#DO YOU SEE HIS HEAD IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT CORNER OF THE 3RD PICTURE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

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Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 2 - Auction

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies

“You no longer own me.”

The guppies in the tank that spans nearly half the space of the wall flush around, their brightly colored and flared tails gently wading in the water. Juyeon gently taps on the glass, the yellow guppy swimming towards him instead of away. The shelves are stacked with books on marine life and nature, posters of the Northern Lights dawn the walls if they weren’t covered in the latest Apple commercial poster.

He hears the hurried footsteps before he hears his assistant, who is huffing by the time she’s at the door of his office. “Anything urgent, Miss Young? Forgive me if I imagined I told you that I would be unavailable until after lunch.”

“Sir, I think you should see the news. I know why your parents aren’t in office today.”

“What?” Juyeon finally pulls away from the tank, worried eyes scanning his assistant. She’s well-dressed, has short hair and ruby cheeks. She looks like she belongs in high school. “Anything serious happen? An accident?”

“Um, no, it’s just--”

Ring ring

Lee Juyeon turns to the phone set on his table, then side-eyes Young Jin Seol, feet turning toward the device.

“No, sir! Wait, before you--”

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mr Lee. We’re calling from The Board to request your availability tonight for a press conference regarding today’s updates.”

Juyeon scoffs gently, standing straight up and resting a hand on his hip. He turns to look at Jin Seol, eyes filled with caution, as if they meant to say I told you not to pick it up.

“I’m sorry but... what updates?”

“The change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS and the marriage.”

There’s a brooding uneasiness in his gut as he processes the heavy word. In the world of corporate under The Board, the word ‘marriage’ is nothing but a contract.

“Remind me who this concerns?”

“You, sir. The marriage between you and Kim Jang Won. The Board would like your presence during a press conference to address the marriage as well as the following change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

It’s like Medusa has just stared him straight in the eye, for Juyeon fails to respond in any way possible.

“Uh... sir? Hello? Mr Lee Juyeon?”

Jin Seol rushes over, able to hear the voice on the other end calling out to him. She grabs the phone and presses it to her ear, eyes plastered to Juyeon, whose lips seemed to be whitening. “Hi, this is Young Jin Seol, Mr Lee’s assistant. He’s not feeling very well now, so I’ll get him to give you a call later regarding the press conference, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, um, of course. But we’d like to have details settled by 1pm later, Miss Young. If it’s not too troubling to relay the message to Mr Lee.”

“Rest assured, he’ll...” Jin Seol watches Juyeon trudge to the couches sitting before the tank, sinking into the soft cushion and pressing his fingers into his closed lids. “I’ll make sure he gets back to you by then.”

Juyeon can feel the skin on his chest stretch when he sucks in a deep breath. The nonsensical thoughts start to crowd his head in the most logical way possible, if that was even possible. Luckily, the only thing he could hear was the bubbling of the oxygen pump in the tank.

He hears Jin Seol return the phone back into the phone set before he finally opens his eyes, vision a little blurred from the pressure of his fingers.

“I could schedule them in straight away but I have a feeling you’d want to talk to your parents first, Mr Lee.”

Juyeon brings his palms down to his nose and mouth, lips perpendicular to his index finger and his thumbs under his chin as he focuses on the table before him. The white tulips in the vase have already started to brown.

“Schedule them for lunch at 11 and I’d like to be left alone from 12.30 to 1. I’ll call The Board myself afterwards,” Juyeon notes the coldness in his voice, an element he doesn’t even recognise much. “My parents and I have alot to talk about.”

The Director of Chang’s Funeral Services personally flips open the file, turning it and sliding it across the table to the siblings sitting opposite them. Mr Chang would’ve shat himself if Kim Jang Won had come alone - she doesn’t have the title ‘Hera’s Princess’ for nothing. It’s a good thing ‘The Prince of Artemis’ had come with her. But maybe that’s just it, isn’t it?

What if he pulled out a gun and shot me right now?

Younghoon’s eyes conscientiously process the printed words on the document, his sister a little too over the edge to be paying attention to anything.

“We-- Um, carried out an investigation and realised that the bodies were... well... mismatched.”

Younghoon listens, but his gaze is still on the carbon print. The file was labelled KIM JO-PIL but the papers in the folder belonged to someone else. Someone else’s body. A common city address.

“Have you excavated the body?”

“In progress, Mr Kim. They should be calling any time now for after identification.”

“I don’t suppose you have the documents for Kim Jo-Pil? The ones that were supposed to be in this folder?”

“The thing is... I remember seeing the documents. My colleagues have too. The people in charge of your father’s burial saw it too. But... if it’s not in this office then frankly, I’ve got no clue where it would be.”

For the first time in 3 hours, Jang Won actually looks somewhat understanding, sympathetic, empathetic. Younghoon shuts the file and slides it over to Jang Won when she sits up in her seat.

“If you don’t mind, we’ll take the file and contact the deceased’s family. When’s that body identification phone call coming in?” Then the 3-hour streak is lost, and Younghoon sighs exasperatedly, out of her peripheral vision. “Taking mighty long for a simply body identification, no?”

Flustered, Mr Chang fumbles for the phone set sitting in the corner of his desk, hurriedly dialing a number.

“Where do you think he ran to for 2 years?” Jang Won squints at the deceased’s information. “Why 2 years?”

Younghoon runs a hand through his hair, probably worth about half a million Korean Won. “You ask me as if I know any more than you do.”

Mr Chang is finally talking to someone. Jang Won’s focus fixates on something familiar at the bottom of the page.

“That’s because maybe you do,” Lifting the file, she points to the bottommost section.

LAST OCCUPATION:

PHOTOGRAPHER FOR ARTEMIS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP

“It’s your company and subsidiary. I’m surprised you don’t recognise the name.”

“I might own Artemis but I don’t personally know all 278 employees. If he’s a photographer and I don’t recognise him, that means he’s in another department. Women, or children or product. I’m only listed as a model under the ‘Males’ department.”

There’s a silence in the air that allowed Younghoon to hear the gears churning in Jang Won’s head. The appearance of Kim Jo-Pil, 2 years after his supposed death, has just dragged both his children and everybody else related into a mess of a puzzle. But Younghoon has no doubt his sister can find all the pieces, much less draw the connections.

There’s a reason why she could build HERA & ARTEMIS from the ground up.

Mr Chang finally hangs up, sighing heavily as he looks at the powerful siblings over the rim of his glasses. “They’ve confirmed. The body in the coffin you saw your father in belongs to the man in the document.”

Younghoon chortles in disbelief. “Right then. So our father did die, but someone managed to swap the bodies before it was lowered, and then proceeded to keep him alive for the next 2 years.”

Jang Won flips and finds a portrait of the dead man. “Question is... who?”

Younghoon stands up first, thanking Mr Chang and tapping Jang Won as he turns for the exit of the office. The Director doesn’t even get a chance to bid his goodbye when Jang Won leaves, behind Younghoon.

Escorted by four bodyguards, the siblings walk side by side with her heels clicking against the floor. Upon reaching the first floor, the lift doors ding open into an array of reporters hustling outside the entrance.

“Get them out of my face before I ruin their lives!”

The guards rush before them, hurriedly trying to disperse the crowd. Jang Won pulls out her sunglasses, covering her eyes.

“Time-wasting assholes.”

The shouted questions are loud and intrusive. The short distance of a few tens of metres feel like a mile from all the shoving and yelling. The flashes refuse to cease, but they’ve been in the spotlight for so long, it just gets annoying.

BREAKING: KIM YOUNGHOON AND KIM JANG WON SPOTTED AT CHANG’S FUNERAL SERVICES - KIM JO-PIL CONFIRMED TO HAVE BEEN SWAPPED OUT BEFORE BURIAL TWO YEARS AGO

Juyeon turns into the private room the restaurant manager has led him to, leaving him at the door whilst his parents gawk at the headlines blasting on the screen mounted to the wall. There’s a picture of Kim Jang Won and her brother getting into a car right below the headlines.

“Quite a mess, isn’t it?”

Both of them whip around to see the young man standing by the door, pushing himself off the frame and strutting into the private room. The whole fit he was wearing could buy a short vacation. His father reaches for the remote and shuts off the television.

“I expect nothing less from Kim Jo-Pil, given the history of HERA & ARTEMIS. It was just a matter of time before his daughter took over and turned it into a multi-billion name,” His mother sings, fingers around the base of a glass of wine and carefully swirling the blood-red liquid.

Juyeon sits, and a waiter comes by to fill his glass with wine. The gentle whir of the air-conditioning in the room is the only source of noise, other than the waiter taking his leave. Juyeon picks up the glass, raising a brow as he brings it to his lips. “I expect nothing less from my own parents when they are about to put me up for a certain type of contract,” He pauses, the glass in mid-air. “Say... a marriage.”

His lips meet the curve of the glass and he takes a sip.

“We wanted to tell you before we agreed, but--”

“But the money’s more worth?” He winces from the alcohol in the wine, frowning and offering a sarcastic purse of his lips. “I can imagine. All that stuff you have at home... you know, grand piano worth five million, a kitchen big enough for a herd of horses-- oh, not to mention the actual stable of horses... Yeah, I guess... I guess I could empathise with how you needed more than those. Planning a re-deco? I might know some great architects.”

“Juyeon...”

“No, no,” Placing down the glass, he waves his hand. “Let me put things into perspective for you. After all, gotta make the homework I did on my way here worth it right? See if it’s correct.”

Juyeon clears his throat and cracks his knuckles, knowing that his parents are offering him the most miserable looks they’ve ever given him in his life.

“The Board announces Kim Jo-Pil’s return. HERA & ARTEMIS goes back under his belt, leaving Kim Jang Won, current owner and might I say, the very reason why HERA & ARTEMIS is as good as it is today, jobless and absolutely helpless in a ditch. The Board then passes a rule, one which I have never heard before in my life, maybe because it’s never happened before, but... in order for Kim Jang Won to re-obtain some kind of ownership or at least some part of HERA & ARTEMIS, she must marry a name attached to The Board. And the two of you, seeing how rich and successful Kim Jang Won has made HERA & ARTEMIS, snatched the offer up first and put me on the stage... for auction.”

“Auction...!”

“Correct me, will you? Because that’s exactly what I think you did. What, becoming the next director of Apple-Korea isn’t enough for you? Owning the Korean branch of one of the largest tech companies in the world isn’t enough-- you must have a fashion-retail company?!”

The entire room falls into heavy silence. The waiters knock before entering with some seafood appetizer. Juyeon sucks his lips between his teeth, nibbling anxiously on his bottom one.

“Juyeon...” His father waits for the waiter to leave. “We... we just wanted the best for you. You know how powerful the Kim family is. Any remote connection to them will do us good. It’ll do you good.”

He scoffs and rubs his forehead with his index and middle finger. “I really have no clue what’s going on in those heads of yours sometimes.”

“I don’t know why you’re so against this, Juyeon. It’ll be helpful to you in your future!”

“As opposed to what? Wanting to be a marine biologist? Wanting to study the waters and nature? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Thinking that his father would hush his mother, Juyeon is surprised when he doesn’t.

“Wow, really? Nothing?”

Silence.

His mother picks up a fork.

“Very nice to know that you’re treating me like a piece of property instead of your son.”

Juyeon pulls the napkin off his lap and stands.

“Oh, and uh... Don’t wait for a wedding invitation. You’re not getting one.”

“Juyeon!” His parents collectively exclaim in disdain, eyes widening as he struts towards the exit and out of the room.

“What? You auctioned me off! You no longer own me, right?!”

Juyeon huffs angrily, hands running through his hair and ruining his own efforts of waxing his hair. He enters the lift, multiple staff members looking at him stride into the metallic box, confused. His fingers search for his phone in the pocket of his blazer, the device buzzing non-stop from the headlines and messages and emails from broadcasting companies and companies he couldn’t give two shits about.

But when the lift doors open and he sees the Kim Jang Won standing right outside with the same suit and sunglasses he had previously seen her on TV with, his eyes widen with a mix of surprise and distaste.

“Well, if it isn’t Kim Jang Won... or might I say, my fiancé?”

“My dad couldn’t have done this on his own. I have a theory, and multiple plans to fix this mess of a shitshow, so I’m here to figure out if you wanna be in on it.”

Juyeon scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets, stepping out of the lift and staring down straight at her. He attempts to search for her eyes through the chocolate-brown shade of her sunglasses, but fails.

A tiny smirk crawls unto her lips as she pulls it off, her bright, sparkling, manipulative eyes ignite some flame in Juyeon.

Because that’s just how smart and cunning Kim Jang Won is.

“I know you don’t give a shit, Lee Juyeon. About The Board, about the marriage, about Apple.”

He chuckles, teeth wiping his canine teeth as he pulls his shoulders back. “So you Googled me. Should I be impressed?”

Then his phone buzzes and he pulls it out in a bid to display some kind of disinterest.

Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: The tulips are here! [photo]

He blinks, eyes travelling from the screen to the most powerful figure of his generation under The Board.

“If I could find this out from Google, I think you should revisit your privacy logistics,” Kim Jang Won squints one eye and raises her brow. “I’m not here to confuse you or piss you off, Lee Juyeon. I’m here with an offer, to save both our asses. I want HERA & ARTEMIS back but I cannot do it if I have no link to it.”

“What’s in it for me then? It’s not like you can buy me a degree in marine biology.”

“I can’t but you could have the freedom to do so. I’ll pay for you to start your own company. Whoever said you needed a degree to do what you wanted to do? In this world... all you need is money and a little bit of brain... but!” She points to him her sunglasses. “You don’t have to worry about either because I’ve got that covered. All I need you to do is get down on one knee -- willingly -- for the whole world to see... and I’ll give you your freedom.”

Juyeon sucks in a deep breath so hard that he wheezes and Kim Jang Won could not be any more satisfied with herself.

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Love your takes on 19 days especially tianshan!! They are very insightful and a fun read! Idk if you already wrote about this, but I was wondering what your take would be if he tian came to save Mo instead of She li. I wonder how their dynamic would be in the present. Would they be more like zhanyi?

Hello, dear anon!

Waah, thank you for such praises! I’m glad you have enjoyed reading my mullings!

As a heads-up, this turned much longer than I anticipated, so better find a comfortable seat.

“what your take would be if he tian came to save Mo instead of She li”

I haven’t actually thought about this before, so thank you for this interesting avenue that had never even crossed my mind. The more I thought about this, the more question popped up. I feel like this would be a pretty significant change, especially for MGS’s character. To try and keep this scenario somewhat in control, I scrolled through the comic with your question in mind and let my nose sniff out where the “new” story would take me. So, this might not be exactly a “realistic” take on it but more like where the story and characters would go in my head if things had been different.

The question of timeline

First, I feel like we need to figure out the correct timeline for all this, so it’s easier to gauge HT and MGS’s characters more accurately. According to my calculations, SL saved MGS sometime during their first year of middle school (ch. 282, 319):

In the current canon storyline, they are in their last year (3rd year) of middle school, so two years off that would put the piercing incident somewhere on their first year. (Look at my mad math skills.) I’m assuming the first school year had already begun since SL had transferred and already gained some reputation at school. Other than rumors, he hadn't crossed MGS’s path.

So, let’s figure out 1st year MGS and HT. With MGS, we have seen glimpses of what kind of character he was (ch. 319, 283):

He had many of the characteristics that are familiar to us in the current timeline, too. He was caring and compassionate. His first instinct was to help, and he dint want to see people hurt. I believe he still has those qualities these days, but he’s learned to hide and suppress those instincts the hard way. I feel like compared to the current MGS, the 1st-year MGS was more pure, innocent, and trusting in many ways. He seemed to believe in a world where doing good to others surely was the way to go.

1st-year HT, on the other hand, is pretty much a mystery to us. Apart from some flashbacks from his childhood prior to middle school, we haven't seen more of his past. Even his first introduction in the comic was a bit awkward the way he just suddenly popped up and it wasn’t really clear what his relationship with JY and ZZX was exactly.

What was the mindset of 1st-year HT? Had he already made up his mind that he wouldn't become like his brother and father? Was he already living alone or still with his family? Was Mr. He already abroad or still in China?

I think HT’s living situation is probably what would give us the most hints about whatever mindset he might have. But the only thing we really have to go on is when MGS came to visit him for the first time (ch. 144):

Again, this doesn't give us much. It’s impossible to say for sure if HT was already living by himself as a 1st-year student, but somehow I doubt that. Despite everything, 12-13 is still mighty young to be living by himself. And I have a feeling based on the way HC and Mr. He seem to put importance on family sticking together, they probably didn't let HT go live alone without a long fight and debate. So, I think it’s very likely HT was still living at home as a 1st-year. Most probably at his brother’s place that seems like their primary home before Mr. He went abroad?

Based on that, I think HT might have not made up his mind on becoming a savior/hero of sorts yet. At least not in so many words. Home was probably an unpleasant and stressful place for him, and he would rather spend time elsewhere. When at home, he probably spent a lot of time in his room or roaming the nature surrounding them. Home was somewhere where he had to keep his guard up and be constantly prepared for whatever. He was exposed to and (in)directly involved in things that he disapproved of and most probably scared him. At school, he excelled in all the subjects. In some ways, studying was an out for him even though getting good grades was also expected of him. He was always surrounded by a lot of people at school and was very popular, but no one really knew him outside of school. He didn’t open up about himself.

So, that’s how I see the characters set up for the new scenario.

Mo Guan Shan in distress

Now, finally to the beginning of it all. To help us all get in the right mood, I hope you will excuse my very serious 3AM edits (ch. 319):

A crazy homeless man was attacking an innocent, pure MGS. His young life was flashing before his eyes. The man on top of him is too heavy. The grip around his throat too strong. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and black spots are dancing at the edge of his vision.

Just as MGS is about to pass out, something flashes at the corner of his eyes but it’s hard to tell in the dimness of the alleyway. There is a loud, heavy thud, and the grip around MGS’s throat slacks. The man is being flung off him and slumps on the wet pavement. MGS scrambles to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath. The cool rainy air tastes sweet rushing down his burning throat.

A bit out of it, he glances up and sees a dark-haired boy - about his age - who’s holding a heavy liquor bottle. The sharp edges of the bottle’s bottom are smeared with crimson. The sight of blood dripping to the ground makes MGS’s stomach turn a little. He makes the mistake of looking at the limp homeless man lying in a puddle and almost throws up at the spreading blotch of dark red on the back of the man’s head. He starts to tremble when he realizes how close to being killed he had just come.

I would picture that HT is shaken by what he had done, too. Picking up the bottle had been like an instinct to him. He had swung it as hard as he could, not really thinking the consequences. Now, though, a small panic monster in his head whispers that he had probably killed someone.

But the panic monster doesn't get very far in its fear-mongering until HT’s training kicks in. Still squeezing the neck of the heavy bottle, he creeps to the crazy man, ready to bounce if he decides to go for a second round. Even in the heavy rain, he can smell the thick odor of homelessness and alcoholism. He doesn't really want to touch the man but reaches to check for a pulse. It’s there, but otherwise the man is out cold.

Only then he really pays attention to the scrawny red-haired boy still on his knees. He looks at HT wide-eyed, shaking, and obviously in shock. There are red prints already forming around his throat where the man had strangled him.

“Is - ,” the redhead says shakily, his voice a bit hoarse, “is he de - did he - “

“He’s still breathing.”

“Am-ambulance,” the boy says, now more anxiously and looking around, “we need an ambulance. Police! Someone!”

HT doesn't reply but flips out his phone. The boy keeps glancing at him as he gets a hold of HC on the other end and explains the situation. He frowns when it doesn't sound like a 911 call to him.

“Who was that?”

“My brother. He knows what to do.”

Well, HT knew what to do, too, but he wasn’t in the position to make those things happen. Not yet, at least. But he knew.

HT asks where MGS lives and offers to walk him the rest of the way. MGS seems confused about should they just leave the man and not wait for his brother. HT assures him that his brother will come any minute now. It’s all under control. The words kind of come out of his mouth without him even realizing what he’s saying. He would like to think it’s the shock but knows it’s his training. It’s the protocol. When you follow certain steps, there is no need to panic.

And yet his hands are trembling when he finally puts the bottle down. Oh, well. He would fake till he made it.

On their way to MGS’s home, MGS is quiet and just clutches his backpack against his front. HT tilts the umbrella to cover MGS more, seeing how he is shaking from cold and shock.

HT tries to make idle conversation. He asks MGS’s name, where he goes to school, what was he doing out in the rain, is there anyone at home, and maybe mentions that he’s seen MGS around the school. Little by little the atmosphere starts to loosen and the tightness in MGS’s voice eases up. Talking also relaxes HT.

At MGS’s house, MGS looks at HT and asks if he wants to come inside to dry up. He’s frowning a little and seems worried. HT looks at him a bit dumbfounded and then bursts out a laugh.

“You really are quite something,” he says at MGS’s confused face. “You just survived all that and you’re already inviting a stranger to your home. Are you an idiot?”

MGS’s face darkens, and he says that if HT would rather walk back in soaked clothes, then it’s his business. He looks hurt and embarrassed. The attitude makes HT smile a little, though, and he tousles the wet red hair.

“I’ll see you around,” he says and leaves with a little wave over his shoulder.

He makes a mental note to keep an eye out for a certain red hair at school from now on.

Having a friend in each other

They start running into each other at school more. (Well, HT started rotating towards MGS.) Turns out MGS has seen him around school, too. He says that HT seems popular and the girls often talk about him in class. He seems a bit confused as to why HT is seeking out his company when he has so many other friends.

MGS is a bit awkward around him, but HT finds it endearing. He’s quick to rise to teasing baits and shows his emotions quite a lot if you knew where to look. To HT, he seemed like a pure-hearted kid. Probably too pure-hearted for his own good. He was a bit stiff at first, but with some coaxing, you could get him to talk. HT liked listening to him talk the most.

The more they got to know each other, the more HT found himself hanging onto MGS’s company. When school days ended, he lingered at the crossroads where their paths parted. He made up excuses to walk MGS home or to his part-time jobs. (He thought MGS was amazing for working already, but MGS just shrugged.) Finally, walking MGS home continued to get himself invited inside for homework, snacks, some games, dinner, staying the night on Fridays.

HT soaked in all the sense of home he could get at MGS’s place. The messy pile of shoes in the entryway. The scribbled notes on the fridge door. The home-cooking. The older models of video games MGS had. The smell of cheap detergent on the sheets when he was sleeping on the floor of MGS’s small room.

Mrs. Mo was a bit surprised by his son’s unexpected friend at first but quickly adopted HT as a natural part of the household. She was more at peace knowing that MGS had some company after school when she had to work late. Sometimes she listened to the boys talk (read: HT teasing and MGS bickering) in MGS’s room. It felt like this new friend had bought some of MGS’s lost childhood back to her son’s voice.

The tighter they became, the more they naturally learned about each other. The topic of family was sore for both of them and something they didn't talk about often. MGS often got heated when the talk circulated to his father. Heated in a way that HT didn't find cute. He got angry and bitter. Usually, HT let him vent through it quietly. But MGS didn't hide things as such even though he didn't really like to talk about some of them. Instead, he was convinced and would stand his ground vehemently.

HT, on the other hand, was more evasive. He didn't want to put MGS in a position where he would know too much. MGS seemed impressed by HT’s brother. He sounded a bit jealous. HT also avoided saying much because he was ashamed. Here he was sitting in this home of good, decent people and enjoying their hospitality while he really was part of the bad guys in the world. His people were the ones who MGS hated so much when he talked about his father’s imprisonment.

But then something happened within HT’s world. Something that shocked him and scared him and gave him a traumatic experience. One day at school, he was visibly on edge and distracted. He looked increasingly tired. He snapped at MGS which he very rarely did. When at the end of the day, MGS asked if he wanted to come over (it was Friday), he was a bit relieved but also worried when HT said no. HT never said no to that.

That night Mrs. Mo had the late-night shift, so MGS was alone when HT suddenly showed up with a duffel bag. He looked horrible. There was an angry red mark on his cheek and a trickle/smear of dried up blood on the corner of his mouth. His eyes were red-rimmed. He hung his head low, asking MGS if he could stay the night after all.

MGS told him to take a bath. He heated up the leftover rice-noodle soup he had had for dinner. HT looked a bit lost coming out of the bath. MGS told him to take a seat and served the food. Quietly and slowly, being careful of his cut lip, HT slurped the soup. He wouldn’t meet MGS’s eyes.

MGS wanted to ask what the hell was going on but decided against it every time the questions danced on his tongue. He was curious but he had never seen HT like this. He looked darker. At some points of the night, MGS felt like he couldn't really recognize him at all.

MGS made HT a bed on the floor the usual way. HT just turned his back to him and hummed in return when MGS said good night. After a while, MGS drifted off but woke up to strange noises. It sounded like heavy breathing. Not panting exactly but more like...gasping for breath. He snapped the lights on and found HT sitting on his makeshift bed. His eyes were wide, and it looked like he was breathing hard but couldn't breathe at the same time.

Luckily MGS had been around enough hyperventilation to know what it looked like. He hurried to find a paper bag from the kitchen, cursing that the damn things were everywhere but seemed to vanish when you really needed them. He helped HT press the opening of the bag tightly against his gaping mouth. At first, it looked like HT got more panicked, but MGS kept pressing the bag firmly.

Little by little, HT’s breathing calmed down and the wild look in his eyes faded. Finally, he pushed MGS’s hands away and tried to go for a grin and joke how this was pretty lame of him but he couldn't quite work his charm. A bit lost, MGS wondered what to do. Then he asked if HT wanted to read some comics till they got sleepy again. HT didn't want to read but asked if MGS would read. And keep the lights on. And like that - while MGS was glancing at panels of high-school-level humor - HT told him about having a fight with his father, talking back to him, knowing when he had pushed over the limit, and the next thing his head had been ringing.

MGS didn't know which freaked him out more: the story, the flatness of HT’s voice, or when his voice started to get thick and he pressed his face tight against the pillow. MGS hesitated if he should comfort HT somehow but it all felt too awkward. So, he just listened and hummed whenever there was s suitable pause. Eventually, HT fell silent and after a while, MGS noticed he had fallen asleep. He fixed the blanket over HT’s shoulders, climbed to his own bed, and left the lights on.

HT stayed the weekend, but they didn't really talk about that night afterwards. The next morning, HT seemed more to himself, smirking and teasing, gobbling the breakfast MGS made them. Mrs. Mo looked at HT a bit funny when she came home from her shift but didn't say anything. She just gave the boys a free night from doing the dishes.

Overall, they got to know each other better than anyone else at school. HT knew about MGS’s excitable, softer, and adorable side. He was a good kid who worked hard and around whom HT felt at ease, though silently guilty. MGS knew the HT that wasn’t the kind of charmer everyone at school saw him as. Despite being so popular, he seemed strangely lonely to MGS. He guessed HT had some kind of darker side that he didn't want to talk about and tried to hide. MGS doubted anyone had seen HT like that other night. It seemed his family was mixed up in some shady business, and MGS didn't quite know how to feel about that.

The angst of unrequited love?

You mentioned if this version of Tianshan would be closer to Zhanyi, and I think that could be possible. I doubt they would be that kind of softer, lovey-dovey dynamic, but my nose kind of sniffed a possibility for a similar unrequited love as JY had.

HT could start gaining romantic feelings for MGS somewhere along the way. But in my head, he would hide his feelings much the same way he does/did in the canon version, just take it to a more obvious level. Mask his feelings with jokes and double meanings. Make him kind of push but then pull back as if unsure.

His feelings for MGS would be laced with believing he doesn’t deserve to be loved by someone like MGS. He’s one of the bad guys. MGS is one of the good ones, and his family has been hurt by people like HT enough. And yet HT craves for what he has with MGS and nurses his unrequited love. It gives him both pain and comfort.

But he didn't want to confess. For one, he wasn’t sure where MGS stood on things like love. He seemed awkward around girls and often ended up scaring them off by his glare and harsh tone. The topic of romance hadn't really come up, or if it had, MGS usually remained silent. One time HT had decided to roll the dice and brought up jerking off. MGS had gone beet-red and stammered that what the hell was HT talking about. For a moment, HT had toyed with the idea of pushing for more but decided against it and brushed the topic off as a joke. MGS had looked damn cute, though.

Secondly, and more importantly, HT didn't think he was worthy of MGS the way he was now. He needed to do better, he wanted to do better. He needed to make decisions instead of slinking around like a kicked puppy. He needed a vision for himself and then pursue it. So, he decided to become someone better for MGS. Someone strong and good and reliable. His own man. The first step was him making HC talk their father into letting HT live by himself. The school was a good enough excuse.

At the same time, they grew a bit apart. MGS got older and took on more part-time jobs. HT concentrated on working on himself. He lost sight of MGS for a while, and it turned out things had gone worse for him. As HT was busy becoming a better man, MGS had grown more bitter and angry. It wasn’t until HT learned that MGS had agreed to get expelled from school that he woke up to what direction MGS had drifted to. On HT’s watch, too.

They had a big argument about the deal. They had often bickered in the past but never really had a serious fight. HT was angry MGS was knowingly mixing up with people SL even though they were obviously taking advantage of him and basically making him write them a blank check. MGS fired back that how could HT understand anything since HT was people like SL. That cut deep for HT, and it was the first time he wanted to slap MGS. Instead, they got their separate ways, brooding and glaring.

The next time HT saw MGS’s face, he knew something had gone horribly wrong. He heard that MGS was accused of assaulting some girl. Furious, he went to confront MGS about how stupid he had been, but all the anger died when he saw how shaken MGS was. He looked completely lost and horrified. All he seemed able to worry about was “they are going to tell my mother”. HT hugged him tight and said that everything was going to be fine. He will sort this out, don’t worry.

He fought with SL and got HC involved, too. HC took care of the deal, but HT never told MGS how exactly it had happened. In the same way he had never told him that the homeless man had been dead by the time HC’s crew had gotten to the alleyway. Instead, HT shoved the guilt deeper where it fueled his drive to become a better man.

But HT decided one thing after that fiasco. He wouldn’t let MGS drift away anymore. He wouldn’t get so wrapped up in his own vision that he lost sight of what mattered the most.

That is I guess where this AU version kind of leaves off and connects to the canon story? This version of Tianshan would have their friendship established first, and HT’s romantic feelings would come later. They would be more unrequited in a similar angsty way as JY’s. The trust between would have also been established through their growing friendship. I feel like there would be tons of things that could be added to this, especially ending-wise, but...yeah, something like this maybe?

Thank you for your wonderfully interesting question, dear anon! How do you vision their relationship would have developed?

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #answered ask

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blissfulsun · 4 years ago

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3rd installation of the lessons in love series, written for and with my angel Nics in mind because it’s my best frenssss bday!!! I love you so much💖@vlobsessed

word count: 2,311

A masterpiece in the making // Jeff Wittek

‘You’ve been quiet...’

It’s a simple observation made by Jeff, his fingers intertwined in your own as he leads the way and you follow.

The fact you look so much like a couple right now is not lost on you, hands clasped tightly together and his jacket adorning your frame.

An older lady even smiles as she walks past you two, it’s the fondness in his eyes that’s corresponding your own which makes her compliment how lovely of a couple you make.

He’s right, you’ve been quiet since then, far too focused on the hammering in your chest and whether Jeff can hear it.

If not that, then he can definitely feel just how clammy your palm has become.

‘Angel?’ there’s humour in his tone, underlying concern that dances in his eye when you finally look up at him just as he pulls your clasped hand up and lays a feather light kiss to the rings adorning each finger.

‘Sorry, ‘m just hungry’ it’s half a lie, since your stomach does grumble following the confession.

Jeff knows there’s more to it, but he also knows how you operate, will tell him what’s on your mind when you’re ready.

Besides, his primary concern right now is to feed you before you get grumpy, a look consisting of a permanent pout and furrowed brows that he secretly loves.

‘What my girl wants she gets’ You soften, staring up at him with uncontrollable wonder but Jeff just misses it, already looking around the street for a place you might like.

You end up in a quiet coffee shop, quaint and homely despite it’s location in the city, yourself taking a seat after Jeff has promised he already knows what you want as he goes to order.

He sits close in the corner booth, your thighs touching and one of his arms around your shoulders while the other pushes another dose of caffeine your way.

‘Is it-’ You begin to ask. ‘oat milk? Course, told you I know exactly what you like baby.’

He feels smug in the way his words seem to make you frazzled, teeth nipping at your bottom lip which makes his heart lodge itself in his throat in return, accidental payback.

Because you are, frazzled that is, it’s a simple detail: knowing how you like your coffee or that you always forget to bring a jacket wherever you go.

It’s the choosing to remember that keeps you in your own head so much on this day, Jeff’s choice to take notice of your habits, and you’re not even sure why it feels so different now, why it seems to have such an earth shattering effect on your thought process but it does.

It feels good to be known without asking, you don’t remember the last time you’ve let someone close enough to even have the opportunity.

Not like this, with his feet kicking against yours under the table as Jeff retells a story from a barbershop shoot you missed earlier that week, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck.

Hours pass like this and you never really notice, afternoon slipping away without a care in the world, your usual habit of glancing at the clock forgotten in favour of looking at him, face animated in the storytelling, eyes reflecting the sunlight bouncing from the windows as strangers come and go but you don’t want to look away and miss a single thing.

Has he always held your full attention like that? Hours turned to days spent in each other’s company, with your friends crowded around you but no one else truly in your sight.

‘We should head back to the car if we wanna make our booking in time’ Jeff finally says, bursting the little bubble that’s somehow become your favourite spot in a couple of hours.

You nod, standing up to follow him outside after thanking the barista in passing, hands once again intertwined.

Maybe, just maybe your mind has been playing trick on you and there’s nothing different in the way Jeff glances down at you while you roam the streets, there’s nothing unusual about the comfort of his frame towering so closer over yours, or the way he opens the passenger door for you and lands his hand on the top of your thigh as he drives.

It’s nothing more than two friends pushing boundaries in the name of your forsaken assignment.

But then he’s smiling over at you, wind blowing his growing hair underneath the cap and cheeks full with bubbling laughter and you think, god, I love you, almost whisper it across the console when you’re sure the music playing is far too loud for him to ever hear it.

Yeah, it’s definitely you that’s falling, simultaneously for your best friend and apart.

The day continues on, as if you haven’t had an epiphany that’s shaken you to the core.

Jeff put the truck in park, runs around to your side of the car to open your door and reaches for your hand.

You fight the urge to shiver when your fingers intertwine.

‘You ready baby?’ He asks, dimples on show and brown eyes lit with underlying excitement at the prospect of the next part of your evening.

‘I would be if you finally told me what it is exactly that we’re doing’ you whine, lips forming into a playful pout that Jeff mocks with his own before letting your hand go in favour of throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you tight into side.

He comes clean with his lips pressed against your forehead, a half peck accompanied by an instruction ‘We’re just around the corner, you’ll see’ Once you do, the excitement surges through you.

‘The Broad?’ Jeff observes carefully, fondness sparking in his heart at how easily your expression brightens at the sight.

Deep inside, he’s already sure you’re bound to be the most angelic work of art he’ll see tonight, a masterpiece of freckles, scars and booming laughter all wrapped up in the best girl he’s ever had.

Jeff coughs, hand flying to rub at the back of his neck as he nods in answer to your question.

‘I got us tickets to that light exhibit you wanted t-’ Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets as you interrupt.

‘Kusama? I thought they were sold out’ your attempts at getting tickets proving futile in months passed.

You watch the man shrug, expression a mixture between sheepish and smug, ‘I have my ways doll.’

The only thing left to do is leap into his awaiting arms, you whisper a gentle thank you with your head furrowed into his neck, lips pressed against the skin there momentarily, the touch is so feather light Jeff’s left wondering if it ever really happened as you pull away only to grab his hand and head inside with a new found bounce to your step.

He’s right. The mirror rooms are beautiful, each installation of light stretching on in its endless path.

Your eyes brightened by colour in wonder, each reflecting in the smile that shows your teeth and dimples as Jeff takes pictures and poses accordingly at your request.

He listens to your explanations , every single thought, hangs on to every word as it leaves your pretty lips.

I could stay here forever. The thought presents itself through an exhale in your mouth, eyes travelling around the final room to land on the brunet that’s asking one of the other visitors to take a picture of you guys. Jeff returns with a sweet older lady in tow.

‘C’mere doll’ he finds himself behind you, arm wrapped around your waist and palm splayed across your stomach, you smile, first at the lady and then again in preparation for the picture when the same hand turns your frame around and closer in his clasp, Jeff’s face leaning down.

The flash goes off. He doesn’t kiss you, merely hovers with his forehead pressed against your own, but each of your erratic breaths makes the cupid bow of your upper lip graze the tip of his own.

‘You two make a lovely couple, it’s sweet to see two young people so in love’ the older lady interrupts the storm brewing in your heart.

The two of you reluctantly pull away, each reeling at the almost that hangs in the air as Jeff clears his throat and takes his phone back.

We do..I am, you admit to yourself, gaze following the man that’s somehow the brightest beacon of light to your pacified mind.

You’re surrounded by art, sculptures and reflections of beauty but there’s only one masterpiece worth observing in wonder for eternity if you get the chance.

Unknowingly to you, Jeff’s heart is settling in his rib cage with the same realisation. What now?

Something changes. Shifts as you exit the art gallery to be met with darkness of the night and sidewalks illuminated by streetlights.

Jeff’s at ease, movements intentional as his hand slips into your own.

You lift the intertwined fingers up to kiss his knuckles, pretending the blush you see dusting his cheeks and mirrored in your own is caused by evening breeze and not this new found quiet affection that feels so right.

‘Hungry?’ Jeff asks, breaking the comfortably silence as he swings your hands as you walk to the car.

‘Mmmm’ you ponder, ‘we could cook something back at mine?’ he nods, the journey spent listening to another one of your playlists made with him in mind.

It should still terrify you. How your body slots against his, filling every space and gap with gentle precision, each of you mindfully working around the other as you teach him how to make the pasta dish of yours Jeff loves.

The rest of the evening slipping past you in a domestic bubble of his aftershave wafting through the air and directly into your nose as you cuddle into his chest on the couch.

‘Y/n...baby wake up’ the soft whisper stirs you awake.

The moan of protest that leaves your mouth in realisation of being awake causes Jeff’s chest to rumble in laughter under your weight.

‘Let’s get you to bed doll’ he insists again.

‘Mhm...yeah, I wanna shower first’ you protest sleepily, body clinging to his warmth like a koala as Jeff sits up and begins the journey to your bedroom.

Though once he sits you and pulls away you open your eyes to see the tiles of your bathroom from the sink counter.

Your eyes watch his every move, white cotton shirt stretched along his muscled back as Jeff turns on the shower and sets it to a warm temperature that immediately fills the room with steam.

He turns around to give you a soft smile, a sweet go ahead before turning to step out.

You’re not sure when you move, feet meeting the cold floor tiles as your small hand wraps around his wrist.

Jeff’s lost, brown eyes searching your own for an answer once he turns around, only seeing the vulnerability laced in your own that causes a stammer in his heart.

You’re not sure what you’re doing, toeing this invisible line as you pause to momentarily fidget, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip before you whisper ‘Stay.’

One word, short and simple but enough to shatter the thin veil of almost that’s hang over both of you all day, if not for months.

You think he’ll protest, respond with a Jeff like nervous giggle and the shake of his head that’s meant to let someone down easily, you’ve seen it happen in the past with your very own eyes.

Instead, you watch the man take a shaky breath, eyes fleeting up and down your frame that’s changed into a hoodie of his earlier.

He moves, hands instinctively reaching in your direction before they go for his own T-shirt instead, each garment falling to the floor with a thud as you slip your own off and step inside, distorted by the foggy window of your shower.

Jeff hovers outside, inches of colourful glass separating him from you.

Before you have a chance to call out his name he’s inside, pools of darkened brown tracing every detail of your bare face framed by wet hair.

His gaze drops only for a short second, but it feels like a lifetime as you allow yourself to admire his toned chest and pause at the deep v lines of his hips without looking any lower.

‘Turn around’ the gentle command pulls you away from reverie, you do as he asks.

Breath quivering in your throat as you watch his hands reach to the shelf built into the wall to pull out your favourite bottle of shampoo before he squirts some onto his palm and begins to massage the soap into your strands, from the roots down to the ends that fall down against the lover skin of your back.

The sensation is heavenly, Jeff’s long fingers gentle in their effort to clean your hair thoroughly before moving on to conditioner.

You turn around after, silently returning the favour once he gets the hint and leans down slightly to match your height and allow you easier access to the locks matted against his forehead.

There’s a moment of clarity, your eyes falling closed as he pulls you into his wet and naked chest, arms wrapping around your shoulder as you both sigh against each other.

It remains, buzzing in the air when you slip into the bed and slot yourself against his side, head on his chest and leg thrown across his own as Jeff whispers a sweet good night that’s met with your soft snores.

It’s gone in the morning. When you wake up tangled in cold sheets and alone, tears blurring your vision at the realisation that your twenty four hours is finally up.

#hope u enjoy my love!!!🥺 this entire series is dedicated to u anyway but especially this part💓💖💗#thank u all for reading!!🥰❣️#lessons in love #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek blurb #jeff wittek fanfiction #credit to my baby Clara for the beautiful #photo** she’s a beaut and so as her edits❣️✨#ughitsbaby

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Shoes

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is here! This takes place over the course of a year and is told from Spencer’s perspective and how he handles his grief. Also, just a note. I’m aware I jumped from two months to four months. At first, I was going to do like every couple of months, but then I had ideas for the upcoming months and just left it like that. So just a heads up, it’s not a typo.

TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who’s ever went through a miscarriage. I don’t know if anyone who has might stumble upon this, but if you aren’t in the right headspace to read something like this then please don’t. Even though this is a work of fiction, I know it’s a very real, hard and triggering subject for some. So if you’re in a bad headspace and find yourself not being able to read this, I understand completely.

Sit back, relax (maybe with some tissues cause this hurt to write) and enjoy all 11k words. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst)

Word Count: 11,051

Spencer woke to sounds of laughter.

He opened his eyes to see early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He figured it had to be around 7:00, maybe 7:30.

He tossed the sheets off his body, getting out of bed.

He could hear Y/N’s voice as he walked down the hall from the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He recognized another sound as the television playing, as well.

The scent of freshly cooked bacon wafted from the direction of the kitchen. He thought he smelled pancakes too.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he saw Y/N at the stove fixing breakfast, their little girl sitting at her feet on the floor, chewing on a toy of hers.

Sensing his entrance, her tiny head turned, grinning big when she spotted him.

She was quite literally the perfect mixture of him and Y/N. She had his curls, but Y/N’s hair color. Her eye shape and color was all Spencer, but her lips and mouth came from Y/N. She had Spencer’s nose, yet Y/N’s face shape. Her smile was as bright as her father’s and her skin the shade of her mother’s.

It seemed, in theory, to be the weirdest combination of small features from both of them, but it worked. She was the most perfect little girl.

But then again, he was a tad bit biased.

The toy fell from her fist to the floor with a clang, forgotten for the moment as she crawled in his direction.

“Da da da da,” she babbled.

Y/N turned, finally noticing Spencer’s entrance.

“Morning,” she grinned at him, “You must’ve slept well, your bed head is insane.”

He chuckled, picking his little girl up in his arms, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

“Well I guess I know where her crazy bed head comes from,” he grinned, motioning to his daughter.

“I’ll say,” Y/N shook her head, exasperated, “By the way, breakfast is almost ready.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite, keeping it out of reach of the grabby baby hands.

“Do you mind feeding her while I finish this up? She’s getting hungry.”

“Sure,” he smiled, carrying her to her high chair, sitting her in it.

She immediately started fussing. She hated being constricted. Whether it was her high chair or her carrier, she wasn’t much of a happy camper not being able to be on the move.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, “But daddy’s got breakfast for you.”

He grabbed the plate of cut up scrambled eggs and put some on the tray of her high chair. She stopped fussing, reaching a hand for the fluffy egg. Apparently, if food was involved, she’d tolerate being in the chair.

She held out a piece of egg to Spencer and he ate it out of her hand, making her smile big. His heart was so full of love for his daughter that he didn’t think it could expand any more than it already had. But every day, his heart grew just a little bit more, his love for her ever growing for as she herself grew.

He ran a hand over her mess of curls, kissing her head.

“I love you, baby girl.”

That was when his alarm rang.

Spencer laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. This time, he was awake for real.

This time, he was waking to reality.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream he’d had. One that was always recurring, one way or another.

What hurt the most was the fact that the dream represented exactly what his life was supposed to look like.

But life, as many knew, could be unfairly cruel.

•

It had been January 3rd.

The holiday season had officially wrapped up; everyone was still in a holiday hangover mode and probably going back to work and school.

But for Spencer, it was the best day ever.

Y/N had taken at least half a dozen pregnancy tests, unbeknownst to him, before she finally told him.

He’d about fell off the couch in alarm when he’d heard her shriek from the bathroom. In a flash, he’d rushed to the bathroom, fearing something was wrong. He paused at the doorway, where she had been about to exit, to find him.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked, clearly panicked.

His eyes quickly scanned her for any injuries, blood, anything wrong. But she was crying. And smiling. The two displays of emotion couldn’t seem to connect in his brain, his worry clouding his thinking. He was so preoccupied with making sure she was okay, that he didn’t even notice the spread of pregnancy tests that laid on their bathroom counter.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He was reaching out to her, when she spoke.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her smile growing even more impossibly wide.

Spencer was so stunned for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. It was as if it took a minute for the words to leave her mouth and reach his brain.

Her forehead creased, now concerned that he wasn’t as happy about the news as she was.

Then, it finally clicked.

“You’re pregnant?!” he exclaimed, his entire face lighting up.

He was smiling so big; his dazzling smile was showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes that sparkled with joy were also crinkling at the corners. It was one of Y/N’s favorite looks on him. It was hard not to be happy when he smiled so big.

She nodded, still a bit apprehensive at his hesitation. She showed him the test.

“I’ve taken six. All came back positive.”

Then he did something that really surprised her. Spencer quite literally hooted from joy. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as he spun her around a time or two.

Her squeals of laughter warmed his heart as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin.

They had talked in depth about having children many, many times before. They both adored kids with all of their hearts and wanted to have their own some day. In fact, it most likely wasn’t a typical day unless one or the other made some sort of mention about their future kids.

They hadn’t been actively trying though. It was more of a case for them of letting it happen when it was supposed to happen. Apparently, it was in the cards for them that it happened sooner than they even expected it to.

“So you’re not upset, are you?” she asked when he finally set her down.

She chewed at her bottom lip. Something she tended to do when she was nervous.

She was still the tiniest bit concerned after seeing his blank face for the first couple of seconds.

“No! No,” Spencer reassured her, “You just caught me so off guard that it took me a minute to realize what you’d actually said.”

She chuckled.

“I know. I actually did a double take when I took the first test. I didn’t believe it, so I obviously had to check...five more times. Guess that explains why I almost puked at the smell of the turkey at Christmas.”

Spencer smiled, his hand resting on her stomach. It would still be a while before the signs of pregnancy would start to appear, but the thought of this tiny child that they’d both created was currently growing inside of her still amazed him.

His eyes met hers, their excitement and joy mirroring one another’s.

It was going to be the start of an amazing new year.

•

A doctor’s appointment was scheduled to confirm the pregnancy.

After blood work and the other necessities, it was confirmed that Y/N was around six weeks pregnant. Spencer was overjoyed.

A due date of August 9th was set. Then it was time for the ultrasound.

A tiny nugget appeared on the screen. It literally looked like the size of a peanut.

“It’s our little peanut,” Spencer smiled, squeezing her hand.

Thus, the nickname Peanut was born. They’d use it at least until they found out the sex of the baby. Until then, Peanut it would be.

They both gazed in awe at the ultrasound screen as the tech checked to make sure everything was on track with the pregnancy, the baby was growing well, etc. It was surreal to Spencer to see this tiny life on the screen. One that ultimately belonged to both Y/N and him.

He didn’t expect to feel such an overwhelming amount of emotions as he was currently experiencing.

He was happy, of course. He was nervous; becoming a parent was a big deal. That along with fear melded together as one, he was going to be partially responsible for this child.

He felt awe, he felt surprise, still not able to believe this was real.

But most importantly, he felt love. His heart was so filled with it. For the baby that he would meet at the end of this summer, for Y/N, the love of his life and all she was going to experience in the coming months to give this child shelter and then eventually, life.

After the appointment and with a copy of the ultrasound in hand, they headed home. He couldn’t wait to show the team the picture.

This baby wasn’t even a full two months old yet, but he was already so proud of his child.

“He or she will definitely have your nose. I will riot if they don’t,” Y/N chuckled, looking at the picture.

“What? Why?”

His light laugh filled the car, amused by her statement.

“Because you have the cutest nose ever and our baby better have it,” Y/N pointed out.

It was then a thought occurred to him.

“I need to make a quick stop.”

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had returned to the car, a bag in hand. He’d made Y/N wait in the car while he chose his item. It was going to be a surprise.

“What’d you get?” she asked, trying to reach for the bag.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “It’s just something for the baby.”

He set the bag in the backseat, on the floor behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t reach.

“Well then why can’t I see?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled.

He thought back to earlier in the store when he finally found what he had been looking for. He held one in the palm of his hand, amazed at how small they were.

They were perfect.

He paid for them and walked out with his new purchase, anxious to surprise Y/N at a later date with them.

They were a pair of baby converse shoes, in black, just like Spencer’s.

•

The entirety of the BAU were thrilled with the news. From the team to even other members who Spencer very rarely, if ever, worked with.

The ultrasound picture was passed around, Spencer beaming the entire time as they gave their congratulations, hugs, kisses and high fives.

“What do you know? The day has finally come that Dr. Spencer Reid has created offspring,” Luke Alvez joked.

“Hush,” Penelope Garcia scolded her boyfriend, “We’re all so excited for you, Spencer.”

“I knew it would happen,” Jennifer Jareau smiled, gazing at the picture, “Finally I get to be an aunt.”

David Rossi even threw a small celebration for them at his house for them with amazing, authentic Italian food and good wine—well, sparkling juice for Y/N.

There were many jokes, many smiles, many laughs and a lot of love.

Spencer was on cloud nine.

It was the best month ever.

•

January flew by.

Spencer was constantly busy with both his work and home life.

He and Y/N spent hours online looking at pictures for nursery inspiration. They looked at cribs, toys, clothes, both for little boys and little girls, dreaming of how cute Peanut would look in said outfit.

They researched names, already tossing names back and forth to get a feel of what one another liked and didn’t like.

He was relieved to know that so far, the first trimester had been pretty good to Y/N. Other than exhaustion and mild nausea, no other symptoms seemed to plague her at the moment.

Spencer could hardly wait for the weeks to pass. He was excited to watch their baby grow both inside the womb and outside.

It was another typical night getting ready for bed after a long day. Work had been long hours of paperwork on the latest case they’d just wrapped up.

As he had been doing, Spencer rubbed Y/N’s belly, talking to Peanut before settling in for the night.

“Good night Peanut,” he kissed her belly, “Get a good night’s sleep so you can grow big and strong and finally show everyone you’re in there.”

She chuckled, knowing good and well that Spencer was anxious for the pregnancy bump to finally appear.

He kissed her, told her goodnight and wished her sweet dreams before falling asleep at just about the same time his head hit the pillow.

February 3rd had been just another normal day.

Spencer was shook awake and his eyes shot open, his first thought being that he’d overslept and was going to be late for work.

He sat up, noticing that instead of the morning light filling the room, there was only a small glow from the bedside lamp lighting the room. It was still dark outside.

“Spencer.”

Something in Y/N’s tone made his stomach clench in dread. Her voice was choked and slightly shaky.

He turned her way, as she pushed the covers back, his eyes landing on the alarming pool of red staining the bedsheet.

“I won’t stop bleeding,” her voice cracked.

The next hour was filled with a flurry of activity. Him rushing her to the hospital, the nerve wracking time spent waiting on the doctor, the tests, the blood. All the blood.

It was like crimson laughter in their faces.

The doctor’s words were the nail in the coffin.

“You’ve miscarried, I’m so sorry.”

They were separated for a short while during the necessary procedure, due to her heavy, incessant bleeding. She had only been ten weeks.

It was February 4th. The day they lost their baby.

•

One Day

The ride home was awkward and silent. No words could be said. They didn’t even know what to say.

She was traumatized, he could tell by the haunted look in her tearful eyes.

She’d had to have a D&C, known as a Dilation & Curettage, for medical reasons. The doctor was too concerned about the amount of blood she was losing to let her go home and miscarry naturally.

He obviously hadn’t been through the procedure himself, but he knew it had to be traumatizing to think of a foreign object having to scrape out the remnants of the failed pregnancy.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but cruelly compare this ride home to the one just a month prior. He felt hollow, like he was stripped of all his emotions. He couldn’t even cry.

He’d never known such a deep pain.

Where does one go from that?

•

One Month

He tried his best to comfort Y/N, but nothing ever seemed to work.

He’d tried to hold her while she cried, but she didn’t want to be touched.

He’d tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to talk.

He’d tried finding a therapist for her to see, but she didn’t want to go.

The subject of the miscarriage was taboo. They never spoke of it. It felt as if it had been erased from their lives all together, like the remnants of chalk on a chalkboard.

His teammates were as devastated as he was, as if it was their own child they’d lost.

When he told them, there was no need for words. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of apologies, a lot of if you need anything, let me know.

No one said it would be okay. He hadn’t even said it to Y/N because it wasn’t okay. They’d lost their child. A baby that never had a chance to grow, never had a chance to meet the outside world, one they would never get to meet.

It had been a month and he hadn’t cried.

He figured Y/N had done enough crying for the both of them.

He felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. She was the one that had to go through the traumatic procedure, the one that had to discover the puddle of blood in the middle of the night. She was the one who blamed herself and her body for not being able to keep the baby alive.

He had no right to cry.

Sometimes, he heard her crying into her pillow at night when she thought he was asleep. He desperately wanted to hold her. He wanted to make everything okay. But he didn’t know if that was even possible.

It was one morning while he was getting ready for work when he found them.

He had just picked out his suit for the day from the closet when a bag tumbled and fell at his feet. He bent to pick it up, not realizing just yet what it was.

He peered inside, curiously, to see what it was before putting it back where it had fallen from.

His heart dropped when he spotted the pair of spotless, brand new baby Converse. He’d forgotten he’d hid it in the closet where Y/N wouldn’t find them, to surprise her later.

They had been forgotten amidst the chaos of the last several weeks.

He balled up the bag, stuffing it at the back of the closet where he didn’t have to see them again before shutting the door to both the closet and his heart.

•

Two Months

Spencer was thoroughly grateful for the recent heavy workload. Not that people being murdered was a good thing.

At least serial killers kept his mind busy.

“Spence, if you need some time off…” Emily Prentiss, friend, teammate and BAU Unit Chief offered hesitantly.

“Emily, I’m fine okay? Have I been doing a bad job lately?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. You’ve been doing excellent work,” Emily answered, truthfully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

She flinched just the tiniest bit at his sharper than normal tone. Most people would’ve missed it, but his trained, profiler eyes caught it.

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve been working a lot lately, staying late.”

He shrugged.

“Just staying on top of my work.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? You know, ever since…” she trailed off, hesitant to even mention the miscarriage.

That was something that was similar to how things at home were. No one mentioned the miscarriage and not out of respect, but more out of fear or the fact they just didn’t know what to say. He could see it in all their eyes though, always wondering.

He just wished they weren’t so worried about him. They could talk about it. He wouldn’t spontaneously lose it.

But at the same time, he was grateful they didn’t bring it up. Sometimes he was afraid that if the topic was broached that he would either break down or do the opposite and throw something.

Either way, work was ideal for keeping his mind focused.

“I’m okay.”

She seemed to believe him because she just nodded and left to head to her office without another word.

Work was about the only stable thing in his life right now.

He had gotten to where he dreaded going home because he couldn’t stand hearing Y/N cry. He never knew what to say.

Even when he’d tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

How could he help her when she didn’t want to be helped?

Working late made it a bit easier to go home. He didn’t have to face her heartbreak.

She was usually asleep by the time he crawled into bed, something he silently was thankful for, even if it did make him feel like a shitty person.

She had just recently gotten her first period since losing the baby. That was as close as they had gotten to actually talking about it.

Apparently, this period was the worst she’d had. She’d curled up in bed with bad cramps and had hardly left it for the last few days.

He hoped it was only because of her period.

•

Four Months

People said some of the most disheartening things.

It was apparent that sometimes, people just didn’t know what to say in a situation. In fact, sometimes it was appropriate to say nothing at all.

A variety of Y/N’s family members told her things like:

Well at least you can try for another one.

You’re young, you’ll have plenty of kids.

What’s to stop you from trying again?

Well at least it wasn’t a planned pregnancy.

Even strangers, when informed of the situation, had said things along the lines of you’ll have another baby.

That was the worst thing to say to anyone who had been in this same scenario. There was no way of knowing if any of that was true.

No one would say that to people who had lost a baby after it was born, so why say it to anyone who had lost an unborn baby?

The insensitive words were like a hammer to glass to Y/N’s mental health. Spencer could see her shrinking more into herself as the days passed.

She never said it, but he knew she blamed herself.

He also knew she had to talk about it, to heal.

“Y/N. We really need to talk about it,” Spencer told her, one day.

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word to her. He was almost afraid of what it would do to her.

“I told you Spencer, I don’t want to.”

“I understand that. But you need to talk about it. You need to get it out of your head.”

She shrugged, not seeming to care. He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t help if she resisted, but he was willing to push a bit too.

“What if we went to a sort of group therapy? You don’t have to talk, just listen to other people’s stories.”

“No.”

“Please,” he almost begged.

He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted to do was to help her.

It was also a distraction from the turmoil that seemed to roll in him like a rebellious ocean wave, getting stronger by the day. But he had to remain strong, he needed to be her support.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to talk to someone, but she actually agreed.

With a quick online search, he found a support group that met every Saturday at 10 a.m. They were going to join the next one.

“I was eight weeks,” a woman with auburn hair, named Lily said.

“I found out I was pregnant when I was only a month along, so pretty early on,” she laughed half heartedly.

Spencer sat next to Y/N, holding her hand.

It had been surprisingly easy to get her here this morning. Maybe because all the fight had left her, maybe she was ready to heal. Whatever it was, he was glad they were here.

The support group was rather casual. Just a dozen or so metal folding chairs placed in a circle. Anyone was welcome to share their story. You could just sit and listen. So far, all they’d done was listen. This was the second story they’d heard.

“I started cramping about ten hours before everything started. I didn’t think of much of it since I knew some cramping is normal in pregnancy. I had to be up early for work, so I went to bed early, hoping a good night’s sleep would help.”

Spencer could feel the tight squeeze of Y/N’s grip. He knew this was hard for her. It was for him, too.

“I woke up two hours before I had to be at work. I was bleeding a lot,” Lily’s voice cracked as she tried not to cry.

“I went to use the bathroom before going back to sleep and that’s when I noticed a gray clump.”

A few of the others reached over squeezing Lily’s arms or rubbing her back, giving her encouragement to continue.

“I was shaking and crying when I went to wake my husband. We went to the ER and they later confirmed that I had miscarried.”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she’d been holding in her hands.

“That was last year. Sometimes it still hurts as much as it did in that moment. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Me and my husband have been trying to conceive again, but haven’t had any luck. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I feel so guilty for wanting to be pregnant again even though I lost a child.”

A chair scraped back against the linoleum floor. It took a moment for Spencer to realize it was Y/N’s.

She stood, running out of the room before he could call after her.

The rest of the group eyed him sympathetically and he mumbled an apology and excused himself.

He found her outside by the car, sobbing her heart out.

“Y/N,” he tried to touch her arm.

She jerked away from his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

He stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

“How could you drag me to something like this?!”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help.”

“You really think it helps to hear women talk about something that was one of the worst days of my life?” she cried, “It didn’t help! It just made me want to forget about it more!”

“Y/N, please,” he said, trying once again to pull her towards him.

“No. I hate you! I hate you for making me come here!”

With that, she spun on her heel, jerking the car door open and getting in, slamming it behind her.

He stood, staring at the place she had just been standing. He wanted to jerk the car door open himself. He wanted to yell too.

He wanted to yell that he’d lost a baby too.

But he didn’t. He simply got in the car quietly and drove home.

•

Five Months

The dreams started in the summer.

Usually it would be some sort of dream where Spencer would wake up to Y/N and their child. It usually differed if it was a boy or a girl.

One dream he’d had recently, he’d taken his little boy to the playground. He watched the toddler play in the sandbox, go down the slide, proud of doing it by himself for the first time. Then he swung on one of the bright yellow swings. He even teeter-tottered in Spencer’s lap. Spencer was too afraid to let the little boy be on it by himself just yet.

It had felt so real, being there on that cool fall day watching his child play, oblivious to everything in the world but his gleeful joy of having the entire playground to himself.

The dreams bothered Spencer more than he cared to admit. Yet, he told no one about them. Not even Y/N.

Things were tense with them, more so than ever. After her outburst because of the support group, they never went back. They also spoke less.

They hadn’t even been intimate since the ordeal.

Not that he had expected to, but this was different than just the normal grieving. He could feel cracks starting to appear in their relationship. It felt like cracks were starting to appear in the concrete protective layer around his heart, that shielded off his emotions.

It was like living with a stranger, sharing a bed with a stranger.

Sometimes he wondered who was worse off, Y/N or himself.

•

Six Months

August was the hardest month yet.

If Y/N had still been pregnant, she would’ve been having the baby soon, if she hadn’t already.

He often wondered what the baby would have looked like. If he or she would’ve looked more like Y/N or more like him. Would it have been stubborn like Y/N? Smart like him? Outgoing like her? Shy like him? What would have been the baby’s favorite toy? Would it have crawled early? Maybe start walking before they were a year old?

The thoughts of a future that they weren’t able to have with this baby were the most toxic thing to his mentality. It was like the “what ifs”; once you started thinking about them, you couldn’t stop.

JJ was the only one to mention it at work that day.

They’d only gotten back the night before from a case in California.

Lately, time away from each other was the best thing for him and Y/N. Gone was the playful, loving relationship they’d had.

In its place was a cold, frigid, fragile relationship.

Spencer was at a loss of what to do anymore. All they did was bicker. That was something they’d never done much of before.

Sure, they’d had arguments, a few bad ones here and there, but these were much worse.

There was a mountain of unsaid words between them that had been steadily built over the last half year. He knew it was as much as his fault as it was hers, but at one point he actually thought it would soon resolve itself.

He never expected it to get to this point.

“How are you?” JJ asked, leaning against the edge of his desk.

By this point he was torn between being tired of being asked how he was and actually wanting to be asked how he was. Besides his best friends and teammates, no one had asked how he was. Not even Y/N.

He gave a little shrug, which of course she saw right through.

“Today was her due date, wasn’t it?”

He had to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. She had had a miscarriage herself. In fact, hers was in a horrible way as well. She lost her baby after being injured in an explosion. If anyone, JJ would understand that sort of pain.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“How are you, really?” she asked.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“Is Y/N not any better?”

JJ had been the only one he’d confided in about his current relationship problems. Even though she didn’t know what to say, she listened.

“No. Things are awful.”

He’d been resorting to sleeping in an interview room every now and then. JJ caught him once and only then did she realize just how badly things had gotten.

“She still doesn’t want to talk about it?” she frowned.

Spencer shook his head.

“Maybe she’s only following your lead, Spence,” she pointed out gently.

His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t grieved properly yourself, have you?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. But JJ had known him for over 15 years. She didn’t have to hear the answer to know what it was.

“I know you hold your emotions close to you, so tightly in fact that you don’t show them at all. You busy yourself with helping others, burying yourself in work, doing anything but processing your emotions. You know as well as I do that that isn’t healthy.”

He remained quiet, staring at his desk. He really didn’t feel like being lectured right now.

“She’s just doing the exact same thing in her own way. Instead of not showing her emotions, she refuses to talk about it, which she thinks would help her heal and move on. Just like facing your grief would help you heal.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he listened.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Her tone was firm. The tone of a concerned friend.

He looked up at her. He was almost positive the pain shone in his eyes.

“A miscarriage is a strange thing. You’re grieving the loss of a person who you never even met. You’re grieving for the person that baby never got to become, for the moments and memories you’d never get. It’s a hard thing to process and it’s hard on both the mother and the father. You may not have gone through the physical aspects that Y/N did, but you were still there. It was your baby that you lost too.”

This much he knew. It was the thought that was constantly in the back of his head, desperately trying to trigger all the emotions he’d been repressing.

“You both need to heal, Spence,” she said softly, “Because it’s much harder to fix a broken relationship when both people are just as broken.”

With that, she left him with his thoughts.

If he thought the day would get any better, it didn’t.

Y/N wasn’t home when he came home that night. It was after 10 p.m. when she finally stumbled in, drunk.

“Where were you?”

Spencer had been worried. If it weren’t for the fact that all her clothes and belongings were still in the house, he would’ve thought that she’d left him. Even after that irrational thought, he was worried for her well being.

“Like you care,” she mumbled, stumbling as she kicked her heels off.

“If you checked your phone, you would see I called and text you dozens of times asking where you were!” he said, exasperated.

“I went out for a drink,” was all the explanation she gave.

“Clearly you had more than one,” he mumbled.

“I’m an adult, I can,” she huffed, “Besides it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He winced at her remark. It cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wow, aren’t you a smart one?”

The sarcasm dropped from her tongue like honey.

“Go get changed. I’m gonna make you some coffee so you can sober up.”

He rubbed his forehead, already tired of this argument. It wasn’t even a bad one at that. It just showed how drained he’d become lately, mentally and emotionally.

“I don’t need your help,” she mumbled, heading down the hallway to the bedroom, “I’m going to bed.”

She may not have needed his help, but he was there with her all night as she vomited in the toilet almost every hour. He held her hair back and rubbed her back.

Her drunken tears, he knew, were a true reflection of her sober emotional state.

When it seemed like she would be able to keep something down, he fetched her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen to fend off the hangover she was sure to have in the morning.

The day had finally ended, finally becoming a day in the past.

As he finally laid down to sleep that night, he felt like another piece of him had crumbled away. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself there was to break.

He slept on the couch that night. It was the first of many nights there.

•

Seven Months

Spencer found himself paying more and more attention to children around him.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He so desperately wanted to be a father.

He wanted to hear the sweet baby gurgles and baby talk. He wanted to hear them say dada for the first time. He wanted to see them begin to crawl, learn to walk, turn from baby to toddler, from toddler to child.

He wanted to hear the patter of feet and the peals of happy laughter as they played. He wanted to be greeted by his kids running for him when he walked in the door from work. He wanted to read them bedtime stories and take them for ice cream.

He wanted to play with them and cuddle them and hear them say I love you daddy.

Most of all, he wanted that with Y/N.

As hard as things had become, he still couldn’t picture himself loving anyone like he loved her.

Cases with children were getting tougher for him to shut out after they had solved it. It was hard to see parents with their children.

He was angry at the world. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been good enough to be a father already.

What if it was because he wasn’t home enough? Or because his job was too dangerous?

The baby would’ve been roughly a month old now. It would’ve lost some of its birth weight to gain it back again, its features would be steadily changing every day, looking a little bit different than it had the day before.

It would probably start smiling a little bit by now, even be aware of the sights and sounds around it.

If only things had been different.

•

Eight Months

Life had slowly begun to fall apart around him.

If Spencer thought he’d felt numb before, then this was what that had been, but ten times worse.

He went through the motions of life on autopilot.

Work.

Home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He shut out his friends, not bothering to return calls. Lying about how he was, how things were, just to appease them.

After an almost fatal mistake on his part on a current case, Emily told him to take some time off.

It wasn’t a suggestion either.

It had been months since things were amicable with Y/N. Sometimes it felt like the way their relationship previously was had been in another lifetime.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d said I love you to each other.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her or held her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal.

Alone at home for an unknown amount of time, Spencer was forced to acknowledge something.

He was broken.

•

Nine Months

Things seemed to have made a bit of improvement. The time away from work surprisingly seemed to help a bit.

Y/N seemed to be in a better headspace than she had been. Maybe not completely great, but they were speaking again.

It was tentative at first. It was something as simple as asking if he needed anything at the grocery store.

“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.

“Well I was thinking of making chicken cacciatore for dinner tonight,” she said softly.

That caught his attention. It was one of his favorite dishes of hers.

Whether it was a peace offering or an olive branch of sorts, he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck and accept it.

“That sounds good.”

He offered a small smile, one which she returned.

That night, they ate dinner in the same room together, actually at the kitchen table. They weren’t hiding away in different rooms, passing one another like ghosts, but were actually enjoying each other’s company again.

No serious stuff was discussed.

They talked about how his work was going and how her part time job as a secretary was going—she’d gotten a part time job shortly before the incident, not because of money, but something to do. He hadn’t been the only one diving into work a lot more in the past months. Most of the time when she hadn’t been home, she had been at work, volunteering to take on extra hours.

It was kind of sad when Spencer thought about it. How they both volunteered to do extra work just so they could avoid each other and the elephant in the room.

They talked about the new season of a show they’d begun watching ages ago, how they needed to watch it. Whether they actually would or not was yet to be seen.

At the end of the day, it was a step in the right direction for them. Maybe things would get better after all.

•

Ten Months

Spencer should’ve known better than anyone as a profiler that when you ignore trauma, you ignore pain, it will only manifest itself. Sometimes the smallest thing can trigger it and when, not if, it’s triggered, it’s like a dam breaking.

That was what happened approximately ten months post incident.

He was a pro at focusing his attention on anything other than things that desperately needed to be dealt with.

That was how he found himself searching for the wrapping paper, offering to wrap some presents for her family.

It was now December, the year almost ready to end. In a way, he was relieved to leave this year in the soon to be past.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it had been the worst year of his life.

Rustling through the junk of clothes and other things in the bedroom closet, he had no luck finding any wrapping paper.

What he did find was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

He stared at it for a few beats before deciding to pick it up and look at it. With unsteady hands, he reached for the crinkled and slightly dusty shopping bag.

Reaching in, he pulled out the baby shoes, resting them both in the palm of his hand.

They still looked as brand new as the day he bought them. Pristine, black and tiny as ever.

That was when the dam broke as did the wall around his heart.

In the ten months following, he hadn’t shed a single tear, first believing he had no right to. Then later on ignoring his pain before his anger set in to turn into complete numbness.

But now, the tears came.

He sank down on the bed, clutching the shoes in his hands, holding them tight against his chest. Sobs wracked his body, the pain unraveling in him layer by layer.

He had never felt such deep pain. He now understood why people said the loss of a child was one of the hardest things, if not hardest thing they ever dealt with.

He cried for the little boy or girl he wished every day that he’d been able to meet.

He’d cried for the baby that would never wear the shoes that he bought and held now.

He cried for the unfairness of the situation.

He cried for the shambles of his relationship, fearful that he might not be able to fix it.

He cried because he’d held on to his pain for far too long.

He cried because he was afraid he’d never feel whole again.

•

Eleven Months

His breakdown before Christmas hadn’t fixed everything, but it had made him feel a bit better.

He no longer held onto the initial searing pain that should’ve been released long ago and it was like a weight off his shoulders.

He still hurt, he still grieved, he still needed to talk about it, but at least he was headed on the right path toward healing.

Spencer had decided what he had to do before Christmas, but decided to wait until after the holidays to act on it.

Christmas had been low key, just the two of them staying at home and exchanging gifts.

He got her some perfume, a novel she’d been wanting to read and a gift card to her favorite store.

She’d given him a Doctor Who figurine he’d been searching for forever, a beautiful edition of War and Peace he’d lusted over ages ago and a new watch.

It was amazing how even though they’d spent most of the year so far apart, they still knew each other well, as if nothing had happened.

It was still a bittersweet day though. He could imagine how different life would have looked if they’d had their little four month old child here with them to celebrate.

He saw the pain in her face, but said nothing.

He knew how she felt.

It was New Years Eve when Y/N found Spencer sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before the sun was even up.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” she sounded uncertain.

He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed.

“We need to stop doing this,” he said.

“Doing what?”

“This,” he motioned between the two of them, “Ignoring everything. Acting like it didn’t happen. We need to talk about the miscarriage.”

He didn’t miss her flinch.

“I can’t. You know that,” she said.

“You need to,” he stressed, “I need to, Y/N.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I can’t and I won’t.”

“Dammit, Y/N!”

His palm slapped the table hard enough to rattle his coffee cup and make her jump.

It wasn’t often that he lost his temper, usually when he did, it was for a good reason. But when he was angry, he was angry.

“You’re not the only one who lost a baby!” he hollered, “Do you honestly think this hasn’t been hard for me too?! This last year has been shit for me as well! I almost lost my job because I made such an obvious mistake that I could’ve died as a result of my mind being in such a bad place! You’ve hardly spoken to me other than to fight with me for a majority of this year! How do you think that makes me feel?! I tried my best to help but you didn’t want it. I tried everything I could to fix you, but it just made things worse! I’ve been through hell too, Y/N, I hurt too! I wish every single day that we didn’t lose our baby. So I’m fucking sorry if I finally am tired of hurting and want to get better by simply talking about it!”

He was breathing hard by the time he’d finished his rant, his chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid breaths.

Y/N was frozen and staring at him. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, mad, stunned or what.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he apologized, in a more normal tone, “But I really think we need to talk about it. This has changed us, Y/N. Surely, you can see that.”

She was still silent.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“I...I didn’t realize. I mean I knew you were upset but I didn’t even know it was so bad, I…” she trailed off, looking like a lost puppy, before looking back at him, “I want to fix this. I do. But I don’t think I can talk about it.”

He sighed, all the fight completely drained from him. He was so, so tired.

“Then I think I have to leave,” he stated matter of factly.

“Leave?!” she startled, “What do you mean? Not for good, right? Spencer, please, don’t.”

“I don’t know if it’s for good,” he said warily, “All I know is I just have to leave for a while.”

It was the hardest thing he had to do, but he knew he needed to. It was for the best in the long run. He needed time to mend and so did she.

He stood from the table, setting his empty mug in the sink.

“I’m going to be staying with Luke and Penelope for a while if you need me,” Spencer said.

He walked toward the door where his already packed bag sat. He noticed her eyes fall on it, taking in just how serious he was about this.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving a tearful Y/N still at their kitchen table.

It was time to heal.

After all, you can’t fix a broken relationship when you’re as broken as it.

•

Eleven Months

“Hi Spencer, it’s me. Y/N…”

There was a pause in the voicemail message.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know voicemail isn’t exactly the place to be apologizing, but I had to say it first before I say everything else and I won’t stop apologizing anyway. But, um, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I wanted to talk to you. Well more like I need to talk to you. If you have time that is. I miss you.”

There was another, shorter pause.

“I love you.”

Spencer’s lips curled just the slightest, hearing the three words he hadn’t heard in so long.

“Bye.”

The voicemail ended, but he held the phone to his ear for a little longer before he pulled it away and pocketed it.

It had been three weeks since he’d left.

He tried not to be disheartened when several days had gone by without any contact from her, then a week, then two.

Penelope had assured him that she needed time to fix herself too, just like he had been working on.

He still had a long way to go, but he was making improvements.

He had profusely apologized to his friends for shutting them out for so long. He dove into his work with new determination, not just to distract him, but because it’s what he enjoyed doing.

He even talked briefly to Luke and Penelope about the whole ordeal, even including the part of his breakdown before Christmas and the shoes.

Suddenly, the world started to look less bleak.

Then today he was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Y/N. He had missed her too, so much.

He missed how they used to be, too.

He tried hard not to, but he found himself hoping against hope that maybe, possibly, things could eventually be okay.

Spencer paused before opening the door of their house. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had no idea what to expect.

He walked in, almost anticipating Y/N to be sitting there, waiting for him. It was odd how much of a stranger he felt in his own home. In fact, he had to stop himself from knocking just a moment ago.

Y/N was nowhere in sight. He walked into the living room, not sure if he should go looking for her, or what. He’d never felt at such a loss.

“Spence, hi.”

He turned at her voice, noticing her just approaching the doorway to the living room from the hallway.

She looked good. The best she’d looked in months. She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair down and brushed, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey.”

His heart had fluttered at the sight of her. He loved her so much; that he couldn’t deny.

“You, uh, wanted to talk?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded, indicating for him to sit on the couch.

It was only then that he saw the tiny converse sitting on the coffee table. He couldn’t explain his reaction to seeing them, other than a sense of grief.

“Where did you find those?” he asked.

“Under the bed. I stumbled upon them when I was changing the sheets.”

He faintly remembered the last time he’d seen them, stashing them under the bed after his sobs had subsided. He wasn’t necessarily hiding them, he felt more like keeping them close by. He had forgotten about that.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at the shoes before looking up at Y/N, tears glistening in his eyes.

“That was your surprise for me and the baby, wasn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You remember that?”

He didn’t know if the choke of emotion he felt in his chest came from the fact she remembered that or that she’d actually mentioned the baby.

“I couldn’t forget it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Spencer? I’m ready to talk about it.”

He looked up from his lap where his gaze had fallen moments earlier, trying to conceal his emotions.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“You were right. I needed to do this a long time ago, but I’m ready now. I just don’t know where to start.”

She smiled sadly, fidgeting with the couch pillow that she’d rested in her lap, as if it were her life vest to survive this conversation.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, “I’ll be right here the entire time. Just start at the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her hand shifting into his, interlocking their fingers together before she began.

“I started cramping that day,” she said hesitantly, “Probably around the time you got up to get ready for work.”

“You never told me that,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded, “At first it was because I didn’t think it was serious, I mean some cramping is normal in a healthy pregnancy. I thought that’s what it was. Then after everything happened...well you know, everything got so complicated.”

Spencer nodded, staying quiet. He squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was listening.

“Anyway, I laid down after you left. I didn’t have work that day, so I thought maybe resting would help it. When I woke, they’d eased off enough to be just a mild nuisance. I mean, I’ve had period cramps that were worse.”

His heart broke listening to her recount what was the worst day of her life. He knew it had to be so tough for her to finally do this and he was so proud that she was finally getting it all out.

“The day passed like that. The cramps got worse by bedtime, so I thought I’d just use the heating pad for a little bit before going to sleep. I had started spotting then. Again, I wasn’t alarmed. That’s another symptom of early pregnancy, sometimes you spot a little. I went to sleep.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself to talk about the next part.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here,” Spencer whispered, his thumb running along her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I can’t remember what woke me up exactly,” Y/N continued, her voice beginning to wobble, “I’m not sure if it was the cramps or the sense of dread because somehow, I felt both. I noticed my legs and the bed sheets felt a bit wet and I turned on the light. I caught a glance at the clock around that time. It was 1:27 a.m. That’s when I saw the blood.”

Tears formed in his eyes. Tears already were falling from her eyes.

“I was so scared, Spencer,” she said in a scratchy whisper, “I think deep down I knew it was happening, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was only when the doctor at the hospital confirmed it that it finally sank in.”

His tears were falling now as well. He remembered that fateful trip to the hospital all too well. His world felt like it had turned upside down.

It was then he realized that his unhealthy grieving process had begun, right there in that hospital room.

“Then I had to have the D&C. I know I was anesthetized, but still just knowing that I had to have this foreign object being shoved up me to scrape out any remnants of this baby that I failed to keep alive.”

She was bawling now. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with her sobs. Spencer pulled her towards him out of habit, regardless that they hadn’t embraced like this for so long. It was just so normal of him to do it, that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

He held her close as she cried into his chest. Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears completely soaking it. He didn’t even care that it was one of his nicer work shirts, he just hugged her tighter, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” he murmured, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, kissing her head, “It was never your fault.”

She sat back, disconnecting their embrace and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

“I know that now. But it’s my fault for pushing you away. I isolated you, didn’t consider your feelings, wasn’t there for you. I’m the one who ruined our relationship.”

Even though she’d attempted to wipe her eyes, it had been a useless gesture. More tears fell again as she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault too,” he said, putting his hands on her face, thumbs wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t try hard enough. I tried to fix you when I couldn’t even fix myself. I’m just as much to blame for our problems and I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

She leaned her face into one of his hands.

“I talked to you. Please talk to me. I wanna know how you’re feeling. I care about how you’re feeling too, even though my actions haven’t conveyed that lately.”

He smiled a bit, dropping his hands from her face and beginning to fidget. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable in front of someone, especially Y/N.

“Spence?”

He looked up at her. He could see the understanding in her eyes. She understood the turmoil roiling in him. She was silently telling him that he could lay his heart out for her.

So that’s what he did.

“It felt like the entire world collapsed around me,” he mumbled.

“I was so excited to be a dad. Obviously,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “I had the idea of buying the matching shoes for the baby. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I love them,” she smiled at him, “I love that you did that.”

“I thought for the first couple of months that I had no right to grieve. You were the one who actually experienced it, so I tried to be strong,” he sighed, resignedly.

“Spencer you-”

He shook his head, cutting her off.

“Please, just let me finish or I won’t be able to get this out.”

She nodded, understandingly.

“That’s when I started blocking it out. I tried helping you, I buried myself in work just trying to forget. To avoid what I was feeling. I started having dreams during the summer.”

He saw the quizzical look on her face, not sure if she should ask aloud what he meant in fear that if she interrupted, he wouldn’t finish.

“I had these dreams where usually it was me and you with our baby. Sometimes it was a boy, sometimes it was a girl. It was always different scenarios, but like average activities, just with a child. You making breakfast while I fed our daughter, me taking our son to the park. It differed from dream to dream how old the child was, but it was all the same kinds of dreams.”

“Around that time anger sat in. After the failed support group visit I was more and more tempted to yell at you that I lost a baby too.”

Involuntarily, his lower lip began to tremble. He felt horrible admitting to that.

“I wish you had. I deserved to be yelled at. I deserved you being angry at me,” she winced.

“No, you didn’t. I feel bad for even admitting that I constantly wanted to yell at you. You were hurting too, Y/N. But it wasn’t just you that I was mad at. I was mad at the world. I was mad at the people who were lucky enough to be parents. It got harder and harder to deal with cases that involved kids or talk to people during cases that had kids. Some people I saw shouldn’t have had kids, they weren’t fit to be parents. I found myself wondering why they were given the gift of new little lives, yet we weren’t.”

He took a deep breath, feeling winded after his sudden ramble.

“I pushed away people too. I pushed you away because I stopped trying to help. I figured I wasn’t going to help anyway. I pushed away JJ, Luke, Garcia, the entire team. All they wanted to do was to help me and I didn’t want to be helped.”

She gave a small half grin, the corner of her mouth quirky slightly, not really a happy smile, more of a melancholy one.

“I guess we had that in common.”

Spencer realized just how much grief they could’ve saved each other if they’d both had been willing to help themselves first. But the past was the past and he wanted things to be different from here on out.

“I found the shoes before Christmas. I had hidden them after stumbling upon them not long after the miscarriage. I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want to think about them. It was too painful. But I found them again and it’s like the grief just finally broke free of the wall I had built around it, in hopes it would go away. I think I cried for more than thirty minutes, just clutching them. After that, things felt a bit easier. Obviously everything wasn’t perfect, but I needed to finally grieve. I hadn’t cried once in all those months up until that day.”

It was her turn to hug him tightly. Spencer held on to her like she was his lifeline, which in a way, she was.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I will never be able to apologize enough,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why it happened, but it happened for a reason,” she said in a gentle tone, “But I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want us to be broken. I’ve done an awful job of showing it, but I love you more than words can describe, Spencer Reid. I don’t want to live life without you by my side.”

It was probably the hundredth time they’d both cried during this conversation, but Spencer supposed it was expected.

He pulled away, looking down at her. The sincerity rang true in her eyes.

He leaned down, his lips like a wisp of a feather as they brushed against hers. He kissed her again, more firmly this time, but still relatively gentle. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose as they seemed to run together.

When they parted, he gave a small laugh amazed at how much lighter he finally felt, at how long it’d been since they’d actually kissed, since they’d actually talked. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they would be okay.

They were both a sniffling mess with tear stained faces along with red rimmed eyes, but they were actually smiling.

“I wouldn’t want to experience life without you by my side either, Y/N,” Spencer finally said when he’d regained the composure to do so, “I love you so damn much.”

They talked for hours, well into the night. They had so much to talk about, so much to share with one another.

But the most comforting thought was the knowledge they both could finally begin to heal; as individuals and as one.

•

Twelve Months

It’s ironic how the one year anniversary of the miscarriage was probably the best day yet of their recovery.

The initial conversation Spencer and Y/N had wasn’t the last one. Many more followed. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t have a conversation about it or mention it in some sort of way.

The atmosphere was lighter, their moods brighter, their mental health and relationship in a much better place than it had been.

They often had extended conversations about what they thought their angel baby would’ve been like, who they would’ve looked like. This time it was with less heartache and more wonder.

Spencer had finally admitted something that had been weighing on his mind though he wasn’t sure if he should share it with her. He told her that even though it didn’t go the way they had expected it to, he was thankful and grateful for the time they had had with Peanut.

The miscarriage had tested them and their relationship in ways they couldn’t have ever expected. Somehow, they had made it out of that dark tunnel through to the other side. They’d gotten through it and it had made their relationship stronger.

Even though it had only been a short time they’d had with this baby, it was more than none at all. Y/N had agreed. They had grown as individuals and grown as a couple over the last twelve months.

Other conversations regarding their loss were talked about too. They still wanted kids, they still intended on having them, but they’d decided they weren’t going to actively try.

If it was meant to happen anytime soon, it would happen. If not, that was okay too.

It had been a mutual decision that they wanted to wait while they worked to better themselves and their relationship. They would be parents one day, just not today.

Spencer couldn’t help compare how different things were now than they were a year ago. It seemed finally, they were at peace.

Grief was a strange thing. Sometimes it brought people closer together, other times it pushed them apart. In some cases, it could do both.

Y/N had refused to put the converse away in a closet or a drawer until they were needed.

She once didn’t want to remember, but now she didn’t want to forget. Spencer couldn’t have agreed more.

Now, the baby shoes sat on the dresser in their bedroom on display. It was a reminder of what they lost, but of what was to come. It was a reminder of what they’d been through, but to also remind them not to dwell anymore.

There was no reason to hold on to the pain like they had done for so long. They would always remember, but they’d no longer let it consume them entirely.

There, the baby shoes now sat, in hopes to one day be filled with tiny baby feet.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Fireworks Event - Kiro

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Previous section: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here

Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:

Question 1: Without thinking of any external reasons, if you were to visit the amusement park again, which attraction would Miss Chips want to experience the most?

Option A: Rollercoaster! I think this attraction really alleviates stress.

Option B: Hehehe, the haunted house should be given a name.

Option C: The dessert store! There are so many delicious foods in the amusement park.

Question 2:

Question: To Miss Chips, what is an essential element in a “perfect day”?

Option A: For you to be as romantic as in a fairytale.

Option B: For people to witness the most romantic moment. [no footage found]

[ PART ONE PROLOGUE ]

Time truly passes when one is having fun. In a blink of an eye, the night has already overtaken the sky.

I look at the guide map in my hands, thinking about which attraction should end our itinerary for today’s carnival.

Suddenly, Kiro grabs my hand.

Kiro: Let’s go!

MC: Have you thought of what we’re going to do last?

Kiro: Haven’t we already decided this since a long time ago~

[ Option A: Rollercoaster! I think this attraction really alleviates stress. ]

At night, the tracks of the rollercoaster are full of coloured lights. From afar, it looks like a dream-like track hanging in the sky.

It suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it.

Kiro: This time, we can enjoy the pleasures of the rollercoaster to our heart’s content!

He offers his hand to me, eyes sparkling despite being in the curtain of darkness.

MC: It’s the first time I’m riding a rollercoaster at night!

We’re seated in the last row, gradually climbing towards the peak. Our entire field of vision consists of the night and neon.

Kiro: MC, do you know about the legend related to rollercoasters?

MC: Do you create stories that quickly? We just sat on it.

Kiro: Nonsense, I was already thinking about it when we were in the queue!

MC: ...

Kiro: ...

Kiro suddenly clears his throat, his fingers making twirls in the air in a counterclockwise direction. Then, he lets out a soft “ding” sound.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know about the legend related to rollercoasters?

MC: Pfft.

Cooperating with him, I pretend to look contemplative.

MC: There are sayings related to rollercoasters?

Kiro: Hmph. Not everyone knows about this legend, because it’s only used for rollercoasters at night, and when you’re seated at the last row.

MC: Ah! What else?

Kiro: The rollercoaster will take 55 seconds from the moment it leaves the peak. If you have any wishes you’d like fulfilled, say it silently in your heart, then hold your breath. As long as you can press on till the end, this wish will be fulfilled.

MC: Isn’t the original setting in an elevator?

Kiro: Any similarities are mere coincidences. We’re reaching the peak soon. So? Want to give it a try?

MC: This legend has yet to be put to the test.

Looking at his sparkling eyes, I can’t help but want to tease him.

Kiro: You don’t trust me! But that’s okay, I can prove its success rate to you first.

With this, he closes his eyes, and I have no idea what wish he’s making.

Neon colours fall on his eyelashes, making his side profile look especially handsome.

Kiro: Done.

We’re about to reach the peak. Kiro grips my hand, his face filled with anticipation and eagerness.

Kiro: Let’s go!

MC: Ahh--!

Kiro: Haa... haa...

Kiro is breathing in as much fresh air as he can, and I can’t help but laugh while looking at his flushed face.

MC: You’ve worked hard. From the bottom of my heart, I hope your wish can be fulfilled.

Kiro: Are you secretly laughing at me? Don’t be envious when my wish comes true.

MC: What did you wish for just now?

Kiro: What I wished for...

He turns his eyes to me, then leans downwards slightly such that his face is in front of mine. He closes his eyes gently.

Kiro: I wonder if the intelligent MC can guess what it is.

MC: You’re just being unreasonable!

Kiro: I’m not. Maybe this is the result of my hard work from earlier?

Looking at the person before me who’s pretending to be innocent, I find it quite ticklish.

With a flushed face, I give the corner of his lips a light peck. He seems to have waited for a very long time. Just as I plan to flee, he pulls me back, once again locking me in a trance.

Kiro: Look - I said the legend was effective. You believe it now, don't you?

[ Option B: Hehehe, the haunted house should be given a name. ]

At night, the haunted house looks even more terrifying than usual. The gloomy and cold lights seem to be waiting for challengers to arrive.

Looking at the slightly tense Kiro beside me, it suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it.

Kiro: Miss Chips, let’s go!

MC: Actually, it’s okay even if we don’t go for this...

Kiro: It’s all right.

He pats his chest confidently, pushing his sunglasses down with one hand.

Kiro: This time, I came prepared.

In the narrow, strange and long corridor, Kiro and I walk unhurriedly, following the directions of the arrows.

Kiro: This is the third time we’ve come to a haunted house, isn’t it?

MC: Yup. It seems like we always have memories of running wildly in haunted houses.

Kiro: In that case, let’s walk slowly this time, and slowly enjoy the delights of the haunted house.

Just as he finishes speaking, a bloodied handprint appears on the paper door at the side with a thud.

MC: !

Before I can rally my emotions, continuous streams of ghost-like cries drift from the paper door beside us.

Kiro holds my hand, scanning the surroundings “coldly”---

From an unknown place, Kiro takes out a gigantic white sheet, covering it over us.

Kiro: If we can’t beat then, let’s join them!!

MC: Pfft!

Kiro wraps me in his arms. His breath is at my ear, which gives me an especially ticklish sensation in my heart.

Kiro: See? It’s no longer scary, isn’t it? When we hear sounds, we’ll simply return fire!

Passerby couple: Erm...

Kiro: [ghostly] Mmm...?

Kiro and I turn around at the same time.

Passerby couple: Ahhhh----!!!!!!

After a short silence, I lift up my head, and just so happen to meet Kiro’s lowered gaze.

Kiro: [chuckles] Even though I feel a little bad, but...

We burst into laughter at the same time. The white sheet seems to be a small protective screen, making us the only two people in the entire world, becoming our secret accomplice.

Kiro: I’ve finally found a way to decode the haunted house!

MC: Next time, why don’t we...

Kiro: Be the ghosts!

We complete each others’ sentences as always.

Kiro: This way, it doesn’t feel scary at all.

MC: You’ve got a good method~

Kiro: The method is one aspect of it. The other aspect is because you’re with me. Frightening things will always be frightening, and courage isn’t something that can be added or subtracted.

MC: But won’t you become braver after going through it more often and having more experience?

Kiro: That’s called getting used to it and growing up. It doesn’t mean you’re no longer scared. It’s because there are other things which triumph over the fear.

His voice is very soft, and his eyes turn from the view outside the sheet to me.

Kiro: For example, right now.

MC: It’s all right even if you’re scared. I’m here, and you aren’t alone!

Kiro: In that case, could I come nearer to you?

As he says this, he takes a step closer.

MC: [blushing] The staff would laugh at us if they see this...

Kiro: That’s fine.

His lips are at my ear, bringing with them a smile of someone who has gotten his way.

Kiro: No one will see us.

[ Option C: The dessert store! There are so many delicious foods in the amusement park. ]

At night, the dessert store looks even more well-lit. The adorable decor, together with the colourful neon lights, are reminiscent of the sweetest kiss of a couple.

It suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it.

MC: Doesn't this place require a reservation?

He smiles while talking out two reservation coupons from his pocket, a satisfied look on his face.

Kiro: Hehe. It’s been a long wait, my Miss Chips.

I scan the various limited edition couple desserts on the menu, each one of them looking utterly delicious, as though I can smell their sweet fragrance just from the pictures.

In the end, I decide to pick the dessert which Kiro is recommending whole-heartedly and with great force--

The double lava layer chocolate brownie.

Kiro: Trust me, this is the one. I’ve done a recon before, and found the most premium product from these premium products.

Under his solemn gaze, the double lava layer chocolate brownie is brought to our table.

It looks like a chocolate brownie with some frosting sprinkled on it, and seems to be pretty normal.

Kiro: Give it a try! I haven’t forgotten its taste even till now.

I cut it open gently, and discover that underneath the chocolate exterior, there’s a soft chocolate cake. Chocolate sauce in the centre flows out slowly.

Cutting a small piece carefully, I place it into my mouth.

In a mere instant, my throat, nose, and even the air I inhale, are all sweet.

The strong sweetness sweeps through all my senses. My tongue goes haywire, and it’s as though I'm biting into a hundred macarons at the same time.

Kiro sits opposite me, his eyebrows arching slightly, an insuppressible anticipation and teasing look in his eyes.

He has also prepared a guilty and apologetic look.

I see through it immediately.

MC: Not bad. As expected of your recommendation!

Kiro: Hm?

MC: It’s really delicious.

While saying this, I lift up the fork again, preparing to get another piece.

Kiro: Wait wait wait!

He immediately grabs my hand, his face filled with disbelief. Looking at me, he lowers his head and stares at the “scheme”.

Kiro: The taste is just right?

MC: Yeah, it is. Weren't you the one who recommended it?

Kiro: Well... you’re not wrong.

He looks at the brownie on the table hesitantly. He’s probably guessing that the store had changed its method of preparation, resulting in a different effect.

At this moment, it’s a showdown between Kiro the glutton and reason.

Slowly, he picks up the fork, and brings a small piece into his mouth.

Kiro: [groans] !!!

I immediately grab the lemon water at the side, flushing my ruined taste buds.

Kiro: You...!

His features are scrunched, and I can't help but laugh when I see this.

Kiro: Although I did it somewhat on purpose, you really endured it too well!

MC: Seeing this image before me is worth it hahaha.

Kiro: I’m letting you experience the wrong path I once walked on.

Saying this, he comes over to my side.

Kiro: If I’m at fault, you should have punished me by using the law! Not by killing me with this sickeningly sweet dessert!

MC: If you went down the wrong path, you shouldn’t have let others experience it either!

Kiro: But you’re special. I’ve suffered twice the harm and need treatment.

MC: Mr Kiro, you’re insatiable.

Despite saying this, I don't stop him when he slowly draws closer to me.

Kiro: [chuckles] All I need is a little normal sweetness.

[ PART TWO ]

By the time we return to the vicinity of the castle in the plaza, the fireworks display is about to begin.

Considering Kiro’s special situation, his wig and props have more or less finished serving their function. I decide to find a location with fewer people.

But suddenly...

I realise that Kiro is gone.

Scanning my surroundings, I just can’t find any trace of him.

??: Beautiful Miss Princess, what are you looking at?

I freeze.

As the fireworks from the castle continuously scuttle to the skies, I see a figure at the end of the light.

At the top of the castle, he’s wearing a white coloured suit. His white cape is flying in the night, and an exquisite white mask conceals his entire face.

Just like the phantom thief under the moonlight.

Passerby: Is that a performance?

MC: Ki-!

Akin to magic, he soars downwards, stepping through the night, his cape kneading the moonlight as it flaps up and down, descending before me.

Wearing a pair of white gloves, he reaches out and places his forefinger on my lips.

Kiro: Shh.

The entire world seems to have become silent in an instant, leaving behind only the sound of my violently beating heart.

He takes half a step back, his left hand behind him, giving me a slight bow while offering his right hand to me.

Kiro: Beautiful Miss Princess, are you willing to come with me?

A pair of sapphire-like eyes hide behind the mask, leaving me unable to see his expression.

Seeing the arm he’s holding out in mid-air, I grip his hand without hesitation.

MC: It would be my honour!

Once the words leave my lips, he wraps an arm around my waist and carries me up, bringing me into the deep blue ocean.

Kiro: Hold me tight.

He presses a special mechanism, and strings pull the both of us upwards, as though we’re treading on moonlight.

When we reach the roof of the castle, he lets me step onto the bricks steadily, then removes the mask from his face.

Kiro: The performance has begun.

He snaps his fingers. At the same time, all the fireworks in the night sky bloom.

[ FIREWORKS ]

The colour I had selected is especially brilliant, and it blooms under Kiro’s command.

It’s as though he's standing in the middle of the stage, and every firework is a musical instrument under his control. With his guidance, they become the most beautiful musical composition in the night sky.

I think about that question related to a perfect day, and a him who is as romantic as in a fairytale.

As the fireworks come to an end, he once again gives me a bow, and walks towards me.

Kiro: I wish to ask my princess if the me of right now has the qualifications to steal your heart?

MC: [blushing] Haven’t you already stolen it since a long time ago?

Kiro: Is that so?

Under the moonlight of this winter day, his fringe is damp with sweat, and his eyes are filled with surprise.

Kiro: In that case, I won’t be returning it. Anyway, my heart happens to be with you too. Happy third anniversary, my Miss Chips.

Even the most precious day has to come to an end.

But the meaning residing in the future, which is the time we have next, will definitely be even more wonderful, and even more precious.

Until the end of life.

MC: Let’s go home!

Kiro: Mm! Let’s go home.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro

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harrysgloves · 5 years ago

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Let Your Hair Down (chapter xxix)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 1,815

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: Harry’s in over his head.

warnings: Language // mentions of injuries // suicidal ideation // suicidal thoughts // panic attacks // I think like a smidge of ptsd too

a/n: This is a heavy one. The MC needs a real big hug. Tomorrow is the last one! Get ready for the end. xx

>>><<<

It had been 4 days.

4 days since you left the comfort of your room. You laid curled up on your side in your childhood bed, Thea snuggled up next to you. Silent tears falling from your eyes every time you caught a glimpse of her cheek.

Your life had managed to go to hell in the last 4 days.

Day number 2 you tried to leave your parents house, go back to normal life. The second you walked out the door a panic attack hit you so bad you couldn't breathe, your vision blackening. Your parents forced you to go back to the hospital to make sure your brain wasn't bleeding.

It wasn't.

You just can't leave your room without freaking out. All those people staring at your face. Knowing you'd gotten the shit beat out of you.

The pity and judgement in their eyes. It was too much.

The doctors recommended therapy and medication.

You refused saying you would be fine.

But as you laid in bed on night number 3, staring up at your ceiling. You wondered why you even bothered anymore.

It took 3 days for the pictures of your face to leak on the internet and 20 minutes afterwards for you to delete every social media platform you were on.

The comments were the worst things you'd ever read but not as bad as the things you were saying to yourself.

It only confirmed the fact you were a shit mom.

Thea would be better off without you.

She brought you food every day that your mom would send in with her but you mostly ended up eating plain crackers. Your stomach was too upset to force anything else down. Thea sat on the side of the bed as she forced you to eat. Not leaving until you did. She didn't understand. And why should she? She was too young to get the things going on in your head.

You told her you felt like the color blue, rolling over on your other side after choking down some crackers for the 3rd day in a row. Her small body hugging against your back as she whispered,

Me too.

Day 5 had to be your worst. You finally worked up enough courage to look at your face in the mirror.

But you wished you hadn't.

Heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach as your one open eye took in all the damage done. Almost your entire forehead was black and purple. Your left eye was completely swollen shut. The splint you had to have on your nose in order to breathe definitely wasn't the best but the part that made you break down?

The stitches running from your forehead down through your left eyebrow. You'd have a permanent scar there for the rest of your life.

And every time you'd look in the mirror from this day on you'd be reminded of all the things you'd done wrong.

You screamed how worthless you were to your reflection. Throwing all the bottles of lotion and beauty products off the counter. Nothing would ever be beautiful to you again.

You sank to the floor, arms holding yourself as you cried. Your swollen face pressed hard against the cool tile as you let it all out. Gasping for air through your mouth, screaming incoherent things as your hand beat on the floor until you broke open the wounds on your hands again.

You wished he would have killed you.

Your dad broke the door down to get to you. Thea crying into your mom's shoulder on the other side and you wished you would have cared, but you didn't. You didn't care about anything, yourself, living, even her being upset.

She'd be better off without you around to do this to her. She'd be happier with your parents, maybe even Mitch and Sarah could take her.

Your dad carried you to your bed. Laying you down, brushing the hair out of your face as you tried to push him away.

It'd be easier if you just pushed them all away.

He shushed you. Humming the song he sang to you so many times as a kid. Not leaving the bed until you'd successfully cried yourself to sleep.

When you woke later that night you laid perfectly still in your place. The side of your bed filled with someone else who wasn't Thea. You sighed, not wanting to talk.

"Please leave." You whispered softly. Hands curled under your head.

"Not happening. Sorry." He said from behind you. His hand touching your back, making you flinch. You moved away from him, cringing at the other side of the bed. Tears falling down your cheek.

"Your parents called me over. We're all really worried." He sighed, hand retreating back to his own side of the bed.

"Don't be, Mitch. I'm fine." You tried your best to hold in your tears but you couldn't anymore. You weren't fine and you couldn't even lie about it anymore.

A sob leaving you as you buried your head in your mattress. Hands clutching onto the sheets as your tears soaked them.

"Please, talk to me." You ignored him, you didn't want to talk. You wanted your brain to just shut off.

"If not me then at least Harry. You know Thea called him today? He heard you in the background when your dad pulled you out of your bathroom. It's killing him to not check on you guys."

"I'm sorry." You mumbled out, voice muffled by your bed spread.

If you were being honest, you weren't sure what you were apologizing for. Maybe it was for not talking to anyone about this. Maybe it was about ignoring all the warning signs. Or worrying everyone around.

Or maybe it was because you laid in bed every night coming up with a way to leave everything behind.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He sighed, arm wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest.

And this time you let him touch you. Let him comfort you. It wouldn't matter eventually anyways.

Harry showed up the next morning before you woke up. He sat on the end of your bed. His hands in his lap as he stared at all the pictures you had from your high school years on your wall.

You sat up, clutching onto your knees, your head resting on the top of them as you looked at him. You wished you would have felt something. Even a small fraction of what you felt before when you looked at him would have been nice.

But you didn't feel anything. Not a damn thing. You were so numb and you couldn't tell if that was worse or better than before.

"Always forget how close y'and Mitch are. Always seems like y'and Sarah are closer." He said when you shifted your weight in bed. The springs giving away the fact you were up.

"It was always me and him in high school. I didn't really do the whole friend thing." You sighed, eyes darting away from his back to the pictures on your walls.

You used to be so happy.

"Yeh, y'dad told me." He didn't turn around to look at you still. His hands fumbled and twisted around the rings on his fingers as he stared so intensely at his lap.

You didn't say anything. The quiet wrapped around you so tightly it was suffocating. And whatever was left of your already broken heart was completely crushed looking at him like this.

"Harry, we need to talk." You whispered out so quietly. Wishing you didn't have to do this to him.

"Don't 'ave to. Already know what y'gonna say." He sighed, shoulders slumping forward.

Your one open eye filled with tears, biting your lip, and looking away from his back. You knew it would hurt but not this much.

"I brought this fo' ya." He said, standing up and pulling out the drawing Thea did that used to be hung up on your fridge.

Your brows furrowed as your bandaged hands took the piece of paper from him. Eyes taking in the smiling faces on the stick figures of the three of you.

"Why?" You asked, fingers running over the raised up area of green crayon that was used for Harry's hair.

"When I look at that y'know what I see?" He asked, sitting back down on the bed beside you, leaning over to get a look at the picture again.

You shook your head, having no idea where the hell he was going with this.

"My family."

His words broke you. Tears falling from your eye, soaking the picture in your hands. His arms wrapped around you instantly and you didn't fight it. Didn't flinch. Fell completely into his comfort, hand grasping his shirt.

"I'm so sorry." You cried. Head buried into his shirt.

"Y'got nothin' to be sorry fo'." He sighed, hand running through your hair. "I know y'need some time and some space but I'll always be here fo' y'and Thea."

"I know." You said, starting to calm down, sitting up from him and wiping the tears from your face. Wishing you could erase the last week from your memory. Wishing it never happened.

You just wanted to be happy again, like you were with him.

His hand coming up to gently run across your swollen eye. Over the deep sewn up cut over your eyebrow. Down your cheek and wiping away the tears you'd miss. His eyes taking in all the damage but eventually focusing on your lips.

"I love you." He sighed, his fingers running across your bottom lip, not looking at you. Your eye closed at his touch. Leaning in slightly to him.

The sound of knocking on the door made you look up. Thea peaking her head around the corner as she slowly opened it. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry as she peered in to check on you. It was soul crushing to see her so concerned about you.

Harry waved his hand for her to come over. Her feet carrying her quickly over to him, arms hugging around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap.

"I miss you." She cried into his shoulder. His hand running through her hair as he told her he missed her too.

You laid your head on his chest. Your arms wrapping around both of them. Harry's free arm pulled you in tightly to his side as Thea turned to look at you, her eyes filled with tears.

You promised yourself right then that you'd get help, never wanting to do this to her again. She needed her mom and you needed her.

And him.

"I love you too." You sighed. Your right eye closing as you heard him take in a deep breath.

You might not be together but you'd always love him.

#Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #harry styles x y/n #Harry Styles x fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #mine #LYHD

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caye-otome-translations · 3 years ago

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100 Days Princess Event - Royal Prince Stage Premier End (Translated)

Quick Links:

Events Page

Prologue

Previous: Episode 03

Next: Epilogue

Louis Howard’s Route

Byron Wagner’s Route

Giles Christophe’s Route Premier End Part 01/05

Giles: “And if that’s not enough to convince you to stay…then I want you to grow to love me.”

MC: “...”

As practiced, Giles forcefully grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him.

(It’s okay. Just like we practiced…)

Just as I told myself that, Giles’ gaze on me suddenly burned hot…

MC: “...Mmph…!?”

Our lips met, and the feelings that I was trying to suppress suddenly flowed out of me.

MC: “...Nn…”

I instinctively pushed Giles’ chest away from me and opened my eyes.

(I can’t believe he completely went off script…! But…)

MC: “What are you doing...!”

Giles smiled viciously when I immediately switched back to being a heiress.

Giles: “You’re trying to act so graceful, but you’re just scared deep down.” *Top Left Picture*

Giles: “Is this the first time a man has stolen a kiss from you?” *Top Right Picture*

MC: “...”

Director: “...Cut!”

After a moment of silence, applause bursted from around us.

Director: “That was wonderful! It was a performance that drew me in when I was watching.”

Giles: “It was an honor.”

MC: “...Thank you.”

As I smiled awkwardly, I was relieved that the scene was successful.

(But…)

I glanced at Giles who gave me a mischievous smile.

MC: “...Giles, come over here for a moment.”

Giles: “What is it?”

I took Giles to a place a little away from the crew so we could speak privately.

MC: “Did you do that on purpose...?”

Giles Christophe’s Route Premier End Part 02/05

MC: “Did you do that on purpose...?”

Giles: “Yes, I did.”

MC: “...Why…?”

Giles: “I was upset.”

Giles: “You told me that you were used to the idea of fake kissing...”

(...! That’s why he kissed me…?)

Giles: “And shouldn’t you feel more towards your fiancé...?” *1st Middle Left Picture*

MC: “I guess so…”

I couldn't look at Giles’ face so I looked down at the sandy beach instead.

(Did he really do it to make the scene look better? But...)

(If he says he was upset…then perhaps he was unable to control his emotions.)

My first kiss from the one I love didn't calm me down at all.

...After that day, shooting proceeded normally and I was never able to hear Giles’ true intention behind that kiss.

After a few more days of filming, the drama finally wrapped up.

***

A while after, the drama officially aired...

The crew gathered to celebrate the high audience rating and a party was held.

Cain: “Hey, did you know that your kiss scene is a hot topic now?”

MC: “No, this is my first time hearing anything about it...”

Giles: “What are you talking about?”

Cain: “Well, people are saying that Giles’ forcefulness and MC’s headstrong attitude were good. But...”

Cain: “It looked like a very real performance, so there is a rumor that you two are actually dating.” *1st Middle Right Picture*

(What…?)

Giles: “...That’s interesting.”

Cain: “What’s really going on?”

MC: “What do you mean by that...?”

I gave Giles a side glance…

*princess check*

Giles Christophe’s Route Premier End Part 03/05

Cain: “It looked like a very real performance, so there is a rumor that you two are actually dating.”

(What…?)

Giles: “...That’s interesting.”

Cain: “What’s really going on?”

MC: “What do you mean by that…?”

I gave Giles a side glance.

MC: “...We're not dating.”

Cain: “Well, I thought that was the case.”

Cain: “It's very common for rumors like this to start when two people play the role of lovers.”

Giles: “Yes, if we really portrayed our parts well, it’s only natural.”

Giles: “But enough of that, your glass is empty. Should I pour you another?”

Cain: “Oh, yeah. You go do that.”

I looked away as Giles poured liquor into Cain’s glass.

(Every time I’ve seen Giles since we shot that kiss scene…my heart hurts.)

Whether it’s when I happen to see him in the studio or in the company, or when I see him on TV…

Frustrating feelings always consume my heart.

(But I’m afraid I can’t help it...)

When I looked next to me again, my eyes met Giles’.

Giles: “MC?”

MC: “...I’m fine, I was just thinking about getting some outside air.”

(I need to cool my head a little…)

Standing up from my spot, I left the restaurant with a hot face.

***

(To escape Giles, I walked a long way.)

As I sat on the bench and looked up at the night sky, a tall shadow casted over my face.

Giles: “...How did you wind up in a place like this?” *2nd Middle Left Picture*

MC: “Giles…”

Giles: “It's dangerous for a woman to go out alone late at night.” *2nd Middle Right Picture*

Giles: “If you’re drunk, should I take you home?”

Giles extended his hand out to me.

(Hadn’t he said something similar at the previous party...?)

-flashback-

Giles: “MC, do you want me to help take you home?”

-flashback ends-

At that time, I had refused because I was afraid of starting a scandal.

(If I take his hand now…will anything be different?)

(I know we must not do it to ruin our future...)

As he looked into my worried eyes, I spoke.

MC: “Can I ask you to do that...?”

Giles Christophe Premier End (4/5)

I took a deep breath as I grabbed Giles’ hand and looked up.

Giles: “Are you really okay with me doing this?”

MC: “Yes. ...I want you to take me home, Giles.”

Giles frowned slightly when I spoke clearly.

Giles: “You talk as if it’s something you are sure that you want…”

Giles: “But what if I didn’t take you home like a proper gentleman should?” *3rd Middle Left Picture*

MC: “...Okay. I would regret it if Giles treated me badly.”

Giles: “...Alright, I will take you home.”

As I stood up, Giles’ eyes looked at me as if he was searching for something.

***

We entered my house through the front door and shut it behind us.

At that moment, Giles pinned me against the wall.

Giles: “...MC, when are you going to stop hiding your feelings for me?” *3rd Middle Right Picture*

His quiet voice rang in my ears as he moved up close to me, and the more suffocated I felt the faster my heart pounded.

MC: “Did Giles...give up?”

Giles: “You were hiding them first, so I just decided to play along.”

Giles: “Did you really think we were both afraid of scandal…?”

MC: “...I had always assumed Giles was just worried about the same thing as me.”

(But…I don’t think I can keep hiding my feelings anymore, either.)

It seemed that Giles, who looked at me with an annoyed expression, felt the same way.

Giles: “No, I just didn’t want to rush you.”

Giles: “You weren’t always very clear with how you felt towards me. But...”

Stroking my hair, Giles’ hands were gentle as he spoke.

Giles: “I also didn't want your feelings for me to disappear before you even had a chance to tell me.”

Giles: “So I admit that I tried to pull some childish tricks here and there.”

MC: “What do you mean…?”

The corners of Giles’ lips lifted up mischievously as he cupped my cheeks with his hands that had just been stroking my hair.

Giles: “Do you remember what you had asked me before?”

GIles: “Why I became a news anchor?”

MC: “Wasn’t that the question I asked you when we were practicing our acting...?”

Giles: “Yes.”

-flashback-

Giles: “Actually, there’s another reason why I became a news anchor.”

MC: “Is that so?”

Giles: “Yes. ...But that’s a secret.”

-flashback ends-

Giles: “I told you that there was another reason why I became a news anchor…”

*princess check*

Giles Christophe’s Route Premier End Part 05/05

Giles: “I told you that there was another reason why I became a news anchor…”

Giles: “It’s because I knew you always watched that specific news program every week.”

(What…?)

MC: “But you said you were asked by the producer to be on the program…”

Giles: “That’s true. But I accepted it because of the good opportunity it gave me.”

Giles: “It would make you see more of me, since we rarely see each other outside of co-starring in the drama...”

MC: “...!”

(So that’s why Giles decided to appear as a news anchor on the news program I always watch?)

(It wasn’t just a coincidence, he actually did it because of me…?)

Now knowing how Giles’ felt about me with this unexpected fact, my cheeks grew hot.

Giles: “I wish you knew how much I struggle to control my feelings for you.”

Giles: “I had been hoping all this time that I could draw out your feelings from you…”

MC: “I wish I had brought out my feelings sooner…”

When I looked up, Giles smiled softly.

Giles: “I’ve already long decided I wouldn’t mind being in a scandal with you.” *Bottom Left Picture*

Giles: “That’s why I have been waiting for you to catch up to me.”

MC: “Giles…”

(So I hadn’t misunderstood his feelings for me after all…)

(He’s really kept me in mind up until now...)

My heart was full of love, and I gently spoke.

MC: “...I’m sorry. I made Giles wait for so long.”

Giles: “MC…?”

(Now that I’ve heard Giles’ put his feelings into words…)

(I can’t hold back my own feelings anymore.)

A natural smile spread across my face as I put my hand on top of Giles’ larger one.

MC: “I’ve always loved Giles.”

MC: “Whenever I think of Giles, my heart hurts…the kiss scene wasn’t enough to satisfy me.”

Giles: “...I finally got to hear you say it.”

Giles wrapped his arms around me tightly, and his face approached mine…

MC: “...Mm…”

Our lips touched as he grabbed my wrists.

Giles deepened the kiss, pressing me up against the wall.

MC: “Mm...Ha…”

(...It feels completely different from when we kissed in front of a camera…)

When he pushed the tip of his tongue inside my mouth, I couldn’t think of anything else as wet sounds echoed. Finally, our lips parted.

MC: “Ah…”

Giles: “If I was asked to do another kiss scene with you next time we act together…”

Giles: “I don't think I’ll be able to just act with you.”

MC: “You’re right…I don’t think we will be getting away from the rumors anytime soon either.”

(I’m sure we will face a ton more problems together before we can be recognized by the public. But…)

MC: “Still…will you go out with me?”

When I asked that, Giles smiled and placed his forehead on top of mine.

Giles: “Of course.”

Giles: “I don’t think I’m capable of suppressing my feelings for you anymore.” *Bottom Right Picture*

This time, I looked back at his gaze without turning away.

I had a good feeling about the both of our futures starting from now on...

#midnight cinderella #100 days princess #event #giles christophe #royal prince stage #premier end #otome #translation #gill christophe

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voorbeees · 4 years ago

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Hello, I have finished the 3rd chapter of dad jesse au. you can read it here or here

Jesse is...put straightforward, fucking exhausted. He knows he's not getting any younger but fuck. Time can allow him one small morsel of relaxation. The separation of work and hobby has always been exceptionally easy for him to manage. During the day he's able to keep composure and do things that furthers his company's success. Meanwhile at night he's always able to release that built up pressure. That second part has been just a teeny bit harder for him to accomplish lately. Especially when Tilly will just not go the fuck to sleep.

Lately it seems she's made a conscious effort to avoid bedtime at any cost. Tonight it seems the urge is even stronger. Jesse can't talk, which is probably for the best. If he could he would be shouting swears and yelling and he really doesn't like the mental image of the young girl cowering from him. Unfortunately that means he also can't read bedtime stories, something that seemed to crush Tilly when she learned of it. Jesse had felt so bad about the whole thing that he'd had Spann record herself reading a child's book just so he could play it at night for her. It isn't the same but she seems to accept it.

Tonight they both sit on the couch. Jesse in black sweats and a black tank top, a far cry from his typical blue-collar fashion. Tilly wears the new pajamas she got recently. They're red and have teeny horses on them (one of her most recent obsessions). Jesse can't even remember what movie they're watching. He thinks it's about cats, but it's hard to tell when all the colors from the animation keep blending the fuck together every time his eye starts to cross from exhaustion.

Tilly sits beside him, seemingly content to ignore the movie altogether. (So why the fuck is he trying to make the conscious effort to watch it.) She hums as she trades out her red marker for her green one. Another of her new hobbies seems to be coloring in Jesse's blank tattoos anytime she gets the chance. So much for just enjoying the black ink. Thank God his suit conceals it until all of the marker wears off.

Jesse let's out a deep sigh just as he's about to finally fall sleep when he realizes Tilly has put down her marker. He hopes to God this means she's ready to go to bed but a quick glance proves wrong. Her eyes are glued to the screen where she watches one of the cats playing the piano. (Honestly who made this movie? Cats playing pianos, ha! And why the hell is that what he's concerned with right now.)

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the left. There's a brief hesitation to his movement but he works against it. Jesse taps her on the shoulder and the small girl looks up at him with those big eyes. He's still trying to keep signing as simple as possible but he also doesn't want to rely on the phone for communication. He mimicks playing a piano like on the TV and then points at her.

Tilly's tiny face scrunches up in confusion. Of course nothing could be that simple. Jesse repeats the action, this time slower. It takes her a minute but he thinks she's finally got it.

"I can't play the piano." Her tiny voice squeaks out and no it seems she still doesn't understand.

He repeats the action again. Piano and then pointing to her. Jesse gives her a minute and watches as she pieces it together. Tilly's face lights up with a massive smile as she looks up at him. She jumps up, grabbing his arm and shaking it. "I wanna learn to play it! I wanna learn to play it!" Almost immediately after though her face falls and she stops jumping. "But we don't have a piano ."

Jesse shakes his head and stands, motioning for her to follow. "But we don't have one...do we?" Tilly trails along beside him expecting an answer but receiving none, at least until he opens the door to a room she's never really paid attention to before. Her face lights up and she darts inside but Jesse stays at the threshold. He feels his chest start to constrict. The room itself is unexceptional save for the marble that decorates the floor and its white walls. Well that and the piano that sits inside. It's entirely unspectacular but the sentimental value it caries feels like its strangling him.

Back in Jacksonville he had bought the piano and fixed up one of the rooms in his mansion there. Sure he knows how to play it but it was mainly purchased for his wife. Jesse can only remember her playing it a handful of times though. More often than not she coerced him into playing it while she either sat beside him or danced lazily with a glass of wine in her hand. It was a dead memory now and he couldn't help the way it made him feel nauseous. (Would she still want him to play for her now? His facial features altered from all the reconstructive surgeries.)

When he'd moved to LA, Jesse had packed the piano and had it transported to the new mansion. His wife was never in this room or this house, but he'd made an effort to replicate the room the piano once occupied. The only thing that remained of his wife's attachment to the object was a framed photograph of her he'd placed on one of the small side tables in the room. Other than that she was entirely gone, out of his grasp.

The sound of piano keys smashing has Jesse's memories crashing and burning. He's abruptly brought back to reality. His good eye sees Tilly's tiny hands dragging across the instrument but her attention is short lived. She let's out a gasp. "Who's this!" The little girl rushes toward the photo of his wife and pulls it off the table to inspect it. There's no ill intent behind her movement but Jesse's moving before he can ground himself. He marches in and yanks the picture frame from her hands, his good eye boring a hole into her very form. A silent: don't fucking do that again, hangs in the air.

"I -I'm sorry." Tilly shrinks in on herself. She clutches her hands near her chest, almost like she's afraid they'll get her into trouble. Her bottom lip quivers and Jesse catches sight of the tears threatening to spill from her green eyes.

Jesus what the fuck is wrong with him. Here he is clutching to the photo and offering more protection to it than he actually did his wife when she needed him. Jesse takes a breath and exhales shakily before he hands the frame to her.

Tilly watches him for a moment before she snatches the item almost how a wild dog would snatch food from a hand. The woman in it is smiling and it's a headshot. It almost makes her wonder if it were for the lady's job. Her blonde hair is cut to just above her shoulders and diamond earrings decorate her earlobes. The matching necklace lays against her clavicle. "Who is she?" She looks back to Jesse.

He really needed to teach her more sign. It would be easier than his current plan, which is to retrieve a pad and pen from the corner desk and write. When he does turn the paper to her, his scribbly cursive has written one word. Wife.

"You're married?!" Her tiny head wipes back and forth as if she's trying to decipher where the woman is hiding at in the room. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her brows knit as her lip pouts. This whole time she could have had a mother figure but he chose not to tell her. "Where is she?!" Tilly almost regrets that question instantly when she sees the way Jesse flinches ever so slightly. Oh no. That's not good. Did she upset him? Is he going to be mad at her? He's never punished her (unless you count not being able to watch a movie as punishment) but that doesn't mean that he won't or couldn't do it, right? Tilly blinks with a tiny furrowed brow as she looks up at him. "She isn't here, is she?" Her voice is probably the lowest Jesse has ever heard it but judging by the way he looks at her, Tilly knows the answer. Now she desperately wants to ask what happened. Did she leave? Did he leave her? No, that didn't seem right judging by his posture. Her little eyes go wide at the prospect that something else could have happened. Oh no. That would explain the sadness. She's stuck in that loop of thought until she sees the note pad in front of her again.

Do you still want to play the piano? Jesse feels like he already knows the answer to this question. His main goal is to change the subject, and just as he thought, he's met with an aggressive head nod. He grins (if it can even be described as that on his disfigured face) and his shoulders jump with a silent laugh. He makes his way over to the instrument and motions for Tilly to follow.

Jesse lifts her with no issue and places her on the small bench sitting in front of the piano and then sits beside her. Already he can practically feel her vibrating with excitement. It makes him vaguely think about how he can't remember the last time he felt like that. The thought is cut abruptly short as a loud THWANK echoes in the empty room. He makes a face and jabs a pinky in his ear, almost like he's testing to make sure his hearing is still working. Jesus Christ he needs to put more things in here so it isn't so loud.

A nervous smile decorates the girl's face. "Sorry." It's followed by a nervous laugh. Somehow Jesse can't help thinking he's going to regret showing and teaching her the piano. Goodbye peace and quiet.

He exhales and intertwines his fingers before popping them. From the corner of his good eye he sees Tilly doing the same and matching his expression. God, at this moment she could ask him to burn the mansion down and he would. Oh no, that wasn't good, was it? Fuck. She really did have him wrapped around her finger.

Jesse takes precise care when he starts showing her where to place her hands. This is another time being mute has fucked him over. It's kind of hard to teach someone to play the piano when you can't explain the sound or which key makes it. He makes a mental note. If Tilly ends up seeming to have an interest in it, then he'll just get a teacher. It's not really the same, but she'll get the knowledge out of it that she wants.

He focuses back on the currently reality. Tilly watches as his forefinger and thumb press several keys and it makes a melody. She blinks as she watches his other hand and fingers begin to find their rhythm, each seeming to press a different key. She glances down at her own small hand. That may be a little harder for her. Although she was pretty positive that Jesse had the biggest hands she'd ever seen. Maybe that's why he was able to play so well. Tilly continues to watch, her eyes darting between him and his hands. Was it even harder with one eye? She wanted to ask but something told her that probably wasn't the best idea. Instead she settled for listening to the melody and leaning her head against his arm. It had to be the most soothing melody she'd ever heard.

Glancing down, Jesse couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back. A simple lesson seemed to be having a drowsy effect on her. Opposite of what the goal was, but fuck, if she was going to finally go to sleep, he was more than happy with that. A few more moments he played the song until he ended it on a soft key. Another glance proved him right.

Finally.

God, if he had known this would make her sleep, then he'd have done it to begin with. Jesse sits there for a minute. He observes the room. It doesn't feel the way it used to. Maybe actually coming in here had done that. He wasn't sure. Maybe he'd let Tilly decorate it in her odd little way. There's no point in keeping the past alive anymore when it's dead.

He sighs and scoops her into his arms as he stands.

"Can we play the piano again sometime?" He glances down to see her little eyes cracked open. Jesse nods and she sighs happily, returning to sleep. "I like the piano." He can't really say what comes over him, but yea, he thinks he's starting to like the piano again.

#okay to reblog i guess #voorbeees writes

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seokiloquy · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can - Nishinoya Yuu

AU: Penpal / Travel

Warning: Manga Spoilers

Word Count: 7.6k+

How could he not have fallen in love with (Y/N) back then? The foreign transfer student that regaled stories of her adventures around the world with swinging arm movements and an indistinguishable accent that had been muddled over years of travel. She was a sun among stars. A linguistic animal lover that had a passion for learning and adventure. No one could resist her charm, not for long. She was expressive, loud and boisterous. But when given the chance, the outgoing girl will always sit quietly and listen with a kind smile on her face. How could anyone not want to know her?

It was nearing the end of March in 2014 when they last saw each other. Despite it being the beginning of spring, the sun was shooting down warm golden rays of light that (Y/N) happily bathed in. Nishinoya sat next to the excitable girl, looking at the various pins she had stuck into her worn down and faded hat, tired after years of travelling and use. It was spunky, out there, it suited her quite well. In her hand, she fiddled with a keychain that he had just given her moments prior. A small enamel volleyball that he had a duplicate of.

“I’m going to travel the world,” she said, leaning back against the stairs of the gym.

The graduation ceremony was long. Despite that, the volleyball team had gathered in their gym to send off the 3rd years, announcing Yamaguchi as the new captain, and making everyone cry. The 1st years were the worst, only getting to spend one year with their beloved elders.

Nishinoya smiled, stretching his legs along the steps to lay down beside her. “Where are you going to go first?”

She hummed, “I think I’ll go to Australia, I want the accent back.”

Nishinoya laughed and watched as the traveller held up the chain to her nose.

“I want to meet as many people as I can, get some new experiences,” she sighed before shooting up from her spot, nearly launching herself on top of Nishinoya’s relaxed position. Her eyes seemed to be twinkling as they looked into his, “I’m going to write you letters.”

How could he say no to that smile?

For three years they sent letters back and forth. Occasionally sending a care package, typically coming from (Y/N), who always seemed to have money to spare for the best quality of shipping. Nishinoya was always eager to open her letters. The words on the page would dance in his mind, creating beautiful images of the girl he remembered as she continued her travels. He would feel his heart squeeze with every package, carrying various treats and pictures for him to enjoy. Nishinoya always wanted to travel despite never having the funds to do so. Because of this, he lived vicariously through his long time crush’s adventures, holding every gift he received close to his heart.

He saved every last picture, letter, and gift. Yearning for when he would find the next one sitting snugly in the mailbox of his family home in Miyagi. 3 years since the day they graduated they had been exchanging letters, and 4 months since he last heard from his (Y/N), who had suddenly stopped. 4 months he waited.

Nishinoya waited desperately for her next reply, but it never came. Leaving him anxious for months as his family tried to calm him down. Nothing worked. Nishinoya spent most of his free time walled up in his room, ducked under the covers of his childhood bed, waiting.

It wasn’t until his grandfather, Mineo, knocked on his door that something happened.

It was the 2nd of July 2017 at 3:28pm.

“Eh, Yuu, there’s something in the mail for ya,” the old man teased, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Running out of his room, nearly knocking over his laughing elderly grandfather, the youngest Nishinoya ran out of his house, through the gates and to the mailbox. From the corner of his eye, he could see the mailman down the street. Inside the box was a neatly packaged envelope. He pulled it out gently, trying his best not to fold or mark the clean paper.

Once at the dinner table, family surrounding all sides, excitedly waiting for the boy to open the letter, Nishinoya let out a deep breath. His heart was pounding, gripping onto his ribcage like a prisoner wanting to escape. His hands shook, making the paper let out a desperate fluttering sound. He read the front of the paper.

The letter was sent from Australia. Particularly a city named Mutitjulu, which he didn’t bother to try and pronounce as even in his head, the English word seemed to only be a muffle of sounds. English wasn’t something he was good at anyway. He continued, staring at his name that was scripted on the front in a familiar style. One that he’s been reading for years.

“Well, what are you waiting for Yuu? Open it,” his mother pressured. She was excited too, tired of her son’s heaving and hawing over the past four months.

Taking in another wavering breath, Yuu opened the envelope gently and pulled out the crisp piece of paper. As he opened it, a wad of cash fell out, sprawling across the table his family sat at.

His grandfather laughed, “What is this? Some sort of ransom?”

“You’re not given money when you get a ransom note, let Yuu read the letter first,” His father chuckled as he watched his wife gather the money in a neat stack also grabbing the stiff paper ticket that had landed before her.

The first thing on the page was the date, followed by (Y/N)’s handwriting.

14 August 2014

Dear Yuu,

Australia feels like a home I wasn’t born into. It’s hot and my hair hate’s the humidity, but it’s a beautiful country. The accent makes it all worth it. While writing this, I sit at the bottom of one of Australia’s many sites, Uluru, a giant rock that would make you look like a worm in comparison. There are flies everywhere, and we’re painting stones in dotted patterns. I painted a lizard.

I’ve spent the last week in the outback with a group of born Australian’s working with Kangaroos. They are the funniest creatures, easily aggravated in the wild, but these ones have become used to humans over the years.

A man named Joshua has become my companion for the week. He’s taught me a lot, I can’t say it all in a singular letter, but here’s a funny story. One kangaroo, lovingly named Swipe, stole his hat on a particularly hot day, hiding it somewhere we never found. I had to give him my hat. When you see him, please, ask for it back, I miss it and will have more pins to add later.

Oh right, the money and the ticket. Well, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I wanted it to be a surprise. By the time you get this letter, it should be about mid-summer of 2017. You know how you’ve always wanted to travel the world? Well, I’m picking out your stops. You won’t be able to contact me, that eliminates the fun out of it. But, that’s your mission.

Come and catch me~

Love,

(Y/N)

Nishinoya had to give it to her, Kangaroos were soft. And even in the heat of the Australian winter, he desperately wanted to snuggle up to them and bury his head into their chests. He had jokingly told Joshua that he wanted to be a joey in his next life, to which the Australian born man laughed and slapped his back.

It seemed as though, despite (Y/N)’s appearance in Mutitjulu having been 3 years prior to his arrival, that she had planned out his whole trip. Getting Joshua to walk him through every landmark and location in Australia that she had visited on her solo trip.

He was a tall man, tanned to a golden ochre colour from his days working under the blistering sun, and you could tell he did hard physical labour from his well built physique. Nishinoya would stare at him occasionally, mostly jealous of his overwhelming height.

The two men were visiting the Sydney Zoo, watching a gigantic alligator eat a whole chicken when Nishinoya asked the older man a question in broken English. He still needed practice.

“Did you help plan everything?” he asked referring to his tour around the continent.

The Aussie shook his head, making his messed up sandy coloured hair bounce. Turning away from the reptilian show, the tanned man looked at Nishinoya with a large smile.

“She did it all herself. Every last detail. You wouldn’t believe it when she told me her plan, she was going to burst!”

Leaving their suitcases at various hotels over the 3 month period and grabbing the bare minimum so they could trek through the day felt new to Nishinoya. He had spent his whole life in one location, only ever needing to carry around a bag or two wherever he went. Joshua carried around a leather satchel everywhere. At every location they stopped at he would reach into it and pull out a photo that (Y/N) had taken while there, handing over to Nishinoya.

“Keep it, I’ve made copies,” he said when Nishinoya tried to give them back.

Noya bought a photo album after that, carefully storing the photos in the slots that were available. He would flip through the pages until late when the birds started singing. The late nights staring at your photos led to beautiful dreams of hiking through forests and petting koalas together, holding hands and watching the sunset. He wanted that. Minus the gigantic spiders.

It was at the end of September when Joshua barged into Nishinoya’s room early in the morning and threw something at him.

“Oi! Get up, get packed. You got more than just a plane to catch.”

Noya, still tired from a long night of drinking — likely being Joshua’s way of sending him off — groggily grabbed at whatever had been bounced off his head. He rubbed his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light that Joshua had so graciously invited in beyond the curtains.

Groaning, Yuu turned his attention away from the bright sun and onto what laid in his hand. A familiar hat, worn out and covered with pins, it’s original colour faded into a dull grey. Next to it, a letter. His spine shot into a straight position as his fingers gently separated the lip of the envelope from its body as quickly as possible. Just like the one before, money, plane ticket and a letter. A noise in the corner of the room caught his attention, Joshua was stuffing Noya’s clothes haphazardly into his suitcases, throwing a change of clothes to the side for him to wear.

“Get changed Cobber, we got to go!”

Joshua steered the tourist onto his plane, not letting Noya take a detailed look at the ticket. At the gate to the airport, Nishinoya was pulled into a strong hug by the Aussie, who rambled into the shorter man’s ear about how he would miss his foreign wisdom and poorly constructed sentences (which had improved over the months).

Before he knew it, Nishinoya was on a plane, reading the note you had sent back for him.

21 February 2015

Dear Yuu,

You like dogs, right? Well, I sure hope you do. I’ve spent the last few weeks in Yukon, Canada (specifically Whitehorse) and HOLY! It is freezing up here in the wintertime. Luckily the group I’ve been working with provides the proper gear you need but still, it’s frigid. So be ready for that. Margaret will help you out. That’s not actually her name, but she says her real name is too hard for us to pronounce.

Anyway, dog sledding. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it. It’s such a freeing feeling. Oh, and I might have given one of them the keychain you gave me. I’m sorry, but he was so sweet and I wanted to give him something of mine. His name is Mateus. Be sure to give him pets for me!

Make sure to spend that money well~

Love you,

(Y/N)

Although October wasn’t technically winter, the northern hemisphere was cold, too cold. Bundled up in thick layers, covered from head to toe, Nishinoya laid back in the tall snow, rubbing the bellies of eager huskies that rolled around next to him. Yuu laughed and one jumped at him, pushing his shoulder back into the snow and licking any visible skin he could reach.

“Ya! Mateus, please!” The dog backed off, sitting in the man’s lap, panting happily.

Nishinoya sat up, petting the friendly dog’s head with his thick glove. His other hand moved the collar so he could admire the given jewelry. The metal had oxidized, making it look brown and blue. The volleyball has definitely looked better but Nishinoya wouldn’t complain. The dog whimpered at his new human friend as he played with the chain.

Noya looked the husky in the eyes, “Awe, I miss her too bud.”

The dog whined again and pushed his head up against Noya’s hand. He obliged to the canines request, rubbing the space behind his ears. The dog lolled his head to the side, then let his body completely fall over Noya’s lap. The other’s came closer, joining the lazy dog puddle that made itself home around their new companion.

“If you keep letting them do that they’ll never let you leave.”

Margaret was a kind woman, older and a bit worn after years of working. She was ruff around the edges but as soon as she got a good look at Noya’s photo album (which now also held (Y/N)’s letters) she swept the young man into a bone-crushing hug, telling him about the memories she had from years prior. Noya listened to every story earnestly.

“She’s a natural,” she said. “Hopped onto the sled, grabbed the reins and off she went! Over the hills through the trees and the wolves listened to her every command.”

Margaret’s movements were a shadow of the girl he remembered. Large and unapologetic. He took a sip from his hot chocolate as he watched the woman’s arms wing in fluid motions. The fire that was lit next to them cast a shadow behind her, like a puppet. Other volunteers around the lodge watched in awe as she continued telling her of (Y/N). Just how did she manage to make everyone fall in love with her, would there be any room in her heart for him? Everywhere she went she seemed to take someone with her and Yuu couldn’t help but think he’d be left out. It nagged at him.

On the last day of his stay in Whitehorse, Margaret sat down next to Nishinoya and handed him a neatly wrapped pile.

“You know, I sometimes wondered why (Y/N) asked me to make duplicates of her photos. But after spending these past couple of months with you, I can understand it. You’ve got yourself a keeper.”

At the bottom of the pile of photos was the letter, sent back to Margaret from his next location. The woman patted his shoulder.

“You better pack up soon, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

3 September 2015

Dear Yuu,

I know the cold must have been ruff. Haha, get it? Ruff? Well, don’t worry, cause where you’re going next it’s all summer and sun (with the occasional thunderstorm but a little rain never hurt anybody).

The Florida keys are hot. I’ve been spending a lot of time either at the beach or indoors where it’s airconditioned, but It’s been a lot of fun relaxing in the sun here. I found a restaurant, tucked in behind the white fences of a narrow road just by the waterfront. It has a large sign saying “CASTAWAY” I think it’s fitting with the whole nautical theme. It has high ceilings and gives off a wood cabin by the lake sort of feel. All the workers are nice, I’m writing this while talking with them.

I recommend the honeybuns!

Love,

(Y/N)

The honey buns were delicious. They weren’t even something you had to order, but Nishinoya did anyway, every single time. Joe, the owner, along with his wife busted the bar table that Nishinoya sat at. He was the only one in there at the moment flipping through his photo album, adjusting all the photos in place, making them look orderly. Without looking, he reached for one of the many bread buns that sat in the woven basket next to him.

“You know Noya, there’s more food other than the honey buns,” Joe chuckled as he snatched the bun filled basket out of the grasp of Noya’s clingy hands, making said boy pout. Joe laughed again before slipping a laminated piece of paper his way, “Read the menu kid, you might find something worthwhile.”

Joe, despite his outward appearance being that of a beer drinking food lover (which he was), was an avid deep sea diver. Often going with Miranda to collect underwater treasures that could be used as decor for their restaurant.

Nishinoya nodded, thanking the kind man as he began to read. The words gave him a bit of a headache. English, definitely something he’s improved on since beginning his journey but still makes him run circles in his head. He rested his chin on the counter, squinting, hoping the change in sight would magically turn the English into Japanese. It did not, and after 5 minutes of continuous grumbling, Miranda came his way.

“Noya, sweetheart, take a look at the drinks would ya?” she laughed, towel and plate in one hand, flicking the back of the page with a long spindly finger from the other.

He flipped the page over.

The (Y/N) Special

“What is this?” he asked pointing to the only spot on the page that had kanji characters mixed in with the English alphabet.

Miranda smiled, leaning her elbows onto the counter. Flicking a chummy finger toward the page she explained, “That right there, is a drink (Y/N) made up on one of the nights she was here. She jumped over the counter and made us all one, then gave us the recipe for later.”

Joe came their way with a cheeky smile, “Give it a go. It’s got a bit of alcohol in it but not a lot, fine for a midday drink.”

Yuu gladly took the drink created and named after his beloved adventurer and gave it a big gulp. It was cold and sweet with a bit of lemon, perfect for the everlasting hot weather in Florida. He could imagine lounging at the beach or by a pool with (Y/N) sleeping peacefully by his side as he drank this, both of them soaking in the sun’s warmth. Noya sighed happily, resting his head in the palm of his hand.

“Hang in there kid. I don’t think there’s that much alcohol,” Joe teased as he flicked Nishinoya’s forehead. “Don’t go dozing off just yet, we’ve got your next letter.”

Noya didn’t even realize that Miranda had left, only just seeing her as she came back out from the restaurant’s back with a box in hand.

The pictures were of her in various places, just like all the others. Now mostly at the beach or at his current location. He didn’t hold himself back from admiring the images of your summer glow as you posed happily for the camera in your bathing suit. One image of your face stuffed with honey buns make him cackle outright. At the bottom of the box was a small corral and your note.

18 June 2016

Dear Yuu,

Oh YUU~ please don’t be mad at me! I know you probably wanted to see me first out of all our friends but I couldn’t help myself. Brazil was already on my list and where else would I go besides Rio de Janeiro?

Hinata has grown so much since high school, you’ve got to see him play. You should be proud of your Kohai, he’s gotten pretty amazing~ His roommate, Pedro, was really nice too he likes OnePiece and Spiral Knights. Reminds me of Kenma a bit. They were both kind enough to accommodate me for my stay. Oh, Oikawa showed up too.

Be sure to give Hinata a hug for me~

Love (Oh so very much),

(Y/N)

Had they still been in high school, Hinata would’ve probably blabbered about everything upon Nishinoya’s arrival. But, as you had said, Hinata had grown and thus, he learned some restraint. Managing to respect the wishes of his travelling upperclassman who insisted that he kept a tight lip about everything until Noya had begun his travels in Rio.

Noya, on the other hand, was rather discouraged that his past teammate had gotten to spend months with his girl. His girl? His girl. He grumbled, crossing his arms with a haughty huff.

Nishinoya had arrived in Rio in February of 2018, getting the chance to hear all of Hinata’s stories from the beginning of his appearance in the hot city. Heitor, Hinata’s teammate for a tournament they played a couple of months prior, listened carefully to Hinata’s ramblings as he switched back and forth between languages, translating as much as he could. Nishinoya also often found himself admiring Heitor’s coiling hair. A complete opposite texture from his own. (Y/N)’s appearance seemed to be news to Brazilian man as well, but both listened with rapt attention as the carrot head rambled.

Noya got really pouty when his friend showed him the pictures though, mostly fixating on the one that had Oikawa, Hinata, and (Y/N) all making strange faces at the camera.

“Shoyo, must you torture me like this?”

Hinata only responded with a large smile and wiggling dance.

Heitor and Pedro had become Nishinoya’s closest companions after Hinata left for Japan. Nice, Heitor’s newlywed wife, reminded him of Saeko, making her his go-to whenever he needed to rant to someone. She never understood a word he said, but would always give him a pat on the back and a warm smile. Luckily, Pedro had managed to pick up some Japanese during his time living with Hinata, making the learning curve of figuring out Portuguese a little easier.

At the near 3 month mark of his stay in Rio, Pedro came out of his room with a box that had Nishinoya’s name printed across it. “It. Yours,” he tried to say with heavily accented Japanese, which the streaked blonde man was thankful for.

The name across the top had obviously been done by Hinata, the messy script made it that evident, not that Noya could easily read it anyways. Just like the others, the box held a few remaining photos that Hinata didn’t give him during their time together and her letter. The envelope had a small crease in the top corner, likely from Hinata’s rough handling, but he was eager to read it despite its mediocre condition.

Pedro sat down next to Nishinoya, taking hold of the photo album, and offered to put them in order. Before he did though, he took his time flipping through the pages, listening to Nishinoya as he tried to explain what was happening in each photograph. Pedro smiled.

“I spoke to her quite often, she learned Portuguese rather quickly, I was surprised,” he paused for a moment, watching the memory that played in his mind from the photo he had taken of you and Hinata playing volleyball on the beach. “She is quite an amazing person.”

Despite not being able to fully understand what Pedro had said, Nishinoya could hear his feelings.

Why did she have to be so magnetic that even a near stranger felt her gravitational pull?

With an almost sad sigh, he gave Pedro a nudge and began to read the letter. It was filled with glitter. That was new.

31 December 2016

Dear Yuu,

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I might be a bit tipsy but that’s okay! I’ll write this anyway.

New years in France is filled with alcohol. I shouldn’t be surprised but the wine is surprisingly sweet? And you know me, I can’t restrain myself when it comes to sweets.

Paris is beautiful by the way. I can’t wait for you to see it. Danon has been an amazing tour guild. He even gives me a discount on the coffee from his family’s café. Despite being in the more expensive part of town the café is rather quaint. When his parents are out Donon lets me choose the music, it’s typically 70’s dance and pop music, like ABBA. Who am I kidding, It’s mostly ABBA. Sometimes other customers join me in dancing, Danon can’t because he works but I see him grooving behind the counter. I think I made it a tradition.

Ooh, I also made another friend, her name’s Brielle, she's just lovely.

It’s beautiful here Yuu~

Love you loads.

(Y/N)

Was Nishinoya jealous when he met Danon? HELL YES HE WAS. The man was their age, and undeniably handsome, clean quaffed brown hair and perfect skin. Nishinoya spent his first few days in Paris giving the other man the side-eye.

That’s how it was, until one Friday evening, when Nishinoya walked into the café he was stopped frozen at the door.

“Ah Noya, my friend! Come join us!” Danon called over the music once he saw the shorter man enter.

In the Frenchman’s arms twirled a beautiful young woman with dark skin and braided hair that swung at the middle of her back. ABBA was playing, Noya noticed as he entered, weaving through the dancing couples of men and women alike. Danon and the woman met him halfway, and Danon, being the gentleman he is, bowed slightly as he gestured to her.

“This is Brielle. I’m sure (Y/N) must have mentioned her in her letter.”

Brielle laughed, waving her hand dismissively, “The two of us only got a moment together, a week at most. But she did talk about you Nishinoya. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

They spoke in English, with French accents, but Noya was thankful for the familiarity, although it did make him notice his own mangled accent even more.

“So what’s happening here?”

Danon laughed, “It’s (Y/N)’s night! What else?!”

The day slowly turned to night and the Eiffel tower began to glow outside the window. Nishinoya tried his best to dance in the sensual duets that took place in the middle of the floor, but more often than not, he went behind the counter, taking Danon’s parent’s place and giving them a chance to take centre stage. Out of the pairs, his parents were the most infectious. But anyone could look Danon’s way and see that he and Brielle were a match made for the night lights of Paris.

Towards the end of May, Nishinoya sat at one of the tables next to the chalk wall, sipping slowly at his tea. Danon came out from the back, giving his mother a rub on the shoulder before sitting across from the Japanese tourist. He placed a clean stack of images on the table between them. Before pointing to the chalk wall with a melancholic smile.

“She wrote you a message up there, ‘see you soon’, she said that a lot about you,” the taller man slid over the stack.

Noya slowly flipped through the photos, pausing at one that captured a moment of Danon holding (Y/N) in his arms as they danced, being perfectly framed by the Eiffel tower behind them. Noya gripped the photo a little tighter. His heart clawed at his insides again. That nagging feeling was back, making the palms of his hands feel sore and warm. Danon’s voice pulled him out of it easily, the man was a siren.

“She is a remarkable woman. If I had the same opportunity that you have right now,” he trailed off, pausing to take a breath, “I would follow her off the edge of the world if she asked me,” Danon took the photo out of Noya’s hands, giving it a fleeting look before tucking it into the album that rested open on the table.

Gulping, Noya met the man’s eyes across the table.

“Aren’t you with Brielle?”

Danon smiled, “I am. (Y/N) introduced us. Brielle knows of my infatuation but trusts me and I can’t thank her more for it.”

“You two are beautiful together,” Noya said, looking up at your name on the wall. He took another long, slow sip of his tea.

“As will the both of you. If you manage to catch her that is.” Danon spoke softly, joining his new friend in staring at their crush’s smooth writing on the wall. “Can you do me a favour, Noya?”

Nishinoya hummed, continuing to look up.

“Love her for the both of us, okay?”

8 May 2017

Dear Yuu,

A kind old man was nice enough to let me spend most of my time with him and his dog at their home in Hamburg, Germany. He’s a potato farmer! But sadly he injured his back working, what a spine breaker. Anyway, I offered my help farming in exchange for a warm bed and food. He was happy to help! Oh right, his name is Adal. He’s a bit of a grouch but I know he’s secretly a softy.

I managed to get to a few places around Germany before settling down there for the rest of the trip though. My favourite by far is the torn down Berlin wall. It’s covered in graffiti and art and it’s just filled with so much history. It’s overwhelming but seeing the broken wall is just such a beautiful sight. I don’t even think I can put it into words.

Don’t let Adal be too mean to you~

Love,

(Y/N)

Nishinoya knew what you meant by the wall being overwhelming. It felt like he had the memories of generations pushing down on his shoulders all while a swell of happiness and relief seemed to lift his chest upwards. It was a sight to behold.

Adelina was a kind but blunt woman in her 40’s. Their initial interaction was a shocking one that left a bitter taste in both of their mouths. Noya, a stranger that had shown up at Adal’s doorstep that was in the middle of vast farmland was greeted with a less than welcoming hello.

“Is Adal here?”

In broken English, Adelina responded, “Adal is dead. What do you want?”

After explaining his now new predicament to the resilient woman, she had broken into a gasp eyes wide as she rushed up the stairs of the house. She nearly tripped coming back down, holding a box that was covered in dust and set it down on the wood table in the middle of the large room visible from the door.

She had sighed while she blew off the dirt, “You must be Nishinoya, correct?”

Taking his shoes off at the door, he entered the premises. Adelina had gestured for him to take a seat in the chair across from her and the box. Nishinoya was understandably nervous at the time, desperately wanting to bite his nail or crack his cold knuckles, but he resisted.

“Adal was my father, he died last year and left everything to me,” she started. “I only met (Y/N) once but she was a kind woman from what I remember. Managed to break that old man’s shell. Not many can do that,” she laughed, tucking a greying piece of hair behind her ear.

Nishinoya listened to every word patiently. Adelina wasn’t a great storyteller, she often had to cycle back, remembering events that would have been told earlier on, and sounded rather monotone as she recounted them. For what it was worth though, once she got on the right track, she seemed to be able to recall every detail word for word despite the stories not having been from her own experiences.

“I know the plan was for you to work in the field, but I sold off the farmland not too long after he died,” she said, placing a glass of water for him on the table. “If I had thought a little further ahead, I probably would have waited until after your visit,” she scoffed sadly at herself. “I guess my mind was a bit preoccupied.”

“No, no. It’s alright. I’m the one showing up unannounced. You probably didn’t even remember the plan until I showed up.”

That night, Adeline offered to take Nishinoya on a grand tour through Germany.

“I should at least fulfill some duty that I was given, he would want me to,” she said, giving him a rare smile. “Diese Dinge passieren, und das Leben geht weiter.”

Despite having given him most of the pictures in the box on the first night, the letter remained untouched until after spending three months in the woman’s care. At the airport, Adeline thanked Noya for visiting and wished him well.

“Chase your dreams,” she said, sending him off with a final wave.

1 September 2017

Dear Yuu,

Somehow a little town at Italy’s ankle has made me believe that gods exist on earth. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but these architects did an amazing job. The buildings are all colourful and beautiful to admire. Especially during the sunset. The whole town is cast with a warm glow.

I’ve been staying in Sorrento, (imagine if I was writing this from Torino! Haha). A small town by the bay known for its beautiful view of the water and 14th-Century architecture, very picturesque. I spend most of my time down by the bay, I’ve gone so often that I’ve even made friends with some of the fishermen. They even offered to take me spearfishing out in the bay. Their boats are beautiful but on windy days I definitely prefer the land.

Don’t let the marlins get to close, they’ll stab you~

Love you,

(Y/N)

“Eh, Noya! You did great! Let me take a photo for you.”

Donte was a middle-aged man that owned a boat by the pier. Often spending his weekends fishing for marlins to feed his family the following week. His hair was dark brown and mousy, slowly fading to grey at the sides of his hairline that trailed down his jaw into a patchy scruff of a beard that never seemed to grow. Quickly, the ageing man grabbed Noya’s phone off one of the seats in his large fishing boat and angled it to face the other man.

“Say: sorridi!” he cheered.

Noya dropped his borrowed trident like a spear on the tiled concrete and kicked up his left leg onto the large metal cleat at his side and balanced the weight of the large marlin between his arms. The fish’s mouth hung open, but Noya smiled into the camera of his phone, yelling out ‘sorridi’ as the photo was taken.

“Ah good. C’mon, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

It was during lunch when Donte began to entertain Nishinoya with some stories of (Y/N)’s visit. The big one was how we decided on the name of his boat. He explained that at the time, his ship was brand new when she visited, with (Y/N) being the first to book a time to experience marlin fishing on the new vessel. At the time the name hadn’t been printed on the side, and when Donte had mistakenly tripped over a loose line it sent him into the cold water of the bay. Despite being able to swim, the visiting woman had immediately pulled out the rope ladder tying to the side of the ship and dived him.

Donte laughed as he recalled floating in the water with (Y/N) staring at him with an irritated expression. “I can swim you know?” he said, making her grumble and paddle to the ladder she had set up moments prior.

“The water is nice, but you better get out soon,” she had teased. “Don’t want the marlins to attack.”

“Thought that ‘the Mad Mer’ was fitting. She did look like a goddess while swimming after all.”

The description made Noya smile happily.

Donte was starting his next story when Nishinoya felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Asahi had sent him a message.

We’re all meeting up today.

Are you coming?

A cheeky grin pulled on the corner of Noya’s face. Swiping his phone across his screen and clicking, without sending a word to his friend the image was sent.

Woah, Noya!

Are you still following those letters?

Nishinoya chuckled.

You bet!

Donte nodded his head in Noya’s direction and took a large gulp of water and a bit of food from his plate. “Who you talking to?”

“Ah, an old friend. Sent him the picture of the marlin.”

On his final day, after packing up all his clothes, Nishinoya flipped through the new photos he collected. His favourite had been taken on the same day that she had dived into the water to help Donte. It was of (Y/N) in a flowing white dress, arms spread wide open, with the sun setting in the background making her dress glow. This photo closed out the passage of Sorrento, Italy.

30 March 2018

Dear Yuu,

Hazyview is quite the sight. It’s full of green trees and large expanses of grass. Rolling hills turn into mountains with sharp cliffs and rounded tops. It’s a sight you’ve never seen before.

I got to travel around a bit before settling in Hazyview so I could learn about all the languages they speak. It’s so interesting! I swear some of the people I met probably thought I was some foreign nut job, but I had fun

Working at a sanctuary for elephants is such a rewarding experience. I wish I could have stayed a bit longer to help. Luckily they primarily used English to communicate because of all the immigrating volunteers they get, but even the diverse collection of language there was amazing. But that’s not the point. Elephants. Elephants are the point.

We managed to save a baby and his mother from poachers! The little guy was rather clingy, and I got to name him!

Work your hardest~

Love,

(Y/N)

Nishinoya was relieved when he was able to practice his English again with fluent English speakers at the sanctuary. Nearly two years of practice has shown some improvement.

Jabulani was the man that greeted him when the helicopter landed at the sanctuary. His arms were wide open and his smile was big, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“Welcome!” he yelled over the sound of the helicopter’s blades spinning.

It took a couple of days for Nishinoya to get the chance to interact with the large beasts. That time was spent settling in, getting a tour, and learning about the protocol that was held in high regard at the sanctuary (for good reason).

When Jabulani, nicknamed Jabu, introduced Noya to the various elephants that were being rehabilitated he was brought to a pause at one.

“His name is Shino?”

“Ah yes. You’re (Y/N)’s friend. I almost forgot. She talked about you a lot.”

Noya made a large gesture with his arms, throwing them in the warm air. Then he adjusted the old button filled hat on his head to block the sun.

“When (Y/N) said she named a baby Elephant I thought I was going to be small! She named it after me, and he’s that big?!”

Jabu laughed at Noya’s pain. Giving a hard smack on the back. Earning a groan from the slightly saddened man.

“Don’t look at it like that. Think of it this way,” He said as he grabbed Noya’s shoulder, straightening his back. He gestured to the elephant’s trunk that started sprinkling water over its head. “She must think highly of you. Think you can reach great heights like the trunk of an elephant.”

“That height is mediocre when giraffes exist.”

The throwaway comment earned Noya another hard smack.

“Don’t say that around the elephants. They’re sensitive creatures.”

Occasionally, at night when everyone was lounging around the common area, eating food and relaxing, Nishinoya got the chance to listen to Juba and his friends speak in their native tongue. Zulu was something he had never heard prior to coming here, and as he listened to them converse fluidly without tripping over any syllable or sound he couldn’t help but realize why you appreciated the complexities of language so much.

The last letter was short, and when he opened it a picture slipped out. You wore Karasuno’s classic colour; black. You were in a waving salute, your two fingers in the motion of pointing away from your forehead. The back of the black tracksuit was visible thanks to your slightly turned position. You stood on the steps of the volleyball gym, the doors were open. The letter was sent back to Hazyview recently.

9 April 2019

Dear Yuu,

What do you think? The newest job suits me, huh? I managed to race through school while I waited. World Cultures, I’m excited.

See you on the first day of school~

Love,

(Y/N)

April 20th of 2019 was the first day of school. Nishinoya had flown in from Hazyview the night before, greeted by his parents who pestered him about all of his adventures on the way home. Still wide awake with jitters of excitement, Noya rambled about every moment and story, flipping through his nearly complete photo album.

He was wide awake until he wasn’t. Despite his eagerness to wake up early to the following day and hopefully ambush you in the morning before classes started, he managed to sleep through most of the day. When he finally did wake up he was groggy from the jet lag but forced himself to change into something more presentable than plane clothes. Be grabbed your old hat, oxidized keychain and his photo album before rushing out.

Once he got to the front gates he breathed in deeply. It had been years, and the nagging feeling had returned to his chest. Students gave him weird looks as they left the school grounds.

How could he not have fallen in love with you back then? But how could he be so naive to believe he was the only one? He thought of Danon in that moment, letting the words replay in his head. Over and over again. For the both of us.

Taking one last breath, he ran towards the old gym he remembered. The doors were slightly ajar and the welcoming sound of air-filled balls bouncing off the wooden gym floor made his heart race. He screamed as he kicked the doors wide open.

“(Y/N)!”

A high pitch screech followed.

“Noya? What the hell are you doing here?”

Despite the change in hair, now back to his natural black, Ukai hadn’t changed a bit. The squealer, Takeda, held his chest tightly as he stood straight, recovering from the sudden scare. The players on the gym floor began to murmur, they’d ask their coaches questions later.

“Sorry, Takeda, Ukai. Do you know where (Y/N) is?” Noya asked, gripping his belongings tightly. “I thought she was going to be in here.”

Takeda let out a shaky laugh, “You haven’t changed a bit, Noya. But did you maybe consider she’d be in the girl’s gym?”

Ukai sent Takeda a confused look, to which the bespectacled man waved off as if saying ‘I’ll explain later.’

Nishinoya began bouncing on his toes, ready to move. Wearing a smile, he yelled a loud ‘thanks!’ as he bowed, before running out the double doors.

The girl’s gym, though not one he visited in his past often except for those moments he went to see (Y/N), brought a familiar feeling. The sound of balls ricocheting off of solid surfaces greeted him as he stood outside the double doors, waiting, scared.

Then he heard your voice, heavily accented but pronouncing every word with a sense of style with accuracy. Soothing and sharp with a bit of a raspy bite from years of hysterical laughter and yelling.

“Tiny Hinata! Natsu, can you do me a favour real quick?”

Slowly, he pushed the doors open.

Nishinoya didn’t even see the young orange-haired girl lift the old polaroid camera to her face. He was too busy enjoying the old familiar feeling of his girl’s hands holding his back, hardly even hearing the smack of objects fall from his hands and onto the floor. He melted. Noses brushed against each other as she pulled him into a kiss that was worth the years of patient pining. He let out a breathless laugh when she pulled away, letting his head fall back for a moment as she used her hands to lift him back into an upright position. His hand came to rest on her shoulders, massaging them gently to fully know that she was there.

That nagging feeling finally crawled away, chased out by an eruption of warmth in his stomach.

“I finally caught you, (Y/N),” he said, wearing a dopey grin.

“Took you long enough,” she teased, hitting his arm.

Picking up his belongings that he had dropped suddenly, he held the brim of her old hat between his fingers and slipped it onto her head. Back where it belonged.

The photo was a pretty one, fitting perfectly into the last page of his album.

So this onshot comes from a prompt in my writers notebook that I’ve been wanting to write for over a year. And when talking to one of my firends we got really into multiple different idea’s and then dragged Kiwi into it. So this one is sort of collaborated.

I hope you liked it! it’s the longest thing I’ve written so far and it’s about the length of a regular two or three parted story. - Bacon

Posted: 03/07/2020

#Haikyuu x reader #Nishinoya Yuu #nishinoya x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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tcafs08 · 5 years ago

Note

#50 from Fluff/Romance/General-- You're a terrible liar. Any pairing 👀 (Stay safe!!)

Fluff #50 -- “You’re a terrible liar.” Wrote RyoSaku for y’all (also kinda a future fic, but not too far into the future.)

“Game and match, Seigaku’s Echizen! 6-3.”

From the sidelines, Sakuno cheered for her boyfriend as he shook hands with the Yamabuki 3rd year. It was the first game of the season, the first one since he’d been appointed captain, and he had already led Seigaku to a decisive victory. She beamed with pride.

“Amazing,” a reporter muttered from next to her, snapping pictures rapidly. “We’re probably going to see Echizen on the challenger circuits this year, won’t we?”

“Yeah, it would be a waste of his talents if he just stuck to playing in high school,” another reporter agreed. “It’s the perfect time for him to start playing outside Japan.”

At this, Sakuno’s eyes suddenly widened. ‘That’s right…’ she thought to herself in realization. ‘Ryoma’s probably leaving soon…’ She always knew that he had to take his talents elsewhere… but she didn’t think that it’d be so soon. Especially since after crushing hard on him for five years, they’d finally, finally begun dating.

She quietly excused herself from the group to be alone with her thoughts. It was a particularly hot day. After strolling through the grounds for a couple minutes, Sakuno leaned up against a tree trunk, taking refuge in the cooler shade.

Before long, a shadow appeared in front of her. “There you are. I was looking for you, where’d you go?”

She smiled halfheartedly. “Ah, just for a walk.”

He peered down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong.” She forced a cheerful tone in her voice. “You played amazing today, Ryoma-kun.”

He lifted his cap slightly, to get a better read on her face. “You’re a terrible liar, Ryuzaki.”

“I… what?”

He knelt down on the grass. “Talk to me,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Her breath caught, and it took her two tries to get the words out. “I mean… You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” she finally said, fiddling with the bottom of her skirt. To her horror, tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “To achieve your dreams? You can’t do that here.” You can’t do that if you’re stuck here.

He flopped down next to her, resting his head on her thigh. “What do you know about my dreams?” he said, looking up at her face.

His golden gaze held hers, intense and unwavering, and Sakuno felt her face heat up. “Um… to be the best tennis player in the world, right?”

“That’s true…” He hummed, low in his throat, and she felt her heart drop slightly. “But I have a lot of dreams,” he said. He shot her a look, his expression unreadable, before pulling his cap down over his face.

She thought about asking him what that meant, but fear took over and her words died on her lips. Instead, she ran her fingers through his hair and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

A few minutes later, she checked her watch and nearly yelped. “Ryoma-kun, we’re going to be late for the closing ceremony.” She attempted to move her leg, jostling the cap from his face. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Just a little longer,” he mumbled, without opening his eyes. “Just stay with me a little longer.”

Sakuno sighed exasperatedly. They were going to be reprimanded again. He was always getting her in trouble, into some sort of mischief. As responsible as she liked to think she was, he could probably get her to do almost anything.

The thought was both treacherous and hopeful. For him, she’d do almost anything.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Just a little longer.”

#prince of tennis #ryosaku #ryoma x sakuno #prince of tennis drabble #prince of tennis fanfiction #new prince of tennis #Prince of tennis girls #prince of tennis imagine #Ryuzaki Sakuno #ponta pair #echizen ryoma

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 6 years ago

Text

Memories (Part 2)

*Not My Gif*

Post Date: 7-9-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader, Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 3.2 k A/N: Ok, so here’s the thing, Endgame happened but Tony didn’t die. Also I don’t know how this turned out...

Memories Part 1

~Prompt List~

~Master List~

Requests are closed

Tony sat surrounded by his family in his house as he nursed the bottle in his hand, meeting everyone’s eyes but not holding their gaze. He saved the world, he saved the universe but he still felt as if he couldn’t save everyone. Only because he couldn’t save you. Peter was the only one who was close to feeling how he felt, they both loved you. Even if it had been 5 years and 6 months for Tony it had only been 6 months for Peter. Tony made a family, marrying Pepper and having Morgan, but Peter couldn’t do that with you. His eyes met Peter as he nodded towards the door. Peter furrowed his brows before realizing what he met, soon sneaking away from the reunion to follow after Tony.

“I fixed it.” Tony muttered as they made their way to the basement Tony dubbed as his lab. Peter’s pacing stopped when he looked into Tony’s hands, seeing your machine in almost pristine condition. Without Peter saying anything, Tony pressed the button he knew all too well.

“Is this working? Oh my god I did it!”

Peter felt his heart clench as he closed his eyes, taking in the sound of your voice before Tony’s hand landed on his shoulder. He couldn’t handle it, wanted to walk out but your voice some how convinced him to stay. When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but let them dance across your face immediately noticing the upgrades Tony had done in your machine.

“I want her back, Mr. Stark. I need her back.” He mumbled as Tony dropped his head at Peter’s familiar words. He agreed, thinking about how if he was in the room with you he could’ve saved you.

“I want her back too Kid. But we don’t get her back.”

Peter shook his head as your figure disappeared, turning around to look at the man.

“It’s not far! Everyone else came back but not her! Why? Why?!” Peters hand pulled on his hair as he took the machine, quickly making you reappear.

“Pete, if I could bring her back I would! If I could go back I would! If I could-“ Tonys eyes widened as he realized what he could do. Peter heard him stop mid-sentence, facing him as Tony just stared at you.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked as before he was shushed by the man. Tony began pacing in front of Peter, instantly confusing the boy. “Mr. Stark, w-what’s wrong?”

“If I could go back…” He mumbled before meeting Peter’s eyes officially for the first time since Peter entered the room. Peter’s face matched Tony’s as he realized what he meant. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how they got the stones, and he was all for getting you back. “I’m going back.”

“I’m going with you.” Peter yelled as he followed Tony up the steps back to the living room before Tony stopped, turning to push Peter gently back down the stairs as he shook his head.

“No can do kid. I can’t take you with me. This is to important.” He argues before seeing Peter not standing down. He sighed in defeat before pushing past him, pulling out a trunk he had stored years ago after he came back from space. Tony looked at it, eyes watering as his fingers trace over the letters engraved on it. Your name. When he finally opened it, Peter and him couldn’t help but let their eyes become glossy as they stared at a picture of you Tony had hung on the lid. “After she died, I started to grab somethings I knew she kept close to herself.” He begun to pull out a few more pictures, quickly looking at them before moving on to a T-shirt of Peter’s, the one you wore in the first memory. Peter chuckled as Tony handed it to him, instantly being in engulfed in your strawberry and cinnamon scent he loved. “I put this in after I lost you too.” Tony said as he pulled a red and black suit out of out the bottom of the trunk.

“She made this?” Peter asked as his hands roamed across the suit. Tony nodded his head before tilting it, looking over at your machine.

“We were working on it together. She uh, she finished a few days before the mission, she wanted to give it to you that weekend.” Tony stopped talking as Peter looked up at him, clearing his throat before patting his back. “Ok, here you have to wear this one until we get there, then you change into her suit. Time to go.”He handed him a white suit before he quickly headed upstairs and left Peter to change as he started to get ready for the jump. He was almost ready, only needing to do a few more things then put his suit on before Steve approached him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, crossing his arms. Tony looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“Something important.”

“You’re going back in time? When?” Tony ignored him as he kept working. Steve took his silence as a go ahead and snoop around gesture and quickly found a picture of you Tony had next to him. “You want to go back and save her.”

Tony froze at Steve’s soft words, unsure of how to avoid the talk of morals. He only grunted as he finished up his chores. Steve’s hand gripped onto Tony’s arm as he tried to hold his attention.

“Tony, you know you can’t do this. Saving her, it will mess up everything.”

“I have to-“

“Tony you can’t-“

“SHE’S MY DAUGHTER! I NEED HER!… I have to.” Steve stopped arguing at Tony’s outburst, knowing there was no way to change his mind. His head dropped as he sighed, hearing footsteps behind him as he turned to see Peter, obviously having heard Tony’s outburst. Tony’s head had fallen into his hands before he put himself back together. “Don’t worry Capsicle, there’s still enough particles for you to return the stones.”

Steve nodded before stepping to the side, allowing Peter and Tony to prep for their jump. “You ready to time travel kid?” He smirked as Peter jumped around, preparing himself for anything. Steve laughed as he watched Peter and Tony disappear a few second later.

Peter was in awe after traveling through the quantum realm, landing outside of a Hydra base. “Woah! Mr. Stark that was so cool! Like that was amazing! I can’t believe we-“

“Calm down Kid before we get caught.” Tony grunted as he looked around the area. Peter nodded as he calmed himself, looking as well as Natasha and Clint took down a few hydra agents while Tony and Peter quickly ducked out of sight. Changing into their suits, they tried to come up with a plan to find you.

“Ok a house full of heroes and I bring underoos.” He moaned as sighed in defeat after Peter 3rd bad idea. Peter couldn’t help but frown until he caught sight of you and your bow jumping over a car and shooting 2 guys.

“Getting pretty good with that bow Y/N!” Clint yelled as you laughed. Peter held a breath as he nudged Tony, pointing over at you as both of them stared in disbelief. You were there, right in front of them and they couldn’t hug you or anything. Peter knew he was crying but he didn’t care, because seeing your smile again in real life was nothing compared to the holograms.

“Getting scared I might be better than you?” You quipped as Clint scoffed, playing with yo has you both took down a few more bad guys.

“As if, Ace!

You laughed at his nickname for you before hearing Steve’s voice in your earpiece, rolling your eyes before following through on his instructions. “Cap’s calling. Learn to keep up, Clint!” You headed inside as Tony felt his heart stop. He knew what was gonna happen next and without thinking he quickly followed you into the building, Peter closely behind as they made it in without being caught. Tony motioned for Peter to stay quiet as they entered the room you were in, seeing you scan through a computer.

You fingers jumped across the keys as you looked through file after file, looking for anything and everything you needed. Your hands finally stopped moving as you found a list of Hydra locations. You celebrated with yourself silently before inserting a flash drive, downloading all necessary files. Tony and Peter kept looking at you before they realized why they came, they needed to save you. Just their luck, Tony looked at the door the moment a hydra soldier came running around the corner, footsteps quiet as they saw you. Your back was towards them as you continued your search. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as they reached for their gun, Peter and Tony quickly jumping out of their hiding spot as Peter shot his webs, locking into the gun as it fell to the ground with a clatter. You quickly turned around and shot an arrow into the soldiers shoulder as he went down with a thud. That’s when you finally took notice of Peter and your dad, staring at you as you grew confused.

“Dad? Pete? What are you guys doing here? I thought you were off this mission.” You shrugged as you placed the arrow back in your quiver. You turned back to the computer to deal with the flash drive as you noticed they had yet to answer. You turned your head, enough to shot them a smile before facing forward, eyes widening as you stood up straight. With in a second you had two arrows loaded in your bow as you point between the two of them. “You’re not them. Who are you?”

Peter quickly shot his hands into the air and Tony put a hand between you two. “No it’s ok, sweetheart. It’s us. It’s us.” You couldn’t help but be confused at his words.

“I don’t believe you. First of all, my dad and Peter both couldn’t be on this mission, second of all, I made that suit. I hadn’t given it to Peter yet. Third of all, you aren’t wearing an earpiece. So I’ll ask you again. Who are you?” You tightened the grip on your bow as you drew back more, causing both of them to freak out a little on the inside.

“Y/N, sweetheart please. Put down the bow and we’ll talk.” Tony pleaded as you glared at him. He closed his eyes before deciding on his next move. “We’re from the future.” He saw your bow slack as you took in his words. “We came to save you.”

You moved your gaze between the two of them before pulling back once more, not falling for any tricks. “Prove it.”

Peter reached out to Tony, gently tapping on his arm before stepping in front of him.

“What am I supposed to do, Nat? I fell in love with my best friend.” Your eyes locked into his as your jaw dropped at his words. Words you uttered barely 2 hours ago.

“How did you?...”

“We got it working. Memories4me. It’s brilliant.” You listened to your dad’s compliment but you couldn’t help but hold Peter’s gaze.

“Right.” You let your arrow fall to the ground along with your gaze as you took in this information. “So time travel’s a thing. I was supposed to die, wasn’t I?” Peter and Tony shared a quick glance before answering you.

“Yes.”

“But now I’m not.”

“Nope.”

“Right.” You bit your lip as you took a step towards them.. You could only nod your head before Peter had a hold on you, wrapping you into his arms faster that you thought possible.

“I-I thought I lost you.” He whispered into you ear as he held you head with one hand, the other around your waist. Without even needing to be told, you threw your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, eyes closed as you comforted him while he sobbed.

“I’m here Pete. I’m here and I promise I won’t leave you, ever again.” You stayed clung to each other for a few more seconds before he pulled away, arm still wrapped around you but his other falling onto your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss. Only to be stopped mere inches away by Tony coughing. Your head fell onto Peter’s shoulder before you looked up at your dad. “Hey Dad.”

He let out a chuckle before your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck. “I missed you sweetheart.” You squeezed him tighter tears falling from both of you before releasing him, face falling as you looked up at him.

“So what now?” You asked as Tony shook his head, answering truthfully.

“I don’t know.”

You grabbed your bow you dropped early as you ran a finger over the feathers on one of your arrows. “I can’t stay here. Other wise I change your future, I could mess everything up.”

“Then, We go home.” Tony said as he smiled at you, you looked at Tony before looking at Peter, who looked just as confused as you. “I took extra supplies. They didn’t find your body.”

Your lips parted as you began to understand a little, you tapped your foot as everyone stayed silent. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

Sucking in a breath and laughing a little you asked her something you never thought you would. “Are you able to make everyone think I died?”

The AI was silent for a few minutes as your stomach sank, feeling like you’ve already lost.

“Are you sure this is what you want Miss Stark?” You looked at the two most important people in your life, standing in front of you as you made up your mind.

“Yes.”

You never felt more happy as your feet hit the ground, standing next to Peter as he held your hand. You looked around, taking in the beautiful nature scenery around you as you landed on Steve. His smile spread onto his face.

“Welcome to the future.” He said as you giggled. Peter and Tony both felt their world was coming back together at the sound. You were here and the future was still in tact. Tony stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your neck as he pulled you into his chest.

“I am never letting you go on anymore missions. Ever.” He leant his head onto the back of yours as took in the feeling, you’ve never imagined you dying would’ve caused your dad to use actual time travel, but you weren’t complaining.

“Y/N? C-could we talk?” Peter whispered as he fiddled with his fingers. You blushed as you realized what this was about. Nodding your head, Tony let you go, changing out of the suit and loving the fact you were back. You and Peter walked off the platform, heading towards the water before stopping. You continued to look at the reflections in the surface as Peter spoke. “So Mr. Stark got memories4me working.” You nodded as he sighed, trying to get you to talk to him before giving up, deciding to just say it. “Y/N, I’m in love with you too. Have been since we uh, we first met. You were so confident, smart, and beautiful and I was scared. You became my best friend and I wanted more but didn’t know how to tell you. I regretted not telling you everyday and I didn’t want to go one more day without you know that I’m in lov-“ his words were cut off when you pressed your lips against his, him kissing back almost right away. You knew you were crying but it didn’t matter as his tongue dragged across your bottom lip asking for permission which you quickly accepted. His hands gripped your waist as yours rested on his shoulders, deepening the kiss when one moved to his jaw and cheek. You felt lighter than air when you pulled apart to breath, regretting it almost instantly when your lips weren’t hitting his.

“I fell in love with my best friend. I travelled 5 years into the future where I’m supposed to be dead. …and all I can think about is kissing you again.” You giggles once again as Peter smiled, leaning in to peck your lips before pulling you in for a hug.

“Come on, you got people to see again, and people to meet.” He pulled you into the house where everyone was laughing, only to turn silent when you entered.

“Ace?” Clint spoke first, standing up as he moved his son off his lap. No one believed you were here, think it was some kind of trick but once Tony and Peter told them what they did they quickly pulled you in for a hug.

“You guys aren’t mad that I’m…here?” Everyone shook their head no at the question, causing you to sigh in relief before grabbing Peter’s hand. “Good. I’m glad because I don’t think I could leave you guys, Not after hearing what happened the first time.” You spent the next few minutes as everyone took in your sight before heading down stairs to your dads lab with him and Peter.

“So you got it working. Even better holograms I see.” You grinned as you pressed the button, the machine spitting out an image of you as you couldn’t help but cringe at how you looked in Peter’s shirt, having not slept for a few days.

As if reading your mind, Peter’s hand found yours. “You look as beautiful then as you do now. But I like this way better, because then I can actually do this.” He pulled you in for a kiss as Tony chuckled, trying not to watch you and Peter but loving the fact that you were here.

“Ok ok. That’s enough, she’s my daughter. Try to share her.” Tony said as Peter blushed. You playfully hit your dad as Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well I guess I’ll leave you two to uh talk.” He stuttered as he walked backwards to the stairs, turning around just in time to hit the first step. You picked up memories4me as your fingers rubbed over the old metal.

“Did you like it?” He nodded at your whispering before pulling you close to him.

“I love it.” He kissed the top of your head before setting the machine down on the table. “Although I think it might need a new name.” You agreed, pulling out a piece of paper and brainstorming several different ideas before settling on the right one.

You set up the machine to record as the green light went on before you started talking.

Hi, this is Y/N Stark and this is my dad, Tony Stark, also known as the greatest dad in the world. No, the universe. And this is the little machine that saved my life. We had a name for it. Something weird and different that was just to awkward, so we decided to keep it simple, name it what it is. This is My Memories.

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