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kuroopaisen · 4 years ago

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the in-between | i (kuroo tetsurou)

➵ it took you and kuroo 24,000 words and 69 pages of pure behemoth far too long to learn that love was never singularly defined. it can be both striking and understated, sudden and unhurried, gentle and all-consuming. and most of all, it can be anything else in-between.

wc: 9k (part 1 of 3)

warnings: f!reader, good old f2l (do i write anything else?), depictions of anxiety & depression, cursing

a/n: i cannot thank @w-yuren enough for all the love and care she poured into beta-ing this :( i’m honestly so touched you worked through this absolute monstrosity w me (and put up w my incoherence) ren u deserve the world <3 (also @jupiturde erin ilysm thank you for reading this over So Many times you’re incredible!!)

m. list | ch. 1 ↠ ch. 2

"I'll help you," Kuroo sighed. "On one condition."

The scant bit of confidence you’d worked up was starting to crumble. You clenched your fists, steeling yourself. At this point, you're willing to do just about anything.

"Manage the volleyball team for a while."

Your face fell. "What, really?"

"Mhm," Kuroo nodded, still slouched over his desk.

"You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

This wasn't quite how you’d expected the situation to go. And quite frankly, you were just upset that you were even in this situation in the first place. But, who wouldn't be?

Begging Kuroo Tetsurou to help you with chemistry wasn’t a situation you’d envisioned yourself ending up in. But, something had to be done about those abysmal exam marks. Your grades in everything else were fine; good, even. Certainly high enough to earn you your spot in Class 5. But that chemistry grade was something to be concerned about. Your homeroom teacher had warned you as much on the very first day of the school year.

And for the handful of weeks since, you’d been driving yourself mad trying to think of a solution. Hard work had only gotten you so far, and none of your friends felt they were competent enough to tutor you. You needed help – desperately.

So there you stood, in front of the desk of a boy you’d never had a proper conversation with before, asking for his help – all while uncomfortably aware that this was cutting into his lunch break.

You hadn’t quite known what to expect from this interaction. You weren't really friends, after all; you’d been vaguely aware of him over this past year and a bit, but knew little, if anything, about him. All you knew was that he was topping the grade when it came to chemistry, and therefore, turning to him in this time of need might help.

You hadn't expected this ultimatum.

"Why?"

It was a genuine question.

"Hm?"

"Why ask me to be your manager?" You asked, tilting your head at him. "I know nothing about volleyball."

"You'll learn."

You frowned. "This is the only way you'll tutor me?"

"It's not the only way," Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you. "But it'd certainly bump it up my priority list."

The worst thing was that it didn't even seem like he was trying to be a dick.

Right, you thought. Pros and cons.

Cons: being a manager would eat up a lot of your time. Presumably. Maybe. You didn't have any real idea.

Also, it would mean spending a lot more time around sweaty boys. That sounded kind of gross.

And what time did practice finish? Walking home after sunset was always a little scary. Certainly scary enough to stoke a bit of anxiety.

More importantly, it sounded like responsibility. Maybe you were overestimating just what being a manager meant, but it sounded like there was plenty of stuff you could mess up.

Pros: it'd look really, really good on your college applications.

Just like a passing chemistry grade would. Which you weren't going to get all on your own.

“It doesn’t have to be for long,” he offered, raising an eyebrow at you. “Just a couple of months. And I’ll be your resource to use as you please.”

You blinked at him, baffled at his choice of phrasing.

“How about you just drop by practice this afternoon?” He suggested, balancing his chin on his fist. “You can get a feel for it.”

You sighed.

“Alright.”

You were willing to do just about anything, after all.

✧ ✧ ✧

Teenage boys, no matter how polite or kind or accommodating, are always scary in packs.

That little revelation came to mind as you pressed yourself meekly against the wall of the gym, watching a gaggle of boys running back and forth, jumping and hitting and shouting. Part of you wanted to melt into the wall, hoping that none of these giants would pay you much attention.

You’re painfully aware of one of them staring at you; a first-year, judging by his use of honorifics. He’s tallish, but not enough to be scary, with close-cropped hair and grumpy eyebrows. There’s a certain intensity to him – he seemed like the sort of person with too much tenacity for his own good.

And yet, he seemed terrified of you. Was he the sort of boy who couldn’t talk to girls?

You smiled to yourself. Such dichotomy in one personality, huh?

There was another boy that caught your eye. A quiet one, with chin-length black hair who seemed to want to sink into the ground. He didn’t look like the sort of boy you’d expect to find on a high school sports team. He was a little shorter than everyone else – except for Yaku, who’d greeted you quite amiably when you’d first arrived.

But Yaku seemed like he wanted to be there. Like he enjoyed it. This kid? He looked like he just wanted to melt into the shadows. He always flinched whenever anyone called out to him. Hell, he seemed to flinch even when someone so much as looked at him. Was he okay? Should you ask if he’s okay? Should you point him out to Kuroo? But Kuroo had already spoken to him a few times…

Well, checking in with people’s well-being would be part of your job as a manager, right? It’d be your duty to make sure that the club members were doing okay.

But practice was still going. You’d have to put a pin in that thought.

The third years were frightening, as expected. But, you felt as though your upperclassmen would always be somewhat scary. The captain had traded a handful of words with you – hellos, nice to meet yous, a what are you even doing here – but he hadn’t made any particular point to help you out.

That job was left to the coach, who, thankfully, seemed quite kind. You had said very little to him, but you could tell that he loved his job just from the serene smile that graced his face as he watched his team go at it.

Practice was over before you knew it. The sun was setting outside the windows, the sky blushing orange. You bit your lip. Maybe you’d be able to get home before it got too dark…

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the gym floor. Maybe you should try talking to one of the boys… Yaku had always been friendly. Maybe he’d tolerate a conversation with you? Oh, what about Kai? He’d been very quiet, but he seemed nice… There was Kuroo, too…

You pressed your lips together, eyes scanning over the gaggle of boys in front of you as your mind ran through the pros and cons all at once.

You frowned. The third years were yapping at that quiet boy; whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem exactly friendly. You froze. Should you do something? Was this normal? Was it a problem? He looked terrified �� not that he showed it outright, but it was in his eyes.

Kuroo was standing behind him, saying something to one of the third years. You couldn’t quite hear them, but Kuroo’s expression was… cold. Not confrontational, just unyielding. Whatever he’d said, the third years stalked away.

You watched closely as Kuroo’s expression softened as he looked at the shorter boy. He looked concerned. Were they friends?

“Oi, manager chick!”

You cringed. It’s one of the third years – not the captain, but someone you’d noted had quite the nasty serve.

“Help clean up!”

“Right!” You gave a quick half-bow, your head flicking around almost frantically as you looked for something to do.

You settled for collecting stray balls, rushing them back to the ball bins. All the while you watched the sky darken beyond the gym windows – and with it, your anxiety began to blossom.

By the time you were picking up your bag to go home, the sky was positively black. You bit your lip as you stared out the gym windows, your eyebrows a little furrowed.

“Hey.”

You looked up, a little startled. Kuroo, forehead slick with sweat and cheeks tinged red from exertion. You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose. Being this close to a sweaty teenage boy wasn’t high on your priorities list.

“What’d you think?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.

You shrugged. “Seems intense.”

“But you don’t hate it, right?” He smiled. It’s hopeful. Almost pitifully so.

You bit the inside of your cheek. In truth, you didn’t. There’s something quite fun about watching them play volleyball up close. They all got so into it. It was always nice, watching people care about something so deeply that enjoyment seeped through every part of their being.

“We’ll see,” you said. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He smiled brightly at that half-promise. Brightly enough that you knew you didn’t want to let him down.

This side of him was already a far cry from that trickster-like figure you’d negotiated with this morning.

“Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat, one hand finding its way to the back of his head. “I was wondering… did you need me to walk you home? I know it’s getting kind of late, so…”

You felt something that’s not quite elation, but certainly a bit more intense than relief. Tokyo’s a safe enough place, yes, but that fact’s never enough to quell the anxiety you’d always felt from walking home in the dark.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” You tried to make your smile look relaxed and natural, but you knew some hint of tension had made its way in there.

“Cool,” Kuroo said, giving you a little nod as his eyes scanned your face. He relaxed his shoulders a bit, slouching down a little. Was he… trying to make himself smaller? “But, uh… where do you live?”

By some miracle, it’s not all that far from his place. You caught the relief on his face, even if he made an effort to hide it. Would he really have walked you all the way to your house, even if it wasn’t in the same area?

He didn’t give you time to think about it, turning around and waving a hand in the air.

“Hey, Kenma!”

Your brows rose instinctively as the shy kid scurried over, head hunched down and hands stuffed into his pockets.

“This is Kenma,” Kuroo smiled, nodding at him. “He’s my next-door neighbour.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, tilting your head at him.

“Yeah,” Kenma nodded in a quiet response, not quite able to meet your eyes. You didn’t press it. You offered him your name quickly, a bit like an afterthought, but Kenma gave you a little nod in recognition.

“You guys ready to go?” Kuroo looked between the both of you, tilting his head at the door.

You glanced over at Kenma. He didn’t glance back.

“Yeah,” you nodded, relieved that you wouldn’t have to walk the dark streets on your own.

✉

[YOU] 7:21 PM: hello! Is this kuroo?

[Kuroo] 7:34 PM: you got it

[YOU] 7:36 PM: thank goodness! I just wanted to say, thank you for walking me home today. I was a bit worried about it, but I didn’t want to impose

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: not a problem. I’m more than happy to do it again tomorrow

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: since you are coming to practice, right?

[YOU] 7:40 PM: Sure :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Kuroo Tetsurou hadn’t been what you’d expected.

For one thing, he’d actually made good on your deal. You’d half-expected him to bail on tutoring you – though you couldn’t exactly say why. But, you supposed it would be hard for him to dodge the ire of his club manager. Regardless, he dedicated most afternoons to helping you study.

You’d meet up in the library before practice and you’d always start with chemistry. He was actually kind of good at explaining the concepts to you in a way you understood, without all the bells and whistles. He had a way of simplifying the concepts to their bare bones. That’s not to say that it wasn’t difficult; you still felt like you’d been left far, far behind. But, Kuroo was something of a comfort.

Somehow, you’d end up working on other subjects. Apparently, Kuroo’s surprisingly bad at literature. He was doing well enough, but it was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. Maybe you’d been a bit gung-ho about offering your help, but you were just glad you finally had something to offer in this arrangement. Even though you were still managing the volleyball team, overwhelming as that could be sometimes.

But, you’d made a deal, and the whole manager business was less scary than you’d first thought. And you felt that with time, you’d get the hang of it. Maybe.

More often than not, your study session before practice wasn’t enough time to cover all the content you needed. So, sometimes, you’d continue it after practice, holed up in the library until you got kicked out. Kenma usually stuck with you guys, sitting in the corner with whatever game console he’d brought that day.

And without fail, Kuroo walked you all the way to your house every night. And during those walks, you talked. Rather animatedly.

“What I’m saying is that the divide between the arts and the sciences is arbitrary,” Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “When they work together, incredible things happen. Genuine art happens.” He cocked his head at you, that perceptive grin of his spread across his face. “You’d really disagree with me on that?”

“I didn’t say I disagree,” you grinned. “I’m just surprised that you’re not one of those sciencey people who thinks that the arts are worthless.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head. “Excuse you. I’ve got more nuance than that.”

“Sorry for doubting you,” you giggled.

“You better be.”

The thing you’d been most surprised about, above everything else, was just how enjoyable it was to talk to him. How easy it was to get lost in a conversation that most of your other friends might get bored by. It’s not that your other friends treated you badly, but Kuroo had a way of naturally drawing out your thoughts, and he usually treated them with enough respect to engage with them. Of course, there were times when he loved to tease, and you’d learnt to not take it too personally.

Kuroo Tetsurou was far more interesting than you’d first given him credit for. And you felt kind of bad for that. You’d known he wasn’t just some dumb jock – he wasn’t topping chemistry for nothing – but you hadn’t expected him to be so… clever. So playful. So fun to talk to.

You were beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was someone you could end up being quite close to.

✉

[YOU] 10:41 PM: hey, kuroo?

[Kuroo] 10:46 PM: what's up?

[YOU] 10:47 PM: i was just wondering, why did you ask me to become manager?

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: oh ahaha

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: i thought having an extra pair of hands around would help the coach out a bit

[YOU] 10:48 PM: wait really

[YOU] 10:48 PM: that's it?

[Kuroo] 10:50 PM: ??????

[YOU] 10:51 PM: you were so seedy about it!

[Kuroo] 10:51 PM: was i?

[YOU] 10:52 PM: i–

[Kuroo] 10:53 PM: :)

✧ ✧ ✧

“Kenma wants to quit.”

Your head shot up, turning to Kuroo with wide eyes. “What?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, one hand raking through his hair. “The third years have been giving him a really rough time.” He bit his lip, glancing at you. “You’ve seen it yourself.”

You swallowed. “I hoped I was just being too sensitive, but…”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand down his face. “They’re such assholes.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. The third years had almost made you want to quit in the early days. They were scary, sharp, unrelenting. But they’d left you alone pretty quickly once you’d settled into the thrum of your responsibilities.

Kenma hadn’t been so lucky.

“Is he okay?” You murmured, brows knitted together. “I mean, I know he’s getting picked on, but is he… is he… I don’t know…”

“I get it,” Kuroo sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk about that sort of stuff.”

You set your pen down on the dining table, shifting in your chair to face him directly.

Practice had been cancelled for the afternoon, and Kuroo had bustled you out of school before you even had a chance to ask why. You’d been surprised when he had asked if the two of you could study at your place that afternoon – and some part of you had dreaded what your parents might say about you bringing a boy home – but you’d conceded. He’d seemed stuck in his head; something not unusual for him, but he’d been just withdrawn enough to pique your concern.

This must’ve been why.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I don’t want to push him too hard or anything, but I don’t think he’s making the right choice.”

You bit your lip.

“Why?” You asked, feeling bold.

“Huh?”

“Tell me why you don’t want him to quit,” you said. “Other than the obvious.” You sat up a little straighter, grabbing your notebook and picking up your pen. “We can brainstorm together.”

“Other than the obvious?” He tilted his head at you.

“You know,” you shrugged. “I know you want him to stay around because he’s your best friend, but... there’s more to it, right?”

“Well…” Kuroo swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back in his chair. “We’re not gonna get very far without him.”

You scribbled that down quickly. “Why’s that?”

“He’s a good strategist,” Kuroo said carefully, “And he’s great at running through all the potential outcomes on the spot. And nobody on the team’s as observant as he is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you transcribed. You weren’t narcissistic enough to think you knew Kenma better than Kuroo did. Nor did you want to presume you were closer to the second-year than you actually were. But you wanted to help.

“Why don’t you… explain that to him?” You asked, peering down at your notebook.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… just tell him the logical reasons you want him to stick around,” you shrugged. “I think he’d respond well to that.”

“I guess…” Kuroo pursed his lips, looking at you with a frown.

“What I’m trying to say is that… maybe putting it into terms that’ll resonate with him is the best way to go.” You weren’t quite sure if your point was getting across. You just had to hope that he understood.

“I get you,” he nodded, crossing his arms. “I dunno if it’ll work though.”

“He’ll listen to you,” you mused, propping your hand on your chin.

“Huh?”

“It’s obvious you mean a lot to him,” you shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t really use his words to express that.”

Kuroo blinked at you, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

“I mean, he’s stuck it out with volleyball this long, hasn’t he?” You smiled at him, watching his cheeks grow even pinker. “That’s because of you.”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his lap. It was strange to see him so… speechless. He was the sort of person that always had a comeback. You were never able to get a one up on him. Sincerity, however, seemed to be his hamartia.

“I just… I wanna go as far as I can with this team,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, me and the other second years… when we first joined the team, we were asked about our goals.”

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “We all said that we wanted to win nationals.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling you all this. He didn’t know where it came from. But he knew he’s grateful to be able to just talk. To share this with someone.

“Yaku and I used to fight all the time,” he smiled sheepishly, casting his gaze at you.

“I can see that,” you giggled. There was always a little fire between the two of them; it’d given you a good laugh many times.

“It was kind of stupid, but… we got over it. We learned to work together,” Kuroo sighed.

“I feel bad for poor Kai,” you smiled.

Kuroo laughed. “Yeah…” He sighed as he leaned over the table, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Nekoma used to be hot shit, you know.”

“Did we?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Made it to nationals a couple of times. But, we sort of… fell off. We haven’t been as good as we could be for a while. And… I want to change that.”

He pressed his lips together, his brows furrowing. “We can’t do that if we don’t work together. And I know that sounds obvious, but… we need to focus on our teamwork more. We’ll only be great if we all learn to rely on and trust each other. We’ve gotta make the best use of all our strengths while covering our weaknesses.”

You nodded, making a little noise of agreement. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him. This side of Kuroo – this genuine, honest one – was quickly becoming your favourite.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, sitting up straight. “Didn’t mean to ramble at you there.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You shook your head. “Ramble all you’d like.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you for that, but he was smiling.

“Hey, Kuroo?” Normally, you wouldn’t have thought to ask the questions that were currently poking at the back of your mind. But he’d just been so honest, so open with you in a way he’d never been before. Maybe it was okay to be a little bit curious. Just this once.

“Hm?”

“I have a genuine question,” you said, folding your hands in your lap.

He looked at you, pouting a little.

“Why volleyball?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, brow creased ever so slightly. Usually, he’d just dodge a conversation like this; not because he was particularly embarrassed by it or anything like that, but because he didn’t want to talk about himself too much. He didn’t want to be rude and dominate the conversation.

But, you were asking. And, you seemed genuinely interested.

A little bit of sincerity wouldn’t hurt, right?

“My family moved here when I was pretty young,” he said, shrugging. “And I didn’t really… know how to make friends. Before I moved, I’d been part of a volleyball team. All my friends were on it, and… I had to move away from them.”

It was a little strange, trying to pull up all these memories. And trying to condense them was harder than he’d expected. “When I first met Kenma, we just played video games. I didn’t really… know how to talk to him. But he agreed to play volleyball with me, and that made things so much easier. I had something to talk about.”

You smiled to yourself, the image of a shy little Kuroo more endearing than it should be.

“I even convinced him to go to a weekend class with me,” he smiled, looking down. “You know, I even remember when I first met Coach Nekomata.”

“Huh?” You frowned.

“The old coach who used to work here. Rumour is he’ll come out of retirement sometime soon,” he smiled.

You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand.

We bumped into him at one of those classes,” Kuroo said. “He told me, ‘do what you love, and success will come.’ I still think about that.”

Do what you love, and success will come. Yeah, that definitely sounded like something that’d resonate with Kuroo.

“Anyway, I joined the team in middle school, and that made it a lot easier to make friends,” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know. I love volleyball. Have for as long as I can remember. It’s fun. And… it helped me connect with people, even when… even when I couldn’t find the right words.”

He looked at you, a bit more tentative than usual. But, you were smiling, your chin propped up on one of your palms as you listened to him talk.

“Believe it or not, but I was a really shy kid.” He didn’t know why he’s still talking. And honestly, he’s a little embarrassed by it. But, you’re still listening. And for that, he’s grateful.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you grinned.

His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”

“You think so much,” you mused, looking upwards. “But, like… in the way introverts do, you know?” You blushed, looking down at your hands. “Well, I mean… I tend to overthink everything I say, right?”

“No, really?” Kuroo gasped, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Shush,” you shot him a half-glare, suppressing the urge to stick your tongue out at him like a child. “It’s just that… I see a little bit of that in you, too. Not… massively, but it’s there.”

You couldn’t quite read his expression. It wasn’t one you’d seen before. And honestly, he wouldn’t know how to describe it himself. He was caught between the relief at being seen, at being understood, and the embarrassment of being called out. People didn’t tend to pick up on that part of him – and yet, you had.

He wasn’t used to being the one getting read.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I really didn’t mean to ramble so much.”

“Oi,” you giggled, “I said it’s fine, didn’t I?”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s nice that you care so much about the game.” You were smiling at him. Nothing unusual. But the look in your eyes was so genuine, so bright that he could feel his face burning up from looking at it.

“Yeah,” he smiled, breaking eye contact with you. God, he really didn’t know what to do in conversations like these. “Anyway, should we get back to chem?”

✉

[closet introvert] 9:22 PM: so

[YOU] 9:25 PM: so

[closet introvert] 9:25 PM: i think i’m gonna try to talk to kenma after school tomorrow

✧ ✧ ✧

If there was one thing you were fairly decent at as manager, it was looking after the first and second years. Bit by bit, you’d worked up an adequate rapport with each of them, and you had most of their personalities sorted out. Most importantly, you knew what to do when they were down.

You just had to let Yaku rant – let him shout and gripe and swear, and he’d be okay. Kai liked a constructive conversation, had in soft, measured tones, and offering a solution or two. Yamamoto wanted fire and conviction, a challenge to do better, to be better. Fukunaga liked a distraction, something to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Kenma liked to be left alone to sort things out for himself – but you were permitted to make him a care package or two.

You’d known Kuroo long enough by now to know that he was rather reticent when it came to his own feelings. He wasn’t the sort to talk about them upfront; you had to peer at the silences and the spaces between his words to find out what he really meant. You had to look at his behaviour; he was never too straightforward. That sort of thing seemed to overwhelm him.

That presented a bit of a problem. If he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he simply wouldn’t. He’d deflect the conversation, or downplay how he was feeling. Sometimes he gave you bits and pieces, but he rarely spilled his true thoughts and feelings. They were exceedingly difficult to draw out of him – he had to offer them up himself. And most of the time, he bounced back pretty quickly from his more melancholic moods on his own.

But not today.

Kuroo wasn’t exactly loud. At least, not in the same way Yamamoto was – or that rambunctious wing spiker from Fukurodani. It was well within Kuroo’s abilities to be obnoxious, but he wasn’t loud. But even for him, he was being uncharacteristically quiet today.

Practice had gone fine, as far as you could tell. Nothing had gone obviously wrong, and nobody had gotten injured. From your perspective, things had even gone well. Admittedly, your knowledge of volleyball didn’t run particularly deep just yet, but you were trying your best.

Kuroo was usually so bright after practice, always grinning or cackling at something despite his exhaustion. Half the time he’d point things out to you, explaining certain moves they’d practised or formations they were trying out.

But today, he’d just picked up his bag dourly, waiting at the door for you and Kenma to leave. He’d said very little on the walk to the train station when usually he’d be rambling about something or other. You and Kenma exchanged a look; he was just as concerned as you were.

And just like you, he didn’t know how to breach the conversation.

“So… how do they even work?” You asked, blinking down at Kenma’s DS screen.

You couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. And you knew that a sure-fire way to get Kenma talking was by asking him about video games – especially optimization.

“EVs are gained by defeating specific Pokemon,” Kenma murmured. “If you defeat a Pokemon with naturally high HP like Chansey, you’ll gain EVs towards your own HP. However, you can only gain 252 EV’s towards any one stat.”

You nodded, opting to let him ramble. Usually, Kuroo would’ve led the conversation between the three of you. But, you’d valiantly taken that task up yourself today – and the easiest way to help things go smoothly was to get Kenma on a roll.

“You can gain a maximum of five-hundred and twelve total, so realistically you can only optimise two stats at a time,” he continued, eyes still glued to his screen. You took a moment to glance at Kuroo. He was staring out the window of the train, his expression worryingly forlorn. Was he even listening?

“IVs are a Pokemon’s innate capabilities.” Kenma was still going. You made an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, nodding. “A Pokemon with a high attack IV will have a naturally higher attack stat than a Pokemon with a low attack IV, even at the same level.”

On the one hand, it was nice to know that Kenma was comfortable enough with you to ramble like this. It was also nice to see Kenma talking freely; a rare and precious sight.

On the other hand, it just made you more stressed about Kuroo. He hadn’t breathed a word the entire ride. He hadn’t even taken a moment to gaze fondly at Kenma while he was rambling. And he always did that when Kenma was on a roll.

You managed to ask enough questions to fill the distance to Kenma’s house. He was speaking more than usual. That much was obvious, yes – but even for a Kenma that was geeking out, this was unusual.

And with the way his gaze kept flicking to Kuroo, you knew it was because he was truly, deeply concerned.

Kuroo still made somewhat of an effort to say goodbye to Kenma, despite his mood. The usual “make sure you don’t go to sleep too late, okay?” and “make sure you drink enough water, so you don’t get a headache.”

But before Kenma walked through his front door, he looked at you. And when you looked back, he held eye contact. Then he looked very pointedly at Kuroo, who was staring up at the sky. By the time you turned to look at Kenma again, he was already scurrying through his front door.

“You ready?” Kuroo asked, now looking at you.

You nodded, half-jogging to join him on the street. Even today, even when it seemed like he just wanted to go home and sleep, he was still walking you home. Sure, your house wasn’t all that far from his, but he still went out of his way every night, just to make sure you felt comfortable.

That quiet thoughtfulness was part of who he was. You’d seen him direct it at Kenma all the time.

The same Kenma who’d just sent you a silent plea.

The Kenma, who never looked you in the eyes for longer than half a second.

The Kenma, who had just asked you to speak to his best friend.

That was all the push you needed.

“Hey, Kuroo?” You murmured.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Kuroo looked at you, one eyebrow raised. He was torn.

Should he really burden you with this? Was it right for him to worry you again?

But you’re looking at him with such genuine concern, such genuine care. And the advice you’d given him when he was worried about Kenma had been both helpful and effective. And surely, you wouldn’t have asked that question if you didn’t want a proper answer, right?

Fuck it, he thought.

“I feel like I’m not measuring up,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My blocking hasn’t been improving. And I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to work on my read blocking but I just can’t get it down. I can’t even fix the problem because I don’t know what the problem is.”

He took a deep breath, his steps slowing to a stop. “I convinced Kenma to stay on, but I’m not a team-mate he can be proud of.”

“Kuroo…”

You looked at him, cloaked in the shadows of the street. His gaze was cast at the ground, his brow furrowed and the smallest of pouts on his lips. You wanted to hug him, but you weren’t sure if that’d help.

You didn’t quite know what to say. You knew what it was like to get caught up in your own insecurities – you were sure most people did. You knew he couldn’t see himself the way you saw him; tenacious, hard-working, passionate.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. No, that was too soft – too wishy-washy. “I know that it… seems kind of silly for me to say, but you are.”

You clenched your fists to steel yourself, taking a step closer to him. That got his attention – he looked up at you, eyes slightly wide.

“You feel like you’re not measuring up, or that you’re not improving… but I don’t see it that way.” It was true. You watched him push himself harder each and every day, improving little by little. And when he wasn’t, he’d learn from those mistakes.

“It must be easy to lose yourself on the court, but from where I’m standing… you’re improving every day.” Your eyes searched his face, looking for any indication that your words were having some kind of impact.

“And… you don’t need to be the world’s best middle blocker, you know?” You said, tilting your head at him. “You’re good, Kuroo. And you know you’ve got space to improve – that’s your strength. That makes you a team-mate worth being proud of.”

He was staring at you, eyes still wide. The dim light of the street hid the blush on his cheeks. For that, he was thankful.

“Uh…” He felt like he should say something. But he didn’t quite know what. ‘Thank you’ would’ve been the natural response, but those words just wouldn’t come.

“Sorry,” you blushed, your nerves finally catching up with you as you looked away from him. “I didn’t mean to… push your boundaries or anything like that, but… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

Had you overstepped his boundaries? Had you made him uncomfortable? Those questions plagued you for the rest of the way home, Kuroo still quiet and reticent at your side.

You hadn’t overstepped his boundaries at all. Kuroo just couldn’t find the right words, even as you closed the distance to your house.

In all honesty, he’s touched. Touched that you cared so much. Touched that you reached out, even though he could tell how nervous you were. Touched that you were paying that much attention.

As he walked through the door of his own home, he couldn’t get the image of you looking up at him so resolutely out of his head.

He’d have to thank some deity above for the fact you were bad at chemistry, wouldn’t he?

✉

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: hey so uh

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: i just wanted to say thanks

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: for listening to me be all emotional like that

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: i put a lot on you but you were really nice about it

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: so yeah

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: thanks

[YOU] 10:59 PM: NO! DON’T APOLOGISE!

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: !?!?!?!

[YOU] 11:00 PM: honestly, i don’t mind! and i’m happy to listen :(

[YOU] 11:00 PM: i’m here if you need to talk to anyone, okay?

[japan’s okayest tutor] 11:04 PM: you too

✧ ✧ ✧

You were alone.

Your sobs were the only sound fracturing the fragile silence of the empty gym as you slumped against the wall, your knees brought up to your chest.

Why did you have to fuck up so bad? You’d managed to survive your first year with no drama, the only cause of concern being your studies. They were overwhelming enough to deal with on their own. You’d certainly felt down about your grades and whatnot before, but those ruts were a little easier to pull yourself out of. ‘They’re just grades,’ you’d try and tell yourself. ‘You can improve next time. And they don’t define you as a person.’ Even if you didn’t quite believe any of that, it was nice to have some rhetoric to at least attempt to counteract those thoughts.

But now? Now you truly felt alone. Like no-one cared about you.

You felt like you deserved it. Like anyone who cared about you was wasting their time. Like you were taking up their time and attention undeservedly.

It was all too overwhelming.

The pain choked you. Every thought, every feeling you’d been trying to fend off for so long ripped through you like an arrow.

Fuck, why couldn’t you just hold yourself together? Why did you have to be so weak?

You let go. And you cried. And cried. And cried.

The sound shattered the vacuous silence of the gym. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, letting your sobs rack through your body.

Your throat was sore.

Your eyes stung.

You were alone.

And you deserved it.

“Woah.”

You froze. You knew that voice.

“Hey.” Kuroo knelt in front of you, his hands finding their way to your forearms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He was knelt in front of you, eyebrows knitted together as his eyes roamed your face.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Shit, why was he here? Why hadn’t he just headed home?

You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You didn’t want to worry them.

Kuroo’s arms found their way around you, coaxing you gently towards his chest. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest.

Fuck, that didn’t help at all. Your sobs came with more voracity, rawer and harsher than they had been.

He just held you, chin propped on your head and one hand rubbing your back. He didn’t say anything; he knew you didn’t need that right now. He knew that in moments like this, it was nice just to be held. To feel like someone’s there.

And then slowly, breath by breath, everything seemed to calm. Your sobs grew softer and softer against his chest, his gentle hums setting a new rhythm for your fractured mind. He was grounding you; each touch, each sound was an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You could tell it wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, crouched awkwardly in front of you while holding you to his chest, but he stayed.

He stayed until your breathing had levelled out, and your grip on his shirt had loosened.

“There you go,” Kuroo murmured, letting you go. He shifted to sit next to you, and you immediately missed his warmth. You found a little comfort as he looped an arm around your shoulder.

You took a long, shaky breath. You weren’t sure how long you’d keep it together for, but you were glad for the reprieve.

“What are you doing here?” You sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have made him worry about you.

“You didn’t show up for our little study session,” he said, eyebrows knitted together. “I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. And I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Shit. You’d forgotten to tell him you’d ‘headed home early.’

“I was worried about you,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You swallowed roughly, the guilt bubbling up in your chest.

“I’m sorry–”

“No.” Kuroo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. If you need to get it out, you need to get it out.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. Your knuckles blanched pale as you clenched the fabric of your skirt.

“And,” he swallowed, “if you need to talk to someone… I’m here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt everything rush back. The fight. The loneliness. The insomnia.

Kuroo didn’t need to hear this. And you didn’t want to burden him with this.

But God, you needed to talk to someone.

“I- I had an argument with Hana,” you sniffed, fingers playing with the hem of your jacket.

You could barely remember how it started. Something stupid, probably. Something immature. But it had blown way out of proportion, and she wasn’t speaking to you anymore. You’d been spending your lunchtimes alone, behind the gym or in an empty classroom. You didn’t have the strength to face the rest of your friends, nor did you know what she’d been telling them.

It had struck at the worst possible time, too. The usual anxieties about grades and the future had been compounding recently. You’d been a bit more down than usual, and this whole Hana debacle had exacerbated that. You were usually able to manage feelings like this, finding ways to keep your head above water.

But not this time.

“I just,” you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “I just feel like something’s missing. And, and I’m… there’s… there’s this gap in my heart, and I don’t know how to stop feeling so empty.”

You took a deep breath, feeling it tremble through your body. “But… but I also just feel so numb.”

And all of it, even the numbness, was overwhelming. No matter how desperately you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t. Nothing worked. You’d lost too many nights sitting at the bottom of your shower, letting the water run down your back as your mind ran in the same repeating circles.

You were exhausted.

“And part of me,” you swallowed, your throat rough and dry as your emotions tried to hammer themselves into something coherent. “Part of me feels like… like it’s wrong to feel like this.”

God, that felt stupid. Stupid, but true. On top of everything, you felt defunct.

And frankly, you couldn’t say why. Was it shame? Guilt? Something else?

“Hey.” Kuroo’s voice was low, almost soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna feel what you’re gonna feel,” he murmured, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that, okay?”

He felt you tremble as you tried to take a deep breath.

He knew that your pain wasn’t a one-to-one reflection of his own. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to understand exactly what you were going through.

But he knew what it was like to be a small child, so afraid, so alone, without an understanding of what was really going on around him.

He knew what it was like to feel as if something was missing, like there was a constant gap in your heart. He’d felt that way when his parents had split up. He’d only been a kid, too young to properly comprehend why that had been happening.

All he had known was that his family had crumbled to pieces around him. And then his mother was gone, half a world away with little more than a kiss on his forehead as a goodbye. He hadn’t been ready for it. He had felt like he might never be.

That feeling of separation had followed him, even into his teen years. It was quieter now, a half-whisper on the bad days. Usually, he could ignore it, setting his mind to more productive concerns. But, it never quite disappeared.

Kuroo knew what it was like to be lonely.

And he hated seeing you go through the exact same thing.

Lonely. Afraid. Probably hoping that someone, somewhere, would acknowledge your pain.

That was the worst part. Wanting your suffering to be known. Wanting someone to look at all of it, to see it for what it was. But no matter how palpable that desire was, how desperately you wanted it, it was too terrifying. To speak up was to be a burden. To speak up was to expose yourself to pity; and that was always the last thing you needed.

Pity’s useless. All you were asking for, all you really wanted was understanding. Acknowledgment. To have someone see.

He knew exactly what that was like.

“You, uh…” The sentiment caught in his throat, somehow both persistent and reticent.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

They were the very words he’d wished someone had said to him all those years ago. The words he’d wanted someone to offer him, a child who didn’t know how to reach out. To cry out for help.

And in that moment, with his arms around the manager who had looked after him and his boys so well, Kuroo felt that call.

✉

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: hey

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: how are you feeling?

[YOU] 8:45 PM: alright

[YOU] 8:45 PM: i ate dinner and i’ve just been watching youtube

[YOU] 8:46 PM: and i’ve been drinking a lot of water

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: i’m glad to hear that

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: make sure you get an early night, yeah?

[YOU] 8:47 PM: i’ll try

[passable at best] 8:47 PM: and if you need anything, please text me

✧ ✧ ✧

"Come to the temple with me."

The surprise was evident on your face. You’re glad he couldn’t see you. "What… just us?"

"Yeah." There's a pause. An almost painful one. "I couldn't get Kenma to leave the house, so…"

You pretended you weren’t disappointed. If anyone could see you, they wouldn't be convinced.

"Oh, well, uh…" Your fists curled into your nightgown. "Sure."

"Great!" You could hear the smile in his voice. It's the one you like best; full of sunlight, pure and whole. The one that reached his eyes. "I'll, uh… see you at eight?"

Usually, if someone had called you at seven-thirty in the morning, you would've simply ignored them. But when you’d seen that it was him, you’d answered immediately. The lack of hesitation was almost frightening.

There was no reason that your fondness for a certain Kuroo Tetsurou should scare you. You just knew that you adored the guy. In less than a year, he’d become one of your favourite people. And, he’d been such a solid support for you. Of course you’d go to the temple with him.

But as you stood at the temple steps, swallowed up by a coat and two jumpers, you wondered if anyone was worth being this cold for.

“Sorry I’m late.”

You glared up at him, nose embarrassingly red.

“What?” He groaned, hands dug deep in his pockets.

“It’s cold.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Hey,” he grinned, reaching up and ruffling your hair with a gloved hand. “You could’ve said no.”

You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Well, I’m touched,” he chuckled, looking up at the sky. “It’s a nice morning, though.” He looked back down at you with a grin. He was far too peppy for this hour of the morning. “You ready?”

The walk up the steps was almost laborious, given just how cold it was. Your breath misted in front of you as you told each other about your first dreams of the year; he’s still regaling a tale about Kenma turning into a dragon with five heads and chasing him through the streets of Tokyo by the time you reach the fortunes.

You tried to shake off the superstitious jitters as you carefully chose one of the knots on the string. Kuroo showed much less care.

As you read the fortune written out on your strip, you let out a surreptitious sigh of relief. You looked at Kuroo, tilting your head.

“What’d you get?” You sniffled. You hoped you wouldn’t get a cold from this.

“Bad luck,” he said, turning the strip towards you.

You snorted. “Oh, ow.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression said otherwise; it was that half-grimace he had whenever he didn’t want to admit he was wrong. Or that Bokuto had done something cool.

“Really?” You grinned, tilting your head at him. “You’re not bothered by it at all?”

“Alright, what did you get then?” He peered down at you, puffing out his chest.

“A little luck.” You held your strip towards him, and he scowled.

“Bad luck’s more exciting,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be mad about it,” you smiled, nudging him with your elbow. “God just likes me more.”

“Oi,” he huffed, ruffling your hair with a cold hand.

“Hey!” You wacked his hand away, but he just cackled.

“Anyway, you’ve forgotten the most important part of a temple visit,” he yawned, looking back at the fortunes lined up on the strings.

“Hm?” You frowned.

"You gotta make a promise," he sniffled, his fortune scrunched up in his hand.

You pouted, your hands dug deep in your pockets. A promise, huh? Did he mean a wish? You weren’t about to argue the point. He’d win it, anyway.

“You go first,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed by the fact that nothing was coming to mind.

He paused, staring at you for a moment. You squinted back, perhaps half as a challenge.

"Hm," Kuroo puffed his cheeks out, looking up at the sky for a moment. "I promise… to always be there for you. No matter what."

You blushed. What sort of promise was that? And why did it make you feel like… this?

Thwump!

You were only half aware of it as you punched him in the stomach.

“What was that for?” He wheezed, hands clamped on his stomach as he stumbled back a few steps.

“You can’t say things like that!” You whined, feeling the colour in your cheeks growing deeper.

“Why not?” There was something a little too genuine in his frown.

“Because I was going to say something really lame!” It was only eight-thirty in the morning, and Kuroo had already worked his way under your skin. And you weren’t entirely sure he’d meant to. “If I knew you were gonna say something like that, I’d’ve said it back.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You still can, you know.”

“Oh.” Yeah. You could.

That was all he needed. In an instant, that familiar grin was once again adorning his face, and he was towering over you. A little closer than maybe was appropriate.

“Is that… a blush I see?” Oh, he looked far too pleased with himself. You had half a mind to punch him again.

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“Aw, have I made you all embarrassed?” He grinned, ruffling your hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spoiled by his fake pout.

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t say it,” you threatened, glaring at him as resolutely as you could. The weird twang in your chest made it more difficult than it usually was.

He shut his mouth immediately, eyes a little bigger and much more expectant than usual.

“Kuroo Tetsurou–”

“Are you about to propose?”

“You know what? Nevermind–”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry!” His shoulders were slouched towards you, head tilted to the side and a bright smile on his face. “I’ll shut up.”

You took a deep breath. It certainly felt a bit like you were trying to propose to him. You shuffled that thought out of your mind as quickly as you could. Once again, Kuroo had put you in a situation you hadn’t quite anticipated.

“No matter what comes, and no matter how irritating you are–”

“Hey!”

“–I promise that I’ll be there to support you,” you managed to say, cheeks flaring and fists clenched. “I… really care about you.”

You couldn’t bear the look he was giving you. It was the look you’d give something you positively adored – something you believed would bring nothing but light to your life. It was a look so full of affection that you felt like you might shatter beneath it.

He reached out and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you gently into his chest. You snuck your arms under his jacket, circling them around his waist. You’d done it mostly on instinct, but you weren’t upset about it. It’s warm, and it’s nice, and you didn’t want to question it.

There’s too much to worry about – studies, volleyball, the fact that it’s really not all that long until you’re third years. That took precedence. Whatever’s going on here – whatever this was – couldn’t take priority.

All you knew for certain was that you loved Kuroo Tetsurou. In what way didn’t matter. And this in-between, this unnamed space was comfortable. And, as far as you could tell, it belonged to both of you. If he didn’t want to say anything about it, then neither did you.

✉

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: hey hey

[YOU] 5:21 PM: hey hey hey!

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: no don’t do that

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: anyway, i just wanted to make sure you’re practicing appropriate after-cold care

[YOU] 5:21 PM: why do you always have to phrase things Like That

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: no idea what you’re talking about

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: anyway, drink a tea or two, stick a heat pack (or seven) in the microwave, and rug up

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: can’t have you going and catching a cold

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuuwritersnet #once again what are tags #i didn't want to cut this up but it got Too Long i'm so sorry #n e way hope you like it??#the in between

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crystalas · 3 years ago

Text

Medical Muddles

Medical muddles

More of the Demon Bull Divorce AU, another one shot wherein Tang gets a phone call from a panicked Mei about an exploded truck and Red Son needing the hospital. Red Son blurts out a few secrets in the process…

also send me prompts if you want more of the Demon Bull Divorce

Tang was sitting in his study at the university when he got the call from Mei, from what he managed to decipher from Mei’s panicked ramblings is that he needed to get to the garage and fast. Red Son and Mei had been working on the Noodle Truck while Pigsy and MK were at a Food Hygiene training course [she mentions something about installing a nitro and Tang made a note to tell Pigsy before he drove it again.] She had gotten a phone call from her dad and left the garage to answer it, luckily, she had managed to turn a corner when there was a massive explosion that shook the building besides her. She had found the truck’s fiery remains, a decimated garage and Red Son slumped against the far wall.

To be fair at this moment during the call Tang wasn’t that worried. He had seen Red Son take a jet bike to the face and only be temporarily stunned, heck he had seen on live TV the fire demon being ejected from a high speeding racing car onto the road and walk it off! Blunt force trauma was nothing the demon couldn’t handle. But Mei quickly swept away that peace of mind when she continued to tell him how Red Son had been impaled through the shoulder to the wall by a large piece of shrapnel. He told her to keep calm and wait for him and by no means call an ambulance!

By the time Tang had gotten there Mei was freaking out, she hadn’t mentioned the blood! It was splattered all around garage wall and the guilty piece of metal laid on the floor coated in it. Red Son was passed out and Mei was clinging to him trying to put pressure on the wound.

“Mei what happened? You know better than to remove objects from wounds like that!” Tang cried as he rushed over.

“It wasn’t me!” she squeaked as he checked him over “I was keeping him conscious when he just muttered something how he needed to get on with clearing this up and just yanked it out!”

Tang checked him over, he had cuts and scratches all over and the smaller ones where quickly healing, it was big ones that he was worried about. Red Son may have demonic healing abilities but even he could bleed out it seems.

“Help me get him into the car, we need to get him to Sandy’s” Tang declared as he tied the fabric Mei had been using tighter onto Red Son’s shoulder, the demon muttered something incoherent as they dragged him to Tang’s small city car.

“Hang on…Sandy’s?!” Mei asked “We need to get him to a hospital!”

“Trust me a hospital would only complicate things!” Tang declared as he drove off with Mei in the back with Red Son keeping him steady as Tang drove like a mad man through the streets, “He’s a demon remember? They don’t do well with purified water and saline would be the first thing they try and pump into him, not to mention blood types, physiology and all sort of other complications.”

Tang couldn’t help but remember the time Pigsy had cut himself badly while in the kitchen; if he remembered right Pigsy was trying to show off his vegetable dicing skills and it had gone very wrong with a deep gash on his hand. Tang had rushed him to A&E only for the nurse on duty to give him a look and told him that the veterinary clinic was two blocks away. This was twenty years ago mind you but it still put a bad taste in his mouth when he thought about it.

They got to Sandy who Mei had been called on the way there, he was ready and waiting for his patient when they skidded to a halt on the peer. Sandy wasted no time quickly tending to red Son’s wounds and applying medical balms and applying bandages and gauzes, giving Red Son a small cup of syrupy tea to help with the pain. Mei hovered close by and watched how Sandy worked with practised ease.

“Don’t worry Mei Red Son will be fine, he just needed a little help this time that’s all” Sandy declared once he was done “He’ll be up and about in…”

Red Son stirred and sat up groggily.

“Well right about now it seems” Sandy amended, Red Son looked around blearily before smiling at Tang and waving weakly.

“Heeeey Mr Tang…” he slurred “why do you smell like beetles and gold? And why does that make me hungry?”

“Red Son, how are you feeling?” Tang asked and sat in front of him who wobbled slightly as he tried to focus on the scholar before giving a happy smile.

“It’s so weird that you smell like that…oh hey Mr Tang, I feel fiiiiine!”

“Sandy? Is this normal?” Mei inquired looking at the gentle blue giant, he coughed nervously.

“I may have given him a bit too much pain relief…” he muttered.

“Dragon Horse girl!” Red Son cried happily and beckoned her over, “Great you’re here we need to get moving!” Red Son struggled to get up but failed due to his injuries.

“Red you need to keep still” Mei said gently as Tang pushed him back into the bed.

“No, no, no, no I need to get back to work on the truck!” Red Son declared “Pigsy can’t know I messed up; we need to fix it before he gets back!”

All three exchanged a look of disbelief, Red Son was pale and clearly not thinking straight. Mei knelt down in front of Red Son’s bedside so she could look him in the eye.

“Red the truck is totally trashed” she said slowly as if she was talking to a small child “there’s nothing we can do right now so why don’t you just rest for now…”

“Trashed? That means I need to work quicker!” he stated and wiggled out of bed but his legs gave out before he could even take a step and Mei caught him before he could collapse on the floor. “Maybe I could find a transmutation spell! I mean if noodle boy can do it with a stick I can do it with fire magic, Com’on dragon horse girl I need to get moving!”

“Red you nearly bled out, you need to rest!” she tried again but Red Son shook his head and was becoming distressed. Mei helped him back onto the bed but he just curled up gripping his hair with his good hand.

“I’m trying so hard this time!” he whimpered “I’m trying so hard and I’m still screwing up!”

“Red…”

“I can’t afford to mess up this time!” he cried out tears now pricking his eyes, “I have no where else to go! I don’t want to stop playing pretend!”

That last bit got the three’s attention and Tang could see Mei bristle angrily as she grabbed Red by the unharmed hand to get his attention.

“What do you mean ‘play pretend’?” she demanded, “This better not be some long con you and your parents cooked up to get us to lower our guard!”

“I wanna keep pretending that you guys like having me around” Red Son whimpered “I like it when you guys listen to me and pretend that I’m doing a good job…I know it’s only a matter time before you guys get sick of me and want me gone…I…I just don’t want that to end…I don’t want to go back to feeling alone and despised all the time…” at this Red Son broke down into tears. Mei’s suspicious anger dwindled away as she tried to console the now sobbing demon boy.

Tang glanced at Sandy who gestured at his kitchen, he gave a nod and Sandy went to go make some sleepy time tea. Tang was angrier at himself than anything now, he had hoped his experience with helping MK through his issues would have given him a sort of template to help Red Son through his. He had assumed that because Red Son hadn’t been showing any ill signs like MK had when helping him deal with his family and abandonment issues that Red Son was coping with it all. That clearly wasn’t the case and he now realised where he had made a very foolish mistake on his part.

MK had only a few years to build up his emotional walls and learn how to put on a façade, Red Son had centuries to work on his. After all it had taken him and Pigsy weeks to notice how much Red Son was reluctant to go home or the faded bruises.

Sandy came back with the tea and handed it to Tang to give to Red Son so not to crowd the already upset boy, the poor demon looked up at him forlornly as he approached.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered “Please don’t hate me…”

“I don’t hate you Red Son, none of us do” he said tenderly as he gave him the tea to drink “I’m more upset by the fact it’s taken nothing short of you loosing a couple of pints of blood and being off your head on pain killers for you to be emotionally honest with us.”

“I’m sorry…I’ll try not to mess up anymore…” Red Son mumbled.

“Just drink this and try to rest, ok? We’ll talk more when you wake up.” Tang exclaimed Red Son downed the tea before flopping back onto the bed, his eyes fluttered shut and soon he was asleep.

Red woke up slowly his shoulder hurting like a bitch along with other body parts. Red Son and pain were old acquaintances at this point so he took note of what might need attention as he tried to move his aching limbs; he attempted to recollect what happened.

He was working on the Noodle Truck; Mei was there he remembered that because they were discussing the logistics of installing a nitro into the truck. He was doing some routine maintenance while checking where improvements could be made when Mei got a phone call, he had begun to check the oil levels when he heard her answer the call.

“Hey dad! How’s things?”

That innocent question struck a chord in Red Son that made his heart clenched painfully and then he did something he hadn’t done in what seemed like centuries…he lost control of his powers. Before he could even think about it flames licked up around his body and normally that wouldn’t have been issue had he not been currently working near flammable liquids.

There was an explosion and he remembered being thrown against a wall from the blast, aching agony erupted down his spine followed by several sharp pains across his body the biggest one in his shoulder. His ears were ringing as he saw Mei rush up to him calling to him through what felt like walls of cotton wool. He saw the truck…oh god what a mess he needed to fix that before Pigsy saw it…he tried to get up and only then saw the large chunk of metal pinning him to the wall.

Mei tried to fight him as he grabbed the metal and tore it out, by the gods that hurt but he needed to get moving, there was work to be done and besides this wasn’t the first time he had done this. However, when he tried to cauterize the wound shut Mei was putting her hands over it with her jacket and getting in the way. He didn’t want to burn her by accident but she wouldn’t let go of him… he didn’t remember what happened after that because things got very fuzzy very quickly.

His last thoughts before he blacked out was that he needed to remember to grab a mop there was messy puddles splattered all over the place…

He finally opened his eyes and looked around and saw Pigsy sitting next to his bed, wait how did he get here? Oh crap Pigsy was here! He hadn’t fixed the truck!

Pigsy glanced down at him and noticed he was awake, Red Son felt his gaze burn into his skull.

“How you feeling?” the pig man asked gruffily “Heard you got hurt badly”

“I’m fine!” Red Son blurted “I’ll be up and moving in no time, don’t you worry demons heal fast…” he sat up and tried to move he wobbled but stayed up straight. “I’ll get back to work now okay?”

“Sit back down!” Pigsy barked and Red Son looked at him annoyed to be ordered around but saw that look of displeasure and sat back down. Cold dread now filled Red Son’s chest, he hadn’t fixed the truck he had left a huge mess and Pigsy was obviously mad at him. But if he was going to get punished then he was going to at least face it like the demon prince he was.

“My apologies, as soon as I am able I will repair the…” he started but Pigsy just glared at him even more angrily.

“You seriously think I’m worried about the truck?!” he snapped “Tang told me what happened! You had been skewered and nearly bled to death!”

“Oh…” Red Son stuttered.

“Don’t worry about the truck, MK has trashed and reassembled that thing so many times I’ve lost count.” he explained,

“So…you’re not mad?” Red Son ventured softly.

“Listen Red, I’m more upset about the fact that you are more concerned about a freaking hunk of junk than your own health!” he explained.

“So, I can stay?” came the quiet reply.

“You thought I was gonna chuck you out because of this? Red if I did that MK would have been out on his butt several times over!” Pigsy explained “What matters is that you’re ok, you really scared us there”

“You’re really not mad at me?” Red Son asked again, the idea that he wasn’t getting punished for this wasn’t quite sinking in yet.

“No, I’m not mad and I’m not going to kick you out or punish you or whatever else messed up thing you got cooked up in your head!” Pigsy declared “What we will be doing is talking about this idea you got that your place in this family is based solely on what work you can do, cos it ain’t! you’re a good kid Red you don’t need to keep proving your value, you need to be able to see that we care despite what you can or can’t do…”

Red Son was looking down at his fists that clench and unclenched at the blankets on the bed. Pigsy was worried for a second that none of that had sunk in and if anything he might have made things worse somehow until he heard a hoarse whisper.

“You said…This family…” Red Son repeated so quietly “I have a place in this family? You really want me around?”

“Yes!” he sighed happily and put his hand on Red Son’s arm. “Yes we do!”

#monkie kid red son #red son #monkie kid pigsy #tang being a good father figure #demon bull divorce AU #lmk mei

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

The Cowboy - Part 4

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) --- there’s a bit of angst in this part

Word count: 2078

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“That was delicious, thank you!”

“I hope you have room in your stomach for apple crumble,” Mr Jung said, leaning across the table towards you. “June is a mighty fine cook but an even greater baker.”

“The reason he married me, so he says.”

You smiled warmly, enjoying the banter between the pair. Their love for one another was evident. You hadn’t seen such a genuine display of affection in years. The city had jaded your parents and kept them looking for the next big project instead of cosy nights curled up together.

They’re professionals, you reminded yourself when you felt a sense of sadness for your parents. They don’t have time like they do out here.

“Were the heifers put into the bottom field?”

You had almost forgotten Jaehyun was sitting at your side until he cleared his throat then, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, I moved them this morning.”

“By yourself?”

“You had Caleb up in the high fields with you and Avery was otherwise preoccupied with someone,” he continued, and you felt eyes boring into the side of your head on the latter half of the conversation.

You smiled brightly. “It must take a lot of people to run such a big ranch like yours, Mr Jung.”

“We make do with the help we have.”

“We could do with three more men,” Jaehyun muttered, and you looked at him, pausing in saying anything in response when you noticed the dark look within the elder’s eyes.

Blayne was under-populated. You already knew this from the basic land per capita estimates online and in the business proposal for Blayne’s development. If more jobs were created here, then the farms that were struggling would be able to hire more help.

But Blayne also lacked housing. It would need to supply appropriate accommodation for new workers. You stewed over the thought of how many changes would be needed to not only make Blayne easily accessible but also improve the existing community until a dessert plate was placed in front of you.

Blinking out of your reverie, you beamed up at June. “I cannot wait to try it!”

After dinner, you thanked both your hosts generously. “I’ve not had a home-cooked meal quite as tasty as that before.”

“Your mother?” June enquired.

“She’s a professor at the School of Commerce.”

“Ah, she would have been too busy to make meals a priority.”

“It’s okay! I admire her for her work ethic. She’s taught me a lot. Both my parents have always been busy, but that’s how it is in the city.”

“Busy people don’t often see the bigger picture. I can tell by how eager you were to take up the position out here,” Mr Jung mentioned gruffly and you nodded despite his expression. “A woman of marrying age coming up here all alone is usually unheard of.”

“Perhaps Blayne will leave an impression on Y/N, honey.” June offered, patting her husband’s lower arm fondly. She then smiled at you. “You seem quite confident.”

“I’m hopeful I can make a positive change here,” you stated, your own smile fading when you heard a scoff, and then feet moving across the gravel behind you. Darting your focus to the disappearing man that had been waiting nearby, you looked back at his parents. “Thank you again!”

“We’ll have you over anytime, sugar!”

Turning on your heel, you took the pathway that Jaehyun had just departed down, finding him strapping up the horse that had brought you here earlier in the evening. You stopped near his side, frowning at his efforts. “Should you be asking the horse to work again?”

Jaehyun looked in your direction before returning his gaze back to his efforts, not answering your question.

“Your mother said it was too dark to ride last night. Shouldn’t we take the truck since the moon is now up in the sky?” you prompted, shifting your eyes to the heavens. You gasped in awe. “Wow, I’ve never seen such a clear night sky before!”

“Pollution inhibits that,” Jaehyun explained curtly, yanking on a strap and tightening it into place.

“It’s so beautiful out here, though. It’s a shame not many people have experienced it outside of a postcard.”

“Why don’t you save the speech for someone who is interested?”

“Excuse me?” Staring back at the man beside you, you tilted your head to the side. “You’re awfully moody tonight, Mr Cowboy.”

“Back to that name, huh?”

“Well, since you’re feeling a little cold towards me, I don’t know if it’s my place to call you by your first name,” you explained. Jaehyun didn’t respond again, and you sighed. “What did I do wrong?”

“Are you always this self-centred? Can’t you see the bigger picture than the goal inside your head?” Jaehyun questioned, sliding his hands onto his hips and finally facing you. He looked you over again, much as he had earlier when he first saw you as he jumped down from the wagon. Instead of the kindness you had experienced then, it was laced with scrutiny this time. You lowered your gaze to your outfit and stepped back.

“Hey…” you started, and then squared your jaw.

Just who was this guy to act so blunt with you? You should have stuck with believing he was the rude and full of assumptions jerk just as you had thought of him earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the fresh air and gentleness of the wagon ride that had softened your heart to him somehow. You should have known better to trust in your instincts.

Turning on your heel, you started walking down the drive towards the field you had travelled across from your place to the main homestead on this land. You didn’t get far before a hand reached out and yanked on your forearm roughly. “What are you doing?!”

“Going home!”

“Oh, is that so? Through a darkened field? See, this is why you belong in the city, Y/N. You have no idea about the dangers of a working farm. You’re used to living in tiny apartments and navigating mazes of streets and buildings and-”

“I didn’t come here to have you tell me what you think about me, Jaehyun.”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. But you did come out here all alone with zero understanding of how the country works. You’re here to change how we are? What a joke. You have no concept of what Blayne is about. You’ve not even stopped to take the time to listen to those around you. Instead, you’re dreaming up something big that none of us wants. Can’t you tell that? We might be showing you some country hospitality right now, but don’t go thinking people want you here.”

“That’s incredibly evident, don’t you worry,” you bit back, shaking his grip off your arm.

Jaehyun ran an agitated hand through his hair before looking at you again. “I’ll take you home. Come on.”

“I’m good with directions. I’ll take myself back.”

“What you see during the day changes at night around here. Hate me all you like, but I’ll take you home so I don’t have to worry about you falling in an open drain pipe.”

You opened your mouth to refute the offer, but the image he had painted was enough for you to silently march back over to the wagon. Jaehyun checked everything over again and jumped up into the seat, his hand reaching down to help you up.

Stubbornly, you ignored it and heaved yourself into the seat.

The ride back home was silent, and you preferred it that way. After the outburst in the field, you had little to say to the man. You were grateful he seemed compliant of such silence and didn’t offer any conversation from his behalf either. All the same, you were somewhat holding out for an apology.

You gained none, however.

Leaping down from the wagon, you merely tipped your head as Jaehyun did in farewell and then headed inside without a single word. You watched as the wagon disappeared thereafter, and finally, let out a string of incoherent cursing and annoyance.

You blew a strand of hair away from your face and glowered out the window. “God, I hate him.”

When the morning rose, you got up with a new plan in place. The night before, you had spent the first part of it packing your belongings and then unpacking several times over. You were done with Blayne. If the people didn’t want you here, then you would take heed of their warning and leave.

However, you had been too confident when your boss assigned you with this project.

“They will resist change, you know.”

You nodded. “Of course, but I’m equipped to handle it.”

“Are you?”

“You wouldn’t have pitched the proposal to me if you didn’t think I was the best to acquire the deal, Pierce.”

That, along with the fact that everyone seemingly had bets on when you’d depart played into your new resolve. You would show them just how capable you truly were.

First, however, you needed more information. “Is there a local library or archives here, May?”

“Library?”

You nodded. “Or a town hall? Surely the public can access the information there?”

“Our town hall was burned down ten years ago,” another person at the diner counter mentioned, despite May’s obvious hand swatting him off. He smiled at you. “You’ll have to go to the town over for anything like that.”

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help. Thanks for the coffee, May!”

Once in your car again, you headed back down the country highway and took the forty-five minute drive to the closet township. You cried with comforting relief when you heard the usual bleeps of your phone notification ring in succession.

“Ah, I’m back in a place of proper civilisation!”

Although this township had most amenities, you still were surprised by how small the town hall was. Having no luck there, you went next door to the equally quaint library and piled up all the documents and texts you could find on Blayne.

With a pen in hand ready to take down notes, you picked up the first journal and began to read.

You weren’t aware of how long you spent perusing the history of the area or familiarising yourself with the generations of family lines that were born and bred in Blayne. Stopping on an interesting line in the Jung family, you let out a low whistle. “June and May aren’t originally from Blayne?”

“Perhaps Blayne will leave an impression on Y/N, honey.”

June’s comment from last night pulled a smile onto your lips. At least there seemed to be one person rooting for your stay in Blayne.

It was then when you saw how late into the afternoon it was and you collected up your belongings, asking a clerk if you could take a couple of the history logs with you. After registering with the library and checking them out, you stepped into the warm air, smiling triumphantly at your discovery.

You then pulled out your phone, browsing through the messages you had received. Natalia had contacted you the most, and you pressed call instead of replying, waiting for the call to connect.

“You didn’t let me know if you got there safely!”

“I couldn’t really, the signal out in that place is something else,” you admitted with a grin as you headed to your car. You climbed inside it and then sighed. “I miss you, Natty.”

“Not enough to assure me that you’re alive!”

“Come on, it’s only been a few days, and I’m talking to you now. Isn’t that enough?” you humoured, watching a family cross the intersection up ahead. The little girl skipping across the road seemed so carefree compared to what you had been at that age.

You wondered if the city environment had made you cynical or if that was just who you naturally were.

Natalia cleared her throat and gained your attention again. “Yeah, yeah. So, any hot cowboys out there?”

The image of Jaehyun immediately appeared in your mind, and it ruined your mood entirely. “No. Not a single one.”

“Aw man, here I had you pegged for having a hot summer romance with some farm boy out there.”

“I’m here to work, Natty,” you reminded, both for hers and your sakes. “Even if there was someone handsome, he’s not going to do anything for me.”

_________________

Part 5

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kumeko · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: For the @ouranzine Flowers of the Host Club! I got overly ambitious with this piece, and the idea was too big for the word count. I do like the idea still.

…

Hikaru was used to seeing strange sights on a daily basis. It was the selling point of their club, the ability to transport their guests to different worlds, change seasons, and perform magic. He had ridden elephants to school, created an indoor jungle, and discovered there were very few things that couldn’t be done without money and an Ootari.

Very few. Sometimes he worried that world domination was the next logical step.

Either way, by this point, he didn’t think he could be surprised anymore. Yet standing here in his classroom, staring at Haruhi’s desk, he discovered that he was utterly wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. With ten minutes left before lunch ended, students slowly trickled into the classroom around him. The ordinary framing made the sight before him even more extraordinary. Rubbing his eyes, he asked, “You see it too, Kaoru?”

“I do. I don’t believe it though.” Next to him, Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them again. When the sight before them didn’t change, he pinched his cheek. “This isn’t a dream.”

Hikaru clicked his teeth. “That was the only explanation. Unless…” He paused dramatically and covered his mouth with a trembling hand. “It’s an illness?”

Kaoru’s eyes widened and he pressed his palm against his forehead. “Terminal?”

Grimly, he nodded. “Possibly.”

“No!” Kaoru leaned against him, trembling. “It can’t be—”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Haruhi cut in dryly, resting her cheek on her hand as she stared up at them. Seated at her desk, she gestured at the clock. “Don’t you need to get to your seats?”

“And she’s worried about us! Her!” Hikaru wiped a tearful eye. Leaning forward, he squeezed her shoulder and gave her a pitying smile. “You don’t have to be so brave for us. You can let us know how you really feel.”

“Trust me, I do.” Haruhi sighed, running a hand through her hair. Giving a troubled sigh, she accepted her lot in life and gave in. “What are you talking about?”

Wearing matching identical grins, Hikaru and Kaoru pointed at the small bouquet of roses balanced precariously on the edge of her desk. At least a dozen long-stemmed red roses poked out of pink wrapping paper. “Who’s that for?”

“None of your business,” she answered immediately, adjusting the bouquet so it rested more securely on her desk. With a tender smile, she patted the bundle.

That abrupt brush off just made him more curious. Undeterred, Hikaru pressed, “Is it a lover?”

“No—”

With a teasing grin, Kaoru guessed, “Multiple lovers?”

“Definitely not.” She massaged her forehead, her frown deepening. “I can barely handle you guys as it is.” As though she just realized something, Haruhi froze and her skin paled.

“What’s wrong?” Hikaru asked, as though he didn’t know exactly what was on her mind. Or rather, the five somethings on her mind.

Slowly, like a broken robot, she turned to them. She looked both silly and cute and he stifled a laugh. “You’re not going to tell Tamaki, are you?”

“Milord?” Kaoru gasped. “You’re right, he certainly does have to know about this.”

Haruhi looked at Hikaru pleadingly. Instantly, he felt his skin flush and she had to be doing it on purpose, right? She had to know what she did to him, right? Kaoru smirked at him from over her head and Hikaru sighed before relenting. “Well, maybe if we had a bribe…”

“A bribe?” Haruhi blinked before clapping her hands. “Got it.” Gently, she extracted two roses from her bouquet and held them out. “Will this do?”

The oblivious smile on her face said it all: she had no idea what this looked like. Haruhi was a weapon just waiting to go off, with all of her natural flirting. Her rose dangled in front of him innocently. Well, a flower was a flower, and he could deal with it. In fact—as a thought struck him, he looked up and exchanged glances with his brother.

They could have a lot of fun with this.

“We’ll take it.”

-x-

If the sight earlier was an unexpected one, this next one was anything but. Kaoru stared blankly at the corner of the music room, where a dark gloom had set in. Tamaki was crouched in the corner, drawing circles on the ground with a finger. If he listened closely, Kaoru was certain he’d hear the soft mumbling of a lunatic.

He’d heard it often enough from his brother as Hikaru realized that his feelings might be more than a crush.

“What’s wrong, milord?” Kaoru asked, dropping his school bag and trotting over to Tamaki’s right.

“H-haruhi…” Tamaki mumbled, looking up all teary-eyed.

“What about her?” Hikaru asked, standing on his left.

“She’s…she’s…” Tamaki warbled, a fresh set of tears forming in his eyes. He wiped them with a sleeve and wailed, “She’s abandoning me!”

They turned around to where Honey and Mori were sipping tea, looking utterly nonchalant. “Haruhi didn’t come for lunch,” Honey explained, looking a little disappointed himself.

“She’s also not joining us today,” Kyoya said and Kaoru had to fight the urge to jump. The shadow king had an alarming ability to disappear and suddenly reappear.

“WHAT?” Tamaki’s jaw fell and an incoherent stream of sounds escaped his mouth.

Kaoru raised a brow. So she’d cleared it with Kyoya first, then. Judging by his expression, the slightly amused curl of his lips, he probably knew exactly what was going on. Hell, he probably knew about the flowers too. In that case, though, he wouldn’t mind them having a little fun with it. Resting a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder, he smiled gently. “Haruhi has a good reason.”

“She does?” Tamaki’s eyes grew wide and he looked up at him hopefully.

“A very good reason,” Hikaru continued, grasping Tamaki’s other shoulder.

As though rehearsed, they both added, “She’s giving someone a bouquet of flowers.”

Tamaki nodded. “Okay. That makes sense—” Cutting himself off, he looked from one twin to the other desperately. “What?”

“She got them at lunch,” Hikaru mentioned idly.

Kaoru crossed his arms. “And she wouldn’t tell us who they’re for.”

“WHAT?” Tamaki yelped, jumping to his feet. “DADDY DOESN’T APPROVE OF ANY BOYS.”

Trying not to grin, Kaoru nodded to Hikaru. It’d only take one more push. One more really easy push. Together, they pulled out their roses. “She gave us one though.”

Kaoru could hear the straw snapping. Tamaki moved from rage to jealousy. “She gave you flowers?” He twiddled his fingers. “She’d give me flowers too, right? As her daddy, I get one, right?”

“Of course, milord,” Kaoru lied, patting him on the back.

“I want one too!” Honey swiped the last cookie and swung off his seat.

Kaoru exchanged a smirk with his brother. Sometimes, it was all too easy.

-x-

There were many ways a matter like this ought to be handled. Delicately, since Haruhi never liked it when they focused all of their attentions on her. Subtly, because she wasn’t supposed to know what they were after. Individually, since they didn’t want to overwhelm her.

Tamaki, of course, threw all of that out the window. The second he spotted Haruhi in the hallway, he charged like a bull in the china shop. “WHO IS HE?”

Reportedly, the desperate screech of a terrified not-father was heard all around the world.

As they were all good friends, the host club understood that this was who Tamaki was and that while he remained a dense brick about his feelings, this was the only way he could deal with the muddled emotions buried deep in his heart. There was something sad and poetic about it.

It was also terribly amusing to watch Haruhi assassinate him with her response and they didn’t want to interfere with that at all.

-x-

Their school was a strange one, Honey knew. The seasons changed yet no one aged, the grounds had room for every type of scenery conceivable, and the hallways extended as long as narratively convenient. As long as he waited in a hallway, Haruhi had to go past him at some point.

Almost as though on cue, he heard a soft tapping as Haruhi walked down the hall. Clutching his Bun-Bun close, Honey skipped over to her, a bright smile on his face. “Haruhi!”

Surprised, Haruhi stopped in her tracks. “Honey?”

Standing in front of her, he clutched his rabbit and stared up with big, teary eyes. “You’re not coming to the club today?”

“I…” Bingo. While Haruhi might not be all that feminine or tapped into her motherly instincts, Honey prided himself in being able to find even the most dormant of instincts and pry them out. Haruhi rubbed the back her neck, giving him an apologetic look. “I can’t today.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Honey sighed, rocking back and forth on his feet. He stared at the ground. “I had dessert ready and everything.”

Haruhi’s brow knit. Troubled, she scratched her cheek before giving up and sighing. “Maybe next time?”

“Yay.” His expression brightened and he looked up at her once more. Pointing at her flowers, he asked, “What are those for?”

“It’s nothing.” Haruhi shrugged, straightening up now. “I have to get going, okay?”

No, this wasn’t good. He hadn’t gotten the flower yet. Pushing down his panic, he shot her a winning smile. “Could I smell them?”

“What?” Haruhi raised a brow.

“They must smell nice.” Honey looked at her innocently, batting his eyes. “I can’t?”

“Ugh. No, it’s fine.” Haruhi held out the roses delicately.

“Yay!” Honey leaned forward and pulled out a rose. There, mission accomplished. Smelling it, he grinned. “It’s so sweet!”

-x-

“Alright, next is milord—” The twins stared at Tamaki, who was still sulking in a corner. “Nevermind, too much damage. Mori’s up next!”

Mori stiffened. The club’s activities were fine when they involved the other members, when it was a group thing and not an individual issue. Alone, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Especially since he was hiding at an intersection, watching Haruhi walk down the hall. Behind him, the twins and Honey were gently egging him on, trying to get him to do something. Say something.

But what?

Mori didn’t know the answer to that. He could only watch as Haruhi walked further away, cutting past another intersection. She looked to her left in surprise before disappearing around the bend. Immediately, the twins broke into laughter.

“That was even worse than milord!” Hikaru guffawed, hunched over as he laughed.

“He didn’t even try!” Kaoru added, wiping the tears from his eyes. “He just watched her go!”

“Wait!” Honey peeked around the corner and gasped. “Look!”

Mori quickly rushed to the corner. As did the rest of the host club. Honestly, it was a miracle they hadn’t been spotted before this point. “What?” he asked, steeling himself.

“Is that?” Kaoru asked, surprise colouring his tone.

Mori could only nod. Eagerly heading toward them were two small forest animals: a tanuki and a rooster. In their mouths was a single rose. The constantly fighting pair were working together for once.

A wave of love washed over him. He’d have to spoil them tonight.

-x-

Tamaki stared vacantly as he sat under the staircase. Honey had a rose. Mori had a rose. The twins had roses. Everyone but him had a rose. Well, him and Kyoya, but Kyoya didn’t seem interested. It was unfair that Tamaki alone didn’t have one. He was her father!

No, wait, that wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t here to get a rose, he was here to find out who she was meeting. Who exactly those flowers were for. There was the soft thud of footsteps and he looked up to spot Haruhi. Finally. “Haruhi,” he called out, slowly getting up.

Haruhi groaned before turning to look at him. With a deadpan expression, she asked, “Yes?”

“Haruhi, I…I..” Tamaki stared at the roses in her hand. A pang hit his chest and he clutched his shirt. Was that the pain of fatherhood? It had to be, right? “Those roses…” Standing up, he staggered toward her. “Are they for someone important?”

Instantly, Tamaki turned red. No, that wasn’t what he was supposed to ask. That wasn’t it at all. Haruhi looked at him in surprise. Her expression softened and she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Tamaki felt boneless and almost crumpled onto the ground.

“I should have realized what would happen the second the twins found out.” Haruhi sighed, pulling out a rose. She sniffed it. “I can see why you use them, they’re sweet.” Holding out the rose, she smiled at him. “They suit you.”

Tamaki blushed. “W-what?”

“Here, take it.” Gently, she pushed it into his hand. “Now you can tell them to stop bullying you, alright?”

Bullying? No, that wasn’t what this was about! Well, it did get him a rose from Haruhi, but that wasn’t the point! Who were the roses for? That’s what he had to ask. That’s what—

When he looked up, Haruhi was already gone.

-x-

Kyoya chuckled as Haruhi hastily headed toward the entrance. She looked like a woman on a mission, which, he supposed, she was. After all, the entire host club had been blocking her exit until now, a dense obstacle course that maybe he should repeat for a future host club event. Leaning against the wall, he raised a brow. “You should have known this would happen.”

“Yeah.” Haruhi didn’t look surprised to see him. He wasn’t sure if that rankled him or not. “I should have just gotten these after school.”

“Well, it was at a good discount.” He adjusted his glasses. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a small card. “You can come here for the pictures later. In exchange, I’ll remove their proceeds from your debt.”

“Business as usual, huh?” Haruhi rolled her eyes but accepted the card nonetheless. “Still, thanks for the flowers. Oh, and here.” She pulled out a rose and held it out.

“What?” Perplexed, he looked from the rose to her.

Haruhi shrugged. “I already gave them to everyone else. It wouldn’t be fair to leave you out.”

-x-

“I’m home!” Haruhi called out, slipping off her shoes as she closed the door behind her.

Her father poked his head out of the kitchen. “Great.” His smile grew brighter at the roses in her hand. “And you got them!”

“Yeah.” Out of habit, she added dryly, “But it is a waste of money.”

“Nonsense, things for your mother are never a waste of money.” Ranka clicked his tongue, giving her a disapproving shake of his head.

She couldn’t disagree with that entirely. If there was one thing her time with the host club had taught her, it was that there were times when money had to be spent. That there were things, people, where the expense was worth it.

And her mother was definitely one of them. Approaching her mother’s altar, Haruhi gently placed the diminished bouquet of roses. “Happy birthday, mom.”

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh #hikaru hitachiin #hitachiin twins #kaoru hitachiin #kyoya ootori #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #honey senpai #fanfic

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pips-fics · 3 years ago

Text

ask: Hi, I love your work sm! I was wondering if you could maybe do one where Minho gets sick (emeto) at the dorm without warning and the other members comfort him bc he’s embarrassed? Thanks 🥺

tw: vomit, nightmares

minho fell asleep feeling just a bit too warm and woke up sweating buckets. it was some kind of bad dream that woke him. his heart was racing, and he was panting and disoriented, the sense that something horrible was lingering just over his shoulder not having left him. he couldn’t even remember what it was - and maybe that made it even scarier.

it was, if nothing else, extremely disorienting. to be caught in between a dream world and that of real life, not recalling the first and unable to see anything in the darkness of the bedroom. somewhat like existing in a void.

maybe that as why minho had no idea he was sick until he was throwing up all over his bed.

he did attempt to get up and to bathroom, though by then quite a bit of damage had been done. the first wave of vomit had come quickly and intensely, and unfortunately the second was no better. what’s more, he only ended up creating a bigger mess, having not made it to the bathroom yet, his stomach contents now splattering onto the floor.

by the time it was over, minho’s head was spinning so badly, he couldn’t take another step. he sunk to the ground, lightheaded, still extremely nauseous, and now drowning in the awful stench on top of it all. he looked around, trying to make out if there was anyone else in the room, and saw no one. where were they?

at the studio, his brain supplied, and that wasn’t helpful at all because his heart started racing again. if chan and changbin were still at the studio at this hour, they might not be back until morning.

a dry sob ripped itself from minho’s ribcage, and tears burned his eyes. he knew he should call for help, but the stupid part of his pride stopped him, embarrassment demanding a moment of hesitation.

that was enough to take the choice away from him, because suddenly he was being sick again, gasping for air and terrified that he wouldn’t get it before he passed out. that would be even more embarrassing than being found like this when he was awake, so he clung to consciousness with everything he had.

changbin found him like that, swaying as if he had no bones in his body, sobbing, and shaking, and mumbling incoherently.

“what. the fuck.” changbin genuinely didn’t know what was going on and hadn’t intended to say anything, but the words felt appropriate even in hindsight. “hyung, what happened?”

“where were you?” minho whimpered between choked coughs. “i’m sorry…”

changbin, who had just returned from working and was still trying to grasp what was happening, put his hand on the other boy’s head and struggled not to gasp. “we have to get you some fever reducers or something, hyung, you’re burning up. let’s take off you shirt.”

minho didn’t so much as wiggle his eyebrows at that, and his lack of reaction spoke volumes for how badly he must have been feeling, though the tears were enough of an indicator on their own. that minho was crying was hard for changbin to wrap his mind around, so he chose to mostly ignore it and set to work on gently re-dressing the older man.

it was a process. there were things to be gathered - a trash can, first and foremost, clean clothes, but also wet washcloths because there was no way he was going to trust minho to shower or bathe. and then there was the actual act of putting minho’s clothing on. changbin hadn’t played with dolls since he was a kid, but wresting minho’s limp limbs into clean clothes really brought back the memories.

when he was finished, changbin gave minho a once over. he still looked a bit green, but the tears had stopped. changbin thought he’d be relieved by this. instead, his concern only increased. “hey,” he said quietly. “you okay, hyung?”

there was a split-second delay in which changbin could tell it took conscious effort for minho to get his eyes to focus so that he could look around the room. there was still vomit everywhere. changbin, in all his panic, had nearly forgotten about it, and now cringed. minho’s composure, if he’d had any, crumbled into whimpers and gasped apologies.

“i should’ve been more careful,” he said, voice shaking. “i’ll– i’ll clean the mess, just–” he swallowed thickly and shut his mouth.

“hyung,” changbin whined. “please don’t feel bad, you’re just–”

a heady belch interrupted him, and changbin pressed the trash can into minho’s hands just in time. a soupy mess splattered against the plastic and minho coughed through the more solid chunks of less-digested food. changbin sighed, steadying minho as he swayed through dry-heaves.

“you’re just sick, hyung, you can’t help it.”

for better or worse, minho seemed entirely out of energy by the end of this bought of sickness. changbin couldn’t tell if he’d actually been reassuring, or if minho was just too tired to cry.

“do you feel any better?” changbin asked, half-afraid of the answer.

“‘m tired,” minho sniffled, refusing to meet changbin’s eyes.

“okay, hyung, we can talk more when you’re feeling better. how about we get you to bed?”

minho glanced at the mess on his bed in disdain and changbin huffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “we’ll get you in bed with one of the kids, alright? then i can clean up here and you can rest.”

minho looked hesitant, but his exhaustion won out and he nodded. changbin helped him to his feet and they walked to the younger members’ room together. the closest bed was hyunjin’s, and minho didn’t hesitate to fall onto it. hyunjin cracked a bleary eye open.

“minho-hyung?”

there was a tense moment where changbin wondered if they’d need to explain. then hyunjin offered a dopey smile. “you’re finally here to cuddle?”

as if summoned by the word itself, felix woke and stumbled to join the other two. “i want to,” he mumbled, and promptly fell asleep, sandwiching minho between him and hyunjin. changbin raised an eyebrow.

“is this okay?” he asked minho. the other two were, once again, out cold. minho shrugged.

“i don’t want to wake them.”

changbin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, because that was the most minho way of saying “yes, i’m happy to cuddle tonight” was he’d ever heard.

though he couldn’t say he enjoyed cleaning up the bedroom, changbin did so with a warmth in his chest. he hoped his group members would never lose the genuine kindness they had always shown each other. he also hoped that whatever minho had wasn’t contagious - but that was a problem for another day.

——

a very quick reader survey (specific to this fic!) to make me smile and help me plan/get hype for my next fic: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/26HTVV8

——

feel free to send more asks! / rules

#tw vomit #tw emeto #skz sickfic #tw throwing up #sick minho #sick lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #lee know #i have no recollection of writing this fic actually #:')#stray kids sickfic #stray kids #kpop emeto #kpop sickfic #kpop

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bauslut · 3 years ago

Text

ii. what makes a man?

pairing: aaron hotchner x rowan rivers

word count: 3.840k

warnings: canon typical violence -- blood, gore, mentions of murder, discussion of murder, discussion of weapons, cursing, trauma, dealing with trauma, death of children

prev. | next

“here you are,” jj bore a kind smile as she slid a manila folder towards the brunette, “here’s your official welcome to the bau. i’m sorry it wasn’t on more.. positive terms.”

“oh,.it’s quite all right,” rowan’s eyes widened, “this is what we’re here--”

“she’s sitting in my spot,” rossi chuckled, “but i don’t mind.”

“are you sure?” rowan stammered, a rosy blush painting her cheeks, “i-i can get up and move--”

“don’t sweat it,” rossi nodded curtly, “there are plenty of open seats.”

“hey baby girl,” a wide, jovial, grin painted morgan’s lips as a woman entered the room, her blonde locks intricately woven into an up-do, “don’t you look delicious today?”

“as always,” the woman scrunched her nose, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, “how are you this morning baby-cakes?”

“hey there!” a chirp startled rowan, sounding from her left, “i’m emily, but around here, i’m referred to as prentiss.”

she was met with kind eyes, a warm mocha hue. they were bright, glimmering as they followed every minute movement as rowan studied her features. the woman was gorgeous without a doubt, with full lips and an oblong face. her hair was luscious, parted down the middle, styled into bouncy curls.

“hi,” rowan breathed, sticking out a hand, “i’m rowan riv--”

“i am afraid we do not have time for introductions,” a stern voice echoed through the space, “we are fbi agents, not kindergartners. we can have icebreakers or whatever it is you’re doing on the jet.”

rowan choked back a sharp retort as hotch strode towards a whiteboard, his spine straightened, chest puffed out slightly. sliding into her seat, her hands settled on the armrests, a puff of air exhaling from her lips. she was sandwiched between two seasoned agents, as morgan was munching on a bag of cookies on her left, prentiss sifting through papers to her right.

maybe if she just shut her mouth, she would blend in and he wouldn’t pay any sort of attention to her. which, wasn’t such a bad idea in the moment. the less he focused on her and berated her, the better.

“cookie?” morgan rattled the bag.

“not right now. thank you though,” rowan whispered, lips curving into a small smile.

“i’m about to begin discussing the case,” hotch shot rowan a glare, words barbed with venom, “so listen up.”

he pinned several images on the board, bile rising in rowan’s throat as her focus transitioned to the pictures. prentiss sucked in a shaky breath, while morgan muttered a strand of incoherent sentences.

the images progressively became more grotesque as they spanned across the board. mangled, beaten, and bloodied corpses were presented, the bile approaching the back of her mouth as she realized the age range.

the bodies were children, their jugulars slashed, lacerations and bruises littering their tiny frames.

“there has been a surge of murders in the rural farm town of homer, illinois. in the past week, there have been a total of five. all of the victims were children, with no specific physical attributes,” hotch cleared his throat, “however, all of them bear one aspect in common.”

“they’re all boys,” reid murmured, “from the images it appears as if they’re about ages eleven or twelve.”

“then they are pre-pubescent boys,” rowan’s voice was clear, pairs of eyes falling on her as she spoke, “i’ve seen something like this before, when i was working in columbus. we had a ring of traffickers who preferred this age range.”

“and?” morgan arched a brow, “why pre-pubescent boys?”

“hotch,” rowan nearly trembled as the supervisor’s cold gaze shifted on her, “i-if i may ask, were there any signs of assault or rape?”

“the severity of sexual assault varied on each victim.”

“you said that they have no physical attributes in common but looking at these photos,” reid shook his head slightly, “the brunettes are the only ones who have lacerations covering their entire bodies. the blondes, the only sign of violence demonstrated is the murder itself, the incision along the jugular.”

“could it be that our unsub has something against brunettes?” morgan inquired.

“potentially,” rowan blinked, scanning over the text, “it also says here in the autospies that the only boys who were sexually assaulted were the brunettes. i may be going on a whim here, but i think our unsub is lashing out on the brunettes for a reason. it could be power, dominance, you name it. perhaps the hair color is a stressor, or was the initial stressor. he might be reliving a traumatic event from his childhood.”

rossi whistled, “look at you, rivers. already building a profile and we’ve only met for five minutes.”

“sadly i’ve seen a lot of this before,” rowan let out a sigh, rustling through papers, “it also says here that the bodies were all found at homer lake forest preserve. i have a strong premonition that our unsub is male.”

“and what makes you say that?” hotch countered.

“by the way the bodies were handled,” rowan shrugged, “they were beaten, mutilated, and dragged through the woods. the amount of physical strength to do that is just an inherent trait males have."

“how were the bodies discovered?” jj bit her lip, a trace of fear glimmering in her icy blue depths.

“they were found by a new fisherman every morning around dawn, in the same location. they were located about half a mile from the entrance of the preserve,” hotch tossed the file onto the table, “our unsub is bold.”

“he wanted the bodies to be found,” rossi added, “he’s arrogant.”

“or he’s sloppy,” rowan remarked, “he’s devolving. he could be killing just on that need burning within him, with no remorse or any sort of emotion within him at all--”

“we need to get to homer as soon as possible,” hotch interrupted, glancing at his phone, “it’s ten o’clock in the morning. it’s only a matter of time before another body is found.”

“where’s the closest airport?” jj folded her arms across her chest.

“willard airport in champaign-urbana,” reid piped up, “other than that, the other closest one is in bloomington-normal.”

“and how do you know that?” morgan’s eyes widened.

“champaign-urbana is the home of the university of illinois,” reid swallowed thickly, “i’ve been there a few times. it’s an exceptional school for engineering, truly one of the greatest in the country--”

“all right, all right,” morgan stuck out a hand, “you answered my question.”

“wheels up in thirty,” hotch announced, plucking the file off the shiny wood.

rowan followed the others in suit, filing out of the space. trailing reid, she was the second last to leave the room, hotch right behind her, deep, smooth, voice filling her ears.

“i need to speak with you agent rivers.”

“yes?” she swiveled on her heel, facing the supervisor, folding her arms across her chest.

“i hope you’re aware that i do not tolerate any sort of childlike behavior. we’re not teenagers reuniting on the first day of class. i did not appreciate the interruptions in my conference room. you can socialize on your own time.”

“you’ve never once interrupted anything in your entire life? wow, you really must be mr. perfect. i mean look at you, all put together. i doubt you’ve even done anything wrong in your life you’re so per--”

“you realize you’re speaking to your boss with this tone, right?”

“i don’t fucking care,” tears brimmed rowan’s eyes, “this is my first day and it’s even worse than i could have ever imagined.”

“excuse me?”

“you’ve really made sure i’ve had a warm welcome to the bau, mr. perfect,” rowan scoffed, rolling her eyes, “it’s been an amazing first day, i’ll tell you that.”

for just a moment, hotch’s tough exterior cracked, a flicker of sympathy flashing in his gaze, “i’m sorry.”

“‘i’m sorry’?”

hotch paused, inhaling a deep breath, “i was going to write you up. however, i may have been a little too harsh on you. after all, this is your first day. strauss put in a good word for you, and i want to see your skill set out in the field. come on, we’re going to be left behind.”

******

“gotta love the midwest,” morgan placed his hands on his hips, chest rising and falling.

“you love it?” reid’s lips curled in disgust, “it smells like manure.”

“it smells like home,” rowan giggled, shouldering her way through the men, “c’mon, let’s go.”

“well she’s eager,” rossi chuckled, turning to hotch, “where are we setting up?”

“there’s the local p.d. in homer,” hotch slung his bag over his shoulder, “the station is only about four miles from the forest preserve.”

“i was doing some reading on the village of homer,” reid stated, “there’s only about one thousand people who live there. it’s such a tiny place, and as hotch mentioned, it’s only four miles from the preserve, surely the unsub lives there.”

“or he lives close to the lake,” rowan pointed out, “there are so many homes out there surrounding the lake in the countryside. with these rural communities, your neighbors could be a mile down the road, or miles away. it gives him the perfect opportunity to make frequent trips to the lake without being noticed.”

“you make a good point rivers,” hotch remarked, “we’ll have to keep that in mind when we investigate the lake and the surrounding woods.”

“this murder isn’t going to solve itself,” rossi cleared his throat, nodding his head towards the cluster of suvs, “we need to get to the police department and we’re losing time.”

stepping into the vehicle, rowan slid into the back seats, figuring that hotch would take the wheel, while rossi would sit shotgun. yet, curiosity buzzed in her mind as rossi took the wheel, while reid settled into the passenger seat.

“you’ve got to be shitting me,” she muttered as hotch thrust open the door, “rossi, are you usually the one who drives?”

“typically, no,” in the rearview mirror, rowan snorted when she noticed the shit-eating grin plastered on the agent’s face, “but i figured that you and hotch would love to get to know one another on the way there.”

“can i pick the station?” reid bounced in the seat, hands flying to the knobs and levers.

“pick something good, find an oldies station or something. maybe they’ll play back in black,” within seconds, the suburban was in motion, rossi revving the engine, “i plan on racing morgan, jj, and prentiss to the station. whoever loses has to buy dinner.”

“this is ridiculous,” hotch rolled his eyes, the vibration of his phone piquing rowan’s curiosity.

“by the way,” reid turned in his seat, facing hotch, “who’s been calling you so frequently today?”

“haley,” rowan tilted her head as the name spat from hotch’s mouth, “it’s not important.”

haley. from the sound of it, she was hotch’s significant other, girlfriend, fiancee, even a spouse, maybe. rowan’s eyes drifted downwards to his lap, where his hands rested on his knees. in the light, a golden band gleamed on his left ring finger.

so, hotch was married. he had a wife.

but there was something in his tone that was unsettling. were they fighting? having the typical lover’s quarrel? maybe that’s why hotch was so distant and cruel, he was constantly dealing with his marriage.

“so tell us a little about you, rowan,” rossi was far ahead of the other suburban, shades resting on the bridge of his nose, “i never got an icebreaker.”

rowan scoffed, fidgeting in the leather seat, “there’s not anything too riveting, i can spare you guys the details.”

in the corner of her eye, rowan felt his eyes pierce through her, digging deeps within the confines of her psyche. he was profiling her, desperate to get some sort of read. perhaps he was well aware of how uncomfortable she was by rossi’s query. the way her palms were slick against her pants, sweat prints clinging to the fabric. the way her cheeks were tainted pink, her jaw tightened, throat dry.

“didn’t you go to ohio state for undergrad?” reid licked his thumb, scouring through some novel or book.

“yeah,” she nodded, “i’m from a tiny town in ohio, called tiffin. i went to ohio state for an undergrad in psychology, along with a few minors in criminal justice, linguistics, spanish, so on. i stayed there for grad school since i loved the city, and the university. from there, the bureau picked me up from the academy, and i was thrown into the infamous case.”

“the child sex-trafficking bust,” hotch murmured, “i remember glancing over that in your file.”

“how long did that case go on?” rossi turned the radio dial, lowering the volume.

“longer than it should’ve been,” rowan brought a hand to her temple, a dull pain seeping into her skull, “hey, does anyone have ibuprofen?”

hotch’s eyes softened, concern painting his features, “i think i have some in my briefcase. hang on.”

rowan brought a bottle of water to her lips, sipping as hotch placed a couple of pills in her open palm. as he set them in her hand, skin grazed skin, her heart skipping a beat.

for someone as rough and callused as hotch, his hands were so utterly soft.

“thank you,” she whispered, “i appreciate it.”

“of course,” he murmured, “do you usually get frequent headaches?”

“yeah,” rowan admitted, a new wave of blush spreading, “i’m just prone to them i guess.”

“the humidity is also high today,” reid remarked, “and from the way the wind just picked up, along with the darkness of the clouds, i think it’s going to storm. your headache could be from the low pressure.”

“fantastic,” rowan threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, “you know reid, that’s kinda a myth.”

“actually research has been inconclusive.”

“how many did you take?” hotch nudged rowan, inflections of concern within his inquisition.

“six.”

“jesus christ,” rossi’s lips pursed, “are you trying to kill your liver?”

“we’ll see about that,” a giggle bubbled up in rowan’s throat.

as the suburban sailed down the interstate, her lashes fluttered, sleep threatening to pull her into its clutches. she blinked, rubbing soothing circles onto her temple, lips falling to a frown as a dull pain seeped into her forehead.

biting her lip, she fought back tears, inhaling a shaky breath. this was no place to show any weakness.

not with him around.

*****

“good afternoon, chief sellers. i’m supervisory special agent hotchner with the fbi,” hotch stated, his voice ringing with authority as he shook an officer’s hand, “and these are my colleagues.”

“thank god you’re here,” the officer’s voice was hoarse, wavering as he spoke, “it’s been a living nightmare these past few days.”

“i can only imagine,” jj murmured under her breath, “there’s someone out there killing little boys.”

“he looks so shaken up,” prentiss exhaled, folding her arms across her chest.

“we had most of the state p.d. flock out here once the second body was discovered,” chief sellers cleared his throat, his focus directed on hotch, “we’re all doing the best we can, but of course, as other duties call, we tend to be short-handed at times.”

“we’re going to do everything in our power to help,” rossi’s words were warm, brimmed with sincerity, “we’ll catch this guy, i promise.”

“and we’ll help you all in every way we can,” chief sellers nodded curtly, “anything you folks need, let us know.”

“should we start by heading out to the crime scene?” hotch inquired, “it might also be best to split some of us up.”

“of course,” chief sellers strode over to a pair of state officers, “these men will escort you to the scene. what else do you need?”

hotch’s eyes flickered over to his team, “i want morgan, reid, and rossi to go investigate the scene. prentiss and jj, would you speak with some of the locals? we need to gather as much information as possible in order to rule out anyone or gain essential details about our unsub.”

“what about me?” rowan coughed.

“you’re staying with me here at the station,” he commanded, “and you’re going to answer every phone call we get from garcia.”

“good luck newbie,” rowan rolled her eyes as morgan teased her, his breath hot against her ear.

“you might want to listen to morgan,” rossi shot her a wink, “you’re going to need it.”

“thanks,” the reply was a deadpan, the agent’s shoulders slumping as hotch approached her, “putting me on a short leash, are we?”

“you’re the one who understands the profile of our unsub the best,” he retorted, “and before you fire back with another verbal assault, think before you speak. this is your big girl job now. act like it.”

“don’t you think it’s interesting that the unsub stopped killing?” hotch murmured a few words of gratitude to an officer who handed him a coffee, cocking his head as he took a sip.

“do you think that there’s a reason behind that?”

“possibly,” rowan shrugged, denying the same styrofoam cup, “hey, where’s the closest gas station?”

“about half a mile away,” the officer replied coolly, “would you like a ride? a few of the guys and i are going to pick up pizzas for lunch.”

“i’m okay,” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “thank you, though.’

“you don’t like hot coffee?”

“i prefer iced,” the agent muttered, surveying the empty desks, “i assume they cleared some space for us?”

“indeed,” hotch huffed, “if your phone rings, assume it’s garcia.”

“i feel like i’m at columbus p.d. all over again,” the brunette slid into the seat, rolling a few inches as she plucked the file out of her briefcase.

“well this is nowhere near that,” hotch rolled his eyes, leaning against the wooden surface.

“well it sure feels like it,” his throat tightened as her eyes drifted upwards, locking with his, “it sure fucking feels like it. now, if you don’t mind, i’m going to look over the file.”

“would you like some company, agent rivers?”

“i’m sure you have ‘unit chief’ matters to tend to,” the words were barbed, hot and venomous as she spat them out, “hovering around your new recruit like she’s some child is quite ridiculous don’t you think?”

“i should have you turn in your badge right now.”

“you seem like you’re all bark and no bite. you scolded me only only hours ago about the conference room, threatening to write me up. that tough exterior of yours is only an act. or at least, i think it is. you’re not going to write me up until you have a valid reason to. also, like you claimed earlier, ‘strauss put in a good word for me.’ i know you won’t terminate me. plus, you just went through all of that paperwork to get me here. do you really want to go through all of that again?”

“you piss me off.”

“good,” she puckered her lips, “maybe you should chat about that with strauss hmm? she’d probably just tell you to suck it up and that i’m here to stay.”

hotch’s jaw clenched, prepared to retaliate, yet the vibration in his pocket distracted him momentarily, the shrill ringtone piercing through the air, “yes?”

biting her tongue, rowan glanced back at the file, bringing her hand to her cheek. part of her was wailing, screaming and kicking, fighting the urge to study those horrid images. but the other part was driven, adrenaline coursing through her veins, pumping into her body.

even the slightest detail that she hadn’t noticed initially would be immensely helpful to building the profile, piecing together who this deranged individual was. flipping through the photos, rowan’s eyes narrowed.

although the team held a short briefing before departing from headquarters, there was one minor aspect about the way the bodies were laying in the shrubbery. the boys were all on their backs, dried blood coating sliced flesh. not a single article of clothing framed their bodies, just the thin layer of briefs or boxers.

her heart lurched as one arm was pressed tightly against their sides, while the other was raised. right hands pointed upwards, three fingers: the index, middle, and ring. yet, the pinky connected with the thumb, almost as if the children were purposely holding up three fingers.

“garcia called with an update,” his voice floated into her ears, “with the bits and pieces fed to her from jj and prentiss, we still have a lot of ground to cover. are you up for a drive?”

“wait,” rowan held up a hand, “hotch, were you ever a member of the boy scouts?”

his brow furrowed, confusion settling across his features, “what?”

“just look,” she huffed, gesturing to the images, “look at the way the unsub left their bodies. it’s a clear message, almost like how he dumped the bodies in clear sight. his arrogance blinded him, goading him to taunt us. but little did he know i would see right through his bluff. i think he stopped the killing spree because he knew we’d be looking for him. it’s like he wants us to find him.”

leaning over, hotch’s chest hovered above her shoulder blade, a hand settling on the desk. the ghost of his badge hung over her cheek, a speck of white in her peripheral vision. a hum rose in his throat, “you’re onto something here. let me call garcia.”

“did i make a break in the case?”

“perhaps, but don’t let that get to your head,” the supervisor brought his phone to his ear, “hey, garcia, i need you to run something for me. how many boy scout troops are in champaign county?”

*****

“you up for some drinks tonight?” prentiss giggled, wrapping her jacket around her shoulders, “it’s all on me, especially since we should be celebrating your first case with the bau!”

“i’m fine,but thank you,” rowan beamed, “i still have a forty minute drive ahead of me. i shouldn’t stay out too late.”

“oh come on,” jj groaned, “we won’t be out for long. just a couple rounds.”

“pleaseeee?” garcia practically pranced over to rowan, jutting her bottom lip out, “we don’t know a single thing about you. hotch had you under his watch all day.”

“okay,” she exhaled, “a few drinks, and then i need to get to my apartment. i’ve barely finished unpacking so i’ll have to rummage for my towels and pajamas when i get back.”

“you have an apartment?” prentiss queried, “do you have a roommate or do you live alone? did you bring a boyfriend with you, by chance?”

rowan blinked, “uh, no. i live alone.”

“good thing you’re a fbi agent huh?” garcia winked, “c’mon, we know the perfect bar.”

“maybe we’ll get you loosened up and you can spill some secrets,” jj chuckled, the sound airy and light.

“sometimes,” rowan felt the corner of her lips tug into a wide grin, “sometimes i truly wonder what i’m getting myself into working with all these other profilers.”

*****

{feel free to ask for a tag or let me know what you think! :))}

tagging: @tempus-ut-luceant @daffodin @kleinbluu @inlovewithaaronhotchner @spencerreidsbitch @art-and-thoughts @criminallminds @ethade3

#hotch #hotchner #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #cm

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loxare · 3 years ago

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More fics I should not be writing because I should be asleep! This one is post canon, sort of setting up a Yunmeng reconciliation? Descriptions of injuries. Lan Wangji gets yelled at. Other stuff happens.

Jiang Cheng stood outside the door of the sect healer, waiting, simmering with fury.

He had lost his sister to her own choices, and to the sword of a cultivator who had been trying to kill his brother.

He had lost his brother scant minutes later to his own choices, to a fall that any cultivator would have survived, to a fall that had killed his non-cultivator brother.

And now, now Jiang Cheng might lose his brother again. Just when he'd gotten him back. And he would have, if the group of disciples he'd sent to deal with a pack of fierce corpses hadn't finished early. If they hadn't found Wei Wuxian lying on the side of the road, bleeding.

The assistant who had come out a shichen ago for bandages and had subsequently been bullied until he answered his sect leader's questions had said that they were still working. That they were hopeful. But that if Wei Wuxian had gotten here any later, there would have been nothing they could have done.

And so Jiang Cheng seethed. He had seen the wounds, before he'd been locked out of the room. No bite marks, so not a fierce corpse, yao, or animal. Heavy bruising, which could be indicative of bandits, if Jiang Cheng didn't keep his roads clear and ensure his people all had enough to eat. And if it hadn't been for all the sword wounds.

Even with the small core Wei Wuxian had now, no non-cultivator would have been able to touch him with a blade. Jiang Cheng had seen him fight a war, surrounded on all sides by cultivators and holding them off - winning - with just his flute. Not even playing it, just using it to block strikes and hit pressure points.

Which meant that whoever had gone after him had been a cultivator. And a good one.

It made sense. Even now, when the blame for Jin Zixuan lay solely on Jin Guangyao's shoulders, people still hated the Yiling Patriarch. Even now, he had enemies. It was to be expected. Jiang Cheng knew that Wei Wuxian would have people who hated him or his methods until the day he died. Again.

So what had he been doing on a Yunmeng road all alone?

It hadn't been that long ago that Jiang Cheng had watched his brother walk away with Hanguang-Jun. With the way Hanguang-Jun looked at Wei Wuxian, there was no way he cared so little that he would abandon him to bleed on the side of the road. Which meant he hadn't been there when Wei Wuxian had been attacked.

Hanguang-Jun had left Wei Wuxian alone.

Alone, when anyone with a grain of sense knew that Wei Wuxian had enemies.

The door opened. Liu-daifu stepped out, wiping water off of her hands with a cloth. "He'll be fine," were the first words out if her mouth, because she knew her sect leader well. "I'm keeping him sedated until he heals up a bit, otherwise he'll undo all my hard work by trying to move, but we can wake him up in a day or two."

Jiang Cheng let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Good." He worked his jaw. He didn't want to know this. As a sect leader, he should know it, so he could plan Wei Wuxian's recovery training. Maybe find out who did this. And... hm. "What was the extent of the damage?"

Liu-daifu took a breath. "Most you know. Broken leg, punctured lung," from where someone had run him through, "several broken fingers," because someone had stomped on his hand, "various smaller cuts. Two floating ribs, which is why I don't want him moving, not until they set a bit more. I'd recommend at least two weeks on bed rest, followed by very light exercise for two months. If he's lucky and follows the stretches we give him, he'll retain full motion in his hand."

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to yell, not now, no matter how furious he was. Liu-daifu would understand, but she wouldn't be happy. "Thank you. Excuse me."

Yan Xing was waiting for him in his office. "Zongzhu. I sent disciples in plain robes to various tea houses and inns around Yunmeng to listen for gossip. If whoever did this is nearby, we'll find out."

"Good." He sat at his desk and scribbled a quick note, waving the paper once he was done to dry the ink faster. "Get someone fast to give this to Nie Huaisang. If we can't find the bastard, he can." He rolled his shoulders. "I'm going to Gusu. I should be back before Wei Wuxian wakes. If not, you know what to do."

Dipping into a quick bow, Yan Xing left.

Jiang Cheng stopped only long enough to change into less bloodstained robes before he left. He didn't bother with formal robes because this wasn't a formal visit and also they would have gotten messed up in the flight over anyways.

He flew through the night, too agitated to land and rest. By the time he landed in Caiyi, it was close to dawn. He sent a message to Cloud Recesses, then stopped at an inn to rest for a few hours. It wouldn't do to be incoherent from exhaustion.

Exactly at midday, Hanguang-Jun stepped into the inn and the innkeeper led him to the private dining room Jiang Cheng was waiting in. The look the Chief Cultivator gave him could have curdled milk. Jiang Cheng was mildly surprised that his returning glare didn't set Hanguang-Jun on fire.

They exchanged pleasantries, which barely qualified for the name, and then Jiang Cheng threw a silencing talisman at the door. It was the strongest one he had. Wei Wuxian's design, of course. Then he took a deep breath. "What. The fuck. Is your problem?"

Hanguang-Jun raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Cheng grit his teeth, but fair enough. Hanguang-Jun had many problems. He would have to clarify. "I was under the impression, when you left Guanyin Temple staring at Wei Wuxian like he'd shot the suns from the sky, that you cared about his wellbeing."

Hanguang-Jun raised his eyebrow further. "I do."

"Then why," Jiang Cheng said tightly, every word forcing itself through the tight ball of rage in his chest, "did my disciples find him alone on a roadside in Yunmeng?"

"He can defend himself," was Hanguang-Jun's lukewarm excuse.

"Oh, so that makes it alright to abandon him then?" Jiang Cheng leaned in closer. "Whether he can or not is irrelevant. He was half dead, Hanguang-Jun."

Before he could even finish his sentence, Hanguang-Jun was standing, heading for the door. Zidian snapped in front of his face, forcing him to take a step back or lose his nose.

"Sit the fuck down, Hanguang-Jun," Jiang Cheng roared. "You are not allowed to leave until you account for your actions! You do not get to pretend concern when you left him to fend for himself!" Jiang Cheng stepped in close, crowding Hanguang-Jun closer to the wall, further from the door, Zidian sparking in his hand. "He was found with multiple sword cuts. This was no accident or monster attack. One of Wei Wuxian's enemies tried to kill him. And clearly, he wasn't able to defend himself."

"Enemies?" The word came out slightly higher pitched and breathless.

How had a man this stupid become Chief Cultivator? "Yes, Hanguang-Jun," Jiang Cheng said with exaggerated patience. "Enemies. Enemies who didn't disappear when his innocence was proven. Enemies who still hate him, and what he does, and what he did. So why the fuck was Wei Wuxian lying on the road dying without someone with him?"

Jiang Cheng had never been able to decipher Hanguang-Jun's facial expressions. But the guilt and discomfort would have been easy for anyone to see. "He said he wanted to travel."

"Great. Why didn't you go with him? Or send some of those beribboned goslings that are so besotted with him along?" If Wei Wuxian still wanted to travel when he was better, Jiang Cheng might do that with his own disciples. It would be good field experience for them.

Hanguang-Jun looked pained. "He said he wanted to travel alone."

Jiang Cheng froze. "Alone." He took a deep breath. Counted to ten. Twenty. "Alone? Wei Wuxian called you his zhiji, didn't he? And you think he wanted to travel alone?" It was so absurd as to almost be funny. "Wei Wuxian can't stand being alone. Oh, he enjoys sitting on rooftops with only the stars and a jar of wine for company, but he is incapable of going for more than a few days without someone paying attention to him, and you think he wanted to travel alone?"

More likely, that dumbass had thought he'd be in the way. Or he'd ruin Hanguang-Jun's pristine reputation with his proximity. Or, and this is the one Jiang Cheng was betting on, Hanguang-Jun didn't actually say, out loud, with words, that he wanted Wei Wuxian to stay, and so Wei Wuxian hadn't thought he was welcome.

He couldn't deal with this idiocy. He snorted at Hanguang-Jun's pained expression. "Whatever. I just wanted you to know how badly you'd screwed up. And now, you're going to pay the price. You can't have him back. Wei Wuxian is a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. If you had taken better care of him, I would have been willing to let the two of you get married with minimal fuss." A modest bride price for one, and many lotus flowers at the actual ceremony. If his idiot of a brother had eloped, which was much more likely, he would have just let it go entirely. His brother's happiness was still important to him, even after everything, and not worth destroying just so Jiang Cheng could try and wedge himself into where he wasn't wanted.

Hanguang-Jun's ears took on a distinct shade of red at the word "marry". A spark of hope lit in his eyes.

He would take great pleasure in extinguishing that hope. Jiang Cheng took a step forward, Zidian crackling on his arm. "But now, if you want to take him away, you have to prove to all of Yunmeng Jiang that you can take care of him. If you try and marry him without my blessing, it will be war."

Then, leaving Hanguang-Jun still as a statue behind him, he tore his talisman off the door and left.

The flight home was quiet. Liu-daifu fused over him when he landed early the next morning, berating him for not sleeping, not eating, generally not taking care of himself. With Yan Xing taking care of all his duties for the day, Jiang Cheng allowed himself to be bullied into eating a decent meal and then bullied into bed. He awoke with a pounding headache that the food and tea waiting for him alleviated, and was feeling mostly alive when the healers woke Wei Wuxian.

His face was thinner than he remembered, something Jiang Cheng knew Liu-daifu intended to fix, but it still scrunched up the way it always did before he woke up. Wei Wuxian blinked his eyes a few times before they focused on Jiang Cheng's scowl. "Jiang Cheng? Oh, I mean, Jiang-zong-"

"Are you an idiot?" Jiang Cheng interrupted. "Dont answer that, I know you are. But have you become an even bigger idiot since you died? Did you leave half of what little intelligence you had in the grave? What the fuck were you doing dying in a ditch alone?"

Another slow blink. With every word out of Jiang Cheng's mouth, Wei Wuxian relaxed further and further into his mattress. "I was going to... Xiangyang. They've got water ghouls."

Jiang Cheng made a note of that. Both that there was a problem in his territory that he needed to send some people to fix and that the information had gotten to his brother who had been travelling before it had gotten to him. And then he made a note of Wei Wuxian's slurred voice and difficulty focusing on his face and said, "Get some rest dumbass. You're staying until you're healed, so I'll have plenty of time to yell at you after you've slept off your anaesthetics."

Wei Wuxian nodded exaggeratedly. "Mmkay Jiang Cheng. G'night. Love you."

That last bit was mumbled into his blanket, but Jiang Cheng still heard it. He froze. A blossom of warmth spread through his chest, one that had been so familiar to him years and years ago, one he thought he'd strangled into cold silence. He smiled and patted Wei Wuxian gently on his head. After everything, his brother still loved him. "Yeah. Love you too. Rest up. You've got lots of scolding scheduled for tomorrow."

Wei Wuxian said nothing. He was already asleep. Jiang Cheng went to get some more rest himself. Liu-daifu had been glaring at him even as she'd pulled the needles out of Wei Wuxian's neck.

Tomorrow, he'd shout his brother into oblivion. Maybe the day after too, depending on how he was feeling. After that, who knew. Maybe they'd be awkward and angry at each other for the entire two months that Wei Wuxian was recovering. Maybe this would all end in tears and fucking Hanguang-Jun would get Wei Wuxian back without a fight after all. Or maybe. Maybe they'd take their sister's advice and talk to each other.

And then wwx wakes up and gets yelled at a lot and does a bit of yelling himself and feelings are exchanged at volume but they are in fact exchanged. And then lwj, taking the easy road, does not take wwx away and marries into the Jiang sect, which pisses jc off even more.

#Untamed #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Lan Wangji #I may be a bit too mean to lwj in this #eh #Loxie's fics

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kasienda · 4 years ago

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A Miraculous Reveal - New York

Ack! Apparently, I remembered to post this one to discord, but not to tumblr. I apologize to my tumblr followers if they only get stuff here. But here it is now! It’s a Ladynoir angst to happy ending reveal based on the New York Special. Please enjoy.

___

Adrien slipped into the silver limo and the door thudded closed behind him with a finality that made Marinette flinch. A moment later, the car pulled out onto the road. Watching the vehicle fade away into the grey haze of drizzly rain, two things were suddenly very clear to her.

She didn’t want Adrien to go. He was precious to her in a way that she could not define. He possessed an unending patience, he had the sweetest and softest smiles for her even when she was babbling or stuttering incoherently, and he was kind. She just didn’t know a lot of boys who were just so genuinely compassionate. She clearly had never really gotten over her crush on him despite her best efforts.

But in that moment as the car turned around a corner and completely out of sight, it was surprisingly easy to imagine her life without him. If Adrien disappeared she would grieve, but she would heal, and she would be okay.

No, the gaping hole in her chest had an entirely different source.

It was Chat Noir that she did not know how to live without.

Read on Ao3

Because it was Chat Noir who had her back every time hers was against a wall, Chat Noir who made her laugh when life seemed impossible to face, Chat Noir who offered her advice and insight whenever she asked even when it was about her feelings for someone else, and Chat Noir who built her up and encouraged her in her lowest moments.

And she was never going to see him again.

Marinette fell to her knees, barely noticing the unforgiving impact of the cement below or the cold water seeping up her pant legs from the ground. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks in contrast with the sky’s frigid rain drops. Her whole form trembled like a leaf in an autumn storm as her tears finally caught up to her.

She gripped his ring in her fist, its edges biting into her palm. It was wrong that she had it. It was his. But she couldn’t return it to him. She didn’t know his name. She didn’t know anything about him.

And now he was gone.

It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t she done everything right? She tried to be responsible, she always followed the rules, and she sacrificed so much of her normal life to make sure she could be the heroine that Paris needed. Why had everything blown up in her face so colossally?

Chat Noir was gone.

He had supported her through her worst mistakes. Had he not trusted her to do the same for him?

A warmth cuddled at her neck in contrast to the cold damp air around them. “Marinette?”

“I-I’m sorry, Tikki,” Marinette choked out, as she turned away from the red kwami on her shoulder. “I can’t do this anymore. Not… not without him.”

A black streak flew in front of her face. “Then why’d you yell at him?” Plagg demanded.

Her vision was too blurry with tears to make the kwami of destruction come into focus. “Because I was angry! I didn’t think he’d leave!” she countered sharply. “I had every right to be mad at him, Plagg. He promised me that he’d protect Paris in my absence. And then he didn’t.”

To her shock, the kwami wilted like a plant without water. “That… might have been my fault.”

“Plagg?” Tikki asked, a disapproval to her voice that Marinette rarely heard. “What did you do?!”

The miniature cat whirled to face his opposite. “You don’t understand! He never gets to have any fun! He’s always locked up! Every moment of almost every day is planned and scheduled. He’s not allowed to spend time on his hobbies if they are not pre-approved. He doesn’t get to just hang out with his friends! It’s amazing he manages to sneak away to become Chat Noir when he needs to!” He rose and fell in the damp air with a deep sigh.

“He’s my chosen, Tikki,” Plagg continued, his voice more subdued. “He deserves to have freedom.” He said it like a wish.

Salty tears flooded Marinette’s eyes all over again. Her partner didn’t have any freedom in his life? She hadn’t realized. He had always seemed so carefree. He seemed like such a goofball. But she had never asked.

How could she not have known? She should have known.

But they weren’t supposed to know anything about each other.

Another sob threatened to erupt from her throat. She fought it down.

Plagg continued. “A chance for a vacation popped up and he wasn’t going to go! He was all disgusting like, ‘I promised Ladybug I’d be here.’ I may have convinced him that the risk was really small, that he could watch the news constantly on the trip, and hurry back if anything happened.”

Tikki’s antennae vibrated back and forth in agitation.

“And it would have worked if there hadn’t also been villains here. How was I supposed to know that New York was infested with a cesspool of villains and subpar heroes?!” Plagg demanded with all the self righteousness of a wounded animal.

Marinette absorbed this new information stoically. The drizzling rain was starting to soak through her clothes and hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“He deserved the chance to go, too!” Plagg insisted childishly. “Why did your chosen get to go, and mine didn’t? And it’s not like you didn’t know he was here, Tikki! You’re so quick to point fingers after the fact.”

Tikki opened her mouth to argue, but Marinette put a hand up. “It doesn’t matter. He made his choice.” She honestly didn’t know if she was referring to his choice to go to New York, or to his choice to give up his miraculous. “And now, I have no way of finding him.”

And she dissolved into shaking sobs again. “It’s not fair,” she cried. “W-why did I have to realize that I loved him now? When it’s too late.”

She leaned back against a brick wall, the rain still falling down around her. Her pigtails were weeping with excess water. Her lined jacket faired a little better. The cold wet at least hadn’t seeped down to her skin yet.

Plagg zipped up to her face, his eyes searching her face. “You love him?” he whispered. “Chat Noir, him?”

Marinette just dissolved into a new round of wracking sobs.

The tiny catlike kwami patted her cheek. “It’s not too late!” he insisted. “I can help you find him. We’ll give him back the miraculous together.”

Marinette tried to stamp out the hope that sprouted in her chest at those words.

“She can’t know who he is!” Tikki objected.

Plagg whirled to face his counterpart. “Why not?” he asked seriously. “The old man’s gone. She’s the Guardian now.”

Marinette buried her head into her sopping wet knees. Her throat closed off again, making words impossible.

Tikki had no trouble forming words, however. “It’s still a risk. She’s been akumatized, Plagg! She almost handed her earrings right over. And if Chat Noir were akumatized she would be the only defense against unlimited destruction!”

Plagg hissed in displeasure. “Did it ever occur to you that they might be less vulnerable to akumas if they knew each other?!”

“Please stop arguing,” Marinette begged.

Both kwamis instantly stilled.

“I don’t know if I should know who he is yet. But I do know that I can’t be Ladybug without him.”

“But Marinette!” Tikki objected.

Marinette held up her hand. “I don’t want to stop being Ladybug, Tikki. So we need to get Chat back somehow.”

Plagg spun in a happy circle. “I always knew I liked you, Pigtails.”

“Do you have any ideas, Plagg?” Marinette asked, finally letting the sapling of hope in her chest grow unfettered. “Do you know where he’s headed? Is he close enough that you could go directly to him?”

“I don’t think I could get to the airport before he gets on a plane. But it doesn’t matter because I don’t think he’ll take me back. Even if I bring the ring with me. As long as he thinks you’re still mad at him he’s going to reject me.”

“Oh! I am furious with him!” she growled. “But I don’t want him to quit!” And then her face lit up. “That’s it!”

“What’s your plan?” Tikki asked excitedly, spinning around in anticipation.

She turned to her friend and confidant. “You know where he’s going, too, right?”

“The airport. But Marinette, Plagg is right. I likely can’t get to him before the plane takes off, and what if the earrings fell into the wrong hands along the way?!”

“So, you’re saying that I can only go to him once we get home?” Marinette asked, her voice heavy with disappointment. “But…”

“Ladybug?” A warm synthetic voice chimed in. “I need your help.”

Marinette started, whirling toward the mechanical voice behind her. “Uncanny Valley?”

“The akuma is back and it’s gotten worse. I need your help,” the other hero told her without preamble.

Marinette’s chest tightened in panic. She couldn’t face an akuma. Not right now.

Not without her partner.

“I… I want to help,” Marinette confided. “But… I can’t… Not without him.”

Uncanny Valley smiled. “I can help with that.”

…

Adrien leaned forward in the padded seat on his father’s private chartered plane, his head tucked between his knees as he silently berated himself for every decision he had made over the last three days.

What had he been thinking? He had known Ladybug was out of town and that Paris was undefended. And he had gone anyway.

And Paris had paid the price.

Just so he could have a few days in New York with his friends. How ridiculously irresponsible and childish of him.

The resulting damage to Paris could not be undone.

He buried his fists into his hair, tugging at the golden strands in self-loathing frustration.

And then, once in New York, he had almost failed in the worst way possible. He had almost killed Ladybug. His partner!

The woman he still loved despite trying to move on.

And if he had, he’s not sure how he ever would have recovered. If it hadn’t been for Uncanny Valley absorbing his cataclysm, everything would have been lost.

Everything.

And that was on him.

Uncanny Valley had died to save everyone.

He had killed her. He hadn’t meant to. But he had still taken a life with his own power. Even if it was an accident. He had killed someone. Chat Noir was supposed to be a good guy, a hero, and he had killed someone. And not just anyone.

Aeon.

The bright and precious girl that had been following Jess around the whole trip. Ladybug’s charm may have brought the girl back, but it could never erase the moment when the dark haired girl had lain in her mother’s arms, unmoving, from his mind’s eye.

Frustrated tears leaked from his eyes, and his form shook silently.

He knew he wasn’t worthy of being Chat Noir.

Not anymore. His selfish choice to go on a school field trip had ruined everything.

His father was right about him.

Dear god, he didn’t want to face his father.

He dreaded arriving home. He knew that his life was different now. He had no way to escape his hollow and empty room at any time of day or night, no Plagg to keep him company, and he would no longer be able to hang out with or help his lady.

He knew would see her. It would be impossible not to. She still lived in Paris, and Hawkmoth was still at large. But it would be from a distance, and even if they happened to be in the same place at the same time, she wouldn’t know that it was him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to grieve those pieces yet. Because that was only being selfish. And being selfish is what caused the whole disaster in the first place.

A loud pop interrupted his internal self loathing. The air around him was suddenly roaring with the change in pressure. It lasted only for a moment, before everything went still again.

He turned around. Uncanny Valley stood before him with a bright metallic smile.

He smiled back, tears burning at the edges of his green eyes at seeing her unharmed once again.

She stared at him for a moment without saying anything before holding out a familiar octagonal black box.

“Your services are needed, Chat Noir.”

He stiffened at the address. She knew. Knew that he was the one that had killed her and she had come to him anyway.

Adrien held up his hands defensively and took a step back. “No, I am not worthy of the ring.”

She should know that better than anyone.

Her silver smile never faltered. “Good thing I didn’t bring a ring, then.”

She held out the miraculous box again.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the box despite his reservations, only to drop it to the ground immediately at sight of the spotted earrings.

Adrien was already shaking his head when the swirl of pink sparkles diminished revealing the red kwami he had met only once before.

“She can’t give me her miraculous!” he screamed. “Tikki! What is she thinking?! She knows that I’m irresponsible and can’t be trusted! I proved that today!”

“Adrien,” Tikki soothed, holding her tiny hands out in a placating gesture. “I need you to calm down.”

“You want me to be calm?!” He was shaking like a jet engine. “Tikki, I almost killed her today. Me,” he stabbed his own thumb into his chest. “I did that. It was only because of her,” he gestured wildly toward Uncanny Valley, “that I didn’t.”

“It was an accident, and it turned out okay,” Tikki reassured.

“It almost didn’t,” he repeated stubbornly, letting himself fall back into his seat with his hands clenched into fists.

“Who are you talking to?” Uncanny Valley asked him, her head cocked to the side in confusion.

His green eyes darted towards the other hero for a second, and then back to the red kwami. “Tikkis is the kwami that is bonded with the creation miraculous?”

“What is a kwami? I’m unfamiliar with this classification.”

“She can’t perceive me because we are invisible to cameras,” Tikki explained impatiently.

“Kwamis are like spirits or gods of an idea. Every miraculous has one. They embody the jewelry with their powers,” Adrien explained.

“Fascinating,” Uncanny commented. “What does this creature look like?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Tikki interjected. “Can you please tell her to just playback Ladybug’s message?”

“Ladybug left me a message?” he prompted.

“Yes, of course!” Uncanny held her mouth open, but it was Ladybug’s voice that filled up the room.

“Chaton, I…” her voice trembled, and he knew she was barely holding back tears. “I don’t know what to say to you. I just… I need you to come back. I don’t know how to do this without you…” she trailed off, breaking into a sob.

His throat dropped painfully into his chest. He had made his lady cry. Even after everything, it was her voice that could break him.

She managed to recover, and continued, her voice harder. “I was angry with you for leaving Paris when you said you would be there,” she paused for a second. He could picture her glaring holes through his mask too easily. “But I am more angry that you left me today. How could you do that?” she raged. “When things get hard, when we make mistakes, I need you more! I need you to step up! Not run away.”

“I can’t do this without you,” and here her tone had shifted once again. Now, she was all business, all confident Ladybug with a convoluted plan that would bring everything together. He couldn’t suppress the fond smile that sprouted across his face. “So, I’ve decided that I’m not going to.

“I quit,” she said firmly and decisively.

Wait! What?! But she couldn’t do that! Paris needed her! No one could replace Ladybug.

“Now there’s no one to protect Paris or New York except you. Good luck!”

Uncanny Valley closed her mouth, the recording finished, and looked at him expectantly.

He knew Ladybug was manipulating him, but god damn it, he was never not going to do what she wanted.

He wiped tears from his face that he hadn’t realized he had cried. “She can’t give up, Tikki,” he sobbed. “I’ll go today if she needs me. I will go and return her earrings, but she needs to find a new partner. I definitely don’t deserve any miraculous.”

Tikki shot up to his face. “Adrien! This isn’t about what you deserve or don’t! This is about what she needs! And she needs you! You are her opposite and her partner. You cannot just be replaced. That’s not how this works!”

“She deserves better,” he insisted again, like a broken record.

“Do you not want to be Chat Noir anymore?” the tiny bug asked softly.

He sighed. “Of course I want to be Chat Noir, but there’s a difference between what I want and what is best for everyone! I proved over the last few days that I can’t be trusted not to make selfish choices!”

“That right there is proof you can be trusted!”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed together in genuine confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re willing to step down and pass on your position to another, even though you don’t really want to because you think that’s what’s best. That’s the opposite of selfish, Adrien.”

“But how can she trust me anymore? I let her down,” he whispered.

Tikki spiraled in the air in clear agitation. “Do you think you’re the first miraculous holder to make a huge mistake? Ladybug screwed up just last month and Master Fu’s identity and safety was compromised! And as a result, every temporary hero’s identity was revealed!”

“But that was an accident!” he growled back.

The kwami whipped up to his face.

“Exactly! It was an accident!”

He felt like she had just punched him.

“And Master Fu responded to her mistake by making her the Guardian!”

The kwami pulled herself back with a sigh, her tone once again soft and patient. “Because he was wise enough to know that the biggest mistakes often result in the greatest learning! And that Ladybug is not defined by her mistakes.

“And you aren’t either, Adrien. Ladybug can trust you more after you’ve made this mistake and learned from it, than she could before you ever made it.”

She paused for a moment as if searching for words. Then she darted right back into his personal space. “Never making mistakes does not make you worthy of your miraculous. Learning from your inevitable mistakes and taking responsibility for them is what makes you the perfect holder of the black cat.”

He hung his head. He wanted to believe Tikki. He did. Then everything could go back to normal.

“Do you believe in her or not?” Tikki asked into the silence.

“More than anything on this earth.” The words left him in a whisper.

“Well then!” Tikki continued passionately. “Believe that she’s right when she says that you are needed.”

Adrien wanted to argue. He feared Ladybug was wrong about him, and he was positively terrified of disappointing her all over again.

But if her message was to be believed it was his leaving that disappointed her the most.

He sighed, feeling emotionally exhausted and battered, but he couldn’t argue anymore. Tikki has definitely given him a lot more to think about. “And here I was thinking you would be nicer than Plagg.”

“What?!” Tikki screeched indignantly, shooting up another foot into the air. “I’m definitely the nice one!”

He shook his head in disagreement even as he smiled, enjoying the rare chance to rib a kwami even if it wasn’t the one who gave him a hard time constantly.

“So, how do I find her?” he asked.

“It won’t be hard,” Uncanny Valley interjected. “You just need to go where the akuma is.”

He launched himself to his feet. “There’s an akuma?! Why didn’t either of you lead with that?!” he demanded even as he rapidly thrust the earring posts into his ears.

“Tikki! Spots on!” The creative energies crackled over his form, feeling somehow warm and soft, so unlike his normal destructive power. He stuffed down all his doubts and self-loathing. That could all wait.

There was an akuma to fight.

And his lady needed him.

…

“Watch out!”

Lady Noire dropped to the concrete, cursing the non specificity of the warning. Chat would have told her left or right, up or down in the same number of words. The blast of power rushed over her head and missed her, if only just, so she supposed she couldn’t complain. At least she had an ally in Sparrow. It was better than facing this akuma alone.

Because this akuma - she was blanking on his name. Techno something? But didn’t it also have something to do with the Miraculous? It didn’t matter! Lady Noire couldn’t keep it all straight! That’s what Chat and his love of comics and manga was for! The point was, whatever his name, this akuma sucked!

She vaulted upwards, launching herself from the ground to a street lamp, to one of the lower buildings in the forest of skyscrapers.

Remaining at street level was dangerous. There were too many alleyways and blocked sight lines. But leaping from rooftop to rooftop was almost as bad because it left no places to hide, no options for cover even if she could see all her adversaries coming. And she had to fend off Majestia, Knight Owl, and the akuma on miraculous steroids simultaneously.

At least she was in the clear for the moment. There was no sign of any of them. A distant crash thundered. Lady Noire sighed. Majestia was probably destroying more buildings trying to flush them out.

“Hey, Lady Cat!” Sparrow called. “Follow me!” Then she ducked through an open window a dozens of stories off the ground into a conference room of some sort.

And with another sigh, Lady Noire did just that. She and Sparrow huddled with their heads together out of sight, crafting a new strategy. And again, with Chat, the conversation would have been unnecessary. He could glean her plans from a gesture or three words of explanation.

But she and Sparrow didn’t have that level of intuitive communication. Lady Noire liked Sparrow. The Parisian hero related to the other girl’s desire to prove herself, and she knew the other girl's heart was in the right place. But they didn’t have any experience with each other.

So it took thirty seconds of rapidly exchanged words before they were on the same page and back in the air fighting. It had only been thirty seconds, but how many buildings had Majestia managed to demolish in that time?

Lady Noire honestly didn’t have time to count, as she ducked under yet another projectile - this one launched at her by Knight Owl.

The time delay had been worth it though. She and Sparrow were tag teaming better, grabbing the brainwashed heroes’ attention before they could take out their compromised morals on the city too badly, and covering each other’s back when their three adversaries converged on one of them.

But every move was defensive. They had no plan for an offensive strike. It was all they could do to not get hit by the akuma’s beam.

She wished Chat Noir was there.

She was certain he would come back. He would never leave her hanging. She had absolutely no doubt.

But would he make it back in time? Before her luck ran out completely?

She pounced out of the way of another strike, only to dodge into the blow of another. She had time to curse her mistake, but no time to course correct.

Just when she thought it was over, a flash of red body-slammed her into a third direction.

Relief flooded through her at the familiar sensation of his form pressed against her own. They both readily rolled to their feet, and slid into fighting stances side by side.

“You okay?” he called.

She flashed him a huge grin. “Never better, bugaboy!” Now that he was here.

And unlike the first time they had swapped kwamis, they were perfectly in sync. Even for them, it was impressive. It felt like she could read his mind and he hers.

Or maybe, it was just the contrast of working with Sparrow. Or was her name Eagle now?

Whatever the case, she could feel the difference. Chat Noir was her partner, her other half. He had stolen her heart somewhere along the way, and she couldn’t wait to tell him, even if she would never hear the end of it.

He called for a lucky charm, and she jutted her chin towards a parked taxi cab. He flashed her a grin, and dove into action. And that’s what she meant. He just understood.

“Sorry, Miraclonizer,” Mr. Bug called to the akuma an instant before Lady Noire shot out of the cab and cataclysmed his object. “Third time was not your charm.”

Majestia and Knight Owl cornered the healed villain within seconds of Mr. Bug purifying the butterfly and healing the city.

But Lady Noire paid none of them any mind. She launched herself into her partner’s arms the second it was safe to do so. He caught her as if she weighed nothing, absorbing her momentum with a twirl before pulling her against him.

She had never felt safer.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she told him, her voice hard. It was the only defense she had against immediately dissolving into a puddle of tears at his feet.

“I wouldn’t dream of it m’lady,” he breathed into her braid. “Shall we go somewhere to talk?”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Go, recharge Tikki. And then we’ll meet up on the Statue of Liberty?”

She bounded away without a word to the American heroes, before ducking into a secluded alleyway three blocks away and letting her transformation shimmer away.

“I don’t have any cheese,” she reported solemnly as she offered one of Tikki’s cookies to the limp kwami that had just fallen into her hands.

“I’ll live,” he replied gruffly, eying the proffered pink macaron suspiciously as if she were offering him poison. He took it, flipped it over and inspected it, before taking the smallest of nibbles.

She sighed. “I’ve seen you inhale cheese, Plagg. I don’t suppose I could bribe you with a promise of a wheel of Camembert later to just hold your nose and inhale that, now?”

“What’s your rush, Pigtails?” he asked, taking another infinitesimally small bite. “The akuma has been defeated already. Your job is done.”

“I just…” she looked away. “I don’t want him to spook.”

Which was a lie. She knew he’d be there. But she… she had lost him today. He walked away once. He might do it again. She wouldn’t feel secure until she had seen him, until he had promised with more than words that he wasn’t going anywhere.

He eyed her. “You can trust him, you know. He’ll wait for you.”

“Like I could trust him to protect Paris in my absence?” she bit back.

Plagg said nothing. Just took another tiny bite if one could call it that.

She sighed, idly running her fingernail along the alley brick wall. “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to be angry. I don’t want him to run again.”

“You don’t have to be what others expect you to be, you know.”

Her eyes whipped to the kwami floating in the dim light of a flickering street lamp. “What do you mean?”

He darted around in an animated circle. “You don’t have to be the bigger person. You can be angry. He can take it. He has lots of practice.”

She hissed at those words, hating that any piece of them could be true, and that she still didn’t know enough about his civilian life to refute or understand them.

“But this isn’t about him, or your feelings for him,” Plagg continued. “This has nothing to do with him at all. This has to do with you being the Guardian.”

She frowned. “I’m not following.”

“You don’t have to be what Paris expects you to be. Or what Chat Noir expects you to be. You don’t have to be what Master Fu expected you to be either.”

Her eyes watered unexpectedly at the mention of her old mentor.

“You just have to be you,” Plagg concluded.

Her knuckles buried themselves into her eyes, as she tried to fight back tears. “But I keep messing up.”

“That’s because you’re trying to follow the rules instead of following your instincts!”

“A hero thinks with her brain, not her heart!” she countered hotly.

“No! You need to think with your gut! Your brain is not what helps you decipher Tikki’s charms. I love her, but that girl can be obtuse! No, you have to follow your intuition, and trust that even if you don’t know what the final piece is when you’re halfway through some convoluted plan, you’ll recognize it when you see it.”

She bit her lip, considering his words. His description of unraveling the mystery of a lucky charm wasn’t wrong.

“Like, why didn’t you bring the horse miraculous on this trip? I know you thought about it!”

Her eyes narrowed at his tone.“Because Master Fu said that having too many miraculouses out and active was too risky!” she began defensively.

“You already proved that your determination, creativity, and your faith in your partner was more effective than that old man’s paranoia when you defeated Feast.”

The miniature floating cat took another crumb off Tikki’s cookie. “The old man is gone! You need to figure out your own way of doing things. His ways won’t work for you because you’re not him.”

“But… I’m just a teenager. I don’t know what I’m doing. He had so much more experience. He kept you all safe for centuries. Who am I to say that his methods were wrong?”

“Who are you?” Plagg repeated indignantly. “You are Ladybug! You have never lost. You are now the Guardian. You are Marienette Dupain-Cheng who is quite accomplished in her own right!”

Her eyes burned at the praise. And coming from Plagg who pretended he didn’t care about anything? Well, that meant a lot to her. Especially today when she was feeling so raw and like she had screwed up just for coming on this trip at all.

“And just so you know, Master Fu took on the role of the Guardian when he was twelve. He didn’t know what he was doing either. He made tons of mistakes. You will too, but they don’t have to be the same ones.”

Marinette leaned up against the wall behind her, carefully considering every word. “Why are you telling me all this?” she whispered.

He flipped the cookie over on its end and nibbled into the untouched end. Really, the whole cookie looked unmarred. They were going to be here all night.

“You brought my kid back. You didn’t let him go. I figure I owe you a favor.”

She smiled softly. “You seem to care about him a lot.”

He frowned. “He gives me only the finest of camembert!” he gushed. “Not every holder can pull that off, you know.”

Marinette reached out and scratched the little cat behind his ear, and to her delight he leaned into the caress and purred. She suspected Chat Noir meant far more to the kwami than cheese, but she wasn’t going to call him out on it.

“Tikki says you can’t ever take anything seriously.”

He looked affronted. “I can be serious!” he argued. “When it’s important!”

She giggled. “I can see that,” she conceded. “Thanks, Plagg! I think I needed to hear this.”

“Like I said, I owed you a favor. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Oh, of course,” she agreed readily, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth, and gulped it down in one swallow.

“So are we going to go meet my kid or what?” Plagg asked. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting all night! He’s going to think you’re still mad at him or something.”

“Are you serious right now?” she screeched, staring at the stoic kwami in complete disbelief. “You were just pretending you had to eat that cookie so slowly?”

He did the kwami equivalent of a shrug. “You asked me to hurry it up. And I did! Don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“Oh my god! You’re impossible!”

“Still waiting on you, Pigtails,” he countered smugly.

“Plagg, claws out!” she growled out, his laughter echoing in the humid frigid air around her even after he was sucked into the ring.

Dark crackling energy enveloped her body from head to toe, thrumming with raw power and energy. Her normal transformation felt warm and comforting. And the black cat wasn’t cold - it was more like lightning. And once her transformation was complete she just needed to move, to run, to pounce, to be free.

She vaulted from the ground, shooting off towards the monument of liberty that she could see clearly now that it had stopped raining, eager and excited to speak with her partner.

As she approached, she could see he was already there - a spot of red that stood out against the green of the statue’s oxidized copper. He was sitting under that railing of Lady Liberty’s torch, his legs dangling playfully over the edge.

She vaulted up and landed next to him in a feline crouch.

“M’lady!” he greeted brightly as if they hadn’t planned on meeting not twenty minutes prior. “I was starting to get worried. What happened?”

“Plagg happened,” she growled. “Apparently, he eats cookies really really really slowly.”

He laughed. And god, it was a gorgeous sound. One that she would never take for granted again. “Yeah, he’s pretty annoying when it comes to food.”

She sat down next to him, closer than she normally would have, wanting to have him close. She crossed her legs at the ankles and they stayed relatively calm compared to his active swinging. Neither of them spoke for a minute, they were just staring over the city of lights. The city that was not their own, but they had just saved.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the silence.

His spring-green eyes snapped to her in surprise. “For?”

“For coming back,” she told him simply, still not daring to look at him. If she looked at him she was fairly certain she would cry. And while tears were likely inevitable this evening, she didn’t want to start off with them.

“I’m sorry for ever leaving,” he told her solemnly.

“It’s…” she broke off. She was going to say that it was okay, but it wasn’t. “Thank you for saying that,” she said instead. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said immediately. Her eyes jumped towards his face, surprised at his total lack of hesitation. He gazed back at her, his face calm and serene as the breeze that swept across their cheeks.

“You don’t want to know what it is first?” she asked.

He shook his head with a soft smile. The expression almost seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “I already know I would do almost anything for you, M’lady. I thought you would have known that by now. And the one or two things I wouldn’t be able to do, you would never ask.”

Heat bloomed across her cheeks at his raw faith in her. She was never certain how she had earned it.

“What did you want to ask?” he prompted when she still didn’t explain.

“Just that… next time, if there’s a next time, which I hope there won’t be,” she rambled. “But if there is a next time, can you please talk to me first? Before you make your decision?”

He stared at her for a second. “Next time for what?” he finally asked.

She glanced at him, then looked back down to her knees. “A next time you want to quit…”

“Oh…”

And then he said nothing. And she couldn’t stand it. Her gloved fingers writhed in her lap.

“It’s just… you left without letting me say goodbye,” she confessed, her voice softer than the cold breeze. But she knew he could hear her. She looked back at him again, gauging his face for a reaction, but for once she couldn’t read him. “I…” she bit her lower lip in thought, and looked back down. “I don’t want you to be trapped in this. You’re never obligated to continue, but…”

His hand, gloved in red and black, reached out to hers soothingly. “But?”

Emerald green eyes blinked at her from behind a spotted mask, and she found herself missing the vertical pupils that came from wearing the black cat miraculous. When had his eyes stopped looking alien and strange to her? When had they become a source of comfort?

“If you ever want to stop doing this, please… just let me say… goodbye,” she choked out over the massive rock that had just lodged itself in her throat. Hot tears fell from her eyes, over her mask. She hated crying in the mask.

He pulled her against him, she felt safe and warm in his arms. Her body responded by convulsing harder with wracking sobs. He rubbed her back soothingly, and rocked her back and forth.

“Oh bug, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, and then he kissed the crown of her head. “Of course I promise.”

“The last thing I said to you was out of anger,” she sobbed into his chest.

“Shhh… it’s okay. I’m right here. And I know you,” and she could hear the smile in his voice. “You were never going to let that be our last conversation. I’m apparently really bad at staying away even when I think it’s for the best.”

She stilled at his words, at the self deprecation in his tone. “Do you…?” she hesitated, carefully keeping her head down and not looking at his face. “Do you still... think it would be best for you to give up the miraculous?”

He didn’t say anything.

And suddenly, despite his arm around her shoulders, the night was freezing once again, overcast, dark, and grey.

“Chaton?” she prompted. She was terrified of what he might say, but she had to know. She had to know if she could rely on him.

His head dropped, his forehead rested against the top of her braid. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “In the moment that I renounced Plagg, I did it because I just didn’t see any path back for me. I just kept making mistake after mistake. I didn’t want to keep letting you down.”

“You didn’t let me down,” she objected automatically.

Her partner laughed, but there was no amusement here. It was not the bright, rich laugh that came from his belly that she coveted and cherished. This laugh was bitter and dark.

She huffed out a sigh. “Okay! Fine, you let me down, but not in some irreparable sense that you seem to be thinking.”

His arms tightened around her. “I almost killed you today,” he whispered so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

She sat up then, and traced the sides of his downturned face in both of her hands. She urged his gaze up to hers and waited until he was looking at her before speaking. “But you didn’t.” Her voice didn’t waiver.

His lower lip trembled and soon his whole body was quaking. She jerked him into her arms, and his head came to rest on her bony shoulder.

“I… I don’t know… w-what I would do… if I lost you,” he gasped out between sobs.

“You’re the one that was going to leave,” she couldn’t help but point out dryly.

His nose burrowed deeper into her shoulder. “Only because I am afraid that at some point I will screw up so badly, but instead of me… you’ll be the one to pay the price. I don’t want to be your partner if I am not the best one to protect you. You’re too important to me to let my ego or selfish tendencies get in the way.”

Her arms tightened around him.

He looked up at her then. His eyes were glassy and as green as new spring grass. “But then Tikki said some things that made me think about it differently. That maybe coming back was more important?”

He said it like it was a question. That he needed her confirmation more than anything.

“Kitty, I don’t know how to convince you. I know you won’t be perfect. I won’t be perfect either. I know our mistakes have very real consequences for more than just us. And I would definitely appreciate it in the future, if anything that affects our responsibility changes, you would tell me rather than pretend like everything was taken care of.”

He nodded in agreement.

“But you are it for me! I cannot do this with anyone else because you are the only person who was here with me through this whole crazy thing, the only person who has believed in me even before I believed in myself! You are the person that I trust the most. The only person that can really understand my life. That’s why today was so hard. I…” She broke off into tears.

She started sobbing uncontrollably, harder than either time before. Her throat was tight, and she felt like there was no air. She couldn’t talk, but she desperately needed him to hear these ones.

“I… thought I was… n-never going to see you again,” she choked out.

His hands traced her jaw as his thumbs brushed away her tears. “Do you want to know who I am?” he asked, his eyes serious.

She laughed hysterically through her tears. Of course she wanted to know; she had always wanted to know. But she was still scared. Plagg’s advice about being in her own kind of Guardian warred with every word of caution Master Fu and Tikki had ever given her. Because learning who he was wasn’t something they could take back.

She needed to think about this very carefully. But she wanted to just know. And she wanted to tell him.

“I’m serious,” he told her. “I will tell you right now. You don’t even have to reciprocate.”

She sucked in a breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and smiled brightly at him. She wanted to give into his offer with every fiber of his being. But even if she wasn’t scared to know anymore, it was still probably wise to give it careful consideration before rushing into anything.

“I know who you are,” she told him.

He started. “Y-you do? What gave me away?”

Her smile grew, and her fingertips traced the side of his face. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t know your identity. But I do know you. You’re my partner. And my best friend. The boy I trust more than anyone else on this planet. And the most important person in my life. I know your heart.” She placed her other hand on his chest. His heart was racing, too. “I know you.”

She leaned forward before she could think about it too much. He met her halfway.

His lips were chapped, and his breath tasted of mint. His fingers found a home in the small of her back while hers became tangled in his golden locks. Everything about their contact was warm, sweet, and soft.

She didn’t want the moment to end.

It was perfect.

So when he started to pull away, her hands held him in place. And she could feel him smile against her lips.

She finally pulled away with a gasp, and only because she had to breathe at some point, and she was rewarded with a dopey grin on his face with his masked eyes still slitted closed.

She watched him fondly for a few seconds, her giddy smile likely echoing his own. But when he didn’t move, and he didn’t open his eyes, she grew impatient.

“Chaton? You still there?” she teased lightly.

“Yes, m’lady!” he answered brightly. But his eyes remained stubbornly closed.

She poked him in the shoulder. “Why are your eyes still closed?”

He sighed happily. “Because I’m trying to memorize the best moment in my life so I can replay it later when I need it.”

She snorted. “I can’t believe I fell in love with such a dork.”

His green eyes snapped open. “You love me?” he breathed out as if he could scarcely believe it.

She curled her hands around his again. “Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. “Did Uncanny Valley not play you my message?”

“She did, but…”

“And you were here for that confession and kiss, right? You remember it? You weren’t under some akuma’s control or anything?”

He shook his head, even as his fingers tightened around hers. “No, but you didn’t say love,” he objected.

She turned towards him again. “Chaton, the boy I told you about, the one I told you I loved?”

He went rigid, his expression suddenly carefully neutral. “What about him?” he asked casually.

“He came on this trip with me,” she explained. “But today he left. I watched him drive away and it felt like he was leaving me. And it was hard. But it barely registered in comparison to the devastation I felt listening to your echoing footsteps fade away after you left your miraculous behind.”

His gaze dropped to their joined hands. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I’m not trying to make you feel more guilty. I just… that’s how I knew.”

She turned and kneeled before him, still not letting go of his hands. “I had to let go of both of you today,” she told him. “But you were the one where that did not feel possible. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the lines you snuck into my heart, made it your own, and I don’t want you to leave.

“Because I love you,” she whispered.

His eyes turned glassy, but he was smiling. “I love you, too.”

She couldn’t stand to see him crying even if they were tears of joy. So she leaned forwards and kissed him again. And then again and again until she lost count and they were both giggling like children.

“What does this mean?” he asked her later, when they were giggled out, and her head rested against his shoulder once again.

She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to just be! Be here and now, and not have to worry about Paris or New York or decisions that she didn’t want to be the one to make! “I don’t know. I want us to be together, I think. But this is dangerous. But… Plagg said I needed to make my own rules.”

He started. “Plagg said what?”

She ignored his interjection. “And he was right! I… I’ve been trying to emulate Master Fu because he is the only example I have.”

“Plagg gave you advice…? Like useful advice?” Chat objected again.

She frowned up at him. “You’re getting distracted, kitty.”

“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free arm. “Go on.”

“I just worry that if Hawkmoth knows we’re in love, he’ll find a way to use it against us. Love makes us strong in so many ways, but it also makes us vulnerable.”

He threaded his fingers with hers. And she had never thought she would enjoy holding hands with someone as much as she did.

“Do you really think he couldn’t have already done that before when assuming we were just friends?”

She pursed her lips, considering. She supposed he had a point. She kept her identity a secret so that Hawkmoth couldn’t get at her through her family or friends. But Chat Noir had always been a friend she couldn’t hide.

“It’s just more pronounced, I think,” she concluded.

“Would you want to keep it a secret then?” he asked, his expression betraying nothing about how he felt about that idea. But she knew that was his way of being supportive by letting her take the lead.

“Keeping our vulnerabilities secret does offer some protection. That’s the way Master Fu did it. He always stayed in the shadows and was secretive and he was able to protect the kwamis and to stay hidden for almost two centuries!”

“But?” he prompted when she stopped.

And she smiled, pleased that he could read her so well. “But we’re on the front lines. We don’t have the luxury of staying in the shadows. It’s harder to build an impenetrable wall of secrets when you have to be out in public all the time fighting monsters. When you have to balance a double life without anyone noticing. When you struggle with so much, and can’t confide in anyone, or ask anyone for support…”

And suddenly, now that she was really thinking about it, she was angry. Livid that she had been put in this situation where she was almost alone in keeping an entire city safe, and told that she could share that with no one. How long would it be before she broke? How long before she was akumatized?

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. “Yeah, I just… I didn’t realize that I was so angry. Master Fu dumped a lot of responsibility on me without leaving any avenues of support,” and she immediately tensed realizing how her words can be misconstrued. Her eyes jerked upwards to his. “I didn’t mean you,” she told him.

He smiled. “No, I totally understand what you meant,” he assured immediately. And then his smile faded and his gaze turned distant.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Do you want to give up your miraculous?” He asked softly, clearly afraid of her answer.

She jerked back violently. “What?! No!! I can’t give it up!” Even she was startled at how visceral her reaction was. “No,” she said again, her tone more calm. “It’s hard, yes. And definitely unfair. But it would just as unfair to put this burden on someone else.”

“But do you want to be Ladybug?” he asked again, this time his green eyes were intense and insistent, rather than worried.

“I love being Ladybug,” she whispered back. “I love knowing that I have helped someone. I love being able to protect the people I care about. And well, even the challenge of figuring out how to defeat an akuma or interpret a lucky charm… It's empowering,” her voice grew louder the more she talked. “Just knowing that when the chips are down, I’m capable of thinking stuff out like that. Most people have to run when an akuma strikes, but not me. I have agency. I can do something. And I’m good at it!”

“Damn good at it!” he agreed with a huge smile.

She smirked. “And I suppose flying over the city by yoyo is pretty cool too,” she tacked on.

“I had to ask,” he told her. “I want you to know you have an out, too.”

“Thank you kitty. I appreciate that.”

“So if you’re committed to sticking it out, what do you want to do differently than Master Fu as the new Guardian?” he asked. “And whatever you decide, know that I will always support you.”

Her eyes locked onto his. “I want to trust. I want to trust you completely. Maybe others too, but I want to start with you. I don’t want there to be secrets between us.”

She felt him freeze underneath her.

“So… does that mean…” he fidgeted nervously. “Tell me if I’m jumping the gun again, but may I tell you my name?”

The question hit her like a lightning bolt, sending both her heart racing and her gut fluttering. Even though he had mentioned it earlier, this time felt different. Now, she felt ready. But she was still nervous. But not in the way that she used to be. She wasn’t worried for her friends and family because this was Chat! Her partner. He would give his life for her, she already knew. The idea even brought a sense of relief.

No, the butterflies in her stomach were more a giddy nervousness. She tried to calm herself by breathing deeply. Knowing his name wouldn’t change how she felt about him. And she had to believe that his knowing hers wouldn’t change the way he felt either.

“Only if you want to,” she said. God, she wanted him to tell her so bad, but she didn’t feel she had the right to demand anything after she had already put him off so many times.

He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to. It works out for you, too, in this case because you’ll always be able to track me down when you need to yell at me for something without having to send a third party or worry that it will be our last conversation.”

She laughed. “You sure you don’t want to wait like two weeks when we’re not so emotionally raw? When our heads are on straight?” It was the more pragmatic choice. There was no rush. They didn’t really have to burn through all the secrets between them in one evening.

He barked out a laugh of his own. “Two weeks for you to come up with a million and three reasons about how bad of an idea it is?” He shook his head, even as he chuckled. “No, I don’t really want to wait for that.”

“I’m not that bad!” she objected.

“Oh, yes, you are,” he grinned, darting in with a quick kiss to her nose, which she scrunched up in response. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

“Yeah, well! You’re so impulsive!” she countered, even as she grinned.

“And you love me anyway,” he countered, cheekily.

Heat flooded her neck and face; even her ears felt hot in the cold air. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“I love you, too.” His voice was so soft, like velvet, and his eyes were even softer. Love poured from them. It was so intense it was hard to maintain eye contact. She had never felt more exposed or vulnerable. He had all of her heart. He had stolen it.

But he didn’t say anything more, and it was driving her mad.

“So…” she prompted, “What’s your name?”

He started, and then grinned again. “R-right!” He cleared his throat dramatically. “Adrien.”

She reeled backwards as if burned. “W-what?!” she exclaimed. She thought she had been prepared for anything! She thought his name wouldn’t change anything.

She had been wrong.

“My name… it’s Adrien,” he repeated.

Her eyes were bugged out of her head, and her jaw was on the balcony floor. But she didn’t know what to say. It couldn’t be him, could it? That would be too simple. And too unfair all at once! The universe was clearly laughing at her. It had been laughing at her for years!

He frowned. “Is that bad?”

She could hear the tremor in his voice. God, he was freaking out. She had to fix that.

“N-no…?” she stammered. Crap! She was stammering. He was totally going to see straight through her.

Would that be so bad?

“Just… unexpected,” she said lamely.

“Were you expecting a Louis, or an Antoine?” he asked jokingly, clearly trying to bury his vulnerability in silliness, but she could see through him. He was terrified. “What name did you give me in your head?”

“Chaton,” she whispered, squeezing his head, managing to look right into his anxious eyes.

His whole form relaxed and his jokester face melted into the softest smile at her admission. And oh god, it was totally him. How had she never seen it before? She was such an idiot.

“Okay seriously,” he laughed. “What is wrong with the name Adrien?”

“Nothing!” she insisted.

He kissed the knuckles of each of her gloved hands. “Then why are you freaking out?”

So many panicked thoughts swirled through her brain just like it always did when she was trying to talk to Adrien. But this wasn’t just Adrien anymore, she reminded herself. This was her partner, her best friend, her love, and her Chaton. She had just said she wanted no more secrets between them not five minutes prior.

She took a deep breath and prayed for courage. “Adrien might be the name of the boy I had a crush on,” she admitted. Somehow, it was easier to be indirect about it even though she already knew that it was him.

“What were the chances that I have the same name as…?” And then his whole body stilled and his eyes widened. “Unless… No! I cannot be that lucky,” he mumbled more to himself than her. “But… you said…” His eyes searched hers. “You said… your crush walked away from you today. If that was me…”

And suddenly his eyes watered and he was crying again. Only this time, she had no idea what was wrong.

He couldn’t be that disappointed it was her, could he? The possibility had never occurred to her.

“Chaton? What’s wrong?”

He yanked her to him, his arms wrapped around her petite frame from both sides and he cried onto her shoulder.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry!” he sobbed.

And she shivered at her name on his lips, laden with such emotion. She felt her panic begin to fade. He definitely wasn’t disappointed.

“For?” she asked.

“I walked away from you twice today.”

And with those words the last of her fear faded away. She rubbed circles on his back. She hoped he found them soothing.

“Chaton, it’s okay,” she reassured, feeling remarkably free herself. She had managed to confess to both of the boys she loved in one go! And she was feeling much better about this whole Guardian business just as a bonus. “This makes things surprisingly simple,” she said, framing both sides of his face in her gloved hands.

He shook his head and nuzzled his cheek into one of her hands. “I don’t deserve you,” he croaked out.

She shook her head. “I think you deserve the world, Chaton. That’s why I fought so hard for you to be able to come on this trip. I just didn’t realize you were also the person that I needed to stay behind.”

He laughed through his tears. “You’re so amazing, Buginette. I have thought so this whole trip. Until I screwed up royally, I was thinking about asking you out when we got back to Paris. Marinette you, I mean.”

“R-really?!” she squeaked.

“Really!”

“What changed?” She asked. “If I recall, Chat Noir already rejected Marinette.”

“I don’t know that anything did. It’s like you said… I think you snuck in a long time ago and I just didn’t realize it because I was so focused on Ladybug.”

“Ladybug is pretty great, I guess,” she grudgingly admitted.

“Ladybug is definitely amazing! I’ve looked up to her for a long time, but Marinette… she is so much more because she fights for justice without the benefit of a mask. She always stands up when it matters. She goes out of her way to include everyone, she gives people second chances. She gave me a second chance.”

Her eyes watered with his sweet, sweet words.

“She was the first friend I really made on my own, and I think it’s one of the best things I have ever done, and I save Paris on a weekly basis!”

A laugh tore through her tears, and he smiled back.

She tilted her head up and kissed him, trying to convey how much his words meant to her. Because she could not put it into words.

“I love you,” he finished when they pulled away.

She grinned even though she was still crying. “I love you!”

She studied his face, his eyes sparkled and his mouth couldn’t stop smiling. Happiness suited him. She realized that she had never seen her partner completely one hundred percent joyful. She had never understood before that half his jokes and tendency to want to play around was one part outlet and another part defense mechanism, but now, he made so much more sense to her. And she loved him more.

She hadn’t realized that was possible.

“It makes sense now,” she confided.

“What does?”

“Your attitude and personality as Chat Noir. You barely ever are allowed anything, so of course you go a little overboard when the opportunity presents itself. Ladybug has always primarily been a duty for me. Chat Noir is freedom for you. And well, if my miraculous was the only way I got to be free, I wouldn’t listen to my kwami either.”

He laughed. “Plagg actively encourages my rebellious moments,” he said, his eyes still gleaming.

“Really?!” she scoffed. “No fair! Why did you get the fun kwami?”

“He’s not that fun,” Adrien immediately disagreed. “Quite annoying really. He goes through so much expensive cheese you wouldn’t believe it. Nathalie still asks me questions about how much cheese I buy. And he makes a point of leaving cheese crumbs everywhere, which makes everything smell weird.”

She ate up every word like a child on Christmas morning. It was so mundane, but they got to do this now! They got to share every bit of how their civilian and hero lives clashed.

“But he’s definitely the nice one,” her partner concluded.

“What?!” she screeched in mock outrage. “Blasphemy! Tikki is the sweetest!”

He grinned. “She is definitely the mean one.”

“Whatever! I guess you should give her back to me then, since you clearly don’t appreciate her!” she bantered back.

She hadn’t expected the immediate flash of pink light.

Tikki materialized a split second later, but Marinette spared no attention to her constant companion. She was looking at her unmasked partner. He stood before her, unfairly tall. His blond unstyled hair looked more like Chat’s than Adrien’s and she loved it. His cheeks were slightly pink, but his eyes…. It was like she had never seen them before, which was ridiculous because he was Adrien. She had seen them thousands of times before. But she had never seen them knowing he was her partner. They were emerald-green, and they were shining with complete trust and love, and she was lost in their depths.

She traced the curve of his jawline with a gloved hand, but her eyes never left his even when she started tearing up all over again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His golden eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “For?”

“For making you wait so long for this moment,” she confessed. She was so mad at herself for costing them so much time when they could have been supporting each other completely in both parts of their lives.

He smiled. And she could see her kitty in his face and it was amazing!

He turned his head into the hand on his face and kissed her palm. “You had to be ready. I know I was less patient on some days, but I’m glad that we waited until we both were ready.”

Maybe he was right. It was better this way because if it had happened sooner she might have combusted realizing it was Adrien and been unable to talk to him. Or she might have been angry if he had shared before she thought it was okay. And this… this was better.

She dissolved her own transformation in a flash of green. Plagg was there immediately, glanced between them in their civilian forms, and he smirked.

“Oh thank god!” he exclaimed. That was as far as he got before Tikki swooped in, and wrestled him out of sight.

Adrien carefully took out his earrings, and they reverted to their red and black form in his hands. He held them up, gesturing to the side of her head. “May I?” he asked.

A blush bloomed across her face at the question. She nodded, not trusting herself to form words.

His bare hands gently pushed a few errant strands of her hair behind her ear, before he carefully slipped one earring into her right ear. “Thank you for making me come back and thank you for trusting me with… yourself and everything else.”

He moved to the other side of her head and slipped in the second earring just as gently. “I promise to do everything I can to live up to your trust in me.”

Then he kissed her forehead before pulling slightly away, but she captured his hand before he could escape entirely.

She caressed each finger one by one, and then took off his miraculous, which was a rose gold on her hand, but instantly turned black when it was free of her finger. She watched in fascination as it turned silver when she placed it on his finger.

“I want to thank you for always supporting me, for being patient,” she started.

“Mostly patient,” he interjected, his voice light with teasing. She pushed a finger to his lips.

“Hush! It’s your turn to listen.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. It was such a Chat expression on Adrien’s face. And that made her smile.

“I want to thank you,” she began again. “For always being there when no one else was, for picking me up in my lowest moments, for giving me advice, for being a bright spot in the darkness.”

“Can I get a do over?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Nope!” She snapped back playfully. She had loved what he had said. “And I promise to be transparent with you as the Guardian the way Fu never was.”

She kissed his hand. Then he pulled her up and his lips met hers again. He was so warm. And he was sending tingles down to her toes.

Would she ever get used to his kisses?

She hoped not.

He pulled away just slightly and her vision was filled with his green eyes. “It feels like we just got married,” he told her.

Heat rushed from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. But… maybe someday?” she suggested with a shy smile.

He grinned back. “I look forward to that day.”

She did, too.

…

#Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #identity reveal #ladynoir #angst #with happy happy ending #tikki gives tough love #plagg gives advice #ladynoir talk things out #A Miraculous Reveal #My Own Content

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brokutosan · 4 years ago

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Title. We Are Your First, Last, & Only Line of Defense Against This World of Scum

Pairing. Seijoh 3rd Years x Platonic!Reader

Summary. In which growing up is hard, but it’s a lot less harder if you’re doing it with the bestest friends you could ever ask for in the world (and Oikawa Toruu). Or; a journey through the friendship of the third years of Seijoh’s volleyball club.

Warnings. Manga spoilers up to chapter 395. Lots of cursings and mentions of anxieties about growing up. Kind of incoherent and mostly ramblings + not much dialogue, but I’ve been enjoying writing these types of things. Full disclosure: this is completely based on that official art of them at a karaoke bar. Title is from Men in Black by Will Smith.

Oikawa Toruu was 6 years old when he was crying about some kid stealing his pudding cup. And Iwaizumi Hajime was 6 years old when he dreamt of becoming a cop once he grew up, so he sought to bring justice for Oikawa’s pudding cup. L/N Y/N, also 6 years old, had declared that she would marry Hajime once she was old enough to, so she thought it was her job as his future bride to be his partner in solving this crime. (Oikawa Toruu could care less, he just wanted his pudding cup back).

Long story short, Iwaizumi Hajime ended up scuffling with said kid after he called him “stupid porcupine head” and Y/N jumped in the fray to save her future groom, while Oikawa jumped in to reclaim his pudding cup. And that was just the start of their long series of getting into trouble together.

When Oikawa Toruu was 14 years old and in his last year of junior high, the ugly green monster had reared its head and caused hostility between him and a certain kouhai. Y/N, always the kind one, had called him out on his bullshit and told him to get his act together. Oikawa fired back and called her out on her “pathetic crush on Iwa-chan,” effectively setting off the cold war between them that lasted all of summer. Iwaizume recalls having to go back and forth between the two because they refused to be in the same room together.

By the time they were 15 years old and entering highschool, the two ended up being in the same class. Oikawa pretended not to know her and hung out with “Makki” from his volleyball team. Y/N tried branching out and making friends with the other girls in her class for once, but she was shunned out for being close to the Oikawa Toruu back in middle school.

Their three months of silent treatment ended on the second week of the new school year, when Oikawa was enraged by the nasty rumors spreading about his childhood friend. Some guy Y/N rejected during the third day of school had spread rumors that she was involved in a reverse harem with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and that he didn’t bother going out with her because she was “too easy.”

Oikawa, 15 years old, threw the first punch. Iwaizumi, also 15 years old, held back his friend until Oikawa shouted out, “This bastard’s running around calling Y/N-chan a whor-” Oikawa didn’t need to finish because by then Iwaizumi had thrown the second punch. Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, both 15 years old, tried holding back their two new volleyball teammates.

And that’s how Y/N and Oikawa tearfully made up, and the two, “Mattsun” and “Makki”, as Oikawa affectionately named them, joined their little friend group. Y/N ended up joining the volleyball club as a manager per Oikawa’s request (command) and finally everything was back to normal, with everyone forgetting about the “cold war” between Oikawa and Y/N.

It didn’t take long for Hanamaki and Matsukawa to fit into the group because anyone that could tolerate Oikawa deserves a reward (and that reward is the friendship they’ve built over the years, but none of them actually liked to get sappy).

By the time the five friends were 16 year olds in their second year of highschool, Oikawa has made a name for himself as the great setter of the Seijoh volleyball team. The other three were close behind in terms of popularity, but none were quite as open with it as Oikawa was. Y/N, on the other hand, did not get to enjoy the joys of the glory brought by the four players. She made heads turn, but the sight of four glowering boys right behind her made them turn back.

But there were a few exceptions.

Y/N was 16 years old and in second year of highschool when she got her first boyfriend. It wasn’t Oikawa, or Iwaizumi, or Hanamaki, or Matsukawa, no, it was a fellow second year in the same class as her (she was lucky enough not to be put in the same class as any of her idiot friends that year).

All five of them have forgotten his name now, but when they do talk about him every now and then, he was given the affectionate nickname, “Pighead.” Because two months into their relationship, Pighead had the nerve to demand Y/N to completely cut off her four friends.

Because she was young and naive and under the illusion of puppy love, Y/N was thrown into a dilemma. She mulled over it for weeks, lost sleep over whether or not she should comply, until Iwaizumi snapped her out of it and made her spill what was bothering her.

Once the four boys found out they offered to wipe Pighead off the face of Earth, but Y/N just cried and apologized for even just thinking about cutting off her amazing friends. They had a sleepover that night and Y/N still remembers it as one of her best childhood memories.

(Because of that one incident Y/N had decided to completely cut off immature boys from her highschool days).

Come their third year of highschool the five were as close as ever (and Oikawa, regrettably, much more annoying). They’ve built up seemingly unbreakable bonds that would last a lifetime, and Y/N was glad that she was able to take part in it. Having the four boys throughout her teenage years certainly was enjoyable, and she wouldn’t trade the memories and years of friendship they’ve attained for anything in the world. As long as she had the four of them (even Oikawa), she believed she could face off anything and anyone in the world.

When Y/N began worrying about college and growing up, they were there to help cheer her up. When the boys lost to Karasuno in the Prefectural Qualifiers, Y/N was there to cheer them up. She still remembers the tearful afternoon spent in the gym they’d spent three years of their lives in. And despite not being as hurt as the boys were after losing, Y/N had found herself shedding a few tears of her own. As they closed the gym doors one final time, they’ve also closed the doors to their childhood.

Teenage years go by, and as quick as they’ve entered highschool they found themselves graduating. Growing up. Taking the next step into adulthood. The four boys she came to love as her found family were now four men, and they’ve done well growing up.

And just like that tearful goodbye at the Seijoh volleyball club gym, Y/N finds herself preparing for another one. All five of them are adults now. Iwaizumi is going off to California to study in an American university, Oikawa’s going to Argentina to play volleyball, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa are moving to Tokyo together to study in a university. For once in her life, Y/N finds that she’ll be all alone in Miyagi, while her friends take the next few steps to growing up.

The five of them find themselves in Hanamaki’s childhood bedroom, for one last weekend sleepover before everything changes. They’ve strewn out blankets and pillow on the floor, and are laying down in a circular formation. They’ve been in this bedroom hundreds of times, in this same exact position, but now it’s completely different.

All his posters of celebrities are taken down and wrapped neatly on a pile sitting on his desk. His clutter of figurines and plushies collected over the years are in boxes, ready to move with their owner. His closet is empty, the clothes inside stuffed into their own labeled boxes. And his volleyball jersey that’s usually hung by the door is no longer there, no doubt already packed somewhere safe. Y/N tries not to dwell on the somberness of it all, and instead forces a laugh when Matsukawa makes a joke.

Y/N realizes she messed up when four pairs of eyes turn to look at her. “I know I’m a riot, but that joke wasn’t even that funny. I’ll admit to that.” Matsukawa speaks up.

“What’s on your mind?” Iwaizumi finally asks. His arms are behind his head and he’s staring up at the ceiling, no doubt lost in his own train of thoughts.

Y/N contemplates if she should ruin the peaceful vibes surrounding their group. They’ve already cried tons after losing to Karasuno, so do they even have any tears left for a goodbye? Y/N looks to her left and realizes all their attention focused on her, waiting for her to answer Iwaizumi’s question.

“Nothing. Just that maybe this’ll be our last weekend together.” She sighs, letting her emotions get the best of her. “We’re all going our own separate ways, who knows what could happen, y’know?”

It’s Oikawa that reacts first, but that’s no surprise since he’s Oikawa. “Y/N-chan! Are you trying to say you’re gonna miss me?” He asks with comical tears in his eyes. Y/N immediately regrets speaking up.

“I think I might miss you the least.” Oikawa feigns hurt at the comment, but he knows his friend better than anybody. ‘I’ll miss you more than you could even imagine.’ Is what she’s trying to say.

“Oi. No more crying.” Hanamaki finally says something. He can see the tears forming at Oikawa’s eyes, and a few that already shed from Y/N’s, before he feels the familiar burning sensation in his throat. “Damn it.”

“Nothing’s gonna change. We’ll all keep in touch, plain and simple.” Matsukawa announces, almost as if he was sure of it. “And if anyone,” Iwaizumi adds, looking directly at Oikawa, “decides to be a dick and try to cut us off, we’ll all personally fly out to South America to kick his ass.” A chorus of ‘yes’ sounded out as Oikawa gasps at his friends’ reactions.

“Why does it always get violent with you, Iwa-chan?!” He whines like a child, causing an outburst of laughter from the other four.

Hanamaki notices Y/N staring off into space again before he sighs, placing an affectationate hand on her head. “Relax, loser. It’s not like we’re gonna totally forget Miyagi. If anything me and Issei are gonna come back home more than you think. You’ll get tired of us eventually.”

Y/N wipes a few stray tears and nods, finally showing a genuine smile. “I’ll kill all of you if you even try to forget about Miyagi.”

“Impossible.” Iwaizumi says with a gentle smile on his lips.

The next morning the five friends make their way to Narita Airport, where Oikawa’s flying off to Argentina to become a better player. Their eyes are bloodshot red from staying up all night crying and reminiscing old memories together.

The walk from the parking lot to the boarding gate is quiet, until Oikawa breaks the awkward air between them. “When I get back, I’ll wipe the court with Tobio-chan.”

“You’re still not over that? Grow up.” Y/N glares, suddenly remembering their childish fight during their last year of junior high. Hanamaki laughs first, followed by Matsukawa, and finally Iwaizumi. The people around them stare strangely as five teens laugh with tears streaming down their eyes.

“Try not to miss me too much, ‘k, Y/N-chan?” Oikawa winks, just barely dodging the fist swung at him. A boarding call for Oikawa’s flight fills the airport, and they finally remember why they’re there in the first place.

“I’ll miss you guys.” He finally says seriously, tears freely falling down his face. Y/N cracks first, flinging herself to his awaiting arms and cries as she realizes this is his goodbye. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi follow, forming a group hug in the middle of Narita Airport.

Oikawa pulls away, dragging a sleeve to wipe away his tears. He opens his mouth to say one final goodbye, but is interrupted by a plethora of voices overlapping each other,

“Try not to make your teammates hate you too much. Make some friends.”

“Don’t even think about calling me at midnight about your stupid problems.”

“If you come crying to me about your knee, I’m just gonna say I told you so.”

“Once you get back, I’ll be sure to give you hell.”

“Oi, what kind of curse are you all placing on me?!” Oikawa whines, the somber atmosphere replaced by their usual energetic one.

With one last ‘goodbye,’ Oikawa strides towards the airport gates, and away from the ones he’s grown to love over the years. He looks over his shoulders, taking a mental picture of all four of his closest friends waving and giving him nods of encouragement so that he’d never forget what he’ll always have back home.

The world can throw anything it wants at them, but as long as they had each other, nothing’s ever too scary or too tough.

A/N. Thank you for reading this totally self-indulgent fic with my fav third years! A Miya twins version of this fic is in the works! Also, I’m thinking of making a mini series off of this oneshot where you chose a route with one of the boys (romantically). Let me know if you guys would also be interested in that. - chuu

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 4 years ago

Photo

Following a prompt by @frances-the-red here, who said she required “whump, a sexy bath scene and a sword fight”. All in one, you say? Why, yes.

Have “And the scars don’t write a song for me at all” (not a line from a Blind Guardian song, surprise!). It was quite easy because I already had an unused bath scene from an abandoned fic, that I just polished a bit and removed the smut. The rest is just the usual nonsense.

4300 words, mild Violence warning. Read it under the cut or on AO3.

Geralt awoke to find the bed was empty next to him. The room was dark, curtains still drawn. It was not unusual for Emhyr to rise with the sun's first rays, the early birdsong being his wake-up call. It was certainly very early; still, Geralt sensed it was not dawn yet. He got up, wrapping the blanket around his body. He'd made it a habit of sleeping naked in the palace – where not only the fireplace but also his husband regularly warmed him. Yet it was still winter, and the mornings were chilly. A quick tug on the curtains confirmed that there was time yet before dawn. The blackness of the night only slowly faded into a softer gray, illuminated at this hour only by a few lights from the city below.

Slowly he crossed the room, the coolness of the stone floor a sharp contrast to his body, still warm from sleep. The adjoining chamber door was open, and there he found Emhyr's silk robe hanging over a paravent. Behind it, unusually for the early hour, a bathtub was steaming with hot water. Emhyr's eyes were closed, but he seemed anything but relaxed: his arms were leaning on the edges of the tub, the fingers of his right hand playing an impatient little concert on the wood.

"You overdo it with cleanliness," Geralt remarked.

Emhyr opened his eyes, and Geralt was greeted by an amber glow so similar to his own. There were moments when Emyhr's eyes took on the color of ripe hazelnuts, but not now, not at this hour.

"I didn't want to wake you," he returned. "It helps me think."

"Contemplating before the sun rises? What's bothering you so much?"

"Come here," Emhyr said instead of an answer, and his hand underlined his words with a restless gesture.

That was a demand quickly obeyed. Geralt soon found himself pulled down, a firm hand on his neck and persuading lips on his own. After this passionate morning greeting, Geralt's voice sounded a bit rough.

"I'm not going to complain, but..."

"You know what I'm thinking about."

Geralt actually knew. The latest intelligence reports had led Emhyr to tighten security around Vizima. They seemed to be mere rumors for the time being, but their prolonged absence for the wedding in Nilfgaard seemed to make some local factions believe the emperor had developed a weakness. Not merely a weakness for a certain witcher, but perhaps a waning interest in strategy and political calculation, at least in the short term. In this, they were wrong, and Emhyr by no means took the flashing little skirmishes here and there lightly.

"Join me," Emhyr said, holding out his hand. "Make sure I don't think about it, if that's what you want."

The invitation sounded almost like an order, not to the witcher, but the husband. If it was, it was easy to follow, and Geralt stripped off the blanket. He bent over Emhyr in search of another kiss, and the firm grip on his neck resumed. Lips as hot as the rising steam met his, and for a while, the world shut down.

The steam seemed to cloud Geralt's senses – their lips parted, but Emhyr's face appeared to him as if he would look through a fog. He still felt his hand on his neck, and the grip seemed to get stronger. Then, he did not understand how it happened, the pressure became even harder, pushing his head under water. It was much less warm than expected, and the sudden immersion was a shock. Only reflexes and an immediate instinct prevented him from swallowing water. It was impenetrable to his eyes, far too dark, far too unreal. Some part of him refused to comprehend what was happening. His arm shot up, his hand searching for a hold but finding none.

It's a dream, he thought, a dream, a nightmare, and I will wake up soon.

But if this was a dream, why did he feel the air escaping from his lungs? Suddenly, the water dissolved into murky darkness. Now, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Was he floating or lying on the ground? Part of this felt like a memory that was slightly off. Slowly the darkness gave way to an unreal gray, and Geralt realized that his eyes were still (or again?) open. Sounds kicked in as if all of his senses suddenly remembered how to work. There were unfamiliar voices, smells, and feelings. No, not all of this was unfamiliar. There was something his mind needed a moment to recognize... a sensation, sharp and hot and throbbing.

Pain. A feeling he knew – and an excellent instrument to come back to reality. Then, light. Now his eyes were able to focus: there was a wooden ceiling above him, small golden reflections of sunlight dancing on it. A house, a hut, maybe. He focused on the pain. The cause was not hard to find: an arrow sticking out of his right thigh. Moreover, his gaze fell on shackles on his wrists. Handcuffs, not a simple rope. Someone wanted to make absolutely sure that he would not free himself so quickly. In two ways, because his quick inventory told him something else: the arrowhead had been soaked in poison, and that was still inside him. Poisoning a witcher wasn't easy, but apparently, whoever had done it knew what to do.

His accelerated heartbeat and temporarily decreased breathing – a feeling that had manifested itself in a dream or hallucination – were clear evidence. The memory had been buried under the poisoning effects, but now he remembered this morning clearly. The actual events had been much more pleasant. They had made love impetuously on the damp floor next to that tub. Later, the breakfast had been interrupted by a messenger, asking for the witcher's urgent help. Should that have made him suspicious? The forests around Vizima were usually spared from any monsters. According to the vague description, it could have been anything from wraiths to a lost troll. He had not become wary, had followed his damned sense of duty, and walked right into a trap.

That part was still a bit blurry, but a surprising noise, a handful of guys looking like vagabonds, and a sudden arrow in his thigh definitely had something to do with it. Here he was, once again, a tied-up package somewhere in the wilderness, a victim to his own good-naturedness. Or dumbness, he thought, observing the handcuffs closely. At that moment, a crooked door opened, letting in more light than was comfortable for Geralt's eyes.

"Oh well, look at that, our princess is no longer slumbering."

A sleazy guy entered, a whole head shorter than Geralt, from head to toe the type of obnoxious order-taker that Geralt was pretty sure lacked the intelligence to come up with such a bold plan. He was right. Pushing past the guy was a taller man, beefy and bald, with a rather ugly scar from his right ear to his shoulder. Did someone ever try to chop your head off? thought Geralt incoherently. Dark eyes under bushy eyebrows regarded the witcher with due suspicion. Far more conspicuous, however, was the sword scabbard at the man's hip. For Geralt would have recognized the weapon's handle in it anywhere - it was his own, the silver sword. Of the two they had taken from him, it was by far the more valuable, and Baldy must have decided to keep it.

"Faster than I thought," he said.

His companion appeared slightly nervous.

"We still have a bit of that stuff, shall we..."

"We don't want to kill him," the other cut him off. "I already thought he'd suffocate; that's too risky on me."

"If it somehow matters that I survive, it would be quite useful to remove this poisoned arrow," Geralt replied nonchalantly, if a bit hoarsely.

He noticed a sour taste in his mouth. Somewhere, sometime, he must have vomited up some of the poison, but it had not helped much. Apparently, they had made sure that he did not choke on it, which also indicated that they wanted him alive, at least for the moment. From then on, it was easy to put two and two together. Ridiculous that he had fallen for it, but not the first attempt of this kind.

"Let that linger as long as possible," Baldy said, deadpan. "If you ever get back to your pretty palace, someone can cut that thing out for you."

The "if" was striking.

"You've already calculated that there might be no ransom, but you still came up with the insane idea of kidnapping a witcher," Geralt said calmly. It wasn't even a question.

"But one that seems to mean quite a bit to our new ruler," the bald one returned. "And look, all it took was a well-aimed arrow and some poison."

In other words, an element of surprise that didn't come to many. Geralt knew how amazed people like this were when they found out that witchers also ended up bleeding like ordinary people. Maybe not as long and not as persistent, but the bastard was right: an arrow and a bit of poison had been enough. Of course, it wasn't always quite that simple, but chance and luck had played into these guys' hands.

"Well, we'll see if we can capitalize on our catch, won't we? The swords, the dagger, and what we found in your pockets are probably compensation enough, should that not be the case. And if I don't need you in the end, I'll pull that pretty ring off your finger and have it melted down in Mahakam."

With these words, Baldy turned back to the door, pushed his accomplice out, and both disappeared. Gotta give him credit for having guts, Geralt thought. A bit of a megalomaniac, perhaps, but what did he have to lose? For scum like him, peacetime had little to offer. So why not stack up a little? Quite possible that they weren't even looking for a ransom now that they had valuable witcher weapons, which would fetch quite a bit in shady auction houses. Perhaps they had also concluded that the matter was too big in the end. They certainly didn't want to risk the army getting on their trail. Even Baldy could not be so shrewd as to believe that he was slipping through the fingers of the emperor's expected wrath. Whatever they were up to, they made a typical mistake: underestimating a witcher was never a good idea. And firing an arrow in his leg and tying his hands was not nearly enough. Neither was Geralt the princess they took him for, nor did he need rescuing.

Trying to sit up, he felt a bit dizzy. There was still poison inside his system; there would be until the arrow was removed. It was tempting to do it right now, and he could have done it even with cuffed hands. But without any knife, it was a gruesome business, and a painful one. As he could get a closer look now, he noticed the tip stuck quite deep in his thigh. He would do too much damage if he just ripped it out, so he focused on the shackles first. Solid steel with a short chain. No big deal, Geralt had learned such things as a boy. Lambert, Eskel, and he had always tried to outdo each other in their numerous attempts to escape from handcuffs. Vesemir had had to rescue one of them time and again, chained to all sorts of objects. Lambert once almost strangled himself when he was desperate to prove that he could free himself by hanging one-handed from the stair railing in Kaer Morhen.

Geralt shook his head. Not the right moment for merry (or rather not) reminiscences. If they had tied his arms behind his back, things wouldn't have been quite so simple, but they hadn't bothered. So Geralt only had to patiently twist the chain's individual links into each other until they locked. When that happened, he braced himself against the inevitable pain and pulled his hands apart with all his might. As expected, the metal broke after a few seconds, and his hands were free. He had no way to remove the remains from his wrists, and Geralt could already vividly imagine Emhyr's comments on this. This only spurred him on, so he looked for a hold on the wall behind him to carefully prop himself up.

Finally, he stood, painful as it was, but now he was able to assess the little window. He peered out cautiously from the side. Outside, he saw a handful of horses, their reins thrown loosely over the rickety remains of a fence. Roach was not among them. Smart girl, he thought. Didn't let yourself get caught. The guys outside had no idea that the soldiers were probably already closer to them than they thought – Roach knew her way back, as any horse in danger would seek refuge in its home stable. Slowly, Geralt limped to the door and listened, letting his senses wander. Most likely, one of them was standing right next to the door. One last time, he glanced at the arrow in his leg. The wound was bleeding again, but there was nothing he could do about it now. All he could do was take advantage of the element of surprise, as they had done with him. Oh, they would be in for a surprise.

With a jerk, he wrenched open the door, gaining a split-second overview. There were only five. Four sleazebags with Baldy as their leader. To the right of the door stood the little guy who had come in first – apparently Baldy's right-hand man. He was carelessly playing around with a sword, weighing it in his hands, observing it. It was part of the loot, Geralt's steel sword. In an instant, it was back in his possession: he rammed his elbow into the guy's face, whereupon the jaw cracked. Completely surprised, the man was not even capable of a scream, and in one fluid motion, Geralt grabbed the sword before it went to the ground like the bandit.

A little commotion broke out among the remaining members of the small band of robbers, and already the bravest among them pounced on Geralt. He attacked with a dagger. Geralt felt a series of small nerve jolts, a tingling sensation that rose up inside him, hardening his muscles. It was anger, he realized. For this was his dagger, not just any weapon; a particularly beautiful piece, pure silver, decorated with a wolf's head on the handle. It was a gift from Emhyr, and the thought that this was the second time somebody tried to steal it from him only fueled his rage. To take this away from him, like they wanted to do with the ring, his fucking wedding ring... It made him forget how tedious and painful it was to move with the arrow still stuck in him. He dodged the attack with a single side step, and the sword drove through the flesh of the assailant as if he were flaying a rabbit.

The bald one still held back, staying in the background, Geralt's sword loosely in his hand. He would not make it easy for him, but he let his comrades run to their doom without hesitation. In the end, they were all the same. Their idea of witchers was vague, almost mystical, but they were all eager to find out if there were any human traits beneath the legends. But then, when they lay in their blood, they whimpered for their pitiful lives, as if to conjure up any humanity they had denied the witcher.

If they wanted animal instincts, they could have just that. As far as some things were concerned, Geralt had all too human traits, and he didn't hesitate to take his anger out on them, even if it was basically ridiculous, almost childish. He could nearly hear Emhyr's voice in his head, "Those are just objects," he would say. But they weren't, not for him. And he didn't kill the men, he wasn't vengeful and not half the monster they probably took him for.

Number three had his own (well, probably stolen) short sword, but Geralt made short work of him. Soon after, the fourth one also lay in the dust with his eyes wide open, clutching his shoulder with one hand, as if he still couldn't believe where the guy with the arrow in his thigh had gotten the speed and agility from. Geralt was running on pure adrenaline now, and while it would have been a waste to use any potions on these blokes – if he still had them – it wouldn't have hurt to have some now, as his movements seemed to ram the arrow only deeper into his flesh. The remnants of the poison still made him a bit dizzy, and every step was a sharp knife into his leg.

But now only Baldy was left, and he would soon realize, just like the others, what it meant to mess with a witcher. The guy was either stupid or pretty confident of himself because his nasty face showed no fear. He swung the sword loosely in his hand, a boastful swagger; however, it did not catch. Geralt just stood there, perfectly still, his body balanced so that he put as little weight as possible on his right leg, but ready to do so should it be necessary. They always underestimated one thing: that he was willing to fight through anything, even pain.

"It would be better just to leave now. There's still time," he said against his better judgment. "There's nothing more to gain here."

"But I don't have anything left to lose either, do I?"

A swift, deft advance followed the words. But Baldy tried a blow from above – powerful but predictable, even more so for an experienced swordsman. Geralt ignored the stinging pain in his leg as he took a small step to the right, parrying the blow with his sword held to the side. His quick counterattack was textbook, but in that case, Baldy was trained from it as well – he rolled off the inevitable blow and was back on his feet in no time.

The arrow still secreted a little poison; Geralt felt his body reacting to it. He was slower than usual, his reactions stiffer than necessary, but he doubted his opponent suspected that. He still seemed to think that his injury should stop the witcher. That he would have an easy time of it. But he was wrong. Lunge, feint, and thrust came in quick succession, forcing his opponent to dodge. Despite his rather massive stature, the man was not unskilled, and at some point in his miserable life, he must have learned not only how to hold a sword correctly but how to use it. He did not make the mistake of permanently hitting Geralt's sword, as many untrained fighters did. That only cost strength and brought a somewhat acceptable result only with equal opponents anyway.

Baldy searched for gaps in Geralt's defense (he found none), and when that proved fruitless, he began to try to disrupt his balance with powerful blows. Aiming for the legs seemed to be a reasonable tactic since it was clear that Geralt was dragging his leg. So he aimed at the left one to force him to put more weight on the injured right. It would have worked for anyone else, but not with a witcher. Instead, Geralt turned the tables and permanently shortened the distance between them. He parried the attacks with quick counterattacks, pushing Baldy back, coming closer and closer to him. And the latter reacted precisely like a stressed student who had mouthed off and dared to challenge the master.

The only thing left for him to do was to back away, yet all around the shabby old hut was nothing but forest. So if he didn't want to trip or run backwards into a tree, Baldy was forced to turn an attack into a counterattack. But he lacked the time and skill to do so, and that was his downfall. For a second, he frantically looked behind him to scan the surroundings. That was enough for Geralt to advance. Once again, a tremendous pain shot through his leg as he, both hands on the handle, performed an arcing motion. Once again, he ignored it, and what his attack lacked in apparent elegance, experience and instinct made up for. Strength alone was not the key. Baldy learned that like hundreds before him. Geralt's sword struck him just below the right shoulder, piercing the leather jerkin, causing the overzealous bandit to stumble. Even as he pulled out the blade, Geralt kicked him hard in the stomach. With a surprised gasp, the wannabe abductor went down.

Geralt grabbed the sword in Baldy's hand – his sword – and wrestled it out of his wrist after a brief struggle. He resisted the impulse to give the guy another kick and turned, shifting his weight back onto his left leg. The desire to get rid of the damned arrow became overwhelming. He looked at the horses - decent animals; he could just take one of them. Somehow he would get through the ride back. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was. He glanced up to at least approximate the direction. The sky was clear, but thunder could be heard in the distance. Geralt blinked, almost disoriented for a moment. The adrenaline in his body stopped working. The last remnants of the poison had not yet disappeared, dizziness set in, and his leg almost gave way.

It was not thunder. Something, still far away, but on a direct course in their direction, was approaching. For a moment, he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that Baldy – amazingly still conscious, though losing copious amounts of blood – grabbed his ankle. Pure instinct ensured that he did not instantly go down and that he noticed the slender knife in the other's hand in time. A quick movement of his sword, which was still in his hand, was enough, and Baldy's pathetic little attack went into the dust with his knife.

He cursed, rage in his hate-filled eyes, and Geralt finally had enough. He turned his sword, the hilt pointing down, and took a short swing. But Baldy's hand was still on his ankle, and in a last desperate moment, he pulled hard. Weakened by everything that lay behind him, Geralt now actually began to falter. Bad luck for Baldy, because as he fell, his sword hilt hit the latter right at the wound Geralt had caused him, and he howled and rolled his eyes.

Then Geralt went down on his knees, and that in turn was his bad luck. The pain was so overwhelming that he nearly fainted on the spot. No longer able to keep his balance, he fell forward. Although he reflexively stretched out a hand, he could not prevent the new impact. The arrow bored deeper into his thigh than before. There wasn't even enough breath for a scream. The world turned into fire. But the red flames before his eyes changed to black almost instantly, and he went limp.

This time, he didn't open his eyes right away when the world returned – or rather, when he returned into it. His senses kicked in one by one, gently, as if he had been asleep for just a moment. He heard the soft crackling of a fireplace from somewhere, and beneath him, he perceived the familiar feeling of smooth sheets. The gentle smell that hit his nose – tart, a little juniper, a little oakwood – made it finally clear where he was. Still, his eyes remained closed just a little longer. There were cool fingers on his much too warm forehead. Something moist stroked over his brow and cheeks, and that felt nice.

"You drowned me in the bathtub, you know," he said, and he felt as if he could almost hear Emhyr's frown.

Now he opened his eyes, but if he had thought the dark eyes above him would look puzzled, he was disappointed.

"You're feverish, Geralt. Be still."

Now that was typical of Emhyr, to tell him off like that although he had almost killed him. Geralt frowned and tried to focus.

"No, that was before. This morning or whatever. You drowned me in the bathtub. Why would you do that?"

Emhyr looked worried for a moment, not sure how to respond. It was not too serious an injury, and the court sorceress had assured him that there was no residue left of the poison. Emhyr had experience with an injured, unconscious, and disoriented Geralt, but little with one who accused him of attempted murder in a fever. He set aside the cloth he had been using to cool Geralt's forehead, brushed a sweaty strand from his face, and gently replied, "I assure you, I have not and will never drown you."

Geralt grinned broadly.

"I thought you were going to say, at most, you'll drown me in your..."

"Don't you dare."

"... love?"

If that was possible, his grin only widened. Emhyr shook his head, let out a small sigh, and maybe the corners of his mouth turned up a very tiny bit.

"You won't remember it in a few hours anyway, but fine, on my account, I'll drown you in love. You're an idiot, you know."

"Yours?"

Emhyr sighed once again. Then he leaned forward, breathed a kiss on Geralt's hot forehead, and replied firmly, "Mine."

And that, Geralt thought before a much more restful sleep overcame him, is probably the most pleasant way to drown.

#writing #fanfiction #witcher 3 #emhyr x geralt #geralt x emhyr #Emralt #Emhyralt #Emhyr/Geralt #whump #bath scene #and a sword fight :)

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 36 Pt 1

The days between moving in with Gustaf and New Year’s Eve were filled with never ending chores, because despite Gustaf wanting her to relax and take it easy, Sildie wanted her apartment done. Boxing up the remaining things she put them in storage, still not at ease with getting rid of anything just yet. The hard reality of what if they split still plagued her mind, once bitten twice shy. She had to keep it real, had to think of the long term back up plan in case it all went to hell in a hand basket, especially with four children in the mix. Even more of a chore was deciding on whether to keep the furniture or sell it, what to do with the apartment, did she leave it all as it was or rent it out, sell it, renovate it? Then there was the unpacking of all her stuff in Gustaf’s apartment, their apartment, cleaning, trash pick up, the list never ended. She’d come to the realization moving just sucked.

“Ok stop.” He said one night as they sat for tea and pulled her into his lap. “You haven’t stopped all day. Let it be.” He grabbed and kissed her fingers as she went to tidy up the stack of papers on the table and secured her body to his by wrapping those outrageously long limbs around her and kissing her neck.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get it all done so we can enjoy the New Year’s Eve party.” She huffed.

“You keep running around like this you won’t make it to the party because you’ll be exhausted and asleep by seven.” He kissed her neck and bit down gently. “Let it be.” He growled as she struggled against him to free her arms so she could just tidy up those papers and be done. “We can deal with the rest after January second.” He would stipulate a time as well if required.

“Fine.” She sighed and gave up, relaxing into him. “I just wanted it clean.” She mumbled taking a sip of her tea when he finally let her go, pushing those papers further away from her, she wasn’t going to budge him on it. He was right of course, she’d been hell bent on getting everything squared away before the end of the year. “I just want to start fresh next year.”

“I get it love, I do, but I also want to see you relax.” He kissed that one spot below her ear that made her weak for him.

“That’s not playing fair.” She sighed, that clever mouth bringing her undone.

“Didn’t say anything about playing fair.” He chuckled. “Ready for the party?”

“I guess, just nervous. It’s your family and we’re leaving the kids there overnight.” She was terrified, first night away with grandpa and she had all sorts of horror stories running through her head.

“The kids will just be upstairs with dad, they’re close and with someone I trust emplicitly.” Stellan and Megan had jumped at the chance to have the kids stay over. “I think Valter is staying as well so Brendan will have someone older to hang with and Oona is staying over to hang out with Lily.” He sipped his tea and squeezed her to him.

“I know I just worry.” She mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

“It’s your job, but don’t, they’ll be fine. It’s not like they have far to come if they need us.” It was handy that his dad lived in the same building a few floors up.

“What time’s the party?”

“Starts at six and goes all night, we can disappear whenever.” He kissed her neck and sucked on her pulse. “You and I are going to have an adult New Years.” He growled, her sinful giggle made his cock twitch, he had a plan, an erotic one.

“Are we now?” She leaned back into him and snaked a hand up the back of his neck and onto his scalp, toying with the soft dusting of hair, he’d let it grow out over the holidays.

“Mmm hmmm. We’re taking this year out with a bang.” He smirked against her skin.

“Oh god Gustaf that was terrible.” She scoffed and laughed at his pun.

“Yeah, but accurate.” He kissed her temple and sipped his tea. “I also booked the cabin for January 4 through 15. A little longer than planned but the few extra days were free with the deal.”

“That sounds so good. The kids will love it. Anything we need to take care of first?” She turned so she was sitting sideways on his lap. The kids weren’t the only one looking forward to some time away. She wanted to decompress with just the six of them, giving the kids time to bond with Gustaf. It was important, for all of them.

“Just clothes and maybe some snacks, board games. There’s lots for them to do outside, but it might be good to have some indoor activities in case we get a storm. We’ll need something for them to do that’s not TV and video games.”

“It’ll be a good break. Give you boys some bonding time.” She kissed him sweetly.

“Yeah.” He smiled and hung his head thinking.

“It bothers you doesn’t it? The dad thing.” Her fingers trailed his scruff and he looked at her, those eyes of perfect blue, she drowned in them every time.

“Not bother, more, different, I just need to get used to the idea.” Her kiss was tender. “It sounds so weird to my ears.” He chuckled. “If that makes any sense at all.”

“I’ll talk to them.” She said gently.

“No.” He shook his head and kissed her hard. “No. Leave it alone. They need to do what feels right for them too love. It’s just not something I ever expected from the boys. Lily I can understand, she never knew Quinn, but the boys, it was a shock, still is.” He tangled his fingers into her hair and kissed her, long and slow. “We need time, that’s all.”

“Just know I’ll talk to them if it’s too much.” She wouldn’t see him wrecked over it, hurt over it.

“No.” He smiled at her. “That’s something we need to figure out for ourselves. The four of us need to be comfortable with it and work through the awkwardness of it.” He kissed her softly. “You can’t bail me out of this one love, and I don’t want you too, not if we’re going to be a family. It’s important to them and to me that we work through it no matter how much it terrifies the hell out of me.”

She studied that handsome face, her finger playing with his scruff. “You’re a good man.” He dropped his head and her hand cupped his cheek. “You are. Look at me.” She kissed him sweetly. “Not many would do what you’ve done for them. It makes you so special.”

“I love you, I love the kids. It’s pretty simple really.”

“Sweet man I know you do, and I hope you also know that we love you too, so much.” He kissed her, the slow devastating kiss of the only man that could render her incoherent.

“My goddess, you and the kids are my world.” He rested his head against hers. “It’s been a good year. Sure there’s been some shitty bits in there, but I met you. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me love.”

“A crazy woman who blubbers in your lap after sex, with four kids in tow.” She chuckled. “Yeah, the best.” Her tone thick with sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t change it for anything.” He grinned. “And I blubber, you fall apart.” He flicked her nose playfully.

“Me either.” Her chuckle light. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“We do.”

“So confident.” She giggled.

“Just calling it how I see it. You make one kick ass mum you realize that right?” He said softly.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She scoffed.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Four happy kids after what they’ve been through, that’s pretty fucking phenomenal.” Yes he knew he’d been a part of it, but she needed to hear it. Their lives had turned to shit in a blink, she had brought them to a place where they were thriving. He tried to keep the nudge out of his tone, the one that told her he wanted kids with her. Not your choice mother fucker, he cautioned silently, leave it there. He would not manipulate her no matter how much he wanted it. “Come on.” He said tapping her thigh and squeezing. “Bed, sleep. We’ve done enough for the day and I have a need to hold you close.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit either.” She said softly as she stood and took the teapot to the sink.

“You did all the hard yards love. Take a moment here and there to look at them, really look at them, they’re happy. Sure they’re still grieving and will continue to, but they’re happy.” He tucked a wave of copper over her ear. “You did that, you should be proud of it. Especially as there are so many other ways it could have turned out. Take the win love, you deserve it.” He kissed her sweetly.

“But you’ve helped where I couldn’t, you give them the missing pieces.” She kissed him tenderly. “Remember that ok?”

“I’ll remember. Bed. Come on.” He took her hand in his and tugged it to get her moving.

They snuggled in bed, Sildie almost passing out as her head hit the pillow. Sleep always took her hard, or maybe that was because she didn’t stop during the day, he thought with a wry smile. He let his mind wander as his fingers stroked her head, lips kissing her brow, breathing in her scent soothed him.

The last few days had settled him once he realized Lily was safe and Ana wasn’t going to get through the front door. His nightmare had scared him to the deepest parts of his soul, the thought of losing Lily, any of the kids had him rethinking his life. It wasn’t just him now, he had a family, responsibilities, that if he fucked up, they would feel the repercussions. He would be better, work at being a better man for them.

Next year would be busy, twelve week shoot starting in February, a premier, and hopefully more work. Maybe he’d take something closer to home, he thought, it caused him physical pain to think about being away from them for so long. They’d figure it out, they’d make it work, it was just going to tear at him.

He was hoping Sildie took the partner offer, she’d worked hard for it and wasn’t going to let anything get in her way if she decided to take it. A nanny, a housekeeper, something to take the load off when he wasn’t here. His mind chewed it over, flitting from one idea to the next until he drifted. His last conscious thought before joining Sildie in the sleep world was of a brood of kids of their own, it was often on his mind. The heart wants what the heart wants.

“Ok Lily, I’m coming. Good grief.” Sildie groaned as Lily screamed her head off through the monitor.

“Uk?” Gustaf mumbled as she pulled away from him.

“Yeah I’ll get her I’m awake now anyway.” She grumbled.

He watched her pull her robe on, the silk hiding all those delicious curves, and grinned into the pillow. The things he was going to do to her tonight, he mused as he listened to Sildie soothe Lily through the monitor.

“Lily bear, my goodness.” She cooed picking up the screaming child.

“Mum mum mum.” She sobbed as she snuggled in and hiccuped, the tiny girl was well beyond it. “Let’s get you cleaned up huh? Then some snuggles?”

“Mum mum mum.” She was a hot mess, tears and snot, that little flushed face.

“Yeah yeah, I’m here.” She sighed as she cleaned her up and dressed her in some warmer pajamas. “Were you cold little lady? Hmmm? Is that what it was? Cold and needed a snuggle?” She sat in the rocker and tucked the blanket in around her as she curled her in.

He hugged his pillow and smiled at the softness in her voice. There was no doubt in his mind she’d be a good mother, if she could only hear herself with Lily, with the boys. Getting her to see it for herself without pushing was another story.

“And you’re not going to drop any hints either asshole. Her body, her decision.” He mumbled to himself. “God I want kids with you.” He whispered into the dark as Sildie started to hum to Lily.

Pulling the covers back he climbed out of bed and found some clean sweats. It was ridiculous to be up at 4 am when they had nowhere to be until 6 that night. Padding out to the kitchen he put the kettle onto boil and dumped the tea leaves in the teapot. After the tea had steeped he poured Sildie a cup and took it in with him to Lily’s room. He smiled at the sight, his heart melting and constricting all at the same time. His two best girls fast asleep in the rocking chair. Placing the tea down he took a throw from the bed and covered Sildie up, propping her head up with a pillow so she wouldn’t get a crick in her neck. He took her tea back to the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

Drinking his tea alone he had something to eat before heading into his workout room to burn off some energy, hopefully he’d be able to nap later in the day. Slipping on the gloves he started out light, letting his body warm up before going a full hour until his muscles screamed at him.

There was no anxiety, no anger, just the ebb and flow of thoughts and ideas. Things he needed to do next year in his career, with the kids, Sildie, his life had changed, dramatically, from single to father of four. He stopped suddenly and tapped the bag lightly with a fist thinking as it swayed.

“I guess this is how you feel my lovely lady.” He murmured to the bag as he thought on that epiphany some more. “Drowning doesn’t seem to cover it.” He muttered. “Single to father of four.” Maybe that was why the whole dad thing was brutally overwhelming him, he thought, maybe it had been too much, too soon. “Single to father of four.” He repeated and continued with his workout.

His thoughts drifted to their future, what he wanted, what he wanted to give them, provide for them. Sure, he wanted kids of their own, and that decision was out of his hands, at least for the moment. The punch landed softly when marriage fluttered into his mind, he still wasn’t sure if she’d want to be married, or if he was even ready to take that plunge again.

His first marriage wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a picnic either with his addiction hanging over them both like a consistent third partner in the relationship. That was half the problem, their relationship was already on shaky ground before it had even had the chance to grow, to flourish. “I’m a different person now.” He muttered, and he was, he was clean and sober for a start. He’d disassociated himself with toxic people, mainly Ana, but there were more. Greedy, lecherous people only interested in him for what he was, his fame, or money, or his family connections. That’s where Sildie was different, she saw him for who he was, fucked up bits and all. Yes, he was different, he’d changed, and had the most incredible woman in his life. “Next year.” He said softly. “Sometime next year I’ll be asking you.” He grinned. He just had to figure out if it was something she wanted. “That’ll give me something to plan while I’m on set.” He chuckled.

Ripping the gloves off he sat for meditation and let his body relax, inviting the calm in. His breathing leveled out from the exertion and the peace flooded into him. This was a peace he’d fought hard for and a peace he was only able to obtain because of Sildie. She hadn’t given it to him directly, she’d given him understanding, support, and compassion. She’d given him a reason to be a better person, a reason to fight his demons after Ana, because if he was being honest, that fucking bitch had almost put him in the bottom of a bottle again. He’d been teetering on the edge when he’d save a few wayward oranges on Sildie’s threshold.

This year had taught him a lot and given him much more. He’d had his bad days, but the good ones had outweighed those dramatically. Most of all he’d stayed sober, he’d stayed clean, and his state of mind was clearer than it had ever been. Calm and peace settled in his mind, and he’d not been at peace with himself like this for a long time, if ever.

Getting to his feet he wiped down the bag and stowed his gloves before heading for a shower. By the time he surfaced in clean sweats and a t shirt, the boys were at the kitchen island for breakfast.

“Where mum?” Brendan asked as he started making pancakes, Gustaf’s lips twitching a smile at his endearment for Sildie.

“She’s curled up with Lily in the rocker. Lily woke up screaming at four this morning.” He yawned, putting the kettle on to heat up for a fresh pot of tea.

“Ouch.” The teen winced.

“Yeah. It was a little rough.” Gustaf chuckled. “Let them sleep, we’ll stick to quiet time this morning ok?” He looked at the twins and they nodded.

“Can we play Harry?” Finn asked as he snatched a hot pancake from the plate.

“Volume down low and we might go for a walk later, get out for a bit if the weather is good, so no grumbles when we do ok?” Both boys nodded, they knew the rules, grumbles meant shortened game time. “What about you B? What are you up to today?”

“Chokladbiskvier, I thought we could take them to grandpa’s tonight.” He said flipping a pancake.

“Only if you want to, there’s no need to. My dad has the party catered.” Gustaf saw the kids eyes light up. “Christmas is for family, New Years is a little more of a party.”

“I want to.” The teen grinned.

“Then have at it. And. Yum.” He elbowed the kid playfully before pouring the water over the tea leaves.

“If I have time I might even make Kladdkaka.” Brendan said on the sly.

“Shit kid you’re killing me.” He groaned.

Once the boys had eaten and off to do their designated quiet time activity, Gustaf settled into the one seat with his book, content to have some down time of his own while his girls slept.

“Mum mum mum.” Lily said softly, tapping Sildie’s face with her tiny hand.

“I’m up.” Sildie said, inhaling sharply. “Hey there little lady.” Lily crashed into her and hugged her tight. Sildie smiled as she kissed the toddlers head. “Shall we get cleaned up and go have some breakfast?” She laughed as Lily bounced, happy and content on her lap with her usual chatter for her dad dad. Her ass was asleep and she smiled at the throw and pillow tucked in around her. Gustaf had obviously come to check on her at some point. With a clean Lily she shuffled out to the kitchen and a wonderful smell of warm cookies. Brendan had been cooking up a storm again and she was so thrilled for the boy, something that brought him so much happiness in a year where things had gone to shit in more ways than one. They’d all come a long way since their parents passed. Maybe Gustaf was right, maybe I am good at this mum thing, she thought and then snorted before kissing Lily’s head. It was only better because of Gustaf, she was drowning before he came along and swept her off her feet, cleaning pasta sauce from her floor.

He loved that look on her face, her body, she’d slept and slept hard, total relaxation. Saving his page he got up and wrapped his arms around her waist as she sat Lily in her high chair with a pancake.

“Morning lovely lady.”

“Morning.” She yawned. “Did you get some more sleep after this one made a ruckus?”

“No, but I’ll take a nap later.” He kissed her temple and let his hand wander under her robe out of the line of sight of the boys. He growled and palmed a breast gently. “Fuck I love the feel of you.” He nipped her ear as her soft moan escaped, that spot below her ear betraying her as he kissed it. “You might want to nap today, you’re gonna need every ounce of energy for what I have planned for you tonight kitten.” He murmured, turning her so she faced him. He gently gripped her chin and kissed her slowly, patiently devouring every inch of her mouth. She was breathless and struck mute by the time he let her up for air.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” Her chest heaved, pussy throbbed, god she wanted him to bend her over the table and fuck her.

“I know.” He kissed her again tenderly. “Sit down I’ll get you some un mangled pancakes.” He chuckled at seeing Lily’s shredded breakfast on her high chair table, the child quite content making an absolute mess of herself and offering crumbs to Sildie.

The man certainly knew how to kiss a woman, she thought as she sat near Lily and watched Gustaf walk to the kitchen. How was it he made her tummy flip just by looking at those thighs, that ass, the roped muscle of his arms, those hands? Because you know what’s under all those clothes, the little devil on her shoulder whispered, and you like what he does to you, all of it. “Yes I do.” She muttered and smiled as Lily tried to feed her some squished pancake.

After Sildie had eaten Gustaf forced her into the one seat with her book. With his hands braced on the arms of the chair he leaned down and kissed her. “I don’t want to see you get out of that chair unless it’s for the bathroom.” He murmured and kissed her again. “Rest love, please. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends these past few days and I don’t want you burning out or getting sick.”

“Only if you rest too.” She trailed a finger down his jaw, over his scruff, along the column of his throat, before fanning out her fingers over his chest. That chest, she thought, all hers and damn it if she didn’t love curling into it, the safety and security she felt when she did.

“I’m going to entertain Lily, which is rest enough.” He kissed her again and left her to read.

She watched him stretch out on the floor, his body caging Lily against the corner of the room, she’d have to climb over him to get out. Looking around the apartment she smiled, the twins quietly figuring out the next puzzle on Harry Potter, Brendan in the kitchen baking, experimenting with whatever flavors he desired, happy. On the last day of the year, there was this surreal calm that had enveloped the apartment and the people in it, and she couldn’t deny that it felt really good. Gustaf was right, the kids were happy, she’d brought them to a place where they could be settled and start their life again. It wasn’t just her though, she thought, as she watched Gustaf. They were happy because of this gorgeous man laying on their floor playing with a child that wasn’t his by blood, but his in every way that mattered. He’d given them a home, a family unit.

I want more days like this, she thought, that was her goal for the coming year, more time with the kids, more time with Gustaf, more peace in their lives. What about making partner, the little voice in her head said softly, what about your dreams, your hopes? If Dana could manage her own firm and three kids with another on the way, I sure as shit can manage the four she handed me, she thought with an indignant huff. She’d thought about what Gustaf had said, get a housekeeper, a nanny, she didn’t have to do it on her own anymore so why make it harder on herself? A housekeeper would be helpful, laundry, pick the kids up, get dinner on, especially if she was working late, and especially when Gustaf was away. The only issue was cost, because she wasn’t going to expect Gustaf to pay for it all. Quinn and Dana had used one but they had dual income, maybe she could get Alice to come work full time? Do the half and half payments with Gustaf? “Now there’s a thought.” She mumbled and kept reading.

She was so engrossed in her book she didn’t notice Gustaf had fallen asleep until Lily started to get upset that dad dad wasn’t playing with her anymore. Sildie climbed out of the chair and lifted the child out from her makeshift compound. She took her to get changed and had Brendan watch her for a moment. Kneeling beside Gustaf she gently lifted his head and placed a pillow under it, grabbing the throw from the couch she covered him enough to keep his torso warm, he was out cold and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

“Sleep love.” She murmured, before collecting Lily from Brendan and sitting with the child to read to her.

He woke up with a tiny child using him as a jungle gym. The place was quiet apart from Lily chattering dad dad, how long had he been out? Those lips he craved pressed against his temple and he snaked an arm around Lily so she didn’t fall as she flopped over his hip with a giggle.

“Time to wake up sleepy head.” Sildie murmured, kissing his temple.

“Wow I bombed.” He yawned rolling to his back.

“You did. It’s nearly four.” Her chuckle was humorous.

“What! Shit!” He huffed. “Didn’t mean to sleep that much.” Scrubbing a hand over his face he sat up and pulled Lily into his arms, the child hugging her dad dad. “Did you get a nap?”

“Sort of, this one crashed out for about two hours. We snuggled.” She helped him to his feet and went to make tea as he wandered into the kitchen, Lily curled in, that wonderful cookie smell still lingering on the air.

“Damn those look good.” He said to Brendan at the sight of the chocolate coated Chokladbiskvier.

“These are for us, I packed up the rest for the party already.” Brendan said quietly.

“I can have one?” Gustaf grinned at him like the big kid he was at heart.

“Yeah.” B chuckled shyly, the teen was still getting used to having free reign of the kitchen.

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled as Brendan pushed the plate over to him. Instead of taking one or two, Gustaf grabbed the entire plate and took it to the table.

“I meant one cookie.” Brendan laughed.

“Ahhh but you didn’t stipulate. I’m taking one. One plate, that just happens to have all the cookies on it.” He bundled the kid into him for a hug. “They look and smell divine. I won’t eat them all I promise.” He chuckled.

“You have to watch this one.” Sildie said to Brendan as she brought the teapot to the table.

“Apparently.” The kid laughed and hugged Gustaf tightly.

“Go take a shower and get cleaned up, make sure you’re packed for tonight.” Sildie said gently. “Finn, Liam, you too. Finish up your game, go pack and get cleaned up.”

“Mum mums cracking the whip.” Gustaf mumbled to Lily, kissing the girls head as he snagged a cookie.

“I heard that.” She scoffed and stared at him, the cheeky twinkle in his eyes made her smirk as she poured the tea.

“Keykey.” Lily chattered to Gustaf, her little hand squeezing in and out of a fist at the cookies.

“You want one?” Gustaf handed her half a cookie and she demolished it. “Chocolate fiend.”

“You good with her while I go shower?” Sildie said sipping her tea.

“Sure.”

“No more cookies.” She chuckled as that little hand reached out for another.

“I don’t blame her they’re really good.” He kissed Lily’s head and pushed the cookies away from her. He needed to stop eating them too or he’d end up the size of a house.

Sildie showered and dressed, hiding a new set of black lace under her dress. It was a simple figure hugging black wrap dress with a plunging neckline and knee high skirt, enough to have her man drooling before she set foot out the door. She topped it off with a string of moonstone beads.

“I’m going to take Lily’s por...” His sentence stopped there as he laid eyes on her, all wrapped up in black velvet.

“Going to take Lily’s what? Where?” She smirked biting her bottom lip wickedly.

He stalked across the floor, those long powerful legs eating up the hardwood flooring. Gripping her chin gently he looked at her, those ice blue eyes finding his from under her lashes. “That’s a very dangerous game to play kitten.” He growled, that low rumble making her pussy ache for him. His kiss was slow and sensual, yet demanding, his thumb gently prying her lip free from between her teeth. “One day you’ll tease me once too often.” He warned. Oh how he wanted it to be tonight, he thought, silently begging her to do it again.

She felt the power ripple off him, his presence unmistakable raw domination and she loved playing this game with him. Would he spank her tonight if she pushed him, she wondered? Her body betrayed her as a shiver skittered over her.

His low chuckle against her lips told her it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Finish getting ready kitten, I need to take Lily’s portable crib upstairs.” He murmured, lips ghosting hers seductively before he devoured her mouth, leaving her breathless. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He purred as he pulled away from her.

He left her dazed as he walked out of the room chuckling. Collecting Lily’s crib and the boys overnight bags he headed to his fathers. This would be a New Years she wouldn’t forget in a hurry, he’d make damn sure of it. A night to leave all the shitty bits of the past twelve months behind them and start fresh tomorrow.

By the time Gustaf came back for a shower the boys were dressed, and Lily had her sunflower dress on. It was a favorite of his, something he’d found on sale before Christmas and bought it on a whim. Simple yellow gingham with embroidered sunflowers along the hem, perfect for his little ray of sunshine.

She couldn’t help it. Biting down on her bottom lip she groaned softly as Gustaf came out of the bedroom a while later in black thigh hugging denim and a crisp white shirt. His eyes met her across the tops of the boys heads and she saw the smirk twitch at his lips, he knew what that shirt did to her. Moving over to her he pocketed his phone and keys before brushing her blood red stained lips with his thumb, prying it from her teeth again. “I’m not beyond putting you over my knee tonight kitten.” He growled before kissing her, slow and erotic as her system trembled. “Mmmm, you like the sound of that don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, because he knew damn well what the thought of it did to her.

“We need to go.” She choked, breathless and wanting.

“Yes we do.” He kissed her sweetly. “Were not done.” He growled as her finger trailed the patch of chest peeking out of his dress shirt. “Nowhere near done.”

“You’re not playing fair.” She murmured.

“All bets are off tonight kitten.” He nipped her ear playfully. “Nothing I do to you tonight will be fair, but you’ll be begging me to do it over and over again.” He added before stepping away and picking Lily up. “Well don’t you look like the little ray of sunshine you are.” He said kissing the girl until she giggled while Sildie attempted to get her hormones under control. Damn he knew how to get her going, and that shirt, she wasn’t going to be able to keep her hands off him.

They locked up the apartment and climbed in the elevator, Liam pushing the button to Stellan’s floor. “I like this dress.” Gustaf whispered, his hand cupping her ass giving it a squeeze.

“Then you’ll love what’s under it.” She purred, those eyes so seductive as he chuckled before kissing her.

“Fuck I love you.” He grinned, kissing her hard as the doors opened, that wicked smile of hers making his cock throb.

The front door was wide open, Megan greeting them and getting the kids settled, Lily was determined to stay with Gustaf for the moment and snuggled into his neck. Sweet girl I know how you feel, Sildie thought, that’s where I want to be snuggled right now too. Truth be told she wanted to get her hands on him and under that shirt, and he smelled so damn good, pure freshly showered male. With a squeeze of Gustaf’s hand she ventured into the kitchen with Brendan and the cookies, Eija wrapping the kid in an excited hug. Here we go, she thought, jump in the deep end, sink or swim with his family, because she couldn’t stay glued to Gustaf every time she was around them.

“You and I need to talk Kladdkaka.” She said lifting the lid of the container holding the cookies, snagging one and biting down. “God yes, and these.”

“About what?” Brendan asked looking slightly puzzled.

“If it’s ok with your mum I want to hire you to bake for my Sunday brunches.” She said digging out another cookie.

“For real?” Brendan’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.

“For reals kid. My brother told me you were good so I took a full Kladdkaka home with me from Christmas Day and fed it to my staff just to be sure. They asked when your first shift was.” Eija chuckled.

“But what about school and hockey?” He looked at Sildie for some help, way out of his depth, but not wanting to blow this chance.

“I think we can work something out.” Eija said gently. “We can do just the Sunday brunches for the moment, get your feet wet, see how you like it, how you go when school starts up. I can send you the order Monday, you send me the list of ingredients I’ll have them delivered. Don’t change anything from what you use now, that’s what makes it yours and special. Same brands, same everything, don’t change a thing. I was thinking you could cook Saturday and then let me know when they’re done and I’ll pick them up.”

“Every Saturday?” Brendan asked and felt his heart sink.

“No, we can do one weekend a month to start. I don’t want it to be too much. And the bonus is I’ll pay you.”

“Like a job?”

“Like a job dude.” She chuckled.

“Sick.” Brendan looked at Sildie. “Can I? Please?” Sildie could see him holding his breath, the excitement at the offer, his body vibrating.

“A few conditions. School comes first, your grades drop, you’re done. Just like hockey.” She said bluntly.

“No argument from me on that one.” Eija said honestly. “Your grades drop kid, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok, I figured that was a given.” Brendan chuckled.

“Eija’s the boss. You don’t get to tell her what you’re baking, she tells you.” Brendan nodded. “Half your pay goes into the bank, no exceptions. The other half you can save and spend on whatever you like, within reason.” She smiled at him. “Other than that if you want to give it a try, then do it. If you want to think about it, then take some time to think on it. It’s a huge deal, be sure it’s what you want before committing to it. That makes it fair for Eija as well.” She watched him chew on it. The kid wasn’t impulsive to start with, but she wanted to be sure he was thinking about things before making a decision.

“Can I think about it Aunty Eija?” He asked quietly.

“Of course.” She elbowed him playfully. “And it’s just Eija, the Aunty thing makes me feel old.” She chuckled.

“Oh, sorry.” He cringed, feeling he fucked up his chances right off the mark.

“It’s fine kid.” She hugged him tightly. “You weren’t to know.”

“I should have asked first.” He mumbled and Sildie ran her fingers through his hair to soothe.

“It’s ok love she’s not angry.” Sildie said softly.

“Live and learn slick. I don’t hate it, it just makes me feel old, like my brother.” She chuckled. “Alex is a dinosaur.” She said loudly, knowing her brother on the other side of the room heard it as his head snapped to her grinning, Brendan couldn’t stop the snort. “That’s just between you and me by the way.” She chuckled and smiled as the kid lightened up.

Valter came past and hijacked their conversation, stealing the teen away so he could help kick Finns ass.

“He’s a good kid.” Eija said when it was just the two of them, handing Sildie some champagne.

“Not for me, I don’t drink.” At least not anymore and especially when there was a gorgeous man in a white dress shirt just across the room making eyes with her. She wanted to be stone cold sober when he fucked her tonight, she wanted to remember it all. “He is. Brendan’s been through a lot, took a lot on when Quinn passed. They’ve never had aunts and uncles, grandparents. It’s all new for them. Your brother gave him back his childhood, and a family.” She said quietly and cracked the seal on a bottle of water, emotions bubbling up.

“Goose is a special guy.” Eija’s honesty struck a chord in Sildie’s heart.

“He sure is.” Sildie said wistfully as she watched Gustaf, that lean body moving so gracefully. His gaze eventually caught hers from across the room, probably sensing she was watching him. Biting down gently on her bottom lip she smirked as the fire lit in his eyes, could feel the growl ripple from him silently, her finger twirling the string of beads around her neck.

He had to check the audible growl, the overwhelming urge to storm over there, strip her down to the black lace he knew was under that plush velvet dress, and spank her until she screamed, begged him to take her.

“I’m glad he met you.” Eija said softly.

“He makes me ridiculously happy, makes the kids happy.” Sildie smiled.

“He deserves someone like you, Sildie. Someone that loves him for who he is, not what his occupation is, or who he can connect them with.” Eija’s voice caught with emotion. She knew her brother had struggled, with addiction, with Ana, with anxiety and anger. He’d finally met someone that loved him for everything he was and more.

“He’s a very sweet soul.”

“I heard about your work party.” Eija said carefully. “Gustaf talked to me, in case anything gets dragged up in the media.” She added seeing the anger flare in Sildie’s eyes, nervous fingers tapping the island countertop.

“Fair enough.” She banked the fury, this whole Ana thing was bigger than her and Gustaf, it touched this entire family, she thought as she looked at Alex. She had to remember that.

“For what it’s worth I’m sorry.” Eija said quietly.

“Eija you have absolutely nothing to apologize to me for. Or like Gustaf likes to tell me, you don’t get to apologize for her. Ever.”

“Well if you need a hand burying the body let me know, I’ll grab the shovel.”

Sildie snorted. “Gustaf was right, we are so alike.”

“Nobody fucks with my brothers, especially Goose. He’s been through too much.” Eija was scrappy, and that’s what Sildie liked about her. She spoke her mind, told it to you straight, no bullshit, and no fucks given if it hurt your feelings. And she was fiercely protecting of her brothers, especially Gustaf. “Is your friend going to be ok?” She asked. Sensitive and emotional under it all, but fierce. “The lawyer?”

“I don’t know, the last I heard from Lucas she was out on bail, I don’t know when or if a court date has been set yet with all the holidays. I’m hoping it’s just a quick hearing and he can move on.”

“Will you keep me in the loop?” She asked.

“Sure, as much as I can. Lucas can’t tell me much as it’s an ongoing investigation, but if I hear anything I can text you.” She studied Eija. “You want to see her go down in court don’t you?”

“You bet your fine ass I do.” Her tone full of fire. “I want to see her fucking face when karma pays that bitch a visit.”

“No outbursts, no contact, no disruptions. If you do it could hurt Lucas and potentially drag Gustaf and yourself into the middle of it.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely fucking right.” She sighed. “Damn it.”

“That’s what she’ll be trying to do. She wants a reaction, don’t give her one. Promise me Eija, or you’ll get no updates from me.” Eija could see she wasn’t fucking around. “It can get much worse from here, for you, Gustaf, me, my kids, I’m trying to stop that from happening.” Sildie needed to reign Eija in, if not things could get complicated.

“I promise. I want to know what’s going on but yeah, I get what you’re saying.” She looked at Sildie and saw the fear her brother had mentioned. “She won’t get near your kids Sildie. Goose won’t allow it.”

“I know, I’m more worried about what it’ll do to him.” She said softly, the terrified look in his eyes that morning he’d had the nightmare haunted her. “I can’t watch her shit storm take that peace he’s fought so hard for from him too.” Sildie looked at her and had to say it, just to be absolutely clear. “Don’t make me lawyer you. Because I’ll do it to protect those I love Eija, including you, especially your brother. He’s gone through too much to carve that bitch out of his soul, I don’t want this thrown in his face more than it has to be.” Memories of Gustaf burning the notebook flittered into her mind, the baby bootie.

“I don’t want this to hurt my brother either. You have my word, I’ll behave. I just want to see her go down.” Eija promised.

“I’ll see what I can do when or if it goes to trial. At the moment it’s just between Ana and Lucas. With a bit of luck we’ll be left out of it.” Wishful thinking, Sildie thought, but she had to hold onto something.

“Sounds good to me. Goose was right, you’re scary as fuck when the lawyer comes out.” Eija grinned.

“Oh, I can be scarier.” Sildie stated bluntly. “Gustaf knows just how scary.” She added thinking back to the night in his workout room where he’d spiraled and she’d let him have it.

“No doubt.” The muttered reply making Sildie smirk.

He watched her as she spoke to his sister, happy that they seemed to get along, admired Sildie for having the balls to clear the air with Eija on Christmas Day, that hadn’t been easy. His woman in black velvet, curves on full display, the way her fingers toyed with that damn necklace. She caught him staring, the shy smile with a hint of the erotic goddess he knew was under it all.

“You’re so fucking gone over her.” Bill snorted, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“Yeah.” His goofy grin said it all, totally smitten. “And this one.” He added, as he picked Lily up when she wandered over to grab him by the leg. “My Lily bear.”

“She’s the cutest thing.” Alex said, coming over to stand with them. Lily eyed him and snuggled into her dad dad, she still wasn’t too sure of the oldest brother. She would be with time, Alex was just never home long enough for her to get used to him.

Sildie watched as Gustaf put Lily down, Oona waddling over and grabbing his leg, the two girls dancing and bopping at his feet. Her heart melted as he took a hold of Sam’s three month old, his hands dwarfing the baby, but it was his face that sucker punched her. Gustaf sat and cradled the baby, joy and adoration pouring from him. Did she want that with him, could she give that to him, she wondered, as the all familiar questions kept repeating in her mind like a cracked record?

They spent the early part of the evening apart, Sildie was determined not to hang on Gustaf like a lost puppy. She was a lawyer damnit and this was just his family. She had to get used to being around them, with them, and without Gustaf as a safety net. There would be times he would be away and they would visit, and she wanted to be comfortable visiting them, with or without the kids.

She smiled as Alex walked over and put Eija in a loving headlock, she missed that playfulness you could only get with a sibling. The both of them keeping her entertained and helping her to relax. Alex was reliving an exceptionally funny story when Gustaf caught her eye, that smoldering look that had her almost crossing her legs as her pussy throbbed. His gaze raked over her body, undressing her as it went, the heat rising in her. How did he do that, she wondered? Not to be outdone she nibbled on her bottom lip and saw the desire flash in his stare. Running her tongue over her lips she swore she heard his groan before he whipped out his phone. A moment later her text tone went off.

You’re playing a dangerous game kitten, unless you’re begging me to put you over my knee and spank you with an audience you need to stop.

She could practically hear the growl as the words leapt off her screen. Looking at him from under her lashes she bit her lip again and twirled a finger around the moonstone beads.

Promise?

She texted back and grinned wickedly.

He had to check the groan at her words, his cock twitching, he wasn’t going to make it until midnight if she kept up with her current sinful teasing, he was uncomfortably hard in his jeans as it was. Trying to have a conversation with his family while hiding a massive boner was difficult. Sitting on the arm chair he half tuned into the conversation, half watched his seductive goddess move through the room. Those curves, that mane of silk copper, those cherry red lips he wanted around his cock. The sight of her was seduction enough.

He watched her talk with his father, the slight shift in her emotions clear to him, but not anyone else. She was trying so hard to put her grief behind her and have a good night, making the effort to get to know his family where most others hadn’t bothered to take the time. First rule of the new year, he thought, love this woman with every part of my soul, every second of every day, show her how incredible she is.

“I’m sorry I upset you the other day.” Stellan said gently as he grabbed Sildie another water.

“You didn’t. I’m still processing a lot of grief, it gets in the way sometimes. If anything I’m the one that should be apologizing for running out of there so quickly, it was rude.” She’d felt bad after he’d helped them move the display cabinet that day.

“No need. You’re still finding your feet after the rug was ripped out from under you. It couldn’t have been easy with four kids on top of it.” Stellan watched her carefully, he didn’t want to dive into it too much and have her freak out.

“It’s no picnic.” She said softly.

“It’ll settle, give it time, lean on Gustaf, on us. We’ll do everything we can to make things easier on you and the kids, especially when Gustaf’s away. Anytime, day or night, Megan and I are just a short elevator ride away and she works from home most of the time.”

“Thank you.”

“I know Gustaf’s said it and I’ll say it too, you’re not alone anymore Sildie. This family sticks together, we help each other out. Sure we bicker and fight, but when we need to we rally, no questions, no judgement.” Stellan pulled Megan over for a kiss before they settled into a conversation about safer topics, his statement resonating with her, family, support, love.

She could see the pride Stellan had for his kids, what they’d accomplished, the lives each one of them had carved out for themselves. In the short time she’d been with his family, Gustaf resembled Stellan the most. That same warmth and kindness she felt with Gustaf she felt from Stellan, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. As they talked and each sibling drifted in and out of the conversation she realized how much she’d missed out on growing up, how much she missed her brother, her parents. The slow seduction from across the room throughout the night was tantalizing. Those subtle suggestive looks, the nibble of her bottom lip, the flirtatious knowing smirk he’d give her as he blatantly undressed her with his eyes. It wasn’t until 11:30 and the younger kids had gone to bed, that Gustaf stole her away from talking to his father to dance, Stellan grinning as Gustaf waltzed her around the room.

“It’s a promise kitten.” He growled at her ear as he pulled her close and swayed, the soft jazz filling the apartment. “The things I’m going to do to you.” He dipped her slowly and kissed her throat. “I should punish you for tormenting me from across the room too.” His tone was that seductive timbre that made her pussy throb. “My sex kitten in black velvet.”

She bit down on her bottom lip to push the issue and he gripped it hard, borderline painful. It always amazed her at how he managed to skate that line between pleasure and pain so deftly. Still dancing he kissed her, slow, sensual, devouring. “Don’t push me kitten.” He purred, his lips ghosting hers as he let her chin go, fingers trailing her body to wrap around hers. “You may get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“God I hope so.” She purred, those ruby red painted lips kissing that one spot on his neck that turned him to mush. “I want to feel you daddy.” She whispered.

“We’re leaving the minute after the new year.” He dipped her again. “Because I can’t wait much longer to have you. Dancing and teasing is one thing, but I want you bound and begging.” He kissed her, tongue teasing hers. “And you will be begging.”

“You keep kissing me like that and we’re not going to make it home.” She muttered as he held her close. His low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest.

“You’ll make it home, I don’t want an audience when I fuck you slowly until you scream my name.” He felt the shiver ripple through her body, now doubt in his mind she’d be wet for him. “I’m going to take my time with you, tie you up, take you apart an orgasm at a time.” His kiss was slow and sinful and if he kept talking to her like this she was going to orgasm right in the middle of the party. “Mmm you like the sound of that don’t you kitten?”

“You know I do.” Her gaze found his, the seductive blue looking back.

“Just say the word and we’ll go.” He smirked, knowing she’d want to dance some more and see midnight, time was it’s own seduction. He twirled her around the room, content to feel her let go and have fun. This was the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen her.

“I see where you get your jazz gene from.” She chuckled, she had to change the topic or she’d embarrass herself. “Your dad has good taste in music, that’s what we’re were talking about before you whisked me away.” She laughed as he dipped her low.

“Fuck me I love that laugh.” He murmured, his lips grazing her temple as he grinned like a fool. “Dad and I are a lot alike.”

“You are. You have the same smile.” She said softly and kissed those lips she craved. “The same kindhearted soul.” He looked at her, eyes drowning in hers.

“It takes like souls to see each other.” He tucked a wave of copper behind her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweet man.”

Gustaf closed his eyes and swayed with her, the joy and happiness on her face as he held her close, the tender touches as they talked and got lost in each other. He was, as Bill had put it, gone over her, so completely. This was what he wanted of for her, the happy bubble, he’d see she got more of it.

“My Sildie.” He murmured as the countdown to midnight started. “You’re the best thing to come into my life.” He rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for walking into mine, into ours, you are my everything love.” She felt so at peace with him, the world on the cusp of a new year, new beginnings, a fresh start. As the clock chimed midnight he kissed her, slow and long, a silent promise that he would take care of her, take care of the kids, become the family he so desperately wanted with her, and they so desperately needed from him.

“Sweet man, I love you.” She whispered, before deepening the kiss. She wanted him, this, family, the feeling of being loved for who she was, baggage and all.

“I love you too.” He squeezed her tightly and danced her around the room. “Now those are the best first words of the new year.” He chuckled and dipped her, that laugh making him deliriously happy.

“There’s so much love in this room.” She said softly as they swayed, the slower song drifting them along with it.

“As family should be love.” He smiled kissing her head and breathing in her scent.

“Thank you.” She murmured.

“What for?”

“For giving me a family.” She whispered and closed her eyes, the stray tears falling as he danced with her cheek to cheek.

“Don’t cry love.” He kissed each cheek, the saltiness of her tears making his heart break.

“Sorry, they’re mostly happy tears.” She chuckled.

“It’s ok to miss them love.” He murmured kissing her tenderly. She was happy, yes, but the undercurrent of grief made things more difficult for her.

“I just hate when it bubbles up like this.”

“Better it bubbling up than holding it in.” He said gently, which he knew she did on a daily basis. She held so much of it in it was a wonder she could hold it together at all, he’d be a wreck. “Talk to me love.” He leaned back slightly as they continued to dance so he could see her face. “It’s New Year’s Eve, air out the mental laundry.” Her laugh was more a snort.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She scoffed

“Try.” He whispered before dipping her low.

“It sounds silly.” And she wasn’t sure of what his reaction would be.

“So let it sound silly.”

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #shattered lives #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago

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Request: Wish You Could Love Me Back (Part 2) Marcus Volturi x Reader

It had been three years since the night you confessed to Caius. Three years since you had gone travelling. You kept the Cullen’s updated in all the different places you were travelling to over the years.

As of recently, the Cullen’s had been distracted with the oncoming visit from the Volturi that they weren’t as aware of your less descriptive messages as of recently. The introductions with the Volturi were pleasant but as always, occurring on thin ice. One wrong move and the situation would escalated before a human could even blink. “How is our dear (Y/N) doing?” Aro clasped his hands with a smile, Caius’ gaze was piercing whilst Marcus stared the Cullen’s down but he didn’t look as present. “They’re still on their travels.” Carlisle smiled. “The last we heard, they were in Germany.” Demetri’s brow crinkled. “When did you hear this?” “About half an hour ago.” Carlisle responded. “(Y/N) isn’t in Germany.” Aro turned to Demetri who pointed in a direction. “Germany is that way.” Demetri then moved slightly and gestured again. “(Y/N) is in that direction.” That was how it began.

Caius insisted that they all got to the bottom of this. It only got worse when none of them could get in contact with you. That was when they took matters into their own hands and hunted you down.

After a few days, Demetri found you. He eyed you, although you didn’t seem to notice him yet. Instead your eyes were fixated on another man who seemed to be waiting for bus. You seemed to note the number and destination of the bus before briskly walking to catch it, keeping your distance from him. Demetri followed.

Just before you could make it to the stop, Demetri grabbed your elbow and you turned sharply barely forcing back your inconvenienced glare. Demetri ignored it. “Well look who it is. It’s been a few years.” You wore a polite smile. “Hello Demetri, it’s nice to see you again.” “We were just talking about you, we had wondered where you had gone. Carlisle hasn’t heard from you.” You eyed the now departing bus with the man inside. You hummed, biting back a noise of annoyance. “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy.” “I see.” Demetri raised an eyebrow, Everything about you seeming off. “I’m sorry, I must be going. Excuse me.” You moved past Demetri who’s eyes followed you with a slight frown. Something definitely wasn’t right and nothing about your demeanor was like the person they knew from years ago.

Of course Demetri followed from a distance and you didn’t seem to notice. You had caught up with the man who had gotten off three stops. He turned into a cobblestone alleyway and you were quick to follow. Demetri caught sight of his coven who also had caught sight of you. The Cullen’s weren’t far behind and Alice suddenly frowned her brow scrunching. Although the Volturi didn’t wait forcing the Cullen’s to move quickly.

What they didn’t anticipate was to all meet up but you no where in sight and the man face to face with them. He scrutinized the Volturi’s some what dated clothing. They didn’t exactly fit the normal description, then he saw they had red eyes. “What the-” A loud bang was heard and the man fell forward. You were a few feet behind him, gun in your outstretched hand. You looked at the man before a smile made its way across your face. Suddenly the scene was chilling for that smile was one of accomplishment. You looked proud of what you had done. You were certainly smug and turned to walk away before everyone moved to their senses and surrounded you.

“Give me the gun.” Carlisle held out his hand with an unreadable expression. Your smile vanished and that was when they noticed how oddly chilling your gaze was. It was as though you were lost yet impulsive. As though unable to keep up with yourself. “No, its mine.” You said. “Hand it over!” Caius demanded, he appeared to be very disturbed by the sight which quickly led him to anger. You sighed, handing Carlisle the gun who immediately unloaded it. Aro nodded to Felix and Demetri. “Clean that up.” He gestured to the dead man. The two nodded, immediately moving. Aro’s gaze moved back to you. “Alec…” He said.You mumbled incoherently for a second before going limp.

It was only when they got to Italy did the situation finally be discussed. “I can’t believe they lied.” Esme began. “I can’t believe they...” She trailed off, unable to say the words as the image of you holding the gun, shooting a man and smiling about it was imprinted on her mind. “We need to understand how it came to this.” Carlisle said, deep in thought. “Alec will be retracting the mist any second now.” Aro mused. “No doubt we’ll get answers soon.”

You leaned back against the desk, humming as you thought of where to really begin. “No lies, no games. Only the truth.” Edward said flatly which made you sigh. “I did exactly as I said at first. It was my intent to travel and I did. I even landed a few jobs but...money was tough after sometime.” “And you never thought to ask us? We’d have given you money.” Rosalie said through a stiff jaw. “I never got the chance, because I was tricked. There was a man, a sweet guy who saw some good in me. Turns out I was a friend of his niece. Well, supposedly it was his niece. I highly doubt that now. Anyway, he offered me a job, working in a bar. No big deal. Eventually the job description got bigger, more favours, each one a little more risky than the rest. By the time I realised i was way in over my head, it was too late to back out.” You shifted, a blank look in your eye emerging that a few in the room noted including Marcus and Caius. “I was taken to another location, kept there for a while before I was trained.” “Kept?” Carlisle repeated. “I didn’t get to go outside. I was confined to a bedroom with a bathroom.” You tilted your head. “You were kidnapped.” Edward said. To the covens surprises a smile grew on your face, much like the one you had after shooting the man. You nodded at Edward. “They never tell you in the movies that the money has virtually nothing to do with it. It’s the people. They’re very good at manipulation. You don’t even realise it’s happening until it’s too late.” You shrugged. “After the training, you live by one choice. Obey orders or die. You know I had a friend once, well, sort of a friend. She didn’t do the order and the sent me to kill her. That’s the interesting part about this business, your co-workers could literally be your executioner.” “Training? What is the training?” Carlisle’s brow furrowed. “Self-defense, how to kill a person, how to clean up evidence, how to stay hidden, all kinds of things. The first always being to break you down so that they can build you back up.” “You never thought to come to us? To any of us?” Caius snarled. “That’s not how it works.” You sang. “Besides, I get paid well.” You grinned nodding to your shoes. “Hence the $200 shoes.” You smirked. “This is ridiculous.” Caius growled. “I don’t even recognise this person.” You didn’t respond, only smiling once again. “(Y/N), how are you, right now?” Carlisle suddenly spoke up making everyone look at you. Your smile faltered slightly but your composure mostly remained the same. “I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” Jasper asked and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been watching you as I listen to you talk.” Carlisle began. “You’re not really here in this moment, are you? You see us but you aren’t looking at us, you’re looking through us. You smile at all the wrong times. You’re recounting this as though it didn’t happen to you but to somebody else.” “So?” You prompted lightly. “I don’t know what you really feel but i think this is your coping mechanism. I think you’ve distanced yourself from all of this for a very long time now. I think you need help.” This time you grinned at Carlisle. “Stay with us.” Marcus finally spoke up. “No.” You responded. “You have to.” Caius said suddenly. “No, I don’t.” “We can’t allow you to go back to that life (Y/N).” Carlisle attempted to reason with you. “You’ll never be found, no one can hurt you.” Caius scowled slightly at your protests. Finally you sighed, nodding half-heartedly and rolled your eyes.

To your surprise, even in a castle, Caius was able to go about his own business and hound you every waking moment. No one had seen Caius as much as you had and it aggravated you to no end. Somehow you found a sanctuary for even a short time with Marcus. You had no idea how you ended up having a heart to heart with him. "Do you remember what it was like to be dying?" You suddenly asked Marcus his gaze turned to you. "I think the human you all met, the one that said goodbye to Caius three years ago, I think they're dead. It's amazing really, how they do it. They break you down and get inside your head and build you back up into their own image." You leaned forward, your arms propping your face in your hands. Your eyes narrowed into the floor on the other side of the room, eyes distant as though consumed by a memory. "But that human isn't gone. They walk around inside my brain, a reminder of who I used to be. A reminder of who I can never be again. Then you're left with just an empty feeling and when that isn't there...pain." "When you told us your story... you would smile. Do you smile as a front? To force yourself from thinking about what happened?" Marcus asked. You met his gaze. you cracked a small smile out of habit and nodded. The empty gaze returning. "I think you're incredibly brave." Marcus spoke up. "You have a fierce heart. It's admirable." Your eyes stared into Marcus just as he did yours. "You're very bright, so I think it's only a matter of time before you heal. You might not be the same person but no one ever is. Growing to be a different person isn't always a bad thing. It's what you do from there that determines the change. This could break you or it could make you." "Why do you have so much belief in me?" You whispered. "Because you've already taken that first step. You've talked about it. You're a fighter, (Y/N)." Marcus leaned forward slightly. "I'm not the same person I was when Didyme died and I'm not a particularly good man. I've done terrible things." "Good people can do terrible things, just as terrible people can do good things." You cut in. "Yet here I sit with you, someone who considers themselves broken beyond repair, listening to someone who has wanted nothing more than to be heard." Marcus said. "How do you know that?" You asked quietly. "Because I felt that for years. I know it when I see it. So I'm going to give that opportunity. All the time. Only when you're ready to talk about it. Whenever you're ready."

Even long after your conversation, his words stuck in your head. Something about Marcus was different. Something about him made you feel safe. It drew you in. In your mind, you wanted nothing to do with it. Shun it out and stamp out the fragile flicker of hope but your heart wanted to nurture it and hoped that maybe grow enough to guide you on where to go from here.

You just about spent all of your time with Marcus. Every hours passing like a second. No length of time seemed to be enough. You had even gotten him to smile or even the rarest quiet chuckle. "You..." Marcus shook his head with a small smile, tearing his gaze from you. "...oh what a human you are." "Uh...thanks, I think." You teased lightly with a smile of your own. "I'd never think of you without a smile. You make me smile." Marcus' gaze reverted back to you. The more time you spent with one another meant the less the two of you could deny your feelings towards each other. "That's because you love me, your loyal human friend." Marcus chuckled. "Friend..." Marcus hummed. "Not quite." "Hm?" "I can see bonds remember. Our bond is very special." "Yeah? What is it?" You asked. Marcus didn't answer. Those kinds of questions the two of you always left hanging.

Marcus knew something was bothering you immediately. You seemed rather sensitive one day. You folded your arms across your chest. "What is it?" "They're waiting, Marcus." You frowned. "Caius...everyone. They're waiting for me to change. Is it that everyone wants me to be the way I was before? Were they better than me?" "We worry about you." Marcus stated. "I don't want that!" You snapped, your breathing quickening for a moment. "Can't it be accepted that this is who I am now?" Marcus thought for a moment, noting this seemed to be the tip of the iceberg. You weren't usually affected by others opinions on you but something had shifted within you and you were much more emotional than when you had first arrived. He was certain something was arising within you but what that was he didn't know. "I accept you." Marcus said quietly. "Just the way you are." You felt a shift in you and Marcus tilted his head. "Are you alright?" You didn't know how to answer. "(Y/N), how are you feeling?" You lowered your head, your lip quivering. "Sad, relieved, hurt." Tears began to cascaded down your face and Marcus immediately pulled you into him. "I-I don't want to feel that. I'm not ready." "I know, but you are ready and it's coming. You'll get through this and I'm going to help you. You and me. We'll do it together." Marcus said gently.

Marcus remembered that feeling. He knew the pain of a broken heart all too well and whilst you had a completely different circumstances, he was ready to help you fight through it. He pulled you into his chest tightly. "I have you. You're safe. It's alright." "What's happening to me?" You whimpered. "The wall you built to protect yourself is no longer needed and you know it deep down. The wall is coming down because you're ready to let go of all the built up pain. It's coming, it'll be a big wave but you're going to get through it and everything will be so much better on the other side." You shook your head. "Let it go. You don't need it anymore." You clenched your mouth shut, trying to hold back a sob. He felt you grow rigid, your heartbeat accelerating. "Here it comes, little one." Marcus whispered to you. "Everything is okay." You were quiet for a moment before a very loud sob of heartbreak and agony escaped you. "There you go, you don't have to hold onto that pain anymore." You clung to him as you sobbed hysterically.

Marcus stroked the back of your head meeting eyes with Caius in the doorway. Marcus gave him a knowing look. He knew Caius was concerned but the look Marcus sent him not only acknowledged that worry but also assured him.

Marcus wasn't lying. He had you. He knew what to do. "We'll sit like this," Marcus said in your ear. "Until you're ready. Until you fall asleep, until you're hungry... Or if your legs go numb." You cracked a smile through your cries and Marcus wore his own small smile. An hour passed and neither of you had moved but your crying had stopped. "What is it about you that makes me do this? What is it about this place that...feels like home?" You croaked, your throat raw. Marcus sounded less confident in his response and more like he was telling himself more than you. "It'll pass." You turned away from the sink, feeling eyes on you from behind.

Your eyes narrowed on Caius' intense stare. "What?" You snapped and Caius only raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so concerned with me? We haven't been in each other's lives for years and now that I'm here, you can't keep your eyes off me. What do you want?" “To understand how we got here.” Caius responded. "You don't get to do that." You snapped. "You weren't there, you chose her. It's what we decided. It's what you wanted. It's what I wanted. So don't think you get to jump into my life like you never left!" "You left!" Caius growled. "For you!" You yelled, surprising yourself, the first time you had felt real proper anger in real time. You had surprised both him and yourself. "I knew what I was in your life- a temptation. I don't belong in your story!" You took a breath. "You promised your mate forever and I'm making sure you give her it! I am not who you need!" "I love my mate dearly." Caius agreed "but that doesn't change one thing. I told you I’d protect you and that still stands. I’d never let anyone hurt you. They won’t even get to try.” “Why?” “You know why.” You said nothing and eventually Caius said something. “You know I feel strongly for you, (Y/N).” You inhaled sharply, his wife most certainly heard that. “It’s not a secret and it’s my fault. My wife and I are working through this but she’s less hurt knowing that despite my feelings- I chose her. I will always choose her because I love her. However, I know that your heart lies somewhere else now.” Caius paused. “Marcus is a good man. He deserves you. He’s been through enough and I know he could use the light you resonate. With that, I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want you to hold yourself back.” A tear ran down your cheer, surprisingly, a wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t realise that you wanted Caius’ blessing. Yet now that you had it, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t realised before. “Thank you.” You whispered, finally feeling free. You were silent before mumbling quietly. "I don't know when it all went wrong. It just did."

After some time, you were surprised to hear that Athenodora requested to see you. Your stomach dropped. You had heard Athenodora was lovely and kind but when angered could he truly wicked. You had no doubt in your mind that she was no happy with you in the slightest.

Just as you had feared, she sat alone with a grim expression. Immediately you wanted to run for it, despite her knowing you were there. Her eyes immediately locked onto yours. “Come, sit. I am pleased you have come.” You blinked. It was an optional invitation? She noticed. “I imagine this would be difficult for you. It certainly is for me.” That had to be a test. You had to be careful. “It’s very difficult. I hate drama most times.” Athenodora cracked a smile with a hum in amusement. “Your actions don’t say that so strongly but I’d like to hear it from you. Not my husband.” “I truly didn’t mean for this to happen…I felt I had to tell the truth, he’d have known if I lied and I had no intention of pursuing him. I told him before I left and that was it. I didn’t keep in touch or anything.” You explained. Athenodora slowly nodded, rethinking your words and processing the information. “I see.” “I know you might not believe me, but i promise I never had any intention to pursue him. I totally understand if you hate me for this.” You said. “Hate you? I don’t hate you.” She shook her head. “Hate is such an excessive word. Would you mind if I spoke my mind?” “Go on.” You nodded. “Caius tells me everything. I’m his wife, that is our marriage. We don’t keep secrets. He told me you were young but looking at you now, I can really grasp what he meant. For that reason whilst I am angry at the situation, I cannot be angry with you.” She leaned forward slightly. “You’re young now and were younger when this happened. I know what it is to be young and impulsive and things would be very different if you did actively pursue him. Caius and I discussed that and I wanted to meet you to be certain. This I am satisfied with and willing to ignore. I’d appreciate if we start again and move on from this.” “Really?” You felt relief wash over you and Athenodora nodded. “Indeed. Meeting you today showed me you’re a remarkable person. I finally see what Caius and Marcus see.” She cracked a small smile. Athenodora sat back, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me about yourself and Marcus.” “We spend a lot of time together. He’s very different from anyone I’ve ever met.” “He is, isn’t he?” Athenodora mused. “Unfortunately he was never the same after our beloved Didyme died but with you, there is a glimmer of hope there. I see it.” Her eyes glanced back to you after a moment of thought, noting your silence. “You don’t agree?” “I’m not sure, if I’m honest.” “Speak your mind.” She prompted you. “Are you sure?” Athenodora hummed, her demeanor slowly changing and melting to a more mothering nature. Although it was apparent she remained reserved. “I’m concerned I might break his heart.” You admitted. “I’d say you’re putting it back together. From what I hear, you’re sweet, no matter the last few years. I don’t think you would break his heart. I don’t think you’re willing to try. In fact, you seem too exhausted.” “I am.” You said quickly. “I am so tired of everything.” “You try to control things in your life. You have for a few years. Perhaps it’s time to let go and stop trying to control life.” After a moment of silence she leaned forward and out a cold hand on your knee. “You’re not hurting anyone because of your feelings for Marcus.” It felt inevitable that you’d have to admit your love for Marcus, although you wanted to hold it in as much as you could. You couldn’t be forced to walk away again.

You were passing in the hallways when you found Marcus walking in the opposite direction. You both stopped in front of one another and your mouth had gone dry, no words coming to mind.

Suddenly, Marcus lovingly stroked your face as you looked at him. Completely vulnerable, the pain he felt fully visible, the same pain he still very much felt and the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be his happy ending. “I need you to do something.” He whispered. “If I may be so bold to ask.” You put your hand over his. “What is it?” You whispered. “If we take this path…” Marcus’ voice barely managed out the next words, barely a whisper. “Please don’t leave.” You knew what he meant immediately. He had barely survived Didyme’s death. For him to lose you too…it would destroy him completely. You knew there was a deeper meaning to the promise. He wasn’t talking of leaving the Volturi, or even Italy. He meant leaving him. He couldn’t face losing you just like he did Didyme. You took a breath. “I’ll be around for as long as you want me to be.” After a moment of silence, you spoke again. “Did you mean it? What you said before about our bond?” You asked, barely remembering that Marcus had your hand enclosed in the two of his, idly tracing patterns on it. “Yes.” He responded. “I see every tiny detail of people’s relationships.” “Meaning…?” “Meaning I know that you no longer have feelings for Caius. I know that we are…” Marcus trailed off. “I can’t bring myself to say it either.” You slowly nodded. “I feel like if I say them then I’m making a decision…a decision that could hurt you in the end. I don’t want to hurt you.” “I don’t want you to hurt me either.” You couldn’t help the small chuckle escaping you, even noticing Marcus had cracked a smile at his own joke. You never met his gaze and took a breath. “I love you. There. I said it.” There was a silence before Marcus responded. “I love you too.”

#request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #marcus volturi #caius volturi #one shot #oneshot #part 2

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 26 – Faint

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregiver: Stray Kids

Jeongin’s POV.:

When I woke up this morning and glanced at my alarmclock, my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I had slept in and was really late for my vocal lessons. It was always difficult when we had individual schedules because there was no one who’d make sure everybody is up on time. Jumping out of bed I threw on the first clothes that got into my hands, running a hand through my hair to smooth it down and grabbing a piece of gum instead of brushing my teeth. I left in a hurry, skipping breakfast in favor of meeting my vocal teacher on time. He was a very nice guy, as long as you didn’t make him wait. I usually preferred to be a little early but today I was satisfied when I ran into the studio right on time. From that point on it seemed like even though I didn’t have a great start into this day, it would go smoothly now. After vocal lessons I’d be meeting the rest of my group and the remaining day would consist of dance practice, so I planned to grab a bite to eat in between as kind of a late breakfast early lunch. Practicing a new song, my teacher asked me to sing it once more towards the end of the lesson even if it meant for me to stay a few minutes longer. Of course, I didn’t complain and received lots of praises for the progress I had made. Sadly, I was late now once again and not wanting to disappoint my hyungs, I sprinted straight down to the practice room. Bursting through the door panting, Hyunjin patted my back laughing: “Relax, you’re still on time.” I was slowly catching my breath and we started stretching. The choreography we wanted to work on today was a complicated on. Not only were the different moves challenging to coordinate, but it was also very fast. After practicing for only fifteen minutes Han lay on the ground complaining about his muscles burning only to be mocked by Hyunjin which ended in both of them play fighting each other on the floor. Chan wasn’t really having it with them today. “Guys, we haven’t even really started yet. I want you to take our practice sessions serious. We’ll get nowhere if you’re only fooling around the entire time. Your behavior is especially unfair on the rest of the members who are willing to work hard to achieve our dream”, Chan had stepped into full strict-leader-mode and the two fighting members immediately got up from the ground and onto their positions in our starting formation. Nobody, I tell you nobody wants to get a talking to from Chan when he is disappointed and I could fully understand why Jisung looked slightly panicked. He was just his usual goofy self and had no intention on holding our group back. As Minho went to start the music again, the mood in the practice room had changed. Everyone was serious now, trying their hardest to get the moves down mistake-free. There was no joking anymore between the rounds, if that was due to fear of Chan or simply because no one really had a breath to waste on speaking, I didn’t know. An hour into practice we had our first break wordlessly sipping on our bottles while trying to catch our breaths. Seungmin was lying in the center of the room spread out like a starfish whining quietly as Chan announced the end of the break. I walked over laughing and offered him a hand, grinning widely as he took it and let me pull him back onto his feet. He returned my smile before we both got into position.

We continued dancing but the music was stopped frequently to fix mistakes. During on of these times when Minho demonstrated the segment we were working on again, I suddenly felt dizzy. Hyunjin was standing closest to me and I wrapped my arms around him. He was the cuddliest member and it was easy to disguise me moment of weakness as a hug, holding on to him till the dark spots had faded. Hyunjin didn’t question me and instead hugged me back till I let go and returned to me spot, painfully aware of the warning look Chan shot my way. Chan-hyung usually was a bit more lax when it came to me, seeing as I was the maknae, but still he wanted me to work hard. I wasn’t going to disappoint him and kept giving it my all, throwing all my energy in every move I made. It paid off as I got many praises from my hyungs, especially from Minho and Hyunjin. That made me really proud and smiled at them brightly. I kept up my happy exterior but inside it slowly got harder to focus. As time passed I slowly started messing up, the moves I had pulled off precisely earlier had turned more sluggish, if I even managed to pull them off at all. It felt like my brain was always one step behind and apparently so was my dancing. “Alright, take five!”, Chan announced, resulting in my members either dropping to the ground groaning or bending over with their hands on their knees panting. “Jeongin-ah, you did so well earlier, don’t slack-off now” – “Yes, Chan-hyung, I’ll do better next time.”, I replied out of breath. My stomach had started to hurt a bit but I saw no reason to bring it up in front of my hyungs, knowing it was just hunger pain and would go away as soon as I had a meal later. My hyungs would only worry unnecessarily, they always worried about me. I mean, it’s kind of cute having some overprotective older brothers and I always felt loved around them. On the other hand though, I was an adult like them and I wanted to be their equal, not always be looked down on. I could handle myself, or so I thought.

Our break was over almost as soon as it started. Unsurprisingly to me, I didn’t do better the next time. The few sips of water I had taken changed nothing about the floaty feeling that had settled in my brain. I felt like I was in a dream, my mind and body not really connected. That showed in my dancing, as my body struggled to follow the instructions given by my brain. Seungmin walked over to me: “Hey, are you ok, Innie? You had it all down perfectly fine earlier, why are you struggling now?” Ugh, bad choice of words. I hated to have them think or know I was struggling. Putting on a smile I replied: “I’m fine, hyung. Just getting a little tired but I’ll try harder next time.” – “Don’t worry, Innie. Most of us are, we’ll call it a day soon. All of you, give it your all for maybe thirty more minutes, then we’ll go home, yeah? Just thirty more minutes”, Chan encouraged after noticing the frown that had spread amongst the group at my comment. I nodded looking at the ground, more in my own world than really present in the practice room. Seungmin patted my shoulder before walking back to his position and I stood up a bit straighter. Thirty minutes, I can get through this. My stomach grumbled but was luckily drowned out by the music that had started up again. Those thirty minutes felt like an eternity but finally Chan clapped his hands: “Alright guys, we’re done. Let’s pack up.” While most of my hyungs dropped to the ground groaning, I walked over to my bag, afraid I wouldn’t be able to get back up if I lay down too. Picking up my water I chugged the rest of the bottle down before shoving it into my bag. I had given it my all but I kept messing up till the very end and I knew Chan was slightly disappointed in me. I checked the time and to my surprise it was already seven in the evening. Not being able to resist anymore and not caring about how I’d get up later, I sat down next to my bag leaning back against the wall. Closing my eyes, I listened to the whines as the other members pushed off of the ground to pack up their bags too. “No sleeping yet, Innie!”, Hyunjin laughed shaking me. Giving him a tired smile, I pushed myself up and swung my bag over my shoulder. That might have been a little fast… As soon as I was upright, my vision turned black and I drew a shaky breath as I felt myself fall sideways.

Hyunjin’s POV.:

God, as much as I love dancing, today was cruel. I dabbed my face dry before stuffing my towel into my bag and packing everything up. Our maknae seemed to be asleep, having already packed up. I felt sorry for him, he did really well when we started but towards the end he seemed to have completely run out of energy. I walk over and shake his arm lightly. He smiled at me cutely before getting up but then my heart almost stopped. His smile was gone suddenly, face whiter than the wall behind me as his eyes closed and he crumpled down. I managed to grab him just in time before he could hit the ground. The exhaustion I had felt just a moment prior vanished as adrenalin seared through my veins. “Fuck, Innie, hey. Look at me!”, I yell, shaking his arm roughly. He didn’t even move. Chan hurried over and knelt down next to me. Placing one hand on my shoulder to calm me down, he used the other to gently pat our maknae’s cheek: “Innie, you hear me?” Still no reaction. Realizing what was going on, Minho ran over, lifting Innie’s legs up a bit while the others were frozen in shock. With tears running down my cheeks I give my dongsaeng another shake, hearing Han sob behind me. Groaning, our youngest squeezed his eyes shut before blinking slowly. “Hey, you back with us?”, Chan asked, leaning over Innie trying to catch his attention. The younger hummed, pressing his hands to his head mumbling incoherently. “Sorry, what was that?”, Chan leaned closer. “’m dizzy, head hurts”, Innie whispered, breaking my heart. Minho placed his legs down gently, allowing him to sit up as soon as he was ready to. Wiping my tears on my sleeve, I pick his hand up, rubbing comforting circles on it with my thumb. Han came carrying a water bottle and offered Innie some, but although he sat up slowly the younger shook his head and pushed the bottle away, wrapping an arm around his stomach. That’s when Chan’s interrogation started: “Are you ok now?” a nod. “Do you know why that happened?” a shrug, “You drank enough water?” another nod. “Ate enough?” hesitation. “I didn’t really eat yet”, our maknae mumbled, trying to hide his face with his hands. I was shocked, my baby had been starving all day? No wonder he didn’t have anymore energy. I scoot closer, wrapping him up in a hug: “Innie, why would you do that? You’re so skinny, you need to eat. Where do you think you’ll get the energy to dance from? Hm?” – “H-hyung, I’m sorry. There was no time.”, he sounded genuinely ashamed now. “There is always time for food”, Chan argued, resulting in Innie’s lip starting to shake a bit. “I slept in a-and barely arrived to m-my vocal l-lesson on time a-and then the l-lesson took l-longer and I couldn’t e-eat because I-I sprinted straight h-here.” I tightened my grip as the tears spilled, my dongsaeng shaking slightly in my arms. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We would have given you a break to eat something. We had just assumed you had eaten before practice like we did”, Chan frowned, reaching out a hand to wipe the tears from Innie’s face. “I-I d-don’t know.” I looked up, seeing Seungmin crouch down next to me. “Innie, can you look at me?”, the second youngest smiled sadly while stroking his dongsaeng’s arm. Making eye contact he opened a granola-bar passing it to the youngest.

Jeongin’s POV.:

Trying to calm my breathing, I started chewing on the granola-bar handed me and thanked him with a shy smile. This was not how I had planned my day to go. My attempt to not worry my hyungs ended with me fainting, giving them quite a scare. I leaned my still spinning head back against Hyunjin-hyung’s chest. With every bite I took, I was made more aware of the starving empty feeling in my tummy and the bar was finished quickly. “Let’s go home and get you a proper meal”, Hyunjin cooed, getting up and pulling me with him. Bad idea, my legs were shaking and I clung onto his arms trying to keep my balance. Seeing me sway, Chan-hyung quickly stepped closer and scooped me up in his strong arms. “Sorry”, I mumbled, weakly leaning my head on his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. We are sorry, it is our job as your hyungs to take care of you and we didn’t even notice our maknae was starving”, Chan replied sounding guilty. Great, now he was blaming himself, that was absolutely not my intention. “’s not your fault though, should be old enough to take care of myself. You’re a good hyung.”, I tried to reassure him.

Changbin’s and Han’s search of their bags had turned up two more protein bars that I tiredly nibbled on while Chan carried me back to the dorm. In any other circumstances I would have fought him, insisting to walk on my own but I had accepted defeat the second Hyunjin had pulled me to my feet. One of the others, supposedly Minho, must have taken my bag because I found it in my room later, but I was to out of it to really know what was going on around me. I knew that Felix was walking next to Chan because he kept talking to me: “You know, we made pancakes for breakfast this morning.” Ouch, that did spike some jealousy in me. I loved pancakes. Seeing my frown, he was quick to add: “Don’t worry, we know you love them so we set some aside. I’ll go get them as soon as we get home.” Oh my god, I’ll have pancakes, that might even save my day. Although I still feel shitty physically the expectation of getting pancakes soon was something to look forward to.

Back at the dorm Chan put me down on the sofa while everyone else went to put their things away and then wait for their turn taking a shower. Felix had gone straight to the kitchen and Chan followed soon after. I could hear them arguing: “Don’t you think he should eat something healthy first, Lixxie?”, Chan frowned at the younger who lathered my pancakes with a generous amount of Nutella. “Nah, trust me hyung, that’ll get his bloodsugar up in no time” – “Yeah, no doubt.” – “I trust Felix-hyung on this one”, I piped in from my place on the sofa earning a beaming smile from the younger Aussie. “I guess as long as he eats it’s alright”, Chan threw his hands up exasperatedly as he walked out of the kitchen missing how Felix dipped the knife into the jar of Nutella for a second time while wiggling his eyebrows at me. Boy did he know me well. He also grabbed some strawberries from the fridge, arranging them in a circle around the stack of pancakes yelling after our leader: “Hyung, I added some fruit, it’s healthy now.” I giggled, sitting up straighter as Felix walked over to me. “Thanks, hyungie!”, I beamed as he handed me the plate and I immediately dug in. My last bit of resistance was gone as I tasted the first bit of Nutella on my tongue. Yeah, the pancakes might have been slightly burned but considering who’s cooking skill this was I was quite happy with how they had turned out. I kept switching between bites of pancake and dipping strawberries into the Nutella that was covering pretty much every inch of the plate. Felix sat next to me on the sofa keeping me company while I ate. When I was about halfway through my stack of pancakes, I could feel my energy starting to return. I felt more like myself now, my mind wasn’t a step behind anymore. By the time I was done most of the other members were done showering. Han had taken Felix spot at some point, sending his younger twin to take his turn showering. When Felix came back and took a seat next to Chan the leader laughed at him: “Have you successfully given our maknae diabetes now?” Felix shocked and hurt expression had the group break into a fit of laughter. I stood up to bring my plate to the kitchen and take a shower too as I was stopped by our leader speaking up once more, significantly more serious this time: “Innie, are you feeling alright now?” When he saw me nod smiling, he deemed me emotionally ready for the scolding I probably deserved for not taking care of myself: “Good. Don’t do that again, ok? That was dangerous and irresponsible, you could have gotten seriously hurt. And I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone here when I say you almost gave us a heart-attack. It’s alright, schedules can get busy and tight-packed but if you miss the chance to eat then at least talk to us so we can see how we fit a small snack-break in. Guys, that isn’t only meant for Innie, I know quite a few of you would have acted the same way in order to make it to your schedule on time, so if someone misses their meal, please communicate this information. We will work out a solution together. I don’t want a repetition of today.” Seeing as everyone was quick to agree, I apologized once more before heading off to shower. My hyungs had their own meal as I was getting ready and when I returned to the living room in some comfy clothes, they had already set up for a movie night and we all filed up to cuddle on the sofa and the floor in front of it. I guess no matter how bad my day had started and how much worse it managed to get, my hyungs always had the power to make things times better in the end.

#sick #sickfic #skz #stray kids #fanfic #whumptober #whumptober2020 #jeongin #i.n.#fluff

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

Forsaken | Part 5

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“You’re a fool.”

Looking at the young man strung up beside him facing the same miserable fate as he now held, Jinyoung couldn’t help but scoff. “You are aware we’re both in this together, right?”

“I knew they would come for me one day. You, however, think you’re still protecting that girl and all those townspeople,” he mentioned with a hollow laugh. “You’re a fool, like I said.”

“Have you no hope in this world?”

“Why should I? No one has ever looked out for me once.”

Jinyoung glanced down at his clothing and then that of the young man beside him. There was a stark difference between the worn, tattered pants and shirt he wore to Jinyoung’s cleaner, newer outfit. Sighing, he wondered if you hadn’t saved him years back if he would be in a similar situation to the fellow prisoner, or worse off.

Jinyoung nodded sadly. “Is it bad to be a fool?”

“Only if you don’t wisen up to the way people use you. That girl really made you forget who you are, didn’t she?”

“Do you have a name?” Jinyoung asked and the man shrugged. “Mine’s Jinyoung. I was gifted my name by the person who led me to have hope.”

“And now you’re here and she’s back there. Doesn’t that anger you?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Not if it keeps her safe.”

The man mumbled under his breath incoherently and then turned to look at Jinyoung. “How did she give you a name?”

“Part of it was from where she found me. The rest she gave me. Do you want one too?”

Thinking for only a moment, the man gave a short nod. Glancing around the surroundings as they trudged towards the closest camp for their kind, Jinyoung spotted a circus wagon abandoned in the nearest field. He then looked to the sign outside the farmstead they passed. He grinned. “Jaebum.”

“What does it mean?”

Jinyoung frowned, gesturing his head in one direction and the next. “Jae and Sons from the wagon. And Eunbum Estate. That’s how it works.”

“That’s how those people name one another?”

Jinyoung nodded. “That’s how I got my name.”

“Jaebum,” he repeated, looking at Jinyoung, smiling for the first time along their journey. “It looks like I might become a fool much like you.”

“Being a fool paid off,” Jaebum mentioned the following morning as he stopped at Jinyoung’s side, the pair watching as you helped with hanging out the washing. His friend’s sentence irked him, Jinyoung clenching his jaw momentarily. Jaebum noticed and clapped him on the back. “You need to relax. We both know they played us over the safety of that town. We stupidly did as they told us, mere puppets on a string, when their promises were as empty as our pockets remained. By some sort twist of fate, she lived. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“At the cost of all she knows and this wretched Rebellion. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Jaebum shook his head. “Not while I’m here. It just feels like a peaceful settlement.”

“Except all the men here are owned by the Rebellion.”

“We’re going to break free,” Jaebum proposed and Jinyoung looked at the man smiling at Youngjae running with the stray dog that had chosen this place as its home recently. “We’ll take the ones we care for the most and we’ll leave to someplace else entirely.”

“Nowhere,” Jinyoung murmured. He chuckled before nudging Jaebum. “Now who sounds like a fool?”

“Someone told me a long time ago being a fool isn’t a bad thing if you remain wise about your situation.”

“Wait, wasn’t that you who told me that?” Jinyoung corrected as Jaebum started towards the gathering of people.

He glanced over his shoulder, grinning mischievously. “Sounds like I’ve always been wise then!”

“And I’m still a fool?!” Jinyoung griped, dashing off towards Jaebum and shoving him playfully.

As his longest friend in this world, Jinyoung knew he could count on Jaebum to do anything with him. After hearing about your parents and the tragedy he had fooled himself not to believe could have happened all this time, he had gone to Jaebum to announce the need to leave the Rebellion. Dead or alive, he wanted out and wondered if Jaebum was along for the ride.

He needn’t question it; Jinyoung knew all of the names that came to mind would follow him into the depths of hell if he requested it.

Staring over at you now laughing at something Jackson said, Jinyoung chewed on his bottom lip. Would you follow him as well? He was used to leading his men all these years, but there was once a time where it was you who motivated his actions.

You still held that power over him too.

“You’re here,” you commented when you noticed his arrival in the back field, waving lightly. Jinyoung raised his hand in greeting, feeling shy when the others teased him for it. Taking his hand, you led Jinyoung away from the jeers and sat him down at one of the communal tables. You didn’t let go of him, instead played with yet another of his scars on the palm of his hand.

“Don’t do that,” he mumbled and you stopped to examine his expression. He could feel his ears growing hotter and ducked his head away. “Don’t trace my battle scars. I deserve each one of them.”

“You probably do,” you agreed softly and he glanced at you again. “Did they hurt?”

“Some.”

“Do they still hurt now?” He shook his head and you let out a shaky breath. “Some of them look like they would have been painful to receive so I worried that you-”

“You’re adapting to this world too easily, you know,” he blurted out, blinking with some of the sudden emotion he felt. You dropped your hand away and made no effort to respond. “It scares me.”

“Why?”

“You should hate it here. This isn’t a life I wanted for you.”

“Do you think I wanted this for you as well? It’s out of our hands.”

“Is it?”

“Jinyoung, you became a soldier of the Rebellion because of that day, didn’t you?” you questioned and he grew tense, pulling his arm back. You reached over to stop his retreat entirely, gripping at his hand for answers. “You seemed so surprised over my parents and the townspeople. I put it together with some of the information I sourced from Jackson and-”

“Jackson talks too much,” he grumbled and you tilted your head to the side exasperatedly. “What he does!”

“Well, at least one of you talks! It’s refreshing to have someone who isn’t afraid to tell me what this world is like and not treat me as if I’m a fragile doll who might break!”

Jinyoung went to respond, opening his mouth, only to close it again when he thought better of it.

It made you smile smugly. “See, you can’t even tell me the-”

“I had to steal a crown from the castle. Jaebum and I. If we got the crown, we’d be able to save the town and you. This was done three months after I left, which means they played us entirely.”

You gasped noisily. “You stole a crown?!”

“That’s the least of my sins, Y/N.”

“What else have you done that…” Your voice trailed off then, finally looking up at him, a sombre expression shifting away from your surprise. “Right, you’ve done a lot.”

“It’s not protecting you from a vicious truth that I don’t talk about it,” he replied, sighing a little. “I just don’t like to think of what I’ve done. One foot in front of the other. Until you returned to my life, I didn’t let myself think of the past, not even once.”

“You’re lying,” you whispered, tears welling within your eyes. “Tell me you’re lying.”

“Would it ease you if I had? Why think of a world full of hope when the one I live in had nothing of the sort within it?”

“I thought of you every day. I talked to you as I did the most mundane of daily chores. I wished for you to be beside me like today, putting out washing on the line to dry in the sun. To make a living together, eat together, and fall asleep together. Every day I thought of how doing that with you would make it worth living on. You’re lying, you have to be! You’ve thought of me over the years, Jinyoung. It’s why you’re still alive. Hope? You had it all along. If you had lost it, you wouldn’t be on this Earth. You wouldn’t kill anyone but yourself had you lost it.”

“Enough,” he stated, getting up from the table. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Scared you might share more with me than you want to?” you countered and Jinyoung paused in his retreat to stare at you.

He disliked how easily you were unravelling all the sections within him he had worked hard over the years to pack away into the corner of his mind, allowing him to focus on the task at hand. If you continued to pull at the strings and loosen off each part of him, it would become dangerous.

He was already born reckless; he didn’t need to have you encouraging it.

Deciding he had spoken with you long enough, he walked away hastily, heading to his home to escape the sunny world you had brought into this camp.

“Do you think if you walk away from me that I’ll stop talking?!” you exclaimed, stalking after his retreating back. Jinyoung groaned loudly. He needed space from you right now.

You weren’t prepared to give it, however.

“Jinyoung, Jinyoung, Jinyoung!”

“Y/N, please!” he implored, turning to face you and throwing his hands up in defeat. “You’re never going to stop are you?!”

“No, because when people fight they ought to resolve it!”

“Can’t you see I’m mad with you and need time to cool off first?”

“I’m mad with you also!” you proclaimed, marching past him, and taking the path around the back of the house towards the lake.

Cursing under his breath, he jogged after you, finding you stripping off your outer garments with vigour. He stopped at your side and let out another curse. “Put your clothes back on!”

“Why? I’m mad with you and need to cool off!”

“That water is far too cold right now for you to enter.”

“Then I shall cool off faster!” you snapped back, kicking off your skirt.

“You’re impossible!”

“That’s what I think of you right now!”

“Don’t enter that water.”

You smirked darkly, stepping back towards it. “Why should I listen, you wouldn’t when I said don’t walk away.”

“Y/N, come on, stop!”

You took another step towards it, your heels now within the muddy entrance. You grimaced at the cold surface yet made no attempt to back down. Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair in frustration and as you went to take another step backwards, he lurched towards you, pulling you firmly into his embrace.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, now less brazen in tone. “This isn’t cooling me down any.”

“You’re like ice to touch,” he pointed out just as softly, holding you as close as he could to his body. “I need to warm you up.”

You stared back at him before crashing your lips upon his, kissing one another until the argument was all forgotten.

You approached him a few hours later, surprising Jinyoung with how long you had managed to wait. A wry smile attached to his lips then, waiting for your reaction.

He wasn’t as prepared as he expected himself to be.

Your arms wound around his back from the stool he sat upon, nestling into him. The book he held fell to the desk with a thud.

Jinyoung was certain his heart was beating just as loudly in his chest. “W-What are you doing?”

“You’re all I have left,” you stated in a voice barely louder than a whisper and Jinyoung swallowed roughly. “It amazes me that I can touch you now after all these years and you don’t turn into dust within my grasp.”

“One day I-”

“Together,” you mentioned firmly and Jinyoung turned around to face you. You blinked back your tears. “We’re not parting again, okay? We either live or die together.”

_________________

Part 6

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