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queenshelby · 3 years ago

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Roommates – Part Ten

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,600

Warning: Angst, Pregnancy, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

It was still rainy and stormy outside, but you didn’t care. You needed the fresh air on your face more than anything else right now as you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You walked besides the shore until, eventually, you found a sheltered area besides one of the old seaside castles where you sat down to think.

There was certainly a lot of thinking to be done and, eventually, you reached the conclusion that, what you should do now, is support your friend just as he had supported you following your breakup with James. Your friendship lasted for 12 years so far and now wasn’t the time to end it, nor was there any reason to do so.

But where did it leave you and the fact that you did what you swore to yourself you would never do. You had been intimate with Cillian and that, in your mind, was wrong now that you knew what you knew about Laura.

But why was it wrong, you then went to ponder on? What made it wrong, you wondered? Cillian and Laura were no longer together and, as far as you knew, Cillian never mislead her into thinking that he wanted a serious relationship with her. You knew it was a common theme and argument between them and, at least from his point of view, there were no feelings involved. So why shouldn’t you be with him now?

Of course, you realised fairly quickly that the reason that you should stay away from Cillian was Laura. She is your friend too and she is still hurt and wants him back, no matter how futile her desires and attempts to be with him might be. But does this mean you should deny yourself? After all, it’s been 12 years which it took you to get this far. It’s not that you had ever contemplated to sleep with Cillian, but you certainly were drawn to him now and, therefore, would you be a bad friend if you continued to be intimate with him?

Eventually, you reached the conclusion that the answer to your question was probably yes. Both, you and Cillian, found yourselves in a moral dilemma and, whilst you both slipped once and let your desires for each other get the better of you, it couldn’t happen again. That, of course, was unless the moral compass of the situation changed which made you wonder how it got so far in the first place.

***

When you arrived back home, you saw Cillian in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee and, whilst he acknowledged you, he was silent and waited for you to ask what you wanted to ask.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Laura is pregnant?’ you eventually blurted out, causing Cillian to sigh heavily.

‘Because I promised her that I would not tell anyone until she had her first scan’ Cillian explained almost frustrated.

‘She hasn’t had a scan yet? Cillian, uhm, this is a lot to take in’ you observed and he nodded.

‘Not as far as I know’ Cillian then huffed out, causing you to walk over towards him and grab hold of both of his shoulders.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t care what happened between you and I know said I would stay out of it, but she does need your support with this. You can’t just ignore the fact that you have a child on the way with her’ you said rather harshly, causing Cillian to break down in emotions.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing Y/N, eh?’ Cillian huffed out before one curse after another left his mouth.

‘She doesn’t fucking let me. I want to be part of the pregnancy and support her, not just financially but also emotionally. I want to be a father to this child but she just cuts me out. According to her, unless I get back together with her, I won’t be having any partake in this’ Cillian explained with a heavy heart as his eyes began to tear up.

‘Oh my god Cillian, I am sorry, I didn’t know’ you said surprised by Laura’s action before comforting him.

‘It’s alright. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wanted to stay out of it. I didn’t want to put you into this difficult position you are now in and I also knew that you had your own shit to deal with’ Cillian said, referring to your breakup with James.

‘Have you at least been able to communicate with her doctor? Or her? Anything at all?’ you then asked and Cillian shook his head.

‘No, nothing. I’ve been talking to her but she isn’t telling me much. She changes the topic and then goes on about all this shit that happened between us instead. I don’t even know how far along she is. I tried to get her in with a good obstetrician at Rotunda Hospital, but she hasn’t even made contact with the doctor nor is she registered at the maternity ward. I don’t fucking know what else to do and when I spoke to my lawyer about it, he told me that I can’t do anything until the child is born’ Cillian explained almost shattered.

‘Jesus Cillian…oh my god’ you said before asking him whether he knew about the pregnancy when he broke up with her and, as you had expected, he confirmed that he didn’t. But, little did you know that you just then and there opened up another can of worms.

‘She planned this Y/N, which makes it even more fucked up than it already is’ Cillian chuckled, unsure whether he should laugh or cry about the entire situation.

‘What do you mean she planned this?’ you asked curiously.

‘She had her implant removed without telling me, which is the real reason I ended it. I know she is your friend, but she’s fucking insane’ Cillian huffed out.

You were unsure what to make of Cillian’s comment and asked him to elaborate which is when he finally told you everything that you never wanted to know about their breakup.

According to Cillian, after the night him and Laura shared with Lindsay, which was something Laura organised, Laura became rather jealous and possessive.

Whilst there was no truth to it, Laura believed that Cillian was seeing Lindsay behind her back and that Lindsay was the reason he wouldn’t commit to her. The truth was that, according to Cillian, he never intended to commit to Laura because he simply didn’t think that this was what he wanted. At the time, his divorce with Danielle was going through settlement proceedings and committing to Laura was something that couldn’t do.

You recalled the arguments in the past and Laura pressuring Cillian to make a commitment which he outright told her he wasn’t willing to make.

‘Things had gone too far and she contacted my mother, introducing herself to her. She texted my sister and brother continuously, asking for my whereabouts when I was visiting Cork. She went through my phone checking for messages from other women. Things like that. It became relentless and she knew I was close to ending it. Little did I know that she had a plan in mind to make me stick around’ Cillian chuckled.

‘So, what made you think that she went off birth control behind your back? Did she actually admit to it?’ you then asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘The bruise on her arm and the fact that the bulge from it under her skin was gone, gave it away. First, I didn’t think anything of it but when she did all this crazy stuff, I asked her about it and she admitted that she had, in fact, removed it. She wanted to make me stay by falling pregnant. How fucked up is that?’ Cillian then huffed out and you were shocked.

You didn’t expect that your friend Laura would ever do such a thing, going behind Cillian’s back to fall pregnant and make him commit.

Of course, after he’s been your friend for 12 years you believed him and he was quite obviously emotionally shattered by the situation.

‘So, when did you find out that she was pregnant?’ you wondered.

‘Two weeks later she texted me’ Cillian huffed out before continuing on. ‘She also texted Lindsay who then contacted me. After Laura had harassed her for weeks, she was obviously quite aware of the situation’ Cillian explained.

‘So, you decided to fuck her again? Not a smart move Murphy’ you laughed, causing Cillian to laugh as well.

‘Yeah, I think that was a mistake but I was in a pretty fucked up place at the time and Lindsay just stuck around and listened. I couldn’t really tell anyone else. Firstly, it’s fucking embarrassing and I still don’t know how I am going to explain this to any of my family. Secondly, I promised Laura and, despite of what happened between us, you know why I kept this promise right?’ Cillian said.

‘Yes, I do’ you responded, remembering the suffering Cillian’s ex-wife Danielle had to endure throughout 12 unsuccessful cycles of IVF and miscarriages, being the reason that her and Cillian never had any children together even after having been married for ten years.

With that in mind, you felt awful for your friend. You knew how much he wanted to have children for so many years and you realised that, despite his problems with Laura, he would probably be quite excited going through the pregnancy with her and be a father to his child if she would let him. He wanted to be involved and he wanted to be there for her, but he didn’t want to be with her.

‘Listen, I will talk to Laura, alright? I will try and convince her to let you be involved without forcing you to commit to her’ you suggested, holding onto Cillian’s hands.

‘You said that you won’t get involved in anything between Laura and me and I promised you to keep you out of it’ Cillian then said.

‘I know, but you’ve been my friend for 12 years and, after all the shit we have been through together, we will get through this too, right?’ you said with a warm smile.

‘Thank you. You are amazing you know that?’ Cillian said, finally smiling again.

‘I know’ you winked. ‘Despite, that’s just what friends do right? They help each other out’ you said with a warm smile before, without giving it another thought, giving Cillian a kiss.

Surprised, he gave into the kiss which was gentle and warm.

‘Is that what friends do too?’ he then chuckled when your lips drifted apart.

‘Only under the added benefit scheme introduced into solid friendships as part of this lockdown relief package’ you smirked before pressing your lips back onto his.

Your reservations had gone completely after talking to Cillian about what happened and, whilst you knew you that you were betraying your friend Laura, you found it difficult to sympathise with her at this very moment.

‘So, is this what you want then, despite everything that has happened?’ Cillian asked after you each caught a breath.

‘Yes, I think so. We both have needs and we trust each other, it just makes sense, right?’ you said in order to justify your decision and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Makes total sense’ Cillian laughed before continuing on. ‘I learned from my mistakes Y/N and I was very careful with Lindsay, but not so careful with you last night because, apart from my family, you are probably the person I trust the most in this world. You are most defiantly on the pill though, right?’ Cillian asked somewhat concerned.

‘Oh please, Cillian. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t want to use you as a breeding bull’ you laughed, causing him to raise one of his eyebrows. ‘Yes, I am on the pill and never forgot a single one in over ten bloody years’ you then reassured him and, without any sort of warning, he crashed his lips back onto yours.

Your tongues met as he tangled one hand in the back of your hair, kissing you furiously.

‘I felt as though you held back last night’ you huffed out as your lips drifted apart. ‘Don’t hold back! Just fuck me!’ you then said, pulling him close again after he pulled his own t-shirt over his head while you removed yours.

‘I was just testing the waters Y/N’ he smirked before he pulled down your jeans eagerly while, at the same time, your hands went to his jeans and blessedly released his throbbing cock.

‘And I am not sure if I want you to see this side of me yet’ he then smirked, causing you to raise your eyebrows in return.

‘And what side is that Cillian?’ you giggled before whispering into his ear ‘show me your real kinky and filthy side.’

‘Soon, very soon’ Cillian then said before he kissed you again, hard and fast before both of you lost your jeans completely somewhere on the kitchen floor and Cillian lifted you up to sit on the kitchen table. He was much more forceful this time around and you quite enjoyed it.

Within one swift move, he unclasped your bra and thew it to the side before his hands rested on your breasts. You gasped as he shuffled down sufficiently to kiss each of them and close his mouth around a rigid pierced nipple. He pulled on it with his teeth and bit onto slightly, making you cry out.

At the same time, Cillian’s moved to in between your legs which were spread apart by his thighs as he was standing in front of you.

‘Fucking hell Y/N. What have you been thinking about, huh? You are fucking soaking’ he groaned as he observed that you were extremely wet already.

‘About you fucking me of course’ you giggled as Cillian brought his soaking wet fingers to your mouth.

‘Show me how fucking good you taste’ he instructed, making you taste yourself and you, of course, complied with his request and licked his fingers clean. But, when he watched you do this and felt your tongue piercing press against his fingers, he couldn't take it anymore.

‘Spread your legs wider’ he instructed as he pulled his hand away from your mouth and took hold of his rigid member, aiming it towards the dripping nirvana in front of him.

He knew he was rushing things, and as much as he wanted to take you, he couldn't if you weren’t ready. Your intense gaze held a mixture of the smirk and the desire.

‘Cillian, please shove your cock inside me already’ you then whined and, without a word, he plunged into you.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, you are so tight’ Cillian groaned while his eyes screwed shut as soon as your tight pussy had engulfed him, and he couldn't tell your groans apart from his own.

Good god, he felt amazing, so fucking amazing you couldn't move, completely paralysed with pleasure.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned eventually as he hovered over you, propped up against the table, his cock buried in your pussy and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You could vaguely hear voices from the TV in the other room over the sound of your shuttering breath, but it had no more meaning than anything else in the world that wasn't currently inside of you. And that was Cillian.

‘Who would have thought that we would ever fuck, eh’ Cillian observed as he thrusted in and out of you, slow at first and then with increased speed and force, Cillian began to slightly pinch your nipples. That broke your paralysis and you wiggled and moaned in pleasure, making him fuck you harder and deeper. Cillian’s mouth eventually found your neck and ear as he began to pivot in and out of you, relishing just how tight and wet you were.

‘Crazy I know…but also so damn good’ you moaned his name and he picked up his pace again. You swore under your breath and Cillian slid a hand in between your legs to rub your clit and play with your clitoral piercing the way he had watched you do it before.

‘Fuck, that’s it, Cillian’ you moaned and then, you came, whimpering and shuddering, as Cillian watched the ecstasy pass through the delicate features of your face. He continued stroking you gently as you rode out your climax and only stopped when you gripped his wrist with your hand.

‘Too sensitive’ you huffed out, causing Cillian to smirk and, only when you pressed your hands against Cillian’s chest, he reluctantly pulled out of you.

But he wasn’t done with you yet and, before you knew it, he pulled you off the table and spun you around.

Willingly, you leaned forward, your face pressing against the hard wood of the kitchen table while you spread your legs widely, allowing him better access to your wet mound.

It didn’t take him long to line himself up with your entrance and, as the lips of your wet pussy parted to receive the head of his cock, he could hear you moan over the drumming rain outside. You immediately pushed back against him, forcing him inside of you a little deeper.

‘That’s it, push back against my cock’ Cillian instructed as he loved seeing your figure arched with pleasure before him and his cock buried inside you. What on earth was he missing out on for twelve years, he wondered?

The first loud rumbles of the thunder outside drowned out the first fleshy slaps of his thighs against your ass as he started to pump himself in and out of the wet grip of your pussy. The feeling of pleasure on his cock was so exquisite that for a moment he could not contain the urge to pound you harder.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck me’ you moaned as he thrust deeper and faster into you, enjoying the feel of you hungrily pressing against him.

‘You like being taken like this don’t you? Pinned down and fucked hard?’ Cillian groaned as your moans had become loud enough now to be heard over the storm raging outside.

‘Yes, oh god yes, Cillian, please don’t stop’ you screamed out as you could feel another orgasm building as he pumped away.

By this point, Cillian’s cock was also screaming for release and you crying out beneath him didn’t help his urge to cum.

‘Harder’ you cried out and Cillian began to piston into you with rapid sharp strokes. You dug your nails into the table to brace against the pounding as Cillian drilled you as hard as he could.

Just as he continued to thrust in and out of you, he reached one of his hands between your legs to massage your clit again. The hard slap of his body against your tight ass was loud and he felt the sweat prickling on his body. The scent of your sex was filling the kitchen and, before long, your moans turned to gasps and little sharp cries of pleasure and Cillian felt your body shudder against his as you came.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes fuck, yes’ you shouted out as your second orgasm washed over you and you indulged in the pleasure he gave you by calling out his name.

‘Jesus Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned as his balls tingled with his own building climax. Cillian pulled you back into him by the hips and thrust as deeply into your pussy as he could as the first waves of his orgasm broke.

The eruption was intense. The spasms of pleasure were joined with the satisfying feeling of spurts of his semen flooding deep into your body. He kept pumping, though now slowly, even after the pulsing in his crotch subsided.

You sighed your contentment. The feel of your pussy milking the last drops from his now hyper-sensitive cock was delightful torture and Cillian groaned almost in agony.

You giggled and lifted your body up and, as you did so, Cillian’s cock slipped free of the embrace of your pussy.

‘So fucking sexy, leaking all my cum from your pussy’ Cillian then observed as he ran one of his fingers through your mound again, collecting some of his semen before guiding it up to your mouth.

‘Hmm, I like the way you taste. Took me only 12 years to find out’ you grinned as you suggestively licked his cum from his fingers.

‘I didn’t ever think that this would actually happen, seeing my cock inside you’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Tell me about it’ you said before giving Cillian a quick kiss. ‘By the way, nice dirty talk, I like it’ you then smirked, being rather surprised by your friend’s dirty vocabulary.

‘You’ve heard nothing yet’ Cillian said as he was getting dressed again.

‘Coffee?’ you then asked before walking over towards the coffee machine completely naked, wiggling your butt on full display.

‘Uhm sure, thanks’ Cillian laughed before putting his briefs back on and sitting down at the table while he watched you still somewhat in disbelieve.

***

After you got on with your chores and tasks for the day, you decided to finally call Laura to have this difficult conversation with her.

But, she didn’t pick up any of your calls and, instead, sent you a text message.

‘Can’t talk right now’ was all it said.

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fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years ago

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“There’s a catch” - Jacob Black x Reader

Request: “ If you are taking requests, could you write a Jacob\reader on where they "hate" eachother and the reader is very good friends with Paul (always around the pack) and Paul being like "Sure. You know you like him, right?" and teasing them in general.”

“My god, Jacob… you’re so annoying!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air.

“Yeah, you’re not so great yourself, princess.” He scoffs.

“Alright, easy there, killer.” Paul laughs, picking me up and moving me.

Jacob, as always was pissing me off. He just always had to butt in and say something to piss me off.

I was in the middle about complaining about my car breaking down earlier today, having to walk in the rain to Paul’s house.

I was rambling about how the engine overheated, causing me to have to pull over and try to figure it out, but to no avail. I was unable to get the car to start again.

“Maybe you should have had that coolant in your trunk like I told you.”

“Maybe you should have listened to me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so forgetful.”

“Maybe if you actually listened to me.”

“Maybe if you would actually take care of your car.’

Statements like all of the above immediately came out of Jacob’s big mouth. Him insulting me and my competence for when it came to taking care of my car.

“Jacob, it’s a crappy old car! I used the rest of the coolant the other day in it, there’s a leak somewhere! Embry said he’d help me fix it, but he had to patrol. So he can’t fix it until Saturday.” I huff, rolling my eyes at the jerk in front of me.

“Jake, maybe you could look at it.” Paul suggests, nudging his friend.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Jacob chuckles.

“Alright, Paul you’re stuck with driving me to work the rest of the week.”

“Please, at least teach me what to do. I can’t drive her to and from work, I can’t wake up that early.” Paul laughs.

“Eh.” Jacob smirks.

“My god, Jacob… you’re so annoying!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air.

“Yeah, you’re not so great yourself, princess.” He scoffs.

“Alright, easy there, killer.” Paul laughs, picking me up and moving me away.

I find myself plopped down on Paul’s couch as Paul walked outside with Jacob.

Jacob and I weren’t always so hostile towards one another. In fact, I used to have the biggest crush on him, but then he turned into a shifter and grew to be such a pissy guy.

Paul and I were always best friends, and he often brought Jake around. I thought he was a cute guy. He was nice, he was sunshine. However, that all shriveled up and died when he phased for the first time, and now we always bumped heads.

Now almost every time we hang out, he goes out of his way to piss me off. I just want to punch his pretty face in. I did, I really do. His laugh just made it difficult to get pissed off, sometimes.

But overall, I was ready to take Jake in a fight at any moment, he was always trying to get under my skin.

Just like the other day when he invited everyone out, except for me of course, to go to the beach to hang out. I was sitting right at the same table, watching as the smirk plastered itself across his smug face knowing I was pissed off. Paul insisted I came anyway, so I did. I hung out with Paul and Jared, making fun of Jacob the entire time. It felt good to get under that thick skin of his.

I heard them getting a bit louder out there, shrugging my shoulders.

“Good, I hope Paul sinks some teeth into him.” I scoff to myself, smirking at the thought as I sat on the couch.

Though at the same time, the thought of Paul doing anything to Jake also worried me. I’ve always felt a pull to Jake, even since he became such an asshole to me.

A moment later, Paul walks in the door with a smile on his face, Jacob trailing behind with his hand on his nose. It made me think about all the times Paul teased me about how he thought, or knew, that I had a crush on Jacob.

“Is it because you like him?”

“Oh so you know you like him, right?”

“I can’t you won’t just shoot your shot.”

“We settled it, so Jacob’s going to fix your car while I’m on patrol tonight. We’ll go pick yours up right now, sound good?” Paul asks, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Yeah, that works for me.” I smirk, standing up.

“Yeah, but you have to help him fix it.” Paul says, a devilish grin pulling at his lips.

I look over to see Jacob, his eyes rolling.

“Of course there’s a catch.” I bite my lip.

Paul only smirks, grabbing his keys off the counter and making his way outside to his truck, Jacob and I following behind him.

I took shotgun, directing Paul to where my car was left.

“Great, so you’ll be steering and Jake’s gonna push it. Good luck!” Paul yells through the open window as Jake and I exit the car, laughing his ass off.

“Great.” Jacob scoffs, kicking the dirt on the side of the road.

“Thanks.” I press my lips, bending my head down.

I get into the car, waiting for Jake to get ready to push. Once I get the all clear, we were on our way to Jacob’s garage. Due to his inhuman strength, we made it there quicker than I thought.

I get out of the car after it’s parked in his garage, quickly noticing Jacob’s shirt clinging to his abdomen. I immediately tear my eyes away from him and back to the car. My shoulders were shivering from the cold. The smell of oil and tools invading my senses.

“I’m gonna change quick, but I’ll be back.” He says, running his hands through his soaking wet hair.

I turn back to my car, popping the hood open to get a jumpstart to things. I turn the remainder of the lights on in the garage, knowing that we would need more light. I sat down on an empty crate, holding myself to keep warm.

Jacob soon returns, a different t-shirt and pair of jeans on, a hoodie in hand.

“Here, I can’t listen to all that teeth chattering all night.” He walks over, laying the maroon fabric on my lap.

“Oh, thanks.” I raise an eyebrow, immediately grabbing the hoodie into my shaking hands.

I stand up, throwing the hoodie over my body. I watched as it fell well-past my hips and the sleeves slinging inches lower than the end of my hands. Shrugging, I make my way over to the front end of my car, joining Jacob as he watches me.

I thought I almost saw a glimor in his eyes, but I knew that wasn’t true.

“I have a tube that’ll be the same size as yours over on that shelf over there. Top shelf, blue bin.” He points over to the left.

I nod, walking over to the shelf. I look up and see the bin he’s referring to, shocked that he thought I could reach it. I decide it was better to just try to reach it. I stand on my tippy toes, gripping onto the shelf with one hand, and reaching the other up as high as I can. I felt my body stretch, growing tired quickly as I tried to reach.

I heard chuckling come from behind me, I go to turn around to give him a stink face, but when I do I’m met with his chest in front of my face. He simply reaches a hand over me, easily grabbing the bin and bringing it down, a smirk on his face as he looks down at my own, a blush creeping its way to my cheeks.

“Forgot you were two feet tall.” His husky voice whispers with a smirk on his face.

I quickly exhaled, suddenly flustered with the close proximity of our bodies.

He turns around, walking over to my car, beginning to take things apart.

“So what can I do?” I ask.

“Nothing, you already failed task one. Can’t have you mess anything else up.”

“Oh shut up, that was an impossible task. Sorry I’m not almost seven feet tall.” I roll my eyes, sitting on the work bench next to where he was working.

“Alright fine, hand me the paper towels.” He laughs.

The air was less tense between us than it had been in months, since the day he phased.

I hand them over, he graciously takes them as he begins to clean the oil off the engine and wiping his hands off when he finishes that.

The garage was silent for a few moments as he did so, I had to try to tear my eyes from his arms as he was working on the car.

“Jacob?”

“What’s up?” He groans, pulling something out of the car and observing it.

“Why do you hate me? We were friends.” I look over, twiddling my thumbs.

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N). It’s a bit more complicated than that.” He huffs, looking over at me with sympathetic eyes.

“So why are you such an asshole to me?”

“I don’t know, I’m stupid, I guess. Or at least that’s what everyone else says.”

“I mean, agreed. But what is this all for then, Jake?” I ask, realizing that was the first time I actually called him Jake in a while.

“I just, I didn’t know how to handle this all. I phased, which we both know I was pissed about. And then suddenly, I had no say in my life anymore.” He puts the tool down, standing in front of me.

“I understand, Jake. I’m really sorry… I just don’t understand why you’ve been upset with me, though.” I look into his eyes, furrowing my brows.

“I just… it’s a lot. I was never ready to tell you about it, but I guess now’s a better time than any.”

“What?”

“Listen, I… I always had a crush on you, alright? And then I phased… and something else happened. And it just felt like everything I had a say in was taken from me. My body, my time, and then my feelings. I just, I wasn’t ready to accept it, yet. I’m sorry I’ve been being a dick to you, okay?” His deep brown eyes meet mine, searching to see what was going on in my mind.

“Jake… I thought you hated me. I had no idea that you… ya know. I always had a thing for you, too. It hurt a lot when you were so cold to me.” I frown.

“Well, it’s time I maybe start making up for it.” He smirks.

I smile as I realize what was going to happen. His warm, large hand found the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. It was quick, warm, and sweet. It was like electricity flowed throughout my entire body. Pulling away felt like an extreme absence of warmth on my lips.

I rested my forehead on his, closing my eyes. My hand lightly gripped the hair on the nape of his neck.

“And then, I’ll fix your car.” He lowly chuckles, removing his hand from the back of my neck, lowering it to my hand.

“Thanks.” I exhale, still in shock.

We made our way back over to fixing the car, not really talking about what just happened, though the tingling never left my lips and the atmosphere surrounding us was heavy.

He ended up finishing my car and handing the keys back to me.

“Here’s some more coolant, but I think you’ll be fine. I fixed the leak.” He smirks, walking over to put the coolant in my trunk.

“Uh, thanks.” I smile.

“Of course.” He looks at me, smiling awkwardly.

“Thanks again for fixing my car. And before I forget, here’s your hoodie.” I reach down to the bottom of the hoodie, attempting to peel it from my body but a warm hand stops mine.

“No, keep it. I think it looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks.

A ferocious blush invades my facial features, making him laugh a little.

I feel soft, warm lips press onto my forehead, a warm hand once again on the back of my neck.

“We can talk more about it all tomorrow. It’s been a long day.” He whispers.

“Sounds like a plan.” I nod, walking to my car door and getting inside.

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Let me know when you get home.” He smiles, watching me back out of his garage.

__________________________ Word Count: 2107

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black imagine #paul lahote #embry call #quil ateara #jared cameron #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #sam uley #twilight #twilight x reader

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago

Text

Packing - TsukiYama

Hello ! Midterms finally ended and I am just: suffering. But I wanted to put something out and this came into my brain the other day

Warnings: Tsukki swears bc it’s Tsukki

Summary: Tsukishima & Yamaguchi have a fight. Swear it isn’t too much angst and you won’t be like depressed by the end (this takes place in the future btw)

“Tsukki, I’m home!” Yamaguchi yelled as he walked through the front door, shutting it behind him and slipping off his jacket to hang it in the closet.

Tsukki bounded down the stairs of their shared home to meet his fiancée at the door. “Missed you.” He pulled Yams into a hug. “How was your day at work?”

“Eh,” He shrugged. “It was fine. It wasn’t the best Thursday I’ve ever had.” His eyes lit up. “Hey! Do you have any plans this weekend? Practices or work meetings or anything?”

Tsukki paused to think. “Believe it or not, I’m actually completely free. Why? Hinata wants to go on another double date?”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, pushing the taller man playfully. “Noooo. I just wanted to spend time with you. Without having to be stressed about anything.”

“Not even wedding planning?”

Yamaguchi motioned that he was zipping his lips. “I won’t even say a thing about wedding planning this weekend. Just some chill time for us. I think it’ll be nice.”

“Does sound nice.”

Yamaguchi tilted his head up slightly to kiss his fiancée on the lips, then bounded up the stairs, calling “I’m gonna get changed real quick!” as he did so. All Tsukki could do was shake his head and laugh at how cute he was.

Yamaguchi took off his dress clothes, absolutely wiped out and more than happy to get out of the itchy collar of his shirt. He went to throw the shirt into the hamper, only to see it still missing. “Tsukki!” He called. “Did you get the clothes washed today?”

“Huh?” His fiancée called back from downstairs. “Oh, shit I forgot. I’m sorry.”

He froze. Damn. He was running out of dress clothes to wear to work. He had things, just not anything he liked wearing, not anything comfortable. It was unfortunate.

Tsukki bounded up the steps, making Yamaguchi jump with his voice so nearby. “I don’t think you heard me. I forgot, I’m sorry Yams.”

Yamaguchi glanced towards the man now standing in the doorway and took a deep breath. This really wasn’t the end of the world, just today being so bad at work made things seem worse than they were. “It’s okay!” He cheered back. “If you put the laundry bag in my car I can do it after work tomorrow.”

“No! I can still do it. I just forgot today. I’m sorry.” Tsukki was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It clearly hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“But I can-“

Yamaguchi chuckled slightly. It was... slightly off. Was he getting irritated? Not even he could tell. “I mean, you were supposed to do it Tuesday, then forgot. Then Wednesday. Then today. Just let me do it? I’m running out of nice shirts to wear to work.”

“I’m sorry Yams. I genuinely forgot,” Tsukki frowned, making his way over to the other boy.

“No, it’s not your fault. I have to do laundry way more often than you. In fact, we can just split it up so I do my own and you do your own? That way you don’t have to go more often than you need to.”

He frowned even harder. “No-“

“It’s okay.” Yamaguchi forced a smile. “I understand wanting to be independent. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He left the room without another word, leaving Tsukishima speechless in their bedroom. What just happened? It felt like this was a step back.

Yamaguchi came back a minute later, laundry bag in hand, dumping it out and getting to work separating the couple’s clothes into different piles. He did so meticulously, making sure not even a sock would end out in the wrong pile. Tsukishima made no effort to stop him nor to help him. He still was confused as hell.

They ate dinner in absolute silence. What was either of them supposed to say? It seemed like the other actually wanted this. Were they really fighting over this? It sucked.

Yamaguchi didn’t let himself cry until he got into the shower, sitting on the floor and letting the water fall over his head. What had he done wrong? Was the wedding stuff too overwhelming? Now Tsukki didn’t even want to share laundry machines.

“Tadashi.” Yamaguchi snapped his head up to see his fiancée at the shower door, holding a towel in his hand. How long had he been sitting in the shower? How long had Tsukki been here?

“I...” what could he even say?

“You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

He bit his lip. Hard. Trying not to let it wobble or let out a sob or to even let any tears fall. He stood up and turned off the water, staring at his fiancée and nodding.

“Nice try.” Tsukishima wrapped the towel in his arms around his boyfriend’s figure. “What’s wrong?”

Yamaguchi started to dry off, not able to meet the other man’s eyes. “You don’t even want to share your laundry with me...” he mumbled.

“No, of course I do. You’re the one who separated them.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I was very confused in the moment. Are you really okay?”

Yamaguchi nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll be okay. Just work really sucked and it made thing even worse.” He got changed into his pajamas, shaking the excess water out of his hair, then climbed into bed.

Tsukishima climbed in next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Yamaguchi nodded. Tsukki didn’t make any effort to hold him or cuddle like they usually did before bed, but still, feeling his warm breath against his neck was enough to lull him to sleep.

Yamaguchi was at work before Tsukishima had even woken up, which was pretty surprising. Usually they at least got to see each other in the mornings. Yamaguchi always would make a lunch for Tsukishima and write him a cute little note. He wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t one today. He hadn’t realized not doing laundry was a big deal, but clearly it was a build-up of a few other things, and he felt really bad. He had wanted to apologize this morning, but that didn’t seem to happen.

Well, the least he could do was send a text to Yamaguchi.

I’m sorry for missing you this morning. And if I upset you last night. I love you and hope you have a good day

Aaaand now he was running late because he was stuck in his thoughts. He hurried to grab his laptop and his lunch, thank God Tadashi had made him one, and rushed out the door.

Half the day at work his eyes were trained on the lunch. Would there be a message? And why wasn’t Yamaguchi texting him? Hopefully it was just because he was busy.

When it was time for his break, Tsukishima practically leapt out of his seat to grab his lunch, opening it and shifting the food around to look for a note.

Got it!

Happy Friday! Hope you have a great day :)

Oh thank goodness. He let out a giant sigh of relief he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Were his eyes seriously watering? That was ridiculous. Tadashi wouldn’t stay mad at him for something like that; he really was the best.

Just got on lunch break. Hope you’re having a good lunch <3

That was kind of a cheesy message, but he was very relieved and very much so in love. As long as nobody ever saw it but Yamaguchi it would be okay.

Yamaguchi must’ve had a really busy day. He’d usually reply with something cute, but this time he just loved the message. Well, at least he knew he had seen it.

Something felt weird though. This never happened. He never left for work early. He always replied during his lunch break, and if his break came earlier than Tsukki’s he would text him first.

Well... it was probably nothing.

Yamaguchi’s car was in the garage when Tsukishima got home. Yams usually got home later than him... hopefully that meant today went better at work for him.

“Yamaguchi! I’m home!” He called, making his way through the door.

Silence.

He went to the kitchen, but his fiancée wasn’t there. Outside? Nope. Up in the bedroom?

What?

“T-Tadashi?�� He uttered out. There was Yamaguchi, bulky headphones over his ears, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Yamaguchi’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh!” His face was bright red. “Tsukki, I didn’t know you’d be home yet...” he slipped the headphones off his ears to focus on the distraught man standing over him.

“W-wait. What are you doing?” He knew something was off. He was an idiot for thinking things would be okay.

“Packing?” The man on the floor shrugged. Well yeah, that was obvious enough.

“I... don’t.”

“Hand me that shirt behind you,” Yamaguchi prompted him. Tsukishima looked behind him, eyes trained on one of Yamaguchi’s comfy t-shirts.

“I don’t want to.” He pouted.

Yamaguchi chuckled. “God, you’re such a pain.” He stood up and walked past his fiancée to grab the shirt. Tsukishima grabbed him in his arms as he past, trapping him.

“Tsukki,” he whined, shuffling to get out of his grip.

“No, no, no.” He held him tighter. “I’m not letting you go.” His words caught in his throat. This was stupid. How did Tadashi not realize it was just something stupid!? Had things been building up for a while now and he was too stupid to realize it? His grip tightened even more.

“I can’t breathe. I give in! I won’t move.”

Tsukki, sighed, feeling Yamaguchi relax in his arms, and loosened up a little.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing the laundry.”

“It’s okay! We can just do them separate from now on-“

“No!” He shrieked. “I don’t wanna. I wanna do my laundry with yours.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t.” Yamaguchi seemed genuinely confused.

“No, no. You made that stupid suggestion. I wanna go to the drycleaner’s every week just to get your comfy shirts washed for work. Just... let me.”

“Well, in my defense, I’ve been trying to let you but you keep forgetting.”

“I’m sorry.” His grip was tightening and he could tell. He couldn’t help it. He was afraid if he let him go now he’d never be able to hold him again. “I’ll do it right this time.” His voice was shaky. He was scared.

“Why are you so upset over laundry?” Yamaguchi laughed—a genuine laugh—his chest shaking and giving Tsukishima butterflies, which he definitely didn’t deserve at the moment.

“You’re- you’re fucking packing Tadashi.” He let the boy go, folding his arms in front of him.

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to find out this way.”

Why was he smiling!? What kind of a sick joke was this? He felt seriously ill. Was today backwards day? April Fools? Did he forget something?

Yamaguchi’s smile faded. “You okay? You look sick?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Tsukishima whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes. “Why are you smiling? And laughing? Do you even like me? Was it just some stupid joke to get with me?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” Tsukki grabbed the shirt behind him and threw it towards the suitcase. He walked off towards the bathroom. He was gonna throw up. He should be begging for him to stay, but his stupid attitude came up and now Tadashi’s probably even more upset.

“Tsukki!” He felt the back of his shirt being pulled back. He turned to face him. “I feel like I’m missing something, Tsukki. Are you mad that I couldn’t text you today? We had management come in...”

“Huh? Why would I be mad.”

“You seem very mad...” he replied, eyes trailed on the ground.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Huh? No. I’m just confused.”

Tsukishima was speechless. What was he missing here? “Why are you packing a bag?”

“Weekend together? I was able to get a flight to a beach and... I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be fun. Do you have work or something? Did I mess it up?” Yamaguchi was fiddling his thumbs as he spoke, clearly nervous by his fiancée’s attitude.

“You idiot.”

“Hey!” He pouted. “It was going to be a surprise but you got home early.”

“I thought you were mad at me about laundry and you were leaving.”

“Leaving leaving? Why would I have written you a note for your lunch then?”

Tsukki frowned. “Well... I don’t know. I was confused.”

“I’m sorry.” Yamaguchi wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s neck, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. “Do you still wanna go? We don’t have to.”

“You scared me to death. Yes I wanna go.” He wrapped his arms around Yamaguchi’s waist, keeping him close. “Jesus, Tadashi. ‘Really scared me there.”

“I didn’t mean tooooo! I was confused too.”

Tsukishima picked him up, placing kisses all across his face, causing the shorter boy to giggle.

“Tsukki! We have to pack for the flight!” He squealed between giggles.

“When’s it leave?”

“Th-three hours!”

“Ugh, fine.” He dropped his boyfriend unceremoniously. “But to be continued when we get to the hotel, ‘Kay?”

“You better actually help me pack this time.”

He rolled his eyes at his fiancée. “Duh. Shut up you idiot. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tsukki.”

#haikyuu #tsukiyama #tsukkiyama #tsukishima kei #Yamaguchi Tadashi #fluff #I love this ship Sm

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writesowhatnext · 5 years ago

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and I’ve been thinking about it lately // george weasley

Summary: friends // it was easy to be friends with george weasley

Request: nee

A/N: once again!!! I used Y/L/N which is last name :) this is part 2 of the fic I just posted!!!! obviously?? anyways I loved this

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

“Looks like we’re partners,” George said, sliding into the seat next to yours and grinning. He felt a little nervous given your turbulent history, but it seemed that you were about to surprise him, as you always managed to.

“Just my luck,” you retorted, your voice lacking its usual amount of bite despite your scowl.

He smirked at your tone, surprised at much he enjoyed your new-found acquaintanceship.

“Can’t believe you got paired up with that loser, Weasley,” Malfoy said to you from behind, leaning over his desk so his annoyingly pompous voice carried. “Which one are you again?”

Before George could open his mouth and put the little git in his place, he was beaten to the punch.

“And why are you talking to me, Malfoy?” you said slowly, not even looking at him as you opened your textbook. You smiled slightly at his angry muttering and the scrape of his chair on the floor.

When you looked at George, only to see him making smug faces at Malfoy before turning to you and smirking, you rolled your eyes, still finding his ability to rile your feathers disturbingly uncanny.

“You can do the uses-“

“Why?” he said loudly, returning your scowl as you glared at him.

“Because I told you to.”

“And so, what? I should just do it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, in that case, your highness.”

You shot him a dark look and he opened his mouth to continue your bickering when a dark figure loomed behind you.

“Mr Weasley, Ms Y/L/N.” Snape’s voice cut through the silence of the room. “Do you find squabbling like children in my class to be a good use of your time?”

Following Snape’s little scolding, you tried desperately to avoid his wrath for the rest of the lesson. This was a goal that proved harder than initially anticipated given the nature of the boy sitting next to you. Halfway through the lesson, you found yourself biting your nails, trying to figure out the purpose of adding Eye of Newt when George caught your eye. He winked and you glowered in return, but he could see the upward curve of your lips and considered himself once again pleasantly surprised.

He could barely contain his laughter, though, when around ten minutes later you stuck your tongue out at him when you caught him looking around the room for a distraction. It was strange, you though, to be so light-hearted with him; not bad though, not at all.

He snickered until he felt Snape’s eyes on him and immediately ducked his head, not eager to receive another detention after the last Thursday night he spent polishing trophies. The idea of George getting in trouble made you smirk, though, and you looked over to tease him only to see Snape’s sour expression.

Your eyes widened as you quickly looked down again and pursed your lips tightly. You both watched him walk in front of your desk slowly, gliding past you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders. George snorted and you kicked him under the table, finding it almost impossible to contain your own laughter with Snape watching you so closely.

The man himself, like a dark shadow, loomed over your bench and reluctantly, you both looked up. Snape’s eyes flickered from yours to George’s slowly, suspiciously. As you both waited silently for the inevitable punishment, you couldn’t help your amusement brewing and you cursed George and his stupidity for always somehow making you laugh.

“Class…” Snape drawled, his dark gaze never leaving your faces. “Dismissed.”

You concealed your laughter until you got outside the room where you immediately burst into giggles. You shoved George lamely with your hand, shaking your head.

“You are the worst!” you insisted, huffing as he grinned. You scoffed, biting your lip.

Both you and George stared at each other for a moment, your combined breathing the only sound in the hallway as your laughter died down. The air turned thick rather quickly and wading through the awkward silence, you remembered that you really ought to get to your next class. You made to leave, not wanting to extend the odd tension for any longer when George stopped you, his hand on your arm. You stiffened under his touch and he lifted his palm quicker than you’d thought possible. Your insides churned.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?” he said, his eyebrows raised, an oddly guarded look in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“…Yes.”

“Oh, brilliant,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulder and ushering you in the right direction. “We can walk there together.”

You grunted and pushed him off indelicately, shooting him a deadpan look when he grinned. You urged yourself to be normal - whatever that was.

“Joyous,” you said so dryly he barked a loud laugh, a laugh that made you forget how weird you’d felt only minutes before. You were glad to return to more familiar territory.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like me,” he said glibly, hoping that you couldn’t tell how unsure he was about the idea. Why did he even care if you liked him? He barely even liked you a week ago. You rolled your eyes again and he swallowed against the tightness of his throat.

“I assure you, there’s no pretence involved whatsoever.”

Either he didn’t have a witty response or just chose to ignore you, but he only hummed as you both wandered to the third floor.

Professor Lupin, you discovered quickly, was thankfully nothing like Professors Quirrell or Lockhart; that was in the sense that he actually seemed somewhat competent at his job. You were quite enjoying the lesson until he introduced the boggart, something that you definitely did not want to face, especially not in a room full of people that you didn’t know, didn’t like and George, who you were unsure about where he sat in that particular Venn diagram. With a poorly concealed rush, you joined the back of the queue that curled around the room as Fred and George, ever the showmen joined the front.

You expected George’s worst fear to be something stupid; something like clowns or people not laughing at his dumb jokes. What you did not expect was to see the boggart turn into George himself; how you could tell the difference between him and Fred was not something you dared to question. The boggart was holding a white rose and stood there in a suit, the type you’d never believe that George would ever wear, and as he faced it, he gulped. You frowned, something about the whole thing piquing your interest. Maybe George Weasley wasn’t everything you thought he was.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, watching with wide eyes as the boggart’s white rose crumbled into dozens of pieces, each hitting the ground with a sharp thud. Its face morphed into Filch’s and suddenly the whole classroom was alive with laughter at the sight of Filch attempting to find footing on a floor of marbles. Finding you across the class, pleased to see a faint smirk on your lips, George winked. You scoffed, shaking your head. Maybe George Weasley was exactly what you thought he was.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” he said cockily as he walked over. The rest of the class shrieked in laughter as another fear turned into something hilarious, but you weren’t paying attention.

“You’re an imbecile.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Most definitely.”

“I dare you to do something better,” he said, his competitive streak showing. He watched, though, with intrigue, as your face turned pale and your expression uncomfortable.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” you snapped, perhaps too harshly. He glowered, dozens of cruel retorts collecting on his tongue before he stopped, noticing the way your fingers pulled nervously at your sleeve and your eyes darted around the room.

For the first time since knowing you, George realised that you were actually scared of something and despite how much he loved to irritate you, your fearful expression didn’t sit well with him at all.

“Did you hear that Neville turned his into Snape wearing his grandma’s clothes?” he said, his stare far too obvious for his tone to be so casual. He tried, though, and you almost appreciated his attempt to be subtle as he avoided mentioning your conversational hand grenade. He watched confusion, and then recognition, flash over your features.

“I can’t believe Longbottom’s boggart was Snape,” you scoffed, crossing your arms tightly. George frowned, opening his mouth to defend him. Whilst he and Neville weren’t the best of friends, George wasn’t a fan of people teasing him, especially Slytherins. From all he knew about you, he could only expect mockery to tumble lazily from your lips.

“Neville’s-“

“How psychotic do you have to be for a kid to fear you like that?”

George’s mouth dried up a little and for the first time in a long time, he was rendered speechless. His eyes trailed over your scowling face.

“I’ll say,” he said softly, watching you closely to gauge your reaction. “I figured you’d like Snape; being a Slytherin and all.”

You made a face. “He’s a bully. Fantastic wizard, mind, but an awful person.”

George mused on your words for a moment. He didn’t really know what to say, but he was saved by the point of Fred’s wand and the sight of a younger, screaming Ron Weasley legging it away from a gigantic spider. You exhaled out of your nose as Fred came over, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“That was brilliant, mate,” George said to his brother, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“What did you think Y/N?” Fred asked, flicking his hair over his shoulder. “Am I a comedic genius or what?”

“I think I’ll have to go with ‘or what’ on that one,” you hummed, smiling at their stupidly dramatic reactions.

Much to your surprise, it wasn’t just the twins that you’d come to tolerate. As you walked over to the Gryffindor table, your fingers drumming against your leg, you thought about how, against all odds, you’d developed a very unexpected friendship with Hermione Granger. Hours of polite co-existing at the library managed to do that to a person.

“Oi, Granger,” you said, stopping behind Ron, ignoring the way his face soured when he saw you. “Do you have that book I leant you on muggle war history?”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, throwing her hand to her chest before she rifled through her bag and handed over a thick hardback. “Yes, here, thank you.”

You nodded at her before turning to walk away, catching Harry’s eye in the process. You circled back, an amused smirk working its way onto your lips.

“Saw you flying that hippogriff earlier, Potter. Must say, I’m quite impressed. Especially after what it did to Malfoy’s arm.”

“Uh,” he said, not quite sure where to look. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Ooh,” George said, sitting down next to Harry as Fred sat opposite him.

“Has someone got a crush?” Fred asked, goading you with his teasing tone.

“Someone’s about to get crushed,” you replied happily, your overly cheerful voice sending the twins into hysterics.

You pursed your lips, but the amused smile on your face didn’t escape Hermione’s keen eye.

“Excited for quidditch tomorrow then, Y/N?” George said with a cocky grin. “We’re gonna absolutely decimate the Hufflepuffs.”

“Like that’s hard,” Fred added, nodding his head.

“As much as I would love to see you two do absolutely nothing for a few hours,” you smirked as their expressions wilted. “I have no interest in torturing myself watching a game I can’t play.”

“Why can’t you play?” Harry asked, a confused frown knitting his brows together.

“Flint banned me for three matches; says it’ll ‘help remind me where my loyalties should lie’. Smug bastard.”

You rolled your eyes, remembering the dumb look on his face and the haughtiness of his tone.

“What? He’s not letting you play because of that enchanted bludger last year? But you were only helping Harry!” Hermione said, her voice indignant.

“I think that’s the issue, Hermione,” Harry said almost guiltily.

“Well, that’s hardly fair, is it?” Ron said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. He winced as he prepared himself for your reaction, quite surprised really when you only shrugged and kissed your teeth.

“Not to worry, he’ll put me back in after the Ravenclaw match,” you insisted, the clock on the wall catching your eye. “I’m irreplaceable.”

You winked at Ron as you walked backwards, finding it best not to be late for Snape’s study session given your recent antics with George. Your laughter followed you out the hall as you left Ron blushing bright pink in your wake.

There was a large possibility that you might have lied. Or perhaps you just hadn’t made up your mind yet. It really didn’t matter though because Potter sure was lucky that you’d dragged yourself to see the match in the end. You obviously hadn’t anticipated him falling so hard so fast, but given that you’d been lurking by the players’ entrance to the pitch to get the best view of the game, you were by far the first to reach him when he hit the ground with a resounding thud.

You perched on the bed opposite him, sitting on the railing and hoping that Madam Pomfrey was too occupied with the injured Hufflepuffs to scold you.

“He looks a bit peaky,” Ron said, leaning over Harry who, admittedly, did look rather pale. “Doesn’t he?”

You cursed yourself for being so worried about Harry Potter, of all people, but despite your best intentions, you had a soft spot for the kid and you reasoned that anybody falling out of the sky would’ve earnt exactly the same response.

“Peaky?” George scoffed, looking at his little brother.

“I’d expect,” Fred snorted.

“He fell over a hundred feet.”

“Yeah, Ron. Let’s walk you off the Astronomy Tower.”

“See what you look like.”

You rolled your eyes. They really were idiots.

“Probably a darn sight better than he usually does,” Harry said, his voice croaky. You snorted, leaning forward to get a better look at Hogwarts’ resident skydiver. George glanced at you, grinning at the noise you’d made as he moved to sit by Harry.

“You gave us a right good scare there, mate,” he said, shaking his head. Despite your oath to never do so, you had to agree with him. Harry’s eyes flicked from George to the twigs that were left of his broomstick nestled in Ron’s arms, and then finally to you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning.

You chuckled as you stood up and made towards the bed, walking past Longbottom, who edged away away from you nervously.

“Just checking you’re still alive, Potter,” you said lazily, catching George’s eye as you turned to leave.

“She helped bring you in,” he said, looking at you for a moment before bringing his attention back to Harry.

“Seems like she’s your guardian angel on that quidditch pitch,” Fred joked, his laughter echoing down the corridor as you took a leisurely stroll back to the dungeon.

You didn’t see Fred or George for a while after that which was worrying, to say the least; if not only because that meant that they were planning something. You managed to muster a smile for Harry in the hallway one time, figuring he needed it with all the rumours going around about Sirius Black being his godfather. It probably came out like more of a grimace, you mused.

It felt normal, though, to return to your life before your truce with George Weasley; back to your normal friends and normal problems that didn’t involve teenagers falling from the sky. Disappointingly, with your friends busy revising for the upcoming Transfiguration test, a test you knew that you’d ace, you almost convinced yourself to ditch Hogsmeade for the day. However, something about the fresh snow on the ground or the idea of Christmas just around the corner swayed you and you found yourself huddled in your coat, rushing through the halls of Hogwarts.

The last people you expected (or wanted) to see were Fred and George, walking through the quad with matching woolly hats and coats. You debated it for a moment. You could just ignore them, but no doubt they’d notice you shadowing them at some point. And you were friends now, right?

The thought struck you with less distaste than you imagined it would and it seemed, at that point, that your mind was made up.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be at Hogsmeade?” you shouted, quirking an eyebrow at them as they turned around, waiting for you to catch up.

“Couldn’t we ask you the same thing?” George said, grinning cheekily.

“I was just leaving, actually.”

“Oh, splendid,” Fred said, his tone mocking. “We absolutely have to go together, then.”

“If we must,” you said, the perfect picture of resignation.

“You know you love us, Y/N,” George said, elbowing you in the ribs.

“I’ll pretend that’s true for your own sake.”

“You see that, George?” Fred asked, pointing at his brother as you walked between them. “And they say Slytherin’s aren’t kind.”

You couldn’t help the smile that lifted your cheeks.

It was unfortunate, really, because you couldn’t shake that smile for the rest of the day. Against your better judgement, you joined the twins in the Three Broomsticks, laughing and joking over pints of butterbeer. If anybody asked, the whole experience was deplorable, but in reality, you were actually enjoying yourself. So much so that you didn’t even notice the stares you were getting from across the pub.

“Can you believe that?” Seamus asked, jerking a thumb at you. “Did you ever think the bloody Weasley twins would be friends with a Slytherin?”

Dean shook his head, snickering into his glass. “No chance, mate.”

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#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #writing #imagine

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ravenclaw-ftw · 4 years ago

Text

February Formal

Prompt: None

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader

Word Count: 2,876

Warnings: Bad writing

Synopsis: You were both left without a date to the February Formal. With you being the quiet Ravenclaw who has been focusing on her studies, and him being the stuck up one that no one wanted to spend the night with, what will they do?

ONESHOT:

You were sitting in the library late Saturday, getting ahead on some studying for your O.W.L.S. coming up. The library was quieter than usual. Yes, it was a weekend, but there were usually some people, like yourself, still working hard to prepare for the weeks ahead. Looking up from your textbook, you observed the very few others around you, and noticed the subtly red and pink flowers around the library. Usually the library is adorned with flags of the different houses and some lanterns to light the area. Turning around you see some pink sashes covering the vaulted ceiling of the library. The girls around you are wearing more makeup and perfume than usual, you could smell it. Acting a little more flirtatious with their study group.

You had completely forgot.

Tomorrow was Valentine’s day, or better known around Hogwarts as the February Formal. Everybody who is anybody attends that ball. You knew it was coming up, but you had been so occupied with your studies that it had slipped your mind.

You hadn’t been asked to go with anyone either, so that had a helping hand in you forgetting about the formal.

You gather your things and begin the long walk to your dorm. You noticed the decorations around the corridors as well, just reminding you of what awaits tomorrow.

The last few years you have gone with groups of friends. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to do that, lots of people did. You’ve been wanting to get asked, to go with anyone really. But you did have your eyes on one Slytherin since Year 2.

The blonde headed Draco Malfoy.

Your friends have teased you before about your little crush on him, but it’s not like you could help it. Under all his attitude you knew there was some good to him. Behind that ice-cold stare, there was a soft center. You think back to that first day you really interacted with him in Year 2.

Rushing down the halls to your charms class so you weren’t late, you had tripped, and dropped your books and they scattered across the corridor. Draco, also on the verge of being late to charms, saw what had happened. He didn’t hesitate to help you though. He leaned down, picking up papers and charm books with you. He looked up and said, “Charms class eh? That’s where I’m heading,” handing you your books.

You both stood and began walking to your class. “Thank you, Draco, you didn’t have to help, now we’re both going to be late,” you thanked him. “That’s alright, I wasn’t going to make it anyways. But how do you know me? Have we met before?” he asked quizzically. “Well, no, but doesn’t everyone know you? You’re probably the most infamous Slytherin, other than your father,” you explained. “I guess you’re right, I never got your name,” he said as you stood outside of the Charms classroom, most likely late, as the door was already shut. “Y/N, my name is Y/N,” you answered. “Y/N, pretty name for a pretty Ravenclaw. Just about the most normal Ravenclaw I’ve met,” he said. You blushed and looked down, “Thanks for the, compliment?” you questioned. “It is, Ravenclaws are odd sometimes,” he chuckled.

It was a simple interaction, he even gave you a compliment, as much as a compliment Draco could give. You remember it fondly as you walked into your common room, seeing your friends lounging in the few chairs scattered around the common room.

“Y/N! You’re back, now you can help me pick out a gown for tomorrow!” Luna had yelled. “You’re telling me you haven’t had this picked out for months?” you laughed back. “Well, you know how indecisive I can be,” she said as she got up. The both of you walked down to your dorm, and to Luna’s wardrobe. She pulled out the options of gowns and laid them out on her bed.

“Which do you think I should go with, the Persian blue? Or the Egyptian blue? Oh! Or this sapphire blue!” she asked you as she felt the material of each dress. “You’re telling me those are supposed to be different colors?” you laughed at her. “Well, yes of course. Ugh, I don’t know which to wear, what color dress are you wearing?” she asked. “Honestly, I forgot the formal was tomorrow, I don’t have a dress to wear,” you explained as you walked over toward the window seat. “Y/N, how could you have forgotten? It’s all the whole school has been talking about the past week. Would you like to borrow one of my gowns?” she looked away from the dresses and toward you.

“Luna, I don’t even know if I want to go this year. I love going with you guys but..” you looked out the window, wishing to see a messenger owl with a note from Draco, asking you to the ball. “Oh, I have a date. I wouldn’t be able to go with you,” Luna said simply. You spun around, “What?! And you didn’t tell me? Who is it!” you jumped out of your seat and onto her bed, chin in your hands looking up at Luna.

“Harry Potter, I thought I told you this,” she said. “Oh girl, I would’ve remembered if you did, that’s so exciting! Do you know what he is wearing? You guys should match!” you rambled excitedly. Luna giggled, “I think just simple black dress robes, hopefully the Weasley’s don’t make him wear some of their homemade dress robes.”

“Well I definitely think you should go with the sapphire blue, it compliments your hair very well,” you explained. She nodded and tried on the dress, the sleeves drooped around her shoulders and framed her collarbones. The velvet material cascaded down her body in a mermaid shape.

“That’s the one,” you confirmed. “Okay, now your turn,” she turned toward you. “Luna, I said I don’t know if I want to go,” you explained. “What? Just because no one asked you doesn’t mean you don’t have to go! And you can’t wait around forever for Draco to get the courage to ask you,” she teased, “What you should do, is go to the ball, looking so beautiful, that he won’t be able to resist you.”

“Does he even have a date for the formal? I’m not trying to be a homewrecker,” you asked. “Y/N, no offense, but girls are really intimidated by him, I don’t think he has a date. But for some reason you’re brave enough to be friendly with him,” she explained.

“You know what, you’re right. I will go, who needs a date anyways?” you said, “do you have any other dresses that would fit me?”

“Oh yes! Of course!” she started rifling through her wardrobe. You saw a peak of a light blue sleeve tucked in the back. “Wait, Luna, what’s that one in the back there?” you asked. She pulled out the dress. A cascade of light cornflower blue tulle rolled onto the floor. “Wow, where did you get that one?” you asked Luna. “My aunt made it for me for a wedding we had to attend, try it on!” she exclaimed. You discarded your Ravenclaw robes in exchange for the gown. As soon as it was laced up in the back you turned toward the mirror. You touched the material as if it was gold.

“Wow, Y/N, now you HAVE to go to the ball, Draco will be drooling all over you!” she said.

“It’ll be an interesting night now,” you hoped.

___________________________________________________________

The next day, the day of the formal, everyone was excitedly getting ready. You and Luna helped each other with hair and makeup. She went with a simple natural makeup look, while you went for simple with a bold lip. Her silvery hair was in a braided bun, while yours was in a half up, half down look with the ends curled.

Harry came to the Ravenclaw common room to pick up Luna like a gentleman. You were excited for her as they looked good together. “Y/N, would you like to join us and walk down to the ball together?” Harry has sweetly offered. “Thank you, Harry, but you two go on and enjoy yourselves, I want to go on my own,” you explained. “Have fun, don’t wait on him to come up to you, be brave,” Luna encouraged you as they left. You nodded as you sat down on a chair, watching them leave.

You tried to hype yourself up to go down to the ballroom with everyone else. All you wanted tonight was the chance to approach Draco. Possibly to get the chance to talk with him, spend some of the night with him. Maybe even get a dance with your long-time crush.

With that, you stood up, leaving the common room. Luna was right, you are brave enough to go alone. As you walked through the corridors to the ballroom, you saw your favorite Slytherin outside of the ballroom. He was seemingly alone, leaning against the stone wall of the castle.

You stopped in your tracks, not expecting to see him so soon. You were taken aback by how good he looked. He wore all white dress robes, coincidentally matching very well with your gown. His blonde hair slicked back, and his eyes looking down. You gathered yourself and approached him, without a plan really.

As your heels clacked against the cold stone floor, he heard, and looked up at you, eyes wide.

“Hello, Draco,” you smiled.

“Y/N, wow, you look stunning,” he complimented, a full compliment this time.

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself,” you said back.

It looked like he blushed, you made Draco blush. That gave the little bit of confidence you needed for tonight.

“Why aren’t you in there with everyone? Why are you out here?” you asked him timidly.

“Well, I didn’t want to show up without a date. Crabbe and Goyle both asked some Hufflepuffs to go with them to the ball,” he looked away, almost sad.

“Did you not ask anyone to go with you? I doubt anyone would turn you down if you asked,” you questioned. You wanted to know the reason why he was alone. Did he get rejected? Was he too nervous to ask someone?

“I- I don’t know. I had someone in mind I wanted to ask, but they probably wouldn’t want to go with an arse like me,” he explained.

“I highly doubt that,” you looked down kicking your feet, slightly disappointed. That someone probably wasn’t you, because you would’ve agreed to have gone with him in a heartbeat.

“Would you want to walk in there with me? You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to,” Draco asked, finally looking at you. He noticed how beautifully done your hair was, and the way your dress hung around your body, you looked like an angel. He had wanted to ask you earlier, but he didn’t think you would want to go with him. He’s asking now because, you didn’t show up with a date, and no one had come up to you yet.

“I would love to,” you smiled. He returned your smile and held out his hand, like a gentleman. You took it as you both finally walked into the ball.

The room was decorated beautifully, white and pink sashes hung above your heads and there were flowers adorning the tables. Loud muggle music bounced off the walls, it was hard to hear Draco ask you, “Do you want to sit? I can grab us some pumpkin juice,” he offered.

“I’ll grab a table,” you answered. He split off from you to grab the drinks. You looked around and saw Luna enjoying her time with Harry, she spotted you, said something to Harry, and ran up.

“Draco asked you?!” she yelled over the music. You laughed, “Kind of, we were both without dates, he’s grabbing us drinks right now, we’ll see what happens,” you answered. “Well, with you in that dress, you got the power to make him do whatever you want,” she winked as she walked back over to Harry.

Draco came back with the drinks and sat down. You smiled at him as he handed you the cup. Slowly sipping you looked around the ballroom, this is closer than you thought you’d be with him tonight. You were ecstatic. You could fall over on your arse and it wouldn’t even care you were so happy.

“Did anyone ask you to the ball tonight?” Draco asked hesitantly. “No, actually, the past 6 years of being at this place no one has asked me. I’ve always came here with friends. I only didn’t do that tonight because everyone else got a date,” you answered and looked down. “Are you kidding?” he looked baffled. “What?” you asked, nervous that he would make fun of you or something.

“I just-“ he was cut off by the DJ saying there would be a slow song playing next.

“Would you like a dance with me?” he stood and held out his hand. You nodded and took his hand, still curious about what he was going to say, but you followed him to the dance floor anyways.

He placed your hand on his shoulder and took your waist. You looked up at him and blushed. This has made your night, it could not get better than this.

After swaying to the music for some time, your head on his shoulder, you looked up and asked, “Why were you so surprised earlier when I said I’ve never been asked to a ball before?”

He looked down to you, noticing the height difference and smiling, “Well, I’m just surprised no one would ask someone as beautiful as you to the ball.”

With your newfound bravery, you asked, “Well, in that case, why haven’t you ever asked me?”

“I thought guys would be begging to go with you, that��s why I never bothered asking. Why would you say yes to me anyways?” he questioned.

“Well that’s a silly question now isn’t it? I’m here with you,” as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, still swaying to the music. “Admittedly I’ve been waiting years for you to ask me,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“If I had known that I would’ve asked you the second I laid eyes on you during first year,” he lifted your chin up to look at him, “But I was such a child then, I didn’t have the guts to ever say anything,” he said.

You giggled, “Technically you still didn’t we ended up here together because we both didn’t have the guts to say anything,” you teased.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now, it was like a dream come true.

“And what do you mean first year? We never even spoke back then?” you asked quizzically.

“Who wouldn’t notice a beauty like you from across the great hall? In the library? Bloody hell, I almost failed our Charms class together because I couldn’t stop looking at you,” he said matter of factly.

The slow music has long since stopped but both of you have been swaying in the middle of the dance floor while people danced wildly around you. But it felt like it was just you two in the whole ballroom. You smiled up at him, admiring his sparkling eyes in the dim light. He leaned down to press his lips to yours, in a tender, careful kiss, almost as to not scare you away. Pressing back, you leaned into his touch, wanting nothing more than this for the past few years.

The kiss was interrupted by a squeal near you, your broke the kiss to turn and see what or who, that was. You saw Luna and Harry dancing near you two, and Luna got overly excited seeing what just went down. Draco looked over and only saw Harry above the crowd.

“Potter… you won’t ruin this for me too,” he glared at him. “Draco don’t blame this on me, just go take your girl and enjoy the night, don’t ruin it for everyone,” he stated.

“He’s right, let’s go somewhere more private,” you tugged on his robes, drawing his attention away from his made up drama.

Draco grabbed your hand and pulled you out away from your friends and led you out of the ballroom. “What’s your favorite dessert?” he asked as he slowed down, turning toward you. “What?” you giggle. “I have the house elves wrapped around my finger, now what’s your favorite dessert so I can get it for you,” he answers simply. You ponder for a moment, before answering, “Bundt cake.”

“Very odd choice, but alright,” he answered.

The two of you enjoyed a small bundt cake in the courtyard that night, his jacket around your shoulders as it was a cool February night.

“Thank you for tonight Draco, it’s been a perfect night,” you looked up at him after finishing the cake.

He looked over to you, and smiled, “Thank you for being the perfect date,” as he leaned down to kiss you. A perfect ending to a perfect night, it all worked out as “planned”.

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dreary-rain · 4 years ago

Text

The Storm Protects (Ch.1)

Continuation of this post

Venti/Aether

Warnings: angst, violence, injuries (full tags on AO3)

Find the full story here

The sky was cloudless as Aether strolled through Mondstadt, Paimon floating at his side. He stopped by the Adventurer’s Guild and chatted with Katheryne about upcoming commissions. After waving hello to Donna, Aether slipped inside Angel’s Share. It was a bit too early for the regular crowd, but there were a few people scattered around.

“Diluc!” Aether greeted with a smile. The redhead glanced up from where he was cleaning a glass.

“Aether, good to see you. How are you?” Diluc asked and set the glass down.

“No greeting for Paimon?” Paimon asked and crossed her arms. Aether shook his head with a smile and sat down at the bar.

“I didn’t forget about you,” Diluc said with a smile. “How are you, Paimon?”

“Paimon is doing great! But it would be better if you had something to eat.”

“Of course,” Diluc said and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate of food. Paimon’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to eating.

“Thank you,” Aether glanced back at Diluc. “I’m feeling better. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I can imagine. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you. Well, I did have a question and a request, but that can wait.”

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll listen.”

“Well, in that case…” Aether cleared his throat and looked down. “Do you know what happened to… to the… to the Fatui who…”

“Ah, them.” Diluc saved Aether from having to spell it out. Aether had faced a dragon, fought a Harbinger, and fallen from the Jade Chamber, but nothing had brought him closer to death than his slip-up with the Fatui agents. Even now, he had trouble believing he had almost been killed by mere Fatui. But there had been plenty of strange occurrences that day. Battle after battle in a relatively peaceful area in Liyue was rather unusual. It was almost like his day had been planned by someone else so that Aether would be too exhausted to fend off the Fatui.

But why? Aether didn’t want to consider the possibility that not only the attack itself, but the entire day was planned just to kidnap him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware. They were found dead at the Stone Gate.”

“Dead?” Aether looked up in shock. “That’s the first I’ve heard. And right where I was ambushed…”

“Well, it’s been two weeks since it happened, but you were still on bed rest. We didn’t want to alarm you while you were healing.”

“I understand. But who…” Aether stopped. “Diluc, did you—?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Someone got to the bastards before I could,” Diluc said bitterly. “Don’t look so surprised. Half of Mondstadt would kill for you.”

Aether looked down and clasped his hands in his lap. He stole a glance at Paimon, but she was too engrossed in her food to be paying attention. Aether knew what Diluc said was true, but it was still unnerving. Why would they go to such lengths for Aether? He wasn’t from Teyvat. He was an outsider, an outlander, someone who didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve the kindness and protection of so many.

“You don’t need to go to such lengths.”

“There’s no necessity of it. We want to protect you, and anyone who lays a hand on you will suffer.” Diluc rested his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Let’s say it were Venti who was almost killed. To what lengths would you go to keep him safe and hurt those who dared harm him?”

Unconsciously, Aether tensed. If someone harmed Venti… Aether would kill them. Morals aside, no one would touch Venti and live. In his mind’s eye, Aether saw La Signora plunging her hand into Venti’s chest, stealing his Gnosis and then kicking him aside like trash.

Aether didn’t trust himself to speak, but Diluc saw the murderous expression on his face. If Aether ever saw La Signora again, he would end her with his own two hands.

“Do you understand now?” Diluc asked, and Aether nodded, taking a breath to relax. He was safe, Venti was safe, and La Signora was nowhere near either of them.

Uncurling his hands, he rubbed his palms to soothe the crescents his nails had left. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen.”

“No worries. Now, I hate to cut this short, but business will be picking up soon,” Diluc said with a glance at the door. Aether quickly stood.

“I won’t bother you much longer. But I did have a request. I’d like to purchase a bottle of dandelion wine.”

Diluc raised a brow. “You’re underage.”

Aether resisted the urge to facepalm. If only Diluc knew that he and his twin were older than everyone in Mondstadt combined.

“It’s not for me. I have a guest coming over tonight and I’d like to treat him.”

“That’s what they all say,” Diluc shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips as he opened the cabinet behind him.

“Come on, Paimon. Time to go.” Aether slid enough mora to Diluc and took the bottle of wine. Paimon thanked Diluc for the food, and then they went to leave.

“Say hello to Venti for me,” Diluc said as goodbye. “And tell him to pay his tab or I’ll stop serving him.”

“He’ll weasel free drinks from your patrons if that does occur,” Aether laughed. “But I’ll remind him.”

“Take care, Aether.”

The sun was nearing the horizon as Aether walked home. The shadows were long, but Aether made a point of avoiding them. He always made sure to make it home before dark.

In worlds past, it had always been Lumine who was afraid of the dark. Aether would tease her about it, but he’d always make sure to leave a light on at night. Now, the roles were reversed. Aether couldn’t stand the dark, not without being reminded of his near death experience. He wouldn’t travel at night anymore, making sure to be in a safe place before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Lumine was at home in the darkness of the Abyss. Aether wondered if she ever thought of him, or if she was so dead set on her goals that he was an afterthought. Would Aether have ever seen her if he hadn’t traveled with Dain? Aether was tempted to track down the Abyss Herald just to see her again. He would brave the terror-inducing energy of the domain housing the inverted statue just to see her again. He would fall into the darkness of the Abyss just to find her again, to beg that she come home with him.

But if their roles were reversed, would Lumine do the same? Aether didn’t want to know the answer. The bitter sadness that was left from her abrupt departure was too much to sort through.

“Aether, cheer up! Paimon knows you’re thinking about your sister again, but it’ll be okay. We’ll find her again, don’t you worry,” Paimon broke Aether out of his thoughts.

“You’re right. It may take some time, but we’ll find her,” Aether said with a small smile. There was no use dwelling on Lumine now, not when Aether needed to get ready for his guest.

Ever since the incident three weeks ago, Aether had been staying in an apartment in Mondstadt. Even though he had his teapot, Aether felt safer in Mondstadt, surrounded by people he loved. He didn’t want to burden anyone by asking them to join him in his teapot realm, but he was too lonely by himself. He couldn’t bear being alone. What if something happened and he was all by himself again?

Diluc had offered Aether his city apartment for as long as he needed to recover, but Aether had initially turned down the offer. It wasn’t until he’d been cooking in his teapot mansion and accidentally cut himself chopping vegetables that he reconsidered the offer. The sudden sting of pain and the blood welling on his fingers had sent Aether into such a panic that Paimon had found him huddled on the ground in the kitchen minutes later. It was at Paimon’s firm suggestion that Aether moved into Diluc’s apartment.

Aether made it to the apartment, walking up the stairs to his door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. That was cause for alarm. Aether always locked the door when he left.

But he was in the middle of Mondstadt, and it wasn’t even night yet. Besides, there were two others who had keys to the apartment. One being its owner, Diluc, and the other being…

“Ehe, hello Aether. I may have let myself in,” Venti said from beside the stove. He was cooking dinner. Aether heaved a sigh of relief. It was just Venti. While hanging up his cape and scarf, Aether noticed Venti’s hat on the coat rack and his shoes at the base.

“It’s no problem. I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Aether said while pulling his gloves off.

“I know, but I wanted to treat you with dinner tonight. My food is quite tasty when I cook it right.”

“Well, thank you. I brought you dandelion wine. Diluc says hello, but wants you to pay your tab or he’ll cut you off.” Aether placed the wine on the table while Paimon floated over to Venti to help with the food. Well, she probably just wanted to sneak some food from the bard.

“That Mister Diluc always threatens me, but he always serves me reluctantly.” Venti stirred the contents of the pot. “Thank you for the gift. Which reminds me, I brought you something, though it’s a bit makeshift. I’ll bring something adequate next time.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll appreciate anything you give me. Now, I’ll be back. Don’t burn the house down in the meantime.”

Venti clutched his shirt in mock hurt. “Aether, you wound me.”

Aether just smiled and closed his bedroom door. He summoned his sword and hung it on the wall, then rummaged through his dresser for more casual clothes. When he was done, he joined Venti at the table.

“One Archon special coming right up!” Venti placed a plate full of food in front of Aether and Paimon.

“Is it just Paimon or does this look like a Sweet Madame?”

“Ehe.” Venti rubbed the back of his head and sat across from Aether. “It’s one of the few recipes I can make myself.”

“Well, it’s better than Zhongli. I’m not sure he even knows how to cook rice,” Aether pointed out. “He’ll lecture you all day long on the proper way to prepare rice for different meals, but I bet he wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“He’d be stuck the moment he needs to buy ingredients. That blockhead never changes,” Venti agrees.

“For being the god of Mora, Zhongli never seems to have any. Ironic, isn’t it?” Paimon said, eliciting laughs from Aether and Venti.

“Jokes aside, this tastes really good, Venti,” Aether complimented sincerely.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

Aether washed their plates when they were done. The sun had gone down, the sky painted in shades of red and pink fading into blue.

“Paimon, could you make sure all of the candles are lit?”

“No need to fret. I lit them before we met,” Venti assured while pouring himself wine. “Come sit back down and I’ll give you your gift.”

Aether sat beside Venti, who placed a flower pot on the table.

“Flowers?”

“Dandelions!” Venti said, gesturing to the Anemo-colored puffs. “They grow where there is gentle wind, and in Mondstadt they grow without end. While freedom is our creed, I think these little ones will love it here.”

Aether stared at the dandelions, drawing the clay pot a bit closer to him.

“And, uh, also,” Venti said a bit nervously, “I thought they’d remind you of me, so that even when alone, I’ll be with you in memory.”

It was such a thoughtful gift, given the circumstances, that Aether felt unbearably happy. In lieu of a response, Aether leaned over and hugged Venti.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as Venti’s arms wrapped snugly around Aether’s waist. After a moment, Aether leaned back, relishing in the way Venti’s hands lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll put them on my bedside table by the window. That way I’ll see the dandelions every time I wake up.”

Aether stood, grabbing the dandelion pot, and gestured for Venti to follow. Paimon stayed in the kitchen, munching on cookies Aether had bought earlier in the day.

After placing the dandelions beside his bed, Aether sat down and pulled the elaborate hair tie off and set it aside.

“Help me with my hair?”

“Of course!” Venti climbed onto the bed behind Aether, crossing his legs and grabbing the end of Aether’s braid. “Do you have a brush?”

“Behind you.”

Venti deftly sifted his fingers through Aether’s long, blond hair, carefully untangling any snarls. Aether swallowed, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

It was moments like this that reminded Aether of his feelings for Venti. The care and kindness the god gave him made Aether feel special. Out of anyone in the world, Venti chose to spend his time with Aether. Before Aether had arrived in Teyvat, Venti hadn’t stayed in one place for too long. He had gone where the wind wanted to go, but after meeting Aether, the Archon was never out of reach.

“You like that, hmm?” Venti hummed as he combed through Aether’s hair.

“Mmhmm. You’re gentle. Lumine used to braid my hair, but she’d always pull too hard on the tangles.”

“I braid my own hair enough to know how to be gentle,” Venti said softly. Aether couldn’t see him, but he sounded like he was smiling. Fingers ran down the length of his hair. “Your hair is much longer. And softer.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were back there petting my hair,” Aether teased.

“Maybe I am. It’d be a waste not to.”

Aether opened one eye and turned his head slightly to look at Venti. He was surprised to see a serious look on Venti’s face. It was one full of contemplation.

“Venti?”

“Tell me, Aether, what do you think of me?”

Aether considered the question. The obvious answer was that he loved Venti, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if Venti didn’t love him back? It would ruin the friendship they’d built.

Except, when Aether thought about it, Venti didn’t treat Aether like another one of his friends. A mere friend wouldn’t come by Aether’s apartment every night, wouldn’t cook dinner and bring presents for no reason, and wouldn’t help Aether with his hair. An Archon wouldn’t abandon centuries of wandering to stay with Aether unless Aether meant something more to him. Venti hadn’t left his side since the incident with the Fatui, always checking in on him, protecting him.

Suddenly, Aether remembered his conversation with Diluc. The answer was obvious now.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aether mumbled. He looked at Venti, at his gaze so full of love and kindness, and realized he’d been a fool. This whole time, Venti had harbored feelings beyond friendship. Aether had been too oblivious to see it until now.

“Venti, I…” Venti perked up. Aether fought the rising blush. “I love you.”

Venti’s eyes widened, but then his lips curled into a soft smile. Venti leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Aether’s lips. Aether’s face flushed red, but he closed his eyes. Less than a moment later, Venti’s lips met his.

It was a chaste, simple kiss, but it sent tingles down Aether’s spine. Venti brought his hand up to Aether’s cheek, pulling back enough to speak.

“If the kiss didn’t convey the sentiment, I love you, Aether,” Venti said, his breath hot against Aether’s lips. “This is a bit of an awkward position, with you twisting around like that.”

As soon as he’d said it, Venti shuffled around, swinging a leg over Aether’s hips. Venti settled on his knees over Aether’s lap, forcing Aether to tilt his head up to see him.

“That’s better,” Venti said with a satisfied hum, then captured Aether’s lips in another kiss. Venti cupped Aether’s face with his hands, his lips plump against Aether’s. Venti kissed with a passion, fervent and controlled at the same time.

His right hand trailed to the nape of Aether’s neck, then tangled into his hair. With a sharp tug, Venti pulled on Aether’s hair, tilting Aether’s head at an even sharper angle. A soft gasp escaped Aether’s throat, his hands flying to steady himself on Venti’s waist.

“It’s been so long,” Venti murmured against Aether’s skin as he trailed his kisses along Aether’s jaw, “since someone has made me feel this way.”

Venti mouthed over Aether’s exposed neck, tightening the hand in his hair.

“Venti…” Aether breathed as Venti nipped at the base of his throat. His fingers curled around Venti’s waist at the sensation. He vaguely noted how small Venti’s waist was, how well it fit into Aether’s hands.

Venti’s hand fell away from Aether’s face to rest on the topmost button of Aether’s shirt. Quickly, Aether grabbed his wrist.

“Kisses are enough for now,” Aether said breathlessly. He didn’t think he could handle much more. Venti nodded, removing his hand and pressing a kiss to Aether’s cheek.

“We’ll stop here, then.” Venti brushed a strand of hair from Aether’s face. Aether noted smugly that Venti’s lips were red and slick. He looked a mess, but Aether was sure he looked worse.

“I never said no more kisses,” Aether whined as Venti slipped off of his lap.

“I know, but I don’t think it would be easy to stop if we got ourselves too worked up,” Venti explained. “But, I’ll give you all the kisses you want when I visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Aether agreed with a blush and looked down. A finger tilted his chin upward.

“I love you,” Venti said with a wide smile. He giggled, kissing Aether on the forehead before walking to the bedroom door. “I’ve been waiting forever to say that.”

Aether stood to follow, a giddy smile on his own face. Venti loved him. It was as simple as that, and yet it made Aether’s heart swell with joy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aether promised as they walked through the kitchen. Paimon looked up from where she was sitting at the table, taking a break from floating.

She took one look at them before huffing, “Finally. Pining idiots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aether asked incredulously. Paimon just shook her head and took a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie.

“Goodnight, Aether,” Venti said and adjusted his hat after slipping on his shoes. “I love you.”

“You’re going to say that every time you see me, aren’t you?” Aether joked, leaving against the door frame.

“I’m a bard. I’ll come up with poetic ways to express my love once my head clears up.” Venti stood outside on the stairs. “Thank you for tonight. I left the dandelion wine. I’ll drink more next time.”

“See you tomorrow, Venti.”

“Until tomorrow.” Venti started down the stairs, then paused. “Aether, you should wear your hair down more. You look beautiful in a braid, but in the presence of your unbound hair, the beauty of the heavens fades.”

Aether blushed, pressing his lips together in embarrassment. He absentmindedly twirled his hair.

“Too much?” Venti asked sheepishly.

“I’m flattered,” Aether said. “A little embarrassed, but very flattered.”

“Hmm…” Venti‘s eyes flicked up and down Aether, then settled on his eyes. “I’ll have to make a point of flattering you. That blush suits you.”

“Venti,” Aether whined. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take my leave now before I give you a heart attack.”

“See you!” Aether waved as Venti left. Then he shut the door, locking both of the deadbolts. When he entered the kitchen, Paimon was asleep at the table.

“How does someone who floats and eats all day get tired so easily?” Aether shook his head, then picked Paimon up and laid her down on her bed. She had insisted on having her own bed in the apartment, so Aether had found a child sized bed for her and placed it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Paimon,” Aether said. He fumbled with his shirt, hand pausing on the top button with a blush. All in due time, he thought as he changed into sleep clothes.

Aether climbed into bed, glancing at the dandelions on the bedside, and put his finger to his lips. He could still taste the dandelion wine from Venti’s lips. With a smile, Aether fell into a peaceful sleep.

“Aether!” Paimon’s high pitched scream startled Aether awake. His eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed. It took a moment to gather his bearings, but that was enough time to recognize the danger he was in.

A hulking silhouette stood in the doorway, holding a struggling Paimon by the throat.

“Aether,” she whimpered, and Aether shot forward, reaching for his sword on the wall. He didn’t make it.

The window shattered as a man leapt inside and collided with Aether. He fell backwards from the force, his head slamming against the bedside table. The pot of dandelions toppled over with a crash. Black spots danced across Aether’s vision, but he struggled to his feet.

In such close quarters, using his Palm Vortex wasn’t the best idea, but without a sword it was his only option. Before he could use it, a gust of Anemo snuffed out the candles in the room. In the sudden darkness, Aether could make out the purple glow of the electrohammer vanguard holding Paimon, and the green of the anemoboxer in front of Aether.

Fatui. A spike of fear shot through Aether.

That moment of hesitation was all the anemoboxer needed to rush Aether, knocking him to the ground. A hand pinned him to the ground, wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Aether scrabbled at the hand, kicking to no avail.

With one hand trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat, the other lifted toward the anemoboxer in an attempt to summon his Palm Vortex. Anticipating this, the anemoboxer grabbed Aether’s wrist and twisted.

A sickening crack echoed in the room. Aether screamed and dropped his hand to the side. Despite the pain, he weakly raised his other hand, but the anemoboxer brought something out of his pocket. There was a sharp pinch on Aether’s neck, and he watched as the anemoboxer pulled an empty syringe away.

Aether tried to summon his Anemo, but nothing happened. The hand on his neck was finally gone, but his body felt lethargic. He gasped, coughing from being strangled.

“Aether,” Paimon sobbed.

“Leave the pixie. La Signora just wants the boy,” the anemoboxer told his companion. Aether heard Paimon’s scream followed by a thud. It was quiet.

Aether couldn’t fight the drowsiness forcing his eyes closed. He couldn’t move despite the panic coursing through him at the mention of La Signora. The electrohammer vanguard picked up Aether’s limp body, and he couldn’t fight back.

Aether thought Mondstadt was safe. He caught a glimpse of the soil spilled around the broken pot, the dandelions standing tall despite it.

Aether’s last waking thought was of Venti.

#venti #aether #aether x venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin angst

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years ago

Text

Friends and Fears

Summary: Eris is the Alliance Commander, Cipher Nine; Reykal is the most recent champion of the Great Hunt. Each of them finds someone utterly unintimidated by them in the other - something both of them need, especially when discussing old fears usually best left buried. Or, Just a quick one-shot of a bar chat between friends that should've taken me a week and instead somehow took me the better part of a year because I kept getting stuck. (Title subject to change, I've been sitting here for twenty minutes and can't think of anything better so it's either this or the doc name which is just "Spooky", if anyone comes up with anything better feel free to give me a heads-up)

Tags: Female Bounty Hunter & Female Imperial Agent, alcohol consumption (not excessive)

Find me on AO3 at Dragonheart37!

-----

The tiny, grimy cantinas that dotted the streets of every space station like this one were always bustling with activity, rowdy with fights and gambling and music, and this one was no different. It wasn't the kind of place where you couldn't take your hand off your credit purse, but it definitely was the kind of place you wanted to keep a vibroknife on you at all times, just in case. Any self-respecting citizen – Imperial, Republic, or Alliance, and probably Zakuulian too – would steer clear of a place like this. Which was, of course, exactly why it was the best kind of place for an Alliance Commander and a Great Hunt champion to disappear; Reykal always fit right in without even trying, and all it took was a change of makeup and a less formal outfit for Eris to go unnoticed in a place where no one was looking for her.

Reykal had promised this particular spot had the best food and drinks this side of the station, and she wasn't wrong – the fare here was greasy, but good, and came in truly enormous proportions. Better yet, it was busy and loud, and after a quick scan and sweep for bugs – purely out of habit, of course – Eris could actually believe that she didn't need to be on high guard for people listening in. It was nice to just settle in and amiably listen to Reykal spin dramatic stories of her most impressive hunts – even if she'd heard one or two of them before – and of her most recent ones as well, side jobs taken while the Alliance didn't have anything of import for her.

She was just wrapping up one such story when Eris spotted the Sith.

Eris, through sheer power of habitual control, did not stiffen at the sight of him – masked and robed in full Sith garb, clearly just passing through the cantina on his way out from a back room somewhere. She tracked him for a moment – but he didn't turn to look at them, just swept past as if the room were empty instead of crowded with people. She carefully didn't turn to watch him go, despite the urge to do so and despite seeing Reykal turn out of the corner of her eye. Instead, as soon as she was satisfied he wasn't approaching them, she locked her eyes on the reflections in her glass to the exclusion of all else, using the visual focus to shutter everything else away. If there's nothing else in your mind, there's nothing they can read. Just glass, light and color reflected over the curved surface, playing shapes over the pale green liquid inside, tiny bubbles floating to the surface – no thought, no emotion, just glass. Nothing they can read.

“Kinda spooky, aren't they?”

She glanced up at Reykal's interruption. The Togruta sipped her brandy. “Sith. Jedi. Force people.” She wiggled her fingers as if that needed further explanation. “The way they move, the way people move for 'em without even realizing. How they answer questions you haven't even asked sometimes.” She snorted into her glass. “Fuckin' spooky.”

Eris chuckled despite herself, tension easing at the sheer casualness of Reykal's blasphemy. The Sith was gone, the door swinging shut behind him as Reykal spoke – out of the usual range of mental contact. Reykal's eyes sparkled with humor too; she stretched her arms out in front of her across the bar like a cat, all relaxed grace despite her bulk. “It's not the way I would have put it,” Eris admitted, “but I can't say you're wrong.”

“They make everybody nervous. It's not just you. Though I'm surprised you haven't gotten more used to 'em, considering.” She smiled when Eris blinked, a little surprised. “You hide it well. But you quit moving for a split second every time one of 'em comes into the room. You spend more time watching them than me, or Dad, or Hylo. Which probably isn't good for your wallet, knowing Dad and Hylo.” She grinned to take the edge off the joke, points of her fangs still hidden.

“Apparently I don't hide it well enough,” Eris remarked, sipping her own drink – some bubbly lime-and-mint mix she'd already forgotten the name of that the bartender promised tasted almost exactly like its alcoholic version – as she scanned the crowd once. “I've had some... bad experiences. Let's just put it that way.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. You worked with 'em back in the Empire, right?” Reykal rested her chin on one hand, fingers tapping her temple absently. “I did a job for some Intelligence guy, back in the day. Forget his name. Seemed pretty skeeved by the whole thing. Ended up having to kill him after he did try to murder me. 'Loose ends,' or whatever.”

Eris blinked. “Oh, that was you? I think I heard about that.”

Reykal raised her eyebrows. “Really? I thought it was supposed to be under the table, nobody was supposed to know about it.”

Eris laughed aloud at that, shaking her head. “Intelligence always knows.” She paused. “Which probably wasn't the most comforting thing to say, was it?”

“Probably not.” Reykal grinned at her again. “I figure if Intelligence was going to come after me, they'd have done it by now.”

“You were a low-priority target,” Eris assured her, smiling back wryly. “We had bigger fish to fry, at the time. That would have been right before the Dominator blew up and everything went to hell.”

“Bigger fish to fry, eh?” Reykal chuckled. “I'm insulted.”

“Intelligence deals with pretty big fish. Be glad you weren't one of them.”

“Speaking from experience?” Reykal asked, arching an eyebrow.

Eris shrugged, sipping her drink again to hide her smile. “That's classified.”

Reykal scoffed, mocking exasperation at the old half-joke. “'That's classified.' Someday I'm going to have to get some actual drinks in you to get all those classified stories out of you.” She winked. “Personally, I think you just can't hold your alcohol and that's why you're never caught dead with it.”

“That's also classified.” She didn't bother to hide the grin this time.

“Kriff's sake,” Reykal exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You're impossible. I don't know why I bother.”

Eris laughed. “I'm sure you're very put-upon to deal with me.”

Reykal downed the rest of her glass and turned to flag down the bar droid; Eris took the opportunity to sip her drink and sift through her thoughts again, deliberating. “You're right,” she murmured after a moment of quiet. Reykal turned back to her, raising an eyebrow, and she clarified, “The Sith do... make me nervous. They all do, but... Sith especially.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh. “It's not exactly a secret, at least not to them. They can feel fear a mile away.”

Reykal took her refilled drink absently, attention focused on Eris much more seriously than she had been before. “Working with 'em doesn't help?” she asked. “You and Beniko seem... close.”

Eris tapped the rim of her drink, staring down into it as she thought through her next words. “Minister Beniko and I have worked together closely for long enough that I'm no longer concerned about her...” She trailed off.

“Acting like a murder-hobo Sith?” Reykal filled in. Eris gave her a look that made her snort and raise an appeasing hand. “Sorry. But you were thinking it too.”

“I would have phrased it more tactfully,” Eris sighed, “but... yes. Sith... they tend to use their power to its utmost to control those around them. It's just how things are in the Empire. And they have a great deal of power.” She pursed her lips. “Do you know some cultures worship Force-users as demigods?” Reykal shook her head. “It's true. And who can really blame them?”

Reykal nodded. “A lot of people are scared of them. Not just in the Empire, either. Anyone in their right mind would be wary.”

“It's... bizarre, to be equal to a Force-user,” Eris admitted. “In the Empire, even the lowest Sith acolyte ranks above the Force-blind. To have Minister Beniko and Darth Nox at my war table – my war table – and not be answering to them as superiors... I'm still not used to it, even after all this time. And Master Garen'ishta, and the Barsen'thor – even Senya. I'm used to having to be afraid of them. At this point, I'm not sure I'm capable of not being nervous around them. Not...” Not after Jadus. And Zhorrid. But that she couldn't say out loud, not here, not even to Reykal. “Not after working directly under them for so long.”

Reykal hummed sympathetically, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I don't blame you. I talk a big game, but really, Force-users have been some of my most dangerous targets. There's a reason most hunters don't take contracts on them at all.” She took a sip of brandy, jaw working as she thought. Quietly, barely audible over the noise of the bar, she added, “D'you actually think any of 'em might turn on you?”

Eris pursed her lips, but shook her head. “Not at this point. The Jedi will fight alongside us for as long as they're convinced our cause serves the greater good – no matter how much the Barsen'thor pretends to be aloof. If Nox were going to turn on us, she would've done it by now; she's had ample opportunity, and in any case, she hates Zakuul and Arcann for stealing her place in the Empire from her too much to ally with them. Senya... Senya will stay loyal for now, at least. And Minister Beniko has long since proved her loyalty, as I said.”

“Well, that's good, at least.” Reykal cracked a grin. “Better'n if you were actually logically worried about 'em.”

Eris smiled. “Are you insinuating that I'm being illogical?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“You are insufferable,” she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink.

Reykal laughed aloud, fangs flashing in the light. “Eh, that's why you like me. None of that faffin' about trying to be dainty and diplomatic about it.”

Eris shook her head, still smiling, but didn't deny it. It was true, really – Reykal was perhaps the only person she talked to on a regular basis who wasn't constantly embroiled in politics and diplomacy, who was brashly open about her thoughts and feelings. It was refreshing, if she was honest – a chance to relax for once, to not constantly have to be watching her every word and gesture. To pretend they were just two friends at a bar and nothing more, for a little while.

Reykal spun around on her stool and leaned back against the bar, flipping her back lek over the edge so it wouldn't get crushed. “We should go shooting after this,” she offered, grinning lazily at Eris. “See if your pistol aim's gotten any better.”

Eris arched an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. It was hard to tell in the cantina's soft mood lighting, but she was fairly sure Reykal's lekku were flushed a deeper red than usual. She half-smiled. “I think you've had one too many drinks for that, Master Candessan.”

“Pah, too many drinks. I've shot in worse situations'n this, more drunk'n this.” She grinned again to take the edge off the comment. “Suit yourself, though. What do you do for fun, anyway, when you're not gettin' swamped by hell-knows-what kinda work from the Alliance?”

“You might have heard of this thing called 'reading,'” Eris said, allowing herself an impish grin.

Reykal scoffed playfully through her teeth. “Oh, sure, now the high-and-mighty Imperial act comes out.”

“Don't tell me you're a literary connoisseur.”

“Doesn't mean I don't read.” She stuck out her tongue at Eris in a gesture so childish it startled a genuine laugh out of her. “Miss Hoity-Toity Imperial-Logo-Boxers over here, makin' fun of us peasant folk. What's the Alliance come to?”

Eris swatted her shoulder, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“'Cause you like me,” Reykal reminded her cheerfully. She slid off the stool to stand next to the bar. “C'mon, finish your drink already and let's get outta here. We can go window-shopping on the boardwalk and see if there's anything to spend the night on.”

“I do have work to do tomorrow,” Eris told her, but she swallowed the last of her drink and stood as well, sliding a credit chit across the counter to the bar droid as it clanked over.

Reykal wagged a scolding finger at her. “Ay, none of that. You said we'd get a night on the town, you're getting a night on the town. You work yourself too hard.”

“Very well,” Eris agreed, shaking her head with a fond smile. “But I draw the line at drunk bounty hunting or robbing anyone in an alley.”

“You're no fun.” Reykal offered her arm with a dramatic flourish and Eris took it with another laugh, letting the bounty hunter lead her out the door.

#swtor #swtor ocs #swtor fanfiction #imperial agent #bounty hunter #erisine #reykal #eris has ✨trauma✨#reykal's really good for her honestly though #'casual blasphemy' is exactly what she needs sometimes #the contrast in voice between these two cracks me up honestly #fanfiction

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coldflame96 · 4 years ago

Text

Lunch Break

Summary: Tohru skips lunch to avoid being an inconvenience. Thankfully, she has a loving huband to set her straight.

Rating: G

Also found on AO3 and FF.net

Inspired by a RL situation with a friend of mine.

The store was busy today. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was starting to get hungry. They had just finished with the last customer in line.

“Hey, Tohru-kun,” Her supervisor got her attention, “I know it’s kinda late, but did you wanna take your lunch break?”

“Yes,” she sighed in relief. “Thank you, Kaori-san.”

She opened the mini fridge and felt her heart skip a beat. It was empty...She thought back to when she had left this morning and rested her head on the counter, groaning. She must’ve forgotten it in the fridge this morning.

“What’s wrong?” Kaori-san asked.

“I was in such a rush this morning I forgot my lunch,” she admitted shamefully.

“Oh, well that’s no big deal! Just go to the cafe around the corner. Kenji-kun is working and he likes me so just tell him I sent you and he’ll make whatever you want for free.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Eh? Why? Will your husband get jealous? He doesn’t have to know.”

She shook her head. “Kenji-kun is always working so hard I can’t trouble him like that!”

“Trouble him?” Kaori-san laughed. “Man, you’re really funny sometimes, Tohru-kun.” She frowned. She was sure Kaori-san didn’t mean anything by it, but sometimes it felt like she was a small child being dismissed even though they were close to the same age. She didn’t really like it...

“Oh! Good afternoon!” Kaori-san greeted as the bell rung.

Well...her shift was over soon anyway. Might as well just hold out until she got home. She would be fine.

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

She wasn’t fine. It had been a rough day. She ended up having to stay three hours later than initially planned due to a coworker calling off sick. She clenched her stomach. She was so hungry!

On shaky legs, she managed to let herself into their apartment. Thankfully, her and Kyo-kun had gone grocery shopping yesterday so there was enough there to make something easy.

Just the thought of eating made her stomach yowl in protest.

She set up two boiling pots of water, one for rice, the other for the potatoes.

She mustered up whatever energy she could to start peeling the potatoes, arms heavy with fatigue. She was really tired. Hopefully Kyo-kun wouldn’t be too disappointed if she tucked in early after dinner.

She heard the creak of the door. “Tohru?” Oh, so he was home already.

“Kyo-kun!” she jumped up from the table, apparently too fast as it made her woozy, and tried to run to greet her husband but ended up tripping on the way, strong arms keeping her afloat from under her shoulders.

“Whoa! Clumsier than usual, huh?”

This would normally be the time when she would defend herself, but her tongue was...stuck.

Kyo-kun, always so perceptive, cocked his head in concern. “Tohru, are you okay?” he stroked her cheek. “You look pale.”

Say something. “I-I’m fine, Kyo-kun.”

He wasn’t convinced. “You don’t really look fine.” He put a warm hand on her forehead, brow furrowed. “You don’t have a fever..”

She pulled away, careful not to be too abrupt. “I’m fine, really! I just feel a bit faint. Once I get something to eat, I’m sure I’ll be right as rain!”

“What, did you take your lunch break really early today or something?”

She giggled nervously. “Yeah, something like that.”

“What time did you eat?”

She froze, blanching. She was never a very good liar, and with the way he was staring at her now, she knew she wasn’t getting anything past him.

“Before I left,” she mumbled.

“Huh?”

She cleared her throat. “Last time I ate was...before I left.”

Kyo-kun gave her a steady look. “That was over 11 hours ago.”

She averted her eyes shamefully. His fingers crooked her chin up so they were facing each other. “Tohru, why would you not eat?”

“I-um-” she floundered, “I was in a rush this morning and I completely forgot to pack my lunch and I didn’t realize it until I was already there.”

“There’s a cafe down the street from you. Why didn’t you just order from them?”

“W-well, I-I thought about it but I didn’t really have time to go pick anything up.”

“So have someone else do it. You could’ve called me and I would’ve brought you something.”

She waved her hands. “Well, everyone was really busy and I didn’t wanna bother them and have them make food for me. It’s my own fault I forgot my lunch, not theirs and-”

He groaned, “Tohru, you’re not bothering anyone, that’s literally their job. They get paid to make food for people. Including you.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. She’d been kicking herself for it all day. “By the time I had time for a break, I was already almost off anyway, so I figured I would just wait til I got home.”

He cupped her cheeks. “You should’ve eaten something sooner, a pack of crackers, anything. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

She jerked away. “I’m fine, really!” And then she swayed and soon enough she was in the air, tossed over her husband's shoulder like a sack.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he asked nonchalantly, not even grunting with the effort of carrying her at all, which she vowed to file away for future use. “I’m taking my wife to bed.” Almost married for a year now and she still felt a tingle in her chest when he called her that.

“What?! But- but dinner!-”

“I’ll finish it.” And then he gently tossed her on their bed. “Last thing we need is for you to pass out while cooking.”

She wanted to argue, to protest, but the longer she sat, the more the energy left her. And all that was left...was shame. Shame at herself for not eating over something so silly, shame that Kyo-kun had to come home from a long day just to worry about her...Her throat got choked up and she felt her eyes go misty.

“Tohru?” He asked softly. He was always so kind, so much kinder than she ever deserved. Long fingers fanned her cheeks, wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes and he was kneeling in front of her now at eye level. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m always being stupid and making you worry about me.”

“You’re not stupid and if I don’t worry about you, then who will?” She didn’t have much of an answer to that. “I’m not mad at you,” he sighed out, “And I don’t mind taking care of you. If you don’t want me to worry, then you should be better at taking care of yourself once in a while.”

She sniffed, nodding. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He grabbed something out of his pocket. “Here.”

She scrunched her eyebrow at the wrapped snack. “A granola bar?”

“You need something in your system before dinner. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

He was always so rational. She smiled softly. “Thank you.”

He hummed in response, pushing her hair back to kiss her forehead. “I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready. Just sit here and relax for a bit.”

And then he was gone.

She obediently opened her granola bar, chewing in slow, careful bites. She really would have to be more careful, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like Kyo-kun could trail her around to make sure she wasn’t hurting. She smiled at that visual image. Cute.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, sinking into the mattress, slowly getting through her granola.

“Oi,” she got a light bonk on the head and she jolted.

“Oh, Kyo-kun! You’re back already?”

He raised an eyebrow and then burst into chuckles.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen someone space out while eating a granola bar.” he stroked her hair. “You’re really adorable sometimes.”

She blushed and he just laughed some more and she felt her breath leave her a bit. He really was beautiful, wasn’t he?

“C’mon, come eat with me. I’ve missed you.” She knew he meant it. Kyo-kun didn’t just say things to butter her up. Before she could respond though, she was being hoisted from under her knees into the air.

She squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms instinctively around his neck. “Kyo-kun, I can walk on my own,” she protested weakly.

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s more fun this way.”

He started walking out, effortlessly. Did she weigh anything to him at all?

“Nah, you’re pretty light.” he responded, and she stiffened as she realized she said that out loud.

“Am I?” She’d always thought she was pretty average sized.

“I’ve held kittens heavier than you,” he drawled.

She pouted, huffing, “Now you’re just bullying me.”

He snorted. “You love it though, don’t you?”

Well, two could play at that game. “Of course!” she chirped innocently, “I love everything about you.” And then she kissed his jawline sweetly and watched with delight as his cheeks turned pink and his grip slackened enough that she could slide down to the floor gently.

She saw the spread on the table and clapped her hands together. “Wow, Kyo-kun! It looks so good!” Then she grinned at him. “You’re so amazing!”

His face almost matched his hair now. “It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, “It’s just dinner.”

They’ve known each other for almost half a decade now and he still got so bashful over the smallest things.

She threaded her fingers through his. “Thank you.”

The shy smile he gave her made it all worth it.

“Hey, Tohru?” he asked as she sat down to eat. She looked up at him curiously. “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Just call next time. You’re never a bother. Not to me.”

Of course she knew that. It had been clear to her for a long time, but it didn't stop her eyes from getting watery. Her traitorous brain still sometimes told her she wasn't worth it, and here he was to tell her otherwise. She wondered if she'd ever get used to it.

"Oi, don't get all weepy on me now," he scolded gently. "You need to eat."

She rubbed her eyes. "Right."

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

It’d been over two weeks since that incident and she’d been extra diligent to make sure she brought her lunch with her every day.

Kyo-kun had said she could call him if she needed to, but she still wanted to avoid doing that if she could.

She felt the rumble of her stomach. She had finished with wiping the counters, cleaning the windows, and organizing the snack areas. She should ask Kaori-san for a break soon…

"Hey, Tohru-kun," oh! And there she was! "There's a super hot guy over there checking you out! I know you're married so you want me to send him away?"

She scrunched her brow. Super hot…? She looked where Kaori-san was pointing and her eyes widened at the familiar copper hair.

"Kyo-kun!" She gasped.

"Wait, you know him?" But she was already running from behind the counter, only vaguely registering Kaori-san calling her.

She only had eyes for the man in front of her, still in his gi and looking so effortlessly handsome.

"Kyo-kun!" She grabbed his sleeve.

He smiled at her. "Oh, hey. That was quick."

"Wh-what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the dojo?"

"I'm on lunch. I wanted to see you. Have you taken your break yet?"

"Uhh, no, I was just about to…"

"Take it now." He nodded towards the counter where Kaori-san was watching them with rapt attention. "That's your supervisor?"

"Yes."

"Want me to tell her?" The woman in question narrowed her eyes.

"No, that's okay!" She waved her hands. "I've gotten a lot done already so I'm sure she won't mind! I can..ask her."

"Alright, I'll wait here then."

His eyes lingered on her as she carefully made her way behind the counter to grab her lunch.

"Sorry for the short notice, Kaori-san, but I wanted to take my break now if you don't mind."

"Just a minute, Tohru-kun," Kaori-san stopped her in her tracks. And then she lowered her voice. "Who is that guy?"

"Eh? He's my husband!"

"Him?" Then she put her chin in her hands. "Wow, no wonder you're always talking about him. You hit the jackpot, didn’t you?"

Tohru felt something warm in her chest and she whispered fondly, "Yeah, I did."

"Does he have a twin by any chance? Brother, sister, it doesn't matter to me."

"Sorry, Kaori-san," she said sheepishly, "he's one of a kind." And he’s mine, a tiny, possessive part of her brain whispered. "I'm going on break now so I'll see you later."

And she left before Kaori-san could give a proper response. In the past, she would be worried about coming off rude and she would probably apologize later, but she had a wonderful husband waiting for her and he was first priority.

And as they walked out hand in hand, she was reminded not for the first time and certainly not the last, how blessed she was to have him.

#kyoru #furuba #fruits basket #tohru honda #kyo sohma

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thewritewolf · 4 years ago

Text

After the End Chapter 13: Flower Shop

Marinette and Chat Noir talk about the future

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

It was too chilly to be standing out on the balcony alone at this time of year, and especially with how late it was. The nearly-winter air only grew more biting when the sun sank below the horizon and if you closed your eyes you could almost smell the frost on the wind.

Thankfully, Marinette was not alone.

Between her jacket, sewn by her own hand to be as warm as it was fashionable, and being tucked snuggly against Chat Noir, the cold barely even crossed her mind. It was much closer than either of them would have been comfortable with just a couple months ago, but the nights they’d spent in each other’s company had slowly but surely shifted things between them. For now, neither of them wanted to examine those changed feelings too closely.

Instead, Marinette wanted answers to a different set of questions entirely.

“What are your plans for the future?”

---------------------------

The yellow tape with the words in all capital letters ‘CONDEMNED’ disintegrated into black ash along with the rest of the door. Chat Noir pulled back his hand, glanced around at the empty side street, and drifted inside noiselessly.

Finding this place had taken some ingenuity on his part - Marinette may have gotten his brain jogging, but there were a lot of options in the city. In the end, though, all he needed to do was find the ones that had been abandoned since at least the fall of Hawkmoth.

Taking a deep breath of the dusty, stale air that carried a hint of rot to it, Chat Noir knew that this place fit that description to a t.

Chat Noir blended into the shadows and began to search through the wreckage.

--------------------------

“I don’t know,” Chat said with a shrug. “Right now, I’m just focusing on my hero duties. There’s still a mystery that needs solving.”

“I mean, yeah, but don’t you have a life outside of this?” She ran a finger along the edge of his mask for a moment. “You’ve got to have a plan once everything on that side of it is resolved, right?”

“What’s your plan then?” He leaned on the balcony rail and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Simple - I’m going to build a new fashion empire. After the Agreste brand imploded, there is space for something new to flourish.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Chat shook his head, staring off into the distance. “With everything that came to light after Hawkmoth got unmasked, it looks like they had it coming.”

A wave of anger washed over Marinette. She put a hand on her hip and jabbed a finger at Chat. “Listen. There was only one bad Agreste and I’m grateful for how you and Ladybug took him down, but the rest…”

She let go of Chat’s chin as the anger abated. All she was left with was a cold pit in her stomach, old doubts resurfacing as the memories of the days and weeks following the unmasking replayed in her mind. Was there anything else she could have done? Would Adrien still be in Paris, safe and happy with them, if she had done better?

“They were victims like everyone else.”

-------------------------

Even with his gentle footfalls, debris still crunched under his feet. Something about it tickled at the back of his mind. The devastation around him seemed almost… familiar.

Destruction was something of a specialty of his, after all. He’d seen cataclysm get used on countless objects and substances over the course of his years being Chat Noir. But it didn’t look like anything that the miraculous had done - there wasn’t enough ash and black decay for that. Then it suddenly hit him as he lifted a piece of wood that looked like it had vibrated apart.

His miraculous hadn’t inflicted this damage - this was the doing of the butterfly. Specifically, a sonic-based akuma back in January. That one was rough, with large swaths of the city getting screamed apart. But the miraculous cure had put everything back to normal, same as it always did.

So why hadn’t this place?

------------------------

“There’s plenty of options for you!”

“You don’t know that much about me, Marinette,” Chat replied with a sad smile. “How can you possibly know what would make a good fit for me?”

“I don’t need to know what your face looks like to know something that fits your personality.” She snorted. “Well, except for modeling, but what would you model? Leather? Cat ears?”

“Yeah. Me, a model? Ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry, there’s lots of other stuff for you.” She took a theatrical few steps back, made a square with her fingers that she surrounded him with, and closed one eye. “How about… Chat Noir the circus clown!”

Chat laughed. “Oh, so you’re saying you always secretly liked my pun, huh? Then I’ve got a few more for you…”

“Oh right, you’ve got to actually be funny to be a clown.” She stuck her tongue out playfully to take the bite out of her words. “My bad.”

“Clown’s out then - what else you got?”

“Teacher? You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

“Eh, maybe. I like kids but I’ve never been much of an authority figure.” He whispered to her conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Ladybug, but I’m actually a big rebel. Sometimes I stay up a whole hour past my bed time.”

“Wow, next you’ll tell me you don’t even look both ways before crossing the street.”

“Of course I do, I’m an anarchist, not stupid.”

“Which brings me to my next Chat career - counsellor. Like helping people work through their problems?”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah…” she tapped his nose, making him blink. “I can tell those eyes have seen a lot. And yet, you’ve come through it. Maybe you can use what you’ve learned to help people?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”

“Well… and this one is a bit out there, but… How about opening a flower shop? You’ve always been such a romantic and- Chat? Are you okay?”

He had suddenly gone very stiff, his eyes widening as he took in a sharp breath. It seemed to pass quickly, suddenly replaced with a manic energy as his hand darted for his baton.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go! I just had an idea!”

“Wait, Chat-!”

But it was too late. He’d leapt off the balcony and gone running off into the night.

Marinette was left to wonder - did he really have an idea, or had she made him uncomfortable? Did thinking of the future really upset him so much?

-----------------------

Whoever had been here before must have left in a hurry and never come back, Chat Noir thought as he passed rows of decayed flower beds. Little was left of the beautiful plants except for gnarled twigs and rotten petals. It wasn’t what he was here for, but it did give him some hope that maybe, just maybe, the Gentlemen had forgotten something here.

If they had ever been here in the first place, that is.

Chat Noir stepped into the backroom of the former flowershop. The rubble that might have given a civilian difficulties yielded to super human strength and the slightest touch of Cataclysm. There, he found a small filing cabinet marked with the store’s name - Boutonnière Noir.

While he was grabbing what few files remained, intending to pour over them back at the mansion, the gleam of something metallic caught his eye at the bottom of the cabinet. Reaching in, he pulled out a badge that just barely fit in the palm of his hand. It had no words, but he knew in his heart that it was the symbol of the Gentlemen - a man with a top hat, a fanged smile, and a finger held up like a hush.

After one last look over the husk of the Boutonnière Noir, Chat Noir left with his spoils.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Marichat #MarichatMay2021 #ml fanfiction #my writing #After the End

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thotsforvillainrights · 4 years ago

Text

~Called to the Office~

Au: Kaishi

Part: Eighteen

Theme: General/Comedy

Little fingers scrambled on the semi-sticky screen as the digital fruit played a slicing animation just before the boy sighed in annoyance. His dad has been in this meeting since 4 p.m. and he’s been stuck out in the hall watching Mimic and Hojo stand guard while simultaneously baby sitting him. If it weren’t for you being out with Pops today, he would just go cuddle up into your side. Kaishi groaned and turned the pad off before tucking it into it’s designated case and standing up from the his crisscross position on the ground. “How much longer is daddy going to be in this boring meeting uncle Mimic???” The beanie baby (lmao) looked up to see hopeful, large golden eyes peering down in desperation. “Eh look kid, it’s already almost 5:45. It’s gonna be alright.” Mimic tried to reassure him while Hojo just nodded off to the side. “When is daddy going to let me join him in a meeting? He said it himself, that I’m supposed to take over when he stops working like grandpa did for him. I’m old enough now to go to meetings too. It’s boring sitting here just listening through the wall.” Kaishi continued complaining. Hojo chuckled and Mimic sighed. “Hey I wouldn’t rush it. Your daddy hates the shit too, so I know you would.” Suddenly the kid gasped and Mimic instantly regretted it. “Uncle Mimic, that was a curse word.” Hojo was holding in as much laughter as he could while the boy kept a finger pointed down at Irinaka. “A curse word is just uhh...it’s just like a sentence enhancer. Yeah that’s it!”

“Sentence Enhancer?”

“Sure kid, aint you ever seen that one episode of SpongeBob?” Kaishi paused to think about Mimic’s words, his little finger pointing into his chin as he thought before gasping. “Oh yeah I remember! But I can’t remember how it ends. I just remember dolphin noises!” Hojo at this point was gasping for air while Mimic sighed in relief. “Look kid, I’ve said worse than ‘shit’ when I was your age. You just gotta make sure nobody catches you saying it and you’ll be fine.” Mimic dismissed it...Which was a mistake. Kaishi took it so literally that he was practicing in the mirror that night after he finished brushing his teeth. Over and over the boy kept whispering “shit, shit, shit...” as if it were a prayer of some sort. His plan was to be the first kid in his class to start saying it. Maybe then he would be seen as cool by the other kids. Maybe then the kids would stop targeting him and singling him out due to his ties with the yakuza. Maybe then he could even impress his little friend Ishida?

He squealed into his pillow and blushed at the thought of it before rolling over and settling in for bed. Before he knew it, the big day had come and his confidence was through the roof. In fact, the entire day went well for the first half until a teacher overheard him in cafeteria saying: “I don’t know why they keep serving us this nasty shit.” Next thing he knew, he was sitting in the office with his eyes facing the ground, kicking his feet in the chair and waiting for you and Kai to show up...

------------------

“It’s rare that they bloom during this time of the year.” You spoke while leaning down and getting a closer view of the plants by the Koi pond. Kai stood faithfully by your side, googling info on the plants when suddenly Pops called from the edge of the porch. “Hey you two might wanna pack up gardening hour because the school called and requested for you to come and get my grandson from the office!”

“What????” Both of you said in unison. You quickly swiped the keys and Kai groaned in frustration as he dawned his beaked mask in favor of his simple black one. “I swear this had better not be some sort of discrimination again. Haven’t we already dealt with enough of this in the past?” He complained in the car while you focused on driving. “Chisaki it could be anything. Don’t forget about the times he came home banged up from fights. Or what if it’s something really bad like he had an allergic reaction to something he didn’t know he was allergic to?!” Kai reached out to gently stroke your shoulder and calm you down while you drove. “It could be any number of things but I suppose it’s better if we keep calm until we get there.” He spoke and you tried to calm down. Once on premises you both jetted down the halls into the office, scaring the front desk lady at the way the door urgently jutted open. “Chisaki I presume?” She asked and you both nodded. “He’s in there.” She pointed at the principle door and you entered first.

“What is the meaning of it this time.” Kai grumbled while you squatted down next to the chair to check out your baby and ensure he was safe. “Well today one of Kaishi’s teachers caught him speaking in a derogatory way by saying, and I quote: “Shit”. Apparently we have a few witnesses that say they heard him say it over and over but they weren’t quite sure until earlier. I’m sure you both know the consequences of this, but I’m willing to let it slide since he’s a fairly well behaved boy under normal circumstances. I will however have to remove him for the rest of the day. I trust you two will follow through with discipline at home yes?”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about that.” Kai spoke darkly. You could only stand to side and look with a disappointed look as your child looked up at you to at least show mercy. The car ride home was silent with tension so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Once the car was parked, Kaishi quickly gathered his things and ran into the house before you and Kai could even take your seatbelts off. He sighed and looked at you flatly. “No bargaining, Angel.” You frowned and reluctantly nodded. “Kai please just go easy on him at least?” You begged and he sighed in reply before getting out of the car. To say the least, you had to watch your son become the personal maid for the house carrying on for almost 3 weeks while Mimic got a pay dock when Kai found out he was the influence behind this. Safe to say Kaishi abstained from cursing until he was at least 18 out of fear that his father was listening somewhere somehow.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

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

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kaishi #kaishi Au

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ghosttotheparty · 4 years ago

Text

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

6. I can’t even leave my room so I keep pouring AO3

And I've been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit I can't even leave my bedroom so I keep pouring And I ain't seen a light of day since, well, that's not important It's been long - Feeling Whitney // Post Malone

Lucas actually wakes up this morning.

It’s nice. Much better than laying against his wall all through the night, his eyes stuck on his laptop, watching Netflix or Youtube, or on his sketchbook, watching his pencil or pen or paint trailing across the page, leaving lines and smudges in its wake. And then looking up blearily when he realises he can see across his dark room because the sun is peeking through his blinds.

Today he wakes up when his phone starts buzzing and chiming next to his head, half under his pillow. It startles him, and he gasps as his eyes fly open, sitting up and muttering, “Jesus…” as he shuts off his alarm and tosses it to the floor next to him. It clatters against the wood and he winces, looking up at his door and running a hand through his hair.

He grabs food from the kitchen and eats it during his first class, scribbling the homework on a piece of paper he finds on the floor and doodling flowers and eyes as he forgets to pay attention. The teacher's voice turns into white noise.

- - -

He drifts off again in another class, and wakes up to a chorus of voices saying “Thank you,” and “Goodbye.” He doesn’t bother joining them, instead just clicking the hang up button and dropping his head to his arm, sighing and closing his eyes for a second before pushing himself up and groaning.

It’s the third red button he’s pressed just today.

He thinks about how many he presses a day.

Five classes, five red buttons.

Five days a week.

For weeks and weeks.

And weeks.

Christ.

Lucas huffs and pushes himself to sit cross-legged in front of the computer. He pushes it out of his mind, the remembrance that this is… it. All he has. This and a few texts from Kes and Jayden, usually about school or other kids from school, often complaining. Usually complaining. Sometimes he gets texts from Isa, silly selfies or pictures of birds. She knows he likes birds. Sometimes he gets texts from Noah, pictures of his art, drawings and paintings and doodles, or texts from Janna, which are never expected but always make him laugh. Sometimes Liv texts him just to check in.

It.

Homework and classes and red buttons and once-in-a-while texts from people he doesn’t see anymore.

And Jens, he remembers as his phone buzzes. And he smiles, but he really shouldn’t, so he pushes it away as he reaches to the floor and grabs the phone, reading.

guess what i’m making… 🥚🍳👨🏻🍳

He lets the smile push its way back onto his face (there’s no one to see anyway) as he shakes his head.

you didn’t give me time to guess, dummy

He lays on his back and holds his phone above his head, sighing as the bubble appears on his screen.

i’m impatient

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head again.

anyway good morning 😌, Jens texts a few seconds later.

good morning 🌞, Lucas responds even though it’s not really that sunny out. how are you today

well i woke up to my sisters arm hitting me in the face and i just burned an egg so that’s just kind of how it’s going so far you?

Lucas smiles again.

pretty dry so far but who knows

Like it’s a trigger, Lucas’s door swings open loudly and he tilts his head back, looking at his father upside down.

“...Yes?”

“You have to do the dishes, yeah?” he says flatly.

“But I did them last night,” Lucas says, still holding his phone above his head. He doesn’t look at it, even as it gives a short buzz with Jens’s response.

“And I brought dinner for you.”

“You brought chicken home and I cooked it.”

It’s true. Lucas had to Google how to do it, and it was the blandest, driest chicken he’s ever had, but it sufficed. There was nothing else in the kitchen he could have made. Back home, there��s usually things in the cupboard to micwave.

“Lucas—” His dad pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, huffing. Exasperated, like Lucas is the issue here. “Just do it.”

“Fine, whatever,” Lucas mutters, looking at his phone, but he doesn’t get to read the message before his dad snaps at him.

“Don’t whatever me,” he says sharply.

“Fine,” Lucas says, stopping him. “Yes. I will.”

He leaves without shutting Lucas’s door.

Lucas takes a second, huffing at the open hallway. He hates him. And he knows he Shouldn’t, because He’s His Father, but he can’t not. It’s his face. Even before Lucas knew about how much of a dick he is, his face told Lucas everything. Always angry, disappointed. Always bitter, like he tried to sue the universe and lost. His eyes always look pinched. Especially when he looks at Lucas.

He doesn’t know why, honestly. It’s not like he even really knows Lucas. Anything about Lucas that’s actually important. Not that Lucas would tell him anything important.

(He has a list of things he doesn’t ever plan on telling him. His being gay is the top one. He’s never heard his father talk about queer people, but he doesn’t have to to know that he’s probably a bigot. His art is another thing. He doesn’t want to listen to his father talk about how it’s not a Viable Career Option, or how it’s a Waste of Time.)

He looks at his phone after a second.

😔 boring days suck wanna call later and do hw together?

Lucas exhales, trying to sigh away his frustration.

yes ofc you said you can do math right?

He shuts the door (quietly) while he waits for Jens’s answer.

i’m a math genius call me fuckin newton

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head as he sits back on his mattress, leaning back so his head falls off the edge, upside down.

great so that means you’ll do my hw for me

Lucas bites his lip, trying to suppress the smile that appears in anticipation as Jens types.

hmmmm what’s in it for me?🤔

uhhhhh moral support

Lucas grins as you amaze me appears on his screen, followed by oh i can teach you math, which promptly makes him roll his eyes and reply with an exaggerated uuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh.

Jens replies with oop i gotta go, and then, as Lucas prepares to send the eye-rolling emoji, see you after school🙃.

Lucas sends the emoji anyway, along with you’re the worst.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzes with love you too <3 , and his lingering smile falters. He sits up, swallowing and setting the phone down.

Because the pause in him, the skipped beat of his heart, the way the words tug at him even as he reads and rereads and rereads them, even as his brain knows the irony, the playfulness, the mindlessness in Jens’s saying it, can only mean one thing, and he hates himself for it.

Lucas is fucked.

- - -

So he ignores it, of course. It can’t be happening. It can’t. He’s known Jens for a few days. There’s no reason for his stomach to flutter the way it does when he gets a text from him, or when his name lights up his computer screen on Google Meets.

“He-ey,” Jens sings when Lucas answers, and a smile flickers across Lucas’s face involuntarily.

“Hey.”

“How you doing?”

“Fine,” Lucas answers, neglecting to mention the rest of his day, which was absolutely not fine. The door slams are still ringing in his head. “You?”

“Eh.”

“Hm,” Lucas chuckles. “Hey, who's your maths teacher?”

“Clark,” Jens says, looking at Lucas with his pixelated eyes. Even glitchy and blurry, Lucas can see that he’s beautiful.

“Great,” he says, ignoring it. “Have you done homework for lesson seven?”

“I absolutely have not,” Jens chirps. “I can do it and show you how to solve the problems.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mhmm.” Jens puckers his lips, nodding and furrowing his brows. “Mhmm, mhmm. Well. I could do it and send you the answers.”

“That sounds great,” Lucas says, sarcastically sweet.

Jens snickers, reaching past his laptop, and Lucas watches as the collar of his shirt falls, a section of his skin exposed before he sits back, pulling a messy notebook, loose papers hanging out of it, and calculator with him.

“Wanna read while I work?” Jens asks, oblivious to the heat in Lucas's chest.

“Oh, yeah, I can do that.”

Lucas barely even processes the words he reads to Jens, his brain somehow paying more attention to the quiet, hushed murmurs of numbers coming from Jens.

He hears Jens mutter, “Divide by six…” and click his tongue in thought a few times just as Lucas reads, “‘...like moths against the whispering and the champagne and the stars.’”

He listens to Jens intently, even though half (or maybe just a quarter) of his mind is on the book, and even though he only catches every few words. Some words, sixty, sixteen, seventy seven, are sharp and cut right through their connection. His murmurs are nearly completely unintelligible, but Lucas listens like he’s actually trying to learn something.

It’s not until Jens says, “Lu?” softly, that Lucas realises he’s stopped reading completely, the book fallen shut in his lap with his index finger holding the page loosely, and he startles, looking directly into Jens’s eyes. His face burns up at the nickname, and at the fact that he had been so enraptured by Jens muttering maths to himself that he had forgotten completely to read.

“I— Yeah, sorry,” he says, looking away and opening the book, hoping Jens can’t see how hot his face is.

“Why’d you stop?” A smile is spread across Jens’s face. Like he knows.

“I—” Lucas stutters again. “You seemed to focussed, I didn’t wanna distract you.”

“Aw.” Jens tilts his head. “That’s sweet.” There’s a pause, and he looks down, flipping a paper that’s out of Lucases sight, before he says, “I’m almost done, I can send you pictures after so do this one.”

“Yeah,” Lucas says, trying not to let out another stammer. His face burns again. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been listening.

Jens clicks his tongue as he thinks again, and Lucas hears the clicking of his calculator and the scratch of his pencil on paper.

“Add on both sides,” he says quietly, and then, “Oh, that’s not right,” flipping his pencil over to erase it.

Lucas snickers.

“Don’t you laugh at me,” Jens says, a smile playing at his lips. “You know you can’t do better.”

“You’re not wrong.”

When Jens finally finishes the problem (he has to try again two more times; he’d skipped the problem to leave it for the end when he’d started) he texts pictures of it to Lucas, and Lucas closes the book, folding the corner of the page.

He can feel Jens watching him as he copies down the answers.

“Number four is seventy three?” he says, zooming in on the photo.

“Thirteen,” Jens says, his voice softer than Lucas expected.

“Oh, that makes more sense.” Lucas writes it. “Why the hell do your ones look like sevens?”

“I don’t know,” Jen says defensively, making a face. “It’s never been a problem before.”

“It’s weird.” He’s met with silence. “If you’re making a face at me, I can’t see it.”

Jens lets out a laugh, and Lucas grins. If sunshine made a sound, it would be Jens’s laughter.

“How do you know me so well?” Jens asks, still laughing.

Lucas giggles, snorting and shaking his head as he looks up to see Jens’s face brightening even more.

“That was so cute,” Jens says lightly, and Lucas feels like he’s on fire.

“Shut up. What’s number seven? It’s cut off in the picture.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. That’s…” Jens’s brows furrow. “Six, four… one—”

“You thought it was a seven, didn’t you?”

“Shut up. One point three two.”

“Thank you-u-u.”

Jens is quiet as Lucas copies the rest of the answers. He shakes his head at how messy Jens’s work is, shocked and honestly impressed with how his brian works, numbers and lines scattered across the page, the answers in neat, little boxes.

“Do any new drawings?” Jens asks abruptly as Lucas copies the last one.

“Huh?”

“Have you drawn anything new?”

“Uh..” Lucas finishes writing the final answer and boxing it like Jens’s. “Yes?”

“Oh?” When he looks up, Jens is resting his chin on his hands, smiling. “Tell me.”

Lucas pauses, biting his lip. He’s only done one, and it’s ripped and crumpled and shredded in the corner of his room in a plastic bin.

“I did one, but it was shit, so it’s in the trash—”

“What was it?”

“Uh, that’s not important.”

“...Okay.” He says it softly. Lucas is grateful. “Can you show me a drawing? Or like a sketch, or…”

Lucas smiles. Jens is clearly out of his element. But he’s trying.

“I might have a picture,” he says, moving the maths homework away. “Most of my sketchbooks are still in boxes.”

“You haven’t unpacked yet?” Jens asks as Lucas scrolls though his camera roll, photos of Utrecht mainly, with a few of homework and screenshots of messages from the guys scattered in there.

“No,” he says simply.

“Why?”

“Eh.” Lucas finds one of a drawing and looks at it, contemplating. It’s a sketch of Noah that he did a little after moving. He’d meant to send it to him, even considered mailing it with a little letter and some Antwerp souvenirs like a post card or something, but he never did. He sends it to Jens. “I don’t really plan on staying here that long, just until this summer.”

“Oh. Oh, woah.”

Lucas beams without wanting to, watching Jens’s head duck as he looks at his phone.

“That’s so good, Lucas.”

“Thank you,” Lucas responds, his voice small. He shifts in his seat on the mattress, fidgeting as Jens looks up at him.

“That’s so good.”

“Who is it?” Jens looks back down, moving his fingers across the screen, and Lucas can tell he’s zooming in on the photo.

“My friend from Utrecht, he’s an artist too.”

“Oh!” Jens looks up again. “Speaking of artists. I have a friend I think you’ll like.”

“You think I’ll like him because he’s an artist?”

Jens drops his phone.

“I think you’ll like him because he’s a cool guy, and you already have something in common.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You wanna meet him?” Jens asks, almost excitedly.

Lucas stares at him, tilting his head.

“Not in person,” Jens says. “Obviously.” He makes a face. “Sometimes we have, like, a group Zoom call with the guys, do you wanna join sometime?”

Lucas pauses, hoping Jens can see the despair in his face.

The guys.

“Uh— Yeah, why not?”

Jens beams.

It makes the screen glow brighter.

#hes in looooooove #:')#remember to drink water yall #and eat something #and take your meds #stretch your wrists and neck #i love you #<3 #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fic #skam nl fic #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #vds #van der stoffels #while the world ends around us

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kurt-nightcrawler · 5 years ago

Text

Fairytale

Warren Worthington III x Female Reader

Request 1: Omg I just read the I have a boyfriend and the opposites attract and I'm aksjksjeje. Idk if ur taking requests, but in case u are I need more on that mother nature reader and Warren pleaaaaseee!!! Maybe something with angst, like some conflict in their relationship, but with a happy would be greatttttt I absolutely love ur writing

Request 2: Hi love!:D idk if you’re taking requests or if you’re in the works of smth, but like, I’ve had this idea in my head about your fic of Mother Nature with what she said about the weather affecting her. Like it’s winter season or smth and the sun has not been out for days (and maybe Ororo is not around to help??) so she’s feeling weak and Warren is doing all he can so she can get better🥺 I reaally love your writing💕 💕

Warnings: swearing and angst

Word Count: 12.5k

“How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks. We should be back before December 21st.”

(Y/N) huffed, that was almost two weeks, plus the holidays were coming up. “Stay safe, okay? All I want for Christmas is you.”

Warren rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead, “I already got you a gift.”

(Y/N) thanked him and he just held her tighter.

Warren went on a mission with Raven, Alex, Kurt, Ororo, and Jean. They were going to Italy to stop some mafia mutant issue. “Which is stupid,” Scott retorted. “We live in New York. Surely the mafia isn’t only terrorizing mutants in Italy.”

(Y/N) shrugged, “Probably.”

Her mind wandered as Jubilee talked to Scott about their final for Dr. McCoy. I need to water the plants in the greenhouse. (Y/N) yawned, she felt a sudden wave of drowse come over herself. I’ve been so tired lately…

It wasn’t a mystery why (Y/N) had been so tired lately. It was because of the weather. The earlier it got dark, the less energy she had— and with it getting colder, her abilities were limited. Most of the plants in her room had gone dormant. (Y/N) was worried she would too, but it hadn’t gotten cold enough.

“I think we should go skating tomorrow,” Jubilee suggested.

“Just the four of us?” Peter asked.

“Do you see anyone else? They’re all in Italy.” Peter squinted his eyes at Jubilee as she was sarcastic. “The rink is open, it’s December, and I’m bored! I wanna pick up cute girls.”

“Isn’t ice skating like a go-to in Hallmark Christmas movies?” Scott asked.

“Why do you know that?” Jubilee asked.

“We watch those all the time on nights with the boys,” Peter explained. “They’re awful and all the same. There was one where a girl was in love with a ghost and another where a girl texted her dead mom to grieve… I’m so lucky I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

(Y/N) laughed, hallmark Christmas films were pretty cheesy and cliche.

“I mean yeah, you’re right, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go skating, or do something. Everyone is gone and we need to stay active.”

Peter and Scott both looked at Jubilee with confusion. “But we’re all in pretty good shape.”

“No, I mean (Y/N),” She whispered to the boys.

“What’s wrong with her? She looks fine.” Scott said, quickly checking her out as she was preoccupied with her phone.

“Around winter, she tends to get weaker cause it’s colder and the sun goes down earlier…”

“Yeah… We know…”

“No, you guys don’t get it. During the winter plants go into like, hibernation— and if it gets too cold and (Y/N) falls asleep she’ll go dormant. The only safe places are her room and an area set up in the lab.”

“We have to keep her awake all winter?” Peter asked curiously.

“No, we just have to make sure she only falls asleep in her bedroom and stays there. It’s the only ace place because it’s like a greenhouse sort of…”

“What happens if we don’t?...”

“She could die!”

“Who could die?” (Y/N) asked.

“Scarlett Johanson’s stunt-double. I mean have you seen the new Black Widow trailer?” Jubilee asked without missing a beat.

“Eh, I dunno. She’s a professional, plus stunt-doubles are kind of expected to get hurt… while it’s not preferable an innocent gets hurt,... they did sign up for it.”

“I never thought of it like that…” Scott said almost seeing off-handed while trying to noticeably glare at Jubilee.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I promised Catherine I’d help make gingerbread cookies.” Everyone wished (Y/N) some form of goodbye, or have fun, leaving them alone.

“(Y/N) is going to die?!” Peter almost screamed.

“No! No, no— (Y/N) is not going to die. She’s done this longer than I’ve known her. I think she was like, thirteen when these first started happening. I didn’t know (Y/N) until we were 15, but still.” Jubilee continued on, “She’ll either pass out randomly in the middle of December or January and hibernate until March or April, or she won’t go dormant and just have to spend most of the spring outside, like soaking up the sunshine or whatever. “

“Oh, okay. So this is normal. Great. (Y/N) might fucking die every winter and we just have to act like children on thin ice? Deal with it somehow?” Peter looked like he was freaking out.

“I said she’s been doing this for years, plus she hasn’t died yet. We’ll be fine.”

Scott’s gut was telling him something different, but he blamed that on his constant anxiety.

Five days after Warren left

(Y/N), Scott, Peter, and Jubilee all went ice skating. Jubilee and Peter attempted to spy on cute girls, while Scott tried to act perfect, and (Y/N) tried her best to not lean against the wall too much. It was fun, but indoor rinks are as cold as the outside ones. (Y/N) bundled up enough, but she still got chills.

Scott took everyone to some artsy coffee shop that Jean adored. He claimed they had a killer hot chocolate. Jubilee already tried it once before, being Jean’s best friend/roommate. Peter thought it was kind of watery and not that great, and (Y/N) didn’t think it was bad but…

“You overhyped it. It’s good though.” Scott pouted, and Peter laughed through Twinkie bites and hot chocolate sips. (Y/N) felt warm and fuzzy inside. Almost… sleepy…

Her mind started to drift… Warren… everything they’d do when he got back from Italy…

Their first winter holiday together… all the shitty hallmark movies we can watch with Scott and Peter… the—

“(Y/N)!”

“Huh?!” She rubbed her eyes and tried to seem awake. “What is it?”

“You were dozing off there,” Scott pointed out.

“Oh.” She scratched her head. “Sorry. Haha,” Her laugh was somewhat sarcastic. “Just don’t let me, uh… Don’t let me pass out. Wouldn’t wanna get nicknamed Sleeping Beauty.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Peter joked.

Nine days after Warren left

Peter taught everyone, or attempted to, teach everyone how to make a seven-layered cake. Jubilee and Scott kept sneaking batter, while (Y/N) was struggling to not use her powers.

“Okay, but like, I could get sugar from a plant or—“

“No!” Jubilee protested, batter on the corner of her mouth. “We— we have all these ingredients here. Why waste them?”

(Y/N) squinted her eyes, they were a bit purple, but she let it slide and grabbed sugar and other dry ingredients from the cabinets.

“If she uses too much strength she could pass out. It’s been snowing hard for the past two days, and it’s been cloudy all week.”

“Can’t she eat a protein bar or drink some coffee or something?” Peter whispered.

Jubilee shook her head, “No, she needs vitamin D. Like, from the sun. More than a normal person does.”

(Y/N) set the sugar on the counter and looked at the recipe from Peter’s mom, reading bits out loud, “We need 2 and 1⁄4 cups of sugar.” She looked at the measuring cups, trying to find the one she needed.

“Hey, Scott! We agreed no phones out,” Jubilee scolded him.

He rolled his eyes, “You sound like a teacher… I was just checking a package I ordered…”

“If you actually bought that $200 lightsaber you were telling me about,” (Y/N) joked, “I will scream.”

Peter scoffed, “Please, Jean got him that for Christmas.” His face fell soon as the words left his mouth. “Shit…”

“No, she didn’t. We had a budget and—“ Jubilee and Peter both looked at their feet, eyes wide and sheepish. “I am not worth $200.”

“You sound like Warren,” Jubilee complained, cracking eggs into a separate bowl.

“It’s true! I don’t want her to spend money on me.” He glanced at his phone again.

“She’s not going to text you. No one is allowed to bring phones on missions, because the government can like, track you and shit.” Peter reminded him.

“I know, I know… but what if something happened? What if someone died or they got stuck and stranded and—“

(Y/N) put a hand on Scott’s shoulder, “Calm down Romeo. They’re going to be fine. If something happens, Xavier will let us know.” Scott nodded, trying to believe (Y/N) was right.

Fifteen Days after Warren left

(Y/N) was getting sick and tired. Tired of her friends never leaving her alone, the panic on their faces if she so much as yawned or rubbed her eyes, she was sick of them being so nervous. More so Scott and Peter than Jubilee.

Of course, they meant well, and just wanted to make sure she didn’t fall into a coma, but she didn’t need to be doted over like a tropical plant lost in the arctic.

(Y/N) huffed as she messed with her hair in the bathroom mirror. Her leaves looked less colorful, more brown and dead, the vines around her legs were gone, and her eyes looked like she hadn’t been sleeping. She had, but it was hard, the sun went down at 5 PM, and it was cloudy and cold every day it seemed.

I just want Warren here. He’d make everything better. We could cuddle and nap together…

(Y/N)’s turned blue and red as she stopped daydreaming and ran her toothbrush underwater.

By nature, (Y/N) was not a gossip girl or a secret keeper— people saw her as a Disney princess, a few of the younger students even called her “Mother Nature”... but she had ruined her status by lying to the person she cared about most.

She didn’t tell Warren about her dormant state, about how she could sleep until possibly March. She wanted to stay awake and active all winter. She wanted to spend her time with her angel.

But he was in Italy fighting crime, and wouldn’t be back until mere days before Christmas.

She had to be awake for Christmas and New Year’s. After that, it didn’t matter.

Wait. Then she remembered Valentine’s Day.

I have to be awake for that too. And Warren’s birthday… I can’t miss those… She made herself a promise she wouldn’t go dormant this winter.

She glanced out the window as she scrubbed her teeth with the toothbrush. It was snowing again, thick heavy flakes came down almost in chunks.

Twenty Days after Warren left

(Y/N) accidentally drank out of Peter’s cup without realizing it for about thirty minutes. Why did it matter?

Peter had caffeine in his soda, and (Y/N) did not. She was planning to go to bed in her room, and wake up when the sun rose to conserve energy.

Now, she was staying up late with her friends, watching some crappy zombie movie on late-night TV.

“They could easily just move to an island. Use the old man’s boat. The zombies can’t swim!” (Y/N) argued during a commercial break.

“Yeah, but there’s never any logic in these things.” Peter drowsed.

“I guess so. It’s kind of dumb though…”

Peter shrugged and took a sip of his drink, “Yeah, but it’s like Sharknado. They make money, it doesn’t matter if it’s bad or not.”

(Y/N) didn’t retaliate, as the final commercial ended and the screen faded to black, signaling the movie was back on.

Scott couldn’t remember when he fell asleep. He rubbed his eyes and tried to see who was all around him.

Peter was passed out on the floor for some reason, Jubilee was asleep on one side of the couch… and Scott saw (Y/N), passed out with her head laying on a pillow.

“Shit! (Y/N)!” He shook her, trying to get a reaction, but nothing happened. He repeated her name trying to undo her slumber until the other two woke.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, hair tussled and eyes half-closed.

“(Y/N) fell asleep on the couch!” Scott was panicking. He had one job— one job from Jubilee, “Make sure she only falls asleep in her bedroom or else she won’t wake up until March.”

“Scott! Stop it!” Jubilee pulled him away from (Y/N)’s sleeping figure. “You could kill her!”

“What—” He turned to Jubilee, “What do we do then?”

“Peter, get Professor McCoy up here.”

“But it’s 4 AM…” Jubilee gave him a deadly glare and he sped off.

Scott was ordered to sit and be quiet while Peter got McCoy.

“She fell asleep. She drank some of my soda earlier, causing her to not be tired. We thought we could get her sleepy by watching a movie, but we all fell asleep before she did…” Peter was giving Hank a 30-second recap, with 3000 words.

“Peter, everything’s going to be fine.” Hank carefully scooped (Y/N) up in his arms, bridal style. He looked her over up close. Her skin looked pale, the leaves and flowers in her hair were gone, all that was left were dried twigs, and the vines usually wrapped around her legs were concealed by sweatpants, so he couldn’t take note on them. “I’m taking her to the medical bay. Everyone go to sleep, you can come back in the morning…” Hank glanced at the time, “You can come back later.”

The three mutants walked to their rooms quietly. Jubilee made a stop at a bathroom to brush her teeth, while Peter and Scott went straight to their dorm.

Peter used his speed to get changed and hop in bed. “I’ll leave the light on while you get changed.” Scott didn’t answer, he didn’t move. “Scott?”

“What if she dies?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Jubilee said she’s been doing this for years, (Y/N)‘s not gonna die.” Scott still didn’t move, causing Peter to sit up and face his roommate better. “Everything will be okay. McCoy knows what to do, and this is no different than when bears go hibernate for the winter or when geese fly south. She’ll be fine.”

“We don’t know that. If something interrupts her she could die—“

“She won’t.” Peter knew he knew, what Scott was thinking. Scott did what anyone would have done. Tried to jostle her awake, he didn’t know what else to do.

“Do you know what it’s like?...”

Peter hadn’t the slightest idea what Scott was referencing, he kept his mouth shut, trying to figure it out.

“To have almost killed someone? Your parents arguing with theirs, lawsuits being threatened, your life could end before theirs and the doctors think they’re on borrowed time… How you know you deserve to be punished, and instead you’re just sent away, to be with more family and start new. You try to be better than you ever were, and people— they believe it. You deserve everything you’ve worked for… and then you go and fuck up! It’s one thing to have your mutation surface and have chunks of ceiling and a bathroom door put a school bully in a coma— but to hurt someone like (Y/N)?...” Scott’s voice trembled. His cheeks were covered in his tears. “If anything happens it’s going to be my fault. Warren’s going to blame me because everyone talks me up about how responsible I am and all these leadership qualities I have, that I actually don’t. Warren is going to kill me if she doesn’t wake up—“ He choked out a sob.

Peter was quick to wrap the boy in his arms. “Hey, hey… shh… shh… You didn’t hurt her. She’s going to be fine. Hank picked her up and carried her to his lab and she did fine. You shaking her didn’t do anything.” Scott continued weeping.

“How about you take a shower, and then we can go see her, okay?” Peter talked slower than ever before and with softness, enough to be gentle, but not so much you’d think Scott was a child.

He nodded, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“Okay, come on buddy…”

Hank had carefully dressed her in a hospital gown and hooked her up to various equipment. Everything seemed normal for her coma-like state. He didn’t wake her up carrying her downstairs.

Hank sat down in a chair next to her. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no idea what to do.

This had happened before, but Hank just kept her in his lab and he wouldn’t do anything until she woke up. Sometimes students would visit to see how she was doing… Most of the time they’d just whisper and watch her for a few minutes before leaving, some made jokes about how she needed Prince Charming to kiss and wake her up.

Hank hesitated allowing Charles tell the team what happened. They wouldn’t be back for another week, and he didn’t want to cause a distraction for them.

“Hey Doc,” Peter waved. Scott was standing next to him.

Hank quickly put his glasses back on and stood up. “What are you doing awake? You should be asleep.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured we could come by, see how (Y/N)’s doing.”

“Yeah— she’s doing fine. Vitals are steady and her heartbeat is regular. All we have to do is wait.” Hank faked some optimism. He knew why they were there, and she was fine— except, Hank had no idea when she’d awake.

“Did you tell Xavier what happened?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, he knows. He said there’s nothing we can do until she wakes up. We have the option to wake her and keep her in the green room, but that’s easier said than done…” Scott looked pale. Hank cursed to himself for freaking the kid out. “Trust me, this is the best option for her.” Scott nodded.

“Yeah… “ Peter tried to distract him. “Why don’t we eat some leftover cake?”

“I’m not hungry Pete,” Scott answered.

“Well I am, and you’re not going to mope around down here. It’ll like, give (Y/N) a bad vibe. Come on.” Scott sighed and followed Peter out of the med bay.

Twenty four days after Warren left

Warren was exhausted, Everyone was. The mission went smoothly, or smoothly as it could, considering the number of minor injuries everyone bore.

“We’ve got a few more hours until we’re home,” Alex announced, checking in on the younger X-Men.

Ororo, Jean, and Kurt were playing go fish. Warren was watching, contributing nothing to the game but sarcastic comments and jokingly-judgemental looks.

“Great, thanks,” They replied.

Alex nodded and walked back to his seat in the cockpit. He pulled something small and rectangular out of his pocket. Warren carefully watched from the corner of his eye.

Is that a cell phone?

Cell phones weren’t allowed on missions. They were distractions, not to mention out of rage cellular fees were expensive— plus with modern technology comes tracking. Having something as minor as a cellphone on a mission could jeopardize the whole operation simply because someone wanted to use google maps and see where the nearest Starbucks was.

“Alex?”

“Yeah?” He stuck the object in his pocket.

“What is that?” Warren kept his down, as to not alert the others.

“What?”

“The thing in your pocket. What is it?”

“Warren—“

Warren was pissed. “It’s a cellphone isn’t it?”

“It’s a burner phone. In case of an emergency—“

“Why’d you take it out?”

“Hank texted me.”

“Oh, great.” Warren spat, “You bring a phone on missions in case you miss your little boyfriend.”

“Warren—“

“No!” He spoke out. At this point, everyone was watching. “You don’t get to break the rules and endanger the mission!”

“Warren, calm down.”

“You can’t tell me—“

“Someone at the mansion got hurt, bird brain. That’s why Alex’s using the burner to text Hank.” Raven rolled her eyes. Dramatic much?

“What?”

No one knew this, not even Jean. They all tuned into the conversation.

“Who did?”

“What happened?”

“Everything’s fine.”Alex lied.

“No, it’s not. You wouldn’t be texting Hank if it was.”

Jean discreetly put two fingers to her temple, trying to figure out who got hurt. Raven saw her and glared, mentally telling her to stop.

“Sorry.”

“Everyone settle down. We have a few hours left until we’re back in Westchester. Just chill out until then.”

Warren rolled his eyes and sat by himself, thinking Raven’s little distraction speech was stupid.

He couldn’t help it— acting all childish— he missed (Y/N) and he really hated having to share a bed with Kurt on missions. Kurt’s tail got all tangled and Warren’s wings were cramped.

It was different from when he’d cuddle with (Y/N). He’d wrap his wings around her, and she’d grow flowers in her sleep around them. It was soothing… He’d wake up refreshed, and looking at his wonderful girlfriend. Kurt was… a major downgrade… he was a decent roommate, but he couldn’t stand him as a bedmate.

Warren yawned, making a note to sleep for ten years and hold (Y/N) while he did it, once he got back home.

The basketball court came into view, and the ground caved in, letting Raven land the Jet in its hangar. Alex announced they were back and free to get off the ship. The rest of the team hastily grabbed their bags and ran out of the X-Jet.

Outside waiting for them was Jubilee, Peter, and Scott. Hank wasn’t there.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Warren teased Alex.

He didn’t respond.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Jean mocked Warren.

Warren did a double-take as Peter and Jubilee spoke to Raven and Ororo. (Y/N) wasn’t there.

“Hey, guys.” The three that stayed behind looked up with guilty expressions on their face as soon as they looked at Warren.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked.

No answer.

Warren asked again, but more concerned, “Guys, where’s (Y/N)?”

“She’s not dead—“ Jubilee hit Peter and scolded him.

“What does that mean?”

The group exchanged nervous eye contact. They weren’t sure how to explain it, but if they didn’t Warren was probably going to attempt murder.

“She’s in what Hank calls a ‘dormant state’. Basically hibernation—“ Warren’s face visibly paled. “Except waking her up is way more complicated…”

“So she’s in a coma?...” He asked.

“Yeah, basically…” Jubilee admitted.

“How did this happen?”

“(Y/N)’s mutation, I thought she told you…”

“Told me what?” Jubilee didn’t answer him. “What, Jubilee?”

Alex put his hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Maybe Hank should explain it…”

“So she won’t wake up until March?”

“April at the latest,” Hank answered.

“And you let this happen?” He turned to Jubilee, Scott, and Peter. They were terrified of what Warren might do.

“No, no, they didn’t,” Hank defended them. “Her body just does this. It’s no different than that time of month…”

“A period isn’t four months long,” Warren mumbled.

“Let’s give him a moment alone with her.” Hank ushered everyone out, shutting the door behind him.

Warren sank in the chair next to (Y/N)’s body. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fuck,” He mumbled. “Fuck, fuck,” Tears welled in his eyes. “Fuck!” He screamed. He put his fist up to his mouth to muffle his sobs.

“How could… Why didn’t she tell me?” Warren looked at (Y/N)’s figure. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Warren felt his heart breaking. She looked so… so dead.

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t dead but she wouldn’t wake until March.

It was December.

“Hank said… he said, we could wake you up, but there’s a chance you’ll die. And I’d rather have you like this than dead…” He turned away and mouthed cursed under his breath.

Warren didn’t know what to do. Sure, he wasn’t necessarily one of those clingy boyfriends, whose only life purpose is to serve his girlfriend… but he really liked her.

He wanted to spend more time with her than he ever could. She understood when he had nightmares or needed space. They never fought— their biggest disagreement was on a stupid homework problem.

She made earrings out of some of his metal feathers, he learned how to take care of all kinds of plants. She showed him how to be compassionate and kind, he showed her how to be assertive and throw a decent punch.

Peter teased him all the time, saying he was “in loooove,” dragged out o and everything. He’d always tell him to shut up or piss off.

Because maybe he was in love with her.

“But I’m her first boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be her first love.”

“That means I’ll hurt her…” Warren’s voice cracked. “I don’t wanna hurt her…”

He didn’t know she’d hurt him.

Warren wasn’t allowed to sit at (Y/N)’s side all day, or even all week. He had work to make up for when he was in Italy— homework, mid-terms, laundry, post-mission exam— not to mention Christmas was in five days.

He tried to keep himself busy in the first two days, and he overachieved everything he had to do. Which inevitably, left him with nothing to do.

“God, you look miserable,” Peter commented when Warren made his way into the kitchen, bags under his eyes, messy bed-head hair, sweatpants hung low, and a wrinkly t-shirt.

“I stayed up, deep cleaning my closet. I’ve got some stuff I’m gonna donate.”

“That’s nice.” Jean curtly commented.

Nobody knew what to say. They weren’t sure what would trigger Warren.

“We were all gonna see Knives Out,” Scott said. “A day off for everyone, chance to get last-minute gifts…”

“Not interested.” Warren poured himself a bowl of cornflakes.

“Come on,” Jubilee almost begged. “You haven’t left the mansion at all in the past few days.”

“I have stuff to do.” He poured milk into his bowl.

“Warren, you deep cleaned your closet at midnight. You have nothing to do and this will keep you occupied for a while.” Jubilee pointed out.

He was tired, “I don’t want to leave the mansion. What if something happens—“

“(Y/N)’s going to be fine.”

Warren held his spoon tightly in his fist. “That’s what I thought before I went to Italy— Look at her now! She’s in a coma.”

“She’ll wake up in the spring,” Kurt offered up to calm Warren down.

“This could have been prevented. I should have been here—“ Warren felt himself breakdown. He started crying, and no one knew what to do. Ororo got up from her seat and hugged him. He sobbed into her shoulder.

Ororo gave him words of comfort, “It’s okay, this is normal for her. Distance will do you good. Everything’s going to be okay… You should get out, get fresh air.”

Warren nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “Uh-huh.”

“Come see the movie with us,” She suggested.

“Okay, yeah… I’ll— I’ll go get ready.” He put his bowl in the sink and went out of the kitchen.

“Holy shit.” Peter’s eyes were wide with shock. “He’s a mess!”

Jubilee swatted him with her hand, “Hush! He’s clearly upset… His girlfriend’s in hibernation until March.”

“Yeah, but like, he just started crying,” Peter stated. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Warren cry before… He just looked so broken, like, holy shit. I don’t think I was that upset when I got cheated on by my girlfriend, junior year on prom night…” The worst part is, we could have prevented this.”

“I think I’m gonna puke,” Scott mumbled.

“Hey!” Ororo chasted the two boys. “I don’t care what happened while we were gone, but you’re both acting pathetic. This is no one’s fault! Get your heads out of your asses and be there for Warren.”

“We should wake her up…” Everyone looked at Scott like he was crazy.

“And risk killing her?” Ororo asked.

“Yeah, no,” Peter answered. “Romeo may follow suit.”

Warren didn’t want to go outside, but he needed to keep busy, or else he’d start crying again.

He was a mess— he knew Kurt was tired of him staying up all night, doing anything and everything to keep busy… but when he closed his eyes he was face to face with nightmares— (Y/N)’s practically lifeless body lying in the hospital bed, her never waking up, or if she did she’d have amnesia and not remember anyone.

Warren couldn’t sleep, but staying up all night would eventually take its toll on him, or he’d run out of things to do.

Warren got changed and quickly ran downstairs to the medical bay. He wanted to check on (Y/N) before he left.

“How is she?”

“Same as she has been for the past few days,” Hank answered. “Everything’s normal, and she’s doing fine— great actually.”

Warren nodded, “Um, I just wanted to see how she was doing. I’m going out with the other X-Men… we’re seeing Knives Out… Ororo said it’d be a good idea for me to get out of the mansion.”

Hank blinked and then frowned in thought. “Yeah, she’s right. However, you seem to be doing really well, considering the situation. You haven’t spent all your time down here, but you do visit. You haven’t acted out with a huge wave of impulse emotions, but getting out for a little bit would be great for you.”

Warren bit his tongue, holding back from telling Hank the truth about how he was doing. “Yeah… I’ll um, see you later.”

Warren zoned out in the middle of the movie for a few minutes and had to ask Kurt what happened.

“Police chased them down.”

“Ah, okay.” Warren nodded. He glanced at his other friends. Scott had an arm around Jean, and they were cuddling, practically on top of each other, in the big recliners. Jubilee bought sour patch kids and was sharing the bag with Ororo. Peter and Kurt were really engrossed in the movie, and Warren was just kind of there…

He was lonely— The movie was good, and he was enjoying it— but Warren as a whole was lonely.

He put up the hard “I don’t need anybody,” exterior to protect himself from hurt. His poor relationship with his parents caused him to be cautious and made it hard for him to develop a steady healthy relationship with any authority figures in his life. His cage fighting days taught him, he was alone, and nobody was ever going to love him, and he’d have to fight to get anywhere in life.

Obviously, that proved to be false— he found confinement in Alex, (and sometimes Hank), as the older brother he never had. The community in the mansion proved he didn’t have to be so alone, and (Y/N) made him realize love is not some made-up fantasy, concocted in Disney’s headquarters.

(Y/N) felt like his best friend on most occasions, and while he had all his other friends, her being gone made him feel so empty inside.

On Christmas Eve he moped around in Scott and Peter’s room, one earbud in listening to sad music.

Scott wasn’t even there— he was doing God knows what with Jean, and Peter was playing Pac-Man.

“You can hang out with me tomorrow if you want. I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“I’m good.” Warren knew Peter would probably run home and mess around with his sisters and mom, or awkwardly hang around the mansion, trying to find Erik and tell him about their relationship.

“Dude,” He awkwardly chuckled. “Okay, look— um, I know, nothing I say can fix the situation, but if you want to talk I’m here.”

Warren paused his music. “What was the last thing she said?”

Peter was awestruck, “She’s not dead!”

“I know—“

“She’s in a coma that she’s going to wake up from! She didn’t die.”

“I know that! I just want to know what she said before she went into the coma…”

Peter felt guilty for jumping to conclusions. Warren seemed so defeated, like a kicked puppy. “We were watching a crappy zombie movie on tv… and it was like, really bad, and we were mostly complaining about how bad it was. The last thing I remember was she said something about how the prosthetics sucked and she could have done it better with some mint leaves and slime.”

The corner of Warren’s lip rose up slightly. Typical (Y/N), but she was probably right.

“Wanna play Pac-Man with me?”

Warren sat up, “Sure.”

“He just started crying, like— I’ve never seen anyone so upset, and I thought you were dead at one point!” Scott was frazzled in Hank’s lab with Alex, Jubilee, Jean, Ororo, and Kurt.

“He seemed fine when he came down to visit her the other day.” Scott gave Hank a disbelieving look. “Well if he’s crying over little things, obviously he’s extremely stressed out and I’m not going to push him.”

Scott glanced in the direction of (Y/N)’s area in the lab, “Maybe we should wake her up.”

“Are you crazy?!” Jubilee asked. “She could die from that—“

“She probably won’t though… (Y/N) being unconscious has made Warren, everyone on edge.”

“You want an easy way out of this,” Jubilee raised her voice as she kept speaking, “If you really cared about how Warren was, you’d be trying to comfort him best you can despite your half-assed friendship!”

“It’s our fault she’s like this, Jubes! We were supposed to make sure she didn’t fall asleep anywhere besides her room, and we couldn’t do it.”

“Scott, she was getting weaker every day, this would have happened no matter what—“

His voice got louder, yet he was practically shaking, “No, we had the most simple task in the world! And we couldn’t do it! We’re the X-Men and we couldn’t even keep a girl from falling asleep!”

Jean hugged Scott, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault. She does this every year— and it’s not like you ignored her.”

“What if it was you instead? I’d be just like Warren…”

“Don’t say that—” She kissed the top of his head. “You’d be fine.”

“I think we should discuss this with Warren and the Professor before we do anything, drastic.” Hank’s final words were clearly aimed at Scott.

“We can wake her up…”

Everyone was still in the lab, but this time Warren and Professor Xavier were present. Warren didn’t move, he was focused on what Hank was telling him and what it actually meant.

“But… she could die if not done correctly. Waking up an animal early out of hibernation could kill it, but getting a plant out of its dormant season would just weaken it, if done too quickly though, it could kill the plant.”

“Hank,” Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I thought we agreed, when (Y/N) goes dormant, we do not disturb her. We agreed with her parents several years ago.”

“Yeah, but that was when she was a kid. She’s older now, and everyone’s distraught. Her boyfriend—“

“Oh, please,” Charles scoffed. “If I got on my knees and tried to align the stars every time Erik got hurt, there wouldn’t even be a school.”

“Cut the crap. You and Erik fight and make up like some divorced couple in a soap opera. When Erik gets hurt, you’re always the first to know.”

Xavier didn’t say anything out loud, he just glared.

“Um, personally, uh, sorry,” Warren awkwardly cut in. “I think if (Y/N) might die if we wake her up, then it’s not worth it. And if her parents agreed, letting her sleep is the best thing, then it probably is.”

Warren didn’t even want to think about her folks. Could you imagine? Their daughter dies because some dumb goth boy couldn’t handle her taking a three-month-long nap without him. Yeah, that’d impress them.

Charles clapped his hands together, “Well, there! It’s settled then. (Y/N) is fine as she is. I know this is upsetting for her to not be present around the holidays, but we can all assume she would want us to have fun and be kind to others, showing compassion and always helping those in need.”

Warren couldn’t sleep. He was restless in bed— too hot, then too cold, he’d have the beginnings of a nightmare or no dream at all— he was sure Kurt would have kicked him out by now if he hadn’t made the decision to sleep in Peter and Scott’s room for the night.

His tossing and turning made him have to pee. He got up and went over to the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror as he dried his hands he sighed. Warren looked so tired, but he didn’t know what to do.

For the first time since Germany, he truly felt alone.

He grabbed the two gifts stored under his bed and he quietly walked down the halls.

None of the doors were locked, it was almost too easy for him to get into Hank’s lab.

He flicked on the light switch, even though he didn’t need to. Her sleeping figure made his heart almost burst out of his chest. Warren felt so awkward standing there.

He set the gifts down on a chair and walked over to (Y/N).

“Hi…” No response. “Um, I don’t know if you can hear me… but like, Jubilee and Kurt watch all those soaps and they always have characters talking to people in comas so I figured, maybe, just maybe, you could hear something… anyway, um… I miss you. I really miss you and I wish you’d said something about all this…” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been trying to keep myself busy, with homework and chores and training. It’s been driving Kurt crazy that I’m up all the time, but I can’t sleep most nights…”

He paused for a moment, for the thought of, Am I crazy? Flashed through his brain.

“I got you that fancy water filtered you wanted for Christmas… along with some mollisol soil in a jar…” He huffed in amusement while glancing at the gifts. “Peter made fun of me. He said, “No girl wants a jar of dirt for Christmas.” But I know you’d be happy with it— trying to divide it equally among every plant in your room, your eyes lighting up when you see improvements in them…” Warren looked at (Y/N) and smiled sadly.

“We haven’t even been dating for a whole year, but it feels like it’s been forever…” His eyes watered and his voice faltered, “And that’s love… Isn’t it?... Everyone tells me something different, but— I think I love you. No— I know I love you. I love you and, and, I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do while you’re here. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and see everyone all happy like nothing’s wrong— or Scott kissing Jean when he thinks no one’s looking if I can’t put my arm around you and pull you closer and give him a look that states we’re a cuter couple…” Warren almost laughed at himself. His dumb competition with Scott.

“I know you’d want me to pretend like nothing’s wrong because it isn’t— but it is… I don’t know what to do…”

Kurt knocked on the door of his room the next morning. “Warren! Merry Christmas!” No response.

“I need to brush my teeth.” Still no answer.

Kurt opened the door himself, “Warren?” The room was empty. “Where are you?”

“Hey, Kurt,” Scott peaked in, still in pajamas. “Everything alright?”

“Warren’s gone.”

“He’s probably downstairs already. Peter and Jubilee are, I bet he’s with them.”

“Oh. You’re probably right.” Scott bid him goodbye and went to Jean’s room. Kurt still couldn’t get the feeling that Scott was wrong out of his system.

Hank and Alex were headed down to the lab, giggling and acting like kids sneaking around.

“Alex,” Hank breathed in between laughs, “I just wanna check on (Y/N).”

“I know,” He managed between the kisses he left all over Hank’s neck.

“Give me five minutes. Then we can join the others.”

Alex frowned as Hank opened the door. “I want to be alone with you.”

“Wasn’t this morning enough?” Hank joked.

Alex rolled his eyes and hugged Hank from behind.

Hank smiles and walked into the med Bay Area, where (Y/N) was put.

He was shocked, to say the least. Alex too.

“Did he wake her?” Alex whispered.

“I don’t think so. Her heart rate hasn’t changed.”

Alex gently shook Warren’s shoulder, “Hey, kid, time to get up.”

He groaned and slowly opened his eyes, squinting to adjust to the light. “Mmmmhmmmggg…”

“Merry Christmas.” Hank teased as he looked over (Y/N)’s vitals.

“Shit.” Warren rubbed his eyes, “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“When did you come down here? I went upstairs at around eleven.” Hank commented.

“You got into our room at 11:37 PM.” Alex corrected him.

“Uhh, I don’t remember…” Warren was too tired to think. He wanted to get something to eat and go back to bed. He didn’t want to see everyone messing around the tree Charles got the younger students to set up. He wanted to go back to sleep right in bed with (Y/N), but he knew Hank wouldn’t let him.

“Everyone’s upstairs,” Hank said.

“I know,” Warren said back.

Alex was preoccupied with his phone. Scott kept texting him where he was— for being the younger brother, he acted like an older one.

“Look, uh, I don’t want to overstep anything—” Hank said somewhat quietly to Warren. “I know we’re not that close, but—“

Warren shot him down, “I don’t need to talk to anyone. But thanks for the offer, Hank.”

Hank pushes his glasses up his nose, “No, it’s not that… When Alex was presumed dead, and we found his body and he was in a coma… I was an emotional wreck. I spent all my time down here, worried he’d wake up any second, or never wake up, or wake up and not remember who I am… We weren’t even dating at the time. I was just so heartbroken because I wasted literal decades avoiding him and my feelings and— sorry. Sorry. I got off track… the point is, I get it. I’m not going to judge you for coming down at night to sleep with her.”

“Just, just don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

Hank nodded understandingly.

“Whatcha guys talking about?” Alex got up and wrapped an arm around Hank.

“How much I love you,” Hank stated matter of factly.

Alex chuckled and kissed Hank’s cheek. “Don’t bother him with that. I’m sure Warren doesn’t want to hear you talk about our relationship.”

“I don’t care,” Warren told him.

“Still— go upstairs. Scott and Kurt think you got kidnapped or something.”

“Alright, alright,” Warren had to laugh, “I will.”

“We’ll meet you up there.”

Neither of the older men spoke until the door shut.

“He loves her.”

“Hmm?” Alex looked at Hank curiously.

“Warren, he loves (Y/N).” Alex hummed in agreement.

“They’re good for each other.”

Warren walked into the common room while chaos was in full motion.

Kurt was teleporting from place to place in the room, Ororo was focusing on making it snow outside, surprisingly, Peter was asleep on the couch, and Jean and Scott were cuddled under a blanket by the fireplace, obviously feeling each other up.

“Warren!” Kurt jumped down and landed at his feet. “Where have you been?”

He shrugged, “Workout.”

“Okay…” Kurt wasn’t convinced, but

“Hey, Warren! I made these brownies, they’re really good—“ She handed him one. “Here!”

“Uh, thanks.” He took a bite out of it. Gooey. Rich chocolate flavor. Yet, it also crumbled. Not half bad.

Warren smiled and nodded, telling Jubilee it was delicious. She was thrilled.

After a round of greetings to everyone, Warren sat on the couch next to Peter. “There’s a present for you…” He murmured, half asleep.

Warren furrowed his brows and looked at the tree. There was one gift left. The wrapping paper was black, with two silver bows on it. Warren smiled sadly at it, as he held it in his arms.

“Aww… It’s you!” Peter teased. Warren laughed a little, before opening it.

It was a box. Obviously, not empty. Warren removed the lid and looked through it. Inside was a disposable camera, an empty photo book, and a letter. He grabbed the letter first and read it.

Warren,

If you’re reading this, I’m either dormant or will be soon. I didn’t tell you anything about it because I’m scared. I’m scared you’d want to break up because I’m not conscious for part of the year. To most people, I’m sure it’d be a major turn off. But as Jubilee sometimes puts it, you’re ‘a little too attached’ to me to break up with me over a long nap. :) Or at least I hope so.

Anyway, I don’t want you moping over me the whole time, because you’ll just be sad and closed off and lose a lot of progress in your mental health. And I worry about you. I’ll be worrying about you quite a bit while I’m hibernating.

Uh, I can also hear everything you say to me. In case you wanna chat. I can’t say anything back, but it’s nice to listen.

I got you the camera and photobook to give you something to do. When I wake up you can catch me up on everything I missed. Take some pictures, save some memes for me, make a playlist of songs you think I’d like, movies I need to watch— Jubilee did it my first year here, and I liked it. I didn’t feel like I was wasting my time sleeping… I sometimes feel that way— I could do schoolwork, or spend time with my plants that still trudge through winter, or hang out with my friends… don’t feel sad, this is a normal bodily function… for me… You’re gonna think it sucks, which is kind of does, but I’ll try to make up for lost time… I love you…

(Y/N)

Warren couldn’t read the last few words, they’d been scratched out. He rubbed his eye, trying not to cry.

“What’d you get?” Peter asked.

“Uh, camera… So (Y/N)’s got photos for when she wakes up…”

“Aww…” Peter cooed. “That’s so cute— Hey guys! Let’s get a group photo!”

“Peter, I don’t— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“Too bad!” Peter snatched the camera from Warren’s hands and started motioning and yelling at people to get in the frame. “I used to use these all the time as a kid— these little disposable cameras. I loved them!” Peter pressed the button, and a light flashed for a moment. He turned the dial on it and then handed it back to Warren. “You know how to use these, right?”

“Uh…”

“Great! You’ve totally got this.”

Peter was gone in a flash, leaving Warren alone.

He huffed, what was he really going to do with a camera? He didn’t want to bring his girlfriend up to speed with pop culture and all the drama she missed. He wanted to live through it all with her.

But he couldn’t…

Warren went back downstairs to the lab. Nobody stopped him from leaving or even asked where he was going. It was like he had no value in the group without (Y/N), just someone they tolerated, if that even.

He wanted to scream, knowing she could hear, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t find his voice… no words came out… just tears…

He fell down to the floor and cried. That’s all he could do.

You’re so weak! Pathetic! You can’t spend a moment away from her and you cry like a fucking baby! You don’t deserve her…

His sobs were the only things you could hear in the room.

New Year’s came and gone. The X-Men threw a party. Warren took a photo since he knew (Y/N) would have wanted to be there.

He didn’t want to be there. Soon as he took his photo he wanted to leave. He never liked parties, not as a kid, not in Berlin, and not when he came to the mansion— until he started dating (Y/N).

She got invited to several parties. Some were just dorm get-togethers with different groups of kids, others were house parties from the kids at the public school down the road, some were like this… real parties. She always wanted Warren with her when she went, and he never said no. He didn’t always enjoy them, but he didn’t mind. If (Y/N) had a good time, so did he.

But here Warren was, moping in the corner of Xavier’s ballroom.

He didn’t leave his room on Valentine’s day, despite still having classes. He trained for three hours a day, not including the group workouts and training required for all members of the X-Men.

He volunteered to go on more missions. He didn’t want to be stuck in the mansion for more than two days at a time. No one objected, he was a valuable member of the team, and the more experience the better he would get.

He was to go to London for three weeks with Ororo, Hank, Jean, and Scott.

Jean and Scott were excited because this just meant they’d somehow end up in a hotel room alone together at night, while everyone else was sleeping.

Warren was not too thrilled, as he was jealous. No need to sugarcoat it. Warren was jealous that Scott got Jean all 365 days of the year, that he never had to be away from her for more than a week, that they could flaunt their relationship and how happy they were together.

It made his stomach churn, but there was nothing he could do.

“I’m going to London for a few days… If I meet Harry Styles I’ll tell him you’re a fan…” (Y/N) laid in bed, lifeless. Warren tucked his hair behind his ears, making a note to get a haircut soon. “I’m going with Scott, Jean, and Ororo…”

He hated this. He hated talking to her, knowing she could hear him but not say anything back. It was different the few days before Christmas, but now it was all just a mess.

“Bye.” He threw his duffle bag over his shoulder and walked out.

One week.

One week with no cell phones, no homework, nothing. Sure, Warren would probably have to punch a few bad guys, but other than that he just wanted to sleep. He didn’t really care for much anymore. He tried his best to stay engaged and involved, keep himself busy, but it was extremely challenging.

A five-hour flight, with nothing to do.

“You guys excited?” Hank asked.

“Yeah!”

“Definitely.”

“I’m hoping I can use some new moves Mystquie’s been teaching me.”

“Mhmm…” Warren mumbled.

Hank glanced at him. He looked depressing.

“We’re in London for a week, I bet we’ll have some time to do sightseeing or go out.”

“Ooo!” Jean nudged Scott. “That’ll be fun, right babe?”

He nodded, “Oh yeah.”

Warren brought Peter’s walkman with him, and put in his earbuds and closed his eyes, assumingly taking a nap.

Once they arrived and checked into their rooms, Warren was still tired. He wanted to take another nap.

“So, I think we should go out tonight—” Hank handed everyone their room keys, “—You guys have been working really hard, and not much praise is given by Alex or Raven, or Erik when he occasionally shows up… but we’re proud of you.”

“Aww…” “Thanks, Hank…”

Warren just offered a smile.

“We can unpack and get changed if you guys want, we can go out and get some dinner?”

Everyone thought Hank’s plan was good, and they separated into their rooms.

“You doing okay?” Scott asked while unpacking his bag.

“Yeah… Why?”

“You didn’t say anything the whole ride here.”

“I took a nap,” Warren unzipped his bag.

“Oh.”

“I’m not going to unexpectedly burst into tears.” Warren snapped.

“I didn’t say you were—”

“Everyone thinks I am, I’m not stupid. I know you think I’m emotionally unstable and Hank’s been acting all nice on this mission because of it.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

Scott sat down on his bed, “Are you emotionally unstable?”

Warren glared at him, “I’ve been working my ass off for this mission. I’ve trained longer and harder than anybody else. Do I look unstable to you?”

“No! I just thought—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna shower and get dressed for dinner.” He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Hank had asked the woman at the front desk a good place to eat. She recommended some local place down the road. He rounded up the kids, despite there only being four of them.

“A night out will do us good.”

“You’ve been saying that,” Warren mumbled.

“You didn’t have to come you know,” Ororo stated.

“I have nothing better to do with my time.”

Ororo kept her mouth shut, knowing she could have said something back, but knowing Warren, it was better not to.

The restaurant was pretty crowded, despite it being the middle of the week, but the group still managed to get a table.

Their server was friendly. They got drinks. They ordered their food.

“You okay, Warren?” Hank noticed he hardly touched his food.

“Mhmm… Just not that hungry. I’ll probably get a box.”

“Oh, okay,” Hank nodded, a little unsure.

They left the restaurant and went back to the hotel. Warren took his shirt off and laid on his bed.

“I’m gonna hang out with Jean… You gonna be okay?”

Warren let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, yeah. Go have fun, Cyclops… I’m going to bed.”

Warren couldn’t sleep. He didn’t really want to. He turned on the tv, trying to find something to watch.

Someone knocked on the door while he was in the middle of some cooking show. Warren got up and opened his door. “Hey, Ro.”

“Hey, Jean kicked me out. Wanna go for a swim in the pool?”

“Sure.”

He quickly got changed and followed Ororo downstairs.

The got into the elevator and were quiet at first.

“I think they have a hot tub.”

“Cool.”

Ororo glanced at Warren and sighed. “I’m here for you if you want to talk.”

He nodded, “I know.”

“For real. You’re allowed to talk about your feelings.”

“I don’t want to.”

Ororo sighed, “Warren…”

He looked back at her. “I want this all to be over.”

“(Y/N)—”

“It’s not fair! Everyone in my life has left me or used me somehow— and I know she’s different, but it’s not fair! I was so happy with her and—”

The elevator stopped. It wasn’t their floor. The doors opened the reveal a young woman. She had a familiar glow to her and leaves in her hair.

Warren looked at her, feeling lightheaded at seeing her.

“(Y/N)?”

Warren woke up in his hotel bed. He wasn’t sure how he got there. He didn’t even remember going to the pool with Ororo. All he could remember was her.

(Y/N).

He looked over to his left and saw Scott peacefully asleep in his bed, sleep mask on and everything. The TV was off, and so were all the lights. Warren couldn’t go back to bed, it wasn’t an option.

He quietly got out of bed and slipped on his shoes, slowly opening the door, as to not wake Scott.

He went out to the halls. He had no plan, no idea where he was going, but he needed to get out.

He walked around, lost in the halls late at night. He wasn’t tired, but he was upset. He didn’t want to keep crying, he didn’t want to be so dependent on (Y/N), but without her—

The sound of thunder interrupted his thoughts. He looked outside and saw it was raining. It reminded him of (Y/N)— without her, all it did was rain and snow.

Hank said they were looking for someone. Someone Xaiver wanted to bring back to the mansion. This type of mission was more stealth and would require little physical fighting.

Hank got told from an anonymous source she’d be at some socialite gathering.

“Scott, Jean, you’re going to pretend to be some young, rich, American couple. Get in there, find our target, and get her alone. Convince her to come back with us if that doesn’t work let us know on the comms.”

“What does she look like?”

“Her name is Betsy Braddock—” Hank pulled up a file with all her information on his tablet.

“What does Xavier want with her?” Warren asked, anger rising in his tone.

Betsy… She left him to die in Egypt. She got him wrapped up in the Apocalypse cult nonsense. He didn’t want to see her again, he didn’t want to see her ever.

“She knows something about the attacks in Italy we dealt with around Christmas, plus she’s somewhat telepathic… I know your past with her is messy, but—”

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” Everyone looked at Warren, surprised at his statement.

“Alright. You guys know what to do— Jean, Scott, get dressed and ready for the party. I’ll get you an uber— Ororo, Warren, You guys are going to a hideout location not far from the location of the party, in case backup is needed. I’m going to stay and operate things here.

The first few hours of the mission went as expected. Jean and Scott made small talk with people, trying to find Betsy.

Warren didn’t want to see her, or more, he didn’t want her to see him in his current emotional state. But it didn’t matter what he wanted. He argued and insisted on joining this mission, and now he could see why Xavier was hesitant to let him go.

“I see her,” Jean said. “She’s not with anyone.”

Jean’s earpiece was quiet after that.

Warren and Ororo sat there for what felt like forever. Jean and Scott talked occasionally, but it was never directly to them.

The young couple eventually lured Betsy into an empty room.

“You didn’t really bring me up here to sleep with me, did you?” She asked, messing with her hair in the slight reflection from a window.

Jean shook her head, “No. But we want you to come back with us… You’ve heard of Charles Xavier…”

Betsy nodded.

“He wants you to help him with the attacks on the mutant community in southern Italy.”

“What will he give me in return?” Scott and Jean exchanged a quick glance. They weren’t exactly sure.

Scott’s voice faltered slightly, “You can…”

Jean finished his sentence. “—You can discuss that with him when we get to New York.”

Betsy turned her head to look at them, “And what if I say no?”

“We’ll chase you down until you do,” Scott stated with more confidence than before.

“Alright. I’ll go with you.”

Betsy had no idea Warren was in London, or even alive for that matter. Warren had no idea how she was going to react, and he didn’t really want to find out.

But he didn’t really have an option.

“Give us time to pack up and we can leave for Westchester,” Jean explained in the ride back to the hotel.

“Who else is with you?”

“Dr. McCoy is back at the hotel, and Ororo and Warren should be there too.” Betsy’s expression changed. “You probably know them as—”

“I know exactly who they are. I thought Warren died…”

Scott shook his head, “Nope. He’s doing great.” Scott blinked away the uncertainty hidden behind his words.

Betsy nodded, unsure what to say. She thought about maybe jumping out of the car, and never seeing these people again. She knew Warren would be angry when he saw her. She couldn’t blame him.

“He’s not upset with you…” Betsy looked at Jean, a bit shocked. “He’s hurting from something else… Don’t ask about it… just trust me...”

“Easy for you to say.” Betsy scoffed.

Jean shook her head, “You’ll see…”

“We’re here.” The driver stopped the car and the three got out.

Betsy looked up at the hotel the group was staying at, “Nice place.”

They walked in and headed to the nearest elevator. Jean was fidgeting with the comm in her ear.

“We got back about twenty minutes ago,” Ororo said.

“We’re on our way to our rooms,” Jean replied.

The elevator dinged, signaling it was at the destined floor.

They packed up quickly, and stood out in the hall, bags in hand.

Hank introduced himself to Betsy. Her response was short, she was preoccupied with her ex-boyfriend standing less than five feet away from her.

“Hi.”

He looked sad and more tired than usual. Seeing him sober was mind-blowing to Betsy, but people change. She hadn’t seen him in a few years— sure they saw each other during the Apocalypse incident, but that was a few days— she was really going to see him this time.

He didn’t respond to her. She frowned.

The plane ride was long and tedious. Betsy had nothing to do and wanted nothing more than to leave. So, she decided to try and talk to Warren again.

“Hey.” He turned his head around best he could and looked at Betsy questioningly. She nodded. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” Warren wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk.

“Cool… Cool…”

There was a pause before Warren spoke up, “Do you need anything?”

“Just wanted to talk…”

“You have other options.”

Betsy rolled her eyes.

“I don’t really wanna talk to you right now… And I don’t need you poking around in my head either.”

“I wasn’t going to,” She said calmly.

Warren didn’t respond. Betsy sighed, he was useless. Warren wasn’t going to talk even if she forced him. And she couldn’t really blame him, but she had a lingering feeling in her stomach.

Probably just my dinner digesting…

At some point, Betsy fell asleep, for when the plane landed Hank had to wake her up. She rubbed her eyes and undid her seatbelt.

“Do we have to go through security again?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, we left the country,” Hank told him while glancing at his watch.

Scott was not too thrilled. Everyone was tired to some degree. It was extremely late, and they went back a few hours due to the time zone.

“It won’t be that long. There’s hardly anyone here.”

Everyone went through security and headed to the baggage claim to get their stuff.

Jean was the first to get her suitcase— a medium-sized, teal one— Warren was next, and his was all black, to no one’s surprise, but the nametag on it looked drastic tied to the handle.

It was clear, with glitter and flowers trapped inside it. It didn’t seem like Warren at all to Betsy, but what did she know?

Hank took Betsy to an empty room and told her she could sleep there for the time being. She set her bags on the floor and looked around. There was a dated-looking wallpaper upon the walls, and the bed took up a little under half of the room.

It was alright.

Betsy rummaged through her bag for some pajamas when she heard footsteps.

Hank had left almost immediately after he showed her the room, so it couldn’t be him. She opened the door only to see Warren walking down the hall. She quietly followed him, staying several steps behind.

He went down to the main floor, and even further down into the basement.

This place is huge! Betsy said to herself.

The basement looked different from the rest of the mansion, for the walls and floor were made of metal.

Warren turned right, into a room within the basement. Betsy held her breath as she got closer.

What is he doing down here?

Betsy caught sight of a girl laying in a hospital bed. Warren sat down next to her and started talking…

That’s why he’s on edge… Betsy had accidentally bumped into something, making a loud noise.

Warren shot up, “Who’s there?”

Betsy tried to sneak out, but Warren caught her.

“Betsy!”

She froze.

“Why were you following me?”

“Why are you visiting a coma patient at three in the morning?” She asked back.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“I mean I figured as much—”

“So leave.” He cut her off and was sharp. “Please…” He pleaded more in his last word.

She looked at her unconscious figure, “I could help…”

“No,” He was stern.

“I could—” “—You’d kill her.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” She defended.

“Yeah, you would. Her mutation makes her basically hibernate until March, so she’s fine.”

“I could still help— I’ve helped you before…”

“No, you didn’t! You were constantly going in and out of my life whenever it was convenient for you and came back when I didn’t need you too! You— you ruined my life!”

Betsy felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

“Look…” Warren sighed. “Betsy… I’m sorry. I don’t want your help… I don’t want you to hurt her.”

Betsy nodded, she knew Warren wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I won’t help you.” She left the medical room, leaving Warren alone with his thoughts.

Over the next few days, Betsy accommodated herself to the mansion, giving Xavier the information he wanted, and exploring the grounds.

She was almost always accompanied by Jubilee, per some people’s request, seeing as her past wasn’t spotless.

Jubilee was full of energy, and always willing to tell Betsy whatever she asked about.

“Who’s Warren’s girlfriend?”

“Her name is (Y/N). She controls plants. She can also grow them from her body. And her eyes change color based on her mood… She’s uh, she’s not around at the moment, but that’s not important.”

Betsy nodded along as Jubilee spoke. “Is he happy?”

“Do you miss him?”

Betsy struggled to let out a straight answer, “No— ugh— I just— I ruined his life.”

“You didn’t ruin his life!” Betsy glared at her. “Okay, okay, maybe you kind of did ruin his life, but he’s fine now. He’s just a little on edge you’re here and (Y/N) isn’t.”

“I don’t need to stay here—”

“Bullshit!” Jubilee exclaimed. “You’ve got nowhere else to go, really.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

Betsy was rarely ever alone. She was too busy helping the X-Men.

She had a few moments to herself though. She was never sure what to do. She couldn’t just up and leave and go out to some bar and sulk in a corner and come back drunk and angry— that’d paint her as extremely irresponsible. She didn’t want to bore or impose on the X-Men if she didn’t have to.

She wandered around the mansion. It was massive and somewhat old and stuffy looking, but also gave off those classic school vibes.

Betsy wandered into the basement at some point and quickly learned, that was where the X-Men trained, made battle and mission plans, stored their jet, Hank worked on costumes and more in his lab, and where their medical bay was kept.

She knew she shouldn’t be down there alone. Betsy wasn’t going to do anything bad, but it felt wrong.

She was watching a girl in a coma sleep. There were so many things wrong about that.

Of course, no one would really care, except for maybe Warren— but he had every good reason to.

“You keep visiting me.”

Betsy almost jumped. The voice had startled her. She thought she was alone.

“Jean?” But didn’t sound like Jean. Betsy couldn’t decipher who it was.

She sat there for another thirty minutes, hoping the voice would return, but it didn’t.

So she got up and left.

It was probably just a student. My telepathic abilities aren’t the strongest. It was probably just a student somewhere on the grounds…

She didn’t tell anyone about the voice. She didn’t want to seem crazy, because it probably didn’t mean anything.

“Hey, guys! I found this on my google drive! It’s a bunch of videos from Xavier’s fourth of July party!” Peter had his laptop open at a table, with a few papers spread about.

Everyone, including Betsy, gathered around Peter as he played a few video clips.

It was Warren, Peter, Scott, and (Y/N) all together in the first one. They were walking in a parking lot with shopping bags in their hands.

“We just spent—” Peter cut Warren off.

“We just spent $2,000 on fireworks! Holy fuck!” Everyone else is laughing at his enthusiasm.

“Can’t Jubilee just produce fireworks? Why did we need this many anyway?”

“It’s for the American aesthetic, (Y/N)!”

They got into the car and Peter was still recording.

“Weren’t you born in Poland or something?”

“America was founded on immigration—”

The clip was cut off, and the next one played automatically. But Betsy remembered the voice. The female one. It was like the one she heard in the basement… was (Y/N) trying to contact her?

She tried to focus as the next few clips played, she needed to hear (Y/N)’s voice again.

“Kurt, look—” Peter was still recording with his smartphone, he had zoomed in on a darker part of Xavier’s. It was a tree, and two people were leaning up against it— clearly making out.

“Jean told me she went to get more popsicles!” Kurt whined.

Everyone watching was laughing, except for Scott and Jean, who were extremely embarrassed they got caught.

“You ain’t slick, Summers.”

“Shut up.”

Footsteps could be heard. “What are we doing?” (Y/N) asked.

“Look—” Kurt motioned to the couple at the tree.

“Oh, gross. They don’t even know we’re watching! And to think… Warren went inside to see what Jean was doing…”

“Well, he won’t find out,” Kurt joked.

Betsy knew she heard (Y/N) voice in the basement… but why? Was she a ghost? Did her unconscious state allow her to communicate telepathically?

She needed to go back there, alone, but she knew that was almost impossible. Hank was almost always down in the lab, and Warren was almost always visiting (Y/N).

That didn’t really matter to her. Betsy needed to talk to her or hear her voice again. She thought about asking Jean, but she thought that would be fruitless.

She went to visit (Y/N) again, but this time she spoke to her.

“Can you hear me?”

No response.

“My name is Betsy Braddock. I know who you are and I’m not going to hurt you.”

Betsy huffed, “This is stupid!” She got up and began to walk out.

“Wait!” Betsy froze. (Y/N) said something. “You keep visiting me…”

“I’m just curious about you,” Betsy responded.

“Why?”

“I don’t know I—”

“Betsy?” Warren’s voice was stern and almost angry. “What are you doing here?”

“I can hear her. Like, with my abilities… I know you didn’t really want me down here and I understand—”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if I could communicate with her telepathically…” She admitted. “That’s all. I’m not trying to wake her or anything.”

“I’m sorry… but I can hear people and it’s nice to have someone who can hear me back…”

Betsy, plagued with guilt, looked over at (Y/N), whos lifeless form hadn’t changed a bit, despite the obvious sadness in her words.

“I just feel, so bad and I don’t know why and… I ruined your life. There’s no shortcut, without me you would have left the fighting ring in less than three weeks… You’d have your feathery wings still… but I loved you and I couldn’t let go, and I thought bringing Apocalypse to you would make up for all the shit I did…”

“I was a kid. I didn’t even know what love meant! And I’m not avoiding you on purpose, I don’t resent you as much as I did when I first came here… but I don’t know what you want, okay? Our lives aren’t connected anymore, and I just want (Y/N) back...” Warren was biting down on his lip to keep himself from breaking down crying.

“Tell him I’m sorry.”

“(Y/N) said she’s sorry…”

Warren’s gaze shifted between the two girls.

“Why is she sorry?”

“All I’ve done since Christmas is make him unhappy and upset. He deserves someone who isn’t asleep for part of the year.”

“She said, you deserve someone who isn’t asleep for part of the year.”

Warren walked over to (Y/N)’s body, he held her hand in his. “It’s not about what I may or may not deserve. It’s about what I want and love.”

“I love him…”

Betsy was about to repeat what she said, but Warren was crying. He had let a single tear drip down.

It landed on (Y/N)’s hand. And soon as it did, her eyes flew open.

She was gasping for air, eyes squinting up at the fluorescent lights. (Y/N) heard voices.

“She’s awake…”

“It’s almost March, that might be too early—“

“—I’ll be fine,” (Y/N) interrupted. She rubbed her eyes and turned her eyes away from the lights, looking over at Warren, who was at her side, tears in his eyes.

“Betsy, go get Hank.” He instructed. Warren looked back at (Y/N), holding her hand in his, and his other cupping her cheek.

“Hi.” She murmured in a groggy tone.

“Hi.” He kissed her forehead. “I missed you.”

“I know… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” Warren was perplexed. “What for?”

“I couldn’t stay awake, and I hurt you, Warren. I made you cry and think you weren’t good enough for me…” She snuffled her nose.

“That’s bullshit. You could never hurt me. I was crying because I couldn’t do anything. The last time I saw you was before I went to Italy on some dumb mission— I missed you… I missed your smile, I missed how you’d make flower crowns and put them on my head, how I could go to you after a nightmare no matter what time of night it was, or how you told me I helped you become more assertive and learn it’s okay to say no, or you showing me the beauty in everything— I…” His voice was breaking, but all (Y/N) could see in his eyes was happiness. “I can’t live without you… I love you.”

“Oh, Warren, baby…” She squeezed his hand.

Warren cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her.

That one kiss said everything he wanted to say. It let out his feelings. It had passion and swiftness backing it up, followed by his undying love for (Y/N).

She kissed him back, trying to make up for the time they’ve lost. Her lips fit prefectures against his.

It was like the first time they kissed, full of everything she wanted, except much longer, with more meaning to it.

They broke apart slowly, almost as if they didn’t want to.

“I love you too…” She murmured.

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