#I’m fiiiiiine I’m so normal about this show I promise

[fulcrum-art-fox]

Do you ever think about “what the thread has tied together, no one can separate” and think about how they’ve spent doubly as much time apart as they ever did together and go a little bit insane?

[svnflowervol666]

Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Now (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Their first Christmas as a family of four. Underwhelming gifts, naughty kitchen counter shenanigans, being suspicious of Santa Claus, baby kissies, oat milk. 

Author’s Note: Baby bub is here! I’ve been so excited to finally be able to write about them, and I’m even more excited that you all get to read about them! This is the second part of my Christmas bits for this year. Unlike the last one, this one is obnoxiously adorable and no where near as upsetting (I really hurt my own feelings with that one). Reblogs, likes, tags, and feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated! If you don’t see me before the year is up, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! Enjoy, take care, and tpwk.

“Two.”

“No. One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Four.”

“Now that’s just bein’ greedy,” Harry spoke in a wounded tone with his brows furrowed together as if he were genuinely offended.

“But if Santa’s coming tonight and bringing more presents, why can’t I open these ones right now?”

Tallulah was on her knees in front of the sofa, fingers laced together with her chin resting on top of them. She was quite literally begging her father, who sat above her with one leg crossed over the other and an arm slung around his wife, to allow her to open the gifts that were prematurely nestled underneath the festive fir tree in their living room. Well, they weren’t married yet, but Harry couldn’t help that he preferred how the word felt rolling off of his tongue than “fiance.”

“Because they’re Christmas presents,” he stressed.

“Makes no sense t’ open them the day before.”

His freshly six-year-old daughter clearly didn’t like that answer - the pouty jut on her lip and subsequent huff told Harry all he needed to know.

“I already told ya, sweet pea. You can open one tonight. That’s it. The rest are for tomorrow.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the small girl said, although it was implied in her tone that it very much was not.

Tallulah hobbled over to the tree whilst still on her knees, and began riffling through the small litter of perfectly wrapped boxes to inspect which one would elicit the most satisfaction on her end. She seemed keen on a rather large one, decorated with tartan print and a red gift tag that read, “To: Lulah, From: Daddy & Mummy.” What she hadn’t realized, though, was that Harry had already made the selection for her. 

“Not tha’ one,” Harry reprimanded over the steaming mug of coffee in the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles on Y/N’s shoulder.

He typically strayed away from caffeine this late in the evening, but he knew he was in for a long night of waiting up until Tallulah was fast asleep so he could take on the role of Santa and deliver all of the gifts he had promised her for being good enough to make an appearance on the Nice List. Knowing how much shit he had packed in his office that stayed locked this time of year, he really wasn’t sure how he was going to do it successfully.

Another exasperated sigh left his eldest child’s lips, to which she replied, “But this one’s the biggest.”

“But it’s not the one we want yeh t’ open, Lulah. ‘S the one with polar bears on it,” Harry stated, though not with full confidence.

“It is the one with polar bears on it, right?” he whispered to Y/N.

This earned a laugh from Y/N, who muttered a quiet, “Yes,” in return. She laid her head in the crook of Harry’s neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body. He smelled like cinnamon and the nutmeg-flavored coffee beans he’d ground up just a few minutes before, and maybe a hint like baby barf.

Tallulah scavenged the space under the tree like a predator hunting its prey - all on the lookout for the present fitting the description Harry had given her. Harry and Y/N found themselves thoroughly entertained by watching her overturn almost every gift, and shared a similar giggle when she narrowed in on the box in question before letting out a victorious, “Aha!” into the room only lit by a firelog in the chimney.

“Grab the one for Olive too, please. Don’t want her feelin’ left out,” Harry called out to Talulah. 

“Okay, daddy!”

Her small arms stretched to the limit, trying to grab both packages without toppling over onto the others. Tallulah noted that they both felt the exact same underneath the wrapping paper, only her baby sister’s was much smaller than the one addressed to her.

“They feel like clothes,” Tallulah stated matter-of-factly as she took back her place on the floor with both presents in hand.

Harry sighed, leaning down to rest his mug near his feet against the sofa.

“Good grief. Just open it, will yeh?”

She needed no further instruction. Her fingers dug into the paper, piercing it with her nails and ruining the pastel blue parchment that was covered in dozens of cartoon polar bears partaking in various yoga poses. When Tallulah was able to tear the gift away from its wrapping, her hands grasped something soft.

“It’s....pajamas.”

Her tone was flat and unamused. Harry sensed her disappointment, though in his heart he certainly felt like he’d done a great job concocting his plan to have her open this particular gift on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah, but they’re Christmas pajamas. Don’t yeh want t’ look nice when Santa comes to visit tonight?”

This seemed to...disturb Tallulah. That was really the only way to describe how she looked at her dad - with her eyebrows scrunched up and her normally-plush lips pressed together in a thin line.

“...He’s gonna come in my room when I’m sleeping?”

Y/N hadn’t meant to, but a loud cackle erupted from her chest, which jostled the four-month-old baby girl that had the beginnings of sleepiness settling into her body. In contrast to the laugh from Y/N, Olive let out the tiniest of shrills, obviously upset that her mother had interupted the peacefulness she’d felt whilst being curled up against her chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubby,” Y/N cooed quitely, quickly moving to pat her daughter’s bum and comfort her.

“Mummy didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to the sparse tufts of hair atop Olive’s head before returning her attention back to Tallulah.

“Lulah, I promise you that Santa will not come in your room while you’re sleeping. What your dad means,” she snuck a glance in Harry’s direction in which he smirked back at her, “Is that you want to look nice on Christmas morning, don’t you? You know Nana’s gonna take a thousand pictures of you and Olive tomorrow, so now you don’t have to change when she gets here, yeah?”

Tallulah nodded, though it didn’t do much to lift her spirits. She fumbled the cream-colored thermal set adorned with gold stars between her fingers, the motion she was always somehow doing whether it be to her dad’s t-shirt while she laid next to him during a movie, Y/N’s lotus pendant when she was smaller and could fit on her chest, or otherwise.

“Plus,” Y/N added, a hint of irony in her voice, “I’d imagine the presents Santa’s going to bring you are much less boring than this.”

They shared a knowing smile, Tallulah’s cheeks growing rosey and her eyes twinkling at the mention of the magical, bearded man.

“I’m offended,” Harry scoffed.

“Really thought those pajamas were proper cute.”

“They are cute, daddy!” Tallulah chimed in, “I like them a lot. Thank you.”

It appeared that the young girl had realized her moping about not receiving the nail polish kit she’d asked for didn’t do her any good. And whether Harry was joking about being upset or not, she’d never want to hurt her dad’s feelings. He’d raised her too kindly to do otherwise.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Harry smiled at her.

“Let’s help Olive open hers, yeah?”

“I bet it’s pajamas,” Tallulah mumbled under her breath.

That earned her a light tug on one of her two braided plaits on her head from Harry. The two of them chuckled at each other, their faces almost looking like identical portraits of each other.

“Humor me for a second then, Lulah. ‘S your sister’s first Christmas.”

Tallulah scoots over on the floor to stand on her knees, this time by Y/N’s legs as she turned Olive around to sit up straight in her lap. Olive, who was once determined to fall asleep right there on the couch beside her mum and dad, was now awake and had taken an interest in the crinkling sound of the wrapping paper on the gift her big sister placed on top of her chunky thighs.

“Here, Livvy,” Tallulah cooed, “You tear it like this.”

She tried to show Olive how to tear away the present by ripping it halfway open, but her effort proved to be unsuccessful the second Olive managed to get her fingers around a scrap of paper and immediately placed it in her mouth. It appeared that Olive was much more interested in the gift wrap than she was her early Christmas present.

“Well, there goes that,” Harry said as he fetched the then soggy parchment from his infant daughter’s lips, making somewhat of a disgusted face as he wiped the excess drool on the leg of his pants.

Tallulah takes the honor of opening Olive’s present for her, and is unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when her eyes meet a set of thermal pajamas like the ones she’d just received herself, only Olive’s were green with tiny, silver stars. She’d parted her lips to make an undoubtedly flippant comment, but Harry cut her off before she even had the chance to mutter the first syllable.

“Don’t do it, stink head,” Harry quipped, reaching for the discarded paper that was scattered on the rug beneath him so he could put it in the bin later.

“How about you go put on your lovely new pajamas so we can get everything set up f’ Santa to come, alright?”

“Okayyyyyy,” the small girl grumbled before snatching the thermal set from the floor and darting off to her room.

“That didn’t really go the way I hoped,” Harry mumbled as he reached over to take Olive from Y/N.

“It’s Christmas, baby,” Y/N reminded him.

“Kids want toys, not pajamas.”

“Yeah but,” Harry focused his attention at worming the tight-fitting pajamas up his baby girl’s abnormally chubby legs.

“’S what mum used t’ do for us when we were little. Always got pajamas on Christmas Eve. Figured it’d be nice t’ do it for the girls, too.”

“It is sweet, Harry. Just wouldn’t expect a six-year-old to be that enthused about it,” Y/N snickered.

Harry hummed in agreement, his tongue poked out as he fed Olive’s arm into the tight sleeve of her top, struggling a bit to get her balled up fist through the other side.

“Ahh, there we go. Thank god ya only have t’ wear these tomorrow, Chunk. They’ll be too snug by next week.”

“Leave my fat baby alone,” Y/N scolded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being well fed,” she added, leaning over to lightly pinch on her daughter’s round tummy in an attempt to get her to smile at her.

A gummy grin took over Olive’s features at the sight of her mother, a true mummy’s girl at heart. She was much like Tallulah in many ways, but so different at the same time. Olive was still nearly bald, whereas Tallulah’s hair grew like a sprout when she was Olive’s age. Tallulah had always been teeny tiny, no doubt due to her premature birth, and Olive clearly made up in weight for what Tallulah lacked when she was a baby. They both loved cuddles with Harry and listening to the sound of his voice as they fell asleep, but it always puzzled him when Olive didn’t respond to some of his antics in the way that Tallulah had. 

“‘M not bein’ mean. I’d jump on the chance to suck on your tits all day if I could, too.”

“Har-” Y/N began to reprimand him about how she can’t say that because there are little ears in the room, but was stopped short.

“I’m back! Can we set out the cookies now?”

Tallulah breathed heavily as if she just sprinted a marathon into the living room. 

“Sure can,” Harry responded.

“Come tell Livvy good night first, though. Mummy’s gotta feed her and put her t’ bed.”

She smiled at the mention of her little sister, whom she was always keeping at an arm’s reach. If Tallulah was awake, she was in the same room as Olive. It made Harry’s heart ache in the best way to watch the two of them interact with each other. The feeling he felt when he first saw Olive in Tallulah’s arms at the hospital never subsided. He was absolutely besotted for his girls.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite soeur,” Tallulah whispered to Olive, reaching down to hug her sister and kiss the crown of her head, which she happily accepted in the form of weaving her pudgy fingers into Tallulah’s braids and pulling them rather harshly.

Before he handed her off to Y/N to be fed and put down for the night, he gave Olive a kiss of his own.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite chérie.”

//

“‘How do you know Santa likes oat milk? Did he tell you that? Luna at school told me he likes chocolate almond milk.’ What kinda shit is that?!” Harry exclaimed with a mouth full of sugar cookie and in the quietest voice he could muster.

He’d just spent the last hour with Y/N, silently digging Tallulah’s gifts from Santa out of his office and placing them underneath the tree. Thankfully, he hadn’t tripped over his own feet and woken her up or else he would have cried right there on the spot.

All Y/N could do was giggle back at him from where she sat on top of the counter, bare legs swinging as she had a mouthful of the very same oat milk in question swishing in her mouth.

“She’s asking too many questions n’ I don’t like it one bit.”

“Think she’s just growing up, babe. The magic doesn’t last forever. She’s about at that age. Probably only have one or two more Christmases before she figures it out.”

Harry stared at the remaining half of the frosted cookie Tallulah left for Santa in his palm, eyes quiet and sullen.

“Don’t like that one bit, either,” he muttered.

“I know you don’t, bubby,” Y/N cooed, pulling Harry into her so he stood between her parted legs on the countertop.

“But you’ve still got Olive.”

He seemed to perk up at that, looking up at her through thick lashes with a smirk.

“Just Olive? We stoppin’ there?”

“I mean,” Y/N pursed her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind trying for a boy.”

Harry placed his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

“Might not happen on the first go, though,” he tisked.

“Could take havin’ a few more for that t’ happen. Yeh alright with that?”

“As long as you’re not tired of me by then, then sure,” Y/N jested.

“’M never gonna be tired of you.”

He leaned in close to her, touching his forehead to hers. He was a split second away from kissing her, but then Y/N spoke up again.

“Harry,” she called out.

“Hmm,” Harry’s voice oozed with desire and darkness beginning to turn his eyes a deep shade of juniper.

“Can I please have a bite of your cookie?”

He softly bumped his forehead against hers as they both broke out into a fit of chuckles.

“Allumeuse,” Harry uttered, raising the sickeningly sweet cookie to her lips.

She chewed the baked good tantilizingly slow, making a scene of rolling her eyes back and moaning as if the taste was euphoric.

“Tu aimes ça,” she snided.

“Je fais.”

The two sat in silence after that, finishing up what was left of the small plate of sweets Tallulah had left by the chimney. It wasn’t often that the house was this quiet. Normally, there was a crying Olive to attend to or a needy Tallulah begging for one of them to get more paper out of Harry’s office printer so she could draw pictures of the plants in their garden out back. It would have been eerie, had the multi-colored lights from their Christmas tree not illuminated the majority of their open living space. The twinkling bulbs brought a sense of peacefulness about them. Maybe it was the season, or maybe it was because they’d been feeling so grateful for their small family as of late.

“Honey,” Harry broke the silence.

“What?” she looked up from where she’d been fussing with the hem of her shorts decorated with tiny snowflakes.

“Yeh got a little,” he gestured to her mouth before bringing his thumb to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Harry swiped a rogue dollop of blue frosting that rested there and pressed it onto her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his digit, sucking lightly to remove the sticky icing from his skin. Her eyes met his, not once straying as he applied just the slightest bit more of pressure with his thumb. He noted the way her breathing slowed and how she gently shuddered when he tightened the grip of her jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“So pretty,” he purred, marveling at the sight in front of him.

God, how Harry wished it weren’t just his finger resting on the soft, welcoming warmth of her tongue.

Y/N slid off his thumb with a calculated pop of her lips, licking them to ensure she’d rid herself completely of any stray crumbs.

“Kissy?” she posed, smirking.

“I’d be pretty rotten if I said no,” Harry replied before pressing his mouth against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to stand flush against the counter and even closer to her body. He teased her with this tongue, gliding it along the plush skin of the inside of her lip. Y/N welcomed him and parted her lips enough for Harry to get through. Both of them taste the saccharine remnants of the cookies they’d shared, and soon all that’s heard in the house are the suckling noises and heavy pants coming from Harry and Y/N. It’s not loud enough to be a disturbance, but it’s just enough to have them both yearning for more.

“Talk t’ me, lapine,” Harry broke away from her for long enough to mumble one sentence, still pressed against her lips.

“Tell me what yeh want.”

“Want you,” Y/N said in a shaky exhale, chasing Harry’s mouth to reconnect with her own.

“Yeah?” he taunted.

“Want me right here in the kitchen?”

“Ideally, no. But I wouldn’t stop you.”

She parted her legs even wider, attempting to rut against the thick fabric of Harry’s fleece sweatpants. Her center met something stiff and Harry pulled her even closer by the flesh of both bum cheeks, massaging them with his massive palms in a manner that he knew drove her mad.

“That’d be pretty naughty of us, wouldn’t it? Not sure if Santa would approve of that one.”

Before she’s given a chance to respond, Harry snuck his hand between their thighs and began softly petting Y/N over her shorts. Her head fell back in pleasure, temporarily detaching her lips from Harry’s. She knows she can’t make a single sound or else she’ll wake up the entire house so she just sits there with her brows furrowed, silently gasping and letting these sweet, broken moans spill from her throat that spur Harry on even further.

“Can feel you even through your fuckin’ shorts, Y/N,” he grunted, slowing grinding against his own palm that was the only thing separating him from her heat.

This time, it’s Y/N that reached between them, feeling for the stifness that lies between his legs. She wraps her fingers around him through his sweatpants, leisurely tugging at his cock. Harry’s all but forced to begin sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck to keep himself from crying out at the contact, working at blossoming deep lilac and mulberry colored bruises there.

“Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” he muffles into her collarbone.

Y/N hummed, crossing her legs around Harry’s back as he began to focus his attention to rubbing her clit over the material of her shorts.

“Bet you could too,” she whined.

“’S that what you want, hm? Want me t’ make you cum without even touchin’ you right?”

“‘M not gonna have a choice if you don’t do something else pretty soon.”

She sped up the work she’s doing near Harry’s crotch, paying mind to what she can make of his tip between his boxers. With her thumb, she rubbed expert circles around him, massaging him in the way that he’s doing to her. Both of them could feel it, the slow build up of pressure deep in their abdomen - a coil winding tighter and tight with the threat of snapping.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

He was biting her neck now, completely consumed by the feeling of both the damp patch seeping through Y/N’s shorts and onto his fingers and the precum dripping onto her more delicate ones through his sweatpants.

In an attempt to not embarass himself like a horny teenager, Harry withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and places it around her bum all in the same breath. Y/N sighed defeatedly at the loss of friction against the place she needed it most, dropping her head into Harry’s shoulder and whining rather noisily. Before she even has the chance to curse him for stopping, he scooped her off the counter with all of his strength and began walking both of them to their bedroom so he could fuck her properly.

Their lips detach when Harry drops her onto the bed and a woosh of air leaves the down comforter, causing the hem of Y/N’s top to fly up and expose her tummy. She still wore the deep, almost-metallic stretch marks she’d acquired when she was pregnant with Olive, but it wasn’t with shame. Her and Harry had a talk not that long ago about how much he loved them because it reminded him of how much he cherished watching his baby girl grow before she made her grand, earthside appearance. She’d not mentioned the slightest bit of disdain for them after that.

Just as Harry tugged his jumper over his head and threw it off somewhere that he’d worry about in the morning, his eyes caught the digital clock that rested on the wooden night stand on his side of the bed.

“’S past midnight,” he said with a lopsided grin, climbing on top of the girl he vowed to spend his last dying breath beside.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, for the life of her unable to understand why that was relevant when just minutes ago, he was rutting into her hands and aching for release.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled against her lips.

He pulled up once more to add, “Happy Christmas.”

She had half the mind to smack him, but all she did was shake her head and smile.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Will you please fuck me now?”

“Think I can manage that.”

It was the first of many Christmas presents for Y/N.

[spaced-out-imagines]

The Mentor’s Child (a multi-chapter Shinsou x reader fic)

Next Chapter

warnings: none!

taglist: @lostgirlheart​ @universal-imagines​ @lucio-the-beautiful-goat​ (if you wanted to be added to the taglist just message me!)

A/n: At long last here it is! Sorry for making you guys wait a little longer than what I promised but I wanted to make sure the intro was good. I hope you guys enjoy and continue to support this fic!

You groaned as your alarm went off, flinging your arm out blindly to find your phone. You finally managed to grab it and you brought it to your face, sliding the notification to turn off the alarm. You then threw it beside you and buried your head in your pillow, trying to sleep for just a few more minutes, but before you could one of your dads burst into your room.

“Y/n! Time to get up sweetheart!” Yamada yelled excitedly. You groaned and put your pillow on top of your head, however your father pulled it off a second later.

“Just a few more minutes papaaaa pleeeeease,” you said sleepily. Your blankets were so warm and you didn’t want to leave your little cocoon.

“No can do kiddo, you have to go to school today. Also if I let you fall back asleep you won’t wake up until noon,” he said cheerily. Yamada reached under the covers and pulled you up into a sitting position, ignoring your groans of protest.

“Fiiiiiine. I’m up, I’m up,” you said as you waved your arms a bit to make your papa let go of you.

He did just that and left your room to allow you to get ready for the day. You rubbed your eyes as you got up from your bed, a slight shiver travelling down your spine as your feet touched the cold floor. You walked over to your closet to grab your uniform before tugging off your pajamas and slipping on the outfit. You then went into the bathroom next to your room to brush your teeth and to tame your messy bed hair.

After struggling with your very stubborn hair for a while, you wandered into the kitchen where you were greeted by the sight of one of your dads sitting at the kitchen table and the other bustling around as he finished making breakfast. Aizawa looked up at you as he sipped his coffee, he looked tired but then again he always did.

“Morning,” he said in his usual deadpan tone. Yamada also chirped in with a “good morning!” as he set down the last of the plates onto the kitchen table. 

“Good morning,” you greeted back as you sat down in your usual spot at the table. Yamada sat down right after and all of you all began to eat peacefully, the only sounds to be heard was the clattering of utensils and the occasional chatter from your papa.

As you were finishing up Aizawa suddenly hummed, causing you and Yamada to look up at him. He swallowed the food in his mouth before he looked up at you and said, “I forgot to mention this yesterday, but I need you to meet me at the training grounds after school today.”

“Uh okay sure,” you replied, confused but not too surprised. You would often train with your dad, and while it was uncommon for him to ask you to meet him right after school, you figured he just wanted to get in an extra training session.

He nodded at you in thanks as he got up from his seat to put his dishes away. You and Yamada finished soon after, getting up at the same time and meeting at the sink to quickly wash the dishes together. Yamada hummed as you both worked and you were reminded about how grateful you always felt that your papa could easily fill in an awkward silence.

“Are you gonna be home late today?” You asked when he passed you a plate to dry.

“Afraid so kiddo. Gotta go to the radio station tonight,” he replied as he gave you a sad smile.

You playfully flicked some water into his face causing him to squawk. You chuckled and went back to drying the dishes. “It’s fine papa. I know how busy you can get.”

He gave you a grateful look and said, “I’ll make sure to play some of your favourite songs tonight.” Your eyes lit up at that causing him to laugh.

You finished drying the last of the dishes before you and Yamada went to meet up with Aizawa in the front hall of your house. You all grabbed the things you needed for the day and headed out to the car.

You slipped into the back seat as your dads got into the front, Yamada sat in the driver’s seat while Aizawa settled into the passenger side. Your papa turned on the radio, singing along as he drove. You hummed along faintly, your voice almost drowned out by Yamada’s but not quite. Your papa and you both shared the same love for music, however you were less boisterous than he was. That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t sing along though.

The rest of the ride passed by in a similar manner, you singing along with Yamada as you stared out the window. At one point during the drive Aizawa had fallen asleep, even with the noise. Your dad could sleep through anything if he wanted to, you were sure of it. 

Soon enough you arrived at UA, and Yamada quickly parked the car. You grabbed your bag and jumped out, while Yamada attempted to wake up his sleeping husband. You flatten out your uniform which had gotten rumpled in the car before looking back at your dads. They had just gotten out of the car when you said, “I’m going ahead, I’ll see you guys later.”

“Okay! Hope you have a good day honey!” Yamada called as he grabbed his own bag.

“Make sure you come to the training ground later,” Aizawa reminded you. You simply gave him a thumbs-up as you walked towards the building to go to your classroom and meet up with your friends.

After a few minutes you reached the 1-C classroom and you opened the door before stepping inside. You plopped down into your seat and settled down. Just after you finished taking out your notebooks and materials a body tackled you, almost knocking you and your chair over.

“Heeeeey Y/N!” the person said as she squished your cheek against hers while giggling.

You smiled and patted one of her arms which were wrapped around you. “Hey Kazue,” you replied. Your friend’s smile simply grew even larger as she laughed again.

“Geez Kazue, you need to relax you could have killed them,” another voice said. You looked up as your other friend walked over. Akihiko gently pried Kazue’s arms off you as he stood beside your desk. Kazue scoffed and took her hands back from Akihiko’s grasp. She perched on top of your desk and shared a look with you, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Nah it’s fine Aki. Kazue is just showing how much she loves me.”

“You got that damn right,” she said as you two high-fived without looking away from Akihiko. The three of you burst out laughing a couple of seconds later, quieting down after a minute or two.

You sat in silence for a second before Kazue’s head whipped around to look at you. “Oh! Y/N do you want to come with me and Aki to the arcade after school today? Rai challenged me to a game marathon and you know I could never let him beat me,” she said. You smiled at her, she was always so energetic.

“Sorry Kazue. I have to meet up with my dad after school so I’m gonna have to pass for today,” you replied.

She pouted at you, “awwwwwww okay.”

Akihiko looked at you curiously. “Why does your dad wanna meet up with you right after school?”

“That’s exactly what I was wondering,” you said as you leaned back in your chair, “he simply told me to meet him at training grounds.”

“That’s strange,” Akihiko said with a raised eyebrow. Kazue nodded in agreement and mentally you were nodding along. It was strange but your dad has made stranger requests so it’s easier to just not ask at this point.

You were about to say so when your teacher walked in, signaling the beginning of class. Akihiko and Kazue went to take their seats and you shifted so you were actually sitting properly. You sighed. Time for another long day of classes.

(...)

You walked down the halls of the school, making your way to the training grounds. You hummed one of the songs your father played on his radio station. It was a new song and it had quickly become one of your favourites, although you loved all of your father’s songs regardless. You quickly reached your destination and you stopped your humming. You quietly opened the door to the grounds, stepping through.

“Dad? I’m here like you asked,” you said. As you looked up you suddenly saw a bo staff hurtling towards your face. You yelped and brought up your arms instinctively to block it. The staff hit your arm and clattered to the ground. You rubbed your arms for a second to soothe the ache before bending down and picking up the bo staff. You looked back up with a raised brow, shooting your father an unimpressed look.

“Really?” you drawled.

Your father at least looked slightly sheepish, although it was hard to tell the difference from his normal tired look. “Sorry Y/N. I didn’t notice you walked in or else I wouldn’t have knocked Shinsou’s staff in that direction.”

You hummed before finally looking at the other figure in the room. You instantly recognized him, he was in your class after all. Bright violet hair and eyes with heavy dark circles under them. He was dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, a very different look than the uniform he was usually required to wear. You almost snorted because standing next to your father they looked strikingly similar. 

Shinsou shot you a confused look, probably wondering why you were there. Internally, you were just as confused. You knew your dad was training a student, you just had no idea who it was. Also if he was training with Shinsou today than why did you have to be there? 

The both of you looked at your father. “Why is Shinsou/Yamada here Sensei/Dad?” You said simultaneously, the only difference being a couple of words. Shinsou turned back to look at you, his face showing he was even more confused than before. “Dad?” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

Aizawa sighed, already tired of this situation. “Shinsou, this is my child, Y/N,” he said as he gestured to you. He then looked at you again and said, “Y/N. You’re here because I decided it would be helpful if you could help me train Shinsou.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but stare at your dad for a minute.

“Excuse me what now?”

[kaylathekittykat225]

The Pain of Friendship // Wally West x Reader

Warning/s: Sadness, death, parental abuse

Word Count: 4,875

Hope you all are having a better week then I am. Having a rough patch but it’s not fiiiiiine.

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

"Best friend!" The familiar and loud voice of Wally West screamed in your ear as you felt someone pull you out of the computer chair you were seated in and spun you around. "We did it! We won! Savage and Witch Boy are gone!"

"I know! You guys did it!" You giggled at his antics and excitement as you wrapped your arms wrapped around your best friend's neck; truthfully you were just happy that he was still alive.

Placing you down on the ground, he sent you an obvious glare, crossing his arms over his chest and hit hip out like his mom usually did when he did something he wasn't supposed to. But Wally West wasn't his mother. "Hey, you helped too. You were our computer girl, you locked all of the rogue JL members in the basement thing."

Nodding, you agreed with him. "Well then, I suppose I did help you." You chuckled again as you watched him triumphantly fist pump the air and proceeded to run off into another room, still screaming about how you guys had won the battle against the group Savage led.

Shaking your head, you sat back down in front of the computer in the main room of the Watch Tower, going back to clearing the system of whatever Klarion sent into the computer to jam everything.

Going back and forth between the settings and the internet, you hit a stump on how to clear the main frame of the computer. You may have been the Tech Wiz, as the team so kindly dubbed to be your super name, but really, magic infecting the hardware as well as the software of a computer was way out of your league.

"Happy New Year! Go screw yourself 2011!" Wally's voice once again rang through the compound and you smiled happily to yourself, still so thankful to have him for your best friend. Opening the security cameras, you waited for it to track Wally's position and show you what the often idiot of a genius was doing.

While flipping through the multitude of channels on the security feed, you thought about how much your life has changed because of Wally. Before Wally you never would have found a best friend, or even a friend at all. Heck without him, you might not even be alive.

When you we younger, your mom often spoke with her fist rather than with her mouth, the heavy alcohol in her system wasn't helping either. She's just having a bad day, she didn't mean it, she still loves you. Every day you told yourself this, hoping your words would come true one day.

Things only went south for you before they got better. You instinctively knew to wear your way too big of a long sleeve T-shirt your mom grabbed your arm, put on pants when she kicked your leg, put on that itchy turtleneck when she scratched your neck. You always knew how to make sure no one knew you were in pain.

But then again, no one asked. No one asked why you always had a limp, always wore grungy and dirty clothes, no one would ask why you would have to run to and from school every day. No one asked if you were okay. They all just assumed that you were okay.

No one asked until your mom came charging into your 3rd grade classroom and demanding to know why you weren't buying the groceries. She didn't let you speak as she struck you across the face with a loud slap before she grabbed your arm and wrenched you out of the classroom.

Everyone stood in shock until a red headed boy from the grade above you stopped your mom and asked if you could play at his house after school. Both you and your mother were shocked by the question, you because someone approached your mother and your mother because you had a friend who wanted to take your time away from dealing with her.

The police arrived before she could do anything to you or the red headed boy you had never really talked to before. Teachers questioned how they never saw the signs, counselors offered their best advice, numerous gifts and condolences were sent to you. But still, no one asked if you were okay.

"So how was your week, Y/N?" Mrs. Thornberry asked with a gentle smile on her face, but you never saw the smile; you kept your eyes cast down to the floor while your quiet ten-year-old self kept your hands pressed underneath your knees. Even after a year and a half of talking to the counselor your school assigned you, you were nowhere closer to being comfortable talking to her than you were the first day you arrived.

"Good." Same old answer you give every week. Nothing changed since last week, no new emotions or melt downs, but you would never tell her, why do you have to?

"Okay," her pen scratched against the paper on her clipboard. "Well how about your cousins, how are they treating you?"

"They're too nice," You whimper before you clamped your mouth tightly shot after you spoke, hoping she didn't hear you. You continue to watch your swinging legs swirl in gentle circles in hopes that she wouldn't ask you any further about what you meant.

"And what do you mean they are being too nice?"

Sighing, you felt as though you could at least say this out loud. "Tammy and Martha treat me like a...a...a piece of tissue paper, like I'm going to rip if they tug too hard. Their mommy has to make them play with me, but they always whisper about how they don't want to hurt me. I don't wanna be the girl with the mean mommy, I just wanna be a normal kid." You finished talking and heard her writing again on her clipboard, and you knew, that she wasn't hearing you, Mrs. Thornberry was only listening to the noise of your voice.

"And how does this make you feel, sweetie?" When her eyes looked up at you, you turned away and back to watching your feet make figure eights in the air. This is why you didn't talk during your hour-long sessions, even if it made things awkward for the both of you. You didn't want anyone to know how you feel because they didn't care how you feel, what was on your mind, they just listened to the words, but never heard them.

For the last fifteen minutes of your session you kept your mouth shut, ignoring any of the questions she asked you, whether you made friends, how were your drawing skills, were you eating normally yet and so on. "Well, Y/N, I think it's time-"

"Oh Mrs. T! You are three minutes late! Did you forget about your favorite student?" The heavy door swung open and a grinning red headed boy stood in the doorway. The grin slipped away however when he saw the two of you starring at him. "O-oh, I'm so sorry, I'll, I'll go sit back in the lobby. I'm sorry." And with that, the door was closed again and the two of you were left in silence.

"As I was saying, Y/N, it is time for you to go home. So, let's take you back out to your aunt." You stood up and waited for her to open the door for you and you followed her out the door, seeing your aunt sitting in the waiting room with her purse held tightly to her chest. And across from her, hiding behind the fake plant was the red-haired boy from before.

"How was she today?" Your aunt smiled at you while she began talking with Mrs. Thornberry about what wasn't confidential about your progress.

You looked over and saw the young boy staring at you from behind the branch he hid behind. Mustering up an unknown courage, you crept towards him slowly while he stepped out from his hiding spot behind the tree, looking at his shoes bashfully when you finally stood in front of him. "Sorry about running in the room like that, it was mean."

"It's okay," You whispered back, sucking your lip between your teeth as you questioned whether this was a good idea or not. "I really like your shirt." Pointing at the yellow lightning bolt on his shirt, you watched as his smile grew on his face.

"Thanks! Flash is my all-time favorite Justice Team superhero!" HE jumped up and down giddily. "Who's your favorite superhero? Do you like Flash, too?"

"I actually really like Superman; he can fly places." Your answer was meek and quiet as you traced the tip of your shoe in the carpeted flooring and watching the fibers move with your shoe.

"Yeah, that's cool. But Flash can run on the water!"

"But Superman can look through...through mountains! And he can pick up cities!" Your voice rose with excitement, not even noticing that this conversation really was going on for much longer than anyone was ever willing to talk to you in a long time.

"That's not true! He can't really do that." The kid crossed his arms and glared at you while he thought if it really was possible.

"Uh-huh, Kent Clark in the newspaper my aunt reads says so! And he knows a lot!"

"But how does he-"

"Wally dear, it's time for your session." Mrs. Thornberry's voice got quiet when she saw the two of you talking, both sets of wide eyes staring back at her almost sad like. "Oh...oh my gosh." Your aunt and her exchanged a look the two of you didn't see as you bid each other farewell, Wally promising that you would talk more about the Justice League superheroes next week.

And you two did. As the weeks passed towards the end of the school year, you saw Wally after every session with your therapist, he was talk about superheroes or how the sun would one day eat the Earth or how he thinks there's an alien living in his bathroom.

Now you walked over to the table Wally was sitting at during the lunch period fourth and fifth graders shared with each other. "Hi," Almost at a whisper, you were surprised he looked up at the sound of your quiet chirp. "Can-can I sit with you? Eat lunch I mean?" As with every time you got nervous, you sucked your lower lip between your teeth as you watched his eyes widen in surprise at your question.

"Y/N, yeah! Yeah you can sit with me!" He moved his lunch tray away from the seat across from him, allowing you to sit down and place your own food on the table. "Oh! You have a Superman sweater!"

Looking down, you yourself confirmed that you were wearing the blue Superman sweater you found in a thrift store. "Well he is my favorite superhero," You told him, smiling as he grinned happily at you. "I have a secret." Leaning forward, you lowered your voice and watched him lean closer to you in anticipation. "I'm actually Superman."

He threw his head back in laughter, the sandwich he held in his hand forgotten. "Well if you're Superman, that means I'm the Flash."

"Then we can fight the bad guys together!" You both giggled as you began eating your food, the sandwich Wally had was gone in a mouthful and he turned to the pile of green broccoli, shoving a bunch of the small trees in his mouth, promptly spitting them back out. "Not liking the broccoli?"

"It's really salty today." Wally grabbed his water and chugged it, gargled it and chugged it again. "Actually, all broccoli tastes bad."

"Not if you put a bunch of cheese on it, then you can't taste the greenness. My mom used to put it on my..." You quieted and down felt a pit in your stomach. "Never mind."

"It's okay, I get it, my daddy likes to hit me with his belt when he gets angry. He's angry a lot. And that's why my mom makes me talk to Mrs. Thornberry." You looked at him and instead of looking at him with pity like everyone else would, you saw Wally and that he really didn't want to eat his broccoli but was hungrily eyeing your candy bar you had.

"Hey, Wally." He hummed and looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours and seeing that you didn't want to apologize for him. "Do you wanna be best friends?" You quickly pursed your lips as you waited for an answer.

"Really?!" He jumped up and down in his seat and grinned like a wild man. "You really mean it? I've never had a best friend before!" And with that, he loudly gasped. "Wait! We both have a mean mom and dad; can we be mean moms and dads’ best friends?"

"I like that, we should be best friends forever!"

Honestly best friend’s forever was an understatement; for the past five years you've been there for him. Ever since his dad finally got help and stopped hitting Wally and his mom, you were there for him.

You were there when Wally had his stupid science fair accident, he didn't listen to or believe you when you told him to step back, but everything still happened. He was shot with the lightning and suddenly he was down.

There you were when Wally was being wheeled away from his home in the ambulance, sobbing and crying for him to stay alive after his stupid lightning rendering machine exploded.

And you sure as hell were there when he woke up to slap him with his medical charts when he joked with you to about how smoking hot, he was.

But you stayed. And you happily stayed with him when he finally got the attention of the Flash and became his side kick. And while he did that, you became the girl on the headset, just like in those police shows, telling them what to do and who was doing what.

Wally even had the perfect name, dubbing you the Tech Wizard. And hell were you one, being able to keep up with Robin by taking down his firewalls and decrypting some of his unimportant files just to scare him. You got his attention and respect right away with that move, proving that you didn't need to have a superpower to be super awesome in the field.

The supercomputer in front of you pinged loudly, flashing as it announced the beginning of the new year, pinging an alert to comes up on the screen. Smiling, you heard the cheers of everyone and pulled up the security feed for the main room just over from where you were. Everyone was celebrating in the taboo sort of way, everyone paired off.

There was Robin finally with Zatana, something you knew both sides wanted.

Rocket and Aqualad were both flushing as Rocket stepped away from pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

Conner and M'gann were smiling and happily staring at each other from their still new relationship.

But when you found Wally, your throat shut tightly around itself as you watched him remain lip locked with Artemis. Every experience with her ran through your head.

"Ah, human traditions will forever evade me." Red Tornado stepped behind you, but you couldn't even laugh at the poor joke he made.

I mean, they were perfect for each other; they fought like an old married couple and were always worried about each other.

She was your second-best friend. And she had every right to date him if she really likes him.

So why shouldn't your girl best friend date your guy best friend?

Well it kinda hurts when you see her kissing the boy you've liked since you were eight.

<<<7 Years Later>>>

"Hey TW, how's the new visor acoming? Aw they're totally gonna be crash aren't they!" Bart buzzed around you like an excited bumblebee who found the perfect flower.

You sighed at his excitement. "Barty, Bart, you need to be patient, I'm almost done, go bug Blue Beetle or something."

"Oh, oh! Bug the bug! That is totally crash! BB! Where are you?" And he was gone in a flash.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your back and groaning when you heard the multiple pops as you looked around your techie shop.

Ever since Wally's death a year ago you had changed from being just the Computer Wiz to be a full-time techie one. Using an old microwave and a TV you practiced on how to upgrade gear and even build gear for the team.

Turning on the music, you muttered how you knew this would be a long night, knowing you couldn't properly sleep right now and had to have music to distract you. "This was your guys favorite song." Not even a minute in and someone was there to distract you again. Looking over your shoulder, you looked to the doorway. "You both always used to dance to it when he came back from missions."

Artemis stood in the doorway of your shop; her face free of her tigress mask but the tight uniform still clung to her body. "Artemis, what are you doing here so late?"

She smiled at you before shifting her gaze to the floor. "I should ask the same thing, Y/N." She sighed sadly, opening her mouth as to speak, but quickly shut her mouth.

"Artemis, what's wrong, girlie?" Putting the goggles down, you turned around and pressed the small button under your foot, closing the door behind Artemis as well as shutting off recordings and camera operations. "You know I can make things soundproof, so no one will get in here."

Nodding, she rolled a chair out from your other desk and took a seat across from you. "I miss him. So much, Y/N." She began moving her chair back and forth with the toe of her boot. "I thought...I thought after talking with Canary, and giving it time, and finally getting myself back out there would be enough. I can finally sleep again, Y/N. I moved out of our apartment and moved into a house. And...Y/N, I think I finally met someone."

You grinned and chuckled at her, "Artemis that's great! I'm so happy of you."

"But Y/N, I...I feel like I'm betraying the memories I had of him, I feel like I am burying him and trying to forget him." The blonde tiger hastily rubbed her eyes and wiped the tears away; you pulled yourself towards her and gently squeezed her knee.

"Artemis, I swear to you, you aren't forgetting him. We have the grotto for a reason, to remember him and everyone who fell. But think about Wally. He wouldn't want you moping around, like he probably would be mad you found someone apparently hotter than he was, but Wally would want you to be happy.

Artemis moved her hand to grab yours and squeeze your hand back. "I know, I...I just don't miss him anymore. Wait I said that wrong, I don't miss him any more like I don't think about him when I wake up or go to bed. I found Charlie and I'm happy. I'm happy again, Y/N."

"So be happy, Artemis!"

Smiling, your best friend stood up and pulled you with her, hugging you tightly. "Thank you, Y/N, for everything."

Humming you squeezed her shoulder, "Now about this Charlie, I will need his last name and I need to check his background history."

The two of you broke into giggles before she confirmed you were the best thing to happen to her and she pulled you away from your works station. "Come on, Y/N, if I don't physically pull you away from this place, you'll be here all night without even realizing."

"But I have work to do. Bart's goggles, and then the new chip systems and your new-" Artemis was stronger and more resilient than you were and pulled you from your chair.

"Y/N, come on, you need to get out of this cramped workspace for a solid week now! You need to get out!!

I felt my stomach cringe when I remembered why I has been hiding in my little makeshift office, "Yeah, Arti, but I-"

"No buts, Y/N. You are going home, and I will lock you in that house if I have to." Before you could say one more complaint to let her leave you alone, she shoved you through the Zeta Tube and you were transported to the old phone booth across the street from a park.

Grumbling to yourself, you ran your tense hands over your jean covered thighs and stared at the playground across the way. Old memories pulled themselves out of the farthest places of your mind; Wally and you always loved to come to this park, as you got older, you spent a lot of your evenings here because let's be honest, you loved playing at the park, but the parents of little kids thought you were murders looking for their next prey.

June 20th.

Your phone chirped at the new day, happy to share that the beginning of the second year without your best friend had begun. Sighing in defeat, you wandered over to the swing set and sat down on the U-shaped plastic seat, already knowing that your hips would be sore in ten minutes complain and asking for you to move. Pushing your weight back and forth with your toes, you stared at the wood pellet covered ground and let your mind for the first time in days.

Truth was, you were hiding in your workshop, trying as hard as you could to stay away from everyone as this day came closer. You may have been tense with Wally after he and Artemis began their relationship, but he was always your first and bestest of friends. Your best memories were with that silly ginger.

But your saddest memories also revolved around him.

When he and Artemis began dating was like a sword directly to your soul.

When he moved away from you in with Artemis to pursue his college life, almost a thousand miles away from you.

When he had left the team.

When he was lost to the time vortex.

Your tears you were waiting to get too heavy for you to hold finally fell down your face and you let your body shake on the now still swing; your hands went to hide you face and you let your yearly memories of your best friend wash over you.

This is why you didn't want to be alone today. You wanted to be busy in your workshop, so you didn't have to hear the alarm for the beginning of the new day. You knew you would be alone with your tears and your happiest and saddest memories and no one to console you out of your state.

"And I thought everyone had forgotten about me." A quiet voice whispered next to you. Looking up quickly from your hands, you looked over to the next swing and couldn't believe what you wanted to curse whatever supervillain was out to get you this time.

"No, not again." Your voice squeaked out as you stood up and walked away, reminding yourself what your Psychologist had told you to do when you saw him again. "You're not here. This is just another one of my illusions. You'll go away." Looking back, you were surprised to see his green eyes looking so lively yet so sad and so real as they stared at you.

He stood up and took a few tentative steps towards you, his arm slowly listing towards you with every step. "Y/N/N, it's me." His hand gently touched your wet cheek, wiping the last of your tears away, sending a shock through you at how real this one felt.

He looked into your confused and shocked eyes and knew you still didn't believe him. He had been allowed to see parts of your lift after he left. He knew your mind for months played tricks on you and you were in denial when he died the hardest. He also found out... "Remember when we went to that fair a couple years ago? Right before we started YJ? And the Ferris Wheel?"

Your eyes remained the size of dinner plates as you nodded, his hand remained where it was, his thumb caressing your cheek as your tears still spilled out. "You know you really need to tell a person you're afraid of heights before you go up and get stuck on top." He chuckled, his green eyes squinting and showing you what would later become his laugh lines near his eyes.

"Wally." You let go the breath you were holding since he showed up, a sob running past your lips.

"Hey, Y/N. It's me." He smiled before you threw your arms around his neck, your feet leaving the ground as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the ginger hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he finally let the tears he had been hiding fall.

Muffled from his shoulder, you didn't let him go as you breathed in the smell of him from his jacket. "How? You were dead."

"I suppose neither side wanted me, so they kicked me back." You let out a sad laugh and squeezed him tighter, not yet believing that he was home again. "Whatever the Light had set up transported me to some weird time zone. I felt every second that passed as slow as you did, but...I had to watch everyone. I saw everything I never thought I'd see. I watched my own funeral, everyone crying. I watched my mom and dad fall apart and I couldn't do anything about it. I watched the team move on without me. Artemis finally moved on, she found her perfect guy. But...the saddest part was watching you, Y/N, you never moved on. You were the one who always visited my grave. I could barely count how many times you cried over me." His arms went tighter around you as you felt more tears slip past your eyes, you own shoulder getting damper as his own tears fell.

"How could I when my superhero had died and left me alone to fight this world alone?" You looked at him and finally looked at him. He did look older, but in the best ways. But his eyes. They still glittered like they used to, but you knew they had seen too much now as he saw his team and entire family break over his death.

"Why didn't you ever tell me, Y/N?" You turned away when he asked, you just knew he would have to ask that question, if he really did watch you all this time, you knew he now knew.

"Because you were perfect for each other. You fought like a married couple and loved each other like star crossed lovers. Why would you love your broken best friend who used you as emotional support when her mom beat her?"

His eyes stayed fixed on you, "Because I love my mean mom and dad best friend." Hs voice a low and quiet whisper, your head shooting up to stare at him. "You've been the best thing in my life ever since I saw you in the first grade when you were new to my school. I just...I was the funny one who hid his pain away and thought he needed to have a girl who didn't know what happened to me to forget what happened with my dad and who wouldn't look at me like a kicked puppy. But, Y/N, what I needed was you. Someone who understood my pain when someone shouted too loud or who flinched when someone reached for their belt. You were the only one who understood me to that deeper level, and I didn't know why Artemis and I didn't work until it was too late, and you were already not interested in me anymore."

"You idiot," You whispered before reaching up and quickly pressed a short kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a few seconds, but the kiss you had almost dreamed about for years now. Pulling your eyes opened, you looked into his surprised green ones and smiled. "I loved you from the day you saved me from my mom."

Wally pulled you into a tight hug and spun you around, bring laughter out of the both of you. "I love you, so much, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Wally." You whispered back before you felt your feet touch the ground. "Wanna play on the playground?" You smiled up at him and watched his grow as well.

"Well duh."

"Tag your it!" You yelled, slapping him on the arm and took off running for the slides, your laughter filling the night as you shouted at him not to cheat with his speed and him complaining that he needed to stretch his legs.

But the both of you knew that things were better now, because your best friend was home, and wherever Wally was, that was your home.

[kasumi-chou]

Home 

“No.”

Yuuri bit back a smile as he gently rocked Yuri back and forth in his lap.

“Sleep,” he mumbled ever so softly while pressing a kiss to the top of Yuri’s head, all the while rocking back and forth..

It was a little after nine and he had been trying to get Yuri to get to sleep for a while now. He had done everything he normally did to put his son to sleep – read him his favourite story, gave him hot milk, even tried singing – but Yuri was fighting sleep.

And as much as he wanted Yuri to sleep, he understood why he wasn’t.

Victor came back tonight.

His flight wasn’t due to land until after midnight and much to Yuri’s dismay, he wasn’t taking Yuri with him to pick up his fiancé.

“Papa,” Yuri whined, “Not tired.”

He hummed softly, gently rubbing the boy’s back.

“Oh?” he questioned, earning a yawn in response, “You aren’t tired at all?”

“No,” Yuri declared, trying to be loud but clearly slowly falling asleep, “Want to go.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbled softly, “But it’s too late.”

“No.”

He pressed another kiss to the boy’s head.

“You can come wake us up in the morning,” he promised, “I’m sure Vicchan would love that.” And knowing Victor, he would love the early wake up call despite the loss of sleep.

“I’ll cook pancakes for breakfast, and you can tell Vicchan about everything you and Phichit did. I’m sure Phichit will let you borrow his phone to show Vicchan all the photos.”

As he spoke, Yuri’s eyes slowly seemed to fall shut and it didn’t take long for sleep to finally take its hold on the boy.

He sat there, rocking Yuri softly to make sure to boy was asleep.

“He’ll be here in the morning,” he promised again. He let out a soft sigh before gently brushing some hair out of the sleeping boy’s face.

“Love you,” he muttered before gently tucking Yuri into his bed, right beside Potya. He gave the cat a gentle pat, earning a chirp in response before she settled closer to Yuri, to sleep against him like she always done.

Once he was sure Yuri was tucked in, he quietly left the room. Leaving the boy to sleep as he anxiously waited for time to tick down until he got to see Victor again.

Yuuri let out a shaky breath as he pulled on his jacket.

“Look at you, all nervous about your fiancé’s return.”

He let out a breath as he turned to look at Phichit, who was sitting crossed legged on the couch, wrapped up in his adorable hamster pyjamas and cradling a large mug of tea.

“I’m not nervous,” he defended.

“You’ve changed your shoes twice, fixed your hair three times and refused my offer to make you tea when you don’t leave for another half an hour,” Phichit pointed out, causing his best friend to huff.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he defended.

“Sit, take your shoes off and relaxed, you have time,” Phichit demanded before patting the seat beside him.

He sighed but did as he was asked and sat down beside Phichit and took his shoes off.

“You’re stressing too much,” Phichit stated before grabbing a mug from the coffee table and thrusting in his hand. He went to protest until he realised Phichit was still holding a mug of his own, “I’m sure Victor will be all over you the moment he sees you.”

“I’ve never asked but… what about yourself?” he asked, trying to distract Phichit. The Thai skater paused at the questioned.

“Me?” Phichit wondered, “What about me?”

“Your love life?” he asked, seeming to have distracted him like he planned.

But his distraction brought up an interesting topic as Phichit’s cheeks flushed red.

“My love life?” Phichit stuttered out, suddenly very flustered and making Yuuri even more curious.

“Dating? Crush? Hm?” he asked, nudging the Thai man.

“N-no,” Phichit quickly denies, though his stutter didn’t convince him.

“Phichit,” he mumbled, pouting at his friend, “Tell me.”

“It’s just a crush,” Phichit admitted with a groan of defeat, “Nothing more. He doesn’t even know I exist.”

“How do you know that?” he said, unable to believe that there was a person in the skating community that didn’t know who Phichit Chulanont was.

“He doesn’t talk to me. Doesn’t look at me. He has no clue who I am,” Phichit mumbled before sipping at his tea.

Yuuri watched Phichit closely as he busied himself with his tea, clearly trying to stay busy as to not answer any more questions.

“Talk to him,” he suggested, earning a startled look from the skater.

“What? Just go up and talk to him?” Phichit squeaked, sounding offended by the suggestion.

“You are a bright and bubbly person, Phichit, I’m sure that they won’t find it strange,” he assured his friend, earning a quick shake of the head in response.

“I’ll just have to talk to Chr-“

“NO!?” Phichit shouted, reaching over to grab his forearm, “You will not say a word of this to Chris or Victor, do you understand me.”

Yuuri stared at Phichit with an arched eyebrow before nodding his head, earning a sigh of relief from the skater.

“You know that South Korean skater-“ He started only to be quickly cut off.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” Phichit shouted, then quickly covered his mouth. He chuckled softly and reached over to gently pat Phichit’s leg gently.

“Even a child can see your crush on him,” he explained, earning a horrified look in response, “Just talk to him. I’m sure he’ll fall for your charm fairly quickly.”

“I HAVE TO LEAVE AND NEVER RETURN,” Phichit declared. He rolled his eyes as he quickly grabbed the back of Phichit’s shirt and pulled him back down before he could get up fully.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I need a babysitter while I pick up Victor,” he pointed out, earning a pout in response.

“Fiiiiiine.”

Yuuri bounced his knee nervously, glancing down at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

Victor’s plane had landed mere minutes ago and he was just waiting on the passengers to start disembarking.

It a matter of minutes he would be reunited with his future-husband.

Makkachin nudged his hand, asking for pats as she sat there beside him.

“Yes, you’re such a good girl,” he cooed softly while ruffling the poodle’s ears.

She had been so patient with him, having let him ramble the whole way on the drive to the airport to get over his nerves. It hadn’t just been the nervous of seeing Victor but also driving.

He had his license, Nikolai had insistent he learn and got it by having only driven Nikolai’s car a handful of times. Driving could sometimes make him nervous; Nervousness that was made all the more worse while driving Victor’s car, something a lot more expensive than Nikolai’s old beast.

Makkachin had been on her best behaviour, even managing to get through security with little problems.

And now they were stuck waiting for Victor to leave his plane and make it through customs.

He smiled at the poodle as she rested her head in his lap, allowing him to stroke her muzzle – something she seemed to enjoy.

They had been sitting there a while, minutes ticking by as they waited.

And then something seemed to catch Makkachin’s attention. He watched as the poodle seemed to spin around, facing the glass wall before letting out a bark and jumping up to paw at the glass.

It took him a moment to realise what had caught Makkachin’s attention, but when it did, he stumbled to his feet.

Victor.

Victor was right there on the other side of the glass.

“Victor,” he couldn’t help but mumble, earning a soft smile in response.

He wasn’t sure if he was the one that moved first of if it was Victor, but they were suddenly racing along the length of the glass, moving quickly towards the single door that would allow them to properly reunite.

The whole time they ran, he refused to drop Victor’s gaze, after so long apart, he couldn’t dare bring himself from looking away from those hypnotic blue eyes.

He came to a halt, a few meters from the door as Victor waited with an impatient look for the door to slowly slide open.

He barely had time to open his arms before he found himself pressed tightly against his fiancé’s chest.

“Yurasha,” Victor sigh, arms tightening around him even more, “I missed you.”

A light laugh bubbled past  his lips as he pulled back slightly, just enough to raise his head to look into his fiancé’s eyes again.

“I missed you too, Vitya,” he assured his fiancé, earning a smile in response.

“Good.”

Before any further words could be said, Victor connected their lips in a kiss.

A kiss full of emotions. A kiss that told of sadness, of loneliness, of love.

A kiss that told him that Victor missed him just as much as he missed him.

The kiss was finally broken, but not by either of them.

Makkachin, having grown tired of being ignored, pounced on them to break the apart. They stumbled to keep their balance as the poodle stood on her hind legs to reach them.

“Makkachin!” Victor laughed at the poodle before beginning to coo, arms refusing to leave his waist as he held him close.

“Vicchan,” he mumbled softly, immediately earning his fiancé’s attention, “It’s time to go home.”

His suggestion was met with an immediate smile and the arms around his waist slowly let go. One of his hands were immediately taken a hold of and their fingers tangled together.

“I think it is,” Victor confirmed before pulling him along with their Makkachin a step behind.

Firstly, I just wanted to say thank you to all my readers who have sat through my slowly lengthen time period between chapters.

Secondly, until further notice - SND series/SIT will be going on hiatus.

Writing has slowly become harder and harder of the past couple of months and I think it's time that I take a break.

There is a few other things I would like to work on - which also possible includes the story of how Yuuri and Yuri came to be - but we will see how I go.

This does not mean that story is over, just the current arc I suppose you could say.

Thank you again!

Skater Next Door AU

AO3 Skater Next Door / Skater In Training

[wellhellsbelles]

down the hall

okay, so by determination and sheer force of will, yours truly was finally able to bust out a short fic for riarkle once again!!!! this one had been sitting in my documents for a while, partially finished, so i’m glad i was able to pull myself out of my writer’s block for this. :)

anyway, here’s the link for it on ao3 if you’re into that sort of website (the au has a little real-life backstory to it at the beginning if you’d wanna see that)

enjoy!

//

She meets him one night while she’s holing herself up inside the lounge on their floor, trying desperately to escape the noise of the annoying freshmen echoing throughout the hall.

//

Riley’s a transfer student. She took a smart route (at least, that’s what everybody’s told her and that her student debt has convinced her) by going to a community college for the first couple of years after graduating high school. She gets an Associate’s degree in art and then pops over to the university, deciding to live in the dorms for at least one year to get that good ol’ college experience she missed out on earlier.

But man, is it crazy.

Her college doesn’t do a good job at splitting the transfers up from the freshmen in the dorms, so she and a few other unlucky souls get caught up in sharing a floor with a bunch of teens who are being released from their “oppressive overlords” (aka kind, generous parents) for the first time.

These kids don’t seem to understand that they are officially on their own now, and that the outside trashcans behind the dorms exist for a reason. Riley talks shit about them with her roommate, Maya, whenever she gets the chance, but most of the time, much to Riley’s chagrin, Maya is off somewhere else to complete a plethora of art projects for her BA in Studio Art.

So Riley’s left by herself most weekends to deal with the onslaught of hyped-up still-teenagers that are bouncing off the wall and partying whenever they get a chance.

It’s not that bad, really, though; at least, not as bad as she makes it seem. Some of the other students are nice and respect the floor rules, and retain the manners their parents spent years teaching them. But when it does get unbearable, she escapes to the lounge before any of them can, claiming the room so that she can watch shows on Netflix to drown out the noise surrounding her. It serves to be a great plan, except until someone crashes in on her plans one night, taking over her time in the lounge.

He's one of the few transfers on their floor, she remembers him mentioning he was a transfer, along with joining her and the other transfer in liberating themselves from the freshmen group they were forced into (they aren’t freshmen!!!) He seemed like a nice guy, but obviously he doesn’t respect boundaries and her lounge time.

“Um, excuse me,” she announces her presence, tapping him on the shoulder slightly with her index finger. The boy (she thinks his name is ‘Farrel’, at least, that’s what his door tag says) looks up briefly from the huge textbook in his lap to give her a once over, his eyebrow arching on his forehead.

“Yes?”

Riley can tell right away he’s the analytical kind, probably verging on nerd territory. Don’t get her wrong, she’s certainly one herself, too. It takes one to know one after all.

“I kind of use the space at this time of night . . .” she trails, trying her best to remain amicable.

She’s not one to get all irrational and angry right away, not over something as trivial as a nonexistent ‘claimed’ Riley-time in the lounge, but she feels as though she ought to fight for it a bit. It is her only real source of sanctuary, and she intends to keep it that way, especially because this time had been honored by the other rowdy kids on the floor up until now.

“Well, there’s plenty of room for the both of us. I don’t see why we can’t both sit in here,” he says with a shrug. “There’s a couple of armchairs and a table still open over there.”

Strike one—she doesn’t need some smug asshole pointing out things to her like she’s some sort of simpleton. Riley is no man’s philistine.

“Okay, but I just want to be alone in here for a little bit. Would you mind moving out? I promise I’ll be gone in a couple of hours.” She’s not being ridiculous, she promises.

“I’m just going to be sitting in here reading my textbook. I don’t understand why we can’t both just sit in here. It’s not like this couch has your name on it.”

Oh, okay. Definitely a strike two if he’s gonna sass her up.

“Really? Last time I checked it did, right on the tag on the side here,” Riley points to the arm of the couch where the tag is sticking out. The boy remains intrigued, settling his textbook to the side so he can check out if what she’s saying is true.

Oldest trick in the book.

While he investigates the tag, Riley takes the opportunity to steal his spot in the middle of the couch, moving his textbook to the floor and replacing the empty spot beside her with her laptop. The boy flashes his eyes back up, quickly becoming unamused at Riley’s usurpation of power.

“Uh huh. I see how it is. You know, I could easily go get our RA—” Strike three. Her eyes widen and she begins flailing her arms around.

“Please don’t!”

“And tell her that you’re not sharing the lounge at all, which as I recall we all deemed this a “community space”, which translates roughly to “not just yours”,” he says, his arms crossed as he looks down at her impatiently. Riley remains still for a long moment, the two of them just staring the other down, but then—

“Ow!!! What the heck?!”

She throws a pillow at him.

Overall, not her smartest move, but she’s not about to let him win without a proper fight. Why not with pillows?

“En garde!” Riley exclaims, pointing another pillow at him.

“This is how you want to settle this?” he asks, incredulous. She nods.

“This is the only way to settle our dispute. Now en garde!” Riley slaps him on the arm with her pillow, disorienting him once again. He eyes her warily but picks up the other fallen pillow at his feet, steadying himself into a proper fighting stance.

“So whoever wins gets the room for the week—”

“Night,” Riley corrects. The guy shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh. Definitely the week after all this toil you’ve put me through. I was just having a nice quiet evening until you started shrieking at me that this was your couch and then began accosting me with pillows. I deserve a week for this.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Riley groans, acquiescing despite that not being a favorable outcome for her. Fair is fair, after all.

“Okay, then. Bring it.”

Riley does bring her best. She really does. But this guy is obviously skilled in the art of pillow warfare. He disarms her after three tries, and Riley gawks at her pillow lying in the enemy’s arms with disdain.

“How?” she asks, pointing at the stolen pillow. He shrugs.

“I’ll admit, it’s not the first time someone’s made me engage in this brand of war. I’ve got experience.”

“So you cheated,” Riley says blankly, her nostrils flaring a bit. He raises a brow at her.

“How can I cheat if you’re the one who challenged me to a duel in the first place?”

“Sounds like something a cheater would say,” she crosses her arms, her nose pointed to the air.

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” he fires back, his sea-blue eyes trained on hers.

“I’m not a sore loser! You’re the stupid person who stole my spot in the lounge, Farrel,” she jests back, only to earn a blank stare from him, a complete 180° from how he was acting before.

“What did you just call me?” he asks.

“Farrel. That’s your name, isn’t it?” He places a palm upon his forehead, snorting.

“No, it’s Farkle.” Riley makes a pft sound, her face curling in disbelief.

“Uh, no, it’s definitely Farrel. I’ve passed by your door like, a billion times! The name tag clearly says ‘Farrel’.”

“I think I know my own name, Riley,” he tells her. “But here, let’s take a little fieldtrip to clear some things up.”

He grabs onto her wrist and pulls the door open to exit the lounge, veering left immediately after they leave the room. After passing a couple of doors down they stop in front of the worn, wooden door, his fingers releasing her wrist so that he can point at the tag on the door.

“See? Right here, in plain letters. It spells ‘Farkle’. F-A-R-K-L-E.”

“Well, it’s kind of a weird name. Can you blame me for thinking it was something else?” Riley asks. Farkle gives her a look of disdain, his lips thinning.

“And ‘Farrel’ was normal?” She shrugs.

“It was to me.” Riley gazes at him a moment only to catch the slow curl of his mouth, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. Eventually, he starts busting out laughing, his hand gripping his stomach from the fit he’s in, and after a few seconds later, Riley finds herself cackling beside him, his laughter infectious.

After it dies down a minute or so later, Riley can’t find it in herself to be mad at him anymore.

On the contrary, she quite likes his presence. Farkle seems to mirror the same sentiments, because he blurts out,

“Wanna watch Netflix with me?”

Riley blushes a little at the implications of it, but she doesn’t really seem to mind it too much. She likes Farkle a lot, and she’d really love to spend more time with him. Besides, as a transfer student, she hasn’t met a lot of people yet, and hanging out with Farkle would add to her (hopefully) ever-growing friend list.

“Why not? I suppose the lounge is big enough for the two of us,” she smiles, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Farkle smirks back, following alongside her as they walk back into the lounge, closing the door behind them so that they can share the comfort of the lounge together. Farkle plops down on the couch and Riley follows suit, waiting for him to open up his laptop so that they can start watching whatever their hearts desire.

Well, what Riley’s heart desires, at least. He lets her pick what she wants to watch (after bickering about it for several minutes until he gives), and she decides on The X-Files. While he cues it up, Riley disappears from the room briefly to pop some popcorn, turning off the lights once she’s returned to the room so they can get the full theater effect.

And as the show starts, maybe they slide closer together. And, just maybe, Riley curls up against Farkle’s side for comfort.

What really ends up making the night is Farkle’s constant smartass commentary.

“See, that’s just not believable,” he says in the middle of their third episode, munching away at the handful of popcorn he’s grabbed. Riley smacks him on the arm lightly, pursing her lips.

“Just shut up and watch the show, Farkle,” she hisses at him. As she leans back against him, the corners of his mouth tug upward, his cheek pressing against the crown of her head.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he says quietly.

Riley thinks this might be the start of a beautiful friendship.

And who knows? Maybe he’ll be the Mulder to her Scully.

She wouldn’t mind that at all.

Not one bit.

And when it doesn't even bother her when the giddy screams of the freshmen on her floor echo throughout the hall, she knows she made the right choice.