he’s gone toe to toe with her, and there isn’t much that has scared him as much as those moments.

“When you came over to talk to me? By the lake? You grabbed my waist and pulled me close... Do you remember that?”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I remember.”

Some nights it was all he could remember.

“I thought you were going to kiss me. I thought maybe you liked me or something.” She huffed, a self-deprecating laugh falling from her lips, and she shook her head. She was angry with herself for bringing all of this up when it’s been dead for years. “I’m not great at reading people it would seem because I could have sworn you liked me. That maybe you wanted more…”

Bucky gulped.

“And, well, I never saw Steve coming. I guess I imagined it all. I don’t know. You always seemed to be right there, you know? Holding my hand and kissing my forehead. I thought maybe you felt something for me. I was young and stupid, I guess. I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s just blame it on nostalgia and forget it, okay?”

She was halfway up the stairs, and Bucky cursed under his breath. Shit. He was about to do something so incredibly dumb. Liquid courage was making them all a little braver tonight, and Bucky wasn’t the exception.

He took a deep breath.

“I was.”

Y/n stopped and set her eyes on him. He stared right back, but she could see the fear in his eyes, slowly she descended the few steps back down to meet him, standing on the bottom stair, leaving her several inches taller than him now. Bucky wanted to touch her or at least move closer but decided better of it and stopped himself. He wasn’t sure how she was going to react to what he was going to say next.

“I was going to kiss you. That was the whole reason I came that night. I wanted you. You didn’t imagine any of it. The touches, the kisses, or the way I felt about you.”

“Why didn't you?”

Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t planned on laying his cards out and showing all the parts he liked to keep hidden, especially from her. Not once has he thought about coming clean about what happened back then, but not telling her was the reason he was in this mess. Not just tonight. It was the reason he never got the chance to love her. He could never admit the truth to Steve, but he could tell Y/n. Maybe that would absolve him for part of the lie he’s been living all these years.

“Short answer? I was a kid, and I was afraid of what I felt. I was scared, Y/n. Scared that if I told you how I felt, I would lose you. That still scares me. I’ve faced a lot of awful shit in my life and didn’t flinch but losing you? That’s the only thing that terrifies me.”

Y/n stood there, silent and unwavering in her stare. Bucky thought he was going to die if she didn’t say something soon. The seconds drug by, and with each one, the grip on Bucky’s heart tightened a little more. Finally, she nodded, and the wire squeezing his lungs loosened enough that he could breathe again.

“Did Steve know? Did he know how you felt?”

Or so he thought anyway.

Bucky didn’t want to lie to her. He honestly didn’t know if Steve knew he was in love with her, Bucky had his assumptions, and he knew Steve had some idea how he felt. Still, Bucky wouldn’t tarnish Steve’s memory or their marriage. He wouldn’t do that to her.

“I don't know. Maybe. We never talked about it. I didn’t-- we never talked about it.”

She nodded. There was something in her eyes he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t something good he knew that.

“I’m gonna go up to bed. It's late.”

Bucky nodded and turned to go back to the kitchen. He was pretty sure Steve had some old whiskey hidden above the stove if Y/n hadn’t polished it off before he came home.

“Buck? You coming?”

He turned back and nodded; the surprise was evident on his face. He didn’t think she would want him to share a bed with him after that confession. It seemed she did, so he followed her without questioning it further. He changed into sweats and waited for her to come to bed in those little striped cotton shorts she liked so much. No one spoke as they climbed into bed, and Bucky flicked the light on the bedside table off, letting only the moonlight light the room.

Bucky’s room stayed silent as they laid there, a small space separating them tonight. His admission had exhausted them both, and Bucky wasn’t sure what it would mean tomorrow, confessions always look different in the morning light. Y/n pressed her forehead against his shoulder and whispered, “If you could go back to that night and do it over, would you?”

Bucky knew what she was asking, and there’s only ever been one answer.

“Yes.”

Bucky, as selfish as it made him, would make sure his was the only love she knew.

Previous // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x steve #alternate universe #Miltary AU #tw: loss of spouse #tw: military death #tw: character death

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slipper007 · 3 years

Text

WIP: Sing Me To Sleep

Word Count: 2,485 (of 15000+ so far)

Tags: Destiel, Fix-It Fic, Grief and Mourning, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typical Alcoholism, Ignores S15E20 Carry On, more to be added when I post the full piece

Notes: a little addition to celebrate hitting 15k words. Read the begining here. Once it's done, I'll post the whole fic here and on my AO3

As soon as they got back to the Bunker, Dean started making a home for Miracle. He gathered some spare blankets before having an epiphany: she could just sleep with him. She would love the bed, and he would love having her there with him.

It was just his luck the Men of Letters, stuffy old guys that they’d been, had some food dishes perfect for Miracle. He had seen them months ago when he had been looking for an artifact and left them in storage without another thought. He headed over to get them now only to freeze in front of the doorway.

The door to Room 7B was heavy and even standing in front of it took a toll. Mouth dry, Dean managed to put his hand on the knob but couldn’t find it in himself to open the door. He knew what waited on the other side for him, and he didn’t want to see it. The empty space, the sheer nothingness—not even goo or a coat this time—was too much.

He could get the dishes later. Better yet, he could buy new ones. Miracle would love that, wouldn’t she? She deserved nice new dishes to eat from. And while he was out, he could get her food and toys as well.

Dean went back to his room to start making space for Miracle’s things only to see himself in his mirror and freeze. There was a handprint on his shoulder, marked in blood. Slowly, Dean slotted his hand over the mark, aligning the fingers with his own.

Cas.

Dean turned away and bit his lip, hard. Tasting blood, he took his utility jacket off and folded it neatly before putting it in a drawer out of sight. He was too sober for this.

He wandered out into the library, looking for Miracle and pointedly ignoring everything else when he stopped. SW. DW. MW. His family, immortalized in the wood of the table. His fingers traced his mother’s initials absently in thought. Family didn’t end in blood, and the Bunker had been a home to far more than just the Winchesters. They deserved to have their legacy remembered, too.

Dean pulled out his pocketknife, the same one Castiel had used, back in the dungeon. Slowly, carefully, he dug it into the wood and painstakingly added two names: Jack and Castiel. They always should have been there. They should have known that they belonged. It was Dean’s fault for not including them enough, not helping them to feel seen. Maybe if he had, they wouldn’t have left. With a heavy heart, Dean remembered standing in this same library, shouting that Jack wasn’t family. He remembered nearly killing him and blaming him for things beyond his control. Just as bad was the memory of Castiel at this same table, sitting and eating a burrito and being content, happy even, just before Dean had kicked him out. That wasn’t even the worst, was it? No, he had done so much worse to Castiel, even just in the library.

What about beating him to a bloody pulp and leaving him broken on the floor? Mark or no Mark, he had done that. Even if it had taken him everything not to give in to the Mark and kill him. The Collette to his Cain, only asking him to stop. What about only a few months ago?

Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong.

Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

Dean felt sick just thinking about it. He could vividly remember the hurt on Cas’ face and the shock that Dean had said that. It was one of his biggest fears, being a useless screw-up, only around until he was no longer useful. Dean had known that and still said it. What kind of a person did that make him? And more than that, what did that make Cas’ true happiness? How do you love someone like that, someone irredeemable? It couldn’t be love.

Castiel was wrong. He hadn’t done everything out of love. If he had, he never would have pushed Cas away.

To distract himself, Dean tore his eyes from the newly added names and caught himself thinking about adding more. Who else was family, who else had they neglected to include?

Sam came out from the hallway looking ready to have a heart to heart and Dean couldn’t take it.

“You want a beer?” Without waiting for an answer, Dean stood. “I’m gonna grab a beer.” Then he headed towards the kitchen.

“It's pretty quiet,” Sam said once Dean returned, taking the offered beer. Dean hummed in agreement.

There was a silence, so heavy that Dean almost didn’t break it. In a rough voice, he managed to say, “To everyone that we lost along the way.” He clinked his beer against Sam’s and took a swig, ending it abruptly. He needed something stronger. Vodka, maybe, or bourbon, though he wasn’t sure if they had either of those in the Bunker anymore. He had already gone through a fair amount after Cas was taken, and then even more when it was the whole world. Still, maybe he had missed a bottle somewhere. He was about to stand to search when Sam started to speak.

“You know…with Chuck not writing our story anymore, we get to write our own.” His voice lilted upwards, optimistic in a way that Dean hadn’t heard in months. “You know, just you and me going wherever the story takes us…. Just us.”

“Finally free,” Dean summed up. He thought about the last few months, his own obsession with freedom. Sam’s statement was right—it was just them. They hadn’t reached out to anyone else yet, too overwhelmed with the implications of Chuck being defeated. That didn’t change the fact that Castiel wasn’t there to share it with them. Or Jack for that matter. He had been shoehorned into the position of God, had never gotten to be a kid. Dean’s heart ached in sympathy. If anything, Jack was more trapped than ever.

Sam and Dean had gotten their freedom, but at one hell of a cost. Still, Sam looked so hopeful…. Dean could be content, or at least pretend to be, for Sam’s sake.

He clapped his little brother on the shoulder, forced a smile, and they went for a drive.

For a little while, he dared to hope that by flooring it on the open road, with music blasting from the radio, Dean might be able to escape his grief. They could go anywhere, do anything. He and Sam had earned the right to a fresh start after at least three apocalypses, but Dean didn’t know if that was what he wanted. How could he start over if his best friend was dead and their kid was gone? He might still have Sam, but what about the rest of his family? Didn’t they all deserve the chance to begin again?

There was no destination to their journey and even Dean didn’t know where they were going. All he knew was that they were going away. To distract himself from the road, he paid more attention to the music, only to balk at it. Running on Empty. He couldn’t help grimacing at that last word and turned the music off rather than changing the station.

Sam, for his part, was watching Dean, taking in and gauging his reaction. Well, what was the damn point of the drive if neither of them was enjoying it?

When they got back, Sam seemed just as disturbed as Dean felt. The world had fundamentally changed, and it was like it hadn’t. The world went on, every moment passed as though there wasn’t a throbbing ache in Dean’s chest. They had lost their son and best friend. They were alone all over again, just like those first few lonely years when they had been looking for John.

Dean hated it.

The Winchesters settled in their respective spaces—Dean in the kitchen and Sam in the library. The stash of alcohol in the kitchen was gone. Had he really drunk it all already? Dean sighed and took a beer from the fridge instead while he made dinner. He managed to find some solace in it, as he always did. It was nice to cook and bake, to wear a silly apron and ask people to “try this!” After years of living on the road and killing monsters, Dean was able to flip the script. He was able to use his hands, hands that had become accustomed to being covered in blood and gore and dirt, to do good in another way. He didn’t need to be violent anymore; he could care for his family, or what was left of it.

Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.

Dean swallowed thickly as emotion rose within him, but managed to keep pushing it down, holding it back. He would deal with it later, once he was alone in his room and sure that Sam wouldn’t walk in. He finished cooking up the burgers and took a few steps over to where he had already laid out the plates and hamburger buns.

Four plates waited to be filled. Only Sam and Dean remained.

“Going out!” he shouted over his shoulder a few heartbeats later, running up the stairway and out the door before Sam could stop him.

He didn’t make it to the liquor store. His eyes were burning and his vision swimming only minutes after he left, and rapidly he found himself pulling off onto the side of the road. Everything was too much.

Castiel was gone. He was dead, after nearly a dozen years of it not sticking. Dean had thought that maybe grieving would get easier. After all, he had lost everyone: his mother, his father, his brother, Bobby, every friend they had ever had, and so many more. It hurt like hell, every single time, but eventually he could cope. He had lost Castiel before, five deaths and countless almosts before this one. Why did it hurt worse? Every single time, losing Castiel left him emptier and emptier.

Cas was… Cas was his best friend. A pillar in his life. Someone who he could count on. Someone who should have outlived him. But he was more than that, wasn’t he? Dean hadn’t gotten the chance to reply, had hardly gotten to process before Castiel was gone. Cas loved him, and Dean hadn’t—

Dean neither knew nor cared how long he sat there. His grief only grew deeper with each minute, especially with the sheer despair of realizing that Castiel’s true happiness was what had killed him. His happiness was coming out, speaking his truth, and now he was dead. Dean ran out of tears, but ugly, breathless sobs still racked his body when he found it in himself to pull back onto the road.

The sales clerk in the liquor store gave him a look as he checked out. Dean didn’t know if it was for the volume he was buying or how fucked he undoubtedly looked. Didn’t care, either. He held off for the drive back and started drinking in the garage. Then the library. When Sam found him on his way to his room, Dean was solidly drunk and sobbing again, too far gone to care about appearances anymore. He just wanted the pain of it all to be gone.

He fought to keep the bottle of bourbon but Sam managed to take it, along with the rest. Without something in his hands, they were restless. Dean ran them over his face and through his hair before they ended up clutching at Sam’s shirt as the weight of his grief pulled him down.

“They’re… they’re jus'… gone,” he mumbled into Sam’s shoulder. “Jack… ‘nd C— Cas…”

He felt his brother’s arms close tighter around him and somehow felt worse, like he didn’t deserve it.

“I…I k-killed ‘im, Sam. He tol’… me he l-loved me, ‘nd then he was…”

Sam helped him to his room and stayed with him until he fell asleep, listening and shushing him in equal regard. With his eyes bleary and full of unshed tears, Dean thought the silhouette of Sam in the extra chair looked almost like Castiel, and he took comfort in that for a few minutes.

When Dean woke up, his heart was racing and the distorted nightmare of black goo was rapidly fading. He turned to the empty chair in his room and then to the door before seeing Miracle. She had situated herself in between his legs and was whining loudly. If he had been a little less hungover, he probably would have found it terrifying, given the number of nightmares he’d had featuring whines and growls. The sound grated against his ears but she seemed to perk up seeing him awake. Decidedly less nightmare-ish. He carefully extracted himself from his bed and ran the cold tap water over his hands and wrists, letting it ground him before washing the sweat from his face and popping a pain-reliever. He looked rough, with bags under bloodshot eyes and stubble across his jaw and cheeks. He probably smelled as well, wearing yesterday’s clothes soiled by booze and sweat. It didn’t matter much; Dean had no intention of going anywhere and lacked the energy to get cleaned up.

Miracle whined loudly again and Dean allowed himself to get back into bed to lay with her until she was a little happier. He absentmindedly scratched Miracle’s head while waiting for the throbbing ache in his head and chest to dissipate. He settled for one of the two and, after a few hours, made his way out of his room.

Sam was on the phone in the library, but upon seeing his brother put an end to his conversation. Dean didn’t know what he expected: to be chastised, perhaps, or to be forced through a heart-to-heart. Worse, to have Sam look at him with pity without saying a damn thing. Instead, his brother wrapped him in a brief hug.

“How are you holding up?”

“’M fine.”

“Dean…”

“’M fine, Sam.” Dean kept his tone stiff as he pulled out a seat, unwilling to become the sobbing mess again in front of his brother. Maybe Sam understood that, as he changed the subject after a beat.

“Hey, I talked to Jody. She and the girls are okay, and she says Donna is, too.”

“That’s awesome,” Dean said, nodding.

“Yeah. She wanted to know if we wanted to catch dinner next week sometime.”

Dean froze for a second before shaking his head adamantly. “Maybe some other time.”

“What? Why?”

“Claire. Sam, I would have to tell her that Cas….”

Sam’s face filled with understanding and his own grief. “I’ll tell her we can’t make it.”

///

AN: I swear this is gonna end happily.

Tagging some people who might be interested in the update: (ask to be added or removed!)

@becky-srs @bizzlepotter @bonkybornes @casgirl @chaoticbisexualdean @evermorecastiel @ineffable-impala @lassoted @poohkeepsee @professorerudite @theangelwiththewormstache @thiscastielhasflown

#destiel fic #wip update #my writing #wip writing #destiel #spn fic #slipper007writes

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captainseaweedbrains · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Peeta

I rewrote a fluff prompt I got ages ago and thought I’d post it again. Enjoy!

Post-Mockingjay, during the time where they grew back together.

Can also be found on Ao3

His birthday was coming up and Katniss wanted to do something special for Peeta, something homemade.

"He does so much for me," she told Haymitch while they nibbled on the rye bread Peeta had left them for lunch. "I want to return the favor. He deserves it." And Peeta did deserve it. After these rough few months of trying to repair themselves and figure out what they were, she wanted something normal, something happy. Or as happy as they could possibly reach.

"I'm just not very good at gift giving," she confessed, picking at the bread.

Haymitch ripped another piece off the loaf and shoved it into his mouth. "I don't know what it is with you two and owing each other, but he's not expecting a parade, sweetheart." Katniss squirmed in her seat at the thought of being paraded in front of a crowd again. "Just do something any normal girlfriend would do."

"We're not dating," she quickly insisted. "We're just...us."

"Fine. Whatever. Make the boy dinner and, I don't know, get him paper or something to draw on. He should be happy with that."

The idea did sound good, and Peeta always made dinner. A birthday dinner would give him a night off, let him relax. Yes, a surprise dinner would definitely be a good gift for him. She'd make his favorite meal, maybe steal a bottle of Haymitch's finest to lighten the mood. It was perfect.

The only problem was she didn't know his favorite meal. At least something she could make. Katniss tried to think back to every meal they'd ever had together, but her own mind had been so transfixed on her plate she'd never noticed what Peeta ate.

She would just have to find out before his birthday.

Peeta was pouring vegetable soup into her bowl for dinner when she decided to ask. "You make soup a lot," Katniss observed, waiting for him to sit before lightly blowing on her meal.

"Can't go wrong with it," he smiled.

As expected, the soup tasted wonderful, with hints of spices Peeta kept to himself, saying it was a family secret. She tapped the spoon on the side of her bowl and sighed, wondering how to go about asking him without making it too obvious what she planned to do.

"Is something the matter?" His eyebrows were scrunched together in concern, his hand gripping hard on his spoon. Katniss patted his hand and told him she was fine.

"I'm just thinking about the soup," is all she said, taking another timid sip.

"Oh."

The dining room grew quiet, the only sounds were the scrapes of their spoons against bowls and Buttercup begging for scraps at Peeta's feet. It was typically how dinner went for them, but Katniss didn't want to chicken out about this. She wanted to make sure what she was making Peeta would be something he'd like.

"You know, when I..." A lump formed in her throat at the thought of her family. She cleared her throat and started again. "When I was little, my father used to make this dandelion salad and my mother had this special dressing she'd pour on top. It was really simple, nothing like...like the Capitol food, but I'd always get excited whenever I'd see him walking back with a bag full of dandelions. It was my favorite meal."

It was too much, too obvious, and she shoved a spoonful of soup in her mouth to avoid blurting out anything that would trigger any emotional episode. Peeta wasn't stupid, and he always figured out whatever she was planning because he was perceptive and good at reading people, and Katniss was lucky if she could spit out a sentence every once in awhile.

He didn't seem to notice, empathetically smiling at her, like he always did whenever something from their past was mentioned. He understood how much it hurt to talk about the dead and the hopeless, and she was so thankful for that. Another reminder why Peeta deserved a special birthday dinner.

"I could call your mom for the dressing recipe. We could make it together."

"Yes," Katniss said slowly, "we could make it together. So now you know what mine was. Um, so what was your favorite meal?"

His eyes gleamed over in thought as he leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. It wasn't often they talked about trivial things like favorite childhood foods, but it wasn't on the list of triggers Dr. Aurelius had given and that was all Katniss was concerned with as she watched his face carefully. Just because it wasn't on the list didn't mean Peeta would react lightly to topics of his family. His episodes were sparse, but it was always best to be safe.

"It sounds silly," Peeta chuckled, pulling her out of her worry, "but I loved when my dad would make fresh bread for dinner." It wasn't the answer she expected from the baker's son and her face must have shown her surprise. "I've told you we always got stuck with the stale bread—the bread no one wanted," he explained, "but on special occasions, Dad would make a fresh loaf of bread for us. Sometimes add in raisins, if we were really lucky. It was really rare, but I remember jumping up and down whenever I'd smell bread baking in our apartment's kitchen." He sheepishly smiled and looked down at his bowl of soup. "It's stupid, I know, Katniss, but it is what it is."

"I don't think it's stupid," she comforted, taking his hand in hers. "I...I think it's sweet, Peeta. I'm glad those memories aren’t—aren't gone." His hand squeezed hers back in response and they resumed eating in silence.

Baking bread was a lot harder than Peeta made it out to be.

It was ridiculous, really. She'd made bread plenty of times with the tesserae grains her family received. But everything seemed simple back then—her mother and sister, their tiny, dilapidated house in the Seam. Even the bread was simple, but nothing made sense any more. Not even the stupid, complicated bread recipe.

She followed every step closely. Double-checking just to be safe.

She put in every ingredient with care, like she’s seen Peeta do a thousand times and more.

But when it came time to pound out the dough, the whole project went awry. Images of Snow and Coin and Plutarch consumed her thoughts as she pounded the soft, malleable dough. Their faces smirking, toying with her, wanting. Her hands grew rougher with the dough, feeling used and spit out. They used her. Used them. Discarding them like unwanted waste when their purpose was done. And Prim. Prim. Prim. Prim. Sweet, little Prim.

Her vision went black. Her chest heavy, lungs filling with smoke from the bombs. The bombs that killed little Prim.

Prim Prim Prim Prim

A sharp pain in her hand snapped her back to the kitchen. She was home, safe. Not the Capitol or the arena. Home. The pale dough was smeared red with her blood, her knuckles bruised and battered.

My name is Katniss Everdeen, she began her list, taking deep breaths in, eyes closed. I am at my house. I am safe. I am making bread. Today is Peeta’s birthday. I am making Peeta's favorite bread. I want to make him happy. Today is a Peeta’s birthday.

Her heartbeat slows. She cleans her hands, wrapping them in gauze, before pulling out the ingredients to start once more.

She double-checked the steps closely, pouring the ingredients into the bowl with care, just like Peeta.

Bread should not be this complicated.

The bread was almost finished baking when the grandfather clock tolled the hour, telling her Peeta would be home any minute. Katniss sat on the floor, face pressed against the oven window, still covered in flour, and watched the loaf continue to bake. Her face was tear stained and puffy, her knuckles still ached after all these hours, but part of her felt proud for sticking it out and finishing the bread for Peeta, instead of running to her bed or closet. It was definitely an improvement from months ago.

The front door opened, startling her from her bread watch, and Katniss scrambled to her feet and patted some of the flour off her pants.

"Happy birthday!" she cheered when Peeta stepped into the kitchen.

His face broke out into a smile and laughed, looking around the flour covered kitchen. "I see you've been busy." He ran a finger across the countertop and rubbed the flour between his finger and thumb. “Flour? Do I smell bread?”

"I made dinner. Your favorite meal."

She couldn't help but laugh along when he asked in surprise, "You did?"

"For your birthday,” she explained, taking his coat and tossing it aside. She pulled out a chair for him and told him to sit as she went and got him a drink. “You always do the cooking, but not on your birthday. We’re making birthdays special now. And I wanted to make your favorite meal because I thought it’d—you know, make you happy.”

His hand found hers, his thumb lightly tracing her bandage. Her breath stilled, unsure if he’d ask about it and ruin the happiness she felt stirring in her chest, seeing him happy, like her Peeta. But his smile grew, his blue blue eyes warming, causing her smile to grow until they both looked like deranged fools. The aroma of baked bread filled the small kitchen, making their stomachs growl.

“It’s perfect, Katniss. Really.” She shrugged like it meant nothing, but her stomach fluttered more when his hand didn’t let go of hers, and she told him the bread should be ready any minute.

The bread wasn’t burnt, like a certain loaf all those years ago, and it wasn’t perfect, like the loaves he made, but Peeta proclaimed it was the best bread he’d ever had.

“I just wanted to make you happy,” Katniss shyly told him again, blushing at his compliment. “After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you for making this a memorable birthday, Katniss.” The earnestness in his voice proved he meant every word and it was then that she felt that familiar stirring, deep inside her. It felt warm and full and without even thinking about if this would set them back, she kissed him. Soft on the lips.

“Happy birthday, Peeta,” she whispered and laughed when he quickly pulled her closer for another.

#Everlark #Everlark fanfic #The Hunger Games fanfic #OTP: Survival #My writing #Enjoy!#Let me know what you think!#:)

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atths--twice · 4 years

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Soulmates

Soulmate: a person to whom you feel an immediate connection. A connection so strong and powerful, you are drawn to them in a way you will never experience again. They are your perfect other, the missing half of you, and no love will ever compare. No matter the distance, soulmates will find their way back where they belong. ________________________________________

The long believed alien invasion of 2012 never occurred. Since that fated night, Mulder has searched for answers to questions, but has come up empty handed. Scully has been standing by watching brokenheartedly, as his obsession has begun to tear them apart.

A heart can only stretch so far before it shatters and the pieces left behind must be put back together. Sometimes a shattered heart (or two) needs extra care, love, time, and help.

Sometimes it needs guidance from someone who understands grief and pain. Someone who will not give up or back down. Someone who will see a broken heart and not declare it unfixable, but grab the tape, glue, or whatever it takes, to fix it and make it whole again.

________________________________________________________

Okay.... I have posted about this before, but as I’m a bit, just a small bit mind you, more savvy with Tumblr, I am going to post it again. Before I only posted the link to AO3 and not chapter by chapter, as I had no idea how to do that at all. I have figured it out and all I can say is... get ready...

I have recently had the pleasure of meeting two incredibly wonderful and supportive fellow Philes, @prichan7 and @scullybuck, and their encouragement and love for this story has filled me with such a sense of pride and happiness, I am so thankful to have met them. Ladies... your kindness means so much to me, you truly don’t know.

I am going to post the first three chapters today and then one, or sometimes a couple, the next day.. and so on.

This is my baby and the one I am the most proud of... I hope you like it.

Chapter One

The Origin of Maggie Scully

Maggie had been a romantic all her life. When she was younger, around 10, she began to read from the “grown up” section of the library, the young adults area. She was always an advanced reader and devoured books. She discovered Anne, the orphan girl adopted by a brother and sister. She learned new, big descriptive words reading about Anne.

Maggie fell in love with Gilbert, a sweet, romantic, caring boy who was “fathoms deep” in love with Anne upon first meeting. She yearned, despaired, and was elated when Anne and Gilbert were finally joined together in marriage. She read of Anne and Gilbert’s children. Of Rilla, their youngest who was in love with a family friend. He went off to war and her heart was broken. She cried and mourned along with all her beloved characters. When she finished the books, she began again. She became obsessed with the love the characters had for one another.

The words she read were poetry to her young soul. She needed more. The librarian observed how often Maggie was borrowing the same books. On one of her trips to the library, when she was 12, the librarian, a “kindred spirit,” showed Maggie to the literature section. She suggested a few new books she may find interesting and Maggie’s eyes lit up. She borrowed Emm a and Sense and Sensibility.

Oh … being lost in the stories of yearning love, hardships, misunderstandings, broken engagements, and true love realized, made her heart soar. She wished that she could live in her books, to know these characters, to attend balls and dance through the night.

She felt a thrill when she discovered the word ‘soulmate.’ A soulmate. It was a word she fell in love with immediately. She rolled it around and around in her mind. To think that there was someone out there destined for her, her other half, made her stomach do flip flops. She read when true soulmates had found each other, there was an unspoken understanding between them. They would feel unified to have finally found the one they had, wittingly or not, been searching for. They would be together in unity and no other happiness or joy could ever compare. Oh, how those words and thoughts had thrilled her, down to her very soul.

Reality came calling, however, no matter how a person may romanticize the world around her. Her father felt reading, especially books far beyond her age, was a waste of time. He found it “foolish for a girl to be doing, especially the books she was reading. Stories about love and romance filing her head full of frivolous unattainable things. A handsome man racing up on a horse to save her, or dying for one's true love.

Try as she might, there was no reasoning with her father. Her mother was a meek woman and she complied with her husband. Maggie’s trips to the library became obsolete. She was told to focus her attention on other things.

Her parents were devout Catholics and her time for confirmation was approaching. She was to attend the classes and study what her faith would prepare her for in her future- a life devoted to her faith, husband, and a family.

Although she obeyed, she felt that a part of her was gone without the chance to read her books and become lost in their stories. But after her confirmation, she began going to parties and meeting people. New girlfriends to gossip with, share lipsticks (of which none of them were allowed to even possess), even try out smoking, and laugh about which boys they would like to kiss.

She loved the thrill she felt being in a group of boys and girls, seeing if she might feel a spark with of them. She had not given up that she had a soulmate out there somewhere looking for her. There were boys she felt an attraction to, but it was not the same as that deep desire for a soulmate.

Then when Maggie was 20, her mother passed away. She was left with an empty hole in her life. Her father took her mother’s death extremely hard. He began to drink heavily. He was moody and depressed. But at times he was kind and emotional. During those times, he spoke of his love for his wife. How beautiful she had been, how she could light the room with her smile, how much he missed her, how lost he was without her, how he loved her from the moment he saw her, how he wished he told her more.

Maggie sat in shock. Of course she knew her parents loved each other, she was not stupid. But this ... especially from her father, left her speechless. He was tough, quiet, closed off. She had no idea he was capable of feeling that way. How naive she was, how childish in her thinking.

She was an adult, but she was still much like a child, believing love was something a person longs for, pines after, or has to suffer a huge loss to find. She saw and learned of true love, of actual soulmates that day. Not the silly little girl version she had imagined with music sounding and “happily ever after.” This was a love that ran deep and true and real.

She was emboldened by this revelation. She made a firm decision. She would not let her father drink the rest of his life away. Her mother’s memory did not deserve that disrespect. His love for her needed to be stronger than the ease at which he grabbed the bottle for comfort.

It was not an easy task, but she got him to quit. She learned things about herself during this time. Patience, understanding, and extreme empathy. Her grief was raw, but her father’s was devastating. Spending time with each other, expressing their grief, had brought them closer together. She always felt a disconnect from him, as though he did not care for her as her mother had. As they learned from each other, her heart warmed with the discovery that his love was simply quiet. He was proud of her, loved her, and wanted the very best for her. He did not say it with words too often, but his eyes and his smile told her every day.

When Maggie met Bill, she knew right away he was a good man. He was somewhat like her father-quiet, serious, stoic. Under his outward presentation, though, he was sweet, funny, romantic. He was rational and cool headed. He would be a good husband, provider, father.

She loved him, immensely, but it was not until she had Bill Jr. that she realized how much she needed and relied on him.

She was sick throughout her pregnancy, never truly gaining much weight. She could not get the baby to feed very well once they were home. She was not sleeping, had not showered, the house was a mess, and she could not stop crying. She felt like a failure as a wife and a mother.

One day, a knock sounded at the front door. Bill Jr. had just spit up all over her last clean shirt and also managed to soil his last clean diaper. Maggie felt like lying down and giving up. She did not care about the person at the door, she just wanted to sleep, cry, or scream. Maybe even all three.

The knock sounded again and a muffled voice called out, “Mrs. Scully? My name is Evelyn McCreary. Your husband works with my husband. He asked if I could look in on you. He wanted to be sure that you were okay and didn’t want you to be alone.”

Maggie began to cry. From exhaustion, embarrassment, but mostly from the caring her husband showed by asking for help for her. She would never have asked on her own. She was a navy wife now and needed to keep that stiff upper lip. As she cried, she caught a whiff of both herself and the baby. It was not a good combination.

Her pride worn down, she walked to the door. She did not look at her reflection in the mirror by the door. She knew she looked like death warmed over. If this woman was truly here to help, she was going to see how big her job would be.

Opening the door, she found not a young woman, but an older one. White hair set in a fetching style, clothes and makeup perfect. She even had a pair of gloves in one hand and her purse in the other. This woman? She was going to help?

Maggie almost closed the door in her face. Close the door before she ruined the clothes of this poor well meaning woman. She had probably thought that Maggie was simply bored and was looking for someone to gossip with and drink some tea, maybe something stronger. Well, Maggie thought, that sure ain’t the case. She stared at this immaculately dressed stranger with a look of defiance.

The eyes looking back at her were soft and understanding. She took in Maggie’s spit up covered shirt and could smell the baby’s soiled diaper. She smiled kindly at Maggie and put her gloves in her purse with a snap as it closed.

“Well,” she said with a square set to her shoulders. “It looks like we have our work cut out for us. How about you invite me in and we can get started?”

Maggie was completely floored. She expected this woman to be aghast and walk away. When she did neither, she could not do anything but allow her in the house. Evelyn set her purse down on the crowded dining room table and turned to Maggie.

“First things first,” she said with determination in her voice. “You need to get cleaned up and I will take care of this adorable baby.”

“No,” Maggie said with more force than she actually felt. “First things first. You tell me who you are and why exactly you are here.” Evelyn smiled at her, just as kindly as before, and clasped her hands together.

“My husband and your husband have become friends. They have recently worked together and have taken a liking to one another. Your husband mentioned that you had recently had a child. My husband, Philip, had asked how you were doing. Bill was honest with him and said it had been hard. My Philip told me, and I knew I had to come right over. You see, Mrs. Scully,” she said with a brief pause as she took a breath. “I know how hard it can be. How you can feel ... alone and no one understands. I have had six children and I was unprepared for each one of them.” Maggie balked at her. Six children? God. That sounded exhausting.

“My husband and I married young,” she continued. “My mother had passed when I was a girl and I never learned about ... well many aspects of marriage.” She laughed and her cheeks flushed. “When I discovered I was with child, I was terrified. I had no idea what I would do.” She smiled at Maggie kindly and reached out to touch the baby’s foot.

“My husband was wonderful to me the entire time. He was tickled that we would be having a baby. He boasted to everyone how happy he was to be a father. How he loved that I would be giving him that honor. But then the babies came ...” she became quiet for a second, lost in her memories. Maggie shifted uncomfortably, aware once again how terrible she smelled.

Evelyn gave a little shake of her head and then smiled at Maggie. “Mrs. Scully,” she said kindly. “I would love to tell you my story when you have had a chance to clean up a little. I can imagine you don’t feel so wonderful at this moment.”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears at the kindness in her voice. “I can’t get cleaned up,” Maggie said with a sob. “There is so much laundry to be done, and I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Evelyn reached for the baby, and this time Maggie let her take him. She brought her hands to her face as her tears began to fall faster. Evelyn tucked Bill Jr. into her side and drew Maggie to her with an arm around her shoulder.

“My dear,” Evelyn said softly. “Please lead me to the bedroom and we will get you sorted out.”

Maggie tearfully led Evelyn toward the bedroom. She set the baby down in the bassinet that sat in the room. Evelyn walked into the bathroom and started the shower. When it was a comfortable temperature, she turned to Maggie and told her to take her time and get cleaned up. Maggie sobbed and began to unbutton her shirt. Evelyn walked out and closed the door behind her.

Maggie left all her clothes in a disgusting heap on the floor and stepped into the warm steamy shower. She let the water wash over her and cleanse her body and soul. She was so bone tired and this shower was the best experience she had in days. She stayed under the spray and felt her muscles relax. She cried and cried. Let all her anxiety out in that shower. Felt it wash away down the drain.

She washed her hair and body twice, exhilarated by the feeling of being clean. Erasing the stench of milky baby vomit and soiled diapers. She stayed in the warm cocoon until the water began to cool. Finally she had to turn the water off and return to real life.

A towel had been placed out for her and her disgusting clothes were gone. She had not even noticed Evelyn return to the bathroom. She grabbed the towel and wrapped herself in the fluffiness. God, she felt like a new person. She dried her hair with an extra towel until it was just slightly damp.

Maggie walked into her bedroom and found that Evelyn had put some clothes on the bed for her. A button down shirt of Bill’s was laid out beside a pair of pajama pants. She slipped them on, no underwear available to be worn. She did not care and she doubted Evelyn would either.

Once she was dressed, she walked out to find Evelyn in the dining room. She had cleaned up the clutter on the table and changed the baby. He was laying in the bassinet that she had moved from the bedroom.

She looked up and smiled as Maggie came in the room. She walked toward her and put her arm around her shoulder, leading her to the table. Maggie sat and Evelyn disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with a two cups of tea and set them down.

“Do you take cream and sugar?” Evelyn asked kindly. Maggie shook her head. “I was able to find one last diaper for the baby, but he will be needing more. I placed a call to a friend of mine and she will be dropping off some items for you as soon as she can,” Evelyn said as she sat and drank her tea. “I have also started washing some clothes in your washing machine. Such a wonderful invention. Things took longer in my day. Once those clothes are done, I will hang them for you and start more clothes.”

Maggie was silently crying, looking down at her teacup. She was overwhelmed by everything, but especially by the kindness this woman was showing her. She did not know her, but she was here and she was helping. She had already done so much in the short amount of time she had been here.

She lifted her eyes to Evelyn. She could not talk around the lump in her throat. She shook her head, trying to fight back her tears. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.

“Before you say anything,” Evelyn said softly, setting down her cup and taking Maggie’s hand. “Let me tell you my story. Drink your tea and just listen.”

Maggie took another deep shuddering breath and nodded. She did not know what she was going to say anyway. That she was fine? She clearly was not. She did not need any help? It was obvious that she did. She just needed to say something. Instead she took a sip of tea and waited for Evelyn to speak.

Evelyn placed her hands on the table and folded them together. She told Maggie of her hardships with her babies. How she had been wholly unprepared for caring for them. She did not know anything about children and she felt like a failure every day. She cried more in that time than any other time in her life. When the babies cried, when they spit up, when dinner was burnt, when her husband’s shirts were not ironed, or worse, when they too were burnt.

But through it all, her husband had been there for her. He was always encouraging, always positive. He ate the burnt dinner, smiling through every bite. He hid his scorched shirts beneath jackets, kissing her goodbye and thanking her for seeing that he looked respectable and loved. He was her champion, her cheering squad and she loved him immensely for it.

They moved to a new base when she was pregnant with their fourth child. Two of the children were in school during the day at that time, so she was home with only the youngest child. She was thankful for that because the fourth pregnancy had been her worst. She was sick almost throughout. She could barely eat, she was not sleeping and the housework began to suffer.

There were not scorched shirts anymore, there were simply none ready at all. Dinners were late as they had to wait for her husband to cook them and he worked late shifts. She would cry as she sat holding the youngest one and her husband served the older children soup and toast, grilled cheese, eggs. Whatever was on hand and easy to make. He would make them laugh with silly voices and songs he made up. Then they would help him clean up and head to bed.

He would come to her and wipe her tears. Tell her he loved her, she was the only person he would ever love in this lifetime and the next. He would take the little one and bathe her, put her to bed, and come find Evelyn still on the sofa, crying. He would take her to their room, help her get her night clothes on, and brush her hair. He would sing to her as he did, telling her how beautiful she was. How her hair was like spun gold and it shined brighter than the sun. He would hold her as she cried when they went to bed.

It had been two weeks and this had become their routine, until she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find a dark skinned woman with the biggest smile she had ever seen. She told Evelyn that her husband had run into her, literally, and helped her pick up the items she spilled.

He struck up a conversation with her and found she was looking for work, but no one wanted to hire her. He said that was ridiculous and he hired her on the spot. Said he needed someone to help his wife because he loved her so much and seeing her breaking down the way she was, was breaking his heart. He cried for his wife, cried for her suffering, and asked, begged, for her help.

Her name was Tanzie and she was a godsend. She helped with anything and everything. She washed, cleaned, cooked, ironed, and cared for the children. But most important, she became the friend that Evelyn needed. She cared for her. Cooking bland foods that she could hold down, offered up advice her mama had for pregnancy, remedies that were a wonder for Evelyn.

Tanzie helped her get back to herself and her family. She was the best friend Evelyn ever had. They shared secrets, dreams, and their lives.

“Mrs. Scully, without the love of my husband, and the care of others, I would have crumbled. I would have given up. I am a lot older than Tanzie was when she showed up that day, but I would like to be here to help you as she did for me.” Evelyn said kindly, looking into Maggie’s eyes.

Maggie sat in rapt attention, tears running down her face, through the whole story. Listening to Evelyn’s story of love filled Maggie with hope, with happiness and such immense love. She read of soulmates, saw it through her father’s eyes, knew she found it in Bill, but Evelyn’s story ... it was pure love and devotion.

And now Evelyn sat there, in a dirty house, with clutter and laundry piling up, offering her help because Philip heard about her need from Bill. A loving heart reached out to another loving heart. As a result, without hesitation, Evelyn came to help Maggie. To offer what she could, however she could.

Through her tears, Maggie smiled and nodded. “Please, call me Maggie,” she said as she grasped Evelyn’s hand, reaching out for the lifeline that had been sent to her.

I had posted all of this story here, chapter by chapter, but now… I’m not sure how to find it. So, I am posting the link to it on AO3. Happy reading… with perhaps some tears along the way. 💕

#Soulmates #The X Files #XF Fanfic #From the breakup to their reunion #What happened in the interim?#Sadness #Angst #Separated #Love and Caring #Taking care of each other

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coldcolourchords · 3 years

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Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

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