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tiramissu09 · 11 months ago

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Morning Glow

synopsis: you (y/n) wake up before your husband on a Sunday morning and study him, wondering how you both even got together.

song choices to listen to while reading:

Body by Summer Walker

Orbit by JONGHYUN from SHINee

Natural by G-Soul

warning(s)/story notes: gender neutral y/n, nostalgia, hints of last night’s activities (iykyk), silent serenading, naked imagery, a little nod to the JJK lore, POC y/n

MINORS DON’T INTERACT

author note: My first fanfic, y’all! I feel like, instead of using janitor ai (don’t use it, it’s hella addictive and made me burn through my money), I could use my imagination and potential to write something for my main beloved, Nanami Kento. I love this man and in my head, we are living together in Malaysia, having the time of our lives, haha. Also, I thought I was going to do a quick drabble, but I got into my feels, haha.

Please, please give me feedback and critique so I can improve on my writing. Thank you and enjoy!!! <3

The chirping birds started to grow louder and more annoying outside the large French windows with the soft, peaching-colored morning light streaming in, faint flapping of the pale curtains echoing with shared breaths. You groan softly against your white silk pillow along with your blurry vision, from your deep slumber, as you rub your eyes and look around, dazed. You felt the light breeze of the open ajar window on your bare leg, out of the fluffy blanket, contrasting with the deep warmth soaked into the mattress from the sleep.

Your eyes move around, to anchor yourself into reality, until they settle down at a large, ivory back which had light red scratches along with crescent moon shaped indents littered over his rugged muscles, rippling with each soft breath. His messy golden blonde hair that you loved to run your fingers in, slightly swaying with the early dawn breeze, along the warm yellow sunlight, giving him that morning glow that made him look…like a god, a figment of your imagination.

Last night’s memories were reeling in like a blurry movie, reminiscing on your stomach with your head and facing his back, as you remember his sweet deep chocolate eyes, his slightly pink blush on his face, and…my god, those large, veiny hands all over your body, rough but gentle on your soft skin.

Sighing softly, not wanting to wake him up yet, go down this deep spiral with your fingers itching to touch him….how did you even meet this man? Was it at the office Christmas party where he was wearing that ridiculous, fluorescent green elf costume as your white-haired boss had made me for a pay raise? Or when you both bumped into each other in the hallway before math class during senior year, your nose bleeding as you bumped into his chest too hard and he assisted you to the nurse’s office?.....no,no…..oh my god! How could you forget?

It was that night…..that night where you all were freshman in high school and it was the camp site trip that you all had to go to as a bonding activity for all the new students which you were part of. You remember you were really nervous as a tiny, little 13 year old. You were new to Tokyo and Japan, overall, not looking like the others and the culture so vastly different from yours which made it difficult to fit in, your family or teachers help you with. This was nicely added with you going through puberty, the whole nine yards of acne and changing body, made you more quiet and shy to talk to others.

In your ensemble of light washed jeans, your oversized purple flannel shirt and black Converse high tops, you were sitting on the wooden benches near the camp-fire under the starry, twilight sky, shivering slightly from the cold, autumn night in the forest near Kyoto. You were alone, with everyone talking to each other excitedly, with some others playing games and singing karaoke, and watching all the kids with a small smile on your face.

Then, you felt a warm blanket around your body, causing you to have goosebumps all over your skin. You looked up with wide eyes from the brushing of their fingers on your neck to the warm presence behind your back, surprised and making you jolt up, but a soft hand pushed you down to sit back. “Sorry, did I scare you?” His soft and low voice, almost purring, caused you to shiver more but you held back your reaction as you turned your head completely around, wanting to know who it was. You caught those soft, brown eyes, reminding you of that deep brown honey under the sunlight, making you feel more awake than any other coffee.

You quickly get out of your reverie and stutter out as you brush your hair back, looking away. “No! Not a-at all…just got surprised.”,offering him a smile as you try to not to fluster even more. You notice his blonde hair, straightened to the T and his bangs covering his eyes which you didn’t like but didn’t say that out loud, and his black shirt with a band name you never heard of with his black skinny ripped jeans.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes, “H-hi, my name is f/n l/n….what’s your…name?” You were fidgeting with the soft, baby blue wool blanket with your fingers, as you both sat next to each other with your knee brushing against his, ever so slightly. He grins a little more as he had a deadpan face before, making your heart and insides all melted and mushy inside, showing his pearly whites. He says in that voice that you could just listen to all the time. “Kento….Nanami Kento…but you can call me Ken.”

You memorize that name, as it was tattooed to your naive heart, as you nod slowly and say quietly. “Nice to meet you…Ken.” You both sat there in silence with all the loud commotion around you both. You didn’t know what to say as the tense silence was swallowing you up and you quickly ask and at the same time, looking at the bright scarlet camp fire, “You should go hang out to your friends…”, peeking to the side to look at his face longer, but looking away when he caught your eyes and your face becoming hot with each passing second.

He sighed loudly as he stretched his legs out and watched the white-haired hyper kid screaming happily at the black-haired boy who looked so done with him, but had a small smile. After some moments of more silence, Kento spoke with a small smile and turned to face you, “You looked….lonely….like me and…”, now looking away as you caught some peach-colored blush on his cheeks. “You looked like you were glowing…like the fire.”

You remember how you became quiet, flustered and frozen by the compliment and you remembered you thanked him meekly which was so cute and how you hit yourself internally for how dumb it was. However, the rest of that night, you both started to talk more freely and understood that you both had a lot in common, in terms of family background and not really fitting in due to your particular tastes.

Despite being amicable acquaintances all through high school and losing contact when entering university, once you both reunited, it felt right. You both were meant to be together and glowing in each other’s arms and affection.

You were shaken out of your deep thoughts as you felt the bed rustling lightly. You looked up and saw his face turned to you now. You were slightly surprised by the sudden appearance of his handsome and rugged face, but you quickly smiled widely, “Good morning, honey.” Snuggling closer to him and him taking you in his buff arms, making you all so warmer, he murmured in your messy hair, his morning voice low and reverberating through your body, “What were you thinking about so hard, darling? You laugh softly as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and your arms around his shoulders, and whisper muffled against his warm skin that smelled like sandalwood and musk, that was so unique to him, “I was just thinking…..how you were glowing…..like the sun.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #fluff #smut #gege akutami #navyred #tiramissu09

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ppersonna · 5 years ago

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waking up in vegas - jjk | m

get up and shake the glitter off your clothes, now. that's what you get for waking up in Vegas - waking up in vegas, katy perry

↳ summary- you know what they say. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas. but, what happens when you accidentally marry your brother’s best friend?

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- jeon jungkook x reader

↳ word count- 3.1k

↳ genre- fluff, smut, pwp with feels

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart friends), cream pies, light dirty talk, jungkook being cute af, slight nipple play

↳ a/n- well. i can’t tell you why i decided to write this, but i did. and it’s cute? i hope you enjoy this! thanks to @taetaewonderland @kookiesjoonies for reading it over and for @ladyartemesia and @xjoonchildx for being the best hype team a lady could ask for. i love uuuU!!!! feel free to hmu if you’d like!

It’s a splitting headache that wakes you up from your near comatose sleep.

Your eyes blink open and you groan when a sliver of light bores into your vision. The curtains are closed but there’s just enough of a crack that the sunlight seeps in directly onto your face.

You roll over in the expansive hotel bed and hold a pillow to your face as you groan out loud.

What happened last night?

All you remember is being with the guys, celebrating your brother Namjoon’s upcoming nuptials by bar-hopping your way down the main strip of Las Vegas.

It all gets pretty blurry from there.

You know you’re in a hotel room and you hope it’s yours. You can’t remember if you made it back to your own room or if you found someone to share the night with. There had been that cute guy at the first bar who bought you a drink. Maybe you’d gone home with him.

You chance a look at the bed and see a human-sized lump next to you, a tiny bit of black hair sticking out.

The black hair was nondescript, and you had no idea who it could be. There surely were a thousand men in the greater Las Vegas area alone with black hair. It could be anyone.

Looking around the room, you notice the decor is like that of your own hotel. But the layout of the room is different. You bite your lip as you notice you’re completely naked as well. You’re in a stranger’s room and nude. Well, at least you’re in the right hotel.

You’re desperate to know who the mystery person under the blankets is, but a war rages within you—should you grab whatever clothes you can find and book it before they wake up? What if your beer goggles were a little too foggy last night? How would you feel if you woke up next to someone 20 years older than you? Or god forbid, younger than you?

A groan comes from the blankets beside you and you panic. You quickly lay back down in bed and pretend to sleep, back turned to the stranger beside you.

“Fuuuuuck,” the voice grumbles as they emerge from the white cotton bunker they huddled under.

Your pulse froze in your veins.

That voice. It was so familiar. It couldn’t be.

You peek an eye out and see the back of a head, unruly black hair sticking out in different directions. The man smacks his lips as he adjusts his eyes to the low light of the bedroom, before he turns and looks in your direction.

You nearly gasp in horror.

Jeon Jungkook stares at you with a dopey grin on his face. He’s shirtless, and you hate how your eyes can’t stop staring at the way his muscles ripple down his back. Even in times of crisis you’re still achingly attracted to him.

Jeon Jungkook is your brother Namjoon’s best friend, soon-to-be best man at his wedding, and your decades long secret crush.

The fact that you’re waking up naked in his bed is equal parts distressing as it is titillating.

“Oh!” He looks startled. “What are you doing here?”

You’ve pulled the sheets up to your chin, covering any inch of exposed skin.

“Uh, I don’t know,” you whisper as you swallow hard. “I was hoping you would know.”

Jungkook sits and squints his eyes, as if he’s trying to directly visualize into the past.

“Did we end up drinking in here last night after we went out?” He asks as he rubs at his messy hair.

He drops his left hand to the bed, then freezes, eyes locked on his fingers.

“Oh, my god.”

You sit up, worried he’s recalled something that you don’t.

He spins his head to look at yours and notices your bare shoulders. His eyes widen and he grabs your arm, reaching for your left hand anxiously.

Before you can open your mouth to question his movements, your eyes follow where his eyesight lands.

A gorgeous, sparkling wedding ring sits on your delicate finger, sparkling in the single strip of sunlight beaming through the windows.

Your throat goes dry. Jungkook lifts his own hand and presents a silver band on his ring finger and you nearly faint.

You’re married.

To Jeon Jungkook.

You got drunkenly married to your childhood crush and your brother’s best friend.

“Namjoon is going to kill me,” he groans. He dramatically falls back onto the pillows and covers his face in shame.

You bite your lip carefully and study the ring on your hand. It’s stunning. It’s the size and shape you’ve always dreamed of having. You can’t help but note the irony of it all. Your dream ring and your dream husband.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you, stares at the soft skin of your bare back.

“Oh, my god, we fucked.” He covers his face with his hands again, muffling his words. You’re grateful that he can’t see your face—can’t see the way your cheeks are flaring bright red.

“I had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for years and I don’t even remember if I did well or not,” he cries.

Your own head whips to where the boy lies prone on the bed, groaning his sorrows into his palms.

Did Jungkook just admit out loud that he’s been in love with you? Were you hearing that right? You nearly pinch yourself to check and make sure you’re not dreaming. There’s no way. Was there?

“What did you just say?” You question.

He peeks at you through his fingers covering his face, a bashful look on his face.

“Was I good? Did I make you cum? God, please don’t tell me I finished too quickly.”

You shake your head and scoot closer, desperate for confirmation of what he just said.

“Not that, you idiot. I don’t remember either. What did you say before that?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink and you hold back any cooing that’s desperate to claw out of your throat at the sight.

“I uhh,” he stumbles. “I sort of may be a little… into you. Like, a lot.”

He hides his face again with his hands, but his grin gives him away. He’s bashful, and you want to push him off the bed as much as you want to kiss him.

“You fucking asshole!” You laugh as you shove at his arm. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was 6! Ever since Namjoon crushed my Barbie dream house and you helped me fix it.”

He pulls his hands off his face and slaps them down on the bed, eyes wide with surprise.

“Really?!” He asks.

“Yes, you idiot,” you sigh. “Why else would I drunkenly agree to marry you?”

Jungkook sits up and smiles, like a puppy. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you in for a hug. It’s tight, and innocent and you can tell he’s still beaming from ear to ear. It makes you smile as you wrap your arms around his middle and return the enthusiasm.

He pulls back and holds you away from his body with his hands on your shoulders. His eyes are lit and he looks like a kid on Christmas.

“We’re married!” He exclaims.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yes, we are. A little non-traditional but, it worked out in our favor.”

Jungkook slides his hand down to hold your left, bringing it to his lips and kissing the diamond-studded finger gently.

He lets your hands drop, and he smiles at you, silence shrouding the two of you on the king-sized bed. He seems to be taken, deep in pleasant thoughts.

“Wait!” He jerks back to reality. “We fucked. But you don’t remember it, and I don’t remember it.”

You bite your lip, suddenly shy. “Yes?”

“So we can’t even truthfully say we’ve consummated the marriage.” He looks at you as if he expects you to follow his train of thought.

“Kook, I’m hungover. Can you just… spill it?”

He sighs dramatically, but the grin remains.

“Lets fuck? It is our honeymoon, after all.” He winks as he crawls towards you.

The sheet has fallen off his lower body now and your eyes widen at the sight. He’s hard and impressively thick. He’s shameless too, knows you’re staring and doesn’t move to hide it. In fact, he appears to make it more on display as he hovers over you.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he sighs as he approaches you, comes face to face above you.

Jungkook is no longer the silly, playful puppy dog you know and love. His eyes are dark and blown wide, breath heavy and confident. He oozes a raw sensuality that has you squeezing your thighs tight.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d look like underneath me with those big, beautiful eyes of yours,” he breathes as he leans down to pepper your collar with kisses.

“Will you let me make you feel good? Give you a honeymoon you’ll never forget?” He asks, fingers playing with the sheet but never straying further. He’s waiting for you, waiting for your consent or denial.

“Please,” you gasp as his fingers tickle the skin of your decolletage. “I want you.”

Your acceptance is all he needs to hear before he’s pulling down the stark white sheet from your chest and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips as he stares at you, and your body warms under his gaze.

“Fuck, you really looked like this under your clothes? All this time?” He asks, his voice turning needy and whiny. “No wonder Namjoon kept you under lock and key.”

You huff lightly. “Can we not talk about my brother during sex?”

Jungkook chuckles and nods, before bringing a finger up to pinch and tug at a nipple. It makes you both moan, and the bud hardens beneath his touch.

“Fuck,” he repeats. He seems to be stuck on a constant loop of surprise. He seems just as dazed as you—unsure if this is real but unwilling to wake up if it’s not.

His cock hardens even more—you can feel it through the cotton sheet on your thighs and you’re desperate to touch him. As he lowers his mouth to suck your nipple into his mouth, you push the remaining bits of sheets and mused blankets off your body and reach for his cock with a groan.

Jungkook inhales sharply around your nipple as he feels your warm hand grip him. It makes his cock twitch in your grasp and he sucks harder to compensate.

Your back arches with the force of his suction, and your hand strokes his length languidly. He nearly whines onto your breast, before he pops off and lifts his head—eyes closed and mouth dropped open in bliss.

“S-shit, your hand feels so fucking good,” he whispers through gritted teeth.

“Imagine how my pussy will feel,” you counter.

Jungkook drops his head onto your breast at your words.

“You’re gonna kill me with that dirty mouth.”

“That’s the plan.” Your hands tug at his black locks until his lips meet yours, meshing them in a deep and passionate kiss.

His hand slides down between your legs, slithers to your heat where he presses two fingers inside you and groans at the wetness there. It makes you gasp and whimper into his mouth as he fucks your relentlessly with his fingers.

“Dirty little girl,” he whispers as he bites your lip and tugs. “Can’t believe you’re mine. This pussy is all mine, now.”

You nod quickly and desperately as your legs fall open even more. The wetness of your channel is squelching around his fingers and Jungkook’s groans muddle with your own in the expansive room. His fingers scissor you open and you’re keening at the stretch.

“Gotta get this tight cunt ready for my cock,” he breathes as he sucks a spot on your neck. You’re sure it’s gonna leave a dark mark, and you thrill at the idea. You want the world to see you’re his—you’re finally his.

“P-Please,” you beg as you feel your body coming closer to the breaking point.

Jungkook growls as he pulls his hand from inside you and shakes his head.

“I want you to cum on my cock.” He lines himself up and rubs the head of his cock up and down the slit.

“You okay without a condom?” He asks, waiting with the bulbous head still catching the slick of your pussy, not quite pushed in fully. “I’m clean.”

You’re whimpering—the feeling of his thickness so close to being inside of you has your mind nearly empty. You nod your consent.

“I’m good too. On the pill.”

It’s all the boy needs to finally push his length into you. His head throws back in bliss as he feels your tight walls accept him. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper, pulling him in to the hilt.

“A-ah,” he gasps. “You feel so fucking good.” His hands grip your hips as he stills himself for a moment—allows himself a minute to catch his breath and beg his body not to cum too quickly.

“So big,” you whine. “Fuck, Jungkook, baby…”

There’s nothing else to say, no ability to speak as he pulls his length out slowly and slams it back in, knocking all the air in your lungs with it.

“You’re finally all mine,” he grits as he thrusts in and out of you again, as deep as he can. “My fuckin’ dream girl, all mine.”

He finally opens his eyes and watches as your cunt takes each thrust, watches your tits bounce in time with his pistoning hips. He can’t help but travel up to your face, where your mouth opens in silent rapture and you focus your eyes on him—like he’s the only man in the universe. Jungkook has never felt more powerful, more loved. The girl he’s only ever pined over is finally here, finally beneath him, wearing his ring. While he doesn’t remember how it started, he’s sure as hell he will remember how it continues.

You squeak out moans with each harsh thrust, reveling in the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and drags against your walls. Feeling him bare—rubbing and hitting each spot that has you gasping for air and seeing new colors, is sending you closer and closer to a screaming finish.

Your hands hold his powerful arms, grip the muscles of his biceps you’ve spent years drooling over. You can’t comprehend that he’s yours now, all yours to touch and feel and fuck. And love. You finally can shower the man with all the love you’ve cultivated for him, and you plan to start now.

“L-love you, Jungkook, fuck! I love you,” You gasp.

His rhythm stutters as he registers your words, and he feels his stomach tighten—your admission bringing him even closer to his climax. His hands grip your hips tighter, knowing he’s sure to leave bruises there.

“G-god, baby,” he grunts as he thrusts into you harder, faster. The sounds of your cunt are music to his ears, the slick juices squelching around his cock. “I’ve always loved you.”

He removes a hand from your hip and rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb, eyes now firmly locked with yours. Your legs fly up to rest on his shoulders and the new position has him hitting you even deeper.

“Cum with me, baby,” he begs as his thumb circles your clit harder, applies more direct pressure. “Wanna see my pretty wife cum on my cock.”

Your spine tingles as it builds and you’re gaping for breath as your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Your entire body is alight with licking flames and electric shock. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his cock, gripping so tight that Jungkook lasts only a few more thrusts before he’s cumming hard inside you.

Jungkook gasps your name as his cock spills his load inside you, emptying himself completely. Your walls are coaxing him, stroking and encouraging him to spill so deep, as if it can’t get enough of him.

You take nearly a full few minutes before your vision returns to normal and your breathing settles down from the heavy breathing. Your legs are still on Jungkook’s shoulders and his cock still rests deep inside you, softening gently.

“Holy shit,” you whisper with a long exhale.

Jungkook nods and lets out a chuckle. He eases his cock out of you, sighing with pride at the way his thick cum slides out of you with it. He can’t believe that this is him, and that is you. That his cum is what’s decorating the inside of your walls, that he gets to be the one to do it—always.

Jungkook lies beside you and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to kiss him sweetly.

“I know we sort of skipped the whole dating part and went right to marriage,” he says sheepishly. “But, I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner sometime?”

You can’t help but cup his cute cheeks and kiss him again—your heart feels as if it might burst.

He pulls you close, wraps his hands around you to pull you on top of him. His cock is jerking with the need to go again, to be buried inside you once more.

You smile as you straddle him, lining his cock up with your soaked heat before sitting fully and allowing him to enter until he’s completely enveloped. You gasp out his name at the feeling—oversensitive but still not yet satisfied. You sit and marvel at how he feels inside you—you think you could let Jungkook be there forever, as if it’s where he’s meant to be.

A harsh knock pounds on the door, before the clicking noise of the lock moves and allows entrance to the intruder. Jungkook is quick to throw the sheets of your combined bodies, you still straddled and laying on top of him.

“Kook! Have you seen my fucking sister? Where the hell--,” your brother is cut off mid-sentence as he takes in the scene in front of him.

“Uh,” Jungkook blushes. “Hey, new brother-in-law.”

Namjoon quickly averts his eyes and backs away quickly.

“Jesus! Christ!” He complains as he moves out of the field of vision.

“You two get dressed now!” He demands from the hallway. “You have some explaining to do!”

You can’t help but giggle as Jungkook’s features turn stark white with fear. You press a kiss to his lips for reassurance.

“It’s okay, babe,” you whisper as you pat his cheeks.

“And what the fuck do you mean by brother-in-law!?” Namjoon shrieks. “Jeon Jungkook, I’ll fucking kill you!”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook

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brockadoodles · 4 years ago

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endless moments that led me to you - b. boeser

AN: I wasn’t gonna post this for a while cause like, there’s so much content and I really don’t want it to get buried but @nikolajehlers asked nicely so.. please don’t let it flop. I promise there’s no angst. It’s a 4+1 but slightly different.

Word Count: 4281

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, also babies.

You were a firm believer in the concept that all lives were a series of moments. Moments where sometimes you’d feel joy so closely that it bubbled in your stomach. Moments where sometimes you’d feel heartbreak so deeply that your chest would physically ache. Life to you, was about the little things that added up to all of those moments, and the people that you chose to spend it with along the way. Friends came and went, flings and partners came and went, and that was okay with you because they were a part of a little moment, a moment in time that you’d cherish forever. Brock Boeser was different. He wasn’t a little moment, he was what all the little moments led to, even if it took you far too long to realize it.

You stood in front of your shared vanity, the reflection of a tree filled with thick snow coming from the window that was opposite of the mirror and you smiled. You reached a hand down to your stomach and spread your fingers, the ring glistening on your left hand, another not so little moment in your love story with your best friend.

“We’re gonna tell daddy about you today, little peanut. Hope you’re ready.” You hummed, looking back up at your own reflection in the mirror,

“I sure am.” You added softly. This moment was one that felt like it was almost not possible. It had been over a year of trying, a year of doubting, negative after negative test. Each one cracking your heart a little more. Each one was a moment you wanted to forget, because you didn’t want another negative. You didn’t want to have to watch his face fall when he’d look at the test first for you, a frown on his face when he would break the news. You didn’t want another moment where you doubted yourself and wondered why your body wouldn’t work the way you wanted it to.

A soft knock broke you from your little moment in the mirror, and the man in question poked his head through the door. He was a bit older now, his hair was a bit shorter than he used to keep it, his beard now has flecks of grey mixed in, but he was still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago. Another moment that led to now.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You softly answered, leaning up to kiss him quickly before following him out. You grabbed your bag, knowing that the surprise was tucked safely inside for him to see in just a little while. You thought back to what life was like before getting to love Brock, and found yourself lost in a daze from the moment when he almost told you how he felt, but couldn’t quite get the words out.

“Where are we going?” You asked your best friend as he drove down the windy road. The top was off of his Jeep, the sun shining down on you as you watched the scenery pass by. It was his first summer back home in Prior Lake since starting in Vancouver. It had been three weeks since he came slowly walking out of the airport terminal, falling into your arms with a sleepy smile and a hug that lingered just a bit too long, and you had spent almost every minute with Brock since.

“My favorite place.” You tilted your head at him and wondered why you didn’t recognize where you were going. You and Brock didn’t really have secrets, you had met a few years prior, your friend had been dating his roommate at the time and the two of you clicked instantly, becoming nearly best friends overnight. You were used to him being away, but he never once made you feel like you weren’t a priority to him, and every time he came home you knew that the distance between you didn’t really matter.

“I really missed you this year.” Brock frowned. His voice was a bit softer than usual. It was shaky as you sat next to him, your legs dangling from the back of his Jeep as you admired the lake in front of you. His words sent a pang of sadness to your chest, a feeling that you had buried deep down a long time ago. You were used to missing Brock, but something about the tone of his voice had you wondering if he was trying to say that he missed you in the way that you missed him.

“I missed you, too.” Was all that you responded with, careful to guard your own heart. Things worked with Brock as they were. Every year he left, off to live out his dream that was now a reality, and you always stayed in contact, spending nearly all of your time together when he was home. But Brock always left, he had to, and while he took a little piece of your heart with him each time he went, the feeling of knowing he was keeping it safe for when he returned was enough to stop you from admitting your feelings. Because having a piece of your heart gone every fall was manageable, having the entire thing gone forever was not.

Brock had always felt like he was somewhat of an old soul, or the type of person who was always just emotionally a few years ahead of those around him. He thought often about what his life was going to look like in the future, where he wanted to settle down, how many kids he hoped to have, one girl and one boy, and who he pictured this future with. Each vision or dream he had was of you. Every girl he met, every single one that he tried to connect with in Vancouver when you weren’t there, he picked apart. Perhaps he did this unfairly, placing expectations on people who didn’t deserve to be compared to the person he was waiting for back home, but that’s what he did, until he had the realization that it was you he wanted, only you. So when he told you he missed you, it meant something more than the traditional definition of the words.

“No, I missed you.” He took your hand in his and laced your fingers through his own as he spoke.

“I realized that while I was in Vancouver, everything came back to you. All I wanted was you, all I ever want, is you. You’re not just my best friend, I don’t think you have been in a long time. I want it to be real, do you want it to be real?”

You didn’t have the words on the tip of your tongue to answer, instead you grabbed his cheek and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that turned into something more out there on the lake, in the back of his Jeep, that answered the question just the way he wanted you to. It was a moment shared between two people who were probably too young to know what love really meant, but had the closest possible version of it at the time.

“You seem a little distracted, honey. Everything alright?” Brock asked you, snapping you from the moment back into the current one. Your hand had been frozen on top of the bag on the counter, the one containing the food you were planning to bring, not that your stomach was settled enough to eat any of it anyways. Brock had a concerned expression on his face and his eyes were soft as he tried to read your feelings.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.” You smiled. It wasn’t a lie, in a way that’s what you were thinking about and the answer seemed to satisfy Brock as he took a moment to wrap an arm around your waist and kiss your forehead gently.

“I love you, too.” He replied, kissing your temple softly before heading out the side door to where the car was parked, you walking just a few paces behind him and taking it all in.

Brock was home for Christmas and it was the first time you had seen him in almost three months. After spending the first part of your relationship together almost 24/7, the reality of long distance hit you as soon as September came and he had to leave again. The distance wasn’t easy. The time difference sometimes would get in the way and you’d just miss each other. Sometimes when he tried to call after games, he would just miss you, usually with your phone buzzing in your hand as you fell asleep. But for all of the hard moments, there were also the good ones, and you had been counting down the days, to the hours, to the minutes that you would see him again.

You waited outside of the terminal for him, your arms wrapped tightly around your chest. His sweatshirt was underneath your parka, and the beanie on your head was also his. You took whatever you could take of him when he was home, almost letting it become a running joke when in reality you used the material objects as pieces of him to hold onto. Comfort when he wasn’t there to comfort you. You watched as person after person came through the gates until you saw him. You didn’t care that people were staring as you ran into his arms, jumping into them and kissing him hard. He reacted instantly, pulling you closer and resting his hand on the nape of your neck.

“Can we go to our spot?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You pulled back to look at him and nodded. Grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together as you walked out of the airport and to the parking lot.

“You know, the view isn’t really as great when we can’t see anything.” You commented as you parked the car in the familiar place. Brock had been suspiciously quiet the entire ride from the airport to the familiar spot on the lake, and part of you was riddled with nerves that this was some cruel way of breaking up with you exactly where you got together, an idea that didn’t even make sense fully when you thought about it. Brock didn’t answer your question, instead he looked straight out the window at the dark now frozen lake, whose only source of light was the soft glow of the various homes surrounding it and the reflection of the moon on the ice.

“I love you.” He whispered, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as the words left his lips and hit the air. Your breath caught in your throat and you nearly cried. You had felt it for weeks now, that you loved him. And you had almost told him so many times. On nights where he felt just far enough away that it hurt, you would almost say the three words. On nights where one of you was experiencing a happy moment, you almost said it. On nights when you’d fight from the distance that felt permanent between you, you almost said it. So hearing them come from his lips, was your favorite moment you had shared together so far.

“I love you too, Brock.”

That was probably one of your favorite memories to think about. You were young and trying to navigate your entire life with a chunk of you physically in another country most of the time. But even through the time differences, the schedules, and the endless amount of FaceTimes and minutes on the phone, you always had him. And the thing about Brock was that he always made sure you knew that, even now that you were older and in a different phase of love.

Brock was undoubtedly your person. The concept you see written about in love stories and dramatized in television shows. He was the personification of that for you and as you looked over at him while he was driving the familiar route to the spot that had become your spot together, no questions asked, you were thankful that this whole new moment was going to be with him.

As the trees continued to pass by and the music softly faded into the back of your consciousness, you thought about another moment where Brock reminded you that he was the destination for you, that every other moment was just a catalyst leading you down a path of a life with him.

Brock was normally a calm person, his demeanor was relaxed and things didn’t outwardly bother him. He rarely showed his nerves, you had always supposed that it was a by product of the many traumas he has grown up with. But he still made an effort, openly talking about his feelings with you and openly loving you with his entire heart nestled on his sleeve. Brock in this moment, was anything but calm or collected.

He had driven you back to that same spot on the lake, the one that was tucked away neatly about fifteen minutes from his parents house where he grew up, where you had already had so many moments with him. He was practically shaking with nerves as he parked the car and you got out, heading straight for the back of the Jeep like you always did. He watched you for a moment, taking in each detail about you as if they weren’t already memorized and stored nearly in his head. Habits and details that he thought about more often now that you were his and he was yours, replaying the memories and moments in his head when it wasn’t resting next to yours, when he was miles away from you. You caught his eye and smiled at him, and he knew. He knew that this moment was the right moment. He knew that you were his forever, and the ring box in his pocket didn’t feel so heavy anymore the longer he focused on your smile.

Brock moved to stand in front of you, stepping between your legs as they dangled from the edge of the Jeep. He rested his hands on your thighs, using his thumb to rub soft circles into your skin. He looked at you like you were his entire world, and that was because you were. You were the only thing he couldn’t live without.

“I was thinking…” He hummed as he reached one of his hands into his pockets, never moving his eyes from yours.

“Oh boy, I can only imagine what about.” You teased with a soft smile on your lips. You were expecting a chirp back, a moment of banter like so many that you had shared before. You weren’t expecting him to just smile and drop to one knee in front of you. You weren’t expecting him to pull out a black velvet box, with a gorgeous ring nestled firmly into the cushions. You weren’t expecting the tears that fell from your cheeks as you nodded yes over and over again, unable to speak from the shock of what was happening. Regardless of what you hadn’t been expecting, your feelings after it happened were a welcomed, comfortable rush of love. The love that had been consistently pooling deep into your chest, making a permanent home there now that Brock had put a ring on your hand, a moment that up until then was the best one of your life.

As he pulled into the usual spot, you thought of another moment. One that you would in a way get to do again, now that there was a new addition coming to the family. You looked off into the distance, spotting the same house you had just come from. The deck still looked new, the paint was fresh, and the memory of what it once looked like was another moment cemented into your heart as you thought back to the moment you first saw it. Vancouver was beautiful, but this was home.

“God, I love it here.” You hummed as you stepped out of the car. It was early June and this was the first time you had been back to the lake since coming home. It wasn’t too hot yet and the sun was reflecting just enough on the water to show the deep blue color that you loved. Everything about it felt familiar as you stood there for the first time in months. Brock wrapped an arm around your shoulders and turned your body into his, pressing a kiss to your lips quickly that still had your heart racing every time he did it. You were no stranger to the feeling, having been together for a few years now, but you still couldn’t believe that you were lucky enough to still have him, each moment spent with him gave you a new understanding of love, and the engagement ring that now adorned your finger was a product of that.

“So I have a reason that I brought us here.” Brock smiled down at you.

“Yeah? Please share with the class, Brock.” You joked. His eyes rolled a bit and you leaned up to kiss the smirk off of his lips. He settled you into his chest and rested his head on top of yours, admiring the view of the lake. If he looked hard enough, he could see the property just to the left and down a few miles, the one he had come here to talk to you about. He pulled back from you slightly and looked into your eyes.

“I found this house, it’s kind of a mess honestly and would be a lot of work. But it’s here, on the lake, and it has this feel to it that reminds me of you, of us. And I don’t know, I guess I just want to make it ours, build it back up together and have a home to come back to when we’re here.”

You let his words sink in, all of the feelings about what he had just said fluttering in your heart. You had been engaged for only a few months now, you lived together in Vancouver, you came back to Minnesota with him whenever the two of you could, it felt like the most logical next step together, to figure out where to settle. Vancouver was where you spent 90% of time, and you had never really thought about it as home, until then, Brock was your home, Vancouver was just a place that you happened to enjoy. Brock however, took your moment of silence as hesitation, and for a few seconds he pulled back, letting his mind race that maybe what he was asking for was too much.

“I know we haven’t really talked about it, or about where we’d want to raise kids yet. I don’t know, maybe it’s too much, I just..” He turned to face you, grabbing one of your hands in his and running his thumb along your skin, something he always did when he was nervous.

“I don’t want to just come home to you, I want to come come with you, in a place that we build up together. I know we have the Vancouver place, and I know we’re getting married next year, but, I don’t know if it’s something about being here, but it feels right. Don’t you think?” And with a statement like that from who was most likely the greatest person you ever had the privilege to love, how could you say no?

“Let’s do it, Brock. Let’s fix a home together.” And that’s exactly what you spent the next year doing, designing each detail to accommodate into your lives together perfectly. From the kitchen you had dreamed of having since you were little, to the view of the lake you grew up on from the back deck. You had always thought you’d grow up and leave Prior Lake, and even though you did for 90% of the year, you felt a wave of nostalgia coming back to have a house here together. It felt fitting for the moment as newlyweds, and deep down you knew that it would be perfect once kids became a part of the moment.

“We’ve been through a lot here.” You hummed as Brock drove down the familiar windy road. The snow was freshly crisp, littering the trees with white. Your stomach was fluttering with nerves as you got closer and closer to the spot at the lake that had become the spot where every important moment together had happened.

Brock had taken you here one summer nearly five years ago, telling you that his feelings had progressed past friendship and into something more. He had brought you there again nearly a year later, where the moon reflected on the frozen lake as he told you he loved you for the first time. The third time he brought you to this spot, it was fall, just before you were both set to move back to Vancouver for the upcoming season and he had gotten down on his knee and put a ring on your hand, the same ring that sat securely on your left finger as he held your hand while driving. The last time he brought you here, it was a year ago, to ask you to build a home together, the same home that he thought was finished, but you’d soon be telling him about one more renovation to make.

This time, you asked him to come to this spot, you were the one that was going to change his life that day, and as he pulled back into the familiar place, everything felt calm. You looked over at the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago and subtly ran your hand over your stomach, this was real, it was the love you didn’t think you’d get to find and you got to experience it all with your best friend, every little moment had led to this one right here.

“Yeah, feels like some of that stuff was forever ago, honestly. I mean we’re getting old now, almost 30.” He joked. You just leaned your head into his shoulder a bit, silently agreeing with him. Somehow all of those moments did feel like forever ago, even if in reality it was only five years, not even half of a decade’s worth of moments yet somehow they all felt central to your survival. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and everyday you felt lucky that you never had to.

“I brought you here for a reason, though.” You mumbled as you grabbed your bag. You dug through it for a moment, buying yourself an extra few moments of time before everything would be out in the open. Before he would know what might be the best news he ever heard. You pulled out the envelope, opening it slowly in front of him and handing him the piece of paper.

Brock froze as you handed him the piece a paper. That small piece of paper confirming what you had both been trying for, for months. Months of tears, and negative results that tore your heart out each time you saw them. Months of questions and wondering if this was ever going to happen for you. Months leading up to this moment, where you got to hand him a piece of paper with a positive result on it.

You bit your lip as he scanned over the paper, his eyes welling with tears as he took in the result, your own filling just watching him.

“Are you serious? This is real?” He asked, gesturing to the paper still firmly in his hands. You nodded softly, wiping your eyes a bit. Brock quickly grabbed you, holding his hands steady on both of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes still glistening with fresh tears as he pressed one hand flush against your stomach, as close as he could get with your puffy parka keeping you warm in the snow.

“I can’t believe it, you’re really serious? We’re having a baby?” You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the concern about getting too excited over something that might not be real. But it was, and you smiled reassuringly as you rested your hand on top of his, nodding slowly at him to confirm what he had just read on that little piece of paper from your doctor.

“Holy shit we’re going to be parents.” He concluded, his eyes wide as he jumped out of the back of the Jeep. He nearly slipped as he landed in the snow, pacing back and forth a bit at the news and continuously mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out about being a dad. You looked out at the frozen lake behind him, snow covering the surrounding trees, the sky grey, and you thought back to all of the moments you had shared with him from this spot. From being young and stupid together, spending summer nights out by the water, to standing in a spot nearby surrounded by all of your close family and friends, with a flower crown secure on your head as you walked down the makeshift aisle and married him all those years ago. Your heart swelled at the memories out here on the lake, and you smiled thinking about how you were going to get to share that in the future with your little one.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser story #brock boeser fic #brock x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #canucks imagine

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ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: happy year of nessian everybody!!

***

Nesta’s glasses are on her nightstand when she wakes. Blinking blearily, she slips them on and props herself up in bed, dazed and confused. A glance at the alarm clock tells her it’s five in the morning.

How did she get here? How long has she been asleep? Reaching over to click her lamp on, her eyes tear up at the sudden stream of light. Looking around wildly, her gaze catches on something on the wall across from her bed.

It’s a painting of a shimmering autumnal forest, hung up neatly as if it’s always been there. Slowly, memories of the night before begin to seep back in.

There was a festival. A warm day that became freezing and ugly when she lost sight of Cassian, and her glasses—

Her hands reach up to touch her intact glasses. They were broken, and then there was a blur of consciousness that only became clear once again when she found Cassian—

Oh, god. Cassian. She remembers now.

But it must have been a dream. Her glasses are fine and her painting is right here, as if the anxiety of last night was all in Nesta’s head.

She pulls her glasses off, only to find brand new wiring staring back at her. Someone has carefully wired the bridge of her spectacles back together and given the whole thing a much needed polish, leaving them looking the same but different.

Slowly, she puts them back on.

It’s way too early to think about this. Kicking the covers off, Nesta realizes she’s in the same clothes she fell asleep in. When it registers that Cassian was the one who carried her up to bed, pulled her coat and boots off, and tucked her in neatly, she almost falls back into the pillows and stays there. Instead, she hurriedly changes out of her jeans and into flannel pants, hoping an early breakfast will allow her to forget the night before.

Not that she wants to forget it. She’d just— rather save those thoughts for later, when the reality of it isn't pressed up so close to her. Because really, what happened last night came straight out of her extensively detailed daydreams. She doesn’t know what to do with the fact that it wasn’t a daydream.

Padding downstairs, Nesta freezes at the entryway to the kitchen when she realizes the light over the island is on. Under the warm glow, Cassian is asleep at the marble counter, his head pillowed by his arms. An open laptop and a cold mug of half-finished coffee sits in front of him.

This isn’t good, Nesta thinks. This is the reality she's supposed to be avoiding right now.

And yet— he looks so soft, so tired. Maybe if she’s really quiet…

She slams her toe into a barstool halfway into the kitchen. Grabbing her foot and hissing, she looks up at the ceiling and curses everything that ever was. Across from her, Cassian’s body jerks, and then he’s wide awake.

“Nesta?” he blinks sleepily when he notices her. One side of his face is red from where he fell asleep on his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Nesta quickly straightens. “I could ask the same of you.”

Cassian finally looks around, taking notice of where he is. “Right,” he mutters to himself. “I was supposed to be working.”

Nesta frowns at him. “You shouldn’t pull all-nighters. Go sleep in your room.”

“Actually…” Cassian is looking at Nesta as if he’s seeing her for the first time. “I was wondering if we could talk—”

The excuse blurts out at his words: “I need to pee.” Before he can say anything else, Nesta is legging it to the hall bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

Breathing out a sigh, she slides down the wall to the floor and pulls her legs to her chest. So much for getting breakfast.

Cassian doesn’t try coming after her or knocking on the door, thank god. She stays in the bathroom until she’s positive that he’s gone back upstairs, and only then does she take the time to consider what a fucking weirdo she’s being— weirder than usual, that is. And it’s all because of him.

With the last couple of months she’s had, Nesta would think that she’s gotten better at adjusting to changes in her thorough plans. But the possibility of allowing romance back into her life is so far out of the scope of her imagination, she doesn’t know what to do with it. After all, Tomas was a fluke gone colossally wrong. Where could Cassian possibly fit into her loveless story?

Nesta chews on a nail. She needs help.

***

Cassian doesn’t try to bring up their kiss again after the incident in the kitchen. Things return to normal between them, to the point where Nesta questions if that night at the festival even happened. There’s no foreign tension or elephant in the room; there’s only Cassian and Nesta, like it has been since the beginning.

Nesta doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Either way, she’s gotten away with it.

At least that’s what she thinks, until one early morning she wakes at the feeling of a warm hand stroking lines up and down her arm.

She’s certain she’s dreaming, and is content to remain ensconced in this softness when she hears the soft murmur of her name. Her eyelids flutter open, and then comes the realization that she is very much not dreaming.

“Cassian?” Her voice is thick. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get up,” he whispers.

She clears the sleep out of her eyes, glancing around for her alarm clock. “What time is it—?”

“Five-thirty in the morning,” he says lowly. Her room is still dark, but she can make out his soft smile above her. “I want to show you something, but you’ve gotta get up, Nesta.”

Irritation floods Nesta at the realization that she only got four hours of sleep. Right now, she’s willing to strangle Cassian with her bare hands for another four.

“In what world,” she burrows deeper into her blankets, “would I ever get up before nine a.m. for you?”

“You’re not even a little bit curious about what I want to show you?” He clicks the lamp on, and Nesta hisses at the flood of light hitting her eyes. Squinting without her glasses, she can see that he’s fully dressed.

“What the hell, Cassian,” she mumbles into her pillow.

“You don’t have to get dressed,” he promises as he starts dragging the comforter away from her. “Just put your shoes and glasses on and you can sleep in the truck.”

Nesta is more awake at that, because she doesn’t hate the idea of taking a ride in Cassian’s truck. The promise of heated seats doesn’t hurt, either.

“I’m taking the blanket,” she says as she clambers out of bed.

“There’s already some in the truck,” Cassian says. “Just come on, will you?”

Grumbling, she grabs her glasses and lets him lead her downstairs and out to the truck. Shivering in her boots, Nesta wonders if she’ll have to kill Cassian if this doesn’t pay off.

“You know, we wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t called stargazing overrated last week,” Cassian says as he gets into the driver’s seat. The door slams shut behind him, blocking out the freezing wind. The engine is already warmed up and the heater is on full blast.

Nesta sighs at the heat, her clamped muscles loosening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said mornings were prettier than nights.” Cassian pulls onto the lone road that leads away from the cabin. “I brought hot chocolate, by the way.” He gestures to a thermos in the cupholder between them.

Nesta ignores him. “Just because mornings are nice doesn’t mean I want to be awake to experience them. If this is going to be one of your ungodly early workout activities…” she trails off threateningly.

“Shut up and drink your hot chocolate,” he chuckles. He shoves the thermos into her cold hands.

Nesta mutters something that Cassian chooses not to hear, but relents and takes a sip from the thermos. It’s warm and perfect, and doesn’t do her any help in keeping alert. The drive turns steep and winding, and Nesta soon realizes that they’re moving away from town and deeper into the mountains. Her curiosity is stifled by her sleepiness, however, and soon she has to lean her head against the fogged window and close her eyes, succumbing to the gentle rhythm of the journey.

Sometime later, she feels the truck reverse into a complete stop. “Wait here,” Cassian says. She hears him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the truck, but is unwilling to open her eyes and give up the last few minutes of rest she has. Time blurs, and then there’s a knock on her window. Groggily, Nesta sits up as Cassian opens the passenger side door.

“C’mon,” he urges, reaching out to pick Nesta up by the waist and setting her down on the ground. Shivering in the freezing dawn air, she looks around at where Cassian has brought them.

They’ve parked on a familiar high lookout that overlooks the entire city. In the blue light of pre-dawn, the town reminds Nesta of a sleeping giant nestled deep in the valley. She’s never been here this early before.

Taking her hand, Cassian urges her around to the back of the truck, facing the lookout.

“Oh,” Nesta says when she finally sees. “Wow.”

The truck bed is decked out more than a Christmas tree. Pillows and heavy blankets decorate the space, and strings of lights are woven throughout the whole thing. Still holding her hand, Cassian helps her climb into the bed before following after her.

“It’s only a few minutes to dawn,” Cassian says once he’s settled beside her. “I almost thought we wouldn’t make it in time.”

“You did all of this…” she says slowly, “so we could watch the sunrise?”

“Pretty much,” he nods.

Nesta might be inexperienced in a lot of things, but even she can’t deny what this is. Platonic friends don’t make a date out of watching the sunrise together, especially not if said friends have recently shared a passionate kiss. This is a romantic move.

She freezes in her spot. She wasn’t prepared for this, and now Cassian’s shoulder is painfully close to her shoulder and she doesn’t know if she should lean in or move away.

Before she can decide, Cassian says, “Watch.”

She faces forward at Cassian’s command, relieved to have something to do. Because there over the rim of the valley, the gray-blue sky is coming awake with streaks of pink and gold.

At the sight of first light, a calming sensation floods Nesta. For a few minutes, she forgets Cassian, forgets the cold. There is only dawn and— peace. A peace she’s never felt in all the times she’s driven up here before.

Golden light halos the mountains and streams over to their small little truckbed. The sky is on fire just to greet them. Nesta releases a breath, in awe or relief she doesn’t know.

“Can’t run away now.”

Nesta whirls from the sunrise to face Cassian. “What do you mean?”

He’s watching her closely. “You know, the last time I felt like this was during a certain fall festival.”

She glances away at the admission. “Right,” she mutters.

“What about you?” he nudges patiently. “Did you feel anything at the festival?”

Yes. A lot of things.

“Look,” Nesta starts. She’s about to turn him away when the sudden urge to be honest overtakes her. Something about the morning sun demands truth and vulnerability from her, and she wants to give it.

“I haven’t kissed anybody in forever,” she admits. “It was… a lot. In a very good way, at least in the moment.” She’s not sure of what she’s saying.

“Is it not good anymore?” For once, Cassian looks incapable of teasing her. Like he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing and scaring her away.

Nesta shakes her head quickly. “No, no, it’s still good. It’s just— confusing. The implications of kissing your roommate is confusing.”

Are friends who kiss each other just supposed to jump into relationships right afterward? Nesta can’t even comprehend such a thing. After all, wanting Cassian isn’t the same thing as wanting a relationship.

He chews on his lip for a long moment. “Nothing has to happen,” he finally says. “We don’t have to do anything now, or even ever. But can we at least admit that there’s something there? Because I definitely feel something for you. I have for a long time.”

That last sentence is quieter, and Nesta stiffens at the honesty of it. “Then why are you telling me just now?”

“It’s real now.”

He doesn’t have to explain what he means. She knows the feeling all too well— how the vague crush she was nursing for weeks got blown into something intense and tangible in the span of a night. How she can’t go anywhere now without tasting Cassian in her mouth.

“It’s real for me, too,” Nesta breathes.

His face breaks into a slow smile. “Good to know.”

Before Nesta can think about whether they’ll kiss again or not, Cassian tugs at her elbow, pulling her downward until they’re both laying on their backs among the pillows and blankets. He shuffles around for a bit, and then a fur throw is tossed over both of their bodies.

He turns to face her under the new warmth with a smirk. “So, was this worth getting up early for?”

Nesta looks up at the sky so she doesn't have to meet his bright eyes. “It’s better than any other time I’ve come here, that’s for sure.”

Cassian perks at that. “You’ve been here before?”

Nesta frowns. She doesn’t want those memories intermingling with this moment.

“I used to come here a lot,” she says bluntly. “In my undergrad days, to think and stuff.”

“Think about what?” he asks.

She closes her eyes, remembering. “Whether I should leave my boyfriend or not. Whether I was on the right career path or not. Whether I should drive off the lookout or not.”

Cassian huffs a laugh and then pauses at her tone. “Wait— are you serious?”

“About which part?”

“The last one.”

Nesta realizes how that came off. “It wasn’t like that,” she defends. “I was just… very tired all the time. I wanted a way out of it. I didn’t need to drive off a cliff, though.” Her mouth purses. “I just needed to cut some people out of my life. I got a lot better after that.”

Cassian is quiet for a long moment, thinking. “Did your ex make you feel like that?”

It’s Nesta’s turn to be quiet. “Yeah,” she says eventually.

“He sounds like a piece of shit.”

She raises her brows. “How do you know that?”

Cassian shrugs. “You said he didn’t like you while you were dating. That’s all I need to know.”

She’s surprised he even remembers her telling him that.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better though,” he says.

“Me too.”

The whole sky is brightened by now, and far below, people start waking up to go about their day. “What about you?” Nesta speaks up. She realizes they never talk about him, not really. “What were your exes like?”

Cassian hums. “I don’t really have any exes.”

Nesta makes a face. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs. “It means I’ve never had a real girlfriend.”

She looks at him like he’s insane. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?” With that face and body and personality? He’s playing another joke on her.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I’ve had lots of hookups, some longer than others, but none of them involved serious feelings.” He seems to realize what this means. “Actually,” he says quickly, “let’s talk about something else.”

“No.” Nesta sits up. “I want to know more.”

Cassian follows her up. “You didn’t even want to acknowledge our kiss less than ten minutes ago!”

She holds up a hand, her mind full of too many revelations at once. “So you’ve never been in love? Or come close to being in love?”

“Have you?”

“For a short time, yes,” Nesta nods. How else would she have stayed with Tomas for so long?

Cassian must realize what she means, because he clenches his jaw and looks away. “Well, I haven’t. I might have had a crush or two on my friends in high school, but I outgrew them quick enough.”

Nesta lets this new information sink in, feeling her perspective of Cassian shifting permanently. “And where do I fit in? In all of this?”

He props his elbows on his knees, lips turned downward. “I never thought about it until you made it sound so important. I thought neither of us knows what we’re doing.”

Nesta scoffs. “I never said I know what I’m doing.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Can we leave it at that, then? Take things slow while we figure out—” He waves an arm between them. “You know.”

There aren’t words for Nesta’s relief. Here she was worried she’d be pushed into something she wasn’t ready for, when Cassian is really just as lost as she is. For once, she doesn’t feel like he has the upper hand. For once, she’s not the extraneous variable.

She clears her throat. “Hey, Cassian?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for fixing my glasses.” The words have been sitting in her stomach since the morning after the festival. “And for the painting.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

***

Nesta’s first paycheck arrives the week before Thanksgiving.

“Wow,” she says for the third time in three minutes, gaping at the account balance on her phone. “That’s a lot of numbers.”

She didn’t keep track of how many hours she worked for Night Court Inc. this month, but she knows it wasn’t enough to justify this amount of money. It’s enough to pay for her car and endo treatments and then some.

She can’t remember the last time she had this much extra money to spend. She doesn’t think she ever did.

Cassian comes up behind her in the kitchen and peeks over her shoulder. He whistles lowly at the deposit amount, but ruffles her hair and beams proudly. “First paycheck. What are you gonna use it for?”

Nesta stares at the number on her phone screen and knows what she wants. She’s wanted— needed— it for a while, but her talks with Cassian have helped her realize… “I’m getting a therapist.”

***

a/n: hey everybody, i'm popping in to kindly ask y'all to be patient with the slower updates from now on, because i know exactly where i want this story to go but i don't want to rush the journey. i also want time to work on other fics and my original wips in the new year, and i can’t do that unless i lower some of the expectations for these fic updates. that being said, i’m so unbelievably grateful for all your support up until now!!! i don’t want you to feel forgotten. i’m very much still involved with and working on this story, and the good stuff is just about to begin! up next: the holidays bring about some revelations for everybody.

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta #ncssianwrites #nessian fic

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Kiro’s Inspiration Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 灵感之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

An early birthday gift to the embodiment of sunshine, @moondusks :>

[ This date was released in CN on 7 December 2020 ]

A pleasantly warm and light breeze lifts the muslin curtains, bringing with it the fresh atmosphere of early winter.

Lemon yellow sunlight filters lazily through the trees, casting shadows on the window and carrying the scent of peppermint.

It’s an incomparably ordinary, and incomparably comfortable afternoon.

It’s very suitable for heading out and casting aside one’s cares - laying down on a grass patch, basking in the warm sunlight.

Or perhaps taking a stroll along the street, and sitting down in a cafe one has been longing to visit.

That’s what Kiro and I originally planned to do.

However, the cruel reality is...

MC: Why does this proposal have to be done by next week ahhhh--

Kiro: Why can’t I write this song properly--

MC: Why do people need to be exploited by work--

Kiro: [sighs] And why are people constrained by inspiration--

Because of a sudden program, I have no choice but to work overtime.

And Kiro, who is about to record a new album, has remained dissatisfied towards the title track.

Due to the pressures of reality, we have to give up our original plans of having a fulfilling and happy date.

The both of us are working overtime at home.

Kiro: [groans] Farewell, my rosy weekend. Goodbye, my donuts and soup dumplings which have vanished into thin air.

MC: And brown sugar milk coffee, taro pies, and lava cakes...

Even though we sing the same tune, complaining dejectedly about not being able to go out, the both of us work non-stop on our tasks.

I can hear the crisp sound of Kiro tapping his pen rhythmically against the music stand. Occasionally, his soft humming can also be heard.

Seeing him working hard and struggling with himself, the corners of my lips lift upwards.

Even though we’re unable to head outside to do something interesting, it isn’t a bad thing to be together at home like this, channelling effort into our differing goals.

In some way, this should also count as a type of date.

I smile, adjusting my posture on the bean bag so that it’s more comfortable for typing, then continue immersing myself in the battle against the program proposal.

The proposal I’m working on is extremely urgent, and has to be settled by next week.

Not only that, but this sudden program has an importance accompanied by a non-proportional preparation timing.

And during such a period of high stress, the goddess of inspiration, who typically shows concern for me, has gone on a faraway vacation, and has completely vanished.

I have trouble writing. When I completely lose my train of thought, I exchange helpless glances with the few words on the screen.

In the end, I give up and pause the hands which have been maltreating the keyboard, preparing to pour myself a glass of water, and attempt to change my mood.

Lifting my head, I subconsciously glance in Kiro’s direction.

The curtains separate the room from sunlight, casting Kiro in a faint shadow as he leans against the window while composing a song.

Busy writing the new song, he hasn’t had time to maintain the state of his hair.

Finding stray hairs a hindrance as they block his vision, Kiro holds a rubber band in his mouth, combing his hair to the back, and ties it into a small ponytail.

Those azure eyes stare at the music score in concentration. They are as clear and bright as always, but lack the flash of light he usually has when inspiration strikes.

Reference materials and abandoned drafts are scattered all over, which seem to isolate him on a higher platform which I’m unable to reach.

Completely engrossed in creating his work, even his languid sitting posture exudes a cold and lonely feeling for some reason.

For a moment, I feel slightly dazed.

Kiro: Let me guess. Is Miss Chips lacking inspiration, and having trouble writing the proposal?

Kiro suddenly removes his earplugs, turning his head to look at me.

He shows me a brilliant smile, and the room is once again filled with sunlight.

MC: How did you know?

He stands up as well, stretching himself, turning back into the him that I’m most familiar with.

It’s as though the him of just a few seconds ago was simply an illusion surfacing from work-induced stress.

Kiro: Hmm... since just now, the sound of your keyboard has been intermittent, unlike how smooth it usually is.

While he speaks, Kiro walks to the snack cabinet and rifles through it carefully, as though he’s a small squirrel searching for a pine cone from the hole of a tree in winter.

Kiro: So I thought - Miss Chips is probably just like me, entering a bottleneck at work.

He splits the low-fat and sugar-free healthy snack into half, placing it into my hand.

Kiro: A little reward for the hardworking you. Now, do you feel more motivated?

MC: It sounds quite embarrassing... but I don’t think I can work any harder.

I munch on the snack which gives me absolutely no happiness, saying this with a sullen expression.

MC: The presentation is next week, but I still have no idea how to go about writing the proposal. Right now, I just want to turn into an ostrich and curl up into a ball, avoiding the presentation meeting in a few days... and also avoiding my unmotivated self.

I turn the laptop towards him, letting him see the lonely and piteous 235 words in the document.

MC: I even want to knock on my brain forcefully, checking to see if new ideas will appear.

Kiro: Hmm... I see...

Kiro curls his finger, tapping it gently against my forehead. He leans closer to my ear and asks a question.

Kiro: Nice to meet you, Miss Chips’ inspiration. May I know if you’re at home?

Following his action, I close my eyes and sense it carefully.

After a short silence, I furrow my brows and lift my head, looking at him bitterly.

MC: Hello, the user you’re calling is not in service...

Kiro reaches out to rub the area between my eyebrows, smoothening out the creases on my face.

After ensuring that I’m no longer a “bun”, he sighs, laying down next to me.

[Note] Chinese buns (包子 - “bao zi”) look like this i.e. they look like wrinkles:

Kiro: [sighs] Actually, I’m the same as you. There’s a song I especially wish to write, and I really like the concept and composition. I want to try writing a song on understanding and interpreting the theme of “love” from my own perspective.

He pauses, lifting his fringe with a wry smile. After give it a forceful rub, he causes his originally tidy hairstyle to become fuzzy.

Kiro: But no matter how I change it, I’m not satisfied. I keep feeling as though something is missing from the music. There’s no soul.

I untie the string, using a hand to smoothen his hair, helping him tie it up properly again.

MC: Whether it’s “My Treasure” or the song we wrote together last Christmas, aren’t they very incredible? They’re tender and sweet - it’s as though they can be sung into the hearts of every listener, enabling them to recollect the best memories.

Kiro: That won’t do.

Kiro flips over and sits up, his eyes serious.

Kiro: Those songs write about us. They write about you. I have several thousand ways to write about how adorable you are, but I don’t know which timbre I should use to face myself.

Not realising how potent his words are in causing one to blush, Kiro sighs once again after speaking, laying back down.

Kiro: [sighs] Looks like this time, we’ve both chosen subjects which are very difficult for us.

Kiro: Since we’ve both sunk into a major crisis--

Kiro: Want to try Kiro’s special, secret recipe and see if it can sort out our thinking?

Kiro shoots me a wink.

MC: Sure. Do I need to do anything?

Kiro: At this stage, all you have to do is sit here.

While Kiro speaks, he picks up the abandoned drafts he had casually thrown on the floor earlier, using them to enclose us within a square frame.

Kiro: This is the thinking box that we’re trying to escape from.

He sets down the final sheet of paper, completing this “box”, his tone light.

Kiro: Right now, we’re both locked in it.

MC: In that case, will the superhero help me break this box, so we can have a breakthrough together?

Kiro: Nope.

Kiro steps out of the square frame made out of drafts, reaching out to seize Cello, who is sleeping soundly on the cat climbing shelf. Then, he places it in my arms.

Cello: Meow?

Kiro nods in satisfaction, then jogs over to the kitchen, bringing over some fruits.

Under the confused gaze of both me and Cello, he makes several trips in and out, bringing over soft cushions, comfortable blankets, and two cups of sugar-free hot chocolate.

Finally, Kiro shifts another bean bag over, and sits down beside me.

Kiro: I’m incredibly sorry to tell you that even a superhero can’t find a way to jump out of this box.

Somewhat pleased with himself, he takes me into his arms with one hand, letting me lean on him.

Kiro: But at the very least, I can keep you company in this box. And together, we can see what exactly in this box has left us so bewildered that we’re unable to get out even after such a long time.

As he speaks, he tousles Cello’s fuzzy head, and it releases a comfortable meow.

Kiro: We can also decorate it a little, so the box is more comfortable.

MC: Pfft...

I can’t help but laugh. The sense of dejectedness due to work earlier seems to be cleared up with his actions.

I reach out, pointing at a corner of the ceiling in a joking manner.

MC: See that? Over there, there’s an MC who just can’t write a proposal, and she’s currently curled up and for waiting for mushrooms to sprout on her... I don’t know how to deal with it.

Kiro nods in understanding, pointing at a corner of the room.

Kiro: Ladies and gentlemen, look here. Here is a Kiro whose inspiration is stuck, and is currently drawing circles.

MC: When you put it like that, it sounds pretty cute...

While he speaks, I more or less understand why Kiro went to such trouble to do this.

Kiro: That’s right. To me, whether it’s that ostrich-like MC, or that MC who has mushrooms growing on her, I want to hug all of them properly.

Kiro: And then tell her solemnly - that you’re already very amazing. Even if you don’t think you’re good enough, I still like you very much.

Kiro: Just as much as a little bear in winter liking the warm blue sky and green grass.

As he speaks, he tightens his grip on my hand, leaning his chin on top of my head.

Surrounding me are soft blankets and cushions. In my arms is a cat which has gone back to sleep.

Behind me, Kiro’s body temperature and scent encase me tenderly, making me feel so contented that I want to release a joyful sound together with Cello.

I close my eyes in happiness, nuzzling the crook of Kiro’s neck.

The things that were bothering me just a second ago, weighing me down with stress and emotions and leaving me unable to breathe, vanish like smoke and disperse like clouds.

It’s as though I’ve awakened from an incredibly long nightmare, discovering that sunlight is illuminating my surroundings, and that a cup of hot chocolate is waiting at the bedside.

MC: Kiro, why do you always know of such ingenious methods?

I lift my head to look at him, gazing at that blue colour which seeps into one’s heart, and the golden colour traced by sunlight.

Our foreheads lean against each other, and he smiles as he responds.

Kiro: You were the one who taught me these things. Why are you asking me instead?

MC: Me?

Kiro: Last time, there were numerous occasions when I felt I couldn’t create works that were good enough, and I’d start to doubt myself. I’d lock myself in a corner, and start having internal fights with myself.

Along with his words, it’s as though I see the Kiro I was barely acquainted with back then, and how he had endured several days and nights of work.

He had locked himself up in a room, helpless and frantic, not leaving any space for himself to breathe.

Kiro: But during those times, you were always by my side. You told me that no matter how I was, you’d like me all the same.

As he speaks, he taps on my laptop.

Kiro: Actually, it’s the same today.

Kiro: Don’t just look at how I appear now. Actually, I’m in a terrible state.

Kiro: On one hand, I’m forcing myself to finish this work quickly. On the other hand, I’m so irritated and annoyed at myself, who lacks creativity.

Kiro: There were many times when I wanted to just give up.

Kiro: But...

He lifts a strand of my hair, twirling it around his fingertip. In the end, he pulls it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.

Kiro: Each time I heard your intermittent yet continuous typing sounds, I’d tell myself that next to me, you’re still working hard.

Kiro: My Miss Chips is also feeling perplexed, but she’s still persevering in work.

Kiro: So I told myself - how could I give up before you did?

Kiro: I must definitely persevere a little longer, so you see how dashing I am.

Kiro relates this softly at my ear. His tone, which harbours a smile, sounds as though he’s depicting a treasure.

I indulge myself in his arms, greedily enjoying the present tranquility and warm atmosphere for a while longer.

I always feel that Kiro is a star whenever I go off course. He always illuminates the pathway, pointing the way forward for me.

Actually, without even realising it, it’s because we’ve seen each others’ light that we could press on.

Encouraging each other, and feeling the way forward in the darkness.

Until we break through the predicament together.

MC: Thank you, my superhero. I think I’ve regained the ability to fight a little more.

A soft chuckle brushes my ear. Then, a warm and gentle touch is planted on my lower jaw.

Reminiscent of the whiskers of a kitten brushing past, spreading into a plain of sweetness.

Kiro: At your service anytime, my Miss Chips.

With that, Kiro and I sit in the “box” together, resuming our work.

He lays on the ground, scribbling and drawing on the music sheet, while I hug the laptop to myself, working hard to squeeze out a proposal.

The typing sounds on the laptop remain intermittent as before, but no longer have the sense of repression and frustration from earlier.

With his presence, I actually manage to complete a draft of the proposal without realising it.

It isn’t excellent, and there are many areas which require editing. Nevertheless, I’ve already tided over the most difficult period.

I move my neck and shoulders, then shift a little closer to Kiro.

Same as before, Kiro is wholly absorbed in the music sheet in his hands.

Even though I can’t tell his current progress, based on his expression and posture, he should be the same as me, breaking free from the lowest point of production.

I observe him quietly for a long time. In the end, my playfulness triumphs, and I think of pulling a tiny prank on him.

Lifting Kiro’s right hand, I burrow into his arms.

MC: Surprise~

Probably not expecting me to do this, Kiro is left dumbfounded. However, he subconsciously props himself up and hugs me.

Kiro: Miss Chips?

MC: A little reward for the hardworking musician.

Saying this, I tilt my head upwards and give him a light peck on the chin.

My sudden attack and the closing of distance between us enables me to successfully capture the faint redness on Kiro’s face.

Kiro: ...mm, how’s your proposal doing?

MC: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

Just like this, I wrap my arms around his neck, tousling his soft, golden coloured hair.

Because of my action, the ponytail is now in disarray.

I simply hook my fingers underneath Kiro’s rubber band, untying it, feeling the softness of his hair in between my fingers.

MC: How’s your song doing?

Kiro: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

He mimics my words, inserting one earplug into my ear.

A somewhat rough demo occupies my hearing.

I close my eyes, immersed in the music he has given to me. My fingers twirl the wire of the earpiece, tracing the rhythm.

Kiro: Although it isn’t done yet, the overall main key won’t change.

It’s a somewhat slow tune.

It's quiet, and even brings with it a heavy and melancholic melody. It’s reminiscent of a self-reflection, and also like a careful recount.

Kiro: Even though this tune is a little sombre, I still wrote it.

Kiro: Because I know you’d definitely say that you like such songs too.

MC: Of course.

I say this with certainty. He smiles and lowers his head, the tips of our noses gently touching.

MC: Kiro, I came across a saying once.

MC: The process of writing a song is actually a writer’s conversation with himself.

MC: Although I don’t know what you said to yourself, if this melody is your answer, I like it very much.

Our drifting breaths channel a temperature slightly higher than the sunlight.

MC: Including these slightly heavy portions - I like them very much.

Saying this, I crinkle my eyes, humming along with the melody from the earpiece.

Kiro releases a sigh, hugging me tightly.

Kiro: [sighs] Why does this song become so sweet when you hum it?

Before I can respond, Kiro continues.

Kiro: [laughs] It must be because MC is a jar of honey.

He nods with force, seeming to be very satisfied with this answer. Then, it’s as though something occurs to him, and he plants a kiss on my forehead.

Kiro: See? It’s very sweet.

MC: What...

I laugh, pretending to push at his chest.

MC: Looks like I have to stay a little further away from you next time, so you won’t become overweight.

Kiro: Hehe, it’s already too late! My feelings come in large portions, so it’s too late to say that.

Kiro presses me against the woollen blanket, embracing me with even more strength than before.

Kiro: Miss Chips has already been firmly held onto by me.

Kiro: I’ll leave a stamp.

While he says this, he nibbles the side of my neck half-jokingly, and half-declaratory.

He doesn’t use strength, but the electric-like sensation makes me forget how to breathe for a moment.

The charmingly tepid air leaves my cheeks burning crimson.

Kiro’s hug is tight, yet very careful. It’s as though he’s embracing the one and only treasure in the entire world.

MC: It’s not like I can really run away...

Not minding my soft mumbling, another kiss descends on the shell of my ear, as though seeking a confirmation.

His breaths lift up strands of stray hair near my ear. They brush against my earlobe, as scorching as his lips.

Kiro: MC, I’m actually timid and a little childish.

Kiro buries his head in my shoulder, speaking softly.

Kiro: When it comes to things I don’t like, I’ll always think of hiding them and locking them up. I won’t see them, and I won’t let other people see them.

Kiro: But if it’s you...

I secretly take a few deep breaths, cradling his face a little stiffly yet carefully, tilting my head upwards.

MC: Thank you for trusting me.

Kiro: ...

Kiro’s eyes widen slightly, and his lips part and close. It’s as though he wants to say something, but returns to a blank.

At the end of a short silence, Kiro speaks solemnly.

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song.

He lowers his voice slightly. Even though this sentence is as light as a feather, I know that he’s as serious as making a vow.

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song, and sing various versions of myself to you in the future.

Kiro: Even the parts which are heavier, and the parts I’m unwilling to face myself.

MC: Mm. I’ll definitely listen earnestly.

Following the trail of his spine, I stroke his back lightly, giving him my promise.

Kiro: I know.

Kiro: It’s precisely because no matter what melody it is, you’ll definitely sing it into a song akin to honey.

Kiro: Which is why I have such courage.

I no longer speak, only giving him a serious nod.

Both his breathing and heart beats can be heard, regular and steady.

Kiro: Since we’ve reached an agreement, should I leave another stamp?

Kiro’s voice is once again light-hearted, even carrying with it a twinge of slyness.

MC: Wait! The most important thing now should be noting down the hard-earned inspiration before it goes away!

I grip several music sheets at the side, pressing them against his chest, attempting to flee from his arms.

MC: Get to work quickly!

Kiro: Why are you like this?

Kiro pouts, showing me his signature, puppy-eyed expression of dejection.

MC: I won’t be duped by your gaze again. I’m going to become a merciless supervisor, so you can finish your work before the deadline!

Seeing that his plan has been foiled, Kiro simply gives up “pretending”. With a smile, he grips my struggling wrist, pressing it to the side.

MC: Where’s your professionalism? Could it...

A prolonged kiss seals up the words I haven’t spoken.

Kiro: It’s exactly because of my professionalism that I can say with certainty...

Kiro smiles, his sapphire-like eyes radiating an azure colour even more eye-catching than the clear skies of winter.

Perhaps he hasn’t realised it himself, but he looks at me with the most burning and clear gaze, sticking out the tip of his tongue. Like a dragonfly flitting across water, he wets his lower lip.

Kiro: Before my inspiration vanishes, there’s still time to act coquettishly with my favourite Miss Chips.

Phone calls: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro

157 notes · View notes

mallowbees · 5 years ago

Text

4,555 words

POV: Logan centric

Characters: All ts sides

Warnings: Let me know if i need to add any!

From the anon writing prompts^!

-----

‘Waking up as a cat, however, was a surprising first.’

-----

This was… less than ideal. Hoping down from the edge of the blue duvet onto the floor, Logan stared down in disdain all four of his paws landed with a thud. This was not the first weird situation he had found himself in, being an incorporeal figment of someones personality living without the all the grounding rules of reality often resulted in odd occurrences on occasion ranging from simple to bizarre.

Waking up as a cat, however, was a surprising first.

Logan's tail flicked as he padded through his room. His desk, usually only to his hip, now towered a foot or two above him as he stood on the dark blue rug below. Faintly he could hear the noise of a conversion from down stairs with acute clarity, but he couldn't make out a word being said. He could only hypothesize his sudden transformation had possibly altered his senses as well as his physical form. That seemed to be the case based on his earlier experience 7 minutes, 46 seconds ago and counting.

Logan had tried shifting into a human form upon awakening. Confused and dazed buried under his blankets, that he quickly realized where much larger than usual, or he was, as it turns out, much smaller. However this proved not to be like a simple wardrobe change or a shift that he would under usual circumstance be able to complete. He took a few minute to asses the situation after that.

Now staring up at the deep blue almost black of his door, the next most rational step was to attempt to have Roman change him back. As he usually seemed to be the causation of these things, though not always intentionally. He would also have to avoid Patton preferably, lest he agitate the others allergies with his current form, or worse, Patton begin doting on him. Logan's fur ruffled.

Honing in on the gold door knob, he knew he should have no trouble jumping up to it with the cats average jumping height without running being 5 feet, but the matter of actually opening the door would provide to be difficult without hands. He could just meow loudly at the door until someone came up, but he’d prefer to save that for a, ‘last resort’.

Logan lowered himself to the ground, calculating the general trajectory he could need so he wouldn't just throw himself against the wood. He leaned forward and down on his paws and wiggled in anticipation; He lunged. Logan was air borne, he swatted the doorknob hitting it with his paw, bound off the door with his back paws and he was back on the floor. He regathered himself from the sudden burst of energy. First attempts are often not the successful try. Logan backed up a bit further from his original trajectory point, and began to try again.

A time and multiple tries later, Logan stood proudly in the now open and somewhat scratched up doorway. It had admittedly taken longer than he had anticipated, having gotten distracted more with actually trying to catch the doorknob rather than open it having not been accounted for, but he was now free from his own room. And free to go in search of Roman.

Padding down the hallways past the various doors of bedrooms, he could hear everything much louder. Along with conversation, the hum of the refrigerator and tv was also more noticeable than on average. Slinking to the edge of the stairway, Logan could tell the tones of the voices were Patton and Roman, as well as a movie playing. He tail flicked to the side. Having both of them together would provide to be quite the obstacle if he was to get to Roman, and the living-room was a very open to anyone who happened to walk through, which was inconvenient for not bringing attention to himself too. He could wait for them to finish the program they were watching and hide out by the stairs up in the hall, hearing the music number, people laughing, and a door opening on the show he couldn't tell what it was to estimate how long was left but-

Logan froze in the air as he was suddenly lifted up from the floor. Chattering indignantly he found himself suddenly face to face with a confused Virgil. Virgil held Logan in his arms, pulling him to his chest facing him so he was no longer suspended in air. He seemed to ask a question as he lifted a hand gentle up to Logan’s face. It seemed, despite the sudden rude attack of picking Logan up unprompted, Virgil did intend to bond with the random cat he found in the hall, in this case. He wiggled and bonked Virgil’s hand with his head, intending to get him to withdraw it, as there was no need to extend an offer for trust, as Logan already trusted Virgil.

However given the chuckle he suddenly felt rumble from Virgil’s chest he quickly realized his own mistake in cat behavior and went to do anything else, but he was suddenly overtaken by a warm contentment as a hand was placed on his head, beginning to pet him. Logan closed his eyes leaning into it and purred. Very loudly, even to his own ears. Virgil seemed to make some sort of surprised delighted noise and momentarily withdrew his hand with it; Before Logan could think better of himself, he was quickly swatting and pulling Virgil’s hand back to him, rubbing against his shirt.

Virgil said something but he didn't really take note as his ears were stroked, he couldn't understand his words at the moment anyway. Logan briefly had a fleeting thought that this cat transformation was influencing him stronger than he had initially realized, but it was long forgotten with his own figurative motor going and the warmth of Virgil’s hold.

Logan had completely melted in a grinning Virgil’s grip by the time he was carried down stairs.

Roman and Patton laid in a partially destroyed blanket fort, now just sitting on the piles of pillows and blankets on the couch, singing along as Moana played on screen.

“Yo guys, since when do we have a cat?”

Patton’s head immediately swung around, nearly launching himself off the couch, his foot getting caught on a light blue comforter, his face lighting up. “Cat?! Oh my gosh we have a cat? I love him can I hold them?!”

Roman blinked in surprise at the new arrival, the slower of the two to respond verbally. He swiveled in his sitting position to look on as Patton stood up making grabby hands to the cat in Virgil’s arms. “I… have no idea where that cat came from, where on earth did you find-”

“Him I think?” Patton now had the cat in his arms, holding him almost like you would hold a baby; The cat just purred.

Roman nodded. “-him.”

Virgil shrugged as he shifted the cat to a better suited grip in Patton’s arms. “He was just standing staring down from the top of the stairs when I came out of my room, I’m not sure where he was before that.”

Roman hummed as he got up from the couch and approached the other two, taking a moment to give the black cat some brief loving pets as well. The cat merped when the sides finally stopped, blinking up at them with deep bright blue eyes that seemed to come out of a daze.

“Well that's certainly odd! Do ya think he came from the imagination maybe?” Patton gaze turned to roman.

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, I’m usually pretty good at keeping the door shut Pat,” He stated, before wincing. “But it wouldn't be the first time I accidentally left it open however, I will admit.”

Patton gave Roman a reassuring pat on the shoulder with his non cat holding arm. “Don't worry about it kiddo! It happens!”

“Yeah and when it happens it usually cause a mess that takes like a week to clean up.” Virgil countered before putting his hands up. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Roman waved him off sheepishly.

“Uhh, anyway do you think maybe hes one of those, what are they called, those things of your that just kind of, pop up?” He grimaced slightly. “Bad explanation.”

“Oh oh!” Patton interjected. “Like those glowy flowers we had for while growing in the storage closet?”

“Drifting daydreams?” Roman gazed over the cat with a skeptical eye. “Perhaps? Though he doesn't seem particularly sparkly, or dream like. And I haven't really been think of any cats more than usual.”

Virgil hummed in consideration.

Roman just stared down the cat, the cat stared disgruntled back, having been watching the three.

Patton cut through the pause. “Soo, can we keep him?” He held up the cat carefully, a bursting smile on his face. The cat looked displeased.

His expression dimmed as Roman and Virgil shared a look. Roman grimacing and Virgil’s face a mix of sympathy and ‘i don't think this is a good idea, we care barely take care of ourselves, we cant take care of a cat’

“I don't think this is a good idea, we can barely take care of ourselves, we cant take care of a cat.” Virgil said.

“But!! He’s only gonna be here for a little while probably, and we cant just leave him to fend on his own in the mindpalace!”

“Pat you are literally allergic to cats, you could inhale his fur and die.” With that Virgil looked uncomfortably aware that Patton was the one holding the cat.

“Well, more likely sneeze like you’ve had pixie dust thrown in your face, but I agree with nightmare before christmas over here. That doesn't seem like a grand idea as far as keeping him. But! I also don't think we should just let him roam.”

Patton tilted his head. The cat shifted slightly in his hold so it was much looser. “Well what can we do with him then?”

“We could put him in the imagination with-”

“Woah!”

“Ah!’

“Great beard of Zeus!”

And with a hiss the cat darted out of Patton’s arms, skid across the floor passed Virgil’s shoes, and bolted down the hallway of the mindscape.

–

Logan ran, the shouts of the others behind him as he zoomed down one of the many connecting hallways as fast as his paws could carry him. The only thought going through his mind saying run, the sudden restless energy seemingly coming out of nowhere, and hearing at least one of the others following after him only spurred him on. He skittered past the bedroom doorway, sliding on the laminate and knocking his own bedroom door back closed as he ran straight into Roman’s open door.

Entering the large room Logan flew by the papers covering the floor on hopped up onto the desk, almost sliding off the ledge as sheets went flying off instead. He could still hear the others calling out for him but not anywhere close, presumable having lost track of him. The moment seemed to subside as the tension started to ebb from Logan. He reflected, dumbfound, at his behavior and sat down on the desk corner, absentmindedly fixing his fur with his paw. This momentary lapse in logical thinking, in human logical thinking, flustered him at his lack of self impulse control as a cat.

The others had seemed to be debating something about him while he was in Patton’s hold, and he could almost feel the conflict in the room when instinct of some sort, he could only guess, encouraged him to bolt. An odd thing to warrant running at full speed from a non-threatening situation, but his cat body supposedly disagreed with his rational brain.

His ear twitched as he heard the voices seeking him, now getting further way. Going down a different hallway it seemed. Patton cooing for him and Roman calling out fading away, Virgil likely with them as well, just less vocal. Now presented with an unaccounted for minor difficulty in being turned back, the best course of action would be to stay as far away from from the others to avoid physical contact with the other to reduce the amount of stimuli that could induce a reaction, while also somehow alerting them to his unfortunate transformation.

Perhaps he could write some sort of message, that would be the most straight to point way to inform them, without being physically direct. Looking around Roman’s desk, the cherry wood stained with paint and markers, it was only covered in one or two papers that were left on its top and a pair of scissors. Looking around the room it seemed he had knocked the pen holder off as well in his earlier haste. Logan realized while he had been in Roman’s room many times prior, he had very seen it from this angle. Being a cat sitting on his desk, obviously not. Though the room itself had not changed at all.

It was still the same large room, white cream walls and intricate swirling wall trim. The desk he was sat upon, the vanity adjacent to it, and the bookcase all appeared as they usually did, and dull white glow from the fairytale-like door to the imagination cast over them. The fairy lights on the walls cast as a main light source however, tacked on the walls next to Roman’s ‘prince’ bed, a canopy bed with tall cream and gold drapery, hanging down in twisting towers of fabric, soft and delicate, easily ripped. A thing that could easily offer him the highest vantage point in the room.

Logan involuntarily found himself lowering slightly. The fine sparkly drapery was perfectly climbable, he could just make his way up and see the room much better. Surely, he could find a pen much easier that way. Logan wiggled and a resounding ‘no!’ echoing from behind him as he pounced and launched himself up onto the curtains, claws digging in as he quickly began pulling himself up them.

He panicked as one of his claws got caught up in the fabric. Logan wiggled wildly and flailed his paw in all directions trying to untangle himself. He could feel hands attempt to pluck him from his mess and began to wiggle more. he was caught and something was grabbing him and he did not like this. He was lifted upwards and his claw came out from the drape, frenzied he did what felt natural and now latched onto the hand holding him so he wouldn't fall. He was dropped to the floor while at a loud exclamation came from the side who had been muttering as he tried to release him. Logan, now on the floor, meet Roman frazzled eyes with his own and fluffed up as large as he could.

Roman glared down at him for a moment, saying a word Logan could only guess was a swear before his shoulders slumped and he sighed, holding his slightly scratched hand. Logan stood his ground as he slowly held his hands up and conjured a water bottle and a band-aid. Roman didn't seem to be trying to hold him now and Logan felt a pang of regret as his heart rate came down and he watched Roman tend the wound. Before he knew it Logan padded over to the wary creative side and rubbed against his leg. Roman huffed but gave him a quick gentle pat.

His ears perked up, turning his head as Virgil entered the room, quickly followed by Patton. He skittered back a bit as Pat rushed pasted him to Roman who just laughed and waved him off, showing the small scratches. Virgil said something, the only one still standing in the doorway.

Logan suddenly remembered his search for a pen now that everyone was in the room. Running over to the scattered pens and papers, he heard Roman groan, as he had apparently just noticed that specific mess he had caused, as Logan picked a pen up in his mouth. Not the most ideal thing but it would do. However, it was quickly pulled out of his mouth by Virgil. Logan hissed up at him in annoyance, Virgil hissed back. As Virgil reached down to pick him up and presumably move him away from the pens, Logan decided he was not getting picked up again.

The cat bolted once more, a frustrated yell from one of them as he narrowly dodged Virgil’s grip, practically using him as a spring board in the process. Virgil probably would have been successful in grabbing again if he hadn't slipped on the pens scattered on the floor. There was a concerned call from a conflicted Patton but Logan was off once again.

No one had followed him this time it seemed, Logan noted. He had concluded he likely couldn't get any pens with the other sides around. Bur looking around the kitchen all pens seemed to be put away, not that there logically should be pens in the kitchen anyway, but there usually was. Any and all of his personal pens were stored in is room, which the door was now closed to, thanks to himself.

Claws tapping on the tile Logan leapt up on the marble counter-top. There wasn't anything up there either, aside from a few unwashed dishes. The room still smelled like microwaved thai noodle leftovers too. His ears flattened as the smell was much stronger as a cat. He could try doing things to indicate who he was, but that would require going right back up the others again, and he wasn't sure about trying that direct of a method after those other stunts he had pulled.

Logan's eyes drifted to the far hallway, this one a little darker. He could hear loud cackling laughing coming from down that way, and it wasn't a movie playing either.

Perhaps the others had some spare pens lying about.

Logan strode down the hallway, which usually seemed much darker than it actually was now that he was in it, likely dew to his current senses. The sound of Remus cackling somewhere down the way getting louder. The hard wood floors transitioned to light grey carpeting and Logan entered the other half of the mindscape. It seemed Remus was somewhere to his left from what he could tell, so Logan took a right and found himself in the living area.

Scanning the floor from next to the coffee table, he couldn't see anything that would indicate any writing utensils laying about. He quickly scaled up the side of the dark grey couch poising himself on the arm of it to get a better view. It was immaculately clean in here, much more organized than their current mess.

Searching around the room once more from his perch there still didn't appear to be any stray items he could write with that were visible. Going across the cushions he hoped down from the other side of the couch. While perhaps not the option with the best success rate, his next option he planned to take, was searching the next most likely place he would be able to find something to communicate with, where most of the sides personal stuff was stored. The bedrooms.

Logan was usually someone who respected the other sides privacy in his own option. But he found as a foot tall ball of fur and claws he didn't find himself caring much. Walking into the corridor he could still hear Remus, who was clearly doing, something, in his room, and he didn't intend to tread into it with him still there. So Logan now stood in-front of the door on the other wall, a pale yellow door that was thankfully cracked open slightly, Deceit’s room.

Slipping through the small opening Logan immediately froze. Staring into the lush room, he found himself making direct eye-contact with a startled Deceit who kept his gaze as his office chair slowly stopped spinning. Logan's ears flattened but he took a cautious step forward. Deceit tilted his head to the right before slowly holding his hand down and out to Logan.

He didn't seem particularly bothered by the sudden addition to his room surprisingly, one would think deceit would be more bothered by an intrusion of privacy. Regardless of how unbothered he seemed, Logan wasn't going to take any chances of getting to close, lest he get pet again. He padded past him and hopped up on the desk. Deceit made some sort of remark but otherwise did nothing about him invading his space. There was a tank with a snake right in-front of the desk inlayed in the wall that he hadn't noticed from the floor: Logan sniffed the glass but he couldn't see the snake inside at the moment. Looking around the other edge of the glass he searched to see if he could see the snake. The door suddenly banged open and Logan fluffed up. Pushing himself to the corner of the desk, Logan watched Deceit turn around with Remus now in the room.

–

“Hey double dee!” Remus exclaimed slamming open the door easily with a wide grin. “Guess what I just-”

He blinked in surprise as his ivy eyes locked in on an un-amused deceit and some sort of small grey puff on the corner of Deceits desk. Hissing, not at deceit, but at him.

“Congratulations Remus, you've now startled the cat.”

“The cat?” Remus parroted bewildered.

“No, the dog that is clearly here.” Deceit drawled. “Yes the cat Remus” He said as he rolled back a bit to give some space to the cat pressed against the wall. “He made him self at home a minute ago after slinking through my door.”

“But that can’t, that doesn't,-” Remus looked genuinely stumped, somewhere between recognition and conflict on his face. “-but Roman’s still in the light sides commons?”

Deceit’s eyes narrowed as he quirked a brow, leaning forward in his chain, now intrigued. “Oh? What does this have to do with Roman?”

“I was gonna turn him into a cat! I made a potion and everything yesterday!” He gestured to the door behind him. “I used some dragon bones and swap slug water and magic powder and a piece of his hair and everything!” He lamented dramatically. “But I was just down there and hes still the same boring him! I was gonna watch emo and debbie downer freak out about it but everyone was down stairs except for logic!”

Deceit froze for a minute, what had just clicked in his head clearly clicking in Remus’s head too as his face lit up with realization.

“Remus,”

“Dee dee.” He grinned guilty.

“Where did you get the piece of hair you used for your potion?”

“Off their kitchen table...”

“And who exactly was last at the table?”

“Roman, i thought, but there was a jar of crofters sitting out too...”

They both turned to the cat, who still couldn't understand them.

Deceit leaned back to face the somewhat calm cat, staring back at them with curious eyes.

“Logan?”

He certainly reacted to that.

---

Logan jolted as Deceit very clearly said his name to his face.

Remus cackled loudly practically wheezing while Deceit gave him an un-amused glance. Logan looked rapidly between the two for some insight. Deceit tried to say something to Logan as he usually would.

He tilted his head as he spoke, still not understand what was being said beyond a single word. Deceit turned to Remus and asked him something before looking back to him. Logan watched them both with calculating eyes, this was certainly not who he expected would be the ones to realize his situation. Though connecting context clue’s he had a guess of who changed him in the first place. Remus nodded to something Deceit said and ran off down the hall. Logan just sat patiently, as the wasn't much he could do for now, though he could run once more if need be.

Deceit suddenly smirked and gave Logan an, albeit very clearly patronizing pat, it was sympathetic in nature. Logan couldn't help the sudden loud rumble that came from him, despite his best efforts, slightly leaning against the gloves hand. His ears flatted in embarrassment as Deceit pulled back looked stunned, but quickly put himself back together. Thankfully doing nothing more, if only for Logan’s own self-respect.

Remus returned skidding around the corner holding a sloshing bottle filled with a saturated pink liquid, it almost glistening in the light.

Logan was suddenly picked up by Remus and he dug his claws into the puffy sleeves as he was transported to the dark living-room. Deceit briefly scolded Remus lightly but the latter just shrugged with a teasing smirk. Logan fluffed up again when he was set down on the floor, the others much taller than him standing up, but before he could do anything the cold liquid suddenly splattered onto his head. His thoughts briefly became fuzzy as he felt his senses dull and felt a similar flip of when they changed from as suddenly, opening his eyes once more after getting a grip on reality, Logan, the human Logan, stared up at the ceiling.

–

Logan blinked a few times at the sudden change in lighting and sound feeling a bit disoriented, a dull throb behind hid eyes, but not painful.

“Whoo! It worked! Aaand you didn't turn into a glob of mutated human flesh!”

Logan tilted his head back glaring slightly at the delighted Remus looming above him with a grin. He adjusted his glasses slowly sitting up and regathering his bearing.

“Thank you for the lovely visual Remus.” Deceit quipped. “And I’m sure this totally was what Logan expecting for this morning, so my apologies.”

“Always here to please! In more ways than one.” Remus shimmed next to deceit who rolled his eyes with a slight smirk.

Logan stood up, fixing his hair which seemed to have residual fluff from the transition and re-adjusted his tie. “It is quite alright Deceit. And I would also like to apologize for invading your space, and will soon be leaving your metaphorical hair. However, to be clear i take it Remus is the one responsible for my sudden feline attributes?”

“Yep!”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ah. I shall have to take that into consideration then.” Logan nodded to himself.

Remus stared blankly with a smile tilting his head. “What?”

He reassured him. “Nothing of concern or malicious intent, merely an event to take into consideration when future events may take place. As they say, ‘keeping receipts’.”

Deceit raised an amused eyebrow.

“But I believe I shall be leaving now. And hopefully reconciling any mishaps that may have taken place by some cat in the past hour and 32 minutes I was away. Goodbye Remus, Deceit.”

“Don’t look froward to seeing you again Logan.”

“Bye Nerd!”

And Logan sunk out.

–

“What d’ya you think he meant by mishaps?” Remus looked to Deceit while picking his ear.

Deceit hummed. “Gossip seems to find its way around when you live in one persons mind, I suppose I could find out later and let you know.” He drawled with a smirk. “Secrets are my thing after all.”

“Whoo!”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan centric #potions #cat #transformation #k writes things #ts logan #virgil sanders #P anon

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jae-canikeepyou · 5 years ago

Text

| smitten | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: au + fluff + idol!jaehyun & solo artist!yn

a/n: hnngg gosh i loved writing this request ;-; i combined this too!! it might not be well-written but i’m pretty sure my fluttery jeelings hit me so hard haha hope you all enjoy reading loves! ~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

aggravating clashes of utensils fell on the wooden floor, the impact squeezed chests and jolted the life out of those who heard it. they were finally having the relaxation they waited for until the corners of their eyes followed the fallen items to the source of noise. jaehyun leaning forward against at the kitchen counter; legs about to give in with his phone in hand.

jungwoo approached him, worried that fatigue might’ve taken over the guy. he picked up the kitchen wares and towels, placing them back where they were meant to be. “hyung, are you alright?” he touched his friend’s forehead since his ears were prominent red, hot to the touch. “you’re not yourself since you woke up. got anything to say?”

jaehyun could only press his lips like he tasted his own blood. no words came out of him and this only heightened everyone’s curiosity. he walked back to where the others were and put his phone on the table. how could he explain this news to them without letting them start to tease? they already teased him last christmas’ performance with naeun. he was sure they’d do the same for this one. and as far as he was concerned, his heart continued to drum heavily that he could feel its pulse against his skin.

should i tell them? he asked himself.

“nothing.” his glanced quickly. what he missed seeing were the sly smirks that began to spread around his friends’ faces.

johnny started to tease, a satisfied smile growing where it showed his pearly whites. “tell me it’s what i think it is.” because of this phrase it made jaehyun’s ears turned more red and gave johnny the impression knowing he hit might’ve the bullseye, right at the center. “no way, so it is!” he exclaimed repeatedly and the younger one hoped he would shut it.

their cheers went from one to another and at that moment he knew they shared the same brain cell. “ha? no. stop assuming, john.” jaehyun gulped from his cup, swallowing it like it was bottom’s up. he kept it by his lips so it wouldn’t reveal his actual feelings.

“stop denying.” yuta propped his chin for a better position. “your ears gave it away.” if it was yuta, everyone knew they were automatically knocked out in the battle. no one could stand a chance against his words or actions.

“damn it! don’t point out my ears!” jaehyun groaned and accepted defeat by slumping on the table. he unlocked his phone then sliding it across the furniture.

they crowded upon the device and scrolled to see what nearly made the dude fall on his knees. it was only one word and that was enough to lit the light bulbs floating on top of the others’ heads. “oh well what’s the tea?” taeil asked, clearly pretending to be innocent since they were all interested now that jaehyun reacted sooner than expected.

mark shoved spoonfuls of cereal before seeing the entire digital conversation with their manager, he grumbled and hit johnny continuously as he reacted with his mouth full. “you‘re doing a duet with y/n?!” he asked that he nearly spat milk everywhere.

jaehyun exhaled, brushing back the strands of his hair and wore his headband. “yeah. the agency told me to collab a cover with her and said we start in two days.”

“you don’t sound excited. you nervous?” taeil opened a bag of granola bars and laid them at the center, soon devouring them like it were the last ones.

“up until now we’ve only collabed with boy groups.” he showed them the rehearsal pictures from that time. his shaky hands were proof that he was probably nervous.

johnny poked the guy’s chest to come back to reality. “shouldn’t you be less worried? she’s from the same label as ours.” his laughs have made all of them giggle.

the dimple boy wasn’t nervous or worried, it was incomparable to a grain of sand nor those two words were in his dictionary. he was perfectly fine with practicing with you. however, have his friends forgotten about what they did to him during pre-debut days?

he recalled the time you both first met, and that became the most-discussed topic within nct. it spread to all like wildfires. how that started was during trainee life. popularity votes were common and each had to choose the first place female trainee votes by male trainees and vice versa. the results came out, you and jaehyun ranked first. they made you both stand next to each other and this was when it got messy.

everyone tends to pair the firsts, so they began by teasing because they believed this was where the “developing” start. jaehyun knew what they did was a natural thing to do, all have experienced the hot seat and the endless snickers. if there was anything jaehyun would like to change in his body, it has to be his ears. they turned red the moment the ooh’s and yeee’s echoed the rehearsal studio. of course he did like you, but it was just like every person in the agency did.

you were a new artist who debuted under the same label as the said group; doing mostly of your orginals, small ost’s and covers. they knew you. in fact during trainee days, they’ve heard your name countless of times as there were praises towards your angelic vocals and coaches would use you as an example. nct 127 never heard anything from you since they debuted, but knew you were still in the label.

“it’s been years, hasn’t it?” jungwoo turned the television on. “from what i know, that was the last voting we ever did.”

wait what? jaehyun stepped out of his dazed mind and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. they didn’t forget? he looked at his friends as they light up in realisation.

taeil popped a snack in his mouth, entertained with today’s topic. “ah! right right! we did vote! y/n was voted as the first once!”

johnny waved his palms and shook in excitement now that the memory from years ago was brought back. “man, i’ll hug whoever came up with this idea. they’re smart. we should make them do a throwback picture too.” he said as he quickly dove into the deeper files of his laptop to look for pictures for proof.

jaehyun rubbed his face in annoyance that they remembered that time. his phone vibrated as it indicated a new message from an unknown number on the lockscreen. he was about to reach it when yuta’s reflexes were faster.. always* faster; swiftly taking it like they were carkeys. yuta loved teasing and scaring the life out of his friends. among them he loved seeing jaehyun fluster the most.

he put the phone in front of jaehyun and made the lad think he was showing the message to him. this was proven false when the screen unlocked from the face i.d., and yuta laughed devilishly, typing away in a jiffy, which jaehyun panicked and tried to take the phone back.

“dude let me just press ‘send’!” yuta screamed, his smooth movements were impossible for the affected boy to catch up to.

“what were you typing?” jaehyun got hold of the phone and stared at the screen, his eyes adjusting to the fonts within the message bubble.

[16:08] from unknown: hyemin, this is y/n. stop changing your phone #! are u even my manager why did you say i agreed? :/

[16:09] from unknown: oh whatever i’m calling you rn >:(

he jogged out of the dorm when it began to vibrate crazily, your digits calling him. his friends’ yells were soon muffled to a silence as the door behind him clicked to a close. he pressed the green button to answer. “hello?” his voice greeted.

a hitched breath followed by a gasp heard from the other line. he let out a low chuckle, making you more nervous than usual because you recognised the owner of the voice and you hadn’t talked with him since his group debuted.

he backed himself into the door, one hands in his pockets whilst he waited for the caller’s response. soft thuds hit the door and he felt it often the more the whispers behind the wooden partition. his friends were indeed listening, actually, they were eavesdropping.

“j-jaehyun?” you closed your eyes, then cursing at yourself for being too careless and straight-forward with your actions.

“hyun. jae.” he chuckled. uh-huh. did he just tease you? “i’m kidding. it’s jaehyun. you thought this number was hyemin’s?” he laughed over the phone.

oh boy, he was just as you remembered him to be. a humble person who caused a positive uproar within the walls of the girls’ rehearsal room. co-trainees of yours always mentioned his name; saying he was kind and a gentleman. you never saw him until you both stood in front of everyone as firsts. “i- uh.. sorry, a phone number was anonymously given to me. manager hyemin’s been playing pranks and..”

“i see, it’s alright y/n. don’t pressure too much because of this. i’ll see you soon though?” his voice pitched higher as if he was interested and looked forward to the duet. maybe a lot more higher when he called you by your name.

“mhm, yeah.” your toes curled from feeling your chest experience a good panic. “see you.”

jaehyun didn’t know why he nodded despite the short conversation being a phone call. he said a gentle goodbye and once you did too, he ended the call, swinging the door open and caused the boys to fall to the floor like dominos. “i’m not helping a pile of idiots. you did this to yourselves.” he singsonged and stuck out his tongue and prepared to take his leave.

the monotonous beeps ringing through the phone somehow calmed the waves of your uncontrollable heart beats. you laid on your bed defeatedly, face down to the pillow. the entire noise of your apartment was nothing but the sound of your drumming heart, pulsing against your flesh and you could feel it in your veins. “so what they (co-trainees) said is true.. jaehyun does make you feel things.”

little did you know, he was on the same boat.

whether or not it was from the results of being the firsts from the trainees’ votes or that he began noticing your presence often in the company building at every recording schedule of nct’s, jaehyun was shocked at himself that he couldn’t concentrate at all. you, a girl super laid back during trainee life blossomed to be a professional artist everyone came to adore. maybe including him too.

the venue you both were told to go was perfect for the duet cover. staff members already prepared two instruments and were placed at one corner with the wall of plants. jaehyun sat at the table, earphones plugged into his ears as his head matched with the rhythms of the song. he then caught sight of you approaching him and removed one of the buds. “hi.” he stood to pull out a chair, a smile creeping on both of your lips. “last listen before we start?”

“sure.” you took one and looked at him; an ethereal person in casual clothes, boyfriend material worthy. it’s no wonder people called him their first love. and this attire of his probably got you under his spell too.

trying not to sing out loud, you lip-synced the lyrics for the final time and swayed to each word. jaehyun took a good look at you, his eyes forming crescent shapes when he saw how embarrassed you felt— because you were caught by him. it hasn’t been a minute, the staff asked to be on cue and you both head to where the instruments were; a piano and an acoustic guitar.

instinctively, your hands reached for the edge of the piano, it was one you could play. however, jaehyun too, had his hands on it and simultaneously you both retracted. “you want to play the keys?” you hear him asked, immediately nodding at his inquiry.

he let out a nervous chuckle which was followed by his cute, jutted lips. “well i could play the guitar but it’s been ages since i last held one. my strums might sound rusty.”

“no problem.” you twirled on your heels and grabbed the guitar and saw an electronic finger drum pad beside the keyboard, pointing at it as well. “i’ll play these two and we’re good to go.” your giggles had him all feeling fluttery inside and he fought so hard to not be exposed.

he wasn’t going to lie. jaehyun’s heart did skip a beat. you were only doing final tunings for a better sound but the way you looked so dedicated with this field of work, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. sunlight appeared like it was your own emitting aura, almost identical to an angel that was heaven-sent. the light current of wind added to your source of elegance and the plants behind became your world. took him a second or two to fathom out that he was dragged into your beauty.

were you always this gorgeous?

because it has been days since he was told to do a duet with you, sometimes he felt his breaths trying to catch up with his racing beats of his heart. they were lacking behind, so far back that you being there or just sitting.. had him awestruck.

“jaehyun?” you waved small that he twitched in his seat, his thoughts cutting short from your sweet voice. “they’re signalling to test the camera. are you alright with one practice?”

he turned to the staff and said the cue. jaehyun did stretches before placing his hands lightly on the keys. you sat straight to not appear tired as you palm muted the strings, soon harmonising with the sustained chords he played. a duet rendition of say you won’t let go.

the camera panned sideways along its dolly track rail, your eyes followed the lens as you began to set the mood. you took a deep breath before singing.

“i met you in the dark, you lit me up. you made me feel as though, i was enough. we danced the night away, we drank too much. i held your hair back when you were throwing up.”

he was amazed that you quickly brought your hands out for a while to tap the buttons for percussions, each beat matched with the rhythm of his playing.

“then you smiled over your shoulder. for a minute i was stone cold sober..” his baritone followed suit. it was hypnotic that you couldn’t resist to stare at him as dimples subtly reveal themselves on his smooth skin on each word.

jaehyun’s eyes grew at the sweet soulful tone while you sang the verse that he forgot to sing with you at the next sentence. “i pulled you closer to my-” you continued in a harmonised key and later stopped, a giggle bubbling out of you.

his admiration for you was interrupted upon your laugh. the frazzled boy lifted his fingers off the keys, hands clasped together for an apology. “ah, i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright. don’t pressure too much because of this.” you said with assurance. “i get nervous sometimes too.” yeah of course you were. you got to collab with him despite your busy schedules.

the dimples on his cheeks deepened. did you use the same sentence as he did few days ago?

“you looked fine to me.” he licked his lips. “pretty too.” and he mumbled to himself, but you were too occupied with the guitar in your hand that you didn’t hear what he said. “can we start from the top?” clearing his throat, he was glad you didn’t hear it. or else he would be embarrassed.

singing with you was like coffee. jaehyun had this particular, specific impression as he spotted a café prior to coming here. he knew fans loved his voice, a unique baritone that was very prince-like. if he were to reference it, his vocals alone was like americano. people would get addicted to the taste despite it being uncommon in the kpop industry. although they enjoyed it, the staff thought it would be better to include you in the duet.

so you became the sugar to his vocals, a pleasant timbre that was as calming as the rain’s patter. voices perfectly blended together in different ranges, both delicate and careful. you have sung with other artists through covers and orginals, however jaehyun stood out the most in all of those, in which made you think this collab was the one you enjoyed.

[ both harmonising ]

“..and you asked me to stay over i said, i already told you i think that you should get some rest.”

“i knew i loved you then, you'd never know ‘cause i played it cool when i was scared of letting go.”

“i knew i needed you i never showed but i wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old.”

“just say you won't let go, just say you won't let go.”

jaehyun felt giddy inside hearing your voice fit with his. as you both enjoyed each other’s presence during the cover, he could sense that after today, he definitely took a liking for you— but his heart knew him better than he thought.

he fell in love with you on the spot.

—

hours have passed and a total of five takes were recorded, majority of which three of them were slightly messed up because either jaehyun forgot his lines or you needed to be quenched or vice versa. jaehyun fixed his brown outerwear as he observed you from afar, tying a low bun to prevent your hair adding heat from the scorching hot weather. eyes extremely focused on the camera from the second last cover video.

all was finished for the day yet there was half an hour left until you both separate ways. jaehyun decided to buy drinks and got one for you as well.

the table you sat on slightly shook from the impact he did to place the ordered beverages. “i didn’t know what you like, so i got you latte.” he pulled the chair to sit, sliding the cup to you.

“hm, you sure about that?” you raised a brow and appreciated his effort to go out his way for this. “latte’s like my go-to drink. thank you.”

jaehyun kept himself composed, he had to hide his smile behind the cup. it was dying to show. he hoped you didn’t see him. your arms almost meet when he scooted closer to view the video together. the frame was perfectly placed at the center and you couldn’t believe you both sounded well together.

you heard his soft tsk’s, there were small amount of water rolling down his cup from the ice inside. he got up to get extra tissue. as you waited for him, you checked the device and clicked on its previous button. it was a video of him holding a wireless camera lavaliere microphone and with your mind full of curiosity, you played it.

it contained his ending ment and if you listened closely, it was for a vlog you were familiar with, a channel where he documented his daily ‘yuno’ vlogs for his fans. the motion automatically played and he spoke through the wireless mic.

something about this had you rewinding it twice. he was staring off into space as he spoke, his eyes trailing— actually following someone. he gave a little twitch and pout of the lips, that was the same when he forgot to harmonise with you. the wind blew his hair, revealing his dusted pink ears and eyes enlarging the more he followed where you went.

the thought of his reaction caused you to shy around him once he came back and had two desserts in his hands. maybe if the winds answered your prayers to confirm what you saw in the video was true, it could convince you enough.

the said boy handed you the utensils and as you had your first bite, he loved how the café’s lights became your glow, the music became your introduction. heat eventually spread his entire face.

yes, nature heard your calls,

and yes, his heart told him that

he’s so smitten with you.

#nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au

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brideofcthulhu10 · 5 years ago

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Hey all my sweet fang babes! This one is for all my Dwayne-lovers starved for attention!

Dwayne Slow Dancing with His Fem!S/O Fluff

It was a slower winter day during Santa Carla’s off season when you decided to invite Dwayne over for a stay-at-home dinner date; your treat. The guys had no interest in intruding on your mushy gushy date nonsense, so for once it really would just be you and him at your apartment. While it never snowed in your coastal city, it had grown significantly colder as Thanksgiving passed leading on to Christmas. The guys had already eagerly come by a week prior to help you set up the tree, crudely stringing up lights you didn't have the heart to fix them. Paul and Marko were so proud of themselves for putting them up! Even David managed to lift a few fingers to help toss a few ornaments up. They always wanted to come over more during the fall and winter. Mostly just because winter time meant you made twice the treats as usual when they visited. It was hard not to spoil them! Not because they were sweet, but these road hogs hardly ever ate anything other than take out, and frankly you didn’t have the heart to tell them those chow mein noodles were the greasiest things you had ever seen even before David’s obnoxious worm trick. Although you were pretty sure they didn’t care. But, you’d rather they eat something that wasn’t reheated in a microwave.

Dwayne was in your living room sifting through VHSs trying to locate the best movie for the night in front of your television. There were three piles he had accumulated so far, hunched over with his chin resting on his knuckles with a perplexing furrow to his firm brow. Honestly, the sight was hilarious. Like a modern The Thinker caught between The Nightmare on Elm Street or Little Shop of Horrors. Frankly you weren’t all that concerned with what to watch tonight, you were just happy to have some alone time with your boyfriend. The word seemed to make your cheeks flare, looking down at your cutting board lest you be caught staring again.

“Babe you can put on whatever, I really don’t mind,” you insist, rapidly gliding your knife over a row of red bell peppers until they were sliced and diced into little bits.

“I hardly get to watch anything at the hotel,” Dwayne spoke up, leaning back on his butt to relieve the knot forming between his shoulder blades. "I want to take advantage of the opportunity to watch something newer, I didn't get to see Little Shop when it came out last year."

You had been to said hotel on previous nights out with the wild pack of vampires, and it was a complete wonder how the demolished landmark still remained stable. Years of neglect corroded wood until they melded into cavernous systems clinging to the architecture with spindly rivers of root systems stemming from above. Pests of varying types roosted in the rafters and hidden corners, you nearly yelped when a rat ran right across your foot. Apparently the critters had associated people with food after Marko had begun sharing his meals with them, and still didn’t quite understand why having a pack of rodents that never wanted to leave your home was a bad thing. While you absolutely refused to be their little maid, you nearly had a panic attack coming across the discarded containers of food riddled with bugs that you ended up throwing out; although you were incredibly tempted to throw them at David who found the whole ordeal amusing. They were men. Hardly. They were gross, wild teenage boys who’d yet to come across a female who didn’t cower at their mighty vampire strength. But you had known Dwayne for a few years by this point. You grew to trust him, to trust them. The threat of disembowelment by a pack of beasts wasn’t exactly much of a threat, especially since you weren’t aware of it until last year. The jarring news had first come across as a joke.

Vampires? Right, and you’re the tooth fairy. But you had come to witness it first hand, completely by accident. A drunken bar patron on the boardwalk had been harassing you on Halloween and flipped your skirt up to eagerly announce to his equally inebriated friends the color of your underwear. Naturally Dwayne had punched him several feet, but you had assumed that was the end of it until hours later he had excused himself for an unusually long period of time. The absence worried you for a number of reasons, leading you to follow him. Between dumpsters, barely illuminated by the eerie glow of moonlight, you watched his back twist. He looked like he was ripping something open. There was no expression across your face while he tore into the man’s neck, rather you had begun walking backwards when your heel had tapped into a hollow aluminum can alerting your position. Dwayne had flown to you, and while you anticipated his attack… he was telling you how unsafe it was to wander at night. Later you both had talked through the ordeal, how he came to be the way he was. The only thing to remember from it all is despite his nature, he’d never hurt you.

‘Thank god for that, otherwise this would be going to waste,’ an amused thought teased your brain, pulling you away from the twisty trail of nostalgia that kept you firmly planted in place. Thankfully you had been snapped back into reality, carefully lifting up the cutting board and scraping the peppers and sausage you finished chopping into the frying pan. Dwayne had finally finished his tower of ‘no’ films, finally sold on Little Shop of Horrors and left to clean up his mess. And now left to still wait for you to finish the meal. He wasn’t even quite sure what you were making. Casually the vampire waltzed into your kitchen, leaning his elbows on the counter top watching you do a little two step sway to Depeche Mode on the radio nestled beside your stove top. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your chipper motions, stepping around to catch you in his arms as you turn around mid-dance.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you crashed into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck with a tender smile, lost in his hypnotic gaze. “Dwayne, it’s gonna burn,” you try to remind him, still lost in deep pools of amber. He glanced up, leaning forward just past you to click off the burner just as the low bass strums began to play over the radio.

“There,” he offered, stepping back with his iron arms wrapped around your waist. “Now it won’t burn.”

The Moody Blues sung of nights wrapped in satin, letters written never meant to be sent. You could feel yourself swaying in his arms, one step then two. There was no extravagant choreography riddled with dips and lifts.

“Beauty I'd always missed, With these eyes before. Just what the truth is, I can't say any more”

Your melodic laugh carried over the powerful chorus, carefully stepping when he clumsily grasped you hand for a dizzying spin before stumbling your back into him. Dwayne’s own booming laugh warmed your heart, laying his head up against your hair.

“...Just what you want to be, you will be in the end… And I love you… Yes I love you! Oh how I love you!”

You spun around again to face him, his neck craning over to nuzzle his forehead against your own. You were amazed neither of you had crashed into the countertop yet, unable to contain your yelp as he lifted you up in the air. The song had slowed to the end, yet you remained above in the air leaning just over his shoulders. Had you even reached the ground? It felt like you had been walking on air even as your toes gently landed back down on cold linoleum tiles. Dwayne had been equally dazed in an ethereal high, still tightly clutching you to himself until a new song had cut through the romantic haze left behind. Again his laugh bubbled in your ears, sneaking mischievous pecks across the nape of your neck.

“I guess we should eat before it gets cold,” he asked, glancing behind you at the steaming sausage and vegetables scattered between chunks of seasoned rice.

“Well,” you began to ponder, glancing up at him. A huge smile spread across your cheeks as you leaned back with his hands still clasping your waist to turn up the volume knob on your radio. “Maybe just… one more dance.”

#lost boys 1987 #lost boys imagine #the lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #lost boys #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #fanfic #80s movies #fanfiction author #fluff imagine #vampire fluff #fluff #lost boys dwayne #cute #cuteness #romantic #dancing

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keichan · 4 years ago

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Running Through the Night Tsukishima x fem!reader Part 5: After

You and Tsukishima have been friends for as long as you two could remember. With a very unexpected confession, how will this affect you two?

Authors note: So I’ve decided that this series will end at either between parts 8-10 but I’m not completely sure. I’m glad that you guys are enjoying my first series! I plan on writing a Tanaka SMAU in the near future with @pipsqweaks so follow us (:

Word count: 1737

Genre: college au, unrequited love, angst, best friends to lovers, fluff somewhere in there, mutual pining

Warnings: manga time skip!!! mentions of vomiting

Send me a message or ask to be added to the taglist !

masterlist・previous・next

“So what’s got you like this Y/N?” Sugawara sat across from you in a ramen shop not too far away from Tsukishima’s apartment. You prodded the noodles with your chopsticks before you let out a short sigh.

“Kei confessed to me last night,” You held your breath and set your utensils down before looking at Sugawara for his response.

He grinned, “Really? That’s great! It’s about time that he finally confessed!” He clapped his hands together giddily. Your jaw dropped open. If it was humanly possible, you’re sure it would’ve touched the ground. He slowed down at your reaction, “Are you not happy about it?”

“Wait. You’re saying that you knew about it? What do you mean about time?” You placed both of your hands on the table and leaned forward. Sugawara’s expression slowly switched from joy to confusion.

“Yeah?...” he began slowly. “It wasn’t just me... Literally everyone knew.... Are you telling me that you didn’t?” He let out a nervous laugh.

You leaned back dumbfounded in your chair and began to tap your leg rapidly. You shook your head at the table. “I literally had no idea, I was caught off guard about it.”

“Really? The whole team thought that you two had a thing for each other and was kind of just waiting for some kind of catalyst to finally throw you two together.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes. You two were inseparable. It was almost unnatural to not see the both of you in the same room. Y/N, even in your first year over high school, he was already head over heels for you. The times that you weren’t there, he’s... I’m not sure if it’s the right word for it, but tense. The high strung, cocky bastard that we all know. If he sees anything that displeases him, he has to make a comment. But whenever you’re there he isn’t like that he-“

“What are you talking about? He always has to make a comeback regardless. It’s not like he avoids it when I’m there,” you insist.

Sugawara waves his hands, “No, no, it’s not like that. His insults are barely kinder, but he says it because he likes it when you tell him to lay off. Even though he might tell you to shut up or call you an idiot as a reply. Every time you would turn away, he always had this stupid smile on his face.”

You buried your face in your hands mumbling, “I feel so stupid that I didn’t know.”

“So.. Are you telling me that you don’t like him?”

“It’s not that.. It’s just that when I think of everything that happened last night, it just is all starting to make sense. How could I be so blind.”

“Yanno, what’s kinda funny is every time a guy would confess to you in high school, Tsukishima would go out of his way to subtly bully them after you rejected them. He’d either bump into them ‘accidentally’ or flat out insult them with a ’So I heard Y/N-san rejected you. Hate to say it makes sense’ with his signature smirk.” He let out a light laugh.

You followed with a dry laugh. “Yeah, that’s Kei for ya.”

“Speaking of, why did you always reject everyone who confessed to you? Some of the guys were pretty attractive.” Sugawara pondered out loud.

You took a second to think about it. There was never really a reason for you to reject all of those boys your first year. You didn’t need a boyfriend since you had Kei. Wait.

“I just had the realization that the reason why I never said yes was kind of the situation of ‘well I already have Kei, why would I need someone else.” You laughed nervously before continuing. “Everything with Kei is so easy and so natural. Being around him is like breathing. I’m always at ease around him, I just never have had to worry. I mean yeah we bicker, but we’ve never fought. I guess I just never had a reason to see him in that light because everything from our childhood to now has been consistent. I don’t really know the point I’m trying to get at, but I do love him. Maybe I’ve subconsciously blocked all of these other people off because I knew it deep down. I just have never had a reason to acknowledge it.”

After you finished the sound of the other patrons moving around the shop enveloped the atmosphere again, setting you back into reality. Sugawara offered you a warm smile. “Do you think he’s taking it hard right now? What exactly did he say last night?”

You slowly began to retell the events of last night. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw you glow brightly every time you said Tsukishima’s name. Sugawara and many other alumni knew that this was a long time coming. It’s just nice to see it all play out.

“But there is one thing he said last night that doesn’t really make sense. He said something like ‘I can make you happier than him’ or something like that. I have no idea who ‘him’ is supposed to be.” Now in a better mood, leaving room for Sugawara to speak, you began to start eating again.

“Well is there anyone you hang out with that happens to be a guy? From college or from high school”

You shook your head. “I’ve been so busy. Earlier this month we had midterms, so I had to balance that and my part-time job at the market. I usually spend the time I do have with Kei and Yamaguchi or some of my other friends, but only once or twice. Since Yamaguchi and I have been planning Kei’s birthday party since it’s coming up in two weeks, I guess you could say that I’ve been spending more time with him since we’re trying to get everyone from high school to come. But I don’t think that Kei would be jealous of Yamaguchi. The three of us have been so close since middle school. It doesn’t make sense, right?”

“Actually, Y/N, it kind of does. It might be what pushed him over. Especially if you’re spending more time with Yamaguchi out of nowhere over Kei, it probably is coming off like you have a thing with him and you’re just not saying anything on the matter.”

You pointed your chopsticks at him, “I’m just going to assume you’re wrong until Italk to him. Is it cool if you take me back to his place? I just hope he’s home.”

Sugawara nodded standing up, “Yeah of course! And don’t worry about the meal, it’s my treat.”

Tsukishima knew from the moment he woke up that your friendship wasn’t going to be there anymore. If it was it would be awkward and uncomfortable. You would avoid him like you avoided all of the other boys that confessed to you in high school.

He got dressed and began to walk out of the front door. He saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, beautiful as ever. He scrunched his eyes closed quickly. Dumbass, she rejected you, you can’t think like that. The thoughts overwhelmed him. The realization made him feel numb. He quietly exited the apartment and began driving to his captains house. He couldn’t confide in Yamaguchi, that was clear to him. Nakamura was the next best option. Tsukishima knocked on the door and was let in immediately.

“Are you okay, Tsukishima?” The captain grabbed the tall middle blocker’s shoulder, eyes laced with concern. Tears quickly slipped from the edges of his eyes before he wiped them with his sleeve.

He tried to make his voice as steady as possible by slowing his breathing, but he was already choking back a sob. “I confessed to Y/N last night and she rejected me. She didn’t kiss me back, she didn’t say anything, she just left the room.” Tsukishima sank against the wall. “I really lost her…”

Nakamura crouched down and rubbed his shoulder, “Tsukishima, it’s going to be alright. This is going to pass.”

Tsukishima shook his head in a daze.

“I’ve loved her all of my life. It’s not that simple and it will never be.”

Nakamura stood up and walked to his kitchen. “I’m gonna make you some tea so hopefully you can get to feeling better. Y/N has never left your side and I don’t think she ever would.”

Tsukishima felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He fished it out to see you calling. Your profile picture was from Christmas a few years ago. You stand behind his sitting figure with your arms hanging around his neck. Both of you are smiling so big. His thumb hovered over the answer button but he didn’t click it. He couldn’t talk to you right now. His heart couldn’t handle what you were going to tell him.

He set it on the ground and took his glasses off in an attempt to wipe away his tears, but your phone call opened the floodgates. He pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. His body wouldn’t stop shaking. Nakamura walked up to him with a mug of tea just to set it down next to Tsukishima’s cell phone. He wasn’t sure what to do besides say everything will be fine and rub his back. He didn’t know Tsukishima could emote like that.

It wasn’t before long that Tsukishima got short of breath and began to choke on his sobs. “Nakamura, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t breathe” Nakamura quickly nodded and led Tsukishima to his bathroom before Tsukishima threw himself over the toilet and began to dry heave, but nothing came up. It pained his captain to see him like this.

After a while once the tears slowed, Nakamura offered him a spare room to stay for as long as he needed. By that point he was so exhausted, he passed out immediately.

Upon waking up he had 27 missed calls and 51 text messages.

The most recent ones saying:

Y/N: Kei, I’m at your at your apartment right now

Y/N: Kei I really want to talk to you about everything, please come home.

Y/N: I’m so worried about you, please answer me

Sent at 10:17pm

Tsukishima didn’t go home that night

((a/n I’m not sure if everyone will agree on how I chose to write Tsukishima at this chapter, but I feel like if he truly thought he lost the opportunity with the love of his life, I’d think that it would push him over.))

taglist @pipsqweaks @pperapear @kapuching @luvmonie @bumbledunce

@a-listaire @ysasian @kodzu-ken @montys-chaos

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu college au #haikyuu angst #angst #mutual pining #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #sugawara #sugawara koushi

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germanreich · 3 years ago

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Guren guren guren

Title: In the Absence of the Demon

Disclaimer: This is a fan-made translation from Chinese translations! Please go easy and enlighten us on any mistakes or deviations from the original light novel. All credit goes to the original author and illustrators. - Hyaka and Kuro Shion

——————————————————————————————

‘This is Ichinose Guren-sama.’

This was heard in one of the classroom of First Shibuya High School.

Until recently, everyone here should have been an enemy.

What greeted them originally was only scolding, ignoring and a cola bottle thrown from goodness knows where –

Opening the classroom door, there were a few students whispering in the corridor.

‘I heard he was selected as Kureto-sama’s direct subordinate.’

‘They say he was hiding his real strength, but was found out by Kureto-sama.’

‘He’s on good terms with Shinya-sama too, and his strength has even been acknowledged by those two from the Mito family and Goshi family.’

‘So which idiot said he was a rat from a bad family?!’

‘You said it yourself.’

‘No way! Stop joking!’

Guren himself, however, was ignoring those upsetting conversations. He sat at his desk, supporting his face with his hand and daydreaming. Evidently, he was lacking in sleep.

Overnight, he had been in the backseat of a car on the Tomei Expressway, bound for Tokyo via Aichi at 150 km per hour. During that time, his mind was fixated on what might happen in the future, and so he was unable to have a good sleep.

‘……’

Guren squinted his eyes, half-asleep, and gazed out the window.

Although it could not be felt in this classroom with its excellent air-conditioning, outside it was so hot that the scenery seemed to be enveloped in a heat haze.

Today was the 20th of August.

For normal schools, it would be summer vacation, but in this school there were no such holidays.

According to the news, the temperature these few days had set a new high. Why was it so hot? If the heat persisted, it might lead to stored food going bad, but since the world was going to end this Christmas anyway, to worry about food going bad would be utterly meaningless.

‘…… Guren. Guren!’

Someone called his name.

But Guren did not notice and continued to look out the window.

The owner of the voice grew angry and forcefully rapped the table.

‘Hey, Ichinose Guren! Why are you ignoring my questions?’

Impatiently, Guren glanced towards the source of the noise. There stood a girl from his class.

Her most noticeable characteristics were her bright red hair, strong gaze and pale white skin.

This was the daughter of the prestigious Jujo family – Jujo Mito.

She continued to speak.

‘Every day, you don’t train and you always have this dazed, dumb attitude…… has the fame from being noticed by Kureto-sama made you so arrogant?’

‘…… Who’s arrogant?’

Guren countered, and Mito angrily replied.

‘I’m talking about you! Ichinose Guren. In class you act as there is no one around you, during physical education and spells class you don’t use your true strength. What on earth do you want!?’

Faced with these questions, Guren was troubled over how to answer. In the first place, the content covered in class here were already below his intellectual level. There was simply nothing worth learning.

However, everyone here was his enemy, so there was no need to let all his enemies see his true strength.

And so, every day, Guren acted lazy and pretended to be a half wit – but even if he explained all this she would definitely still not understand.

In the Hiiragi family, to have value or to be famous – in the eyes of the people here, this was something to be celebrated.

Hence, for Guren to become arrogant or proud was not surprising, for this was something that was worth feeling proud over.

So was it better to act out that happiness? However, be it his terrible attitude or hidden true strength, both had already been seen through by Kureto, so was it still necessary to hide everything to such a degree?

In the midst of pondering all these, unexpectedly –

‘……Uwah~’

A yawn leaked out of his mouth.

This angered Mito even more.

‘What kind of attitude is that?’

‘Your yelling is making my ears hurt.’

‘First of all, just now during physical training, I saw that you lost to a classmate in an instant…… How can this be? Your strength shouldn’t be so low!’

Guren shrugged.

‘No, I really do only have that much strength.’

She grew even more furious.

‘And that is exactly the kind of attitude that gives others a headache!’

‘Headache? Why? You have no reason to have a headache.’

Mito spoke intensely.

‘Of course I do! If you laze about, those from prestigious families who hang out with you will also be laughed at and shamed, haven’t you noticed?’

No wonder she was so angry.

In other words, being Kureto’s subordinate, Guren was now grouped with Jujo and Goshi, so if his bad attitude were to be seen, he would also drag down the reputations of the others.

Guren smiled and said.

‘Why do I have to be concerned about your reputation too?’

‘That is because…… We are all Kureto-sama’s subordinates, in future we will also be companions working together, so……’

However, Guren was no longer listening.

Companions.

They were companions?

Kureto-sama’s subordinates, companions?

This was certainly fortunate, to be personally chosen by Kureto-sama to be one of his underlings.

This thought surfaced in his mind.

‘…… Haha.’

Guren laughed in a self-depreciating way, before yawning and continuing to support his head with his hand.

‘Hey Guren!’

Mito called.

The male sitting nearby began to laugh.

Hiiragi Shinya.

‘Come on, Mito-chan, don’t bug him anymore. It’s not like his laziness and disappointing attitude is anything new.’

Mito showed a respectful face to those of the Hiiragi family.

‘Ah, Shinya-sama. However……’

‘Anyway, to someone of his caliber, the curriculum taught at this school must be pointless. Right? Guren? Don’t you agree?’

‘……’

When Guren ignored Shinya, Mito grew angry again.

‘Hey, you! How dare you ignore Shinya-sama’s words!’

Hearing this furious shout, the people outside started to whisper again.

‘Hey, looks like that rumor was true. He really is on good terms with Shinya-sama and that girl from the Jujo family.’

‘So, does that mean that rebellious Ichinose branch family has sworn allegiance to the Hiiragi family… to Kureto –sama?’

Hearing that voice,

‘……’

Guren once more stared out the window and gently bit his lip.

In the past, the Ichinose family had been the most loyal to the Hiiragi family, and among the branch families had been the most prestigious and powerful.

But 500 years ago – they split with the Hiiragi family, and set up the religious sect ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

With regard to the situation then, there were no exact reports, but the reason for this was something everyone knew well.

The lone reason, was simple a love story.

A heart-rending love story.

There had once been a beautiful Ichinose girl, the Hiiragi’s eldest and second sons both vied for her favor.

After a series of complicated events, the girl’s affection was successfully gained by the second son.

According to legend, the eldest son was unable to accept this reality.

Thus one night, the eldest son raped the girl, impregnated her and had the second son castrated.

After that, the eldest son had his own son, the girl and the second son cast out of the family.

The exiled second sun, together with the Ichinose girl, then set up the new religious sect ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

However, their defeat was still apparent.

After all, when all was said and done, the eldest son was still heir to the Hiiragi family.

The one leading ‘Mikado no Oni’, was the heir to the Hiiragi family.

However, the eldest son did not destroy the organization set up by the second son and the Ichinose girl.

The reason for this, was to humiliate them.

So that the Ichinose girl who had not chosen him, and the younger brother who had betrayed him, would be laughed at and scorned for eternity.

He allowed them to live to suffer humiliation.

To allow their descendants to always bear the scorn of others.

Of course, the castrated second sun could not produce children with the girl.

Hence, the child born of the rape by the eldest son – the Hiiragi boy became the adopted son and heir of ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

The second son was always scorned.

The girl was always scorned.

The two of them continued to deeply love the other. Yet everything other than this was taken away.

Everyone in the families scorned them.

Humiliated them.

This was the price of betrayal.

The price of betraying the Hiiragi family.

And so, everyone in the families became used to scorning the Ichinose family.

That was why the Ichinose were always rats.

From the moment they were born, they were dirty, smelly rats.

Only, after a long time, all this simply became urban legend.

To the new generation’s Guren and those of the Hiiragi family, this was no longer a topic of importance.

That was why Kureto could calmly issue orders to Guren. The eldest son of the Hiiragi family, had forgiven the Ichinose family.

While this could be seen as violating tradition, it was still a reasonable thing to do. Anyway, things like the ancestors’ love stories, no one really cared about.

Being the loner among the ten families comprising the Ichinose, Nii, Sanguu, Shijin, Goshi, Rikudou, Shichikai, Hakke, Kuki and Jujo, the Ichinose should be the strongest.

If that family would follow Kureto-sama today – this was important enough to be a significant topic of discussion.

It could also be due to his controlling nature that Kureto-sama took Guren under his wing.

Recess was coming to an end, class would resume soon.

Hence, Mito huffily returned to her seat.

As she did so, she was also teased by Goshi.

‘You really don’t learn, huh. Why bother with Guren? Or do you like him……’

‘Shut up!’

Goshi had only said halfway before he was slapped.

Goshi laughed.

However, the rest of the class dared not to laugh. They were afraid of the revenge that came from laughing at a member of the elite families.

And so, everyone could only show kind, sincere smiles.

In the end, whether it was Jujo or Goshi, they were both venerated by the others.

The teacher was already standing on the teacher’s platform. The fourth period of the day began.

This class was on the ways to counter and deal with Western magic, a topic in which Guren had little interest.

Shinya, sitting next to him, lightly tapped his shoulder.

‘Hey Guren.’

‘……’

‘Hey.’

‘So noisy.’

‘Well, this is class. So try to speak softer, okay?’

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

But Shinya pulled his chair closer, leaned on Guren and whispered in his ear.

‘…… If I’m speaking so softly, will I anger the teacher?’

Guren turned with a face full of irritation.

Shinya was still smiling widely. In this school, there were no teachers who dared show wrath towards those who bore the Hiiragi name, Shinya was only saying this for fun.

Guren did not say a word. Shinya annoying him was also perfectly normal, there was no need to respond.

Yet Shinya did not seem to care and continued to whisper in his ear.

‘Tonight, <Hyakuya Sect> will come. So where shall we meet up?’

In this instant, Guren could not help the widening of his eyes.

His gaze locked onto Shinya.

This was not something that should be said in a school run by ‘Mikado no Oni’.

If they were to be overheard, they would immediately be arrested and tortured.

However, Shinya was still wearing his usual smile. Evidently, before saying these words he had already made untold preparations.

If so,

‘……Don’t scare me like that.’ Said Guren. Shinya grinned again.

‘That’s because it’s not good for you to always ignore people and even make Mito-chan angry.’

‘Stop joking around. I’m not interested in playing around with you.’

Guren said, directing a stern gaze at Shinya.

‘I’m not joking. I’m also not interesting in silly games.’

Guren stared at Shinya.

Shinya merely smiled and let Guren stare.

Guren had no inclination to trust Shinya.

Shinya had given him the piece of the chimaera called <Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse> that Mahiru had left behind, so to some extent he could be trusted, but if he let down his guard, he might be taken advantage of.

Therefore, it was necessary to act cautiously.

‘……’

Guren did not reply.

Taking the initiative, Shinya placed a piece of paper on the table. On it was written the address for rendezvous that night.

Shinya had left his fingerprints on this paper. If Guren gave it to Kureto, the place where they were to meet the <Hyakuya Sect> would be ambushed by the Hiiragi family, and Shinya would also be killed that day.

In other words, Shinya had exposed his weakness to his opponent.

With a shocked expression, Guren asked.

‘…… Why do you trust me?’

Shinya smiled.

‘Why don’t you instead say that you’re amazed at my alertness.’

‘Because your face annoys me.’

‘Ahaha. Even though I look so friendly?’

‘Shut up.’

‘….. Anyway, you may know nothing about me, but I’ve always heard about you.’

‘……’

‘Ever since I was young. From the time I first met Mahiru… Because, she always talks about you.’

Shinya said thus.

Guren smiled coldly.

‘Then, did you go mad with jealously? You really like Mahiru, right?’

In response, Shinya smiled lightly.

‘To be accurate, I have good feelings towards Hiiragi, but I don’t like her to that extent.’

‘……Humph.’

‘But, I really am jealous of you.’

‘Huh? Why?’

‘I’ve always been imagining what you were like. I wondered about if you were to appear before me, which of us would be stronger, and what you looked like, etcetera.’

This made Guren remember.

When he first entered the school, Shinya launched a surprise attack on him.

Of course, even now he could not ascertain the truth of his words, but maybe to some extend he was trustworthy.

Even so.

Guren picked up the paper Shinya left on his table and slipped it into his pocket, taking care to preserve Shinya’s fingerprints on its surface.

This action that purposely preserved the fingerprints was noticed by Shinya, who smiled.

‘How prudent.’

‘To avoid the fate of the trash that is not street-smart and is disposed of.’

Hearing him say this, Shinya was a little upset, and said.

‘…… That self-pitying talk…… If it were Mahiru she would definitely put on an annoyed expression, why on earth does she like you?’

‘Maybe my face looks friendlier?’

When Guren said this, Shinya looked at him in apparent surprise.

‘…… Ha, hahaha.’

He laughed.

Guren cast his gaze outside the window.

The schoolyard, as expected, was filled with dry heat.

It was summer.

Summer.

If this world were to end on Christmas day, this would be the last summer ever.

———————————————————

After class and club activities were over, the phone rang.

The caller ID read <Hiragi Kureto>.

The main candidate to be the Hiiragi heir, the student council president that no one in school could disobey.

After pressing the ‘Answer’ button, he heard the other’s voice.

‘What?’

‘No. Is there anything you need of me, Kureto-sama – that is how you should say it.’

‘Do you like oppressing your subordinates that much?’

‘Nah, just joking.’

‘Your jokes aren’t funny at all. Have you been spoilt so much by the higher-ups that your brain has also spoilt? (TN: Hurhur, pun intended)

‘Hahaha, do you want to die?’

‘I dare you to try. Do you think it’s such an easy feat?’

‘……No. But, you know, I really like that attitude of yours.’

‘Sigh~ What attitude do you like?’

‘Although your way of speaking is very sharp, when you cannot win against me you clearly recognize your own status; this attitude.’

‘……’

Guren did not respond. Because this was a fact. Right now, he could not afford to be surrounded by enemies.

‘Mikado no Tsuki’ could not afford ‘Mikado no Oni’ as an enemy.

This was not a simple child’s fight. Even if he attained victory with his sword, it would be meaningless.

If the people he respected and treasured were labelled as criminals, even the pregnant would not be spared.

Just like 500 years ago.

The situation had not changed at all.

Mito and Goshi, who had finished packing and were ready to go home, walked over.

Goshi saw Guren and snickered.

‘Making a call right after school ends, could it be your girlfriend.’

Mito overheard this, and –

‘……What!?’

For some reason she stared at Guren.

Guren ignored her and continued to talk on his phone.

‘Anyway, what do you want?’

‘During lunch break tomorrow, come to the student council room.’

‘No.’

‘Haha, you don’t have the right to refuse. See you tomorrow.’

‘Bleh.’

Before hearing the sound of Guren sticking out his tongue, Kureto ended the call.

Shinya, who was sitting beside him, lifted his head to ask.

‘Kureto-nii?’

‘My girlfriend.’

Hearing this, Mito rushed over.

‘…… Wait, wait a minute! You’re still in training, how could you engage in such leisure activities as dating?’

What on earth was this girl saying.

Guren stared at her with an irritated expression, before sighing and ignoring her. Mito was immediately angered and glared at him forcefully. Seeing this, Goshi burst out laughing for some reason.

Guren did not take notice and instead scooped up his bag and left his seat.

Behind him, Mito muttered angrily.

‘Why is he rushing off just because a girl called him? What rubbish.’

Hiding a smile, Shinya told Mito.

‘That call just now was from Kureto-nii.’

‘Eh? What, really?’

Shinya had overheard.

‘Are you going to the student council room now?’

Guren shook his head.

‘No, tomorrow, during lunch break.’

But hearing him say this, Mito was even more unsettled.

‘Wait, wait, you really talked to Kureto-sama like that? That question just now……’

‘How annoying.’

‘What annoying! Wait……’

To the sounds of Mito raging, Guren left the classroom. It seemed that Mito was not yet done ranting, so Guren bluntly closed the door.

In the corridor, Sayuri and Shigure were already waiting for him. They were now in the class just next dor.

‘Ah, ah, Guren-sama. We have been waiting for you!’

Shigure then spoke coldly.

‘Did those disreputable people from the Hiiragi family do anything to you today?’

Behind him was Mito who was complaining ‘Those who are disrespectful to Kureto-sama will blah blah blah’, now, in front of him was his aide who was calling the Hiiragi family disreputable.

Half wanting to burst out laughing, Guren resisted and replied.

‘Nothing at all. Just as usual.’

Sayuri still showed a worried expression.

‘What do you mean, as usual? Did someone throw a cola bottle at you?’

Shigure’s face immediately went cold.

‘If so, we must kill everyone in the Hiiragi family.’

From her uniform skirt, she pulled out a knife. She was serious.

But Sayuri did not notice this and spoke cheerfully as usual.

‘Oh yeah, Guren-sama! What do you want to eat? Whatever Guren-sama wants to eat, I can make it……’

‘Curry.’

‘Eh, again~?’

At this moment, the classroom door opened. Mito walked out and noticed Shigure’s cold glare.

‘Ah, Yukimi-san…… Such a scary expression, has something happened?’

‘No, nothing at all.’

‘Even so, it is better to speak of happy things here. As such, there are some things Yukimi-san should also tell Guren. With the disrespectful manner in which he treats Kureto-sama, right now Guren’s position is not very good.’

However, Shigure directed her cold glare at Mito and answered.

‘Guren-sama did not do anything wrong.’

‘Being his aide you always cover up for him……’

‘Outsiders have no right to criticize the master of my house. Your voice is very piercing, can you keep it down a little?’

‘……Uh.’

And so Mito embarrassedly silenced herself, casting a silent plea for help towards Guren.

‘Why’re you looking at me?’

Guren said, which made her blush for no reason.

‘…… I, I only, I was only thinking for your sake……’

‘Don’t pry into others’ matters.’

Goshi walked out from behind Mito.

‘Alright, stop teasing Mito-chan. Today’s that day right? The day that everyone plays nice and goes to Guren’s house to play, right? So let’s all get along.’

But this was the first time Guren had heard of such a thing.

‘Huh? What’s up with that?’

Guren burst out. Grinning, Goshi explained.

‘Well~ you see, we’re all united as Kureto-sama’s subordinates, so sometimes we should get closer right?’

‘No, never heard of that.’

‘Yes. Okay. Since I have just come up with such a brilliant idea, let’s all go to Guren’s place.’

‘Stop kidding. That would obviously never happen.’

Unfortunately, yet another nuisance emerged from the classroom, this time it was Shinya who walked out.

‘What, what? Such an interesting idea. I also want to go~’

His expression filled with annoyance, Guren whipped around to leave.

‘What idiots. Let’s go.’

And so he left, which Shigure and Sayuri following.

However, Sayuri occasionally glanced back over her shoulder.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Guren asked.

‘……Are those three following?’

‘Yes.’

‘…… Haa, those idiots really took it seriously.’

Shigure lifted her head to ask.

‘Should I destroy them?’

‘If you can even shake off Mito, that would be not bad already.’

‘…… That is true…… Uuu…… I am not strong enough, I am very sorry……’

‘No, forget it, I’m not angry or anything.’

Guren gently petted Shigure’s head, causing her to look at him in surprise. On her usually emotionless face, a dazed expression seemed to emerge.

Compared to this, the reaction from the side was much bigger. Sayuri’s face was filled with panic.

‘Ah! Ah! What was that just now! Shigure is so sneaky. Me too! I also want to be petted by Guren-sama!’

But Shigure grabbed and restrained Sayuri’s hand, saying.

‘…… No. Last time Sayuri confessed to Guren-sama and was petted, this time it’s my turn.’

‘Eh~ Yuki-chan is so sneaky. I also want to be petted.’

‘No.’

‘But, but.’

They argued so, but the two aides were already showing expressions of understanding.

When petting Shigure’s head earlier, Guren had slipped the paper Shinya had given him behind Shigure’s ear. On it was written the time and location of the meeting.

2am.

Hikarigaoka Park.

In front of the tennis practice courts.

This was the meeting with the <Hyakuya Sect>. Naturally, the name <Hyakuya Sect> was not written on this paper, but there would definitely be preparations to be made. Weapons had to be readied. Or perhaps they would have to move stealthily and not let anyone notice.

Shigure spoke.

‘Putting the jokes aside, today I need to take in the laundry, so I shall head back first. What about you, Sayuri?’

‘I need to go the supermarket. Today, everyone……’

She glanced back. Guren confirmed it.

‘Probably so. That bunch is very annoying, we can’t shake them off.’

‘I see. Then just to be on the safe side, I will prepare their shares too.’

As Sayuri said this, Goshi snuck over.

‘Ah, to be able to eat Sayuri-chan’s homemade cooking? I’m really looked forward to it.’

Sayuri answered his smile with a cold aura, before saying.

‘Then I shall prepare curry, Guren-sama.’

With this parting statement, she turned and quickly walked away with Shigure.

Seeing them leave, Goshi sped up to walk side by side with Guren.

‘…… Guren you really are sneaky~ to have two such cute girls serve as your aides.’

Shinya also walked side by side with Guren.

‘You could just ask your family for the same.’

‘Ah, Shinya-sama… Nah, I’m not as good as my younger brother. Actually, they don’t really think much of me……’

‘But now you are Kureto-nii’s subordinate.’

‘Oh yeah, that’s true. After that all my attendants’ attitudes towards me changed, but that immediate change is what’s repulsive…… It feels like my brother is also more nervous……’

The two people by Guren’s side chatted as they walked.

‘You’ve really made up your mind to come to my house?’

As Guren asked this, Goshi nodded.

‘Yeah. Can we?’

Shinya then smiled.

‘Ah, is it that? You’ve hidden many R-rated books in your house, so us visiting is a problem for you?

Actually, it was not because of hidden porn magazines that he felt trapped. Even if it were people from the Hiiragi family who came to check, they would still not find anything of significance.

Why did Goshi suddenly want to visit Guren’s home? Shinya had also taken notice of this issue.

No matter how you put it, today was the day that they might meet the <Hyakuya Sect>.

Was it possible that Kureto had found out about this –

That the meeting tomorrow afternoon in the student council room was just a cover, and that he actually knew that they were meeting the <Hyakuya Sect> today.

Guren directly interrogated Goshi.

‘…… Were you ordered by Kureto to keep surveillance on me?’

Shinya looked over at Guren and Goshi. Evidently, he had also been thinking about this.

Goshi shrugged.

‘Nope. I haven’t gotten any instructions from Kureto-sama.’

‘Then why do you suddenly want to come to my house?’

‘Because we are companions.’

‘Huh?’

‘We are also classmates, if this were a normal school, it would be the summer holidays now.’

‘So?’

‘It’s the time for everyone to play together. Right?’

However, Guren wore an expression of complete befuddlement and shook his head.

‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’

Goshi laughed.

‘Really? Okay, the truth is that~ I got scolded by my parents yesterday.’

‘Parents? What did they say, that you have to gain as much of Kureto’s favor as the Ichinose?’

Goshi shook his head.

‘No, no, the opposite actually. They said that the Ichinose trash are still traitors and will soon be shunned again, so I should not associate with them so much.’

His parents certainly had foresight, thought Guren in his heart. However, it seemed that Goshi intended to ignore his parents’ criticism.

‘You should listen to your parents, or you’ll become bad.’

‘So what if I’m bad.’

‘You rebellious rascal.’

‘Haha, just like those who steal motorcycles for a joy ride? That also seems like a great activity for summer~’

‘Go die.’

‘Hahaha’

Goshi laughed.

From the side, Shinya asked.

‘Does Goshi have a motorcycle licence?’

‘Ah, no. What about Shinya-sama?’

‘Me neither. But I can ride one during training.’

‘Ah, me too~ but it’s more fun to take the public’s possessions? I also want to ride a motorcycle bike.

Even as they conversed, they continued to follow Guren. Obviously, they planned to follow him home.

In the middle of Shinya and Goshi’s discussion of motorcycles, Mito spoke.

‘…… Can I, um, ask you something?’

It seemed that she also intended to follow Guren home.

‘…… Um, just now, you petted Yukimi-san’s head.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ah, that…… that……’

‘What about it?’

Mito was having trouble forcing the words out.

‘…… The two of you, uh, are going out?’

‘Ah?’

‘Uh, or is that even if you are not officially dating you would touch your subordinates so tenderly? Or unless, unless, even at night……’

‘What are you saying?’

‘To lay a hand on your subordinates who cannot disobey you, what kind of person are you……’

‘You’re really noisy.’

Guren let out a sigh and stopped listening.

This group of rascals, what were they up to since just now? Their inane chatter was just like that of normal school students. In the first place, to play with friends, this idea was something Guren could not understand. To gather at his house, what did they want?

Was it to play poker?

‘……Good grief.’

They walked out of school.

The weather was the usual oppressive heat.

There were still students training in school. This was the type of school it was. Even if the <Hyakuya Sect> attacked and decreased the school population, no one would stop to rest.

The order to lockdown all information had yet to be rescinded. Only the few in the higher ranks knew about their state of war with the <Hyakuya Sect>.

Even so, small conflicts were taking place unceasingly. Not just in Japan, but even in the branch organizations all over the world, fights were starting to take place.

Hence, to say that the headquarters of ‘Mikado no Oni’ in Shibuya was the most peaceful place left on earth might not be a lie.

Even the <Hyakuya Sect> could not easily lay siege to Shibuya.

However, this school with its concealed traitors was a different story.

As Guren looked around the school, he thought of all the things Mahiru had done.

About dyeing this school crimson with the blood of students, and the things he had done in his youth.

Mito noticed his distant gaze.

‘……Time passes really quickly, huh.’

Was Mito also comparing the schoolyard before her eyes to the scenes of that day?

The scenes of blood and corpses everywhere.

‘Yeah. That’s true.’

It seemed like he had made no progress forward at all, but time was already slipping away.

Mito spoke.

‘In this short time, I’ve already been saved by you twice.’

‘It was just luck.’

She laughed bitterly and lifted her head to gaze at Guren.

‘…… You said it was by luck, but wasn’t it because of it that you ended up grievously injured and comatose for a month?’

‘I was just careless. Furthermore, sleeping is my hobby.’

‘You’re always cracking jokes to change the subject…… But, Guren.’

Saying this, she gripped a small piece of the back of Guren’s shirt.

‘……I really want to show my gratefulness. So, I want to repay you.

‘Repayment, huh. Like how?’

‘…… Like, until the day Kureto-sama officially acknowledges you, and gives you the position of honor you deserve in ‘Mikado no Oni’, I will always support you.’

Nosing into affairs that were not hers – this is what Guren thought, but did not say aloud.

‘…… Furthermore, the current Guren, father would never accept……’

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing, just talking to myself.’

For some reason she stepped back shyly.

Guren really couldn’t understand her feelings.

He could not understand Goshi’s feelings either.

Why care about the Ichinose trash? Why support him? In Aiichi, the research on Kiju, that if discovered by the Hiiragi family would be severely punished, had already begun.

Yet this bunch of people trusted him so easily.

Companions? Friends? To gain position under Kureto? These kinds of words were too foolish.

It was just as Goshi’s parents had said, the traitorous Ichinose family that was rotten to the core, was too dangerous to get close to.

But even so they said they wanted to be friends. They said that they wanted to deepen their friendship as fellow subordinates of Kureto. It seemed that they did not suspect him as all, and were still innocent and happy in their roles as the young mistress and master that were coveted by their families.

‘……’

Could he kill these two with his own hands?

Guren mulled over this in his head.

Because they were enemies, enemies of the Ichinose family, there would come a day when it had to end. When that time came, could he do it with his own two hands?

In Ueno he had not killed them. That should have been the time to do it, yet he could not. Whether or not this was the right thing to do, he had no idea. It was not a matter of principle. The point was that he should have acted, but he could not.

– I couldn’t do it.

‘……’

This sentence reverberated in his head.

Once again he recalled Kureto’s words to him.

‘Although your way of speaking is very sharp, when you cannot win against me you clearly recognize your own position.’

Kureto had said this before.

But was it the truth?

His ambition was ultimately just empty talk, if Shigure and Sayuri were to be captured and held as hostages, would his ambition be so easy dispelled?

Or was it that he still held such an innocent way of thinking that he could not even kill Mito and Goshi?

If so, he should just discard his ambition. For he had already dragged in his comrades in the Ichinose.

The war had already begun.

It had already begun long ago.

Despite all this, Goshi exhibited no anxiety at all, and asked with a face filled with expectation.

‘Hey, is your place far away?’

‘If I say it’s far will you go home?’

‘No way.’

Guren sighed.

‘It’s not that far…….’ He replied tiredly.

Translator’s comments

Hyaka: The history of the Ichinose and Hiiragi is so dark. Guren can also be very dark. Also, why is Guren so popular? First Mahiru, then Shinya, then Mito, not to mention Yuu-kun, Shigure and Sayuri…

K. Shion: Cos he is Guren that’s why. .__.

2 notes · View notes

mamahanu · 4 years ago

Text

First 20

Credit to @writingwife-83

Thanks for tagging me, @dragonnan!

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all.) Choose your favourite opening line, tag some friends!

I'm going in order of most recently updated. It's gonna be a trip.

1. Love Runs Deeper than Blood (Avatar: The Last Airbender): The young women scurried around him like spider-rats, dashing in and out of the room at the end of the hall, exchanging bloodied towels for fresh ones and refilling empty water pitchers as they went. His father had already gone to bed for the night, and his brother was in his own apartments, watching over his child as he slept. It was the solstice—the longest night of the year, and with a new moon to boot.

2. What an Apothecary Does (Octopath Traveler): It was a quiet little place. Remote. Quaint. The perfect spot for him to hide out while he recovered.

3. Some Unspoken Thing (Guardians of the Galaxy): "Quill?" Peter straightened up and adjusted his jacket, leaning against the wall as light footsteps approached. Gamora walked in, eyeing her surroundings cautiously.

4. You Knock me off of my Feet (Spider-Man): “Ned, come on.” Peter had his phone pinched between his shoulder and his head, arms full of books as he tried to find some kind of shelter from the autumn rain that had just started falling. “I’m not gonna just bail on this project because of, uh, my internship.”

5. But satisfaction brought it back (Black Cat, Spider-Man): “Did you hear?” “Yes, Lord Lebeau’s home was ransacked!” “Who was the thief?”

6. The Road to Llynder (Spider-Man, Final Fantasy): Tony glanced over his shoulder nervously as he followed his best friend into a dingy, worn out building. In the dim lights, he could see a wooden bar with a couple of patrons staring wistfully into their half-empty glasses. Rhodey tugged Tony behind him to an open table and shoved him into a chair.

7. Where Words Fail, Music Speaks (Spider-Man, Deadpool): The first time it happened, Peter didn’t even notice. They played their set as usual, and in the blinding stage lights he focused on his bass and little else. He smiled as the energy in the room changed while Wade crooned their newest love ballad.

8. But I'm Not Spider-Man! (Spider-Man): “What are you gonna do, Pete?” Mr. Toomes asked as they drove down the road, pulling Peter out of his daze. How could Liz look so attractive taking a selfie? “What?” he asked, shaking himself a little.

9. Kiss Me (Spider-Man): “You ready?” Peter asked. They stood on the roof of her building, his arm wrapped securely around her waist, tugging her closer to him. “No,” she replied, looking over the edge of the building.

10. We Suffer More from Imagination than Reality (Spider-Man): “Jesus, kid come on. I got ya—” Happy said, struggling to drag the boy into the jet behind him. Peter fought against the hold, clawing at his own face, and for a moment Happy was relieved that whatever Peter got doused with had sapped his strength. He did not want to go toe to toe with a delirious Spider-Man who was operating at full capacity.

11. Omertà (Spider-Man): Peter Parker was a good kid. He went to school, kept his grades up, tried to keep his head down, and would do his chores for Aunt May and Uncle Ben. He didn’t start fights on the playground, and if he was on the street and heard something bad happening, he knew to keep away and find a cop if he could, but otherwise he should not get involved.

12. We Come in All Shapes and Sizes (Spider-Man): “Pete, come on, buddy.” “No!” “Peter. Talk to me. What happened?”

13. In the Parkers Living Room (Captain America Movies, MCU): Tony sighed as he stepped off the elevator and neatly slid between the residents who were lingering in the hallway at his approach. Even in a rundown apartment complex in Forest Hills he was recognized. The billionaire adjusted his shades as he looked for the correct door.

14. I'll Fix You With My Love (Spider-Man, Deadpool): “Making pancakes, making bacon pancakes. You cook a bacon and you put it in a pancake,” Wade hummed, turning the bacon in the frying pan on the stove, wearing nothing more than a frilly pink apron over his black satin stockings and panties. His gold pumps were nearby, ready to slip on at a moment’s notice. Petey-pie won’t know what hit him, he thought as he cooked. (believe it or not, this is rated T).

15. Private Eyes (Captain America Movies, Marvel/MCU): “You’re absolutely certain?” the redhead asked, her green eyes bright with unshed tears. Bucky let out a quiet sigh as he placed the photos of a tall, brown-haired man wrapped around a silver-blonde bombshell. There was no mistaking the nature of their relationship.

16. So This is Christmas (Spider-Man, MCU): “I can’t believe you’ve never done anything like this before, Mr. Stark.” Tony looked up at the tree in the corner of the small apartment. He nearly winced at the garish amount of tinsel dangling all over it.

17. Waiting Room (Spider-Man): The scent of antiseptic burned the boy's nostrils. The soft lights glowed in the slightly darkened room. He stared at the patterned carpet below him, ignoring the wet sting in his eyes.

18. You are in Control, I Disappear (Spider-Man, RATED E so mind those tags, please): Michelle grabbed her hair and tied it behind her in a tight ponytail, pulling most of it away from her face. A few messy strands escaped the elastic band, but she paid them no mind. She liked the loose tendrils better, anyway.

19. Sunday Dinner (Spider-Man, MCU): Happy Hogan was many things. Strong, loyal, compassionate—but one thing he prided himself on was his punctuality. Which was why the only thing on his mind was that he was late.

20. (Not Just) Father's Day (Spider-Man): Ben shouldn’t have been surprised. It was only a month ago that Peter had come to him, worried about the gifts they were making for Mother’s Day (popsicle stick picture frames that were decorated with paint with beaded necklace to go with). Peter fretted, and while Ben had tried to put his mind at ease—telling him that May would never replace his mom—he discovered the root of the problem was not that he didn’t want to make May a gift, but that the craft itself was not suitable to his needs.

I'll be honest. I'm not a big fan of any of my openings. I feel like I'm best towards the middle. Openings are tricky for me. I think on this list my favorite is a tie between Sunday Dinner and We Suffer More from Imagination than Reality. Happy's voice really calls to me. I think we share similar levels of irritation at life in general.

Tagging: @forasecondtherewedwon, @i-lovethatforme, @blondsak, @jro616, @darksidekelz and anyone else who wants to play. :)

#tag games #writing #fics #my fics #hanuko writes

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scriptaed · 5 years ago

Text

it isn’t love.

genre: heavy angst/fluff;

pairing: yoongi x reader x namjoon;

length: 2.4k;

synopsis: it all happened too fast. first, he held you in his arms in the couch of your living room, and next, he had packed all of his belongings and left you to an abandoned apartment without warning. now, he’s known as suga of bts and the only way you can cross paths with the renowned star once again is to win a date with his bandmate, kim namjoon.

commissioned by @minyoongail. thank you so much for supporting me and what i do! it means the world to me. enjoy c:

Wait, how did you end up here again?

The boy’s face hovers just an inch or two above yours, alluring you back into reality. His tannish bangs hanging over his widened eyes obscure that look of his that tells you nothing in the world mattered at that moment except for the woman before him—you. His usual shifty gaze of tonight remains unusually affixed to yours. Calm, serene, pristine, the soft edges of his remind you of all that is good and deserving of nothing but good in the world… a stark contrast from the apple of his eye.

Because there she is, peering up at the boy and shivering by the chill down her spine over her own frightening reflection. She came here not for the butterflies that she's felt and scorned throughout the fleeting romance, nor did she come here for love like the foolish man above her must have been led treacherously astray by. She came here on a mission for vengeance—yet here you are, neither capable nor willing to escape the aftermath of the fall. Eyes shrouded and chest heaved, the haze refuses to bid you farewell.

And you begin to wonder to yourself… what is it that you originally came here for?

You weren’t always like this, for tonight had played out perfectly according to your plans. After submitting an impeccable design for BTS’s highly anticipated return and winning the worldwide competition hosted by BigHit Entertainment, your prize arrived as what should have been a one-time conversation with the one and only Kim Namjoon. Having gone to the lengths of pulling numerous all-nighters, nearly questioning your intentions and teetering on the edge of insanity, there really was no return from your perilous quest. So you pulled every trick of yours that had captivated Yoongi’s attention years ago. Like a sorceress and a swirl of her hands, you played your cards with the right words and the right time; and him, like the sacrificial pawn of your chest game, falls foolishly for your feigned infatuation.

Your eyes had been on the prize all this time, so why does the beacon of light seem to dim by the second as you fall deeper into the rabbit hole?

“H-Hey, I, um,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck as he shuts his studio door behind you, “I’m sorry, I realize how dumb of a date this might seem.”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him, because even if his role in your intricate plan has been fulfilled, you can’t bear the thought of hurting a friend close to Yoongi. “I’m sure your company has its own reasons, being an idol and all.”

Or in other words, the very reason he left you.

“Thanks for understanding,” he presses a smile at you, as if his heart wasn’t about to jump out of his chest at any moment; those dimples of his, however, blow his cover and threaten that of your own. You have no obligation to smile anymore, and yet, you do. The gullible continues, grin stretching from ear to ear. “I recall you mentioning something about movie nights and all… so I tried to create something cozy for tonight.”

The boy beckons for you to take a seat on his cushioned couch surrounded by what appears to be a pillow fort and you can’t help but wince in place at the all too familiar sight. It isn’t too long ago when another boy had stood in his place. Sure, he stood much shorter, much paler, and much less outwardly doting than the boy before you, but he was yours. He was yours before he was the rest of the world.

He was Yoongi before he was Suga.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” he runs a nervous hand through his hair, “do you not like it? I tried my best. I even brought some Ryan cushions…”

“N-No,” you blurt the second something falls in your stomach for the most mysterious of reasons. Hastily, you shuffle toward the couch before the guilt could plague you further. “I like it. It’s just that… it’s been a while since someone’s done this for me. Thank you—”

—one second later, one step forward, one trip over his foot, and you’re sent tumbling into the couch just as he holds you between his protective embrace.

And here you are, gazing at the victim of your hands and glaring at the reflection in his eyes.

“You should be more careful,” you utter.

“What? I think I should be the one telling you that, Y/N,” he furrows his brows, chuckling at your remark. “You know, we’re a funny pair. I’m usually the clumsy one.”

His words leave you silent and baffled. He’s too gullible, too trusting. He’s the worst nightmare personified for people like you. Here he is, inviting someone he thought he had a connection with, a spot millions of others would have done anything to be in. And here you are, taking advantage of a man in the hopes of meeting his colleague, his best friend, or in other terms, your ex.

You should be careful of who you trust, you clarify inwardly to yourself, because even a shameless person like you can’t convince yourself to stain the gem before you.

“I’m sorry,” you gulp, turning your head so that your eyes could stare at anything but his pristine eyes and your grotesque image, “can I use the restroom?”

“Huh? O-Oh,” his eyes widen when he realizes his position, hastily sitting up and releasing you from his hold with a bashful chortle. “Sorry. I just got caught up in the moment—um, the restroom should be down the hall on the left.”

“Okay,” you say under your breath, excusing yourself without further explanation, “thanks.”

Here you are. Closing the door behind you, the silence of the apartment Namjoon had so affirmatively emptied for movie night envelops you. A long breath in fills your aching chest and you take one irrevocable step forward into the dark path. Your heart beats harshly against your walls—whether from the painstaking guilt of betraying Namjoon or from the fear of what you’re about to do, you’re unsure—and it’s almost as if a red string of fate keeps you tethered to the man of your dreams as your feet find its way into the room you’ve long striven for.

The aching nostalgia that comes with this dream of yours hits you at full speed, unapologetically and unwarranted. Because his scent surrounds you and has you swirling in a daze over the ephemeral moments he had wrapped his arms around you on the unconvincing excuse of being cold. Because his walls adorn the familiar drawings you had gifted him on his birthday and Christmas and any other day that you just can’t find an excuse to shower him with love. Because his tidy room and peculiar way of placing things remind you of the days when you had whined to him for being too perfect.

Now, standing here in the flesh where you can neither confront nor spill your heart to the catalyst of your crestfallen state, you drown in the flood of regretful memories. Because you wish he hadn’t hugged you, otherwise you wouldn’t be craving for his touch like the way you do now. Because you wish he had tossed your gifts in the trash like he had with you on the fateful day when he left, for at least that would’ve further fueled your quest for revenge. Because he’s too perfect, too enigmatic, you just can’t seem to decipher the reason why he left you in the first place.

Clutching the crinkled notes in your pocket, you vainfully muster the courage to bid your final farewell onto his desk when—

“—Y/N?”

Low, familiarly croaked with a tint of surprise, his voice is like a bullet to your chest. Slowly turning around, your eyes trail from your feet, along the hardwood floor, to another pair of feet, up his jeans and sweatshirt, slowly, ever the more slowly, until your gaze locked with his.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, all too knowingly, because a few seconds of silence are enough for him to figure you out; and when his face contorts to one of disappointment intermixed with concern, your heart sinks at the inevitable turnout. Why is he pretending to care now? He shouldn’t care. “Oh. So you’re the winner.”

“What?” you crack a wry laugh. “You’re surprised that I won?”

“No,” he deadpans, burying his hands into his pockets. “I’m surprised you decided to win. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Who said I won because I wanted to see you?” you snap, even as you stand in the middle of his room. “Why would I want to see my ex who didn’t even bother breaking up with me? Why would I watch you all this time on the other side of the TV, stupidly waiting for a man who couldn’t even face me in person?”

“Y/N, babe,” he utters, taking a step forward and hesitantly reaching a hand out for yours, “I wanted to pursue this career and I couldn’t do it with—”

—his words come to an abrupt stop when you roughly slap his hand into the air.

“Couldn’t what? Couldn’t do it with a dead weight like me? Because your company told you to abandon me? You tossed me aside for the sake of fame? You don’t get to call me babe,” your piercing glare has him silent, only augmenting the fire in your eyes. “And you dare to write songs about me? About us? You can’t do that. You can’t force me to listen to your stupid songs in the car or in the stores, you can’t subject me to you and your stupid apologies that I can’t even use my voice to stand up for myself. You can’t act like you’re the bigger person and you can’t apologize because I won’t accept it. You just can’t.”

And like the enigmatic way his darkened eyes peer down at you, unreadable and riddled with a swirl of your reflection, you find your resolve breaking down brick by brick.

“...so you came here with Namjoon?” he questions, gaze never budging from yours. “To taunt me? To flaunt your new fling? Say it plainly, Y/N, you came to hurt me.”

Your silence is the most telling answer of all.

“...does Namjoon know?”

The answer which falls meekly from your barely parted lips has you as equally devastated as the boy standing before you. Who knew you would have fallen to such despicable tactics?

“...no.”

Neither of you thought he could be any more disappointed until he twitches at your reply, brows furrowing and anger broiling under his composed facade.

“Do you know how much Joon has been fawning over you lately? Do you even know how excited he was for tonight?” his voice crescendos along with the fury he holds in his clenched fists. Quickly, his fists retreat into his pockets and his voice returns to that irritating mumble of his that you’ve always found offence to. “He’s going to be broken if he finds out—”

“—then don’t tell him,” the words slip before you can take them back, “please don’t.”

Yoongi frowns at your shameless pleas, brows cinching and teeth grinding. Hesitantly and warily, he asks his next question. “...do you like him?”

Do you like him?

You pause for a long, stagnant second. The very boy you had purposefully wrapped around your finger with the sole intent of hurting his friend, the one your heart truly remains betrothed to—do you even have the right to confess your feelings? If it weren’t for your wavering resolve, you could have easily refuted his leading question; but somewhere along the way, you’ve found yourself on a detour and now you’re standing before a fork in the road.

“Y/N?” the both of you turn to stare wide-eyed at the man towering beside the door. He exchanges a confused look between the two of you and a pang of guilt hits you. “What’re you doing here?”

“Nothing—”

“—it’s not nothing,”’ you refute Yoongi’s attempt to cover your tracks, gulping with your head lowered in shame. “I… I used to date Yoongi. I came here because… b-because…”

The two boys watch you stumble over your own words. Yoongi stands there, wanting to help but knowing all too well that he just can't. The other boy, however, takes two wide, confident strides toward you and thaws your freezing hands in the warmth of his own. He presses his lips into a thin, upcurved line, “you said you used to date Yoongi, right? And you came here because of me, right?”

You’re just about to clarify when he squeezes your hand tightly, as if to usher you away from the incorrect answer and plea for you to speak a comforting lie. Head lowered and bottom lip bruised by your nibbling teeth, you nod reluctantly.

Yoongi watches from afar, hands confined helplessly to his pockets. The boy remains affixed to his spot, somewhere far away and out of your touch—neither willing to spoil the nightmarish dream of his roommate nor willing to hurt his beloved’s next chance at a more deserving man. To him, he does out of love; but is this really love?

Namjoon holds your hand, pulling you close where you could no longer slip from his sights. The boy refuses to acknowledge the truth, a trait you’ve come to know is a rarity for the man before you. He ignores your faults because he claims to love you, unwilling to lead you to an inevitable crash that you, yourself, had set on trek for; but even he questions his own proclamations of love.

And you, following the guidance of the boy before you and staring at the frightening reflection of the girl in his eyes, shiver at the top of a cliff that just never seems to end; because there she stands, too cowardly to face her spiteful ways and too eager to accept the help from the very victim of your underhanded quest. She says she does it out of love for the blossoming feelings long intoxicated by vengeance… but is it really love?

Everyone knows the answer, all three witnesses of the fateful incident that night, but no one speaks the truth.

It just isn’t love.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts fluff #bts scenarios #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #bts scenario #bts imagines #suga angst #suga fluff #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you

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welcomethefears · 5 years ago

Text

Days Away - Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU - Chapter 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 (This is it)

The afternoon was sunny, with beams of light streaming in through the open windows in the shop. Each flower colored the room, sending pastels and dark colors spiraling throughout the primarily creamy walls. At the front desk of this shop stood a (Tall/Short) girl, resting both elbows on the marble, her head in her hands, and a distant look adorning her (s/c) face. It was a dim afternoon, and today her flower shop wasn’t as busy as it usually was. She let out a soft sigh, feeling the sunlight hit and warm her face. She closed her eyes for a split second, taking in all the warmth that the afternoon offered to her.

“(Y/N), you alright?” A voice asked, snapping the girl out of her daze. Said girl open her (e/c) eyes, her gaze falling on the brunette carrying a pot of pale pink roses. Vanessa had a hand on her hip, her green apron blending in with her dark clothing. Her brown eyes sparkled in the afternoon light, watching carefully over her seemingly younger boss. (Y/N) let a soft smile paint itself across her plump lips, letting a soft hum vibrate through her throat.

“I’m fine, just… thinking,” She stated, her melodic voice floating around the store. Vanessa made her way over to the counter, placing the pot down and grabbing (Y/N)’s right arm. The girl struggled a little as her grey knit shawl was pushed down her arm, revealing her glowing numbers that were ticking now, second by second. It was only 3 days until she met them, her soulmate. She sighed dreamily as she thought about the concept, her other half after all this time. She had waited what felt like centuries, watching as all her friends including Vanessa met their soulmates and became just, astonishingly happy. She never thought it was possible, to suddenly become a humanoid ray of sunshine just by meeting someone, but it was clear to her that soulmates defied this logic she had.

“I knew it! Only 3 days? (Y/N) why didn’t you tell me?” Vanessa reprimanded. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, smile somehow getting warmer at the words. She loved Vanessa, she was one of her closest friends, and one of her best employees. Then again, she only hired the best at her store, with Vanessa being assistant manager and two very reliable teenage girls running the desk after school and on weekends. It was little her own little flower family, and she made sure each person knew how much they were valued. It was small things, like gifting them their favourite flowers on their birthdays or buying them all cookies at Christmas. She ran a tight ship at work, so she needed people to know how much she cared. She shook her head, getting caught in her own thoughts again. She loved those in her life already, how was a soulmate going to affect her?

“Yeah, just 3 more, crazy right? Who knew I would get a soulmate!” She exclaimed in reply, a grin spreading across her face. She was always good at hiding her inner turmoil, covering it with an overexcited exterior. Her personality seemed to match that of a twenty-something-year-old, but in reality, she was around 54 years old, a gift she seemed to inherit from her father. Everyone she knew closely knew this, but she had no clue how this would affect her soulmate, she was old enough to experience turmoil yet not old enough to experience a world war. Would her soulmate be younger than her? An old person? She had no clue, but in a way that excited her, the mystery of it all, so she showed this side of her emotions instead of anything else. Her eyes sparkled as she thought this, Vanessa quickly picking up on it, giggling softly at her friend’s innocence.

“You still manage to act like a child, even though you’re much older than I am,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling at (Y/N) as she moved to her work station, collecting and arranging flowers.

“I can’t help it sorry, being youthful is just… exciting I guess,” (Y/N) trailed off, caught in her own thoughts again as the afternoon sun drifted in. She’d be going home soon, tutoring the kids in the afternoon, and helping to cook dinner for them all. Being around children, especially school-aged mutants was exciting for her, watching them develop their skills and powers, as well as their social skills was a highlight of each day. Thinking about it more, she loved the mansion, with all the staff being like a family when she was away from her father or flower shop. The support she experienced as a child and even now as a fully-fledged adult was something she valued tremendously. Although, with a soulmate coming into the picture did that mean she would have to rely on them? Would they even be reliable? Everything was quickly spiraling, becoming something out of hand, lost in them she was snapped back to reality when Vanessa spoke once again.

“Oh, Wade was asking when he’s allowed to come back to the mansion? Says he wants to have a family dinner with everyone,” Vanessa informed, causing a snort to come from (Y/N).

“Never,” She chortled, memory flashing to the last time Deadpool had invaded an x-men dinner. Many of the younger students invited to join the staff dinner were quickly pushed out of the room, and Charles had not been happy about the language and vulgarity some of them had heard. Although ironically both Ellie (Better known as Negasonic teenage warhead) and Yukio had stayed, Yukio being quite the source of gossip for Wade to tap into.

“Come on, could it really hurt that much? I could come with him if that would help,” Vanessa offered, her own thoughts drifting to her fiancé who was even more childish than the woman in front of her.

“Maybe, as long as you don’t get jealous if he starts flirting with Colossus,” (Y/N) giggled, pressing her thumb across the pale pink petal belonging to the tulip she was holding. Banter like this was nice, a great distraction from the possible mess that was thought to arrive in 3 days.

~*~

“Welcome home!” Kitty yelled, jumping on (Y/N) as soon as she had closed the door behind her. While Kitty was one of the youngest teachers (Having only finished schooling a couple of years prior) she was still treated the same way she was when she was a child, since all the older staff had a soft spot for her. And seemingly, Kitty had a soft spot for (Y/N). Hugging back with just as much intensity, (Y/N) rested her head on Kitty’s shoulder, their brown and (H/C) hair pooling together. Pulling apart and leaving the warmth of each other’s touch, the two shared a smile before Kitty took (Y/N)’s hand, dragging her towards the library in the mansion.

“Some of the students are waiting for us, looks like maths and biology. You’ll be able to handle that, right?” Kitty asked, an innocence emanating in through her words. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, playfully shoving Kitty softly.

“Hello, anyone in there? Did you forget my powers again space cadet?” (Y/N) teased, linking her arm with Kitty’s in an affectionate manner. Kitty huffed playfully in response, gripping (Y/N)’s arm back in response.

“Of course, I know, it’s just they’re doing cell theory, not botany!” She exclaimed in reply, shaking her head slightly and causing her brown hair to jump with the movement. The two finally came to the library, finding many students chatting loudly to each other with books hardly touched. (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at this, noting how the students hadn’t noticed either of the two adults. Without a word, (Y/N) raised her hand towards the center of the large table, and slowly out of the wood, a large cactus grew, its sharp needles stretching into every corner she allowed it to reach. The students took note of this quickly, turning their attention to the (tall/short) figure which had caused it to occur. (Y/N) smiled lightly, watching over the silent children finally paying attention.

“So, what are we helping with today?” (Y/N) asked, a sweet grin on her face as she looked over all the students before her.

~*~

“Did you really have to grow a cactus on the tables, you could have just called out to them?” Kitty asked, walking down one of the long halls in the mansion with (Y/N). The two had just finished tutoring all the students, a successful session in (Y/N)’s eyes, but so was anytime a student’s face lit up with understanding. Being with others, especially children was always a fun experience for (Y/N), because as much as she looked young if it weren’t for her childish personality it was likely she’d be like her father, a grumpy old man. The students provided an insight into the younger generations, a connection she doubted she would have outside the girls in her flower shop. It wasn’t just that though, it was the fact that the mansion acted as a surrogate family for all these children, a place where they were safe and free to be themselves, and in a way that allowed (Y/N) to do the same. Shrugging her shoulders, she was already back in the moment, her air-headed tendencies pushed aside.

“I felt like it, plus no one really has a mutation like mine, so it’s always nice to show off what I’ve got,” She replied lightly, finally reaching the dining room with Kitty. It was pretty empty seeing as all the kids had eaten already, as well as the teachers who were monitoring them. Not only that, but tonight wasn’t an official dinner, the sort where all the x-men spent the evening together. However, a familiar figure sat at the x-men table alone, her white hair tumbling down her back and contrasting with her rich dark skin. (Y/N)’s face lit up as she saw her best friend, rushing forward to the dining table.

“Ororo! It’s good to see you!” She laughed, engulfing her friend in a hug. Ororo hugged back just as strong, the two laughing quietly to each other. Pulling away they shared a smile, and (Y/N) noticed the age on her face. Sometimes it was hard to acknowledge the fact, but not aging certainly put a damper on some of her relationships. The nature of her powers meant that her healing could only be used on her family and soulmate, so every once in a while, she’d be reminded of this, simply by looking at her aging best friend. It was hard, watching those she was connected to lose their spark and die, but so was the life of a mutant with healing powers. At least she’d always have Deadpool to talk to, knowing she was one of the few who enjoyed his company.

“You saw me last night, what’s the big deal?” Ororo asked, raising an eyebrow at her youthful friend. (Y/N) seemed to fidget at this, not wanting to admit either her thoughts or her dilemma. Ororo didn’t even flinch, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Not long to go I’m guessing?” Ororo asked, pulling up her own sleeve to show off her numbers, slowly ticking down each second. She was close too, but not as close as (Y/N). Automatically (Y/N) copied her friends’ action, pulling her own sleeve up to reveal her mark, glowing brightly on her (s/c) skin.

“Only 3 days, you lucky girl,” Ororo chuckled, rolling her sleeve down as (Y/N) did the same.

“Oh. My. God! Only 3 days, why didn’t you tell me (Y/N)?! Have you told anyone!?” Kitty asked, jumping up and down in excitement behind the two. (Y/N) rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, letting out a strained laugh.

“I’ve only told Vanessa at the flower shop and now you guys, more than anything I didn’t want to tell my dad, you know how he can be like when it comes to me,” She huffed out softly in reply, dropping her hand and letting it run through her (H/C) hair.

“What am I like?” Came the voice, interrupting the girl talk in the dining room. (Y/N) turned towards the voice, Wolverine walking casually into the room as if nothing was the matter at all. He came over to (Y/N) first, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“How’s my little Howlett going?” Logan asked, standing beside the group of girls.

“Fine, Dad, how was the camp?” (Y/N) asked in reply, sweating under her collar at his sudden appearance.

“Yeah it was fine, some of the little runts had trouble setting up tents, but other than that they were pretty capable.” He informed. (Y/N) looked between the two girls, an obvious difference in their reactions. Kitty watched on fearfully as well, looking as if to keep the secret. Ororo however, looked on encouragingly, waiting for (Y/N) to take the mature option. Swallowing her fears, (Y/N) finally spoke up.

“Dad, I’m meeting my soulmate in 3 days,” She informed, watching as her father’s face morphed into one of surprise.

“Oh,” His reply was simple, and the room was frozen in anticipation. All the girls were quiet, and with the air becoming thicker (Y/N) noticed Kitty slowly sink through the floor, escaping the awkward situation. ‘Damn her,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. Storm seemingly held eye contact with both parties on and off, struggling to decide who needed her attention most.

“Well, dad?” (Y/N) tentatively asked, hoping to pull some answer from him.

“Well… I’m happy for you little Howlett. Hard to believe you’re growing up,” Logan huffed out half-heartedly, making eye-contact with his daughter, a soft smile overtaking his lips no matter how hard he tried to keep up his gruff exterior. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief, happy enough to at least get that titbit of approval, but knowing her father this wouldn’t be the last she heard of the matter.

“I’m 54 years old now dad, you don’t have to baby me anymore,” (Y/N) giggled with a roll of her eye, squealing as her father suddenly grabbed her in his arms, feeling her (h/c) hair being ruffled around once again. While a small gesture, the short contact she had with her father like this meant everything. He hadn’t meant to, she always thought, hadn’t meant to leave her in the care of the X-men for her childhood, but that was just how it was. So moments like this, when he was actually in her life, and his contact kept her in reality, meant practically the universe.

“Yeah, but ya act like one, might as well treat ya like one,” Logan grinned, letting his daughter go from his arms. (Y/N) found herself unsure of how she felt about this, in one way she felt like she needed the contact, something to lean on, yet leaving her father’s arms was her future still to come. Logan muttered a quick goodnight, snapping (Y/N) from her trance as she whispered the same back. She watched as he left, yet she felt no weight off her shoulders. He knew now, that was great, but something still wasn’t right.

“Earth to (Y/N), you going to stand here all night or head to bed, it’s already 10 pm and you have work tomorrow, right?” Ororo asked, placing a shoulder delicately on her shoulder. The warmth presented was inviting, and (Y/N) realized that it was something she always craved, but seemingly more so lately. This soulmate business was certainly getting to her.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I do, I’ll follow you towards the rooms,” (Y/N) answered simply, trying to hide her disappointment when Ororo’s hand left her shoulder.

“Hey, to celebrate your soulmate do you want to get some coffee tomorrow. That little place a couple of blocks from your work? It’s the only time I’m free with everything going on, and I’m sure Vanessa can handle the shop for a while,” Ororo suggested, making (Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes light up with joy. She nodded vigorously, excitement overtaking her in a child-like manner.

“That sounds wonderful! I can’t wait to see you, then I can finally sit down and have a good talk with you,” (Y/N) suggested. Spending time with Storm as a normal civilian was almost a dream come true oddly enough.

The two finally parted ways at (Y/N)’s room, and after saying goodnight for the final time, she softly closed her door. Her room had become her own at the mansion after a couple of decades of living in it. A permanent resident she seemed to be, and not that she minded but it wasn’t truly hers. It was Charles’ home, it was the children’s home. But not hers. With these thoughts clouding her mind as she pulled her quilt over herself, she couldn’t help but let the storm in her mind to wander towards her soulmate. (Y/N) had hardly had a boyfriend let alone felt love truly for anyone but her friends. Yet, she was optimistic. Surely a soulmate was like the legends, another half to herself, a completion to her as a person. With hope she thought about them, wondering what they were like, who they could be if they liked mutants. Thoughts about her fated swam around, clouding all judgment she had as she was lulled into slumber. Before she finally drifted off, she made a quiet promise.

To do anything for her soulmate, even move the heavens if she had to.

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